#like when he games for me to watch he purposely hold his controller in a way i can lay my head on his chest or shoulder

[quill-and-quiver]

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: house of the dragon | aemond targaryen x fem!reader 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: After years of pining after Prince Aemond Targaryen, he finally allows you to meet his prized possession—his dragon. 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜:  i don’t think any. this one’s mild - others won’t be lol | if u noticed anything i missed, pls let me know 𝚆𝙲: 2.7k — 11 min read time .·:*¨༺➻𝙰/𝙽: hi omg! my first post on a shiny new blog (◕‿◕✿) i know i’m like wayy late to the game with aemond but the new trailer coming out kicked my ass into gear. this is pre-s1e10 so we're pretending that aemond does, in fact, have control of vhagar 💀 also what i learned from this fic? aemond calls u pet. i don’t make the rules sorryyy. ALSO ALSO - requests are open - pls send some! 🤍 mills

✧❦༺ 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ༻❦✧

As he lies asleep, his head resting on the leather cover of a large tome, you study the features of his face. Your eyes trace the delicate curve of his nose, the sharpness of his Cupid’s bow, his angular jawline. Entranced by him, you may not have even noticed when he stirs if it isn't for the soft hum that slips from his lips. As Aemond lifts his head, you quickly turn back to the open book in front of you.

For the last three months, you have spent an unbearable amount of time with him. He’s recently fixated on the history and technique of dragon riding, and you’ve been helping him with his research. And for the last ten years, you have spent an unbearable amount of time gazing at him from a distance, waiting for him to really notice you.

While you relish the time you spend together in private, you tire of it. The truth is that you’re itching to make a show of your friendship. Publicly. Unfortunately, you doubt Aemond will be so understanding. You’ve spent many late nights together in the library or the study. You’ve even fallen asleep more than once in his private chambers, though not wrapped in his warm arms as you might wish. Especially recently, you’ve begun to waste the nights away talking, commiserating, and comforting one another.

But in the light of the day, under the watchful eye of society, everything is so different. Though you wait for his call during the day, it never seems to come. At times you wonder if Aemond is keeping away from you on purpose. When you cannot avoid one another, he pays you no mind as if you were a simple servant and nothing more. You’ve grown closer over the past months, but he still holds back. He is a man with many secrets, and you don’t appreciate being one of them.

As he groans and stretches, you exert every morsel of self-control to avoid glancing at him, even though you know that the muscles in his neck are likely pulled taut.

“What happened?” he mutters, his voice low and rasped.

“You fell asleep,” you reply as you pretend to be immersed in your book.

“For how long?”

“No idea. I was busy and enjoying the rare silence.”

A lie. You know it’s been at least a couple of hours. The truth is that you couldn’t have woken him up, even if you wanted to. Seeing him rest… You’ve never gotten the chance to before; you’ve always fallen asleep first. But he looked so content, peaceful, young. You’ve never seen him so relaxed, and you couldn’t be the one to destroy it.

“Surely the silence pales in comparison to the charming sound of my voice, does it not?” he says.

You can’t resist the temptation to lift your eyes, and you’re glad you do. You catch him just as the corners of his mouth curve upward into his signature smirk. Even in the dim light of the library, you admire the way his cheeks wrinkle when he smiles.

“Perhaps the way it sounds in your head. To the rest of us out here, it’s rather nasally, actually.”

You offer a grin of your own. He chuckles, leaning back in his seat. He drapes an arm lazily across the the chair. His silver hair is ever so slightly mussed from his nap. As you try not to imagine what it would feel like to run your fingers through it, the light catches on something at his throat. Your eyes flick down to the dragon-shaped hooks on his leather tunic.

“Ah, I found something for you,” you say, searching around the desk. You slide a dusty, red book toward him. “It’s a record documenting the pedigree of several Old Valyrian dragons. I checked and, unfortunately, Vhagar is not among them. The book is old, outdated. Still, I thought you might find it interesting.”

He hums in approval, running his long fingers over the spine of the book. You drag your eyes away from him, busying yourself by trying to find where you’d left off reading.

“I’d like you to meet Vhagar," he says.

Your head snaps back up, your eyes widening.

“What?”

“I want you to meet my dragon.” His unwavering stare tells you that he’s absolutely serious. “You’ve never seen a dragon before, have you? In the flesh, I mean.”

“Well…yes, I suppose I have seen them at a distance but not up close.”

“Good,” he responds, that horribly charming smirk returning. “Then it’ll be educational for you.”

“No, I…” you trail off, unable to come up with an excuse more convincing than ‘I don’t want to.’

“Why? Are you afraid, pet?”

All of the excuses you’ve whipped up in your mind suddenly evaporate. That stupid word that always makes your knees weak. Apparently, you’ve made it obvious that he can have anything he wants when he calls you by that one sweet name.

“Is it not reasonable to be weary of an ancient beast?" you counter. “Dragons are fickle creatures, no matter how much training they’ve had. And that’s not to mention the sheer size alone of Vhagar. I can hardly even imagine.”

“So you do fear her then. Or is it that you do not trust me to protect you should something go awry.”

His eyebrows furrow and head tilts inquisitively. You sigh and shake your head.

“I do trust you, Aemond. It’s just…as I said, dragons are fickle, unpredictable, wild.”

“I can assure you that I have full control over Vhagar.” He pushes the chair behind him and stands before stepping closer. His hand moves to the table, and he leans over your shoulder. His silver hair drops over his frame, nearly brushing against the bare skin of your forearm. In a low, deep voice he says, “I bonded with her, claimed her, rode her with no training. The largest dragon in the known world obeys me and me only.”

Your cheeks heat as his breath ghosts over your neck. His words drip with honey, and you imagine what it would be like to hear those words said of you.

You heave a deep breath and toss him a warning glare before putting a strip of parchment in the book and snapping it closed. You sneak a glance at the clock in the corner of the room and gasp when you realize the time of night. Before you can protest any more, Aemond holds out his hand, his open palm beckoning you forward.

“Come.”

Evidently his persuasion doesn’t just work on Vhagar because at the single command, you too obey him.

He pulls you into one of the Red Keep’s secret passages, tugging you along through an unfamiliar maze of shadowed halls and steps. You follow blindly, realizing just how much you’ve allowed yourself to trust him. And wondering if it’s a good idea. What feels like an eternity later, you step outside into the chilled night air. A quick glance around allowed you to guess at where you are, and you’re proved correct as you eye the massive stone structure before you. The Dragonpit.

You’ve never been inside. You’ve never needed to until now. And you’re in absolute awe of the entire place, craning your neck to take in as much as you can. Once inside the main hall, Aemond gestures for you to wait as he retreats into the shadows.

You aren’t quite sure what to expect. You envision dragons as harsh, violent beings, but Aemond talks about them as though they’re household pets. Trying to imagine Vhagar like a common dog is impossible. Though you’re doing your best to focus on the beautiful craftsmanship of the building, you keep noticing alarming features like ash-stained walls, talon marks slashed through stone, crumbling marble columns.

“Ready?”

Aemond’s voice startles you to a jump. Your head whips to the side to find that he’s snuck up behind you and is standing less than a foot away. He smirks again as you nervously chuckle and nod. When he angles his gaze toward one of the archways, you follow it.

“Māzigon, Vhagar,” Aemond says firmly. He’d used one of the few High Valyrian words you know the meaning of. [come]

You gulp as the lumbering giant moves into the firelight, her massive wings swaying from side to side with each step. Although there is plenty to take in, your eyes immediately latch onto the giant rows of sharp teeth. Vhagar snarls as she prowls forward. An acrid, foul smelling burst of hot air surrounds you - her breath. As the dragon stalks toward you, you can feel your body instinctively shrinking back. You inch closer and closer to Aemond. The beast comes to a pause before you, its nostrils flared.

“Y/N,” Aemond announces, lifting his chin proudly. “May I present the largest dragon in the world. My dragon.”

“She’s…lovely,” you quickly respond. You really hate the way Vhagar’s orange eyes are trained unwaveringly on you.

“Would you like to touch her?”

There he goes again, talking as if he had just presented you with a standard house cat, no larger than a small child. You glance over at Aemond, tilting your head.

“D-do they like to be pet? I hadn’t really thought of them that way.”

“Like it, not so much. But she’ll tolerate it,” he leans closer, offering a sinister crooked smile, “if I command her to.”

A tingle ricochets down your spine. You’re sure he’s just poking fun and, after all, he's talking about Vhagar. But you cannot deny that you, again, pretend you’re the one he’s playing with. You shake yourself out of your head and shrug.

“Alright then. How do you suggest I do this?”

“Lift your hand, flat palm, facing her. I’ll have her come to you. Oh, and try not to move, pet.”

You nod and take a deep breath before extending your arm as far as it will go and positioning your hand as instructed. Aemond steps forward in front of you, waving Vhagar forward.

“Māzigon, Vhagar,” Aemond repeats.

With a huff of hot air and a low growl, Vhagar begins to walk forward. It takes most of your willpower not to shy away. Aemond turns, standing to the side of you and Vhagar as the dragon inches closer and closer to your outstretched arm. She pauses just a few inches from your fingers. You freeze, unsure how to proceed. After a few moments of awkward silence, Aemond speaks.

“You can touch her now,” he teases. “She won’t come closer, you’ll have to meet her halfway.”

“I…right,” you mutter but remain still.

Aemond chuckles, circling around to stand behind you. Once again, he leans closer to you, his voice sounding sweet in your ear as he says, “I told you before, there’s no need to fear her. I have complete control. She won’t harm you.”

You know he’s probably right, but you still can’t bring yourself to move a muscle. You will every fiber of your being to obey you, to reach forward and touch the thing in front of you. But you can’t. More silent moments pass.

Suddenly, you feel the warmth of Aemond’s broad hand as it flattens on the small of your back. You arch your spine in response, startled yet electrified by his gentle touch. His other hand moves to wrap around your forearm, and his body molds around the outside of yours. With careful movements, he pushes your arm forward. Vhagar jerks, tossing her head with a growl. Aemond stops abruptly.

“Manda, Vhagar,” he says quietly. “Manda.” [gentle]

Vhagar huffs but lowers her head just enough for Aemond to guide your stretched palm onto her forehead. You release a breath, smiling despite yourself.

The feeling of her scales is strange - not how you expected. She is smooth and hot, like the ceramic surface of a warm teacup. You giggle, feeling almost giddy at the fact that you’re petting a real dragon as if it were a pup. You marvel at her, running your fingers over her broad head.

“She’s very important to you, isn’t she?” you ask, the thought escaping your lips before you really have the chance to stop it.

A few moments of silence pass before he replies, “Yes. She was…”

His voice fades but you nudge him with your shoulder.

“She was what?”

He heaves a sigh.

“A way to prove myself. To show everyone that I'm not to be passed over simply because I am the second son.”

You nod, your fingers still trailing over Vhagar’s scales.

“While I cannot understand the feeling, I can imagine how difficult it must be,” you reply. “Particularly when your older brother is someone like Aegon, who avoids his responsibilities like a sickness. When you are the one training, studying. It cannot be easy. But she is a very fine dragon, indeed. One you’ve earned. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trusting me. For sharing her with me.”

You’re still so fascinated by the texture of her scales and blurred by the sound of your nervous heart pounding in your ears that it takes you a moment to realize Aemond’s palm sliding up your arm to cover your own hand. Your smile fades.

He’s never touched you before. Not like this - not so…intentionally, sweetly. You turn your head back to glance up at him and are surprised to find him staring down at you. His parted lips and furrowed eyebrows make your knees feel weak. His hand slips onto your wrist, pulling your touch away from Vhagar. He guides you to face him and wraps his free hand around your other wrist. You don’t resist as your gaze drops down to his lips and then returns to his eyes.

“Qrīdrughagon.” [leave, away]

He doesn’t even bother to look at Vhagar as he speaks the command. With his hands secured firmly around your wrists, he gazes down at you. His thumb brushes along your skin, almost in time with your rapid heartbeat. You dare to look into his stormy eye once again, doing your best to seem enticing but not desperate. Though, by the gods do you feel it.

“I knew you would understand, pet. You’ve always seemed to understand me. No one else ever tries like you.”

He lifts a hand, brushing his knuckles across your cheekbone. Your eyes close in contentment at the sensation of his touch on your skin. When his finger hooks under your chin, you raise your face willingly. Aemond guides you toward him, your noses touching. Your hand slides onto his chest, a fist curling around the leather fabric of his tunic. His breath is hot and fast on your mouth. You release an involuntary gasp.

And then his lips crash onto you, slipping in between yours. When your mouths separate, he wastes no time coming back to you. He angles his head to reach you better as his grip slips from your face to curve around your waist. His other hand, still encircling your wrist, pulls your hand toward his chest and holds it tightly against his heart. His lips move expertly on yours. He pushes against you, and you meet his energy to deepen the kiss. You can feel his grasp tightening, his fingers clutching the material of the fabric on your back. The pressure sends your back into an arch and presses your chest flush against his. He begins to drag his fistfull of your clothes upward. You separate, breathless. But your fingers grip at his tunic, refusing to let him move any further away. He chuckles breathily and moves to attach his lips to yours again. A loud snort from Vhagar startles you, and you jerk back from one another.

“Oh…” you muse and chuckle quietly.

“I should take her back,” he says, breathlessly.

You smooth your hair as Aemond glares at Vhagar. He releases you but not before lifting your hand, curled tightly around his, to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to your fingers. He steps away to take care of his dragon. With his back to you, he glances over his shoulder. His chest still rises and falls heavily as his eyes flick up and down your frame, the ghost of a wicked smile playing on his lips.

“Troublesome girls, the both of you,” he says teasingly.

When you return to your private chamber the next morning after breakfast, you find a small, stuffed dragon with greenish-blue bronze scales and a handwritten note, which reads:

𝒯𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓏𝑒𝒹 𝓅𝑒𝓉. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

— 𝒜.

tags: wanna be tagged?

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen fic #hotd fic #quill and quiver

[wonryllis]

☆ MY PRETTY DOLL ! ( enhypen hyung line reaction to you in a lingerie )

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen losing their sanity 𖥔 ݁ SMUT MDNI, requested fem!reader LIB? word count ` 1074 PLS REBLOG!!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

"my pretty little slut, you did this on purpose didn't you?" heeseung's fingers thrust in and out of you at an animalistic pace. the wet sounds echoing in the room, adding onto the arousal of watching yourself on the mirror. your back rests against his chest as he holds your legs apart with his own. one hand fingering the fuck out of you and the other grip your throat to force you to keep your eyes at the vulgar image infront.

"falling asleep on my bed with this on, baby you're so dirty and desperate," he grunts at the lewd sight, mentally drooling over the scene of you trying to push your hips forward to meet his fingers when he slows down a bit.

heeseung swears he almost stopped breathing when he came across you passed out on top of his covers, dressed in the prettiest lingerie. more like pretty you making the lingerie look so pretty. the thought of you waiting in his room like that to give him a surprise fueling his inner sex demons. feeling more turned on than ever. grinning sheepishly over his intentions.

"come on now, ride me baby," his arms hook around you as he manhandles you onto his lap. carressing your trembling thighs and slapping your pussy. he rests his palms on the bed, watching you struggle to put his cock inside after all the edging he put you through. cooing at your whiney protests to let you cum, cute and pathetic and hot. so cruel but you loved it and he knew you loved it.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

"fuck baby, i can see your pussy from here," jay groans, feeling his dick twitch hard in his pants. the sleep lolling him from the previous night he spent gaming, immediately vanishing. he is so wide awake right now, orbs bulging out at the sight of you twirling in the middle of his room, showing off the lingerie you just got, for him.

it barely covers your ass, and it barely— wrong it does not cover your pussy at all, he can see it so clearly he thinks he'll grow crazy. frozen in his seat, gulping at every thought that comes to his mind, things he'd do to you right now.

"is it pretty?" you ask, looking at him with doe eyes, he feels he'll bust a nut right then and there. his cock throbbing with anticipation as he gets up from the chair, walking over to where you stand. calloused hands gently brush against everywhere, taking his time to admire your look, trying to imprint the image of it in his brain. "jayyy, do i look pretty? do you like thi—"

"yes baby, so so pretty. so fucking pretty," he's immediately grabbing you by the waist and throwing you on the bed. impatient all of a sudden as he rips the pathetic thread of a panty and shoving down his pants, thrusts his impossibly hard dick so rough into you, it's like he lost control. you drive him batshit crazy and jay doesn't know if it's good or worse that you fucking know it and use it to get what you want.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

"give me a little show, princess," jake's hands twitch with desperation, so restless to touch you. though the need to savour the sight of you in that racy lingerie is strong he can't help but be seated, tense and aroused, eyes locked on your figure.

"shit, you're beautiful," the way the lace hugs your skin with the little sneak peaks of skin showing him exactly what he wants to see but not entirely what he wants to see and it makes him feel feral.

"won't you touch me?" you whine sultrily, and jake feels like a hybrid in rut, his body heating up beyond sane, dick throbbing every other second, feeling hyper aware of his surroundings and possibilities of all that he could do to and with you. he pulls you against him lips landing on yours in an instant, the messiest kiss you have ever shared, rushed and gasping for breath. there's just so much he wants to do right now he can't seem to decide what to start with, malfunctioning poorly.

"fuck, jake," yet he finds it in him to begin with rubbing you over your pretty panties, quick circles with his fingers pressing hard against your sensitive folds,"yes baby, gonna make you feel so good," he pushes you to lay on the edge of the bed before forcing your legs far apart in a snap. getting on his knees and leaving fluttering kisses on you inner thighs. shoving your panties aside and diving in to eat you out at once. from kitten licks to lapping at your slick, from tiny kisses for a tease to lips harshly sucking at your engorged clit. jake was absolutely crazed.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

"sunghoon! what are you doing!" you squeal, squirming in place as sunghoon suddenly grabs you from the corridor into his dark room, and cornering you against his desk roughly pulls your oversized shirt(his shirt) up. door slightly ajar, an open chance for anyone to peak in.

