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plasticfreckles · 2 days ago

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🪶 dream ossuary rookanis enjoy 🪶

Lucanis wakes with a start, with the unpleasant lightning strike through the body after dreaming of falling.

Only he doesn't find himself back on the raised courtyard between the big statue and the Lighthouse.

Instead, he finds himself back in the frozen, cone-shaped cell, so deep underwater that even the suspiciously clean air feels suffocating. He's so cold even the skin between his asscheeks stands up in goosehives.

Probably because he's naked, save for the shredded fabric that he snatched from the hips of the poor soul in the cell next to his, only moments after she (Nastia, he reminds himself) had succumbed to her starvation and her hunger demon had burst out of her like filling from an overcooked pie.

Not his finest moment, there.

Lucanis rubs his forehead with a sigh.

Of course he's still here. This entire business with blighted gods and archdemons and remote brain-parasites did always seem a tad too absurd to be real.

NO! Spite shrieks. He's circling him like a vulture waiting for its food to die. Gods were real! We killed them. We tore into Ghilan'nain with our teeth! We chased Elgar'nan into Minrathous! Stuck Solas to the Veil for snatching our Rook! OUR ROOK IS REAL. SHE'S SLEEPING, RESTING. IN OUR ARMS. WHERE SHE BELONGS. OUTSIDE YOUR STUPID STUBBORN SPONGEHEAD.

As if she'd walked out of the latest romance serial, took one look at his miserable self and thought I have to have him.

NO REASONING WITH YOU HERE. RESOLVE TO BE MISERABLE. WHEN WE COULD BE FREE. FREE AND - You're surprised? There's a reason you were once Determination, before we joined.

Spite rams his elbow into the back of Lucanis' head, then dissolves into thin air.

Lucanis huffs warm air into his palms, rubs them together for friction and then wraps his hands around his toes.

There's a commotion, somewhere between the space behind his eyes and the back of his head, and he feels as though he's prodded at in another plane of existence.

SEE? Spite pushes at somebody until they kneel down in front of him. ROOK IS REAL. If she were real, she wouldn't be in here with us. She'd be far above the surface, as she should. I WOKE HER. I BROUGHT HER.

Lucanis dreads what his demon might have told her to pull her from her precious rest and into his mind. Again. Judging their trajectory lately, it likely wasn't Help us, he listens to you this time.

"Hi." There's hands on his cheeks now, and whoever it is that Spite conjured up does look exactly like the woman from his escapist dreams. Her eyes are puffy, rimmed in red - has she cried?

"What's wrong?"

Oh, so. Only real if for you to fix? That's what's happening? Shut it. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE. THEN I SHUT IT.

"Spite brought me. He thinks you went back."

Lucanis can't bite back his dry chuckle. When he pointedly looks around, her hands slip from his cheeks, cradling his jaw now.

"Evidently, I did do exactly that."

"Has.. Did something happen today, before we went to sleep, that brought you here?"

"You don't need to do this. I don't need my own subconscious trying to fix me."

Fingers twirl the ends of his hair.

"I've been here before, remember? Spite brought me then, too. He - we - don't want you to feel as though you're stuck in here by yourself."

He doesn't need to tell her he did not willingly walk in here, that sometimes he still just finds himself back in his cell. She knows. She knows intimately, by virtue of caring to know him.

"I shouldn't keep returning here," he manages, eventually. "You broke me out. I'm done with this place. There's nothing left for me, here. Not even death."

When Rook stopped being a figment of his imagination, or when she'd shifted to rock the both of them left to right to left with her cheek by his hairline, he doesn't know.

"Maybe this place isn't done with you."

Letting this, however accurate and plain to see, suggestion sit with him makes him nauseous, like trying to eat after having been hungry all day.

"How do I stop coming back here, Rook?"

Her silence and her hands in his hair, strangely grounding him into the reality of this Fade-dream with the nails on his scalp, are answer enough.

Eventually, she sits back down, cross-legged, takes his hands.

He knows what that means; I have an idea.

Do it! Spite leans over her shoulder, pushing her deeper into her hunched posture with both hands on her back like he was trying to mount a horse from its backside. Rook has good ideas! Rook is smart! She will fix us. Splitting us is not in her repertoire. Breaking us out of here is!

"Well, for this specific instance, there's multiple options of what we can do," she starts. She's barefoot, too, the tops of her feet pushing into his soles. "If you'd rather be alone, I can leave - Spite won't like that, and neither do I, frankly. I don't want to leave you alone here."

She must be real, Lucanis thinks after all. How else would he know the way the space between her brows creases means But your feelings in this matter more than mine?

"But if that's what you need, you shall have it. We could leave this place together, too. Or, we could stay here together. Whichever you want. Whatever you need. If it's for me to give to you, you will have it. I promise."

He looks up from their feet, when her hand settles soft and warm and startingly familiar on his jaw, her thumb through his beard.

"I.. I can't get up."

Rook nods.

"Would you like me to stay?"

"I... If you'd rather leave-"

"I know. That's not what I asked."

Her eyes are wide and soft and endlessly loving.

"Stay. Please. Just a little longer."

"Of course."

It should be intimidating, the way she rises to stand before him, fingers working the cord that holds her dressing gown closed.

Were it anyone other than Rook, he would be, deep down. He'd never display it, of course, but he'd still feel it.

With her, though, he can freely display his - concern. Why is she undressing? In the prison of his brain?

"Rook, no. You're barefoot. We're encased in a cone of ice. You'll be so cold. Don't take off your dressing gown."

But he doesn't fight her, and the soft yellow silk-lined robe drapes warm and comforting over his shoulders.

"I am wearing more than a loincloth. I'll be all right."

Even here, somehow, in this nightmare prison that his mind keeps returning to, it's baffingly easy and natural to settle against her. She willingly offers her warmth to him, shifts with him like that's all she's made to do.

Eventually, he's curled up on his side, covered up to his eyes by the gown, her right hand rubbing his arm through the fabric and the other petting his hair.

As he closes his eyes, there's the start of a giggle in Rook's throat, hastily bitten back and covered with a breath.

"What?"

"Your ears are so small. And round. Small and round and cute."

"Is that.. good?"

"I think so. I tried to picture you with ears like mine and - no. Your ears are perfect like this."

"Thank you?"

Her body curves above him, and her lips press against his forehead. It must be a strain in her neck, how she's curling to meet him with his head in her lap.

But when he attempts to rise, to meet her halfways her hand slips from his arm to his chest and pushes him back down.

So he shifts until all his weight isn't squarely on the joint of his shoulder. Closing his eyes again under her gentle touch and soothing warmth is an easy thing. Even here.

Were he not so confused and tired and therefore sopping up her soul as though the Ossuary turned him into a wet biscuit, he might be a little scared of all that.

"How do you like your eggs?"

"I'm sorry?" He almost can't hear it, his left ear cushioned by her thigh on all sides, Spite trilling happily at her scratching over his scalp in the other.

