#on my bed. and sometimes i’d be home alone and hear him typing in the office and then remember no one was there and the typing would stop

[homestylehughes]

jack Hughes- noise

noise- jack hughes

summary: where jack is the only noise you ever want to hear.

wc:725

PSAAAA: hiii!!! if you clicked on this story thank you so much!! I'm new to writing on tumblr so I'm still learning!! so pls be nice ( I promise I'll get better) anyways hope you enjoy, let me know what you think below (omfg I'm sorry this is so long I'll stfu now<3)

fic below:

time is moving slowly, each time i look at the clock. time is moving slower and slower. I used to love being alone, i used to love my noiseless life, or the noises that i found simple and easy. like the noise of my ac blowing when doing my homework. or the occasional noise of my favorite records i’d play, and dance too around my apartment at 2 am. now i have a different type of noise in my life, jack hughes. 

if you would have told me a year and half ago, i be waiting to hear noise fill up my life and apartment; i’d tell you you’re crazy. my noise being jack hughes. there’s nights like these where i really want him here, to feel his noise.  

the devils lost to the Sharks tonight 6-3. after coming off a 3 game heater, i knew this loss would be hard for them. for him. i waited for him to call, to hear the noise of his ringtone, for it to ring through my ears. constantly glancing at the clock on my wall, as i see the time ticking by, slower and slower. i just wanted to hear my favorite noise. after most losses, jack didn’t come over. i respected that, i knew he needed space sometimes, and i would always give that too him. but right now i was missing my noise, i wanted nothing more than to grab my keys and head out the door, drive 40 minutes to his place. i wanted nothing more than to call in 15 times, spam him with texts, to let him know that i missed him and that i’m here for him. that i missed his noise.  

the game ended 3 hours ago. i keep looking at the clock, time is still moving slowly. i make my way to my bedroom, throwing on one jacks shirts. i slowly make my way to my bed, a bed that feels cold without him. i close my eyes, and try to think of something that can send me off to sleep. all of my thoughts are about jack, and how much i miss his smile. his laugh. his sassy comments. his kisses, oh god how much i miss his kisses. and most importantly his noise. my thoughts are starting to slowly fade, my eyes start to slowly close. as my eyes flutter close for the last time.

 i hear a pounding at my door, i glance at my clock and the time reads 3:30 am. who’s here at 3:30 am? i slowly make my way through my apartment, turning a light in the hallway, in which i immediately regret. i turn the handle at the door, not knowing who to expect. my mind goes foggy when i see jack standing in my hallway. all my thoughts are immediately consumed by him again. all of my thoughts are consumed by his noise.

“hi” i say, as i look at jack who’s still standing in the hallway outside my apartment. “hi” jack breathes back out to me. our eyes never leave each other. i can’t take the space anymore, i can’t take the silence. i need his noise.

 i pull him into my apartment and slam the door behind us. the next thing i know is jacks body slamming into mine. pulling me into the biggest and tightest hug ive ever received. we stand in my living room of my apartment, embraced in each other arms. no words need to be said between us. i slowly pull apart, too look into his eyes. scanning his face to see any sign of injury, instead all i find is love and calmness.

 i grab his hand and led him into my room. knowing my bed will no longer be cold with him in it. no other words have been exchanged yet, no other words need to be exchanged. we get into bed, and jack quickly pulls me into his flush body.

i can feel his noise. i can hear his noise. the steady sound of his breathing. the sound of his heart beating beneath me. this is all i need. his noise. my favorite noise jack. my jack. i slowly fall asleep to the sound of his noise, and now i'm no longer alone. my noise, my home is back.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #jack hughes #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n

[bagopucks]

N. Hischier - Smile Again

✄————————————

Nico Hischier x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

She’s a long one, with a possible part 2

Warning(s): depression, talk of injury, not eating?

—————————————

Work is exhausting. That much, is apparent to me. I don’t know why it has to be so tiresome. I don’t know why I ever thought traveling would be so much fun. I enjoyed it at first. I loved it even. Being an architectural drafter was a dream I’d had since I was old enough to develop decent art skills. I grew up in a small city in Ohio, Wheeling. The buildings were known for their old exterior and design. I used to walk the streets of that city after school with my brother on the way home. I used to jerk on his arm and stop him to point out the designs and colors.

Traveling, at one point, had been my favorite part of the job. After graduating from college with a degree in my field, I found a company in New Jersey that I loved. I hadn’t been thrilled about the location, but I was willing to make sacrifices for the income and the dream of doing what I loved. I’ve only been out of the country once, and in many states aside from where I currently reside. The coasts were my favorite. But traveling quickly lost its luster when I met Nico. My brother had been in town visiting, and with the Blue Jackets playing the Devils on one of the evenings he was there, he decided to buy tickets and take me. I grew up in a sports family, and I was particularly fond of football, but hockey was never my style per se. After the Devils won, my brother insisted we go out to grab a bite to eat in the cultural district of the city. A place that had some of the most wonderful food I’ve ever eaten.

I met Nico in an Italian restaurant. A mom and pop type of location. I don’t know what possessed me to interrupt his meal, but he’d been alone, and he was beautiful under the soft warm glow of a half burnt out light bulb overhead. My brother looked horrified when I went to speak to the dark haired man, but I hadn’t realized until later that evening, that my brother hadn’t been horrified, he’d been betrayed. He had the same look on his face when I told him Nico and I had gotten together. It made Nico giggle.

Traveling was something Nico was used to. Something he had a love hate relationship with, as did I. He loved traveling to experience new cultures in the states. He loved the foods and trying to find places that reminded him of Sweden. He enjoyed finding me little gifts and postcards. His favorite routine he’d fallen into, was trying to find my name on the little necklaces and license plates that souvenir stores have. Some days he is lucky, and others he is not. But it gives us something more to look forward to when he arrives home.

With his most recent injury though, it has been me who is trying and failing again and again to find his name on anything. Nico had broken his ankle about a week ago. And in that week, I’d done my best to look after him and keep him distracted. Nothing pains him more to be away from his team and his career. But when I was informed that I would be traveling again, for a special project, my heart sank. I used to love traveling. Now I love Nico. And to leave him in a time of need.. it hurt to think about.

When I broke the news to him, he put on a brave face. He pursed his lips and nodded up at me from the couch. I could hear Adam Sandler yelling at a golf ball from the iPad on his lap while the gears in his head seemed to turn. He’d always been insistent that the huge flat screen on the wall was never close enough to enjoy each and every little detail. Sometimes I wondered if he needed glasses. In this moment, I wondered if he would need a better support system. I ended up on the couch with him that night, leaning back against the arm rest at one end, with Nico laying between my legs, his head resting against my chest while he finished his movie and picked another. By the time we slinked off to bed, I could tell the news had finally sank in. I felt too guilty to hold him. Too horrible to even ask for affection before I left. So I slept facing away from him while he stared at the back of my head and tried to find a way to ask if I could stay.

Nico never came up with anything. By the morning, I was packed, had kissed my boyfriend goodbye, and slipped out the door. Before I boarded my flight, I made sure to text Jack and remind him to check up on Nico here and there, and even offer to get him out of the house. As long as it wasn’t for hockey. Nico called the first few nights, and texted me nonstop, but eventually his attempts to reach out had dwindled. I feared that he had gotten sick of the long distance. Despite the fact that he is always the one away for work, I couldn’t shake the feeling that me being gone caused him to feel some form of neglect. I reached out to ask how he was doing a few times, but overall I gave him his space for the remainder of the week. By Saturday, today, I was shaking in my boots- trying to get him to answer the phone. What if he wasn’t okay? What if he hated me for leaving?

I only asked Jack twice over the time I’d been gone, how Nico was. And each time, the middle Hughes brother had responded with, ‘he’s doing good.’ No more, no less. I didn’t know that they hadn’t actually spent any time together. I knew I couldn’t text Jack today though, because he was at a morning skate. Instead, I focused my nerves on my bouncing knees and endless flight snacks. And Tetris. Once I landed, I had found an Uber and told the man up front my address. Usually I’d ask someone to pick me up, but my mind was hyper focused on Nico, and an Uber would get me to him faster than one of his teammates.

I tried texting one last time, hopeful that this one would warrant a response: Hey, Nix! I’m on my way home from the airport. Be there in 10.

I went the full ten minutes frantically checking my phone every time I psyched myself into feeling a buzz or hearing a ding. I never got a response.

The moment the taxi pulled over, I already had money in my hand, rushing the words ‘keep the change’ out of my mouth as I scrambled out of the car and dragged my suitcase and laptop bag with me. A wheel on my suitcase broke off when the bag nicked the curb, causing curses to fall from my lips as I spared one look at the lost piece of my unnecessarily expensive bag. One look was all it got, before I was dashing inside the apartment complex I’d known for a year. I almost took the steps before talking myself down from the adrenaline. You’d never get up to your floor before passing out. It was a trip that would have been faster for Nico and his strong legs, but not me. So I waited uncomfortably in the elevator, alongside an elderly woman who wore such a bright smile it made me want to ask her how she could be so happy in a situation like this.

“I swear, suitcases just fall apart at horrible times. Don’t they?” The woman spoke up, and I finally turned my head to look at her. She had blonde but greying hair. Shorter than me- though we’d be close to the same height if I wasn’t wearing converses with thick soles. Perhaps in her 50’s. She was wearing a smile on pink painted lips that matched her bright pink shirt. Her clothes were nothing special, but she looked like a supermodel in that outfit compared to Nico’s navy sweatpants that I wore- and the dark green crop top that was wrinkled everywhere. “There’s a place at the mall that sells great bags. A lot more durable than that piece of junk.”

I could tell she wasn’t trying to be rude, merely insulting a bag that had the audacity to lose a piece of itself when it was needed most. I didn’t realize that my boyfriend was in the same situation in a room up above. I huffed out a ‘thank you’ when the elevator doors opened, stepping out and making a sharp turn down the hall, jogging with the weight of two bags holding me down. The second I got to the apartment door, I dropped my laptop bag. Not my brightest moment.. but Nico.

I fished in my pockets for the keys to the door before finding them, my hands shaking as my anxieties bubbled over the edge of my emotional dam. After I got the door unlocked, I grabbed my laptop bag, moving it maybe a foot from outside of the door to the inside, before dropping it on the floor and setting my suitcase down. The broken wheel was long forgotten until the suitcase fell with a hard slam, the sound echoing through the eerily quiet and dark apartment. I let the door swing shut behind me, fear and hesitance filling my chest as I examined the area around me.

“Nico?” Maybe he wasn’t home. My eyes flickered toward the mat that sat beside the door frame. Nico’s favorite shoes were still there. I looked toward the living room to my left, taking notice of the way the blinds were overlapped to minimize the amount of light that came through. I made my way over to the couch, snatching up the unfolded blanket and the iPad left out. “Nico!” I called again, this time a little more forcefully. Maybe he’d rear his head if he thought I was mad.

He did not. I finally decided to face my fears, holding me back from trudging down the hall to find him. What was I so afraid of? “Baby, I’m home.” I let out a soft sigh, the blanket I held dragging the ground like a child going to find their mother in the night. I peeked into the bathroom, not a single thing out of place. I stopped by the small guest room -which we turned into a reading room of sorts- but he wasn’t in there either. I should have assumed he was in our bedroom. It was the only door in the apartment that was closed. I adopted a much quieter step as I twisted the doorknob, pushing the white barrier open, wincing at the creak.

“Nico.” I whispered this time, wondering if maybe he was asleep. But the blankets on our bed were a holy mess.. and nowhere to be found was my devil. So I left the iPad and blanket on the bed, and checked the master bathroom. Nothing. Not even a towel on the floor. Which he was guilty of leaving from time to time. As I went to close the bathroom door, I finally heard a shuffle- my head whipping as the rest of my body turned to look back into the bedroom. A pair of feet finally appeared from behind the corner of the bed. Silence followed the shuffle, and movement ceased. Relief flooded my system for a solid second before I began to wonder why he was laying on the floor. I cautiously made my way around the bed, leaning forward to see him before I even crossed the room. My heart broke.