"couldn't help but wonder if you're still wearing it," he whispers, hands fondling your breasts harsh and sloppy over the lace material. just an hour earlier, while he was out with jay you sent him a picture of you dressed in the most gorgeous set of lingerie ever. looking so innocently sexy he felt his breath knocked right out of him, dick hard and leaking in the middle of the mall.

"mhp— they'll h-hear us," but that is least of sunghoon's concern right now, they have heard him fuck you before, multiple times. all he cares about is that you're here, putty in his arms, adorning the hottest thing you have ever worn, fabric barely covering your intimate parts. just touching you like this makes him feel so high on cloud nine, the rush of pleasure in your little whimpers and moans trying to be quiet. nothing is more important than this.

"let them hear, fuck you're so damn pretty i'll cum just from this," his breath is ragged, fast and shuttering as he watches your face contort into the prettiest of expressions while his hand stuffed in your panties, plays with your pussy. fingers switching between flicking and pinching at the little bud and plunging into your slicked hole in slow thrusts.

taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle

#enhypen smut #k-labels #THIS TURNED OUT SURPRISINGLY HOT???? #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jake smut #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines

[succubus-nblm]

-

#the longing is fucking STRONG tonight lads #literally its only because this is the first time since we met in person that ive gone two weeks without him #and its about to be the start of week 2 without seeing him #its making me waant to go feral #all i can think about is how im going to literally fucking smother him with love and kisses when i see him #i miss him i miss his cute face i miss his voice and how we talk and laugh so hard we cant breathe #i miss holding his hand and just constantly resting my head on his shoulder #like when he games for me to watch he purposely hold his controller in a way i can lay my head on his chest or shoulder #and every few minutes he'll turn and kiss my head #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i cant stand it #im too gay for this why am i gods least favorite #literally the mild inconvinece when my last relationship we didnt even see each other for the first year lmao #but with him its different ive never felt this strongly about someone ever #my last relationship lassted over 5 years and it doesnt even touch this #which is wild but it just is true #ive never fallen in love this quickly even when i was a dumb little teen #it just feels like hes my person yknow like we somehow just met each other and went yep this is it #this mfer got me listening to love songs constantly and looking at pictures of his face and giggling and reading the poetry he wrote me #im legit going to fucking cry because i wish i could see him sooner #anger bite kill maul violence let me see my boyfriend faster #literally also we text all day constantly i just want to see him in person lol #i need to stare into his gorgeous eyes and constantly kiss his face and see him do his dorky grin from being kissed and pet his hair and #heaar him make little happy noises from it and kiss his hand and wake up to him in the morning

[luvmila444]

play with you instead?

…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………

Chris sturniolo x fmreader

summary: watching Chris preoccupied playing his video games only has you wanting him more and needy for his hands

content warning: SMUT; fingering; subby chris; praise kink; Chris is obsessed; cum eating; no actual p in v

word count: 1.2k words

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

One thing you loved the most about Chris were his perfect hands. 

They were perfect in every way. Strong large hands touching every inch of your body. Caressing you and holding you so tight yet soft.

Even when his long fingers fiddled with his gaming controller so perfectly, where he had memorised every button…every switch. Much like him with you. you couldn’t take your eyes of of them. You could only picture the way they felt on you... or better yet, in you. The way he would hold the pages of the booked looking almost identical to the way he has touched you not even a few hours ago. You were practically a drooling mess at the sight and couldn’t take your eyes of him.

A sly smile could have easily been seen on his face; he knows you are watching him again. Or rather his hands. Licking his index finger on purpose he silently chuckles when a little whimper leaves your lips. It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend nights in each other's places due to the comfort you felt around his things, whether you’d be fucking, talking about everything and anything or even maybe just sat in comfortable silence as you were just preoccupied with your phones, or video game, which Chris had promised to play the night before with his friends and brothers and yet got distracted by the others temptation. So, as you sat there eyeing your boyfriend with such lust in your eyes, you tried ever so hard to compose yourself and allow Chris to continue with his task, leaving you to go back to mindlessly scrolling on your phone rather than sleeping. 

“Interesting game?” You ask casually yet failing miserably from not distracting yourself with the barely distracted boy in front of you. 

“Mhmm, what baby? You jealous I’m playing with this game instead of with you?” Chris says when he sees you only looking back down and that hands that were placed so perfectly around the controller.

“No! go ahead. Tell me about the game or…whatever. Maybe It will help distract me from the other things i have in mind” You tease, smirking to yourself, knowing he immediately understood what you were talking about. 

“Oh yeah?” He settles his headset on his shoulders so. He has both his ears able to hear you, he barely gives you a side glance, not letting his eyes leave his game, yet still holding a smirk from knowing the effect he has on you, “and what else is on your mind, exactly?” He asked innocently but with mischievous intent laced in his words.

“Oh, y’know how i wanted to feel your fingers pump in and out of me and have your thumb rub against my swollen clit until I’m shaking and sweating against your chest” you admit nonchalantly, as you hear his let out a small gasp from the chair, he was sat in besides you. Chris didn’t expect you to be so straight forward, and this was enough for him to complete stop his game and let go of his controller down on the desk, practically dropping it with the urgentness he had done it in. what kind of a man would he be to turn someone as needy as you down. He would never admit it... but he loved when you took control. He would love the way you would tell him what to do while you praise him for pleasuring you just the way he knew you liked. May it be his cock, fingers or mouth, he only lived to satisfy you and to make you feel good.

And furthermore, you knew this. You knew that he liked it and who were you to decline a man of his needs, so you had halted the internal arguing with yourself and stood from the bed you were once led so restlessly on, leaving your phone buried amongst the sheets and straddling your boyfriends lap, facing him while staring down into his eager blue eyes which had now darkened even more from lust. 

“Who am i to say no to a girl like you then?” He whispers almost with a stutter. 

You grinned as you sucked on your bottom lips while you felt those hands pulling your panties to the side from under your skirt, instantly feeling the arousal soaked between your legs. 

As you felt him slowly rub against your nub, you let out a long-awaited breathy moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

Chris stared up at you mesmerised as he touched you perfectly, just the way you liked it. 

he briskly entered a finger into you while maintaining the steady pace of the movement on your clit. He comes a little bolder with his movements as you grab a tight grip on his messy hair and begins to fuck you at a quicker pace with his finger. 

You clench around him, making him glance in at your face. "You feel so tight." He breathes, before inserting another finger into your cunt.

“Yes, thats so good Chris, god... keep doing that” you praise as a proud smile makes his way onto his lips. He watches while his digits disappear inside you as you slowly start to grind down onto his hand, building up more friction. Chris’s cock is now rock hard in his pants as he whimpers at the sight of you absorbing all the pleasure. 

Your eyes are now rolling to the back of your head as you feel the build-up in your stomach. Chris speeds up the pace of his fingers, knowing that you were close to finishing, while he continued to flick and play with your clit. 

Your had clenches harder on his dark curls as he expertly curves his fingers to hit your g-spot repetitively. 

"Chris—oh, fuck." You whine now closing your eyes completely with you face now leaning against the top of his head, panting. “So good...so—shit.” You breathe as you feel you orgasm nearing you even more.

Chris hasn’t even touched his cock, yet he feels like he is going to burst from the erotic sounds and noises that fill the room. Only you he repeats to himself as he impales you with his fingers at an even faster speed then before until finally that coil snaps and you feel your orgasm ride through. 

You head falls onto his shoulder as you tremble from the intense wave of pleasure that rushed through you. Chris’s hands continue to help you through you orgasm until you become too sensitive. You let out a final heavy breathe before looking back up at the beautiful boy facing you.

He slowly takes his fingers out of your cunt before putting them between his lips and sucking them clean making your mouth fall open as his eyes roll into the back of his head at your sweet taste. 

You gaze at him in amazement before feeling something hard pressed against the inside of your thigh. You grin up at him and then notice his weakened, whiny expression before slowly lowering your delicate hand onto his prominent and very uncomfortable looking bulge. leaning in to whisper into his ear,

“Let’s get you sorted out as well then, shall we?”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n: thank you so much for reading!! pls lmk if I’ve made any mistakes or something is wrong, i would really appreciate it!

I love you all my angels

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #smut

[webslingingslasher]

I know we’re all obsessed with frat!peter, but are there any instances where nerdy!peter gets a lil mean too?

for the first time ever, peter is ignoring your call. there are times he's unable to answer, but you know he's purposely watching his phone ring before he silences it.

he's actively ignoring you and you want to scream.

peter doesn't get mad at you. but he is. and it's making everything worse. you can't apologize if he won't talk to you.

it's been two days.

'if you don't call me back in an hour i'm coming over.'

'and yes, that's a threat.'

peter must be really mad. because he didn't answer.

'hi, is peter around?' you can tell may wants to shout the truth, instead she shows solidarity to her nephew. 'sorry, honey. he's out right now.'

you challenge her, 'can i wait for him?' may isn't playing your games, 'he didn't say when he'd be back.'

it's not may's fault, but you still huff at her. 'he has to talk to me at some point.' you see a flush of parent coat over her features.

'sometimes when someone is hurt, they need to think about how to react to it before it gets worse.'

you feel like crying, 'is he really that mad at me?' may slowly closes the door, 'i'm sorry, but peter isn't home.' you want to catch the door and bark out to peter, who you know is holed up in his room, but you respect his space and leave.

it was all your fault. you pushed his harshest barrier and you swear you didn't mean to, it was just the most hurtful thing you could spit out in a moment of fury.

instant regret. you swore you heard peter's heart break the second you finished. his crushing silence hurt more than an equal blow. he just calmly grabbed his backpack and left. and you let him, you were speechless, you couldn't believe the things that came out of your mouth.

you retreat with a few texts.

'i'm sorry, peter. i really, really am.'

'i won't keep bothering you, just talk to me when you're ready.'

'i love you. and i know you love me too, so you don't have to say it back tonight.'

and he doesn't. not when you check before bed and not when you wake the next morning. you've never felt peter's cold shoulder before, but it's icy and stings.

you'd see him on campus and he couldn't ignore you in person, right?

there was only one way to tell, and it was when you saw him sitting at an outside table. scribbling in a notebook while he looked over a textbook and some sheets, he never looked so pretty.

it's selfish, but you want nothing more than to kiss him.

'hi.' sitting backwards, your back hit the edge of the table. if he tells you to fuck off you'll make a quick escape. looking at his side profile he shows no reaction, he was expecting you to join him.

'hi.' peter doesn't share the interest to look at you.

'wanna talk?' you hold your breath, hopeful he'd say yes and you could do your best attempt at damage control.

'not really,' his calm nature unsettles you. you'd rather he spit in your face.

'can i talk?' peter didn't want to talk, but he might listen. you just wanted to make it okay, or try.

you think he agrees just to get you to leave quicker. 'sure.'

anxiety scratches your insides, you've never been so ashamed in your life. it was an odd feeling wanting to do nothing but hold peter close to you while you apologize, while also knowing he wanted nothing to do with your touch.

'i'm sorry. i've never been more sorry for anything in my entire life and i don't know how to make it right. i would do anything to take it back, if i could go back in time to stop myself i would.'

it's unfair, but the reality of the situation hits. tears prickle at your eyes. you just feel so bad.

'i don't know why i said that, and i regretted it the second it left my mouth. i could try to come up with a million excuses, but i said it and i'm taking accountability. i know it doesn't help, but, like...'

you close your eyes, when you open them a tear races down your cheek. you're quick to wipe it. it's not about you.

'i am really fucking disgusted in myself. i'm ashamed and embarrassed and i know i broke your heart. peter, i... i took the darkest part of you and weaponized it. i broke your trust and i am a really, really, really bad girlfriend.'

you deserved the silence. 'you're mad at me and that's fair. i can't say it enough, but i want you to know i'm sorry.'

the last sentence caught his attention, peter shakes his head and laughs under his breath.

'you see, the thing is, i don't think i'm mad. i'm just really fucking hurt. you told me ben was just waiting on someone to put him out of his misery.'

you wince. it sounded so much worse coming from his mouth, it was like the words burnt him and left a bad taste behind. they were seared into his brain. there was nothing in the world to justify what you did.

'you were right. you broke my heart and trust in one go. how do you fix it? i don't know, but i can't even look at you right now. talking to you feels like i'm pulling glass out of my skin.'

'i'm glad you're disgusted with yourself, because i am too.'

there was the blow. it wasn't half as harsh as yours, but it dug deep. you couldn't blame him either. it's entirely too selfish, but you need to know if there's something to work for.

'are you going to break up with me?' you sound sad but you wouldn't blame him if he said yes, you would only blame yourself forever. you don't like how long the silence was, it felt like he was actually thinking about it.

'i don't know.'

three words made you feel empty. the future of your relationship and happiness was a gamble all because you couldn't shut your mouth.

'okay.' it wasn't. 'i know it seems pointless now, because i already failed at it, but i'll never say anything like that ever again. i never, ever wanted to hurt you like this.'

for the first time in three days, peter looks at you. he looks tired.

'you did. that's why you said it. you were mad and i wasn't feeding into it, you got even more upset and said the most hurtful thing you could've to me.'

you're desperate, 'i know! but i swear it wasn't on purpose! i didn't know what i was saying until i said it, and i mean, c'mon peter, you know me. i've never said anything like that before, and i won't ever again.'

peter throws you a bone, maybe he really heard the desperation in your voice. 'i know you're sorry, i know you feel terrible and you wish you could take it back. but that doesn't make it okay. and i need you to understand that.'

you nod quick, 'i do! i understand, i promise.'

peter sees it differently. 'i don't think you do. if you did, you wouldn't be here begging for me to say everything's okay.'

his words make you pause, you see his stance in a different light. your apologies have done nothing but make peter feel like he has to accept them. may said he needed space and you haven't given him any, instead hounding him with texts or forcing him to listen to the same string of sorry's.

you stand, it's very clear to you what needs to happen. if you have any chance of reconciliation. you need to cut contact.

'you're right. i didn't see it like that, but you're right. the second i walk away, i promise i'm done. no more texts, no more surprise visits, no more bothering you on campus. nothing. you come to me when you're ready. no matter the conversation.'

you follow your word and do just that while trying to ignore the worst form of anxiety that crosses over your chest. walking away, unsure if your boyfriend still loved you, was a feeling you wouldn't wish on anyone.

it spreads the longer you hear nothing from peter. was he adjusting to life outside you? should you be doing the same? you didn't realize how much you wrapped peter into your life until he wasn't around.

you had to find a classmate to do revisions with. you had to plan lunch with friends instead of peter. you had to scroll past articles and memes he'd enjoy. you had to stop yourself from texting him a hundred times a day.

the closest you got was a glimpse at his face when he was talking to a friend across campus, he was laughing. you felt relieved knowing he was happy, until you noticed it didn't seem like he missed you all that much.

after four days and all hope lost, you decided it was time to wave the white flag. it was over, if you grieve the relationship now it won't be so bad when he tells you officially. you'd be able to walk away without a panic attack.

while wallowing to yourself in your room, you berate yourself internally for ruining the one true good thing you had. spider-man was entirely too calm when he entered your room right as you felt a tear race down your cheek.

'why are we crying?'

you sit up, you've never been so happy to see the masked hero. until you piece together why he's there, you weren't pre-maturely crying after all.

sniffles around your words, 'cause we broke up.'

the mask is off in a second, 'who said that?' you shrug, the answer is in front of your face. 'isn't it obvious?' peter sits next to you, 'we're not broken up.'

you still don't feel comfortable, 'are we going to be?' peter rewords himself, 'i'm not here to break up with you, no.' 

‘then why are you here?’

peter exhales deeply, a tired excuse of a laugh. ‘i can be upset with my girlfriend and miss her at the same time.’ for just a second, you brighten. ‘you miss me?’

‘yeah. of course i do.’ you almost explode when peter pats your knee, ‘you’re my best friend.’ it’s enough to make you want to cry. you fall into him, an awkward hug, he doesn’t say anything.

‘you’re my best friend too. i missed you so much, i’m so, so, so sorry, peter.’ you melt when a gloved hand rubs your back, it’s not even his skin but you’ve missed his touch so much it’s enough to settle you.

‘it’s okay.’

the words you’ve been looking for, your heart soars. digging your fingertips into his shoulder blades, you hold him tight. ‘is it?’ you don’t want to force him into it.

‘it is.’

except when you remember your words it still doesn’t feel okay. you’re not sure if it ever will. you wonder if that’s what peter was waiting on. 'i don't know, peter. i don't want you to resent me.'

'hey,' you're held at arm's length, peter wants to make sure you're looking at him. 'i took time away so i wouldn't resent you. you really, really hurt my feelings, staying away helped me protect yours.'

you can't imagine the strife you placed on peter, you know actions speak louder than words, but it's a promise to yourself that you will never do anything like it again.

'i'm so sorry, peter. i feel terrible.'

a hint of a smile, 'i know you do. watching you squirm has been a little fun.' you drop your jaw, the nerve. 'oh, you're so mean for that!'

peter cleared his throat, you weren't out of the fog yet.

'but, seriously. that fucking killed me, i mean, i really thought i couldn't breathe. i was just... shocked. shocked more than mad or sad or... i'm not sure.'

you open your mouth, peter stops you, he knows what you're about to say. 'and i don't want you to keep apologizing. it happened, we worked through it, and it doesn't need to keep being mentioned.'

'okay.' it's quiet, you understand what he means, but you feel like you can't explain your sympathy enough.