"When we wake up, I'll make you breakfast, for a change. Something nice and simple."

"You don't have to. I know you don't enjoy cooking."

"I want to, Lucanis. Let me do something for you, just this once." He knows she'll say the exact same thing she resolves to cook for him the next time. And the time after that. And probably for the rest of all time, if she'll have him. "So: how do you like your eggs?"

"Sunny on bread."

Her thigh shifts under him, and her lips press against his right ear.

"Sunny on bread you shall have."

Instead of leaving, however, she settles down beside him, her thigh still cushioning his head, the crown of hers barely in his lap.

"After you wake up. After you have a long, long, well-deserved rest, and wake up in my arms at the Lighthouse. At home."

She says more, but he soon falls away into sleep, when she drapes her dressing gown over him like a blanket once more and reaches for his hand under the fabric.

He wakes again, before her, this time, though his face no longer lies squared in her lap.

There's no blanket covering him - it must be somewhere near the end of the bed - but Rook's body against his back is enough to to warm him through an entire Age of winter.

Her fingers are hooked into the seam of his pants, her breath warm on the back of his neck.

Sunlight filters through the massive fishtank, into the hidden corner where their bed sits.

A marvel, that. Their bed. For her and him.

See? Real. All of it. You're right. And thank the Maker for that.

A bare legs hooks over his hip.

Lucanis closes his eyes again.

🪶

directly influenced by this post by @lunammoon <3

@lanafofana this may be of interest to you

@manhattenstops p e r c e i v e

[~rina]

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arcadia-smith · 20 hours ago

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Smoke of the future

Moodboard/masterlist

Pairing: King Simon Riley x Mage!Reader

Summary: You are King Simon’s most trusted ally, gifted with the ability to glimpse the future. With your guidance, he has risen to become one of the greatest rulers the kingdom has ever known. But when forgotten memories begin resurfacing, unraveling secrets buried in time, everything changes. What will he do when forced to choose between you and his people? And when love and duty stand at odds, which path will you take?

Word count: 2.2k

Chapter 1

You’ve spent enough time in this court to grow accustomed to the whispers and wary glances the nobles cast your way. Yet, they never dare to speak their disdain aloud or meet your gaze for too long, as if fearing you might curse their blood.

You’ve always felt more at home among commoners than the noblewomen, whose greatest worries revolve around whether they’ve underdressed for an event. So, whenever an opportunity arises to slip beyond the castle walls, you take it—venturing into the village to offer herbal remedies and practice magic-infused medicine for those who plead for your aid time and time again.

It’s not as if King Simon has ever forced you to stay by his side. More than once, he’s told you that you’re free to leave whenever you wish. But every time you so much as mentioned retiring to a quiet little cabin by the borders, he's given you that look—the one that says, You can’t really leave me. I need you.

"You're terribly quiet," Simon's voice pulled at your thoughts as he leaned closer.

You shot him a look before turning your attention back to the old nobleman droning on across the table. For what felt like the fifth time this week—though the week had only just begun—he was rambling about the situation down by the coast.

"He should worry about his wife sleeping with their servant, not about something you've already gotten under control, my king."

Simon let out a quiet laugh. He’d always loved how there was no filter between your thoughts and your tongue—whatever crossed your mind inevitably spilled out.

"You've seen the future of his marriage?"

You shook your head slightly, gaze shifting to the side. Staring was impolite, you reminded yourself.

"Saw his wife sneaking away with the servant boy at the last gathering."

Simon huffed out another quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. "You do have a habit of noticing things you shouldn't."

You merely hummed in response, fingers idly tracing the rim of your goblet as the nobleman droned on, still oblivious to the fact that neither of you were truly listening.

"Should I tell him?" Simon kept his voice low "Or let him waste his breath on a matter that’s already resolved?"

"Depends. Do you want to be entertained, or do you want to be merciful?"

Simon glanced at the old man, who was still gesturing wildly, lost in his own speech. "Mercy isn't my strongest trait," he admitted.

"Neither is patience," you murmured.

His gaze flicked to you "And yet, I’ve had plenty when it comes to you."

The nobleman's voice droned on, and you felt Simon watching you. It was moments like these—where duty and formality blurred at the edges—that reminded you why you'd stayed by his side for so long. He didn’t treat you like the others did, with fear and suspicion. He listened, laughed, and—despite never saying it outright—he relied on you.

"You're patient with me, because I am quite useful." You shrugged, eyes darting to Simon "And we're friends."

Simon scoffed quietly, shaking his head "Drink your wine, little witch. We've got a long night ahead of us."

You tilted your head back against the chair’s backrest, letting your eyes slip shut. This was the part you hated most—sitting through these mind-numbing meetings. Even without your visions, they all blurred together, the same discussions looping over and over.

Simon knew how much you despised them. Hell, he hated them just as much. But he refused to suffer through them alone, so he made sure to drag you down with him every single time.

The noble's voice, along with the occasional uninterested hums from Simon, faded into the background as your mind drifted elsewhere.

The thing about your visions was that you had no control over them. You couldn’t summon them at will, and you couldn’t make them leave you alone. Some came like fleeting whispers, indistinct and blurry. Others were sharp—too vivid, too real. But one thing was certain. They were never wrong.

This time, it came quickly. Whispers swirled around you, a flickering image of a new threat looming over Simon’s life. The voices were frantic, the words blurred together—only the sharp sting of panic cutting through. Someone was screaming, but you couldn’t tell who.

A cold ache spread through your chest, a familiar weight pressing down, and then there were warm palms on your waist, grounding you.

A figure moved in the shadows, their silhouette ominous, shifting like a predator. You couldn’t see their face, but you could feel them, the weight of their presence, the sense that something was coming.

The scream—the one that had echoed so faintly—became clearer. It wasn’t just anyone. It was the King. Simon’s voice, raw and filled with pain, was unmistakable.

Your hands were hot. And wet. Blood. The blood was on your hands.

You snapped back into the room, gasping for breath, heart pounding. Your hands shot out, instinctively reaching for Simon, your fingers brushing against his sleeve.

“Did you…?” Simon straightened up, his full attention now on you.

You couldn’t find the words, so you just shook your head. Without a second thought, you pushed yourself out of your seat. Your hands curled into the fabric of your skirt, fingers gripping it tightly as you moved quickly toward the door, the sound of your hurried steps echoing in the room.

The hallway was quieter, and it gave you a moment to breathe, but the unease churned in your gut. Your palms were still warm from the vision. You rubbed them against your skirt, as if trying to erase the lingering sensation, but it didn’t help.

The sound of your own footsteps grew louder, mirroring the frantic beat of your heart. You barely registered the soft hum of the lights overhead or the distant conversations behind you. All you could think of was that scream—the rawness of it, and how much it had felt like it came from Simon.

Your hand pressed against the wall as you slowed, trying to collect yourself, trying to make sense of what had just happened. But there was no clarity, just confusion.