Of all the time I’d known Nico, I’ve only ever seen him truly upset maybe a handful of times. He’s a sweet man. A caring one. A driven one. He doesn’t like to open up, and I can understand. Nobody likes to feel like a bother. But this look? A glazed over, empty, lost look.. it was not something I’d ever known his face to hold. He was curled up on the floor, wearing an old teal sweatshirt of mine that I bought in college. It was meant to be over sized on me, but on him it fit just right. He had on a pair of sweats as well, one pant leg bunched up to his knee -so it wouldn’t bother his cast- while the other was just above his ankle. I would have assumed he just took the best nap of his life, but the darkness under his eyes accompanied by red let me know that he hadn’t slept in a while.

I questioned if Nico had earbuds in, but I couldn’t see from the way the hood of my sweatshirt was pulled over his head. I carefully stepped over him, my heart clenching as I slowly knelt down, reaching out to gently pull the hood from Nico’s head. No earbuds, and completely unresponsive. “Nico, baby. What are you doing?” My words were soft, slowly sitting down as I ran my hand through his hair, grimacing momentarily at the feeling of it. My fingers caught in a few tangles, and what was once silky smooth was now greasy. His eyes seemed to reluctantly meet mine, hopeless and yet asking for answers I couldn’t provide. I realized that just as I didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t seem to either. But he wouldn’t talk to me. And then I realized-

My college roommate used to have similar behaviors. Sometimes she would get that dazed and lost look in her eyes. Like she didn’t know what she was living for. Like she had lost a piece of herself and didn’t have the strength to fight to have it back. When she opened up, she called them depressive episodes. I’d always offered to help, but she never let me into her life enough to feel comfortable asking for that assistance when she needed it.

“Okay baby.” I sat down while nodding, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. I thought he would have been fine without me. I continued to run my hand through his hair, watching as his face contorted and his brows knit together. Like he was trying to solve a difficult math problem. Not exactly in pain, simply frustrated. When his eyes opened again, they were full of tears, and those thick droplets fell down his cheeks without the aid of any blinking. “Shhh,” I cooed, immediately laying down beside him, and wrapping an arm around him. I’ve never had more strength in my life than I did in that moment, hoisting my heartbroken lover onto my chest as I lay on my back, wrapping my arms around him as sobs began to wrack his body.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cry too, but my tears were nothing compared to the wails and moans of pure agony that fell from my lover’s lips. When he began to breathe too hard, I would ease my hold on him and whisper numbers and patterns to follow until he settled. And when he cried too hard, I would squeeze him tighter and assure him he was loved, that I was there now, and that I wouldn’t leave him alone again for a really long time. I promised him hockey would return soon, and that we could even visit practices together. I tried to remind him of things he loved and emotions he felt other than what he was experiencing now. I held his head and I kissed his temples, I swear I felt his heart physically break at some point.

What was hours felt like minutes, until the pain settled to a subtle sting in both of our chests- and in our eyes. Nico still refused to speak, but I couldn’t push him. Nor would I. I continued to hold him despite the numbness in my body, feeling him shift occasionally, though he only ever moved his head from my neck to get a breath of air.

“I know you don’t want to hear this right now.. but we should try to get up, okay?” My friend in college used to tell me the hardest part was actually doing anything. I assumed that was why Nico’s hair was so gross, and why I could feel his hip bones pressed against my own, more defined than usual. I was given no response, but I knew Nico well enough to navigate him without words. “Let’s get a shower, sweetie. C’mon.” I tried to pull out from under him, only to feel Nico’s head sway from the crook of my neck and drape over my shoulder. His face was a sight to behold, but even snotty, messy, and asleep, he looked beautiful. My heart hurt for him. So much so that it made my chest hurt, and my stomach turn. “Okay.. just a short nap.”

I wasn’t getting up any time soon. I don’t know when the last time Nico slept was, and I didn’t want to chance him not sleeping again if I woke him up now. So I wrapped my arms back around him, and readjusted his head on my shoulder, supporting him physically and mentally with occasional whispers of love as he snored softly. He wasn’t okay. Far from it. But we would navigate this thing together. I’d travel to the ends of the earth to find the thing that made him happy again. And this time, I’d take him with me.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

#nico hischier #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier imagines

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 VIII

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Do you really need that book?

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.

TW // Curse, still kidnapped.

The home, or bunker of sorts, was dusty. Abandoned by previous users. It had a hole on the top of it with a dull light shining through the vines, and loose dirt falling into the base.

That shine of light was warm compared to the coldness of the underground. It felt nice to just stand there, basking in whatever light shined through, moon or sun.

Sometimes, I wished that it would blind me. Blind me of the horrors that turned the fake truth of my dreams into the reality I’ve seen before my eyes.

It hurts, every time to wake up with a beating heart full of fear, and sudden loneliness. It hurt, when the knight took his place. Trying to comfort my nightmares with the warmth of his body, and his soft coos whispering in my ear when he was the one who caused it.

I really didn’t know what to think of the knight who called himself “Solor.” I wanted to hate him for leaving me trapped in this abandoned bunker. I wanted to hate him for killing Hydra, but it was hard to do so, for long anyways.

He always lived up to his word, and duty of being a knight. He was patient, never lashing out when I wanted him to- expecting him to. His tone would drop a little in a warning, but never more than an yell. He wasn’t pushy unless he had to be. It was frustrating.

I wanted him to break. I wanted to crack that facade of duty. I wanted to see what he’d look like when he was distraught; just like I was.

I’d deny some of his food that I still don’t know if he cooks, or steals it from. Sometimes even throwing it into a wall if I was emotionally unstable at that moment, really expecting him to rush at me for that, be he never did. He’ll just sigh, and get me another plate.

If I’d refuse to go somewhere with him he’d “encourage” me to get out of the bunker, and have some sunlight with him by my side, but I’d just lay there in the makeshift bed of cloths that felt rich on my skin. Hoping that he would just leave me alone. Instead, he’ll just pick me up in his arms, take me out there, and take a stroll with me in his arms around the bunker. That I did take advantage to form a possible escape.

“I was wondering where you went, my lady.” Solor spoke, his eyes observing my form beneath the light that shone through the vines.

I opened my eyes a little, giving him a side eye before a huff escaped my lips. I knew that was a lie, he always knows where I was. It’s not like I could go far anyways without him a step behind.

He hummed before he spoke again. “I have brought you something, my lady.” His gauntlets extending out a rectangle shape.

Looking at this shape more. It was an old fantasy book. Its cover leather, and papers are stained. Just how old was this? Did he steal it?

“It appeared that I needed to get you something since that phone of yours is…unavailable.” Solor said, I gave him an deadpanned stare.

That’s because you threw it half across the world the first time I’d tried using it. I could hear it shatter to pieces somewhere.

“However-” He started, pulling the book back up to him. Pure white eyes staring down at me. “I would like something in return for this.”

What? I don’t have anything to give in return? He never asked for anything in turn before. He gave me the necessities freely, but never-

“Don’t think too hard about it, my lady. It will be just a simple request.” He told me, a grinning tone in his voice. “A kiss if you will.”

A…kiss? I thought, looking up at him skeptically.

Do I really need the book? I’ve kept myself occupied with other types of books I have found wandering this bunker, but this one would be a better read.

“…Fine.” I sighed, gesturing him down to my level.

His eyes widened a little before he obeyed. Dropping down to the concrete ground on one knee. His armor cracking the floor.

My heart beated in my chest, unsure now as the Knight who kidnapped me stood kneeling before me. Pure, white eyes looking at me with such curiosity, and dedication. It was weirdly odd.

What if I hand a knife to his throat? What would happen then? Would he accept that death, or would he yank it out of my hands?

Carefully placing my hands on the sides of his head. His skin was surprisingly smooth while being scared. His cheek carrying a scar going inward to his nose. Another scar up between his white eyebrows. His jawline, strong, and chiseled.

He was undeniably attractive, probably would have made it to be a “the hottest guy” if he wasn’t a Gray Knight.

“If you prefer to stare. I wouldn’t mind that either.” Solor suddenly spoke, his head nuzzling into the palm of my hand with a grin.

A bit embarrassed to be so obvious on staring at him, a burn erupted on my cheeks. My eyes narrowing at him.

Giving him a quick kiss on his forehead, he looked surprised as I quickly took my leave. Cheeks on fire now.

Damn that book! Damn that Knight! Damn this bunker! Damn my-!

His gauntlet lightly took hold of my wrist, and pulled me back into him. His face suddenly back into my view as I desperately tried not to face him again. My heart beating in my own ears.

“That wasn’t a proper kiss, my lady.” He grinned. His breath nearly tickling my neck.

“Y-You never said anything about it being a proper one!” I quickly defended myself.

“I didn’t? Perhaps I should have clarified a little better?” He hummed, his other gauntlet coming up behind my head.

“Yes! You-”

A muffled noise came out of my mouth, his lips on mine that were surprisingly gentle, and soft while his tongue slipped inside my mouth, taking the advantage of my surprise.

His strong, woody, vanilla scent wrapped around me like some sort of drug. I was almost confused about what was happening right now.

“There’s that proper kiss.” Solor stated, leaning back from me. His eyes half lidded as he looked at my shocked form, another grin growing on his lips.

I was left breathless within his hold, for him to see. Oh, this bastard knew what he was doing. He knew what he was doing from the damned start.

Know what? He can f*ck that book! I don’t need it! Nor do I want it!

ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 IX

ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 VII

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥: “𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗” 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖘𝖙

#warhammer 40k #space marine #space marine husbandry sentience #fanfic #x reader #yandere space marine #fanfiction #yandere #inspired #oc: solor #gray knight #polygamy #polyandry #polygynandry #old post #older post #astartes x reader #space marine x reader #tw: yandere #adeptus astartes

[strscrossed]

...and finally

this is late i know but i finally got the energy to write it. happy late valentine's day!

When you’re ready, text me. I’ll always call…

Those were Eren’s final words to her several weeks ago when he’d come to the rehab center. She told him that she needed to do some healing and time to get back on her feet before she could see him again.

It had been several weeks since and a week since she’d returned home. Just as he’d promised as his lips brushed across her knuckles, he didn’t call or text.

And she didn’t know how.

She looked at the clock.

11:55 PM, February 9th.

Her hands shook as she gathered enough strength to type something out. She almost chickened out a few times out of shame and guilt.

Ultimately, she couldn’t run from this.

Hey…

Her heart clamored in her chest as she waited. Seconds ticked by on her bedside digital clock.

Maybe he was asleep.

Two seconds went by before her phone started buzzing.

11:57:27

“Eren?” she answered. She flinched at the sound of her voice. She sounded so small, so vulnerable.

“Hey,” he whispered on the other. He sounded so gentle but she could hear the gentleness. Everything about him in this life has become softer, gentler. Especially when it came to her.

“You called…”

A small chuckle, “I said I would, Mik. I’m always waiting for you.”

She swallowed the sob that threatened to escape. Her vision became blurry.

But she still smiled.

“I just wanted to talk to you again,” she confessed. “I want to see you again.”

She repeated the words she’d whispered to his grave countless times.

I want to see you again…

I want to see you again…

My most beloved.

My dear.

“Check outside your window…”

She blinked and her brows furrowed in confusion. Still, she slid out of bed and pulled back the curtains to see Eren, standing in his signature green hoodie. It took all of two seconds for her to realize that he’d been standing out there, just waiting for her to call.

“You–” she started and she saw him smile up at her.