'ben was one of the most important people in my life and i opened up to you about it. i know it was in the heat of the moment, but you can't use those things against me. it will make me feel like i can't share anything with you.'

'i'm-' peter cut you off with your name, you held your lips closed.

'you're not a bad girlfriend either. you tried. you reached out, you stopped by, you apologized, you stayed away. you did everything you could do to prove how sorry you felt. even if i ignored you, that didn't go unrecognized.'

peter takes a deep breath, 'so,' his hands cup your face, thumbs brush your cheek bones softly. 'i love you, i'm not breaking up with you and it's okay.' peter rubs his nose against yours, 'okay?'

peter isn't saying it's okay because it's fine you talked to him like that. peter's saying it's okay because he sees your imperfections and loves them. peter's saying it's okay because he's said some things he doesn't believe either.

peter's saying it's okay because we're all allowed to fall from grace from time to time.

you want to say sorry, instead you smile and push against his face with your own.

'okay.' 

'good. now give me a kiss, i've been dying for one.'

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker angst

[whillywisp]

Seeing a lot of talks about finnick as a dad/doting husband during pregnancy on the fyp and I must contribute to the conversation 🌱 (warnings: it's long and so fluffy you're gonna die). Part 1.

Part 2 ☁︎

The thing about Finnick is that he has a lot of love to give to anyone who would take it. His heart is overflowing with it, shining cerulean with it. So of course fatherhood came to him as easily as breathing—

Wrong. Have you seen that walking talking ball of anxiety, love and autism?

The day you tell him you're pregnant he passes the fuck out. On the floor. And when he wakes up he cries for an hour straight, thanking you enough times with kisses pressed into every inch of your skin he could reach that the words don't even sound like English anymore. He's so grateful, so fucking grateful and terrified but above all, completely and irrevocably in love with you.

Throughout the pregnancy, he's as paranoid as it gets to the point you have to beg him to please leave you alone and no, Finnick the baby won't be hurt if i eat too fast please breathe and let me breathe but it's all from a place of love. He's lost too much, almost everything in his life. The few people he could still keep were precious to him and he was not going to let any of them forget that least of all his babies. Or baby.

Finnick talks to the baby a lot. Asking the most bizarre question to your bump as if he actually expected a tiny, baby's voice to answer him. He was constantly on about something new and his favourite topic to talk about was whatever his new hyperfixation was and you just nodded and smiled because of course the baby wants to know how to do an alpine stitch! But it was so endearing and relieving to see him finally be happy, finally find a purpose, even if it was to just talk nonstop to your belly. He deserves this, these little pockets of happiness.

And one of his greatest happiness was taking care of you. Circling back to the fact that he starts hyperventilating when his lover so much as sneezes too hard, the hellscape that was pregnancy scared him. No, fuck it, it terrified him. So he did what he always did and loved to do and banned you from anything and everything that needed physical exertion. Chores of any kind were out of order. You were on a healthy diet of four meals a day and of course they included all your cravings that he always presented to you no questions asked thank you very much and you had to take naps, multiple of them, all with his presence as a requirement (you were sure those were just an excuse to cuddle you but you would rather take up another round of hunger games than call him out on it). He attended every appointment, had an alarm set for all the prenatal meds, and always a kiss for the belly and your lips just so you knew that this was it for him. You and your baby were the very centre of his universe and this was him orbiting you both. And you couldn't help but be grateful that you had him to love and cherish just as he did you.

And your favourite way of telling him you loved him was letting him take control over the one thing you knew he loved: baby shopping. With all due respect, this is the type of guy who bought baby shoes when he was eighteen with no baby in sight because look at how tiny this is it's so cute *big sparkly green eyes.* But it's particularly endearing watching him waltz around the store, arms full of onesies and plushies and you kind of just stand there, unable to do anything because what the fuck were you supposed to do at nine months pregnant and married to a man who you *checks notes* gifted a day where he could buy anything he wanted as a birthday present?

I promise you the answer was not 'go into an early labour the second he dumped the shopping bags in the living room' but who am I to say anything?

The baby coming two whole weeks early did not sit well with his anxiety. He was a mess, a complete and utter mess but he was also the most precious angel on this planet so seeing him holding back tears of fear so he could be there for you and hold you tight, so tight, because he was scared he would lose you broke your heart too. While the pain of the labour was bad, knowing he was close, holding you tight as he pressed gentle kisses everywhere, to cater to everything you needed, was enough to realise, he was the one. And you were going to fight through hell for him.

Such a wretched thing, love, you thought to yourself as you felt him shake beside you through the pain and haze, to ask you to hope against hope that the strain on your strength and your fading string of fate would persevere despite it all.

But you did. You survived and so did your precious little baby girl, and so did the last pieces of Finnick's soul, despite it all.

The first time he holds his tiny, tiny baby in his arms, something in his brain just clicks (or maybe his frontal lobe was finally fully developed because of course his baby picked the day before his birthday to make her own entry on planet earth) but whatever it was, it was perfect. His entire world narrowed down to the squirming little angel in his arms and he couldn't help but feel his heart leave his chest for the second time in his life to become hers. She fit right into the crook of his arms, the space in his neck. She fit into his life like another piece of puzzle that he never knew he was look for.

She was his little angel, his little girl. The person he never knew he fought through whole wars for but now, holding her against his chest as he watched you both sleep, he knew this is what he was meant to do. To love, to love, to love. For the sake of it. Simply because he could. Simply because he was alive and it was good enough reason to love with his entire being.

Part 1 because I don't exactly know if you people will like it enough to want more.

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x gn!reader #fanfiction #hunger games #finnick imagine #finnick odair #moonfm #finnick odair x male reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x fem!reader

[princessbrunette]

RAFE OR JJ SLUTTING READER OUT IN A SUNDRESS

i think both of them would have such a weakness for u in a sundress hehe I CHANGED THE REQUEST COS I JUST GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE NORMAL DOMESTIC STUFF SORRY i will write reader getting slutteddddd out soon

jj oddly has more self control, enjoying just watching you strut around all day in the thin, flowy little number, purposely knocking things onto the floor so he can watch the way the hem grazes the curve beneath the swell of your ass when you bend to retrieve it. he whistles when he walks past you, pinching the hem and dragging it up in passing making you bat his hand away shyly. if you hug him, he’s taking the opportunity to grab a handful of your ass through the material and jiggle it. briefly pulling back to cheekily tilt his head and say something like “‘i ever tell you how much i love this dress?”

rafe i think has less self control, and gets alot more tense about it. you look so cute in your little sundress, following him around the golf course with his friends, holding his bottle of water for him. you’re so sweet, helpful, and totally naive to the glances his friends are taking at your ass when you turn around. he grips his golf club tight, ticking his jaw as he stares them down each time he catches them, not wanting to start something for the sake of you being there. at one point he’s frustrated, plucking at the dress with his fingers as you stand infront of him.

“why would you wear this today, hm?” he speaks — and it’s more of an offhand comment he doesn’t expect you to question, but you tilt your head in confusion anyway.

“you don’t like it?” you look down at it, face a little hot and chest a little heavy at the thought of rafe disapproving in your outfit.

“everyone likes it baby,” he stares over your shoulder at his friends. “everyone.” he adds pointedly, raising his brows at you as if to say ‘you get it now?’ surprisingly, you catch on— leaning into him, all close and clingy, half putting on a show.

“well it doesn’t matter. s’all for you anyway.” you pout, and his eyes flicker down to you, serious and a little sulky.

“yeah? all for me?” he mutters and you nod with a sweet smile. he could never stay mad for long. of course, it goes without saying you end up with the dress bunched at your waist being bounced on his cock later on, but for now he’s patient, reassured and able to finish his game of golf.

#anon #jj maybank prompt #rafe cameron prompt

[seeingivy]

you belong with me

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: high school!au, gojo is a robotics nerd, reader is class president, emo nanami (my beloved), toji is ur shitass football playing boyfriend, typical cheesy highschool drama

an: tell me why posting this is giving me a tummy ache like I haven't posted for gojo in forever and now i think I suck at it :OOO anyways, please be nice to me about this and close your eyes if you hate it. also, totally reliving my high school days when I was senior class vice president (worst experience of my life) FDLJFKDSJFLS

--

You’re a hater. A self proclaimed, real-life, deep in your soul hater. 

What do you hate today? Being class president. 

You hate that you willingly ran, somehow won, had people up your ass all day about stuff that wasn’t in your control, and got stuck in the current situation you were in. Which was arguing with your boyfriend Toji, as you pace around your room and do your own fair share of screaming back. 

“You just did that shit because you were pissed at me.” 

“I did not, Toji. You know, not everything is about you. Other people needed the money and I put it where it was needed.” 

“To the color guard team? Babe, no one gives a fuck about the color guard team. Everyone is at the homecoming game to watch the football team. Not a bunch of idiots waving flags in the air.” 

“They’re also part of the game and all their equipment is broken. They need it more than you when you guys literally get donors and funding from the district and-”

“You’re just pissed about the sweetheart thing. That’s why you’re doing this shit and taking it out on everyone else.” 

“Toji, I’m not even mad about-” 

You’re met with the sound of ringing over the phone, signaling that Toji had enough and finally hung up on you. You flop straight onto your bed, pushing your face so hard into your pillow that sits uncomfortably against your nose and the smell of your laundry detergent makes its way to the crevices of your brain.

You hear a banging behind you and twist around to see Gojo pointing at his walkie-talkie, switching it on as you reach for yours. It’s still covered in glittery pink stickers from when you were seven, the silver coming off on your hand every time you grab it. 

“Come in, bunny.” 

“Loud and clear, Toru.” 

He smiles, setting his hardware down - probably for another weird ass robot he was making - as he holds it up to his face, talking again. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah. Just arguing with Toji, again. I’ll start allocating some of our funds to get you some sound proof windows.” 

“Much appreciated, Madam President. That’s very generous of you.” 

You laugh, dropping the walkie talkie to lift your fingertips to your temples, lightly massaging the pulsating under your skin. 

“For what it’s worth, the color guard team is really grateful you did that for them. I know Utahime was so excited when the new flags came in, she was flipping them around on the field for hours.” 

“That’s why it’s even more annoying. I know what I did was right, but he just doesn’t see it that way. Uta dragged me down to the field to watch them and their choreography looks so much better with the multicolored flags. They were really happy about it.” 

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown?” 

“Heavy is the head that’s dating Toji Fushiguro.” 

He laughs as you switch your channel off, taking the last few seconds to study you before you draw your curtains. He can see the tension sitting in your shoulders and how clearly it hurts you to argue with Toji like this. And it infuriates him. That you even have to go to sleep angry and that the cause is the headass idiot you’re dating. 

Toji Fushiguro is lucky, far more lucky than he realizes. Not for obvious reasons. Yeah, he’s a great football player and yeah, he’ll probably get scouted for some really good university at the end of the year. He doesn’t have a shortage of friends or intelligence and for all intents and purposes, he’s loved (which Gojo doesn’t understand at all). 

He’ll probably be that scumbag that people see a few years down the line and then get infuriated at. Because if an absolute asshat like Toji Fushiguro can be successful, then truly all things have gone to shit. That the patriarchy is real, that society is broken, living proof that the asshole always wins and everyone else always loses. 

But no, those are common reasons to hate Toji Fushiguro - ones he’s heard echoed by Suguru and Shoko every time he does something that pisses the two of them off. Like scream obscenities in the hallways, block their parking spots when they’re going to class, call them names when they walk by. 

No. Toji Fushiguro is lucky because he gets to date you. Because out of the long list of girls he had to pick one, Toji just had to pick the one that was his. The girl he’s been in love with since he moved in right across the street and had a smiley neighbor excitedly waving at him through her bay window. 

To him, love has always been the pigtail braids you used to wear everyday in the fourth grade, the matching walkie-talkies you bought him in sixth grade when he got grounded, and that sweet smile you’ve had since the first day he’s met you. 

And when he sees those green curtains pulled against the bay window he’s stared at for years, where he’s loved you from for years, he lifts the walkie and says what he forgot to mention. 

I love you.

--

Thanks to your gracious ride, you make it to school thirty minutes early. Your intuition - that Toji was ditching you as your ride to school this morning - was correct. Luckily, you made it in time just before class started. 

Nanami’s already seated on the green bench outside the classroom, headphones plugged into his ears. As you walk up, you silently wonder how much hair gel it takes to keep his Gerard Way hairstyle in place. 

“Hi Kento! How is my best friend doing on this fine morning?” 

“We’re not best friends.” 

“Sure we are!” 

You reach forward and pinch his cheek in your hand, which he only swats off and rolls his eyes at. That’s how you know your best friends. Because if it was anyone else, Nanami would probably break their hand and walk away. But he always lets you tease him, because he know he loves you. 

“Are you still fighting with that dog?” 

“That dog has a name. And it’s Toji. And I’m not sure, he didn’t pick me up for school this morning.” 

“Did he at least tell you he wouldn’t?” 

“No. I was lucky enough that Satoru had walked Megs to the bus stop a little late and I was able to get a ride with him.” 

Nanami looks over, narrowing his eyes at you, as the hallway starts getting crowded with people. And you know what he’s saying, what he’s been saying for the past few months. 

“You know, it’s very normal to give your neighbor a ride when they need one. Not everything has ulterior motives, Kento.” 

“That’s true. Everything doesn’t have ulterior motives. But he does. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me, Kento?” 

“Like he’d kiss the ground you’d walk on.” 

You roll your eyes, reaching up to mess up his perfectly styled hair. It doesn’t budge and you get a handful of minty smelling hair gel.

“As if.”

Like you’ve summoned him by bringing him up, Satoru’s sidestepping to where you and Nanami are sitting, Shoko and Getou in tow with him. 

“Nanami~~ How’s my best friend doing?” Satoru says, bending over to totally obscure Nanami’s line of vision.

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.” Nanami responds. 

Nanami stands up, giving you a look, before he stalks away to his next class. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and Getou standing in front of your classroom.  

“So. I hear you have a robotics competition?” you ask.

“Yeah. Next Saturday. We always practice our hardware out the night before, throw a little party in the lab. You should come.” Getou says, smiling at you. 

Satoru smacks Getou in the stomach right after he invites you, clearly trying to tell him something with his eyes. And then when he catches you staring, he gives you a nervous laugh. 

You get it. He doesn’t want you there.

“Don’t act too excited to see me now, Satoru. Anything more and I might think you like me.” you bite sarcastically.

“What? No, it’s not like that. I just-” Satoru stutters, 

“So you don’t like me?” you say, smirking at him. Shoko and Getou are laughing, the tips of Satoru’s turning pink as he very adamantly tells you that he does indeed like you. 

“I have stuff to set up for the homecoming game that day, so I won’t be able to. But I’ll try my best, yeah?” 

“Okay. Next time?” Getou asks. 

“Sure, Sugar-u. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?” 

You give the three of them a polite smile as you trudge away, leaving to meet Toji at his locker and give him a piece of your mind for this morning. Which leaves Shoko and Getou to give Satoru the scolding of his life. 

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru? You made it seem like you didn’t want her there.” Shoko says, smacking him on the back of the head. 

“I panicked! Plus, Haibara always likes to play Just Dance and I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of her.” Satoru responds, rubbing the now sore spot on the back of his head. 

“You’re hopeless, Satoru. She’s never going to like you if you keep rejecting her the way you do.” Suguru says, dragging him along to the robotics lab. 

“She has a boyfriend. Who isn’t me. As if she would even consider dating me in the first place.” 

And when the three of them pass you by the lockers, clearly getting yelled at by Toji, it only furthers their argument more. 

“Yeah, I’m sure she really loves him, Satoru.” 

--

Your argument with Toji hours prior simmers in your head, as you wait for the bus to arrive and for this godforsaken day to finally be over. You watch him pile into his car with Salma and the other boys from the football team, which only makes your anger fester more. 

He’s doing this to piss you off. Of course, he’s doing this to-

“Need a ride?” 

You look up and unclench your fists to find Satoru, sparkly blue eyes shining at you and a hand held out to you. 

“Thanks.” 

He leads you to his car, an almost demolished Honda Civic from his maniacal driving, and you climb in, immediately putting your head in your hands. You can feel him moving around you, the engine purring on and him backing out of the spot. 

“About earlier. I don’t not want you to come to the robotics thing. I just thought it was awkward the way he asked you and I-I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come, you know? And I-I’d like it if you came too and so would the rest of us.” he rambles, a hand in his hair. 

You look up, his ears tinted pink from the confession. 

“I was just teasing you, Satoru. I’ll try to make it by, okay?” 

He sighs, a clear breath of relief, and looks over to smile.

“Okay, cool cool cool. Now tell me why you and Toji are fighting.” 

“When aren’t we fighting?” you murmur, pressing your head against the glass. 

“But why?” 

And when you look over, his blue eyes staring into yours, in earnest while the light is red, you unload it all. 

“Do you know about the sweethearts thing they do at the homecoming game?” 

“Uh. That’s when the cheerleaders wear the jerseys right. And then decorate the locker room or some shit for the players.” 

“Yeah. Well, it’s not limited to cheerleaders. It usually is, but if you’re dating someone, that person can do it for you.” 

“So I’m guessing Toji doesn’t want you to do it for him.” 

“Not exactly. He was just saying that it’s more traditional for a cheerleader to do it since they’re also on the side of the track and he wants to see his name out there instead of running around, trying to make sure the game is running and all that.” 

You slump into the chair as Satoru frowns, a pitying look in his eyes, as he keeps driving. You can’t help but watch him, his silhouette against the window - defined jaw, the slope of his nose. 

He’s not the guy who ran away from kissing you in the eighth grade. He’s just ten times hotter. 

You shake your head, letting the thought spill from your mind, as Satoru looks over. 