"Hey," Simon’s voice broke through the fog of your thoughts. You didn’t turn around.

He was right behind you, his steps purposeful, but not chasing. He was giving you space, letting you come to him on your own terms, but you knew he wouldn’t let you run for long.

“Talk to me,” he said.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before you turned to face him. "Just one of those... vivid visions."

Simon gave a slow nod "Do you need to lie down?"

Your hand tightened it's grip on your skirt "Yeah... I'll find you once I've collected myself. You go back to your duties, my King."

His gaze roamed over you, a moment of hesitation on his part, before he returned to the meeting.

His touch was warm, almost burning. You could feel your breath catching, bodies moving in sync.

"God, you're so beautiful." He whispered into your ear, arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer, his breath hot against your parted lips. "I love you, my lady."

Fingertips traced the curve of your spine, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You shivered, tilting your chin up, inviting him closer, needing more. His nose brushed against yours, foreheads resting together.

"Say it again," you breathed, hands threading into his hair, anchoring yourself to him.

Simon's lips found yours in response, slow and lingering, a promise sealed between shared breaths. "I love you," he vowed, voice breaking ever so slightly, as if the words had been carved from his very soul. "I always will."

You jolted awake, a sharp breath tearing from your lips as you pushed tangled strands of hair from your face. The remnants of his touch still lingered—phantom kisses against your skin, the steady echo of his heartbeat against your own. But it wasn’t a vision. It couldn’t be. You’d seen the same thing night after night, the scenes playing on an endless loop, like a cruel trick of the mind. And now, with the whispers growing louder in the castle halls, you wondered if the nobles were right. Perhaps you were losing your mind.

Without bothering to dress properly, you slipped out of your chambers and made your way beyond the castle walls. The cool night air wrapped around you as you hurried toward the lake house just outside the village, where the only person who could understand you awaited.

You didn’t have to knock. The elderly woman sat on the porch, hands clasped in her lap, her sharp gaze already fixed on you as if she had known you were coming.

“I made tea,” Kate said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It will ease your mind, my dear.”

You stopped a few feet away, your arms wrapping around yourself as you struggled to steady your breath. “I think I’m losing my mind.” Your voice wavered.

Kate had been your advisor for as long as you could remember. She had practically raised you, guiding you through the burdens of your gift—the same gift she possessed yet never used to rise in rank or secure a more comfortable life.

“The visions I’ve been seeing…” You swallowed, forcing the words out in a single breath. “They feel more like—”

“Memories,” Kate finished for you.

You nodded, dread settling deep in your chest. “But that’s not possible. They can’t be my memories. How could I forget something like—” You cut yourself off, rubbing your hands over your face as panic threatened to overtake you.

Kate lifted her tea, blowing gently over the steaming surface before taking a slow sip. Then, she met your eyes with a knowing look.

“Sit down, Y/N,” she said softly. “I saw this day coming. And I have been waiting for it.”

"You had a vision?" You were rooted in the spot, not moving an inch.

"Didn't need a vision to know that memories will come back. I warned you about that, but you didn't listen. Same as I've said time and time again, you cannot change the future, the visions are as they come and they're bound to happen, even if you try to delay them, sweet girl."

Your eyebrows furrowed but before you could get a word in Kate continued.

"If you're remembering, the King will soon too." She hummed, fingers curling around her tea mug. A knowing look flickered in her aged eyes. "Do you remember how you became King Simon's advisor?"

You exhaled, trying to steady yourself. "Yes.. you guided me to him when I had the vision about commotion at the border just after he took the throne."

"But that wasn't the first time you've met him, Y/N. You had known him for years before that."

Your stomach twisted, confusion settling deep in your bones. That couldn’t be true. Kate must’ve been mistaken, her age catching up to her. You would remember something like that, wouldn’t you?

"And the King, before he was who he is now, spent many quiet summer nights here."

Your frown deepened. The lake house had always been your safe haven, untouched by the weight of courtly life. If Simon had ever been here, you would remember. You should remember.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Blank.

Your mind was blank.

No visions. No flickers of familiarity. Just empty space where a lifetime of memories should have been.

"It's gonna come back," Kate hummed and you could feel her gaze on you as you tried to make sense of her words.

You shook your head "How... how is it possible?"

Kate sighed, taking a slow sip of her tea before setting the mug down with careful precision. "I remember that night like it was yesterday. You came to me crying, begging me to tell you how to change the future. You were desperate." Her eyes darkened, her voice softening with something like regret. "But when I told you, again and again, that the future cannot be changed, you left. And when you returned, it was as if a part of your life had been erased.”

Her gaze pinned you in place. “The part that was Simon.”

You took a step closer. "Tell me everything."

Kate exhaled, the weight of years pressing into her shoulders as she gestured to the chair across from her. "Sit down, Y/N."

You hesitated, every instinct screaming at you to run—to demand answers from someone else, anyone else. But you knew Kate wouldn’t lie to you. She never had. So, with a deep breath, you lowered yourself onto the wooden chair, hands gripping the edge of your cloak.

"Before he ever sat on that throne, before the crown ever weighed on his head, before the war—he was yours. And you were his."

Your lips parted, but no sound came out.

Kate sighed, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. "You saw something in a vision—something terrible. And when you realized you couldn’t stop it, you did the only thing you could."

She looked at you again, her eyes filled with something that looked an awful lot like pity.

"You erased him from your heart."

#writers on tumblr #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley royal au #royal au #king simon riley au #mage!reader #Spotify

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exploring-the-cosmos · 1 day ago

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Okay so I'll just say it because I've been thinking it for a while, but the weird dislike or sometimes even hatred for Eddie Diaz (and Ryan Guzman) that is present in this fandom feels (at times) incredibly forced at best and downright racist at worst. And he's already a pretty white-washed character as it is. This is not in any way meant as a call-out to any one person in particular, and certainly not me saying he's a perfect character above critique, but my god, I need people to inject a little bit of nuance into their views of these characters. I love Buck as much as the next 9-1-1 fan, but he is not this perfect angel who can do no wrong like some people act like he is. Likewise, Eddie has made a lot of mistakes and done a lot of shitty things (some of which Buck himself has done, too). But at the end of the day, I think he is a very complex character who is doing the best he can with what he has and means well. I don't know why some of you are in this fandom if you dislike these characters as much as it appears you do.