“I was going to throw pebbles at your window but you saved me the time. And possibly from getting shot by Kenny.”

She hung up the phone and opened the window. This wasn’t the first time he’d climbed through her window like this. Sometimes she just had a bad nightmare, sometimes she just didn’t want to be alone.

Without fail, he’d show up and cuddle her. He’d still be there when she woke up and went right back to being cold to him.

It wasn’t the first time he climbed through her window but it was the first time she was conscious of her heart pounding against her ribs.

She stepped back a little as he squeezed his way through the small opening.

And then their eyes met.

She couldn’t help the tears that gathered in her eyes. She had to force herself to hold back the choking sobs in her throat.

“Hey Mik,” he whispered.

She responded by flinging herself right into his welcoming arms — and finally, she was home.

She couldn’t help the sobs that came out of her mouth. She felt his face nuzzle into the top of her head as he clung tightly to her.

She held onto him like a lifeline because that’s what he’d been to her all this time. He was her anchor, her rock, her everything.

Seconds turned into minutes, but they didn’t let each other go. No words were spoken but the embrace seemed to convey everything.

She’d waited two lifetimes to be held this way by him. She had it now.

“Hey,” he pulled away and there was something so ethereal about the way he looked standing against the moonlight. “Happy Birthday.”

“You remembered.”

She pulled him towards the bed. He knew what she wanted and soon, she was tucked under his chin. Yes, this was what she always wanted.

“I know I said I’d wait for you to reach out. But I couldn’t stay away anymore. It was just driving me crazy,” he confessed, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

She nuzzled closer to him, “I wanted to call. It’s just after everything…” She trailed off.

Guilt took over again as she remembered all the days and nights that he stood by and took care of her. He’d seen her at her very worst. He’d patiently cleaned vomit out of her hair and tucked her into bed despite her flailing.

As if he could read her thoughts, he cupped her chin and tilted her head towards him. She’d looked at him plenty of times but it was the first time in so long she felt her cheeks heat up.

“I understand, Mik. And I was trying to be good for you. Truth is, I might never be. And I’ve always known that but I wanted to — I still want to be good enough for you and I don’t care how many lifetimes it takes.”

Eren being romantic was going to take some getting used to.

“Let me decide what I deserve,” she said. “And let me enjoy this.”

He closed the tiny gap between them. This wasn’t their first kiss — but the fireworks went off in Mikasa’s brain all the same.

It wasn’t wild, there was no desperation. It was soft, sweet. Mikasa can’t remember the last time someone kissed her like that. Their lips moved slowly, melting together as he gently rubbed circles on her waist.

She was warm.

When he finally pulled apart, he stared. He said nothing but his eyes said it all. For once, she didn’t shy away from it.

There was something about silence and the moonlight. It brought out everything and Eren laid himself bare to her.

In this life, he always had. She just didn’t know how to do the same.

They could talk about it all later. They would have to.

Not now.

“I’m taking you out tonight,” he declared. “And on Valentine’s Day. I have everything planned.”

Again, the temperature in her cheeks rose.

“Eren you don’t have to—” but he shut her up.

“I’ve been waiting two lifetimes to court you properly and now I get to. Let me have this. Let me spoil my girl.”

“Oh, I’m your girl now?” she teased and he grinned, rolling them over so that he laid on top of her. He was so close.

“Always. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

Despite the proximity and how she felt her whole body flush, she agreed.

“Mine.”

He responded by kissing down her face. His soft kisses were better than his hungry ones. She felt loved. After so long, she allowed herself to feel and embrace it.

“Stay with me,” she said as he placed a gentle kiss against her pulse. She felt him smile.

“Always.”

#high school reincarnation au #ficlet #eremika

[zoeyslament]

Even Poets Get Sleepy Sometimes

A Nischa oneshot in which Noel stays up late writing a poem, and Mischa finally gets him to sleep.

Your voice,

Though I hear it every day,

Never fails to bring a smile to my face.

Your hands,

Though I hold them every waking moment,

Caress mine like no other.

Your…

Noel slammed his fist against the table, crumpled the yellowing paper, and tossed it into the waste basket. Absolute garbage, what he’d just written. He clicked his ballpoint pen a few times and then threw it down against the hard mahogany of his desk, head falling backwards.

“Try writing poetry they said,” he grumbled, “It’ll be fun, they said!” His eyes went wide as he stared up at the ceiling. “Gets the anger out, they said!”

Noel stood up, went to his bed, and wrapped himself in a fluffy red throw blanket. “I promised myself I’d have this done tonight.” He sucked in a breath, ignoring any thoughts of giving up and going to sleep. The old fashioned clock above his bed read 9:07. It was a school night, but that didn’t really matter. With his luck, he’d sleep in and miss the morning bell anyway. He was about to get started on the poem once more when he felt a buzzing sensation in his pocket.

He whipped out his phone to reveal a text message from Mischa.

M: You left your hoodie at my place

He sighed, and typed out a reply.

N: Ik, I’ll get it tmrw

M: I will bring it over

N: Mischa its like nine at night!!

M: So?

N: Ur not a good driver let alone at night

M: YOLO

Noel didn’t know what was stupider: the fact that Mischa was coming over to drop off a stupid hoodie, or the fact that he’d unironically used YOLO. His boyfriend really was not the sharpest tool in the shed. Noel rolled his eyes, smirking.

“Knowing him, he’ll show up and want to stay.” Noel chuckled. “He can sleep while I finish this up.”

He started writing once more:

With your touch, my worries fade

With your song, my mind’s at ease

With your…

What could he possibly put down next? He frowned at the page. “Come on, Noel, think!”

He thought alright. He sat there and thought for a good twenty minutes. Most of the thoughts he had were less about poetry and more about how hungry he was (mom had gotten McDonald’s for dinner and Noel would rather sit in a tub of monkey piss than eat a McNugget) or about all the homework that would enevitably be due before he even finished his first stanza.

In that time, Mischa had thrown on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt (and was very tempted to put on Noel’s hoodie, as well, but resisted for the sake of his gangsta persona, yo) and taken to his beat up Civic for a late-night spin. Noel’s place was only a few minutes away, so he arrived in about twenty after a slight detour to the local 7-11 for a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.

Mischa had been to his boyfriend’s place enough times to know the drill—front door was always locked after 7, but Noel locked the back door before he went to sleep, and clearly the poet was still awake. So Mischa, hoodie and half-eaten bag of Cheetos in hand, hopped the fence to the Grubers’ backyard (there was a gate but it was too dark to see the latch, and frankly Mischa enjoyed jumping fences) where he was presented with the back patio in all its glory.

It was a few measly slabs of cement and a rocking chair.

He knocked on the back door once, twice, three times, before twisting the knob. Unlocked, just like always. He politely wiped his feet on the mat, took off his shoes, and tiptoed through the living room, kitchen, down the hall, and eventually into Noel’s room.

It was rather spacious—Noel had the master bedroom since his mother wasn’t home enough to make use of it. The walls were a sort of green-grey, with deep red velvet curtains hung over the single, dew-glazed window. Noel’s antique vanity, which doubled as a desk, was sat below said window. On it was a pile of paper, a framed picture of the choir, a picure of Noel and his mom, and several lit scented candles. In fact, there were candles littered everywhere. Noel was really into mood lighting, apparently.

Noel, as of then, was hard at work and didn’t even see Mischa come in. So, naturally, Mischa swooped in and enveloped him in a big bear hug, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. Noel jumped, but quickly melted into it.

“Remind me never to text you again?” Noel hissed at him, mood suddenly back to snarky and broody. “Using YOLO is henceforth forbidden.”

“So is ‘henceforth’. This is not Shakespeare-land, yo.” Mischa countered. He pulled Noel into a gentle kiss by the chin, their lips pressing together lightly as Mischa’s hand set upon Noel’s shoulder.

“Henceforth is an actual word, unlike YOLO.” Noel smirked as he pulled away. “Now where’s the hoodie you oh so desperately needed to bring me?”

Mischa handed it to him. “Sorry, it probably smells like me now.”

Noel pressed it to his nose and made a show of taking a big whiff. “Mhm~”

Mischa laughed. The two of them talked for almost an hour, just like they always managed to do. However after a while it became clear that something was off.

“Poet, you seem tired.” Mischa pointed out in a town of fake nonchalence. Internally, he was panicking. Was something up?

“I’ve been up for a while, yeah.” He held out the paper he was scribbling on. “Can’t get this how I want it.”

“Let me see.” Mischa insisted. He scribbled another word in big letters before proudly showing Noel.

“Mischa, this just says ‘spicy noodles’ in big letters.” Noel did not seem impressed.

Mischa shrugged. “I am hungry.”

“You just ate an entire bag of Cheetos.”

“And?”

“Mischa, you have the appetite of a black hole.”

Noel got back to work, stifling a yawn as his candles developed gutters deep enough to drown a rat. Mischa watched idly as his boyfriend tossed away paper after paper after paper.

“Want more help, Noel?” He teased, hovering over the shorter’s shoulder. Noel slapped him away as if he were swatting at a pesky fly.

“You are less than help. Negative help.” Noel hissed, “If you’re so hungry, go make something to eat. There’s a jar of peanut butter, slap together a sandwich or something.”

“I’d rather just watch you, beautiful.” He admitted, watching Noel’s face flush through the vanity mirror.

“Shut up…”

“Don’t think I will. But, Noel? It’s getting late. You should be in bed, yo. Sleeping.” He pointed at the bed for emphasis, or just in case Noel didn’t know what a bed was.

Noel sighed sleepily. “I know, I know.”

“Maybe sleep will make your brain juice run better.” Mischa suggested, poetic as ever. It was clear he was not taking no for an answer. He scooped Noel up into his arms, leaving Noel a flustered gay mess, and placed him on the bed, tucking his body around Noel’s like a mother cat would around her kitten.

“Mischaaaaaaa~” Noel whined. “I can stay up!” But he clearly didn’t mean it. His eyelids were already growing heavy with sleep. Mischa moved slightly so he was holding Noel closer, feeling his poet’s soft breath on his collarbone as Noel tucked his pretty little face into the crook of Mischa’s neck.

Mischa stroked Noel’s silky dark hair. “Sweet dreams, poet. I know you will find the right words. You always do.”

#rtc #ride the cyclone #nischa #passionfruit #frenchrap #noel x mischa #noel gruber rtc #noel gruber #mischa bachinski #mischa ride the cyclone #gay #oneshots #my writing

[ghostiiess]

[NSB HEADCANONS] - how i think jp would help you with your mental health

pov: title says it all!

warnings: mental health, stressed and anxious days, some swears here and there

type: comfort

member: justin phan

REBLOGS AND LIKES ARE VERY APPRECIATED! :)

Justin would be such a great comfort buddy

Maybe he doesn’t look like that guy in the nsb videos since he’s always playful and stuff like this, but trust me.

he is the definition of the words ‘comfort’ and ‘calm’

Let’s start this hc, shall we?

« hi baby! I’m back home! » he said

He couldn’t find you :/

So he started searching for you

« Baby? Are you home? »

He started panicking a little bit ngl

(Rest of the hc under the cut!)