“Jamoca?” he says, giving you a wide grin. 

You can’t help but laugh, nodding as Satoru makes a sharp left turn, making his way to the ice cream shop. 

Jamoca is your favorite ice cream flavor. Coffee, layered with fudge and almonds, became a proclaimed favorite when Satoru dragged you once in the sixth grade. After very sorely losing the class president battle, you moped in your room for five days - even going as far as borrowing one of Nanami’s My Chemical Romance vinyls to truly and properly mope. 

On day three of blasting the vinyl, Satoru called enough and dragged you to the closest ice cream store, claiming it was the closest thing to therapy that you normies could afford. Since then, any bad day was easily solved with two things. 

Jamoca and Satoru. 

When you make it to the store, Satoru’s excitedly dragging you out of the car, his hand pressed in yours as you both run into the store, giggling while you order your single scoops. And when he drags you out to the curb and you sit there, you silently think to yourself why you ever stopped doing this in the first place. 

Satoru leans over, digging his chocolate fudge covered spoon into your cup, before talking. 

“So. If you guys fight so much, why are you still dating?” 

“Dunno. Feels weird to initiate a breakup, I guess. I can’t see myself doing it.” 

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart?” 

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart.” 

You kick the pebbles into the broken parts of the pavement, leaning your elbows on your knees. 

“I don’t know, Toru. I guess he was just the first guy who ever liked me back and then I….spent so much time in the relationship and trying to make it work that it feels weird to let it go now.” 

Satoru swallows hard, eyeing his melting ice cream, as he ponders the best response. Because in earnest, he has two options. Support you or be selfish. Support you to stay with Toji, to do what you’ve been doing because he knows it’s what you want. Or be selfish. Tell you that he you deserve better, that he could be that for you if you just let him. 

He reaches over, flicking you in the forehead. 

“Ouch, asshole.” 

“You’ve got a really big brain in there. And you always have. You’ll figure out the right thing to do, just give it time.” 

And when you give him a halfhearted smile, reaching over into his cup for a bite of his ice cream, he lets it go. 

He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to you anyways. 

--

After running around all day, you give yourself thirty minutes to go to Satoru’s robotics thing. After triple checking the microphones work, the yearbook team has access to the field, the glitter has been set out for everyone trickling in, and that everyone who could possibly need your phone number has it, you speed run to the other side of campus, to the robotics lab. 

And when you make it, the five of them - Haibara, Nanami, Shoko, Getou, and Satoru - are in the room playing Just Dance. Shoko’s sitting on top of the desk, flippantly moving her remote in the air, while Satoru quite literally is trying to give it all he’s got - and losing apparently. 

You lightly push the door open, which stops the two of them in their tracks, and you’re met with some very excited cheers as they all drag you into the room. You take a seat next to Nanami, giving his cheek a pinch, which he hates. 

“You’re Haibara, right?” 

“You know who I am?” 

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re friends with Nanami and Nanami and I are best friends.” 

“No we aren’t.” responds Nanami, now sulking two seats away from you. 

“Are too.” 

You throw the nearest object, a pencil at Nanami, as you turn back to Haibara and laugh. 

“I like your shirt. Flight of the Navigator is a really good movie.” 

You see Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru’s eyes widen in the back at your words and hear a considerable amount of groaning from Nanami behind you. And after twenty minutes, you find out why. 

Haibara really, really loves Flight of the Navigator. Almost too much. In earnest, you barely remember the movie - at most, maybe the weird little alien companion he has. But here Haibara is, reciting the cast, the directors, acting out the scenes and it’s clear to you that you’ve tapped into some monster they all keep hidden. 

Luckily for you, Satoru comes to your rescue. 

“Okay, Haibara. I’m going to steal her for you for some Just Dance.” 

“I don’t Just Dance Satoru.” 

“Oh yeah? You’re just saying that because you know you’re going to lose.” 

You scoff, knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

“As if, sweetheart. I distinctly remember you banning us from ever playing that game together after I beat you in the fifth grade.” 

“You’re rusty. Maybe we’ll start with something easy. Like Rasputin.” 

“I could do Rasputin in my sleep, bitch.” 

“Prove it.” 

You roll your eyes as you march over to the front, where they’re projecting the game onto the screen. And just for posterity’s sake, you take Satoru’s sunglasses from where they were flipped over on the desk and put them on, effectively blinding yourself from the screen. 

And when the songs start, you can hear them all laughing behind you, Satoru and you hurling insults at each other as you dance on. And somewhere around the middle, you’re sure Satoru must be losing because he grabs your hands and suddenly he’s swinging you around in the air, his hands on your waist as you laugh. 

And when you take your blindfold off and the song dies down, Satoru wins by five points. 

“You asshole. You literally cheated, Satoru.” 

“Did not. You’re just a sore loser, bitch.” 

“You kiss your mom with that mouth?” 

“Every night, sweetheart.” 

You put the palm of your hand in his face as you push him away, moving to sit on the desk. He joins you, the two of you now watching Haibara and Nanami have a very one sided dance battle. 

After forty-five minutes, Satoru’s phone buzzes three times and the smile on his face drops when he checks. You place your hand on his, squeezing twice before asking. 

“You okay?” 

“Huh. Oh, yeah. I-I think you should go to the field. Right now.” 

“Wait, what? But you hate that kind of-” 

He grabs your hand, dragging you out, as you both start running to the field. You keep asking as he pulls you on, getting almost no response and only a faster pace. 

And when you reach the field, you catch just the end of it and the only thing grounding you to that moment is Satoru and Utahime, who was surely the one who had texted Satoru, holding onto your shoulders. 

Salma, the cheerleader Toji picked to be his sweetheart, just asked him to homecoming during halftime. And he said yes. 

Utahime squeezes your hand three times, a soft look in her eyes when she talks. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just thought you would want to know and I wanted to tell you because you’ve been nothing but nice to me.” 

You smile, moving into her open arms as you whisper a small thank you into her shoulder. She leaves, having to return to the color guard team waiting for her on the side, leaving you and Satoru standing on the pavement right by the field. 

“Take you home?” 

“Thanks, Toru.” 

“You want Jamoca?” 

“Not today.” 

He nods, a hand on the small of your back, as he leads you to his car, even going as far as opening the door for you and letting you crack the windows while you drive back - which you know he hates. 

At the first red light, he taps on the top of your head to get your attention. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” 

“What? Of course, not. Toji is just an asshat who doesn’t see you for what you’re worth and-” 

“No. No, no. Not like that. Do you think there’s something wrong with me because I’m not even the tiniest bit sad right now? I’m…relieved.” 

Satoru looks over, the red front the traffic light flashing on your face, and a blank expression staring back at him. 

“Of course, not. He’s a grade one idiot. Anyone in your position would feel that way, bunny.” 

“I know. That’s true.” 

“But?” 

“Does this make me defective, Satoru? Like, maybe I just can’t like people that much or something and I was the problem.” 

Satoru twiddles his thumbs on the steering wheel, pondering the same question he has been asking for the past few days. Encourage her or be selfish. 

He can’t be selfish with you. 

“Okay, Y/N. Close your eyes.” 

“Huh?” 

“Just do it.” 

“Okay.” 

He looks over, to find you eyelids fluttering shut, your face lit up by the streetlights outside.

“Now. Tell me about your dream guy, bunny.” 

“What are you going on ab-” 

“Just do it.” 

You sigh, before thinking hard about his question. 

“Someone I can be comfortable with. That’s my type. Like we can have fun together and play games but also being around them is comforting to me. Things might suck, but at least they are there to kind of pick me up at the end of the day. They’re nice to people and are surrounded by good company, because you are who you love and they try to be better each day.” 

After finishing, you open your eyes to find Satoru staring at you, an all-knowing look on his face. 

“Bunny?” 

“Toru?” 

“Does that sound anything like Toji to you?” 

You slump back into your chair, sinking down. 

“No.” you murmur. 

“You aren’t defective. Well, maybe in the higher level cognitive thinking part because you clearly have some impaired decision making but-” 

“Hey. Don’t be rude, asshole.” 

“Get out of the car.” 

You crane your head out the window to see you’re in fact not at your house, but at the ice cream store. And when he comes around to your side of the car, opening your door, he drags you out, the two of you eating you ice cream in the light of the dingy lamp outside the store. 

--

You knock hard on your window, only stopping when Satoru looks up from his desk, dropping the pencil he was just scribbling with. You point to your walkie talkie, switching on the channel as he grabs his. 

“Hi bunny. You look nice.” 

“Thank you. Are you coming tonight?” 

To homecoming. Because despite all odds and last night, you still have to go. And crown the homecoming king and queen since you’re the class president, which you’re sure will be Salma and Toji since the universe is very, very kind to you. 

“I’m sorry. Haibara needed help designing something for next week.” 

“Oh. Okay. I wish you were.” 

“I wish I was too. His hardware is Flight of the Navigator themed so wish me luck.” 

You laugh, giving him one last smile as he pulls the curtains to his window. And when you see his navy windows against the pane you’ve stared at him through for years, it only now occurs to you. 

When he asked you to describe that last night, he unlocked something. Bringing it to your attention, to the forefront of your mind. 

The person you were describing is him. You lift your walkie talkie to your mouth, press the button, and mention the words you forgot to say. 

I love you.

And then you turn on your heel and drive yourself to the dance. 

--

Satoru ponders it for thirty minutes. 

Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. 

Be fucking selfish. 

Satoru gets up, dropping the hardware he was making for Haibara, and pulls out the first suit he can find. He grabs his walkie talkie off his desk, convinces Megumi to go beg your mom (who loves Megumi) for your walkie talkie, and then goes ninety on the freeway to get to the school on time. 

He finds Nanami first, the glob of gel on his head somehow even worse than normal and sets his plan in motion. 

“Nanami.” 

“Please, for the love of god, not tod-” 

“Go hand this to Y/N.” 

Nanami and now Shoko are taking the walkie in their hands, flipping it over and inspecting it like they’re the fucking FBI. And more importantly, wasting time. 

Three feet away, you’re standing by the punch table, counting how many balloons are on the ceiling. You reach three hundred and fifteen when you’re approached for the first time that night, by Nanami and Shoko. 

“Nanami. What is going on with your hair? You can’t possibly need that much hair gel.”

“You would be shocked, Y/N.” 

“That's what I said to him too. But this is for you.” Shoko says.

She hands you your walkie talkie, the silver glitter coming off on your hand, as you flip it over. 

“Did you break into my house, Shoko?” 

“No. But I’m guessing Satoru did. He ran in here five minutes ago and basically yelled at us to give it to you.” 

They both shrug as they walk away and you look around, clutching the walkie talkie so hard in your hand you think you might break it. Satoru’s here.

And when you scan your eyes around the room, you see him at the front door, his eyes already fixed on yours. He’s smiling so big that it makes your heart squelch and suddenly you’re moving towards him. And as you both start walking (running) to each other, you can’t help but feel the anticipation of what’s coming. 

Except that’s right when Toji stands in the middle of the two of you, his characteristic slimy, sneer on his face. He reaches for your hand first. 

“Can we talk, Y/N?” 

"No."

You shrug your hand off, pushing right past him, as you walk closer to Satoru. You can hear Toji shouting something at you, but you’re too tunnel visioned on Satoru to pay attention. And when you reach him, you’re both smiling so big at each other, that it makes your face hurt. 

He lifts his walkie talkie to his mouth, talking first. 

“Come in, bunny?” 

“Loud and clear, Toru.” 

“I love you.” 

You can feel yourself smiling so big, so excited that you’re basically jumping on your toes, your walkie shaking in your hand. 

“I love you.” 

“Oh thank god. I was scared I was going to get a breaking and entering charge.”

You laugh, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him square on his face. And when he pulls away, ears pink and face red, you whisper against his lips. 

“It was always going to be you. I belong with you.” 

He smiles, that stupid smile you’ve stared at, loved for years and you can’t help but cheese, leaning forward to kiss him again.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom  @k0z3me  @kayleegomez  @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters  @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

#ok guys #no one be mean #im just a girl #satoru gojo #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #satoru fluff #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x you #gojo satorou #satoru gojou #jujutsu gojo

[leaentries]

let them eat cake | nico hischier

SUMMARY: when mrs.cap learns that cake can serve more than one purpose

WARNINGS: food play, slight boob worship, slight nipple play, oral (f. receiving), fingering, swearing, not proofread

WC: 2.97k

A/N: guess who’s back from the dead ! i hope you will take this nico fic as a form of apology for my lack of content recently !

the captain’s girl masterlist!

The familiar blaring of an alarm broke through the warm, golden atmosphere of the bedroom. Sunlight bounced amongst the beige walls, as the air slightly blew against them. Realizing Nico must have left the balcony door open, you managed to peel an eye open to gaze at the sleeping man beside you. 

His chest rose and fell in deep breaths, signaling he was still locked in his restful slumber. You took a moment to admire the youthful lines of his shaven face, taking note of every mark he had. The straight swoop of his nose, or the curve of his eyebrows; you swore to commit them to memory. Your eyes trailed down to his neck, where his chain dangled loosely to the side. A sweet smile found home on your lips as you watched his nose scrunch slightly in his sleep. 

However, your morning bliss was interrupted by Nico’s phone, which, once again, began to scream with that god-forsaken alarm. 

Very carefully, you lifted your body onto your left arm, maneuvering yourself to grab his phone and hit the “stop” button. As it would be, you didn’t quite make it that far before collapsing halfway onto the sleeping boy.

Nico’s body jolted at the sudden weight, hands immediately going to hold your hip and the arm that now lay limp across his chest. 

“Jesus, schatzi,” His voice rumbled with sleep, “What are you doing?” 

You sheepishly grinned at him, “��M sorry, Neeks. I was trying to turn off your alarm so it wouldn’t make you cranky this morning.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Cranky? I’m never cranky in the mornings. I think you’ve got me confused with someone else, baby.” 

“Ah, so you're not the guy who almost chucks his phone at the wall every morning because his alarm is so obnoxiously loud?” 

Nico gave you a deadpan look. 

You shrugged at him, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Yeah, yeah” He quickly flipped you over, his heavy body now pressing into yours, “I’d be careful with what you say.” 

His lips placed slow, hot kisses down your jaw, only stopping once he met your earlobe. He bit lightly, drawing a sharp gasp from you. 

Nico’s voice came out in a rough whisper, “After all, I’m very cranky in the mornings.” 

Nico removed himself from you, taking away the warmth of his thick muscle. Making his way to the bathroom, he gave you a quick wink and a smug smile. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to control the ache that now resided in your core. 

“You suck, Hischier!” 

Well, happy birthday to you.

  -

While Nico took his time in the shower getting ready for the day, you took it upon yourself to start making a big breakfast for the two of you. 

Although it was your birthday, you still wanted to do something sweet for the both of you to enjoy. You had been looking forward to sharing an intimate meal with him first thing in the morning. Yet, if you were being honest, you never cared to make a fuss over your birthday. 

It just never occurred to you to care so much. 

As you scraped the last bits of your breakfast out of the pan, you heard Nico’s heavy steps approaching the kitchen. 

“Mmmm,” He sniffed the air with a dog-like fervor, “Something smells good.” 

You nodded towards the two plates, that now sat full, on the island top. “I made us a big breakfast this morning. I thought it would be nice to spend some time together today. Especially since you’ve been busy with all the away games the past few weeks.” 

Nico walked up behind you, hands circling your full waist with a squeeze. 

“That sounds perfect, schatzi.” 

Grabbing your hand, Nico helped you make your way into the high-top seat, carefully pushing you in before finding his way next to you. He gave you a quick peck, reaching to pull your legs to drape across his lap. 

Your stomach argued with hunger, prompting you to finally satisfy your morning needs. You closed your eyes in bliss at the warm taste of your favorite breakfast. Ever since you were a child, you had this same meal every year. Yet, it never failed to bring back the same excitement and nostalgia as it did when you were little.

“Fuck,” Nico mumbled under his breath, “Don’t make that face, baby. It’s too early for me to be hard.” 

You fluttered your eyes innocently, “I don’t know what you're talking about.” 

However, you most certainly did. And the evidence was currently pressing into your calf. 

A low groan escaped his mouth as you dragged your legs slowly from his lap. Grabbing the empty plates, you made a show of your hips in the short walk to the sink. Carefully placing them in the metal confinement, rough hands came to pull you back. 

“Oh!” A squeal echoed into the kitchen as Nico walked your body back to the counter. His large fingers gripped your wrists, pinning them to the cabinet above you. Nico’s face dangled teasingly too far for your aching lips. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, schatzi.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth, “Swaying that pretty ass in my face.”

Nico shook his head in disapproval, “‘S not fair to me, baby.” His deep eyes only seemed to grow bigger, “Why are you being mean to me?”

You furrowed your brows in a pout, “‘M not being mean.”

“Oh yeah, you are.” He moved one of your hands back down to cup his heavy length straining against the fabric of his sweats. “Think just because you’re the birthday girl, you get to be a brat? Is that it?”

You huffed in annoyance. You should have known Nico wouldn’t give in to you so easily, even if it was your special day. Deciding to continue your ploy, you gave him your best puppy eyes, “No, Neeks.” You bit your lip, “I just want my favorite birthday present.”

Nico didn’t miss the way your eyes scanned his body, your orbs lingering on his throbbing erection. He could feel his resolve faltering at your sultry gaze, his body naturally leaning in to press against yours.

Although, just as Nico’s lips were about to finally slot on your awaiting ones, his phone blared loudly for the umpteenth time that morning. Nico’s forehead dropped to your shoulder in defeat.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He mumbled, “Gotta go to morning skate.”

Even though you knew he had to leave, you couldn’t help but feel slightly dejected. You nodded understandably, acknowledging his predicament.