And the SHIPPING WARS MY GOD STOP IT. I usually stay out of shipping discourse because I think it's ridiculous and unnecessary most of the time. Ship and let ship is always an option, and I think most people would benefit from choosing it. And listen, I will admit my bias and say I am primarily a Buddie shipper. But I have no issue with Bucktommy shippers as a whole nor the ship itself being popular. Do I ship it? No. I don't even particularly like Tommy as a character, but I don't care if other people like him and the ship. What I do have an issue with, however, is the way some of y'all act with such vitriol towards Buddie shippers, Buddie as a ship, and, specifically, Eddie Diaz as a potential love interest for Buck. This is where I think some people's underlying racial bias really becomes apparent, and no, I'm not talking about all BuckTommy shippers, only those that are explicitly anti-Buddie because they don't like Eddie. Because why, WHY are you so insistent on seeing these two white men together, who have had so little time together on screen and, in my opinion, have been shown to have very little in common with each other other than the fact that they care about and are interested in each other romantically, but so against Buck potentially being in a relationship with a different man who he has been best friends with for the better part of a decade, who wrote him into his will, cares deeply about him and who he cares about just as much, spends a lot of his free time with, and who also happens to not be white? Look, I'm not gonna sit here and say every single one of you is a raging racist or anything. I don't know you. But I think a lot of y'all would benefit from a little bit of introspection as to why you feel the way that you do about some of these characters and ships. Also, yes, Buddie shippers can be toxic and racist, too. I am not saying Buddie shippers are above those behaviors as well, only making an observation specific to some people's anti-Buddie and anti-Eddie sentiment.

Also, this is an aside, but the way fandom and shipping culture in general has gravitated towards strict adherence to canon content is.... weird. Like, why are some of y'all so allergic to engaging with or creating content outside of the confines of what the canon material has offered you? Have fun, be creative, go wild, and also be respectful to the folks around you who see things differently. We all share this space, and we should all care about making it as positive and welcoming of an experience as possible.

#911 #911 abc #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 discourse #shipping discourse #shipping wars #racisim #fandom

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jordiemeow · 1 day ago

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riff speaking to shark girl on the phone bc they'd both get their asses beat if anyone else knew about it... hngh

waittt this is so cute i see the vision

Thinking your relationship (loose term—are you official? who knows, certainly not either of you) is secretive for the most part. Anita would kill you (no sister of hers is getting down and dirty with a Jet) before Bernardo had the chance to get his hands on Riff if either of them knew about it. So you resort to talking over the phone when things get hectic, holed up in your shared bedroom with Maria (the only one you trust enough with your secret.)

Hushed giggles into the phone, twirling the phone cord around your finger, sitting on the floor with your back against your bedframe. Always keeping an eye on the door just in case your sister bursts in or Bernardo gets home early from work. There's something just so thrilling about it all being a secret, even if you wished you could just see him more in person. Teaching him salsa and taking him to all the local bodegas to introduce him to Puerto Rican cuisine. You aren't sure how he gets by on hot dogs and... whatever the hell white people eat. It all looks like flavourless slop to you.

"Heya, girly," comes that familiar drawl when you hold the receiver to your ear. You can hear the distant blare of traffic through the phone, a soft frown settling on your features.

"You're not using a landline?"

"Nah, I'm payin' by the minute. The boys are layin' low 'round my place. Run in with Schrank. Couldn't risk usin' the one there without being overheard," he replies. "Why? That a problem?"

“… No,” you reply after a moment. He’s paying by the minute to talk to you. You aren't sure whether you should yell at him or smile. “You shouldn’t waste your money on that, though.”

Riff scoffs in reply. “Nah. It’s worth it,” he replies, his voice quiet. He’s very keenly aware of the way the seconds are counting up on the payphone meter, and the fact his pockets are almost empty. “Worth it to hear your voice." Shit, he said that a little too sincerely.

He swallows, leaning one hand against the wall of the booth, cheeks flushing. He's always make a fucking fool of himself when he talks to you—time to pretend he can’t practically feel your little smile from the other side of town. “And I needed to know you weren’t gonna get on my case for callin’, y’know. Cause… I figured you might still be mad at me. After all that stuff that happened with ya brother-in-law 'n' the mural the otha day."

You don't even bother correcting him anymore about Bernardo not being married to Anita. A part of you is convinced he just doesn't like to say his name—it's sacrilegious to you both, a reminder that none of this should be happening. Which is why you move on from that topic fairly quickly. For someone with such a big mouth, he's always a little quieter when you're on the phone.

He sighs softly, leaning a little more against the phone booth. He’s got to admit, it’s nice just to hear your voice, even though you're not saying anything particularly groundbreaking. Telling him what you had for lunch and that your sister is working on a new dress for you. Something about that boy—Bernardo's 'good amigo,' apparently—Chino staring at Maria with hearts in his eyes on your walk together. Your voice makes him feel all tingly, for whatever reason. He'd listen to you read the damn dictionary and enjoy every word of it.

“Jesus,” he mutters, rubbing his free hand against the back of his neck. “You talk an awful lot, girly. Anybody ever tell ya that?”

“Lo siento, I just—“ A few beats of silence, before you turn the conversation around on him. “How are you? Didn’t get up to any trouble today?"

He snorts at the way you parrot his early question back at him. “Me? Trouble? Me? Nah,” he responds, his tone just shy of mocking, “Would never.”

"Right," you hum noncommittally. Bullshit, but you don’t say that. You both know it already.

“Jus’ been… chillin’ all day. Been thinkin’,” he says, histone shifting into something a tad softer. He really has been thinking; thinking of you all day like a total lovestruck dumbass, and not a gang leader. He’s still not sure how any of this even happened. He’s never felt this way about any girl before, not even Graziella, or the other girls he sleeps with. And yet here he is using up all his damn coins to talk to you like this because his boys are hanging around his place.

“Thinking? That’s surprising. You don’t do much of that, gringo,” you tease.

Riff scoffs and his face warms slightly at your teasing tone. He's glad he's in this damn booth and out of sight. He’s never been able to deal well with people making fun of him—too quick to throw a punch in return, or a jab that's far meaner. But coming from you? It’s different. You're not just 'people.'

“No, I think,” he retorts in faux indignation, a huff of amusement escaping him. God, you could say anything and he'd be laughing down the phone. “You just make me go dumb, girly. Can’t seem to think 'bout anythin’ but you.” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop it, and his flush deepens. His inner monologue is quick to jump on the sincerity of his voice: Jesus, Riff - why the hell’d you go and say that, huh? What are you, a fuckin' pussy?

A soft little smile graces your face at that. "Yeah? You're not going soft on a 'damn PR', are you, Riff?"

His teeth grit at the thought of appearing all mushy. He'd never hear the end of it from the Jets if he was ever caught seeming soft over a Puerto Rican girl, let alone one that shares blood with Bernardo's girlfriend. "Nah, hell no," he responds, with a tsk of disapproval. When did his palms get so sweaty? "I'm as tough as they come, girly. Tough as freakin' nails."

There’s a pause, and you can practically hear the way his jaw is gritted. You're almost worried you've said the wrong thing—you know how sensitive he is about his tough lil’ gangster image, or whatever. But when he speaks again, his voice loses some of the defensive bite it had just been inflected with. “But… maybe there’s another part of me… maybe… maybe you just make me real goddamn stupid, that’s all.”