Your car was in the entrance and your clothes were at the same place as yesterday

And you didn’t say you had plans…

« Babyyy? Are you there? Are you playing hide and seek or something? »

Usually, it’s at this moment where you laugh and stop playing

But not this time apparently

He went to the room you both shared and saw you, laying there on the bed, your back facing him

« oh shit, is she sleeping? Hope i didn’t wake her up… »

He took the blanket close to you and put it on you, smiling that his baby was finally resting (go rest yourself babe)

He was going to kiss you on your forehead, but instead saw tears rolling down on your face

And that’s when he realized that you were, indeed, not sleeping, but crying-

« Baby… are you okay? Why are you crying? »

« Did something happened? »

His heart broke

It broke even more when you pushed him away

« No.. i don’t want to leave you alone! What’s up? Why are you crying, my love? »

He slowly caressed your hair and your cheek, seeing you weren’t answering him

« Baby… why are you like that? What happened when i was gone? »

He would comfort as much as he can

« Pretty girl, what’s up with you…? Who broke my baby’s heart? »

His face is :(

He would listen to you without judging you

He wouldn’t even put pressure on you for you to talk

He would wait until you are ready to do it

« take your time, okay? Talk when you’re ready »

He would hug you, and play with your hair

And cuddle you if that’s something you like

« Breathe in… breathe out.. yeah just like that, you’re doing great »

« Just relax and do breathing exercises, okay? »

He would peck your forehead or cheeks to calm you down

« It’s okay, baby.. i know it’s not always easy »

He would be there all the way in

« Just forget that when things get hard, I’m here to help and listen to you, okay? »

You could talk for 4h straight and he’d stay here with you

« Taking care of ourselves is not always an easy task, baby… if you can’t do it alone because it’s too hard or too complicated, just let me know and we’ll figure things out okay? »

« You are doing great, my love. »

« With or without mental health problems or issues, i still, and always will, love you just the way you are »

« Thank you for trusting me with that »

« you are a blessing in many people’s life and this is a fact you can’t deny. »

« ‘bet?’ Wdym bet?? Hold on, do you want me to say every person you helped and comforted since you’re on this fucking earth?! »

He would be so worried for real, he always want to see you smile :(

He hate to see tears rolling down on your cheeks

Justin know bad days can happen, but everything he looks at you and see you sad, he feel bad

He want your happiness.

« i love you so much. I’m here for you anything you wants and need. »

« Never think that you have to be strong 24/7 just for me. You don’t have to wear a mask for me. It’s okay to be weak sometimes.  I’m weak too sometimes »

« Everything will be okay, just concentrate on my voice okay? »

Idk how to end this hc, bc if it wasn’t for the readers (don’t want to make it too long), I’d continue

Justin has such a good heart like-

Please, do not hide things from him

He only want your happiness

He want to see you smile, he want to hear you laugh, he want to make you realize how important you are to him

Please, do not reject him :(

Taglist! (Open! Send an ask if you’d like me to add you!) @nsb-rkive @kentisbaby @firebenderwolf @hyuneee0

Bold can’t be tagged.

#ghostiiess #nsb #northstarboys #north star boys #headcanon #headcanons #nsbheadcanons #justinphan #justin phan #jp #nsb headcanons #nsbcontent #nsb x reader #northstarsboysheadcanons #northstarboys x reader #comfort headcanons #comforting #comfort #mental health hc #reblogs really help

[mybigfatheartpoems]

heartbreak in 11 parts (unsent texts.)

1. I’d like to pretend that I’m fine, that I’m moving on and doing okay, but I’m not okay. I still cry about you. I think about you every day. Every song reminds me of you. I miss your arms around me and your hands and your mouth. I miss your eyes. I miss hearing you say you’re obsessed with me. It’s insane and sad and nonsensical. You’re a ghost in my head. I can’t get rid of you.

2. The truth is, I’d still give you my heart if you asked for it. If you told me tomorrow that you wanted me back, I’d run to you without question. I’d kiss you until we forgot we were ever apart. And somewhere in my mind, I’d think — this is a huge risk. I’d ask myself, are you sure? What if he hurts you again? What if you ruin each other? What if you’re still not enough for him? Do you really want to take that chance? And the answer would be yes. Obviously it wouldn’t be easy, it would take work and patience and conflict and compromise, but you’d be worth it. If there’s a chance it could work, I’d still want to try. You made my heart so happy in the short time we were together that any more time with you would be precious in and of itself, regardless of the outcome. Knowing you is a gift. Loving you would be effortless. And I want to, god I want to.

I understand your hesitation. I know your concerns and they’re valid and important. I know why you don’t think we have a chance. I just can’t help wondering, is this truly how it’s supposed to be if we both hate it so much? If it feels so wrong? Everything in me is telling me to fight for this, to convince you to live in the moment with me, but logically I know it would be pointless. Idk. Something about us is special. The way we fit, our common interests, our similarities, the timing, the chemistry, our locations — it felt like fate. I’ve been grieving this loss for weeks and I’m no closer to acceptance.

I’m grateful to have you in my life in whatever way I can, full stop. You’re amazing and I don’t want to lose you, and I’d be honored to be your friend. I’m just not sure I’ll find this kind of connection with someone else. Maybe someday, years from now, but I just want you. It’s pathetic and selfish and scary but it’s how I feel. I don’t want to feel this way, I wish I could turn it off, wish I could break this magnetic pull you have on me, but I can’t. Why is it so hard?

I know this is a lot and it’s unfair, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to overwhelm you just because I am overwhelmed with everything I’m still feeling. You owe me nothing. I just want you so badly and everything hurts.

3. One of the hardest parts of this is not inviting you over when I’m home with nothing to do. I’ve never craved someone like this.

4. You said it was me, that I was your type. I can still be your type. I still wanna be yours.

5. Maybe this is all just temporary infatuation. Maybe I’m being childish, thinking these feelings won’t one day disappear, like they all do. Maybe it’s naïve, imagining a future with you where there isn’t one. I have too much hope. I want more than I can have.

6. I’m trying to tell myself that everything happens for a reason, that maybe I’m better off without you, that I’ll feel better once more time passes, but it all sounds like bullshit. Not talking to you, trying not to think about you, it feels wrong. I hate this. I can’t stand it.

7. Sometimes it hurts so bad I don’t want to get out of bed. I do, because I have to, but it’s hard. There’s a pit in my stomach and I’m nauseous about it all day. Some days I’m fine, I’m distracted, I can forget for a while. But when I’m alone with my thoughts, it just hurts.

8. I’m realizing the space that you need doesn’t help me at all, but I know this isn’t just about me. I want you to be okay, and if we want any chance at developing a friendship, I know I’ve got to give you that space. I just didn’t expect it to be this hard.

9. Everything reminds me of you. But I know I can’t have you, so I’m going to try to move on. I’m going to try and eventually I will succeed. Part of me hopes you are filled with regret when I do. Part of me hopes we can remain friends when I do. Part of me hopes you come back to me some day. Part of me never wants to see you again.

10. I still think about you. I still miss you. The thought of us still makes me sad. But it doesn’t tear me apart the same way anymore. It’s just a dull ache. But it’s there and idk when it’ll go away.

11. It breaks my heart to let you go. But I’m letting you go.

#unsent texts #poem #spilled ink #poetry #free verse #text poetry #text poem #heartbreak #moving on #j

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Five years ago, after a near-fatal construction accident, my doctor came to my hospital bed with the results of an ECG the night nurses forced on me because every single time they’d ask me how I’m feeling, I’d say “I’m fine” and then throw a dazed mini-tantrum until they’d all leave me to just- well, I did and didn’t know I was dying. However I was feeling, I wanted to feel it alone. Anyway, my doctor told me that if I did not get a blood transfusion within the next 2 hours, I’d die. He called me reckless for not being honest with the nurses. For the next hour they scoured every local hospital for my type (the rarest) and I was painfully alone in my hospital room. Dying really brought some contradicting feelings. I was ready to die, just kind of accepted it. I was panicked but also very welcoming about the prospect of death. I wanted my partner there so desperately that if my body had any energy I would have cried from how scared and alone I felt. I knew if I called she’d make the trip to the city where I was hospitalised. But I also refused to call her and keep her (honestly and accurately) updated on my wellbeing. I didn’t want her to watch me die (which I was so sure I would do because I was in and out of consciousness for three days, could actually hear my heart failing in my ears, and see the the gradual darkening of the peripherals of my vision). I knew she’d hurt, and I knew she’d beg me to fight, and I literally had neither energy nor desire to fight what I felt was a lost battle. I got my blood transfusion in the end and of course survived. I still waited a full day before I casually Whatsapped (yes, text, not even a call. I swear I’m a good guy) my partner telling her that I narrowly evaded death but she’s got nothing to worry about because I was watching Good Morning Britain while drinking OJ. She made that fucking trip, which I wanted and didn’t want her to make, and she stayed for the next four days until I was discharged.

I’m sharing this because while chapters 3 and 4 of Sea Glass Gardens could not go into much details of what it is like to be dying and know you’re dying in front of a loved one, and the internal conflict of wanting and not wanting to be alone as it happens (because this is all Yuuta’s POV), you did an excellent job of capturing what it would all look and sound like to a third party looking in. Even down to Tsumiki refusing to let go of Megumi’s hand. The nurses hand to change the location of my cannulas to my foot and my scalp because my hands were so bruised from them having been held by my partner for hours. Much like Megumi I also have an issue with emotional expressions and declarations. In chapter 8 when Tsumiki asks him how he is feeling and he redirects to asking her if she got home okay, I was reminded of when I woke up to find my partner, replying to her “How are you feeling” with “Why are you here? Did you request time off school?”.

Idk, I guess this is my longwinded way of saying “excellent execution of capturing what it feels like to be dying in front of a loved one, from all the different perspectives”.

So, this has been buried in my ask box for a while, which is unfortunate, because it's a very meaningful message I'm very grateful to have received. It sounds like you went through a lot with this, and I did want to thank you very genuinely for sharing this. I feel like with art we're just banging pots and pans in the wilderness seeing if we get some kind of faint clanging back sometimes.

It's really hard to share these kinds of vulnerable details like this, and I'm grateful you shared this with me. I wish you the best.

#sea glass gardens

[i-am-tiny-sun]

Here’s another old work!

Categories: 💫 (old work!); 🔪 (dark content!); 🚞 (smut, thirst train!); 🚺 (fem reader!); 🎐(multi character!)

Tw: femdom (blasphemy! oh no!) kidnapping kink/roleplay, manhandling, bondage, pegging (you’re going to jail!), light degradation, bite kink, chasing, cumming untouched, hair pulling, dacryphilia, and fingering

Disclaimer: This was written with the intent of having consenting parties! If you are a minor, ageless/blank blog, or simply uncomfortable with this content, this isn’t for you! You know how to get off the Thirst Train.

Kidnapping Kink

• Seishu definitely has this kink, and he loves to be chased. The adrenaline running through his veins when you give him a 5 second head start to run like a bat outta hell, the thrill of knowing what happens when you catch him, it’s all gonna rile sweet bby Inui up. He knows you’ll catch him soon, he knows fully well that he’ll be found, but can he help it?

Absolutely not, and he thinks hiding under the bed is a good idea? I really hope he doesn’t think this in the event of an actual attempt. ANYWAY he makes the cutest little squeaking noise when you eventually find him and tie him up, and he loves when you tease and degrade him for not being able to escape in time.

How could he not manage to escape? Doesn’t he know that he has to run? At least struggle a little bit. Or is he too much of a helpless, cute little bunny to do that? No, struggling would be futile for a helpless bunny to do. There’s a safe word of course, but he won’t use it because he loves when you toss him around a bit and tear his clothes off.

Something about y’all being feral drives him crazy 🫢 Will almost cum when you bite his inner thighs alone, but he tries to hold it in when he feels your hand lightly squeeze his pretty neck and your other fingers entering his mouth.

He’s not gonna think twice about sucking on them, and best believe he’s gonna become a mess when y’all finally fill his tight little hole with them 🥺 will cum hard as a result, but he will ask for more, so we give him more by replacing our fingers with a vibrator. Loves the stretch that comes with it and he will cry if you use the thicker ones.