Nico picked his head up, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek, “I promise, I’ll make it up to you when I get back, birthday girl.”

-

As soon as Nico had left and the remnants from breakfast had been cleaned up, you easily found yourself falling into a peaceful nap on the couch. Yet, as quickly as your eyes shut, they opened again at the feeling of warm lips trailing your shoulder. 

“Wake up, schatzi,” Nico’s warm voice soothed your sleepy mind, “I brought you something.” 

Intrigued, you lifted your head to meet his gaze. 

‘Wha’dya bring?”

Nico’s mouth quirked up, “Come with me to the kitchen and find out.” 

Giving in to the curiosity, you rose from the couch and followed your boyfriend into the homey room. You felt your breath stop for a moment at the lopsided cake that now sat center on your island. It wasn’t the prettiest or the most shapely, but you didn’t care. With the icing slightly running down the sides and the half-cut strawberries, it was perfect. 

“You made me a cake?” 

Nico shuffled bashfully, “Yeah, I tried to, at least. I-I know it’s not the best, but-” You cut him off before he could finish. 

“It’s perfect, Neeks.” You looked at him with sparkling eyes, “Thank you.” 

“Anything for my birthday girl.” 

You turned back to admire the pink cake once more. Nico’s warm body came to lean against your back, his arms wrapping around to cage you in. You watched as his right hand moved to swipe some of the fluffy icing from the side onto his finger. 

“Open up, baby.” 

You obliged gratefully, taking in his sugar-covered digit. You swirled your tongue to gather as much of the sweetness as possible, sucking lightly. 

“Fuck..” Nico’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. 

You could feel his hardening length pressed snuggly against your cheeks, taking the opportunity to tease him a bit. Jutting your hips backward, Nico groaned at the pressure. He pulled his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva still attached. His hand moved to grasp onto your heavy breast through the material of your t-shirt.

Nico’s fingers danced across your peaked nipple, before quickly turning your body in place. He swiped another bit of the icing, letting your mouth eagerly accept his offer. His eyes grew with dark lust at the sight. Nico’s cock twitched with desire at the feeling of your tongue. 

He removed his finger suddenly, drawing a whine from your lips. However, you were quickly cut off by Nico grabbing your thighs to hoist you onto the countertop. The cool sensation of the marble ignites goosebumps all over your skin. His mouth immediately found your neck, trailing sloppy kisses down the supple skin. His hands toyed with the hem of your t-shirt, before managing to discard it completely. 

“Look at these, baby” His eyes were glued to your breasts, “Been thinking about my girls all day. Always sit so pretty for me.” 

His fingers were cold as they grazed over your bare nipples. Nico didn’t waste any time as he lowered his mouth to take one into his mouth. You bit your lip to suppress a squeal. His teeth bit the pebbled bud lightly, sending shocks of pleasure to your core. You leaned your head back as a whine echoed into the kitchen. 

“Mmm, fuck,” You panted with arousal, “Missed this so much.” 

Nico raised a brow, “Yeah?” He mumbled as he took in the other nipple, “Missed me sucking on these gorgeous tits?” 

His accent grew thicker as the pure need for you flooded his senses. Your body felt like it was on fire with each lick and suck Nico gave to your swollen breasts. You could have sworn you’d cum from just that alone. 

Nico pulled up, his own chest heaving with desire while he ripped off his shirt. As if a lightbulb went off in his mind, his lips grew into a wicked grin. He gripped the backs of your legs, yanking you forward on the counter. You sucked in a breath, undeniably hot and bothered by his manhandling. Nico kept his hand on your leg, while he reached to pull the platter of cake closer to the both of you. 

You watched him quizzically as he, once again, dipped his first two fingers into the icing. Nico looked back at you, smirking at your questioning face. He answered with a sly wink, before smearing the icing down the length of your chest and abdomen.

“Nico!” You exclaimed with a laugh, “What the hell?” 

“It’s okay, schatzi. I’ll clean you up.” He gave you another smirk, before bending down to trail his tongue along the stripe of frosting. “Always taste so sweet.”

 He took his time, making sure not a single bit of the sticky substance was left. The air ran cool against your skin as Nico’s tongue traveled further down your body. You found yourself panting with arousal. He pushed your shoulder slightly as he signaled you to lay back. 

You gasped, back arching against the cold countertop. He took the time while you adjusted to the temperature to rub some more icing along the insides of your thighs. Your legs parted subconsciously, letting Nico slot his body in between them. 

A whimper escaped into the air as you felt his warm muscle flex against the plush fat of your thigh. He ran his tounge teasingly closer to your throbbing core, but only to trail it back down. Your chest heaved with anticipation, the tension overbearing, and raising a sheen layer of sweat over your skin as he continued his mistrations around where you needed him most. 

Determined to have you begging, Nico pulled away completely. Watching your flushed breasts rise and fall at the pace of your rapid breathing. He had to suppress a groan at the sight of your perked nipples still covered in his spit. His eyes met yours as you looked at him desperately. 

“Nico,” You whined, “Why’d you stop?” 

He smirked at you, “I want you to beg for it, schatzi.” 

A fire lit inside of your stomach at the authority in his tone, yet you couldn’t help the bubble of stubbornness that arose with it. 

“Why should I?” You inquired, propping yourself up onto your elbows, “I mean, it is my birthday. Don’t I deserve a present?” 

Nico almost smiled at your rebuttal, but he also needed to make sure you knew who was in charge. He leaned forward, his rigid abdomen pressing into your soft one. His mouth latched onto your nipples one more, this time sucking harshly. 

You cried out through the mixture of pain and pleasure, your slick practically dripping onto the counter by now. Your hands moved to grip his shoulder roughly, your nails leaving angry red marks in response. Nico only pulled away once he heard your needy cries and felt the way your hips bucked up into him. 

“Ready to stop being a brat?” 

Normally, you’d put up more of a fight, but with Nico’s relentless teasing all day, the thrumming need that pounded through every vein in your body had you complying with his wants. 

“Yes,” You breathed, “Please, Neeks.” Your body began to squirm as he dragged his clothed cock along the wetness pooling from your cunt, “Fuck, please do something.” 

His head tilted at you, hips still moving torturously slow, “But I am doing something, baby.” 

Your head fell haphazardly against the cool marble, an exasperated sigh leaving your throat. It was agonizing what he was doing to you, and he knew it. 

All you heard was a low chuckle before you felt Nico’s body lower and the sound of his knees thumping down against the hardwoods. Your eyes fluttered closed as Nico’s lips began to leave light kisses closer and closer to your clit. 

Nico’s right arm moved across your leg to gather some more icing before prodding at your closed mouth. Right as you opened to accept his fingers, Nico plunged his tongue deep into your soaked hole. 

Your body convulsed at the sensory overload. You felt your eyes roll back as the sweet strawberry cascaded over your taste buds and the surging pleasure Nico provided pulsed through your core. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, determined not to leave a single bit of the treat left.

Nico’s fingers fell from your mouth as you moaned almost pornographically at the intense sensation of him lapping at your velvet walls. His nose nudged against your clit with every pass he made, causing the onset of your orgasm to show its head. Your hands tangled themselves into his thick hair, tugging in an attempt to ground yourself further onto his face. 

Nico moaned against your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves up every limb. Your body felt as if it was floating, tingling with the utmost euphoric sensations. That familiar burning only increased as Nico replaced his tongue with two fingers. He plunged them brutally, not bothering to start slow. 

“Fuck!” You cried as your back arched off the counter. 

Nico’s mouth sucked skillfully on your clit, drawing fast circles. You could feel your climax approaching impossibly fast, your cunt beginning to spasm around your boyfriend’s fingers. 

“Close already, schatzi?” He mumbled against you.

You nodded helplessly, overwhelmed by the searing pleasure in your lower stomach. You could feel the blood pounding in your ears as you were hit with one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever had. Your hips bucked against Nico as he continued his abuse through the duration of your high. 

Your mind felt like it was spinning, the weight of your climax taking the breath from your lungs. Your vision went white as your eyes clenched shut. Nico’s finger slowed to a stop, his mouth now leaving gentle kisses to the side of your knee where he rested his head. Your jaw fell slightly, lungs burning from the lack of air. 

All you could feel was Nico carefully removing his fingers, and the weight of his body moving to now stand. His warm hands caressed your hips soothingly, coaxing you back to reality. 

“Come back to me, pretty girl.” 

You eventually managed to peel open your lids, eyes clouded with dreariness. 

“There’s those pretty eyes,” Nico smiled lovingly at your fucked out state, “Let’s go take a quick shower. You’re all sticky from the icing.”

A laugh bubbled up, “Yeah?” You started at him accusingly, “And whose fault is that?” 

Nico just rolled his eyes at your attitude, helping you off the counter and into the bathroom. 

Once you were situated under the scolding water, Nico slid in behind you, arms wrapping around to pull you into his front. 

“Today is my favorite day of the year,” Nico stated.

You lifted your head from his chest, looking at him questioningly, “Why?” 

“Because it’s the day you were born.” 

You felt your cheeks go red, a bashful smile turning up on your lips. You shoved your face back into his toned chest, hiding away from his gaze. 

“Neeks,” You whined with embarrassment. 

Nico just laughed, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “Happy birthday, schatzi.” 

#nico hischier #the captain’s girl au! #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier smut #nh13 #new jersey devils #njd #lea writes stuff ♡

[stqrgirlie0]

⋆toxic!theo⋆

now we’ve all hear of theo in a healthy and loving relationship, however in a toxic one? Probably the worst. Things would start off good, you guys would be all over each other, all the time. Everything would be great, unit it wouldn’t. After a few weeks, theo would grow bored and tired of you. He’d talk to other girls right in front of you, on purpose. And then when you’d confront him about it he’d get all defensive, make you think that you’re the one who’s wrong. He’d accuse you of being controlling and that he’s allowed to have ‘friends’ who are female. Despite being emotionally done with you, he wouldn’t break up, because he lovees getting you all riled up to the point where you are so mentally exhausted with his mind games, that you just give up. You give up, and you let him win, again and again and again. You guys would argue every single day, and it would always be in his dorm- because there’d always be something to go confront him about, no where other than his dorm. Leaving a toxic relationship isn’t easy, and when it’s with theo-it’s even harder. All your friends say to get out of it before it’s too late, but you’ve already ran out time. Confrontation doesn’t affect him, all the more reason for you to not leave him just to accept the challenge of making him care- just once. You would be screaming your lungs out and he’d just stand there, with a stupid smirk on his face as watches you pace around the room while shouting, and wonders what your thighs would look like locked around his head, your hands brushing out his fluffy curls and your mouth chanting out his name instead of whatever you were saying right now. Eventually the previous becomes a reality. It was almost like an indirect apology, yet theo had no intention of apologising, he just wanted to keep you hooked on for the next few days until he would do it again. suddenly everything’s fine. Well it’s not, but that’s how he’ll be pretending it is for the next few days. It’s this and his love bombing that made it so hard for you to leave, you hate it but you don’t. It’s a tricky one, but the cycle goes on, and on, and on. And oh my god this man is so stubborn, he cannot and will not change himself for you. During the honeymoon period of your relationship, his smoking didn’t really bother you, he wouldn’t be smoking all the time, maybe once every two or three days (sounds very unlikely I know). But after things got a bit more strained, he’d smoke multiple everyday- maybe even finishing the whole pack in a day. It was horrible. You hated the smell, and the worst thing was that it was everywhere. on nights when you and theo would supposedly ‘make up’, every corner of you would be infested with the scent, lingering on your clothes for the next few days. on the other nights when you’d go back to your dorm, alone and crying, you’d toss and turn in your bed. The scent would arise, from your pillows, duvet, hair, clothes, and it’d remind you of him. Shamefully you’d admit that sometimes the smell mixed with his signature cologne, would automatically drop you to your knees (don’t worry girl, me too), not that he minded. Honestly he loves seeing you from above, it just engraves the power dynamic between you two into his psychotic little brain, inflating his ego more than it already is. god he hated you, but oh how he was in love with you even more, infatuated and obsessed- feeding his desire of seeing you crying your pretty eyes out because of him, shouting with your pretty voice at him, pulling at your pretty hair because of him. Yeah, he’s (very much more than) borderline insane, but girl, as soon as you learn the rules of his games, he’ll wish he never started it.

a/n: guys if your s/o reflects any behaviour below- LEAVE. this is not meant to be normal!! This piece is not in any way condoning toxic behaviour- just a little writing task seeing what I can come up with

#something I started ages ago and decided to finish #YALL IM SORRY BUT IM GON HAVE TO HOLD OFF PART 4 FOR A BIT LONGER #work is killing me and I have easter break to catch up😭😞 #pls take this as a peace offering🙌🏼🙂

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theo nott smut #theodore nott x you #theodore x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #lorenzo zurzolo

[scarvain]

pls pls pls write a hamzah as ur bf hcs 🙏🙏mehehe

✶ hamzahthefantastic boyfriend hcs

warnings: nsfw content at the enddd

a/n: my first time writing hcs, had so much time writing so i hope u like this!!! <3

sfw !

✶ he brings you your favorite food when he comes home late or films the whole day with martin

✶ holds out clothes for you when you're shopping together and even picks some for you but sometimes he purposely picks out the most hideous pieces as a joke

"this would look good babe," he pulls out a shirt that has a lion's head, trying not to burst out laughing when he saw your reaction.

you roll your eyes but didn't try to hide the smile on your face.

✶ cooking together but he ends up hugging you from behind and not helping you

✶ screams louder than you when a jumpscare comes on a horror movie

✶ when you play video games together, he shows off to you and even invites you to be in a slushynoobz video with mandy

"you guys made a version of me in sims?" you asked, looking at the three of them.

mandy who would usually have a straight face during their videos, smiles and gives hamzah a teasing look. "yeah well, someone here forced me to make one so we could play them when we film."

✶ likes to stay in bed with you the whole day cuddling especially after a long day of work

✶ helps you choose your next nail set and chooses the shape so when you rake or run your hands on his back and head they feel good

✶ always uses the machine next to yours at the gym in case any creeps come near you

✶ secretly takes photos of you when you guys are out together

✶ still gets shy when you're out with other people or filming videos together

nsfw !

✶ hands are all over you when you have a nice outfit on

✶ likes to touch your ass ALL THE DAMN TIME even when you're wearing pajamas or a dress, his hands always find their way down there

✶ has a hair tie with him so he can tie your hair up when you go down on him

✶ so loud in bed especially during your first time together

✶ when watching a movie and a sex scene comes on, it gets you both riled up and you end up doing it right then and there, completely forgetting about the movie playing

✶ likes when you're on top and taking control but also bucks his hips up when your movements start getting sloppier

"i got you baby." his hands are on your waist, holding you down before he pounds into you.

✶ at parties, he likes peppering kisses all over you which ends with you swaying and rubbing your ass on his crotch

✶ when he finally gets used to all of it, he fucks you anywhere he can

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah el amad x reader #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah fanfic #im act ripping my hair out rn #hamzah please please #i need him #savi's works ✶ #scarvain

[whalesforhands]

mini headcanons of your life in the aftermath (nsfw)

DYF AU AFTERMATH; short edition

warnings: fem!reader, this is all consensual, p in v, baby batter, dry humping, etc.

geto suguru

- extremely needy, down-bad and perverted but hides it. jacks off when he’s sure you’re asleep while right next to you, biting moans back with a large hand slapped over his mouth. if it gets real bad, he’ll give in; waking you up with his tongue inbetween your legs and your thighs around his neck as he desperately gets himself off. (he purposely wakes gojo up to join. not that he needs to, satoru was well aware of what was already occurring.)

- actually insane amount of self-control. plays the waiting game and leaves you with lingering kisses on your skin, arms wrapped around you from behind when you prepare breakfast with him in the kitchen. your thigh is constantly nudging against a particularly hard erection that refuses to die down unless given some… special attention. “I can’t help it… You look so pretty.”

- eases you into heavy makeouts, his hand sneaking up your dress or down your pants, fingers rubbing against you through the underwear he picked out for you this morning, pushing you closer and closer to relief— Before he pulls away. “I’m sorry darling, I have a mission brief with Satoru today.”

- fails to hide his smirk when he sees you squirming, pout on your embarrassed face as you practically pounce on him right as he gets home. “Oh? What’s with that look? Missed me so much?”

- gentle, tender, so loving. sometimes, anyway. if you make him angry or displease him; good luck. you’re not going to be walking straight or sitting comfortably for a while. has the gall to act like it wasn’t his fault afterwards. “What’s wrong? Sore?” He’s kneeling before you as you sit up, your feet hanging over the side of the bed. He gently tucks a strand of hair back as you hold him for support due to your jelly-like legs.

- not very into choking or cutting you— due to chapter heave your nausea, but he will restrain you. and boy does he love that. shibari, bondage, ballgags, toys. anything that leaves you begging and whining out for him, helpless with your only saving grace being him. likes it best when you’re being so cute and obedient.

- enjoys finishing on your face or skin. loves painting your pretty skin, enjoys watching it drip down your cheeks, sliding onto your lips and watching your cute tongue peek out to taste him before he’s getting hard again.

gojo satoru

- if you think suguru is clingy, this man in contrast is insufferable, and he’s so open about it too. oh, he’s horny? no matter, he’ll just get up and off to find you, suguru or both. slings both arms around both of you whilst making light chatter, leading you unsuspecting duo to the bedroom or shower. you don’t even notice his intentions before he stops mid-sentence to ask: “So, sex?”

- actually kind of rough. really likes holding you down, and likes it even more if you have some fight in you. “come on, come on~, struggle a little bit harder. if you get on top of me, i’ll let you do whatever~” it’s vice versa for him too. lose and you’re entirely his for the day.