There’s a soft breath of laughter from you, but it’s not mocking. No, quite the opposite. Your heart swells with fondness for this stupid boy. “… Lindo,” you say, mostly to yourself. You have no doubt he won't understand that, which is probably a good thing. He'd throw a hissy fit if he was ever associated with the adjective cute. You're sure that tantrum would be adorable, too. “How many minutes do you have left?”

He frowns a little at the Spanish term—he never knows what the hell you're talking about—but he lets it slide. Riff glances up at the clock, kissing his teeth and making a mental note to scrounge together more coins next time. He's not sure how, but he'll make it work. He's not above going back to his pick-pocket days if he really has to.

“Not a lot,” he responds regretfully. “This damn thing’s gonna run out any minute now. Wish I could talk for longer. Damn payphone."

“Mmm. That’s a shame,” you say, sounding just as reluctant. A silence follows your words and it's clear neither of you want to be the first to initiate a goodbye. “... But you’ll call tomorrow night, sí?”

That makes his breath hitch, the irritation at the stupid phone evaporating as a little warm bolt of excitement shoots up his spine. He'll never get tired of hearing that you actually look forward to these calls with him.

“Yeah, 'course I will. Nine o’ clock again?”

"Nine o'clock," you hum in confirmation.

He nods rapidly, even though you can't see him, lips twitching upwards into a crooked smile. “Nine o’clock,” he affirms again, and he sounds far too eager for a phone call with a girl than a tough ol' guy like him should. “I should probably go now, before I get charged for another minute. Or before this stupid fuckin' thing kicks me off the call."

You laugh at his frustration towards the inanimate object, but it fades into something a little more rueful. “Sí, sí. Save your coins for tomorrow.”

He lets out a short, soft huff of a laugh when he hears your own. Then he's rubbing the back of his neck as if he’s suddenly feeling a little shy, even though no one else can hear him. No one but you, just how he likes it. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll talk to ya tomorrow, then.”

“Buenas noches, Riff,” you reply softly.

It's embarrassing the way his heart flutters every time you wish him a goodnight in your language.

“‘Night, girly,” he mumbles, a little awkwardly, like he isn't sure what to say now. You'd think he'd be used to ending these calls, but he always feels like a young teenager talking to a pretty girl for the first time.

He lingers for a second longer, until finally he places the receiver back on the holder (just before the minutes expire), and walks out of the booth, feeling simultaneously a whole hell of a lot better after talking to you, but missing your voice already. He lets out another soft huff, more of a laugh, really, and starts the walk back home, feeling like an idiot. He's so fucking screwed.

He’s still thinking about how much of a softie he just sounded like—“I’m dumb, you just make me dumb”?!—when he finally gets back to his apartment. Still hears your voice in his head, the sound of you saying buenas noches, and lindo (whatever the hell that means), and calling him a gringo like it’s a term of endearment. Still thinking about the way he'd actually blushed while Tony slaps his shoulder and welcomes him back.

Yeah. He's definitely bringing more coins tomorrow night.

#jo asks ⋆˚࿔#jo writes ⋆˚࿔#riff lorton #riff lorton x reader #riff lorton x you #riff lorton fic #west side story fic #west side story 2021 #buenas noches boyfriend!!!

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badomenslullaby · 2 days ago

Text

Sleepwalker

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Singer!Reader Warnings: Angst :) Song:

MasterList

Noah has been plaguing your dreams more frequently than usual. You turn over, groaning, and reach for your phone on the nightstand. After a minute of blindly slapping around, your fingers finally find it. You bring it to your face, squinting against the glow of the screen.

1:00 AM- Great.

With a sigh, you sit up and flick on the lamp. It’s been a month since you last talked to Noah, a month since the performance. Just like you told him you would, you stopped reaching out, stopped begging for his attention. No more answering his midnight calls and texts when he was looking for a hookup.

The silence should feel freeing. So why does he still haunt you?

Shaking off the thought, you quietly get up, grab your laptop from your desk, and climb back into bed. Lately, you’ve developed a habit: one you know isn’t healthy. Scrolling through tea blogs on Twitter, keeping up with Noah without actually talking to him.

It never ends well.

Every time you see a new picture of him- smiling, arm slung around a different girl- your chest tightens. Your heart cracks just a little more. A familiar, sinking weight settles in your stomach, anxiety creeping in like an old friend you wish would stop visiting.

“Fuck,” you whisper as you slam your laptop shut.

Of course, he’s still sleeping around. Why wouldn’t he be? You leaving wasn’t a loss to him; it never was. If anything, he was probably relieved, free of the weight of you hanging on, free to chase whatever temporary high he wanted. That’s all you ever were to him, wasn’t it? A quick fix. An ego boost. A warm body when it was convenient. Nothing more.

With hot tears trailing down your face, you push away from your bed, heading to your desk on instinct. Your hands tremble as you grab your favorite pen, the one that’s been with you through every heartbreak, every late-night revelation. The emotions clawing at your chest are too much to hold in, so you let them spill onto the page instead.

Feeling out of body and somehow I can't breathe…

As the words flow, the pain doesn’t disappear, but at least now, it has somewhere to go. You begin to feel lost in the process, letting the pain take over the writing. Your hand aches, but you don’t stop. The ink smears slightly where a stray tear lands, but you keep going, faster, as if outrunning the emotions clawing at your chest.

Been seeing myself in third person

Talking to the walls as if they would listen

To the shadow figure in my R.E.M

Are you a demon or a guardian?

Time passes by quickly, and before you know it, it’s 6 in the morning. The house starts to stir, and only then do you glance at the clock, blinking against the haze of exhaustion. Your fingers ache from gripping the pen too tightly, and your eyes burn from the lack of sleep, but the weight in your chest feels a little lighter.

Closing your eyes to give them a break, you take a deep breath, calming your ever-beating heart. The weight of the song begins to settle, but it still hangs heavy in your chest. After a minute of breathing, you finish the bridge of the song, your pen moving almost on its own, like a release of everything you’ve been holding in.

Counting black sheep until my eyes bleed

Silent when I scream

Can't stop from pulling out my own teeth

Counting black sheep until my eyes bleed

Silent when I'm choking on the dirt

Reaper fear me

There was a knock on the door, causing you to jump a little in surprise. Groaning, you get up from your desk, your legs stiff from sitting for so long. As you shuffle your way to the door, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You wince slightly, taking in your reflection. Your hair is a messy bun that’s been there for three days, likely leaving knots in your curly strands. The dark circles under your eyes are more pronounced now, a painful reminder of the restless nights you’ve been enduring for the past month. You look nothing like the person you used to be.

You slowly crack the door open, squinting against the light. Sierra and Nico are standing there, looking at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. You raise an eyebrow, still groggy from the lack of sleep.

“What’s up?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but the exhaustion in your voice is unmistakable.

Sierra speaks up first, her voice bright and upbeat despite the early hour. "Come out with us," she says, giving you a hopeful smile. "We're trying to do a band hangout day, no work, just some fun."