• Contrary to belief that the Haitanis are dominant, they’re actually not, especially in this case. However, Ran’s the one of the two who has a kidnapping kink. And he doesn’t even try to hide it either, is not scared to admit it at all to anyone who asks him, cause he knows he’s getting fucked good. Rindou sometimes calls him a mongrel for it, knowing damn well he’s in one of these categories 🤦🏻‍♀️ shut tf up Rin-

ANYWAY this was totally something Ran thought up while he and Sanzu were kidnapping some guy who owed Kakucho money? He sorta brought it up as a “hey what if we tried this out” type of conversation, but he doesn’t expect you to actually follow through with it THEE next day while he’s leaving work.

He went to greet you on his way to the car but that’s what got him tied up in the backseat with tape covering his mouth. Instead of being upset, he’s excited and painfully hard in his pants. When y’all get home, he very half heartedly struggles but you can tell he’s smiling under the tape.

He likes when you slowly remove all of his clothes and toss him onto your shared bed, he loves when you tease his tight hole before filling it with his favorite strap. Loves when you pull his braids back while you fuck him to the point of tears (dO NOT RIP HIS HAIR OUT MY GD-)

• Like wee Inui up there, Kakucho loves being chased. He made it a game, wherever you catch him is where he gets fucked. Don’t underestimate him, he is apart of Bonten after all, so I’d assume that he’d need to be essentially a ninja (no, they blended in with the crowd, so don’t ask me).

Bby Kaku makes it as far as the garden before you catch him 👀 it’s a vast and very large garden, so if anyone hears him, they won’t be able to pinpoint exactly where it’s coming from. It doesn’t help that the Haitanis live nearby and they know what their colleague sounds like.

Poor, sweet Kakucho. Couldn’t even run away from somebody who could easily overpower him and corrupt him (huehuehue). How weak is he? He’s so pretty when he struggles, really he is! His shirt rides up and exposes his cute little nipples, hard and sensitive.

Will squeak if you very lightly bite one or start sucking on it. That’s enough to make him stop struggling and fall limp. He’s already moaning from that alone, imagine when y’all remove his sweatpants and start to work his hole with your tongue.

He loves to have his thighs squeezed while you tease him, but he never expects to feel a stretch from the strap, no matter how many times y’all have done it 🫢

Strong s/o

• Chifuyu loves to be manhandled and overpowered by you, and he’ll sometimes instigate a play fight to make that happen. He’s like a little cat that hunts you around the house before latching onto your ankles, he’s a mischievous little sir. Little Fuyu has sensitive thighs though, so squeezing them even a little bit is enough to subdue him.

He loves it, trust me, he said so- anyway he quickly goes quiet in an attempt to silence his cute little cry so he doesn’t seem affected by it. But we all know the truth 👀 bby Chifuyu’s a sensitive thigh having little kitten who squeals when you take hold of them. His cute dick jumps when you pin him down and bite his neck because he knows what comes with it- y’all he’s adorable.

Chifuyu’s definitely prone to cumming untouched if you only tease him, especially his thighs. He’ll squirm a bit but he’s not able to resist cause his thigh sensitivity makes him weak 🥺 his pretty eyes are full of tears because you just won’t touch him where he needs you, and his poor reddening cock aches from the lack of direct attention. Finally cums with a final bite to his inner thigh, will make a high pitched cry when he does it.

• Both of the Kawatas are on this list, but bby Souya is the type that wants to be overpowered for a change. He’s used to being strong with his brother, so he enjoys when you pin him down and make it hard for him to struggle 😭 poor baby just wants to be dominated, he’s a major sub.

Souya loves it when you bite him too, so very gently bite his nipple and he’ll moan like he’s about to cry. He might as well be too since he’s so sensitive when he’s touched. Degrade him a little bit too, he’s fine with it as long as you don’t go too far.

Is little Souya that sensitive? So sensitive that he whines like a wee bitch in heat? If that’s the case, then that’s the only sound you wanna hear right now. This little sweetheart is in tears in a good way when you start sucking his leaking dick the first time, but he’s overstimulated to the point of meaningless babbling if you keep sucking after he came.

It’s entirely possible to turn him dumb from this alone, but he’s gonna scream when you slide your strap inside and bite his neck while you fuck him. Will sob if you add stimulation to his puffy and sensitive little nipples, and the face he makes is to die for 🥺 Souya’s adorable and I’ll die on this hill-

• This is the perfect time to say that Takemichi likes a strong s/o. It hits different when you dominate him cause he knows you’re not out to kill him. Like Chifuyu, he sometimes instigates a play fight just because he enjoys it when you tussle with him a little bit and throw him around (on a SOFT SURFACE because we’re not trying to kill him-).

Takemichi’s touch starved as all hell and Satan’s engorged sack, so he doesn’t really know what to do with himself when you take him down. He’s almost got permanent blue balls since he knows his hand won’t be enough 🫢 poor boy, so desperate for any form of physical affection that he’ll take anything!

He’s completely down for having his hole stretched and filled out by that thick strap you have in a nice box under the bed. He’s totally fine with you pulling his hair either while you fuck him from behind or when you make him ride the strap, will call himself your pretty little slut if you ask him to.

Will actually be disappointed if you don’t cause he wants you to claim him 🥺 he’ll cum especially hard if you only squeeze them a little bit, and tears streak his face. Takemichi’s not called a crybaby for nothing, is he?

BOTH

• Rindou, the one who calls his brother a mongrel for having a kidnapping kink, is someone who likes having a stronger than him s/o that’s capable of kidnapping him. He won’t ask you to try it out since he’s adamant that he doesn’t have the same kink, but we know better.

This cutie doesn’t expect it when you suddenly snatch him from the street and tie him up. Initially freaks out when he’s shoved into the car, but calms down once he realizes it’s you and not some guy wanting revenge on Bonten for ruining his life. Rinnie thinks you don’t notice the front of his pants becoming tighter 👀 mf you can’t lie? We caught you??

He is a whole gremlin, that much is true after we saw his “we don’t talk about Bruno” head ass in that one panel, but he’s a gremlin who loves to get fucked hard. He struggles a bit on the way into the house, but he doesn’t do very well cause he secretly enjoys this a lot… what’s this?

Rindou, we thought you didn’t like the idea of being abducted? Why are you hard? Sounds a bit like you’re a liar. Call him out on it while you choke him and plus his hole with a vibrator. Poor Rindou, too shy to admit that he loves being dominated! Too proud to admit that he’s a bitch in heat when he’s snatched randomly by his s/o, who’s stronger than him!

Well, at least he won’t be talking now since he’s too busy sobbing and babbling from the overwhelming pleasure. His dick is red and sore from the amount of cum that shot out of him, but he doesn’t stop until he’s passed out.

• Nahoya’s not shy about admitting what he likes, and he likes a s/o that can subdue him enough to kidnap him and take him down. Like Kakucho and Inui, he enjoys being chased, but he actually likes to be tackled? I’m pretty sure he has a pain kink or something like Hanma, who has an impact play kink and knife kink.

His kink isn’t as extreme as Shuji’s but he won’t complain if he ends up with a scraped knee or something when you eventually catch him. Intentionally runs slower for you to catch him, really does not try much at all to get away when being chased. Nahoya also agrees to be fucked where you catch him, and you just happen to tackle him in the living room.

Dragging him by the ankles to the bedroom, he’s giggling cause he’s excited. He only struggles when you tie him up, but he’s weak to having his hair pulled and choked. Bby Hoya makes the most wanton noises ever when you do those two things alone, but he’s a screamer and a creamer when you plug him up with your fingers.

Actually whines when you pull them out, only to replace them with your tongue, then he’s happy again. Cries when you slip it in deep enough to hit his prostate, then he falls asleep immediately after cumming for the 5th time.

#💫: old work! #🔪: dark content! #🚞: smut! (thirst train) #🎐: multi character! #🚺: fem reader! #i had a heart attack while remaking this y’all have no idea #my writing’s been shabby since i accidentally yeeted my old blog #pls accept this as an apology for the next bullshit i’m gonna post that’s new #sub tokrev

[stayandot8]

"Always Find Me"

A little add-on to Track Two: Airplane. As always, if you read, thank you. Let me know what you think.

Genre: Fluff

Relationship type: established boyfriend/girlfriend

Important Contents: none

WC: 1.3k

masterlist

Channie ❣️: I don’t know what time we’re coming in tonight so don’t wait up, okay? I’m sorry darling.

Well that wasn’t fair. He knows I’m susceptible to pet names. It’s my first time staying in his apartment while he’s away and it feels so empty without him and the other members. Too quiet where every little noise makes me jump. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in one of Han’s horror movies being here by myself. My phone buzzes again.

Channie ❣️: I’ll make it up to you when I get home. I have a present for you. ❤️

Me: No need to but I can’t wait to see it :) 

As much as I just wanted him here beside me, he knows I'm a sucker for gifts. Especially from him. He knows me so well so early in our relationship that it was actually a little frightening. I’d never had someone pay attention to me so well and actually care about taking notes on what I liked, didn’t like, what I cared about, what I was scared of. The thing that grabbed his attention the most was the first. He loved to spoil me with anything big or small. I didn’t care either way, just the fact that he thinks of me enough to think ‘she would like this’ was enough for me. He could bring me back dirt and I would be just as happy. 

Resigned to the knowledge that I would be sleeping alone, I put down my phone and picked up his TV remote and snuggled into his bed, falling into the safety of his smell all around me. Putting on my favorite tv show, I found myself falling asleep faster than I thought possible. 

***

The arm on my waist was nothing compared to the weight of a leg intertwined with mine. I come to, wondering why there’s so much extra heat under the covers. I’m finally able to turn towards the breath on my neck to find Chan with his eyes closed and breathing deeply, mouth slightly open. I shake my head at him and return my head to its original position on my pillow. Before I know it I’m fast asleep again, not noticing the small box on the nightstand next to him.

***

When I come back again, the weight and body heat is gone, leaving me wondering if I had imagined him coming home. But the smell of bacon rouses me to full consciousness to rub my eyes, taking in the room around me. I spot Chan’s suitcase still closed and locked in the corner of the room, confirming that he was indeed home. The thought alone got me out of bed to make my slippered feet take me to the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around me. The sight of Chan cooking breakfast makes my chest tingle, but the other members are nowhere in sight. He spots me, gives me a lazy grin, and motions for me to sit on a stool at the breakfast bar. I do as he suggests. 

“Are the other boys not awake yet? It’s quiet.” I say as I wrap my blanket tighter around me.

“They’re actually not here yet. I came back early.”

“Why? Where are they?”

“I told the team I had some business to take care of back here and I would meet them at our next stop. It was no big deal.”

I can’t take my eyes off of him in shock. My jaw hurts from dropping so fast. 

“Chan, I can live without seeing you while you work. Your work is important to you and I respect that, I really do. I don’t want to be the reason you miss out on stuff-”

He has made his way around the bar to stand in front of my stool in between my legs. He brings his finger to my lips to shush me.

“I’m not missing anything. I really did have to come back for something that wasn’t you. You just happen to be a wonderful perk just waiting for me here.” His smile feels genuine so I chose to believe him. This time. “Don’t move, I wanna give you your gift.” He shuffles out of the room before I can object. I can hear his bacon popping so I jump out of my seat and over to the stove to check on it. Not long after, I hear his footsteps making their way back into the kitchen. 

“If it's something fluffy, I’m eating with it in my lap.” I turn back and my eyes immediately go to the small black velvet box wrapped in a red bow. I felt my chest tighten and I couldn’t breathe. He wouldn’t, would he? Certainly not. We hadn’t even said that we loved each other yet. But I still couldn’t take my eyes off the box, lost for words.

“It’s not what you think. Relax.” I could hear him laughing from somewhere far away, all the blood still rushing to my head. From somewhere in my peripheral vision, I could see him coming towards me to put his hands on my shoulders and guide me back to my stool. Once he had me seated he brought the box to my hands and gestured for me to open it. 