- “just a quick one, okay?” no. your legs are trembling, ankles digging into his back and you’re barely holding it together mentally as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, your thighs held around his hips when you feel him finish inside for the 3rd time that morning. “phew… that hit the spot. how about we go for another? suguru’s gonna come home to a pretty sight~” (TOTALLY NOT A REFERENCE TO MY KOFI FIC)

- “gojo satoru speaking!” down on your knees, you’re sucking on the tip as your hands slowly stroke him, your eyes looking up at him as his hand gently threads through your hair. “oh, you’re looking for her? not picking up her phone? sounds like a shame.”

- finishes inside. all the damn time. calls you his little eclair afterwards. you want to slap him.

bonus: satosugu

- the showers are not safe. you locked them out once and in the next moment, you had satoru crying into your neck and whining as suguru debates on removing the door entirely.

- them? loud? no. never. you, on the other hand; are a prime target. the door may be shut, locked, kids out with nanami/haibara/shoko/yaga for the day, and you still get embarrassed. messy with it too. almost any one of the mentioned can tell they did a number on you when you’re not the one opening the door.

- love love love seeing you in cosplay. you are absolutely not safe from their whims, and their bottomless pit of money. cat ears, bunny ears, extremely lewd lingerie, etc. you’re not safe at all.

- pictures. lots of them. and the fact that they show them off exclusively only to each other.

nvytalks:

most popular headcanon gets the scenario written. bcs it’s october and i have no kinktober contributions yet lol. thirsts are also a-okay to send, i wanna read what some of u think pls

#dyf au #jjk smut #satosugu x reader

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[sissylittlefeather]

I done did it again, y'all.

Suspicious Minds: Part 1

A/N: I watched the movie Argylle and was hit with some insane inspiration and I just couldn't control it. So, please enjoy the first part of this modern AU spy!Elvis x reader fic. I really wanted this to be a one-shot, but I hit 5k words at what I think is the halfway point and had to split it. I'm really excited to write part 2 for this one...

@ccab You know I love you so much. Thank you for screaming about this with me.

Warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, this is intense, gun violence, espionage, cussing, an erection, masturbation (female), kissing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, I hope that's everything

Word count: ~5.5k

You adjust your glasses and look back at the computer screen. Your mom is always on you about not staring at a screen in the dark. She's convinced you'll ruin your eyesight, but it's not going to get any better, so why worry? Instead, you focus in again and go back to the hacking you've been working on for the past twelve hours. When you get in this mode, you don't sleep. For you it's like a game. You have a mission and you won't stop until you manage to finish it. You mainly do contract work for government agencies, cracking encryptions and writing code to secure against other hackers. But this was a private contract for a company you didn't recognize. Still, the money was unbelievable, so you took the job just as seriously, put on your EDM music, and got to work.

Now, 12 hours later, you throw your hands in the air in celebration. You finally got to what you were trying to get to. Your assignment is to download what you found onto a flash drive and deliver it to a lock box. But instead, you decide to take a peek at what you've uncovered.

It's maps. But they're maps with what look like targets and information that you're pretty sure you shouldn't see. This appears to be information that is vital to national security. You've done this kind of work before, but never for a private contract. You start to wonder if you should give it to the people who have asked for it. The flash drive blinks red to indicate that all of the information is saved. You eject it and hold it in your hand. Then, you set it on your desk and head to bed. It's 3am and the sunrise will be here before you know it.

******

You wake up with a hand on your mouth and scream into his palm.

"Sh sh sh... I'm the good guy. You're okay, honey, hush." You stop screaming mostly out of shock and he takes his hand off of you slowly.

"Who the fuck-" He puts his hand back over your mouth. Your eyes meet his blue ones and he's shockingly reassuring.

"My name is Elvis. I'm here to protect you. So please stop making noise." His southern drawl is comforting, for some reason. He moves his hand off of your mouth again. You whisper.

"Protect me from what? Or whom, I guess?"

"Where is the flash drive?"

"What?" Just then you hear your front door bust open.

"Goddamnit." He stands up away from your bed and you sit up frantically. "Get dressed, but don't make any noise."

He walks into the living room and you slide out of bed to the floor and crawl over to your closet. You grab some jeans and a bra and get dressed as quickly and quietly as you can, purposely ignoring the sounds of the struggle coming from the living room. But when you hear what sounds like a silenced gunshot, you gasp and run to the doorway. Elvis turns to you, having just shot a man who lays on your carpet bleeding.

"Go back in your room!" The other guy grabs him and punches him in the face, causing him to drop the gun. They trade hits back and forth and you watch. At one point, Elvis kicks the gun and it slides over and hits your feet. The other guy gets him in a headlock and he hollers to you.

"Throw me the gun!"

"The what?" You're so in shock that you can't understand the words he's saying.

"The gun! At your feet!" You look down and see it there, but your brain has a hard time making sense of what's happening. "Just pick it up and throw it to me!"

You pick up the gun and hold it in your hand. You've never held a gun before. It's heavier than you expected.

"Honey, throw it!" You look up at Elvis and he's struggling with the guy wrapped around his neck. You toss it gently and it lands about a foot away from him. He shakes his head at you and then grunts, throwing the guy over him onto the floor. You gasp as he grabs the gun and shoots the guy in the head. As the blood spreads over your floor, you inhale sharply and start to pass out. Elvis catches you and shakes you.

"Not yet, baby. Where is the flash drive?"

"The what?"

"The flash drive! With the information you downloaded from earlier!"

"Oh! It's on my desk." You walk to it and grab it, holding it up for him to see. He snatches it away from you.

"We need to hide this somewhere they'll never expect. Go get your dildo."

"My what?!"

"Your dildo, I'm going to-"

"I do not have one of those."

"Yes, you do. It's pink."

"How do you-"

"Not important! Go get it!" You purse your lips and run to your nightstand.

"It's a vibrator, not a dildo."

"Okay, whatever. Lemme have it." You hand it to him and he opens the end, dumping the batteries on the ground. He slides the flash drive into it and then closes it again.

"Wait... will I get it back?" He walks to you and put his hand on your cheek.

"Honey, stick with me long enough and you won't need it anymore." You blush. He's unimaginably attractive, but you try to ignore what he just said. "Pack a bag. We need to go."

You grab a duffel bag and throw some clothes and toiletries in it as fast as possible. Before you zip it up, he tosses the vibrator in the top and lets you close it.

"Wait. Why should I trust you?" He stops and turns back to face you, running his hand through his black hair in exasperation.

"Honey, I just killed two guys to protect you. You really need to ask that?" You shrug your shoulders and look up at him.

"I don't know you." He grabs your shoulders and looks into your eyes.

"My name is Elvis Presley. I'm an agent for the good guys. I'm here to take care of you and make sure no harm comes to you or that flash drive of information you collected. I promise you can trust me. Now, we need to go. Are you coming?"

You look into his face for half a second and then nod. You're not sure where this is going or even how you got here, but you have no choice other than to trust this man.

You run down the stairs of your apartment building with him close behind you. He puts his hand on the small of your back and practically pushes you toward his car. When you get to it, your mouth drops open. It's a 1970 Stutz Blackhawk.

"Isn't this a little conspicuous?" You ask as you slide into the passenger seat. He gets in and closes the door, starting it up.

"It's too conspicuous. No one would ever think it's mine. What kind of spy drives a car like this?"

"Are you James Bond?" He laughs as he pulls out onto the street.

"No. Bond is British." You think it's interesting that that's what he chooses to prove his difference. Like everything else about them is the same. You look out the window as buildings flash by. The sun is starting to peek over the horizon and it hits you that you've only had a couple of hours of sleep.

"Where are we going?" You ask sleepily, yawning.

"Somewhere safe. But we won't be there for a while. You can go to sleep." You shake your head and try to stay alert.

"No. I'm okay." But you're not. Not at all.

"Honey, this is going to be a long road. You should rest while you can. I won't let anything happen to you." He reaches out and pats your knee softly. You look down at his hand. It's an unexpectedly kind gesture. The exhaustion sets in and you decide to trust that you're safe with him, for now at least. You lean your head against the window and close your eyes, sleep setting in before you have time to think of anything else.

******

You wake up and stretch. That was the strangest dream. It feels like you're on a couch though. You don't remember it, but you must've fallen asleep in the living room after finishing your work.

"You're awake."

You sit up suddenly. It wasn't a dream. He's real. You look around the room and try to figure out where you are, but your surroundings are completely unfamiliar.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere safe. Are you hungry?" The smell of bacon makes your stomach growl.

"Yes."

"I'm not much of a cook, but I made some peanut butter and banana sandwiches, if you want one." You frown.

"Why do I smell bacon?" A wide smile spreads across his face and a boyish charm shines through that you didn't expect from a hot shot agent.

"C'mere." You walk to the table and he sets a plate in front of you. On it is a sandwich with peanut butter, bananas, and bacon. You wrinkle your nose. "Just try it before you make that face."

You cautiously take a bite. It's better than you expected. Much better. You look up at him surprised and he holds his hands out.

"See! It's good!"

"It really is." He sits down next to you and you both eat your sandwiches. After a few more bites, a thought comes to you. "How did I get in here?"

"I carried you." He says it matter-of-factly like it's something he does all the time.

"Oh. What time is it?" You look around the room for a clock and realize for the first time that you don't have your phone. You must've left it in your apartment.

"It's a little after 2pm. You slept for a while."

The conversation continues and you make small talk. Once you finish eating, you work together to clean up the kitchen and then settle on the couch. It's very small, so you have to sit pretty close together. He turns on the TV and you spend the bulk of the afternoon there. For dinner, he orders a pizza and you sit together and eat awkwardly again. The evening passes in front of the TV and before you know it, it's time for bed. He stands up and walks from room to room.

"I'll be damned." He shakes his head frustratedly.

"What?"

"There's only one goddamn bed in this house. I'll have to sleep on the couch." You both look over at the tiny couch. It's essentially a love seat, so there's no way he will fit on there comfortably.

"Or I could?"

"No, you need to be in the bed behind a door, in case someone comes in during the night." You swallow deeply. That prospect is terrifying.

"O-okay, then. Goodnight..." He nods and you take your bag into the room with the bed. Once you have your pajamas on, you settle into the bed and the reality of your situation hits you. It's like the adrenaline from the day wears off and it becomes clear to you just how scary things are right now. The tears gather in your eyes and then start to slide down your face. Will your life ever go back to normal? What happens if these guys catch up to you? Before you know it, you're crying pretty hard, holding yourself and trying to breathe.

Elvis sits on the couch in the living room and tries not to hear you crying. He's been assigned to protect plenty of women, but there's something about you that makes him a little crazy. He shouldn't even think about what he's considering right now. Still, he considers it as the sounds of you crying come from the bedroom. It's torture for him to know how scared and alone you must be in there. He lays back on the little couch and tries to get comfortable.

"Goddamnit."

You're in the bed with tears on your cheeks when you hear the door open. You sit up quickly and see Elvis in the doorway.

"You alright?"

"No. Why the fuck would I be alright?! My life is literally in shambles. And I'm stuck here with..."

"With me?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I just mean... I'm scared. And I have no one." He sits down next to you on the bed. He almost whispers.

"You have me." You look up at him and he reaches out and wipes the tears off your cheek with his thumb. You're not sure why he's being so sweet to you, but it's exactly what you need right now.

"Will you... will you stay with me?" He clears his throat and pulls his hand back.

"Oh... you know..."

"Never mind. It's okay." You look down at your hands in your lap and try to ignore the lump in your throat.

"Yes. I'll stay in here with you. It's probably better that I stay close to protect you anyway. And there won't be any sleeping on that couch. The bed is the better option." You look up at him and nod.

Yes, he's sleeping with you because the couch is too small. Not because he can't stop wondering what it would feel like to wrap his arms around you. You lay down and he lays down next to you without touching you. You reach over and turn the lamp off.

"Well, goodnight." He looks over at you in the dark.

"Goodnight, Elvis."

You both lay there silently trying to fall asleep. It takes a while, but eventually you drift off.

******

In the morning, you wake up with your back pressed against him and his arm around you. You don't think anything of it really until you feel him. He has a massive erection and it's currently pushing up against you. You start to giggle uncontrollably and your movement wakes him up.

"What's going on? Why are you laughing?"

"Y-you..." You get out in between giggles. "I can feel you..."

"Fucking hell." He rolls away from you quickly, but it's even more obvious when he's on his back. "Goddamnit. I'm sorry."

He sits up on the edge of the bed facing away from you.

"I'm sorry. I just... it's morning... God..." You're laughing so hard that you can hardly breathe. He stands up and walks quickly to the door, muttering as he goes. "I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

He leaves you in the room laughing and hoping that he doesn't sleep on the couch.

The day passes slowly and awkwardly with the two of you eating sandwiches and watching TV again. Around noon, you decide to take a shower.

"I'm not sure that's smart."

"Why not?"

"I can't protect you if I can't see you." You roll your eyes.

"I've been fine this whole time. I think I'll be okay for a twenty minute shower." He thinks for a minute.

"Leave the door cracked."

"What? No!" He sighs, exasperated.

"I won't look. I'll just be able to hear you and get in fast if anything happens. Otherwise, no shower."

"Okay, fine."

You leave the door cracked and get into the shower, looking in the mirror to make sure he isn't watching. He's nowhere to be found, so you relax and let the hot water wash over you. It feels so good running down your skin, cutting hot pathways on your shoulders and thighs. Suddenly, a thought wriggles its way into your brain and won't go away. You imagine him in the shower with you, pressed up against your back. What you felt this morning is hard to ignore and you wonder what he looks like without his clothes on. You think about his hands running over your body and before you know it, it's not the shower making you wet. You peek in the mirror again to make sure Elvis is still not looking. When you're satisfied he's not there, your hand slides down the front of your abdomen until your fingers find your clit. You begin to make circles and think about his mouth. He has a beautiful mouth and the thought of it pressed to you as his tongue makes circles on you just about drives you wild. You slide a finger into yourself and pump it in and out as you continue to rub over and around your sensitive bud. Then, you imagine him on top of you, slamming his cock into you and without thinking, you moan.

"Elvis..." You say it quietly, but it's loud enough for him to hear it with the door cracked. He stands just outside and looks in the mirror to make sure you're okay. He can see the outline of your body through the foggy glass shower door. That's when he realizes what you're doing and swallows hard. When you cum, hard, on your own hand and say his name again, he almost loses it.

He cannot be having these thoughts about you. Sure, he's had sex with girls on missions before, it's practically his trademark, but something about this feels different. He doesn't want to fuck you. He wants to make love to you. And that thought terrifies him. He peels himself away from the door and goes to sit back on the couch. His erection is back, but there's not much he can do about it right now, so he tries to think of anything else to make it go away. He's dying to go into the other bathroom and do exactly what you just did, but he can't leave you alone. Instead, he tucks himself up under his belt quickly when he hears the water turn off.

"FUCK." He hits the couch next to him and then sits with his head in his hands. This cannot be happening.

"Are you okay?" He looks up at you quickly, standing there with your hair wet.

"Mhmmm. Yep, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." You think to yourself that he looks like he's about to cry.

"Well I am. Let's just... watch TV, okay?"

"Okay..." You sit down on the couch next to him and spend the rest of the afternoon watching TV. What you don't know is that Elvis is in misery being so close to you without touching you. And what he doesn't know is that you want him to touch you more than anything in the world.

******

Finally, evening comes and you start to get hungry.

"What's for dinner?"

"Well. I'm kind of a one-trick pony in the kitchen. I don't think you want another sandwich." He seems to have relaxed after whatever happened earlier.

"I can cook."

"Or we can just go get something."

"No, I'd like to cook for you. As a thank you for protecting me." He tries not to give himself away by how he looks at you, but the tension between you is palpable. "Can we go to the store? Is that allowed?"

"Yes, that should be fine. If they knew where we were we'd know it by now."

You get back into the Blackhawk and make your way to the grocery store. You're in a small town away from where you live, so there's only one store. Elvis stays close to you as you wander the aisles for what you need to make dinner. You also grab some essentials. He's not sure how long you'll have to be at the house, so you get food to keep you sustained for at least a few days. Once you've gotten everything you need and checked out, you make your way back to the house and get to work in the kitchen.

He watches as you move around gracefully and longs to put his arms around you. You notice him staring and decide he needs a task.

"Get over here and chop something."

"Yes ma'am." He salutes you jokingly and you set him up with some peppers.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"My grandmother. She was an amazing cook. I spent summers with her when I was a kid, so she was able to teach me."

"That's nice."

"What was your family like? Or can't you tell me?"

"I probably shouldn't." You nod. It makes sense that he can't divulge any personal secrets. But he just can't seem to tell you no. "Fuck it. I was very close to my mother growing up. There were a lot of times when it was just me, her, and the shirts on our backs. My father worked a lot. And then she died when I was 23. I had just joined the army."

He gets very quiet and looks down at the vegetables he's chopping intentionally. You walk over and put your hand on his arm gently. The contact makes his heart jump.

"I'm sorry for your loss." He looks down into your face, his eyes flicking between yours and then down to your mouth momentarily. It takes everything in him not to lean down and kiss you.

"Thank you. Anyway I joined the military and was recruited by... who I work for now... and the rest is history."

Finally, the food is ready and you sit down to eat together again. He's impressed by your culinary skills and spends the next few minutes gushing about how good dinner is. The conversation continues and you talk about everything and nothing. Somehow, you make your way around to talking about music.

"Here's a fun question: what do you like better, singing or dancing?" He asks you as the meal comes to a conclusion.

"I'm not much of a singer, but I also don't dance, so I'm not sure how to answer that question." You respond and he laughs.

"You don't dance?"

"Well, I never really have before. Haven't had much opportunity. I was too big of a nerd to go to high school dances and in college I pretty much kept to myself."