Nico nodded behind her, his usual laid-back grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, you’ve been cooped up in here long enough. Plus, we could all use a break from the chaos."

You bite your bottom lip, thinking it over. All you really wanted to do was finish your song, but you knew your bandmates weren't going to take no for an answer. Sighing, you reluctantly agree.

"Okay... sure. When are we heading out?" you ask softly, your voice still tinged with the remnants of exhaustion.

Sierra’s smile widens, and she shoots Nico a playful look. "We were thinking now, actually," she says, clearly excited. "Get dressed, and we’ll give you thirty minutes."

Nico chuckles, already turning to head back toward the hallway. "You’ve got this; just don’t overthink it. We’ll be waiting."

You close the door and sigh, feeling the weight of your decision settle over you. You don’t want to go out, but you know there’s no backing out now. You shuffle back to your bed and sit on it for a moment, staring at your phone. The thought of checking Twitter crosses your mind, but you immediately shake it off. It would only make things worse.

Taking a deep breath, you get up and walk into your en suite bathroom. The hot water from the shower hits your skin, and for a moment, you let the steam and warmth clear your thoughts. It feels like a small moment of peace before you have to face the world again. You take your time, trying to let the shower wash away the doubts and frustrations that have been lingering for the past month.

After a scorching 15-minute shower, you step out, letting the steam wrap around you like a fading cocoon. You decide to put some effort into your appearance, hoping it might make you feel even better. After rummaging through your closet, you settle on a short black sundress paired with your favorite Mary Janes- something simple but enough to make you feel like yourself again.

You stand in front of the mirror and sigh, you’re still looking a little rough. After working your hair products through your curls, you shape them with careful hands, trying to tame their unruly nature. Your eyes drift to the dark circles beneath them, a visible reminder of the sleepless nights. With a resigned breath, you dab on some concealer to hide them. What starts as a quick fix turns into a full routine, and before you know it, you’re finishing off with your usual eyeliner, the familiar strokes bringing a small sense of normalcy.

The day went surprisingly well, you actually had fun with your friends. You and Sierra took a bunch of pictures together, laughing and posing in the moment. Later, she posted them all over her social media, flooding her feed with snapshots of the day. Almost instantly, hundreds of comments poured in, with people expressing relief at finally seeing pictures of you after a month of silence. Some even admitted they had been worried.

Sierra, always observant, caught something interesting: Noah had viewed her Instagram story. Smirking to herself, she had sneakily snapped a picture of you in a quiet moment, smelling a flower, and added it to her story. She waited just long enough to make sure he saw it before finally putting her phone away.

Everyone was gathered around, enjoying their ice cream, when Ryder was the first to break the silence.

“I heard some shuffling around last night around two in the morning. Are you okay, Lilith?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes. He knew you’d been having a hard month- hell, they all did.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a song idea stuck in my head, so I spent the night writing it out and jotting down notes on how I want the instrumental to sound.”

Everyone perked up, their interest piqued. It felt good to see them excited and happy that you were still finding inspiration.

“Would you mind showing us after this? We can head back to the house and check it out in the studio,” Zane suggested.

You smiled and nodded, excitement bubbling up inside you for the first time in a while. It always made you happy when your bandmates showed interest in your writing. Once you all finished your frozen treats, you headed back to the house together, the anticipation growing with each step.

When you all got to the house, everyone went their separate ways to grab what they needed before meeting in the basement studio. Back in your room, you decide to change into something more comfortable. Slipping into a pair of sweatpants, you rummaged through your sweatshirts- until your hands froze on something that made your heart ache.

Noah’s favorite hoodie.

Somehow, it had ended up mixed in with your clothes. You sighed, staring at it. He used to wear it all the time- so much so that fans would joke about it in the comments of photos and tweets. You took a deep breath, hesitating. Then, against your better judgment, you pulled it on. Just this once, you told yourself. Just this once, you’d let yourself slip into him again.

Grabbing your songbook, you head down to the basement, where the session goes better than you could have imagined. You sing the lyrics for the band, and together, you all work on shaping the instrumentals. You watch as everyone takes turns recording their parts, the boys tweaking the audio and splicing everything together seamlessly.

As Nico steps up to record his bassline, Sierra suddenly pulls you aside, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Let’s take a picture for the cover," she says, practically buzzing.

You hesitate, glancing down at yourself. "But… this is Noah’s sweatshirt. Everyone’s going to know that."

Sierra smirks, mischief written all over her face. "That’s the point, babe. Let’s get everyone talking."

You inhale deeply, nerves twisting in your stomach, but ultimately, you nod. Standing in front of the wall, you strike a few poses while Sierra snaps away. Once she’s satisfied, she scurries off to edit, already working on turning the photos into the perfect cover.

You return to the boys and find them huddled around the computer, deep in concentration.

"How's it going? When do you think it'll be done?" you ask, leaning in slightly.

Zane looks up with a small smile. "In about two hours. Are you thinking of posting it tonight?"

You hesitate for only a moment before nodding. You want it out as soon as possible.

Zane gives you a thumbs-up before turning back to work, and with excitement bubbling in your chest, you head up to your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you take a deep breath. Usually, the band spends weeks building up hype for a release, teasing snippets, and carefully planning promos. But this time feels different. This one is personal.

You know you won’t feel any relief until the song is out. So, without overthinking, you grab your phone and, for the first time in a month, post on all your social media:

Midnight release.

Almost instantly, your phone starts blowing up with notifications; likes, comments, and reposts flooding in. Fans are thrilled, their excitement pouring through the screen in all caps and exclamation points.

@bandlover99: "OMG THEY’RE BACK. MIDNIGHT CAN’T COME FAST ENOUGH!!! 😭🔥" @altmusicjunkie: "No warning, no promo, just pure chaos. I LOVE THIS BAND." @sleepwalkersupremacy: "Best surprise of the year!! We are SO ready!!" @punkprincess27: "WHY DO YOU GUYS ALWAYS DROP BANGERS OUT OF NOWHERE?? WE NEED TO PREPARE!! 😭😭"

As you scroll through the comments, a small smirk tugs at your lips. The buzz is already insane, and the song hasn’t even dropped yet. A couple of hours went by, and Sierra stopped by to show you her finished work on the single cover. You loved it, the colors, the vibe; it perfectly matched the energy of the song. She emailed it to you as an attachment, grinning as she left.

The boys were also done with their work on the song and emailed it to you, giving you one last chance to listen before it went live. You clicked the link, your heart was racing as the sound washed over you. It was everything you had envisioned and more. The mix was perfect, the energy undeniable.

Everything was finally in place, and all you needed to do now was wait…

Feeling a bit stir crazy, you decide to go for a walk in the woods behind your house, wanting to let nature heal you and breathe in the fresh air. You pull your hoodie tighter around you as the cool evening air brushes against your skin. The woods were peaceful, almost like they were waiting for you to come back to them. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been out there until the sun has dipped, and the shadows are stretching long. The music in your ears fades into the background as you lose yourself in your thoughts- your song, your band, the aftermath of all the recent changes.