“I had it made after our first plane ride. The place just finished and called me before I left to tell me it was ready. I remembered how you said you wished you had more rings so I hope this one fits. I hope you like it.”

I open the box to find a thin silver band peeking out at me from inside its cushioned home. On the ring itself were some Korean symbols etched in the band itself. I take it out of its bed to get a closer look and I can feel my throat tighten and the pinch behind my eyes gets stronger. 

“It says ‘Always find me’ in Korean. Just a little reminder for you when you’re feeling lost or down or whatever...” His voice trailed off at the end, the only evidence of his own nervousness. I had yet to speak. I was afraid that if I did, my voice wouldn't be strong enough to make words come out. It was hard to swallow. 

“Please say something, darling. You’re making me nervous.” At the sound of his plea, I finally find my voice, still not able to look him in the eye.

“Chan…” My voice is trembling like I knew it would. “Chris.” His face drops. I don’t use his English name unless I have something serious to say and he knows this. He envelops my face in his hands to force me to look at him. I can’t help but see him in a different light now, my entire body on fire at his touch. “This is the most meaningful gift I’ve ever gotten. From anyone. I love it, I really do.”

I couldn’t stop the tears now as I looked at his relieved face. He catches them on his thumbs and kisses my forehead for so long I thought he had gotten glued there. When he releases me, he grabs the ring from my fingers. 

“Can I put it on you?” I nod enthusiastically, finally smiling as my tears dry. “Which finger do you want it on, my dear?” I wiggle my middle finger on my left hand and he slides it on and kisses it before I bring it to my eyes for a closer look. 

“I don’t think I can express in words how much I love it, Chan. Truly, I don't think the words exist yet.” I stand up to hug him properly and tuck my face into his chest, inhaling deeply. He wraps his arms around me tightly, kissing the top of my head and resting his chin on the same spot. I close my eyes to commit the moment to memory, finding my home at long last.

*Author's Note: I actually have this ring. I got it when I watched the famous clip that this comes from. It was the moment I fell in love with SKZ and Chan specifically. It's my reminder to find Stray Kids and Stay when I'm feeling some type of way because they can always bring me back to myself when I get too lost in this world. I want to be this person to others as well. My inbox is always open.

❤️

#chan x you #chan x reader #chan skz #chan fluff #bang chan #skz bang chan #christopher bang #chan stray kids #stray kids #skz fanfic #skz x reader #skz #skz boyfriend #chan imagines

[pandoraslove]

hi my love !! i’m not sure where to write requests on here (idk how to properly use tumblr) but i was wondering if i could get an eddie imagine where the reader sings/is a singer but is super shy about their voice, and eddie hears and is like oh MY GOD ?! i’m also a sucker for a good ‘ol friends to lovers trope so if you wanna add that i will cry tears of joy.

thank you btw <3

I love this!! And same I'm still pretty new to Tumblr, but I'm getting more used to it now, still learning a few things on the way to. 

Voice of an Angel

Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: A little steamy but no smut only making out/kissing, No spoilers, just fluff over all, and not proofread. 

✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ 

Eddie knew you would be home alone today, since you’ve been counting down the days to finally get some time to yourself without your family. you loved them of course but they were a bit chaotic, your two younger siblings could never go 20 minutes without fighting and your parents never lasted more than 24 hours without arguing, so you suggested they go on a vacation. you were going to have to stay because ‘you had work’, which was completely false, you’d asked for the 3 days off. Eddie had the bright idea to sneak up on you. He got in through the small basement door and walked up to the kitchen. 

You were making yourself a sandwich and softly singing to “Running Up That Hill’, One of your all time favorite songs. you’ve never sung around people, you never like being the center of attention and kept mostly to yourself. which is a little strange seeing that you were in l- best friends with one of the most. loudest people in all of Hawkins. It wasn’t all bad though, he could be quiet and calm when he wanted to and to be honest he wasn’t very loud outside of school, only when he was having fun and stuff like that. 

The music was softly playing on the side and you were singing along. “I’d be running up that road, Be running up that hill with no problems Say, if I only could I’d make a deal with god and get him to swap our places-” You turned around only to find Eddie leaning against the entry. you let out a small yelp. 

“Sorry, princess, didn’t mean to scare you.” he chuckles and pushes himself off the wall, “you never told me you could sing.” you took a bite of your sandwich. 

“I don’t like doing it in front of others.” you tell him, shrugging. “what are you doing here?” 

“I could leave if you want.” He says pointing towards the front door. 

“No.” you say a little too quickly, “no, you can stay, unless you want to leave, you don’t have to sta- I'm rambling...” You say the last part slightly, He simply grins. 

You and Eddie have been friends since he was in the 8th grade, you in the 7th. You graduated the year after he was supposed to, but you stayed good friends. you were more of the shy type, always reading with your knees up to your chest or listening and watching the sky or simply sleeping. either in class or on Eddie or by him. Lunch was always your designated nap time. 

“You should sing more often...” Eddie says sitting next to you on your bed. 

“I only like to sing when I'm by myself,” 

“why?” 

“Because it’s a little bit of a coping mechanism, I guess, Whenever I feel vulnerable or alone, I sing, but I also do it when I’m bored.” 

“Well, princess, you have the voice of an angel.” He says, looking at you in the eyes. For a second you held the eye contact and then looked down at his lips, only to quickly look back up to his eyes. He’d caught nonetheless and smirks. He takes one of his hands and puts it against your cheek. The only reason you’ve never told him how you felt was because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. 

“You know, y/n,” He says softly, “I don’t miss those little glances you take of my lips when I'm talking or how flustered you sometimes get when I put my arm around your shoulder, The way you look at me...” Your breath hitched as his face got closer. “But you’ve never actually said it.” 

“Said what?” He looks at you with an ‘I know you know what I’m talking about’ look, “I don’t want to lose you...” you sigh. 

“I don't think that could ever happen,” He says getting on top of you, he had his legs on either side of you, both his hands on the sides of your face making you look up at him. he leaned down and kissed your cheek then your nose, the corner of you mouth, and then finally your lips. your hands grabbed onto his wrists lightly as you kissed him back. 

you pull back slightly, “so, you've known this entire time?” You asks slightly out of breath.

“kind of,” He says nudging his nose on yours making you smile a little, “I just wanted to make sure I was right before making any moves, so I asked robin.” He says grinning. 

“um excuse me what?” you say completely baffled.

“I told her I liked you and asked her if I was right about you liking me back, princess, that's all, she didn’t tell how much you gossip about me or dream about me either,” He says winking. 

“I don’t gossip or dream about you, Munson.” you tell him, narrowing your eyes at him jokingly making him laugh. 

“Whatever you say princess.” you roll your eyes. 

“So, you like me too?” You asks with the widest grin.

“Yes, I... like... you...too.”He says, kissing you in between each word. 

“Good.” You says pulling him into another kiss. Oh, How you’ve dreamt of this moment, although you’d never admit it to him, it would only boost his ego even more. you’d have to thank Robin later. 

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #robin buckly #eddie #eddie munson imagine

[rubykarelia]

SHOOTING BLANKS (personal essay, 2022)

“Can I pray for you?” my therapist, Sharon, asked.

I worried that she could see my bemused expression through the static silence. Nobody had ever asked to pray for me before. When my dog died, an acquaintance proffered a limp sentiment in my Facebook inbox, “I’ll keep you in my prayers.” But then, it was a sentence, not a question.

My relationship with God was especially long-distance—He and I spoke through some kind of interlocutor, much like the phone through which Sharon and I spoke. Never did I try to extend my voice alone. I grew up in a staunchly secular household, so religion was just a taste I'd never acquire. Eves of worship that ushered in pastel-laden holidays and round, anemic wafers that dissolved on the tongue like tabs of expired acid. My mother was raised Roman Catholic, and she told us how my grandma had bowed to the postwar nuclear wraith and beset her household accordingly. Mom was as manicured as their front lawn; the only daughter, she was the original sin, sent to etiquette school to learn how to stand poised and upright before falling dutifully on her knees. Unimpressed, she escaped each Saturday night to punk rock shows in the city before catching a late-night bus back to the suburbs, just in time to attend the next morning’s mass, a Cinderella in her Sunday best. She moved out of her family home right away, and with that, she and Him hadn't spoken since.

In the heat of Sharon’s anticipatory pause, it occurred that she intended to pray for me immediately, right then and there, over the phone. She seemed unbothered that it might break policy or cross an ethical boundary. I thought about it for a moment and decided that it didn’t have to be serious. In fact, I smiled at the prospect of gaining a new anecdote to tell to my close friends. “Guys,” I’d say to my roommates after the appointment. “Guess what my therapist did today.” Inevitably, I'd then punctuate the story with a quippy button, something like, "You always hear about people advocating to separate church and state, but is this what they mean by it—church and state of mind?" If we laughed, it would've been all worth it.

It took me a moment to return to the moment and remember who Sharon was, what she was asking, why she was so ready to turn to a higher power. At once, I felt a familiar urgency: What if it works? The drama of it working was alluring, perfumed.

I’d started talking to Sharon when I felt as if I couldn't walk anymore. The heavy feeling wasn’t new—like a tedious relative, it had long overstayed its welcome. Cycles of over-and-over and again and again, a type of dust that can be cleaned but then settles in thicker. The weight sometimes lifted—there was contentment and confidence in those smiling bouts, but they always precipitated a hangover that mourned its own arrival. The ways I tried to lift myself out of the heaviness were always unhealthy, like the odd drunken evening or something sharper. These mechanisms were beyond tragic, but their greatest fault was never working. Fruitless was trying to conquer heaviness, it seemed—in fact, in my late teens, I quit food for a summer or so to no avail. Humour fit in when only words were available. By the time I moved out of my parents’ house, there were anthologies of looseleaf stashed under my childhood bed, memoirs in which I pared myself down in strange and unnatural ways. I wrote me out, putting me somewhere. When I moved out, I left them there—I stopped writing, and the heaviness returned to my hands. I lugged it to the grocery store and the bus stop and the laundromat and back home again. I grew heavier on each commute, and whatever I collected, I was too afraid to unpack. It was a hopeless observance that was forever looking, forever avoiding being looked at. If prayer could ease the burden, why not? God, I hope this will work.

For a moment, I worried that my agnosticism would pose an issue for Sharon. Maybe, if a nonbeliever was the target of an intercessory prayer, it’d be like shooting blanks. There was something profoundly sad about this possibility, and I cursed Sharon’s blessings before she could say them aloud. An unheard prayer summoned the same brand of tragedy as a letter returned to its sender, a personal ad in the classifieds, a missed call to the wrong number. 

I’d questioned my faith before, and maybe that gave me some currency. I'd once befriended a gaggle of Christian girls in my class. They wore gilded cross-necklaces and clothes from the nice stores, and their moms were sugary-sweet, and each week they got to go to church together. I always liked the idea of getting invited. I once went with my grandma. I struggled to keep my eyes open during the scripture readings, but it was only because the building made me feel calm; in perfect symmetry, each polished pew faced a smiling apse, and the ceilings were tall and made me feel small. I began telling the girls at school that I, too, was a Christian. ‘Prove it,’ one of them once challenged me. I couldn't.

I was also concerned that Sharon's prayer might be strained by the phone's metal mesh, stretched too thin as it reached for the cell tower and up to where I assumed it needed to go. To me, electricity always seemed antithetical to the prayerful, like when a kid I babysat showed me the Bible app on his iPad. Prayer was supposed to be raw, unlit. I thought about confession, or what I’d seen of it on TV: a crown of candle's amber dusk, a cathartic rasp to an ancient man on the other side of a teak cubicle. Quickly, I fashioned Sharon as the old man, the phone as our teak wall, the static grain of wires and tin humming like a distant, off-key psalm.