"Then, it's not that you don't dance, you just haven't yet. We need to fix that." You're surprised by his enthusiasm, but he's eager for an excuse to touch you. He turns on the radio and finds a station with a good song.

"Really, it's okay. I don't really want to dance."

"C'mon, it's not hard." He puts his arm around your waist and pulls you in close to him. You both breathe deeply and he takes your hand in his. He moves you around the room effortlessly and your embarrassment melts away. The feeling of his arm around you is enough to distract you from anything. He dips you and spins you and before you know it you're both laughing. Eventually the song ends and he holds you close to him and looks down into your face. The next song is a slow one, so he begins to sway gently.

"See, dancing's not so bad."

"No, it's fun with you." You look up at him and his eyes flick down to your lips. He wants to kiss you. You can tell. And you want to let him.

He slowly leans forward, hovering above your mouth with your noses touching. It seems like he's trying to decide something. Eventually, he moves the slightest bit forward and presses his soft lips to yours. The kiss is a sweet one, and he kisses you again like this several times. The fourth time he kisses you, though, he parts your lips with his and dips his tongue into your mouth. By this point you've stopped dancing and both of your arms are around his neck, with both of his around your waist. The heat between you picks up as your mouths move together in a rhythm.

Suddenly, he stops and pulls away from you. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs.

"Y/n, I can't. I can't do this."

"Oh... okay..."

"I'm sorry. You should go to bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Okay. I'm sorry if I-"

"You didn't do anything wrong. It's me." You nod your head and walk away from him to the bedroom. After closing the door, you change into your sleeping t-shirt and crawl under the covers. The bed seems lonely without him.

In the living room, he paces back and forth, sitting down periodically. He's going through everything in his mind and trying to convince himself that there's nothing there for you. That he can reasonably fuck you and then move on like he always has. But these thoughts are invaded by other ones: the sound of your laugh, the softness of your smile, the grace with which you moved around the kitchen, and your voice saying his name in the shower. He's never been so frustrated by a woman. He starts to get a little angry. What is it about you anyway? Who are you to come into his life and interrupt it like this? He has a job to do. You're the one being all distracting and unprofessional. He needs to set you straight. You need to know that this is completely inappropriate.

You're almost asleep when the door opens dramatically. You sit up on the side of the bed and Elvis stomps over to you and sits next to you.

"You know why I can't do this, right?" He asks aggressively. You're not sure where this anger is coming from.

"Yeah, it's your job-"

"It is my job! My job is to protect you, not... this... whatever this is..." He gestures frantically to the space between you.

"Elvis, I'm not sure why you're yelling at me." He yells even louder.

"Because! You're making me feel things I don't want to feel!" He looks at you desperately, chest heaving. Your heart is pounding.

"I'm-"

His lips crash into yours with a feverish need. Everything he's just said goes out the window as his hands run over your body and he kisses down your neck. You whimper and he groans with the intense passion. He pulls your t-shirt up over your head and off, tossing it to the side. One hand immediately goes to your breast while his mouth explores the opposite nipple. Your hands are in his hair as he works, your head thrown back in pleasure. The sensation of his lips on your breast is exquisite and you moan as he lightly pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your fingers go to the buttons on his shirt and you fumble with them for a while before he just rips it open and lets you push it backwards off of his shoulders.

He lays you down on the bed surprisingly gently and kisses down your stomach. The only thing separating you from him is your white cotton panties. He sits up on his knees, erection stretching the fabric of his pants, and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties. His eyes search yours for permission and you nod slightly as a smile spreads across his face. He pulls your panties down your legs and off and then presses his lips to your ankle. Pushing your legs open, he drags his finger up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.

"Can I make you feel good, baby?" He asks as he makes circles on you.

"God, yes, Elvis, please." You whine as he settles between your legs. He starts by pushing his tongue into you and then licking up either side of your sensitive bud. You need him to touch the right spot with his tongue so badly it almost hurts. Your legs shake with desire and he hovers about an inch away from you. You feel his breath on you and it feels like you might die with how close he is. Then, he very softly flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue. "Fuck! Elvis, please!"

Your back arches and your hips buck as you practically beg him. He continues to flick your clit with his tongue, though, adding a little more pressure each time. With each flick of his tongue, the blood rushes to your core and you feel your climax building. Finally, when you're about to scream and your orgasm is just seconds away, he dives in fully, licking your pussy with the entirety of his tongue.

"OH FUCK, ELVIS!" Your orgasm hits you like a runaway train, setting off fireworks all over your body as the pulsating waves of pleasure crash into you. He licks you through your release until you come back down to earth. Then, he sits up and wipes his face with his hand.

"I want- no, I need to make love to you. Please let me make love to you." You sit up and unbutton his pants, pushing them down to free his cock. He grunts as you take him in your hand and pump him, gently moving his foreskin back and forth.

"What are you waiting for?" You whisper. He moans deep in his throat and leans forward on top of you, kicking his pants the rest of the way off. Holding himself in one hand, he teases your clit with his tip and then lines up with your entrance. He begins to push into you slowly, giving your body a chance to adjust to his size. You feel every inch of his cock as he enters you and it fills you up perfectly. Once he's pushed into you fully, he slides almost all the way out and with a slow, deep roll of his hips fills you again. He continues to thrust into you, slow and deep, over and over. His rhythm is steady, his pace dramatic and soulful. You begin to moan softly each time his hips meet yours and he grunts in reply. There's something overwhelmingly sexy about how he's taking his time, filling you, pulling back, and then slowly filling you again. Sweat drips down his face, gathers on his chest, and wets his hair on his brow, matching your own. The feeling of him inside you is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. He reaches down to hold one of your hips, thrusting somehow even deeper than he already was. With every pump, his dick rubs against your g-spot and the slow pace has you dancing on the edge of another orgasm. Just when you think the lovemaking can't get any sweeter, he leans forward and captures your lips in a deep kiss. Then he presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. All the while, he's still sliding in and out of you, pushing deeper with each thrust.

"Goddamnit, baby. You feel so good." He kisses you again and his pace speeds up the slightest bit. Every time your hips meet, it feels like the next thrust will send you over the edge.

Without pulling out, he rolls over on his side and brings you with him, throwing your leg over his hip. He goes back to thrusting, increasing his speed, but not changing the depth of his strokes. Your eyes meet and his blue ones search yours for something. You're not sure what he's looking for, but you hope he finds it.

"Y/n, I- FUCK." He's interrupted when the coil of his orgasm snaps and he cums hard inside you, closing his eyes and shuddering against you. His release pushes you over the edge and you tumble into oblivion with him, pulsing and fluttering around him. He presses his forehead to yours again as he pumps weakly a few more times and then pulls out of you. Kissing your lips, he rolls over on his back and pulls you onto his chest.

"What were you going to say?"

"Hmm?"

"Right before you came. You were saying something."

"Oh, it was nothing." He thinks to himself that it absolutely was not nothing, but he was probably just caught up in the moment. It doesn't need saying now.

You nod and snuggle into him, hoping he doesn't try to go sleep on the couch. He doesn't, thankfully. He stays right there in the bed with you. He knows it's stupid and inappropriate, but he no longer cares. Maybe you'll be stuck together in the safe house for a long, long time. This is his last thought before you both drift off to sleep.

******

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping and the feeling of Elvis wrapped around you, both of you still naked. You're just about to revel in the closeness and daydream about what you'll do stuck in the safe house today, but Elvis sits straight up in bed.

"What-?"

"Shh, honey, hush." He says it quietly and you start to get scared. "Someone's in the house."

He jumps out of the bed and grabs his pants, pulling them on without buttoning them, and gets his gun from the nightstand. You don't even remember him putting it there.

"Get dressed, quickly and quietly." You nod and slide out of the bed, gathering your clothing and slipping it on silently. He positions you so that you can't be seen from the door and then opens it, gun in hand.

"Ah, Agent Presley. You're awake."

******

Taglist:

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#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x you #suspicious minds

[inadaydream99]

Run Away

Stray kids x reader, angst, fluff

A/N - Inspired by the prompt “Don’t run away from me.” TRIGGER WARNING OF CONTROLLING BEHAVIOUR AND MANIPULATION.

Disclaimer: extremely toxic behaviour, manipulation and bullying. I do not condone these types of behaviour, this is purely for the fictional scenarios. This does not represent any of the members in real life and if for entertainment purposes only. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything!!

Chan

If there’s one thing you should know by now, it’s that Chan is at his most frightening when he gives no reaction. Like when you refused to give him a kiss so he squeezed your waist and stared you down. That had you apologising profusely and giving him as many kisses as he wanted. Or when you were hanging out with some friends and you laughed at a comment one of them made about their partner being so clingy. You were making up for that one for an entire week.

You find yourself in a similar sort of situation right now. With Chan staring you down, little emotion evdient on his face. He’s intimidating for sure. And the silence is slowly killing you.

“Chan I-” it’s like he’s been waiting for you to finally crack, to begin speaking so he can cut you off and remind you that he’s the one in control here.

“What a poor thing. Thinking you could run away like that?” He mockingly pouts. With every step he takes forward, you take one back. Until you’re cornered with no way of escape. You stare at him like a deer in headlights, only able to watch and wait until he reaches you. The lighthearted game of cat-and-mouse you’d been playing long dissipated.

There’s barely enough time for you to register one of his hands finding its place on your waist, the other cupping your cheek and his lips smashing into yours. Your response is instantaneous, unable to resist how mind-meltingly good his kiss is.

“I win.” Chan smirks, pulling away just enough for the words to be uttered in a heated whisper. And it sends shockwaves through you, your fists clenching onto the soft cotton of his t-shirt impossibly tight with the way it makes your head spin, before he smoothly delves back in for more.

Minho

He holds you to his chest firmly, one hand on your waist and the other of the back of your head as his fingers thread through your hair.

“Did you really think you’d have a chance?” He whispers into the crown of your head before placing a kiss there. When you fail to respond he yanks you back by the grip on your hair, snatching the breath out of your lungs in a sharp gasp of pain. It forces you to meet his dark eyes, unblinking as they burn into yours.

Of course you didn’t really think you had a chance of escaping Minho. But you weren’t going to let that stop you from trying. And with the perfect opportunity presenting itself, you would have been stupid not to take it…

You couldn’t believe it when you had walked into your shared bedroom to find the window had been left ajar. At first you thought it was your mind playing tricks on you. But when you had moved closer to examine and felt the cold on your skin, you knew you weren’t imagining it.

It had taken all of two seconds to decide what your next move was. You could still hear the shower running and knew that even if Minho was to enter the room in the next few minutes, he would be soaking wet and undressed. So you hoisted the window up and took a seat on the ledge. If only you hadn’t hesitated for so long about the drop…

You were only two stories up, but the ground still looked a million miles away. In your assessing of any alternative way to climb down the bricks or use the piping as a ladder, you hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on around you. The shower had shut off, the door to your bedroom had opened and Minho had quietly approached you. Only, you weren’t aware until you felt both of his hands grip onto your shoulders and pull you backwards. After scrambling to your feet, he’d pulled you into his firm hold. Which brings you back to exactly where this started.

“You not going to answer me Princess?” You’re still tongue-tied by his piercing gaze and now he’s smirking at you too. You place one of your hands on his chest for support, only realising he’s shirtless when you feel the cool water droplets against his hot skin.

“I’m… sorry?” You gulp, posing your weak apology as more of a question, unsure of what answer he is looking for. Minho just snickers at you, finally releasing his grip from your hair in preference of placing his palm back on your shoulder to push you down.

“Show me how sorry you are then.”

Changbin

“Don’t ever leave me. It’ll only break my heart.” Your thumb strokes Changbin’s cheek. You’re eye-to-eye, noses brushing as he mutters his confession into your lips.

“How could I ever?” You smile into him, placing a peck to his lips. “I’m so in love with you.”

Your friends had expressed concern to you over how clingy you are with your boyfriend. They’d said you’re so obsessed with him, that it’s not good to be too dependent on your relationship. But how could you not be obsessed with Changbin? You’re absolutely head-over-heals smitten with him. As he is for you.

After confessing your friend’s strong opinions to him, Changbin had immediately panicked. The thought of not having you in his life petrified him. How could your friends not want you together? How could they not see how perfect you are for him or how happy he makes you? Do they not want you to be happy? Do they just want you all to themselves?

With all of these questions racing through his mind, Changbin knows he can’t let them take you away from him. He knows that he has to get you to give them up. You only need him. No one else.

So he’d put his plan into action. Over the last few weeks, Changbin had been coddling you. You were never out of his sight for more than 60 seconds. He’d even been checking through your phone after you’d gone to sleep each night, just to ensure that no one was trying to steal you away from him. Several of your friends had stopped talking to you after he’d replied to their messages telling them you don’t want to be friends anymore. But you were none the wiser to this, too preoccupied with Changbin’s lovey-dovey distractions to notice.

And now it’s time for his final part of securing you for good. Changbin knows all he has to do is look at you with those heart-eyes of his and you’re putty in his hands.

“Lets run away and get married.”

Hyunjin

“I’ve given up everything for you and this is how you repay me?” Hyunjin’s hands exasperatedly flail in the air, finally falling to brush through his hair as he paces back and forth. Meanwhile, you are frozen, back pressed firmly against the door that you’d been unsuccessful at unlocking. “Do you want me to suffer?” He stalks over to you, closing off so much space you’re practically chest to chest.

You suck in your breath, staring up at him to meet his erratic gaze. You can practically see all of the thoughts buzzing around his mind.

“Baby…” you weakly utter as you place your small hand in his bicep. Anything to try to get him so out of his head. Upon this, Hyunjin’s attention falls to where you hold onto him, his other hand reaching over and gently intercepting where your hand touches him to interlace your fingers instead. His forehead falls to rest on yours, his eye shut as he regulates his breathing. “…I just thought-”

“You didn’t think.” He cuts you off. “You scared me. I thought I’d lost you for good.” He finally opens his eyes to reveal the tears he’d been holding back.

“You could never lose me like that.” You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat. You’d never meant to worry Hyunjin so much. It’s just, after the argument you’d had, you felt like going on a walk to clear your head would do you good. You had planned to slip out of your apartment for 10 minutes without Hyunjin knowing. But, of course, he’d caught you trying to unlock the front door and you froze.

You watch as he sniffles, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. Instinctively, you deranged your hands and reach up to wipe it away with your thumb, continuing to caress his skin as your hand trails down to his neck, then shoulder, then arm. All the way until you reach his hand and interlace your fingers once again. It seems the delicate touch soothes him, settling his blubbering down until he’s calm. But his grip on your hand remains firm, like he’s scared that you’ll pull away and disappear into thin air.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you baby.” Hyunjin’s voice is a whisper after a moment of silence. With his forehead still resting against yours there’s no need to speak any louder. You watch as his eyes rake over your face until they land on your lips.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You respond equally as softly. “We’ll work through this.”

Jisung

If there’s one thing that Jisung is flawless at, it’s guilt tripping you. He’s aware he’s got many talents, but keeping you wrapped around his finger is the one he’s most proud of.

“Am I not enough for you?” Jisung’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, his bottom lip wobbling. “Do I not provide you with everything you could ever want?” Another rhetorical question is thrown at you before you have any chance to form a string of word-vomit to his first one.

“Yes baby, you-” you begin, the words getting caught in your throat as Jisung takes a step closer to you. You watch as he kneels.

“Then why would you try to leave me like that?” He’s on his knees before you, looking up at you with the most innocent eyes you have ever seen. Your gaze flickers onto where his hands clutch at the rope that bounds your ankles to the chair, pulling it tighter and burning into your skin, making you hiss. “Why would you run away?”

“I’m sorry!” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to cry. Your body thrashes about as you feel Jisung move to where your hands are tied behind your back, grabbing the rope and pulling it harshly. “Please let me go.”

You feel like the biggest idiot alive. How could you think that you wouldn’t get caught when you ran away… you wish you could take it back. If you could go back in time then you would try an alternative way to calm yourself instead of panicking and making a run for it in the middle of the night.

You’d only intended to get a glass of water, having woken up in Jisung’s arms after a nightmare. It was a humid night and you felt so panicked that you wanted - no needed - fresh air. You were shocked to find the key in the back door and couldn’t resist just stepping outside for a moment. You convinced yourself that Jisung would never know, that you’d simply allow yourself a few moments to cool down and then you’d re-lock the door and go back to bed.

But even the fresh air couldn’t settle you and you found yourself having flashbacks to the nightmare. Before you knew it, you were running and running and running…

Jisung takes a step back, observing how helpless you look all tied up. He’s not ready for your pleas for forgiveness yet. Not when he watched how little you hesitated at leaving him. Of course he was awake when you left your bed. Of course he followed you as you stood by the back door and contemplated opening it. Of course he caught you before you made it to the end of the street.

Felix

“Maybe you should run away… start life over in a new place.”

Felix is many things. He’s your sunshine, your main supporter and your most favourite person in the world. He’s so sweet and thoughtful and always goes out of his way to make people happy. He would move heaven and Earth for you just to make you smile.

Which is exactly why you aren’t surprised he’s so accepting of your plans to ditch the small town you’ve both grown up in.

It breaks his heart to think of his life without you in it. For years you’ve been his rock, the one person he could go to about anything, his home. But Felix guesses the saying is true, if you love someone then you have to let them go. He could never be the reason you don’t live your life to the fullest.

Even a week later, he still can’t process you’re about to leave. He’s helping you pack the last of your things into your suitcase, taking in the bare walls of your childhood bedroom. You share so many memories in here. Like the first time your parents let you have a sleepover and you’d spent all night on a sugar high. Nor will Felix ever forget the countless times you’ve given him makeovers, tying his hair into little piggy-tails with little bows. He looks over to where you are now, lying on your bed and staring at your phone. He can’t help the heart-eyes as he takes you in, still as hopelessly in love with you now as he was back then.