After walking for hours, you come back to reality when the familiar sight of your house appears through the trees. The walk didn’t make everything go away, but the quiet gave you space to breathe and think without any distractions. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers, but at least now, you felt a bit lighter. The world had kept spinning while you were out, and now, all you could do was wait for what was to come next.

Hours passed, and you lost track of time as you walked through the woods, letting the fresh air clear your mind. By the time you returned home, it was 9 PM. The excitement and nerves had settled, but the anticipation still lingered in the air.

You find yourself sitting at your desk, staring at the clock. 11:58- Two minutes before the song drops. Nerves begin to settle in, but you know it's going to be good. You bite your lip, tapping your fingers against the desk in rhythm with your racing heartbeat. A rush of excitement floods through you, but there's a nervousness too, the kind that always comes before something big. This is it. No more second-guessing. It’s out of your hands now.

With a deep breath, you post the song.

Quietly, you wait to see the responses. Your phone buzzes almost immediately. You glance at it, your heart skipping a beat as the first few comments pop up. The anticipation is overwhelming, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as the notifications flood in. Every like and every comment feels like a weight lifted off your shoulders. It’s out there now. It’s real.

As the notifications roll in, you keep glancing at the comments, trying to keep your focus, but then something catches your eye. One of the fans has commented:

@rockinlilith: “Wait… is that Noah’s hoodie?”

You freeze, a lump forming in your throat. The sweatshirt. You’d hoped no one would notice, but it’s obvious now. The fans are talking about it, piecing it together. They’re quick; they always are. A small, bittersweet smile pulls at your lips as you read more comments.

@fiery_phoenix: "This song is so fire! But wait, is that Noah’s hoodie Lilith is wearing? 🤔" @stormchaser123: "Anyone else notice the hoodie? Pretty sure it’s Noah’s. Is there a deeper meaning behind that? 😱" @midnightmuse: "The song is absolutely amazing, but I gotta know… is that Noah’s hoodie? I’m getting some major mixed signals here. 👀" @punk_heart97: "This track is a vibe! But Lilith, are we seeing a little nod to Noah with the hoodie? 🤨" @starstruck_gurl: "You can feel the emotion in this track! And, uh, is that Noah’s hoodie? Spilling some tea here or what? 😏"

You were slightly amused by all the comments, happy that people recognized his sweatshirt. Maybe now Noah would feel a little shitty for all the times he took you for granted. You couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction seeing the internet buzz with questions about it. Maybe it was petty, but it felt good to know that you were finally taking some control, even if just a little.

Surprised, you see that Matt left a comment on your post as well.

@mattxdierkes: "Not bad, not bad at all. Props to you guys. This has got some serious energy."

You freeze for a moment, unsure how to gauge the comment. Matt, along with the other guys, has always been cool with you, but you also know they’ll always have Noah’s back.

As you're scrolling through the flood of comments, your phone buzzes. Expecting another notification about the song, you glance down and freeze.

Nicholas 🦊

Your fingers hover over the screen before you finally open the message.

Nicholas 🦊: Hey, Lil. The song’s incredible. You really put your heart into this one.

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Nicholas had always been the calm one, the mediator, the one who never picked sides outright. He and Noah are practically brothers, but he never treated you like an outsider. Before you can reply, another message pops up.

Nicholas 🦊: Saw the cover, too.

Your heart skips. He doesn’t say anything more. No teasing, no prying, just… acknowledgment. A quiet understanding between the lines.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard before you finally type a response.

You: I'm Glad you liked the song. Hope you’re doing well.

A few seconds pass before Nicholas replies.

Nicholas 🦊: Yeah, I’m good. Busy, as always. Hope you’re doing okay, too.

You stare at the screen, debating for a moment before typing again.

You: Did he see it?

This time, Nicholas takes longer to respond. The little typing bubble appears, disappears, and then reappears. Finally, his message comes through.

Nicholas 🦊: Yeah.

Just one word, but it feels heavier than it should.

Nicholas 🦊: Didn’t say much. Just closed his phone and left the room.

Your heart clenches. Of course, Noah wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of a reaction. That wasn’t his style. But something about the fact that he left the room instead of brushing it off entirely… it makes your stomach twist.

You: Oh

Nicholas takes a moment before replying again.

Nicholas 🦊: Yeah...

You stare at the message, unsure how to feel. There’s a weight sitting in your chest, pressing down in a way you hate to admit. You weren’t expecting Noah to suddenly come running back, but a part of you wonders what’s going through his head right now.

Nicholas 🦊: Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and I’m not trying to get in the middle of it. But… I think he listened to it.

Your breath catches.

You: Did he say anything?

Nicholas 🦊: No. But I could tell. He just… sat there for a while. Didn’t even touch his guitar, which is weird for him.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, your heart hammering as you struggle to find the right words. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll finally listen. Maybe he’ll understand how all of this has been tearing you apart. Maybe he’ll see the errors of his ways, stop running from his feelings, and take life, take you, seriously.

You: Well...I hope he will finally take things seriously, then. Nicholas 🦊: You know I don’t want to get in the middle of anything, but... maybe he’s not as okay as he’s pretending to be.

Your heart skips a beat as you read the message, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Instead of replying, you set your phone on the nightstand, not trusting yourself to say the right thing. Instead, you distract yourself by scrolling through more comments, letting the noise of the internet drown out your thoughts.

Suddenly, your phone lights up, and a special ringtone starts to play. Noah is calling. Your heart races at the sight of his name flashing across the screen. The sound of the ringtone feels like it’s echoing in your ears, loud and sharp against the quiet of your room. You hesitate, fingers hovering over the screen, unsure if you should answer. Every part of you wants to ignore it, to continue pretending he doesn’t exist in your world anymore. But then again, a part of you can’t help but wonder... maybe this time, it will be different.

With a shaky breath, you swipe to answer.

“H-hello?” you ask quietly.

There’s a long, unsettling silence on the other end. You almost think he’s hung up.

“Hey…how are you?” His voice sounds softer than you remember, tentative, like he’s unsure how to approach you.

You swallow hard, the knot in your throat growing tighter.

“I’m… I’m fine,” you say, but even you can hear the lie in your voice.

Another pause. You can hear him shifting on the other end, like he’s trying to find the right words.

“I saw the song,” he says, his tone low, almost hesitant. “It’s good. Really good.”

You feel a cold chill run through you at the mention of the song. His words are like daggers, but not in the way you expect.

“Thank you. You’d be impressed. I wrote it last night and was able to get it all done and ready by the release.”

You can almost hear the pause on his end, like he’s trying to process your words.

“That’s… that’s impressive,” he responds slowly, but you can tell there’s something more behind his tone. “I didn’t expect you to drop something like that. It’s… powerful.”