I’d seen therapists in-person before, but I had trouble looking them in the eye. Though I didn’t have tales of clandestine affairs or crimes to confess, my anxieties nonetheless made my shoulders fold in on themselves like I was a guilty suspect, and the placid gaze of a therapist burned through me like the upper hand of a seasoned detective. But Sharon was across the country, and from our first session, I came prepared to talk. She had called every second Thursday for almost six months, and before each appointment, I put my chair in the far corner of my bedroom and shoved a towel under the door. I wanted to be honest and loud about it. I didn’t cry during our sessions, just spoke. This was a good thing; nobody had ever known me so well. 

When Sharon began the prayer, she opened with the same address that my grandma recited before each meal. I held my breath, closed my eyes, and braced myself. As I sank into my chair, my mind sifted through her words—some sounded foreign to me through the metallic debris, and they passed each other urgently as if they were all rushing off somewhere. She sandwiched my name between unfamiliar aphorisms and spoke in a rehearsed meter that was distractingly poetic, though I could make out her final pleas to God. She asked him to bring me good things, nice thoughts. She asked him, "Bring Ruby peace." I began to cry. "Amen."

We were out of time. We booked another appointment, then I hung up the phone and sat in the silence. I expected a revelatory sensation to follow—not something material, like the peripheral pageant of a halo atop my head. No, I scavenged in the stillness for light and lightness, for that divine symmetry I felt in church with my grandma. I waited, and I wait.

All I truly knew was that I couldn’t wait to tell my friends. I floated to the living room, told them what Sharon had done for me, and we had a good laugh.

When I inherited the pages, the old diaries, I read myself again. Everything I’d ever felt was divided by generous, misused commas. There were big words I didn't understand anymore, barely understood back then. The girl on the page was outdated, but she was well-read, and read well. I agreed with her on everything, right down to her name. She wasn't gospel, but she made a lot of points.

I still find my hands joining together when I’m particularly lost. Sometimes, I upturn my chin, look at the ceiling. Maybe I speak out loud, too, and ask the hanging lamp for my next move. I don’t get an answer, but—thank god—I end up choosing one anyway.

#creative nonfic

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things. 

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait. 

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows. 

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.  

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again. 

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him. 

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia. 

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat. 

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #father of mine bonus content #Father of Mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #batboys #batfam #batman family #batsis #batfam x batsis

[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

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Sugar daddy fic (Some tags didn't work)

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[sirthisisa-wendys]

In Bloom: Alpha!Geto x Fem!Omega!Reader

synopsis: take a look at this ask

wc: 2.9k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

Omega.

The lowest of the low.

You look at your reflection and ask the universe why you aren’t at least a beta. But today you and the other omegas would be passed off to various available and willing leaders of the pack, chosen only by scent.

“It’s not so bad,” your best friend, Geto Suguru, chimes in at breakfast, assuaging your fears. He’s an Alpha, but you know he wouldn’t choose you. You two were too close to consider being part of a household together; you had been best friends since you were young, and that was the extent of it - well, that’s what you knew was true. It’s not what you wanted to be true. “Plus, sometimes you’re not picked for mating, and you meet your mate later. It’s just an easier way to distribute enough people to avoid overwhelming each house.”

“The sniffing test sounds worse than it actually is,” your sister, Marie, chuckles, nudging her beta husband, Yuta. “You’ll see what I mean later.”

And later came sooner than you thought, you realize, standing in a room with the four other omegas in the pack who haven’t been claimed yet and are of age. Nostrils are flaring, eyes are dancing around, and your head is clouded with the smells of the other betas and alphas in the room in front of you.

“No one here is pleasing to me,” Nanami crosses his hands over his chest, looking at the head of the pack with disdain. Gojo shrugs, looking over the four of you with passing interest.

“Anyone?” Toji Fushiguro steps forward, eyeing you all carefully before picking Mei Mei, a small little thing that would definitely be dominated by him inside and outside the bedroom.

“I’ll add Mei Mei to my group.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, thankful that you wouldn’t be the one Toji picked. It was every girl’s worst fear - well, until he satisfied you in bed, of course. Rumors of his prowess in bed were enough to make any omega tense up, and he was famous for not having a single complaint come from his household about polyamory. In fact, both of his mates - Gunnar and Elizabeth - were some of the kindest and heartwarming people you had ever met, despite being mated the weapons handler for the pack.

“I’ll take Haibara,” Yuki, another Alpha, announces. You look over at the man - who had been waiting patiently for this moment - as he joined the only person he loved in the camp. Yuki’s choice had not been unexpected at all. But now it’s down to you and Urahime, and you eye her with curiosity. Would Geto choose her? Or would Gojo take her? Urahime was an introvert, and not really suited for being the head of the pack, so obviously--

“Urahime,” Gojo holds his hand out, and she shuffles toward him, her hair hiding the blush creeping up her cheeks. You look over to Geto, who smiles and crosses his arms over his broad chest before nodding at you.

But wait--

“Come on, y/n.”

Wait, but wasn’t he-- didn’t he say--

Aren’t we just--

You’re still dumbfounded as he walks you to his - now your - home, which isn’t too far from yours. Geto didn’t have a mate, nor did he have anyone else in the house. That was why he spent so much time with you and your sister in your home.

“Just see this as the main house,” Geto announces as you climb the stairs behind him. “We can bounce between your old one and here if you’d like.”

“Wait,” you finally murmur, finding your voice. “Why did you choose me? Was it because I was last?” Geto turns around, raising a brow as his hand lingers on the doorknob to his bedroom.

“I would’ve picked you first if we hadn’t cast lots to see what order we would go in. I lost this time.” He swings open the door, and you see the room has completely changed from what it used to be. What used to be a bachelor’s pad with flannel sheets, LED lights, gaming consoles, and a massive TV on the wall has become a light-filled room with grey curtains, cotton sheets, a bookshelf, and two comfortable chairs by the unused fireplace instead of swivel chairs and a banner that covered up the brick enclosure.

“You redid the room…” you breathe as you walk past him, and he smiles a toothy grin, watching you take in the transformed space. “All of this for me?” You touch the comforter, and eye the row of candles beside a wooden desk - all things that weren’t there before.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Am I here just to take care of the home? I understand if that’s the case. I’d be happy to--”

“Let’s talk about it over lunch,” he murmurs, and you jog to the kitchen downstairs. Your sister is already there, apparently coming in through the side door that’s closer to your former residence. She’s just finishing up making pulled pork sandwiches, and you help her set them on the dining room table.

“Not so bad, huh?” she laughs at you, and you shrug.

“I mean, staying with Suguru and helping out until he meets his mate is enough for me,” you smile, placing a bag of chips onto the table. Your sister raises her brow but says nothing else while you work. When you finish setting the table, you all take your places and begin to eat, the silence deafening. You glance at Geto, hoping he will explain your duties while you stay here, but he just looks at Yuta, who glares back at him.

“Just spit it out, Suguru,” your sister gripes, and Geto sighs, placing his sandwich back on his plate.

“So, y/n. I know today you joined my household, and I want to tell you why.”

“Sure,” you shift in your seat, placing a chip in your mouth before Suguru announces,

“I want to be mated to you.” Saliva and chip pieces create a blockage in your throat, and you cough, eyes falling to your lap as your sister pats your back roughly.

“Me?” you finally croak, still choking a little. “Are you sure? We’re friends, Geto, not--”

“I would hope that would come with time. But I wanted to know if you would stay with me. You can say no and move back into the house with your sister; I won’t be hurt.”

“It’s not like you would be doing anything you’re uncomfortable with,” your sister adds. “All of this will be at your pace.”

You scoot your chair back, and whisper, “I need some time to think.”

_____________________________________________________________

Your time to think about everything lasted more than one night. It lasted almost a whole two weeks, you realize when you look up from your wooden desk. Geto had given you the room to yourself, choosing to huddle on the couch downstairs or retreat to his study when necessary.

You hadn’t really touched on the prospect of mating with him the entire time, not wanting to betray your feelings for him as a big brother, but the part of you that saw him as a handsome and caring man (and potential mate) wouldn’t go away. Actually, it just grew as you cohabitated with him and learned more about him.

But today would be especially difficult, you remember, rubbing your thighs together. You look over at the collections of pillows and one stolen hoodie from Suguru’s closet. You try your best to avoid being near him because you know what kind of overdrive your heat would throw him into. So you stayed in your room for most of the time, using the master bathroom, and only coming out to eat when you knew he left to run an errand. Your stomach growls angrily, and you clutch at it, hoping Suguru would go out for lunch and leave you so you could grab food and just be left alone to decide what you want to do if anything. You pick up your phone and frantically text your sister:

SOS, need food

Within a moment, your phone buzzes and Marie replies:

Can’t you ask Suguru?

You furiously type:

No! Last day of pre-heat.

Seconds later, a knock at your door startles you so bad that you almost leap out of your seat, and you call out, “Yes?” The door opens to your dismay, and Suguru peeks his head in, his wet hair and grey shirt appearing first. Should’ve locked the door.

“Marie told me to check on you, are you…” He examines the nest of blankets, pillows, and the stolen hoodie, and the confusion in his eyes vanishes. “Oh.” You try not to grimace, but he closes the door behind him, retreating down the stairs then reappearing with a carton of juice and a bag of trail mix.

“I keep these around, just in case,” he explains, then walks out of the room. “Lock your door,” he warns, then shuts it behind him with finality.

_____________________________________________________________

The knob jiggles in the middle of the night.

That’s when you know your heat has started.

“You okay in there, y/n?” Suguru murmurs, lips pressed to the crack of the door. You shift the large blanket off of you and wipe the sweat from your face.

“I’m fine,” you croak and rub your face slowly. “Just tired.”

“L-let me know if you need anything.” You hear him slump against the door and slide down, effectively blocking any and all exits. “Do you want to go home to your sister?” he calls out, and you groan.

“No.” You didn't want to inconvenience your sister and Yuta in this way, and she’d already snitched on you once in hopes that your heat would push you and Suguru together.

“Sure you don’t need anything?”

“N-no.” You whisper, and he falls silent, no doubt attempting to figure out how he can get on the other side of the door. No, you still had to decide. If you held out for long enough, you’d find out that his feelings were just figments of your imagination, and Geto couldn’t be interested in an Omega like you. He needed a Beta, a beautiful one that could match him in every way. You’re not that woman, and you could never be.

“Y/n…” You perk up at the way he whines your name, and inch closer to the door. “Let me in. Please.”

You hold a hand to the smooth wood, closing your eyes and letting it fall to your lap.

“You need a strong mate,” you answer, shaking your head. “I’m not the right one for you.” You stare at the doorknob with longing. You could open the door and let him in, but what would happen when he moved on to someone better? You’d be crushed, settling into the reality that you’re just a replaceable Omega.

“I don’t want anyone but you. No beta or other omega could be perfect for me. Not like you are, y/n.” When you don’t answer, Suguru murmurs, “Remember when we were in the park when you got your first heat?” You nod, even though he can’t see you. “I swore you knocked me flat on my ass right then and there. I knew I didn’t want anyone else from then on, but I had to fight Gojo once you ran off with your sister to go home.” He chuckles, as if this happened yesterday and not when you were seventeen, which was five years ago.

Your hand is reaching for the doorknob before you can stop it, and you unlock the door, anticipating Suguru to burst in and ravage you. But when he opens the door, he walks in slowly, taking stock of you on the floor and in an old t-shirt of his. He’s still in a grey shirt and joggers from before, his hair pulled back like always.

When he crouches down to face you, you’re shaking - whether it’s from fear or from excitement, you can’t tell. Either way, when Suguru places his hand on your cheek, you feel all of your nerves drift away. He taps a kiss to your nose, then tilts your head up to kiss you on the lips, holding you close by the neck. Once he’s done kissing your mouth, he trails below your chin, lips making a path to your collarbone.