“Lix?” You call out to him without looking away from your phone, his heart skips a beat as he responds with a “yeah?” alongside an amused puff of air through his nose. “You missed a spot.”

Finally your eyes move to focus on him, unable to hide the devilish smirk any longer. Upon this, Felix makes a stand, dropping the items he’d been so carefully placing into your suitcase for you to instead make his way to where you are still lying lazily on your bed. He’s laughing giddily as he approaches, raising his hands in preparation for a tickle attack.

“No!” You squeal, trying and failing to wriggle yourself away before he reaches you. But it’s futile when he’s far quicker and stronger. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You plead through shrieks of laughter. “I surrender!”

“So easily?” Felix teases, raising a brow at you as the tickles momentarily pause. He’s pinned you down beneath him, keeping you in his hold. Both of you beaming at each other as you regain your breath.

The silence that settles around you quickly goes from lighthearted to something deeper as you continue to stare at each other. You watch Felix’s smile slowly fade, turning more and more thoughtful. Until you notice how one of his hands (which had been holding him up on either side of your head) has begun to slowly move closer to you. The next thing you know, the pad of his thumb is gently smoothing over your cheek.

Felix watches as you bite down on your bottom lip, your eyes growing wider in a soft, doe sort of way. By now, your faces a mere inches apart, noses touching and his hot breath fanning your face.

“Is this ok?” His voice is so low, almost strained from how much he’s having to hold himself back. You whisper a breathy “yes” as your eyes flutter shut, his lips connecting with yours instantly.

When you pull apart, you know you’re done for. There’s no way you can leave Felix after he’s just kissed you like that. So you desperately plead him before he’s able to close the space between you once again.

“Come with me.”

Seungmin

You can’t remember the last time you left this house. Or the last time you felt the sun on your skin; the wind in your hair; the smell of fresh cut grass or the sounds of birds chirping in the trees. You’ve been held hostage for so long you’re starting to forget what the world beyond the window is like.

You’ve tried - really really tried - to escape. But every time you’ve thought of a new way to deceive him and finally make a run for it, your plan has been foiled and you’ve been caught. He’s just too quick to miss any of your tricks. It’s impossible to outsmart him, to think of anything that he hasn’t already… and so you remain trapped by him, helplessly watching the world go by from the window.

Until he catches you trying to smash the glass (something that you have tried and failed at many times before). Thank goodness Seungmin had taken every precaution and gotten bulletproof windows. It’s actually amusing watching you struggle. You’re so desperate to escape him that you actually think your tiny fist could cause enough damage to set you free?

“When you finally decide to give up, I have dinner ready downstairs.” Your breath gets caught in your throat, fist frozen mid-air as you jolt your body to face him.

Stood in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest and a devilishly amused smirk on his lips. He looks both menacing and heart-meltingly attractive. He turns before you are able to form any sort of coherent response and you listen to his footsteps grow distant as he makes his way back down the stairs.

“So let me get this straight.” Seungmin continues to chew on his food. “You want to run away?” He says it like it’s nothing, like he’s not keeping you captive here.

You’re at a loss for words and haven’t eaten a single morsel, too anxious from the anticipating of what the repercussions of your attempted escape may be.

“Baby please eat something.” He sighs when he realises you haven’t so much as moved since you arrived to the dining table. But you have no apatite. And what’s making things worse is that Seungmin is acting so unnatural. Usually he would have punished you for misbehaving by now.

“I’m not hungry.” You mumble, refusing to look at him. Instead you sit with your hands in your lap, continuing to remain as still as possible. That is until you hear his heavy sigh and the clatter of his fork as it’s put down onto his plate.

“You’re really pushing it, you know that right?” It’s now you choose to cast a brief glance to meet Seungmin’s displeased frown. He’s watching you intently, his dark brown eyes staring at you so deeply you’re sure if you were to look at him for long enough he’d be able to hypnotise you.

“Then punish me.” You sound like you’ve given up all hope. Defeated.

It’s funny, Seungmin has always wanted to get you to this point. He’s dreamed countless times of what it would be like when you finally give up, when your resolve and determination to escape him have gone. But right now, witnessing how broken you look, he doesn’t feel as triumphant as he thought he would.

It’s now that he realises that he doesn’t want you to give up just yet. He likes the chase. Its exhilarating. And he finds himself trying to think of a way to get you back. Maybe he could accidentally leave the back door unlocked and see how long it would take you to notice? Maybe it would be fun to let you have your wish of running away just so he can hunt you down and reclaim you as his prize…

Jeongin

“How could you run away like that?” You roll your eyes at your best friend’s tone. He’s reprimanding you exactly how your parents did when you were a child.

“Y’know I’m not some helpless little child. I can take care of myself.” It’s apparent that your flat-toned comment rubs Jeongin the wrong way, his frown deepening and his fists clenching tighter by his sides.

“I know you’re not.” He clenches his teeth. “But you’re certainly acting like one right now and running away from your problems isn’t helping your case.” You scoff.

“And what do you know of my problems?” You sass, folding your arms defensively. You thought you could go to Jeongin about anything. That’s exactly why you’d rushed to his place after having a terrible argument with your boyfriend. Well, that and the fact that the argument you had with your boyfriend was over his jealousy of your friendship with Jeongin.

“What I know is that whatever the argument was about, it’s probably not worth you running away and ruining your relationship.” Jeongin sighs, signalling defeat with his rational response. If only he knew…

“It was about you.” His eyes go wide upon your confession. “I ran away becuase he wanted me to choose.”

Jeongin’s sure he goes through every emotion possible within a single second. The processing of your words, to anger at your boyfriend. There’s heartbreak for you at the thought of someone putting you in that position. Then a few more waves of emotions until he finally settles on hope. Hope that you could possibly - finally - share his feelings for you. Because you ran away and came to him. Because you have chosen… him?

“And what did you choose?” Jeongin finally makes eye contact with you, staring so deeply into your eyes. You take a step closer without so much as blinking. You’re so close you can feel the body heat radiating off of him.

“You Innie.”

#stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids oneshots #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #skz fluff #skz angst #skz x reader #skz oneshots #skz reactions #skz fanfic #skz drabbles #skz scenarios #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop fanfiction

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 4

Here's everything I shared during the ask game event with some minor edits. Most of the edits are around the results of the scan, I more accurately described what I was trying to say.

Story Summary: Everything changed the evening Jason met Jazz's brother. Danny introduced him and his entire family to the ghost that is, apparently, haunting him. The ghost of the Robin he had been.

The ghost of the person everyone he's ever known wishes he still was.

All he wants is to make it go away.

Arc 1: First, Last

Arc 2: First, Previous

Word Count: 1.7k

-----

Frostbite looked between them and hummed. “I should like a blood sample from you”—he nodded to Jason—“and an ectoplasm sample from you”—he indicated the ghost—“please hold out one of your arms.”

Jason sighed and gave his left arm. The yeti took out a syringe, thankfully a normal sized one, though it looked tiny in his giant hands. He watched as Frostbite carefully pierced his vein and filled a vial with blood. It went as smoothly as any blood draw he’d ever received from Dr. Thompkins or Alfred.

“You’re good at that,” he commented.

The yeti gave him an amused look. “I should hope so. I have been a doctor for many times longer than you’ve been alive.”

Jason flushed. “Sorry, it’s just… I wasn’t sure how many living patients you’ve ever had.”

“Many ghosts come to us for healing. And of those who were once alive, their ghostly bodies often mimic the ones they had in life. It is not so different, drawing blood from a living body as it is drawing ectoplasm from a ghostly one.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense. I didn’t realize.”

Frostbite ruffled his hair and it took every ounce of self control he had to not pull away. “That is quite all right. You will learn in time.”

Jason had to bite his tongue to keep from saying he didn’t want to learn.

But the doctor was already turning to the interloper and reaching for his arm. Jason couldn’t help but watch as they made more of those chirps and trills at each other. The ones from Frostbite were much deeper than the ones from Danny or the ghost, but they were unmistakably the same sort of noises.

When Frostbite took the ectoplasm sample, it really didn’t look any different than a normal blood draw. Except the resulting fluid was bright Lazarus-green. He shuddered and looked away.

Frostbite pulled out what looked like a transparent tablet and typed something on it. “A technician will be along shortly to collect the samples and run a few tests on them. Now, Prince Phantom said he scanned you and it showed the two of you are tied together. I should like to repeat the process but with our own scanners.”

“What do your scanners do?” asked Jason.

“I will show you. See this machine?” Frostbite indicated a machine that was positioned in the corner of the room. It looked like an old-fashioned x-ray machine you might find at a dentists’ office. It was about the size of a standing shower and was mostly open. “This part here”—he touched a piece of metal that reached from floor to ceiling—“will circle around the two of you and track your ectoplasm. It serves a similar purpose in ghost anatomy to an x-ray of a human. From the readings, I will be able to assess your core, young Robin, and your liminality, Sir Jason.”

“Just Jason, please.”

“Are you not a warrior of your people? And you are courting Princess Jasmine. No, to call you anything else would be improper.”

Jason flushed. “Then what should I call you? Aren’t you the leader here? Is it King Frostbite?”

“You may call me Doctor or Chief Frostbite should you wish.”

“You’ve got it, Dr. Frostbite. So will you have to scan us together? Doesn’t look like there’s a lot of room in there.”

Frostbite hummed. “I believe three full scans, one of each of you alone and one with both of you together. I apologize for the size; this is the first time we’ve had to scan two individuals together like this.”

Jason scowled, but didn’t comment. He would do anything to get rid of the interloper.

Before they could start, however, a knock sounded on the door. Frostbite opened it to reveal two more yetis.

“Ah, Silverclaw and Snowfur. Thank you for getting here so quickly.” He grabbed the vials of blood and ectoplasm. “These are the samples I want tested.”

“Of course, Chief. We’ll get to work on them right away.”

“I know you will. Thank you.” Frostbite nodded his farewell. Once the two yetis had left, he shut the door and turned back to Jason and the ghost. “Which of you would like to get scanned first?”

Before Jason could even think of volunteering, the ghost let out a trill and flew to the machine.

Frostbite chuckled. “Very well, young one. I shall begin the process shortly. Please remain still as the scan is in progress.”

Jason watched, curious, as Frostbite pressed a few buttons. The machine whirred to life, blue lines lighting up along the metal. Then the panel Frostbite had pointed out before slowly rotated around the ghost. Five times it completed the circuit before stopping in it’s original position by the wall.

A screen lit up on the wall, also transparent like the tablet, and on it images very much like a human x-ray appeared. Only instead of bones, it showed a ball of red-orange light. Tendrils spread out in the shape of a humanoid body. A thick cord of light extended off the screen. The cord was mostly gray and it’s tendrils wound around the red-orange ball and mixed in with the branches that made up the rest of the ghost’s body.

Frostbite hummed, but didn’t comment further, and Jason didn’t know him well enough to know if it was a good or bad hum. “Sir Jason, it is your turn.”

The ghost flew out of the scanner and Jason entered. “Will it feel like anything?”

The doctor shook his head. “Indeed not. You may hear a humming, but the scan itself will not affect you in any other way.”

“So I just need to stand here for a minute while it goes?”

“Indeed. Simply remain still. Are you ready?”

Jason took a deep breath and stood tall, arms by his side. “Go ahead.”

Frostbite hit a button and the device lit up with the same blue light he’d seen before. Then the scanner began rotating around him. As the yeti had promised, he didn’t feel anything but the hum of the machine.

And soon enough, it settled back into its rest position.

Jason didn’t wait for permission before stepping out and taking a look at the results of the scan. The same cord of light that had been coming off the ghost seemed to be stretching to him. Tendrils of it wrapped around the areas where his heart and brain would be if the scan showed human organs. Thinner tendrils stretched through the rest of his body, but the majority clustered around his heart and brain. His light was mostly gray with the red and orange bleeding in.

Chills ran down his spine. The ghost had integrated himself entirely into Jason’s body. Would it even be possible to get rid of him without killing himself? But could he go on living knowing that the interloper, no, the parasite was tied so closely to him? He’d finally started to move on from his death and the anger!

“Calm down, Sir Jason.” Frostbite’s steady voice cut through his thoughts. “We have one more scan and then I shall explain my theories as to what is going on and how we might address the situation.”

Jason gave a single nod and unclenched his fists. He closed his eyes and took a few seconds to go through a breathing exercise Jazz had taught him. “Fine,” he said when he was sure he wouldn’t start throwing out cursed.

Didn’t stop him from stomping over to the scanner.

Frostbite rested one giant paw on his head for a moment. “I understand this is a lot for you. But I will assist you to the best of my abilities.” He glanced away from Jason towards the interloper. “Both of you.”

Jason frowned but didn’t bother mentioning that that was what he was worried about.

“Now, young Robin. If you could come here as well.”

Frostbite took a moment arranging Jason and the ghost within the scanner. This was the closest Jason had been to the interloper since he learned about his existence and the proximity raised goosebumps on his arm. Why did things like this always have to happen to him? He hated it. He just wanted to go back to arguing with Bruce and trading insults with Tim and pranking Dick. But he couldn’t do that if the ghost of who he’d used to be was following him everywhere.

Jason closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the creature’s stupid uniform or too-young face.

Then the humming started again and Jason could only assume he the scanner was running. He held entirely still, both because the scanner needed it and because he and the ghost were so close that if he moved, they might brush arms or touch.

He held back a shudder and didn’t open his eyes until the humming had stopped.

He couldn’t have said who evacuated the scanner first, they both rushed out quickly and set themselves up on either side of Frostbite while the image loaded.

As predicted, it was as if the two previous scans had been put together. The cord connecting Jason and the ghost was thick and strong. It originated from what Jason could only assume was the ghost’s core and spread out until it latched onto Jason’s brain and heart.

Frostbite hummed again. “I will need to ask both of you some questions that you may not want to answer. I apologize in advance for any discomfort my questions may cause. But let us get comfortable first. Afterwards, I shall explain my suspicions.”

Jason nodded and took a seat on the examination bed that Frostbite gestured to. Robin crossed his legs and appeared to sit in midair. The doctor pulled up a chair for himself and settled in.

Even sitting and with Jason on a high bed, they were roughly eye-to-eye due to the yeti’s large size.

“Young Robin, what do you remember of the time between your death and Sir Jason’s resurrection?”

The ghost, of course, only replied in the trilling language, leaving Jason out of the conversation. Asshole could’ve signed if he wanted to. Jason bit his tongue to keep from saying anything, though.

After a time, Frostbite nodded and turned to Jason. “And now, Sir Jason, I must know how you were brought back to life.”

-----

Ah, Jason really isn't going to like this conversation. None of it is fun, but this conversation will be his least favorite.

And look at Robin being just as petty back! Refusing to bring Jason in on the conversation.

How will they move forward from this?

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#dpxdc #wolf writes #anger management ship #jason todd #ghost jason #frostbite (dp) #its fun thinking of what ghost medicine might look like #ghost bio is so different from human bio #(but I did cheat a bit with the blood sample) #(its okay as long as I can justify it in story!)

[krulersblog]

Tyler and his friend Danny went back to Tyler's house after their classes that day. When they walked in they saw Tyler's older brother Devin laying shirtless and barefoot on the couch.

Devin looked up from his game and saw them, what he also saw was both of them looking at his feet.

"Hey losers, what's up? You wanna take a whiff?" Devin said holding up his massive size 14 feet and wiggling his long toes at them. He watched Danny blush and avert his gaze and try and cover his growing hard on.

"Yeah right, sure." Tyler laughed sarcastically.

Devin smirked and held up his hand, "Well, if you boys insist." Devin began to wiggle his long fingers at the two. Danny's expression began to fade and mindlessly he began to walk over to Devin's feet.

Tyler spoke, "B-bro, w-what are you d-doin..." His voice trailed off as his gaze fixated on Devin's big feet.

Both boy's knelt down before Devin's hypnotic feet. And stared deeply into them as Devin began wiggling his toes again. "Look at my feet you two, look at my huge soles that cover your whole face, and my long smelly toes waiting to trap your nose. You know you want them so bad right? You know you wanna worship them, and you know that you want to forget everything and just exist to serve them? This is it. This is your purpose. To be with my feet. Now, sniff."

Devin pushed his feet into the boys faced and gripped their nose with his toes as they began to inhale his foot smell desperately.

"Such good boys. My god, that amount of my scent you just took in probably wiped your brain completely. I doubt if I took my feet away from you that you'd remember anything other than the pure desire to serve my feet. Oh well, you'll be better off with what I am about to do to you anyway."

Devin pulled his feet away from his new slaves faces and held them about an inch away so they could still only focus on his feet.

"Now, in a moment you two are going to kiss my soles. As your lips touch my sweaty feet, your mind and soul will be taken from you and absorbed right into my feet and your bodies will melt down and transform into a nice pair of socks for me. Now my soon to be feet, go ahead and kiss your existence away to my feet."

Both boys instantly leaned into their new existence and kissed Devin's soles. As they did their consciousness and existence was transferred into Devin's feet. They felt him, they were his sweaty soles, and his wiggling smelly toes, and the rough skin on his heels. That's all they were now. Unable to control their bodies they just had to give in and let Devin take total control over them and exist in the soft smelly sweaty bliss that was being Devin's huge feet.

"I hope you losers like it down their. Because this is permanent, I'm never turing you little foot lovers back. Not that you'd even want to, I mean, who wouldn't wanna spend the rest of their existence as one of these big hypnotic addicting beauties?"

#inanimate tf #inanimate transformation #bodypart transformation #feet tf #bodyparttf #foot tf #foottf #feettf

[ecoamerica]

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