“Get this off me,” you moan, and he flips his shirt off of you, tossing it into your nest before lifting you and taking you to the bed. He lays on top of you, spreading your legs wide while you jerk your hips up to meet his palm.

“I know you want to go fast,” he breathes, pressing another kiss to your mouth. “But let’s go slow. Take our time, hmm?” You whine, a fire building in the pit of your stomach while he smooths his fingers and lips over your skin. “I’ve waited for this for years.”

“Please take me now,” you plead, and Suguru shakes his head, diving past your underwear and sliding a finger into you easily.

“Patience, sweetheart.”

You don’t know how you got so turned on, but damn Suguru is going incredibly slow. You grunt in displeasure and your hands feverishly push down his joggers, letting his hard length spring free without hesitation. Suguru is taken aback at your show of aggression, but he follows it with his own, taking his teeth and raking them up your leg.

“Can’t hold back, huh,” he wonders, finally shucking his pants off. The dark-eyed Alpha removes your underwear and spreads your legs, pumping his cock a few times before nestling into your heat. You both give a loud groan of pleasure, which rocks you to your core as he sinks into you before pulling out, then thrusting back inside of you. You keen as he angles his hips so that your hips are meeting him easily without a single ounce of resistance.

“Please, Su,” you whisper, holding him close as he fucks you senseless. A haze settles in over you and you’re lost, wandering around aimlessly in your mind as he continues to pump into you. There’s no pain, no fear, no nothing. Just you and Suguru mating in your bed with abandon.

A stretching feeling fills you towards your entrance, and you pant, feeling even more full than before.

“S-Suguru…” you hiccup, but he hushes you, still pushing into you as his hand ghosts over your cheek.

“It’s okay… everything’s okay…” His fingers are shaking, but you don’t know why. Even so, something in you shifts, and you feel the burning fire roaring to life in your stomach. You grip him a little harder and cry out his name, which makes him lean forward, mouth open. At first, you think he’s going to kiss your neck, but when you feel his teeth graze a sensitive spot and then press down, you know what’s happening immediately. His scent explodes tenfold and you do the same, biting into his neck with equal pressure and feeling a trickle of blood run from the spot after a while.

The feelings that flood in are incredibly overwhelming, and you suddenly lose all sense of time, space, and knowledge. A loud exhalation is ripped from your throat, and Suguru echoes your sound a few moments later, spilling his seed deep inside of you.

A few minutes pass, and he’s recovered considerably, the mark on his neck still fresh with blood but not as red. His knot has only gone down a fraction, but you don’t mind. Your thoughts are like water and mist, just flowing past you easily, nothing sticking for too long.

“Talk to me,” Suguru whispers, but you can’t reply, your mind landing on one word, but then ghosting it away as soon as you go to speak it. All you can do is rest in his arms, nuzzling him close and closing your eyes.

BONUS:

As you rest with your back against Suguru’s chest, he’s making that sound while rubbing your swollen stomach. The sound is like a croon - bordering on a purr - and whenever he does it, it soothes you to the point of sleepiness. Your pup is tossing and turning despite Suguru’s soothing motions, and you wonder what your pup would be for a second before Yuki and Haibara appear in the backyard.

The sounds of greetings from the other pack members echo around the large space, and you watch them hand over a plate of uncooked steaks to Yuta, who is busy flipping the meat on the grill. Yuki approaches you, hands out to touch your bump as Haibara chats with Gojo and a two-year-old Yuji.

“I say it’s an Alpha by how much it keeps you up at night,” Yuki speculates, and you laugh, praying to God you wouldn't have a mini-Suguru running around the house any time soon. Gojo would very easily snatch him (or her) up and train them how to be “the strongest”, which wouldn’t bode well for your doors or kitchen cabinets.

“I’ve been telling her it’s an Alpha,” Geto chimes in, and you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Are you going to also tell Yuki here what you said about the Fushiguro’s son?”

“What?” he asks innocently. “I only said Megumi would make a great Omega.”

“And Toji told you to eat shit.” Yuki leans back and cackles, holding her stomach.

“Sounds just like Toji.” You let the two alphas continue their conversation, tuning them out and watching Megumi run across the grass with Yuji and Nobara.

“You know, there’s only one thing worse than a curse user,” You hear Gojo mutter to Toji, and the green-eyed man nods.

“Yeah, a child.”

#geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen getou #geto suguru #jjk geto #getou suguru #getou x reader #geto smut #jjk smut #omegaverse #jjk omegaverse #jujutsu kaisen

[s1ater]

the older boy, part two. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which reader’s friends warn her about the older boy with the red mohawk but she doesn’t listen

warning/s 🚫: swearing

slater’s note 🗯: omg slater finally uploaded 😮

part one, part two

hawk: miss me princess?

you squinted your eyes from the bright glare surfacing from the screen of your phone. it had to be about close to midnight and it was almost something you expected, this text.

he always texted late, always catching you minutes before you decided to clock out for bed, and always drawing out your sleep schedule. so instead of going to bed at 11:30 like normal, you ended up wide awake well around two hours later.

y/n: you flatter yourself too much

hawk: is that so? thought you always looked forward to our nightly convos

y/n: other than them being nightly, sure

hawk: i’m a busy man

you rolled your eyes, “sure you are.”

y/n: that’s probably why i never see you outside of school then huh

you couldn’t careless on why you never saw hawk outside of school. it seemed to be rather a blessing from all the things you had been hearing about him lately. it was just fun to tease.

he liked being teased as weird as it sounded, it fired him up as he stared at the screen of his phone, smirking. hawk knew you knew why you never saw him and why he never saw you. you guys weren’t friends, barely acquaintances, only two oblivious lonely people who wanted someone to fill their hormonal needs. 

hawk: you never see me sweetheart because you never want to

y/n: that’s a lie

hawk: is it?

y/n: i’d love to see you

hawk: i’m sure you would, but face it princess, you’d chicken out halfway through before you’d even see my face

y/n: lies, you sure you’re not talking about yourself?

but was it really a lie? you wondered, thinking whether or not your wits and nervousness would overcome you before you actually saw the face of eli if you were to ever hang out with him.

you bit your lip thinking about earlier today when moon said to stay away from eli for rather obvious reasons. one being he was violent and angry a lot of the time and two... he was a teenage asshole who’d fuck you over the minute you showed vulnerability.

hawk: let me come over if you’re not a pussy

you bit your tongue at the sight of the message. great, you thought. now you had to come up with some excuse only to prove hawk right; that you were a pussy. the thing was, you didn’t actually think he’d want to see you.

it was like a silent agreement that your relationship was flirting only, nothing else. he was like a side hustle along with all the other boys who hit you up through your snapchat.

y/n: sorry babe, i only let boys who actually talk to me in real life come over

hawk: alright, fuck you lmfao

eli mindlessly smiled at his phone screen while shaking his head. he knew you’d be a challenge, and he knew you’d turn him down any minute or mention of hanging out.

he found taunting and teasing you amusing and sometimes the highlights of his days but sometimes it also got boring with how you didn’t put out as easily as the other girls.

y/n: sorry bud

hawk: alright, goodnight princess ;)

°•

it was uneventfully windy as you stood outside waiting for moon’s red car to pull up and drop you home. you almost swore as you came into realization that she probably forgot about you, again.

you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as you checked your phone once again, absent of any notifications that would relate to moon.

you were beginning to feel sick, the kind of sick that resonated in your stomach from a sprout of loneliness. you shook your head, pushing yourself off the brick high school wall deciding you better start walking now if you wanted to get home before five.

your feet begun to burn five minutes into walking the shortest route you could think of as a way home, “fucking, moon.” you shook your head, taking out your phone again. she always had the strangest memory problems and seemed to always goes m.i.a. the moments you need her the most, such as.. when you were desperately in need a ride home. 

“need a ride?”

you almost jumped in surprised, not realizing a car had pulled up next to you as you were focused on your phone. you dipped your head down to the low window of the old red cadillac pulled up next to you, their windows rolled down, old rap music turned down low in order to speak to you. 

eli.  

“nice car,” you quirked your brow with a slight impressed smile. he was one of the last people on earth you would expect to give you a ride despite your conversation the last night. 

“you want a ride or not, princess?” “oh, i wouldn’t want to ruin your special me time, hawk.”

“get in the fucking car, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, quickly done with your bullshit as he put the car in drive. you reluctantly got in the nice car, swinging your bag to the floor as you couldn’t help smile to yourself. 

“you know i’ve never been in a karate kid’s car before,” you mumbled lightly, examining the interior of the car better, your fingers running against the smooth dashboard, impressed by how well restored the old car was. 

“is that so?” he glanced at you, a slight smirk on his face. 

“who restored the car?” you mumbled, your eyes still looking around almost like a kid in a candy store, only more subtle, trying to hide the fact how impressed you were with the car. 

he glanced at you again, almost taken back by the question. it was never a question he had heard before, especially by a girl. he smirked, trying to hide his own surprisal, “you know larusso? guy helped me out with it.”

“nice,” you mumbled, leaning back into the seat, done with your examination. 

it was silent now, and you almost sat comfortably if it weren't for the voice in the back of your head yelling at you that the whole thing was a bad idea. you wanted to ignore it so badly, because you had never actually ever saw a red flag from eli other than the fact that it’s basic knowledge he’d a fuck boy. 

he seemed like a generally good guy. no not a good guy, a guy that was your type. eli wasn’t at all the good guy type but more or so the douche that was only nice to certain group of people, you being on of them. 

because he wanted to fuck you. 

“got something on your mind?” he glanced at you, almost nervously like you'd hop out the window with any wrong move he made. 

“no,” you said it fast making him smirk, almost as if he knew what you were thinking, almost as if he were familiar with the typical female anxiousness. familiar with the fast talking, redden cheeks, lip bites, fingers fiddling, all of it, it seemed as if he just knew. 

and eli was, it hadn't taken him long when going through girls to pick up on the similar body language they all seemed to have. because really, down to the bottle, they all did the same thing; always rubbed their lips together prompting for kisses, using a different fragrance than usual when finally alone, fingers tapping, lessening the clothing on their body than the usual outfit. all similar, and he could almost see it in you despite this being an unintentional meet up... and you weren't trying to pounce on. 

“actually.. yeah,” you lightly bit your bottom lip as you looked at your lap, trying to think of the best way to ask him the question that had been on your mind for awhile; “what do you expect from me, eli?” wow, what kind of question was that?

it was an honest and upfront one, something he wasn't used to, practically sending him into shock as he had to look at you fully to see if you were actually serious and not pulling his leg, seeming like something you'd do. 

but you really wondered. 

“uh- i, what?”

you awkwardly laughed, looking to him, “no, i mean i really don't give a shit, i’m just not about to lead you into something you think you’re going to get nudes in, because your really not.” 

wow, really? 

he almost swore aloud, biting his lip hard, now realizing you really weren't going to be easy, not as easy as the girls who put out the moment you called them pretty, or even the ones who you had to take on a date before they even sent. 

fuck. 

he laughed it off, shaking his head as if you were a fool for thinking that, “you really think that low of me?”

no worries, there’s always plan b; make you feel bad. 

you laughed in return, “yeah, i really do.”

but he forgot you weren’t that stupid to fall for feeling bad just for something you weren’t about. 

“wow.”

“you wouldn't be the first.”

“so, I've heard,” he gripped his neck, eyes now glued to the road before turning into a neighborhood off from the main road, his mind following the map basically glued in his mind from driving past your house to dmitri’s. 

he parked, now seeming to ignore you as his whole plan begun to fall apart right before him. 

“thanks, eli,” you nodded to him, jumping out of the car with your bookbag in hand before beginning to trek up your front yard. 

“anytime, princess.” 

masterlist

💒

join the taglist lil doggy

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