His words should feel like they’re supposed to be a compliment, but they fall flat. His praise feels distant, and that familiar knot in your stomach tightens again.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice quieter now. “I needed to get it out.”

You glance at your phone, wondering if it would have been better to just let the silence linger. But then his next words come, and they hit harder than you expected.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about everything… about us. About how I messed up.”

“If that’s the case... Why are there so many pictures of you with random girls?”

The question hangs in the air like a weight between you two. His silence on the other end stretches long, almost unbearable, before he speaks again.

“I- look, I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s not like that,” Noah says, his voice strained. “You know I care about you, right?”

But it doesn’t sound convincing, and your frustration bubbles to the surface.

Noah’s breath catches on the other end, and for a moment, you wonder if he's going to hang up. Instead, he sighs heavily.

“I fucked up, okay? I know that,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “But this... I don’t know how to make it right with you. Every time I try, I screw it up worse.”

You want to respond, but the words seem to get stuck in your throat. You’re angry, hurt, confused- a whole mess of emotions you’ve been holding in for far too long.

“Why should I believe anything you say now?” you ask, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “You’ve hurt me too many times, Noah.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking.

You can hear the emotion in Noah’s voice, and it almost makes you want to soften. But then you remember everything, all the times he’s let you down, all the moments you’d hoped he would show up for you and didn’t.

“You’re sorry?” you repeat, your voice tight. “Sorry doesn’t fix everything, Noah. You can’t just say that and expect everything to be okay.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, and when he finally speaks, his voice is raw, almost pleading. “I know. I don’t expect it to be okay. But I need you to know... I’m trying. I really am. I just don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to fix myself... but I’m trying.”

The silence that follows feels heavier than before. Your heart aches, but you’re not sure if it’s because of him or the realization that you’ve been carrying this pain alone for so long.

“What do you want from me, Noah?” you whisper, barely able to keep the words from breaking.

“I…just please don’t hate me. That’s all I ask,” he says quietly.

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of everything you've been holding onto crashing down. The anger, the hurt, the betrayal; it all mingles with something else, something softer, something you don’t want to admit.

"I don't hate you, Noah," you say, your voice trembling, though you keep it steady. "I could never hate you. But I don't know how to just forget everything. It’s not that simple for me."

There’s a silence on the other end, the kind that feels heavy, like he's waiting for something more, something else you haven't said. You swallow hard, trying to find the right words.

"I care about you, Noah. I always have. But I need to be sure that when you say you're sorry, it means something. Not just words but actions. You know?"

You both sit in silence for a moment before he speaks again.

“I know,” he says quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “I’ve screwed up. I get it. I just… I don’t know how to make it right. I’ve been trying to figure that out, but I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forgive me for what I’ve done.”

You bite your lip, the pain of his words sinking deep. It’s not easy hearing him admit it, but at least he’s not running from the truth anymore.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you right now,” you reply softly. “But I’m not saying it’s impossible. I just… need time.”

“I’ll give you all the time you need,” he promises. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, a vulnerability you hadn’t heard from him in a long time.

“Thank you, Noah…” you murmur.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replies, his voice tinged with relief. “I should be the one thanking you for even listening. I just... I want to prove to you that I can be better. I know I haven’t shown you that, but I want to try.”

You let out a small, quiet breath, feeling a weight lift from your chest, though the hurt still lingers.

“I just don’t want to be disappointed again. I can’t keep doing this.”

“I get it,” he says quickly, his tone earnest. “I won’t make promises I can’t keep. Just... let me show you, in whatever way I can.”

You pause for a moment, thinking about everything that’s been said, the rawness of the conversation.

“Okay. We’ll see.”

With that, you hang up the phone and begin getting ready for bed. As you brush your teeth, his words echo in your mind, lingering longer than you’d like. You miss Noah more than you care to admit, but how many times can you go back before it becomes a mistake, before it feels like you’re the foolish one? How much more can you let yourself hope for change? After finishing your routine, you turn off the lights and crawl into bed, the weight of everything heavy on your chest. You close your eyes, trying to push aside the thoughts that linger, hoping your dreams will take you to a different reality, a place where things were simpler and the pain wasn’t so sharp.

#bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #noah sebastian davis #bad omens cult #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #badomenscult #bad omens x reader #badomens #noah bad omens #noah sebastian bad omens #noahsebastian #noah sebastian fic

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blakeswritingimagines · 7 hours ago

Text

Blow My Whistle, Baby

(Kink heacanon)

Quinn Hughes: Quinn groaned low in his throat, hips instinctively bucking into your hand as you worked his cock with skilled precision. His head fell back against the wall in the locker room, exposing the column of his neck. "Fuck.. Always know just how to get me going," he managed to gasp out between ragged breaths. He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding you closer to his straining erection. The promise of your lips and tongue on his sensitive flesh had him quivering with anticipation. "Been thinking about this nonstop, baby," he confessed huskily. "Dreamed about waking up with you on top of me, riding me till we both came undone." Arber's grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you onto his lap, aligning your mouth with his throbbing cock. "Now stop teasing and put that pretty mouth to work."

Jack Hughes: Jack and you were having a relaxed evening at home when you decided to turn up the heat. Sitting on the bed, beginning to kiss each other slowly and passionately, as your hands explored each other's bodies. Starting to undress each other slowly, taking in every moment of the experience. You then knelt down in front of him, looking up with a lustful expression as you began to tease him with your tongue. The pleasure you were giving him was immense, and he knew he was in for a treat. He groaned deeply as your talented tongue works its magic, his cock throbbing with need "Oh fuck… you're driving me wild already. I can't wait to taste more of you."

Luke Hughes: Catching him busy on his phone in bed was easy enough as you tugged his boxers down, freeing his semi-hard cock. You wrapped your hand around it, giving it a few slow strokes as you looked up at him through your lashes. "Mmm, looks like someone's eager for some attention," you spoke softly, leaning in to lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft. Your tongue swirled around the head, savoring the salty tang of his pre-cum before taking him into your mouth. You bobbed your head, sucking gently as you worked him deeper, your free hand massaging his balls. "You taste so good, Lukey," you moaned around his length, relishing the way he twitched and throbbed against your tongue. "Can't wait to feel you come undone."

Nico Hischier: With a sly grin, you hooked your fingers into Nico's hockey pants and tugged them down, exposing his hardening cock. You wrapped your hand around it, stroking him slowly from base to tip, savoring the heat and firmness. "Mmm, looks like someone's eager for some relief," you purred, leaning in to lap at the sensitive head with your tongue. Your eyes met his, dark with desire, as you took him deeper into your mouth, relishing the salty taste of his pre-cum. You bobbed your head, taking him further each time, until you had him all the way in, your nose pressed against his pubic bone. The vibrations of your moan sent ripples through him as you began to suck, your hand working in tandem to pleasure him while listening to him mumble out. "That's it, baby,"

Timo Meier: Timo was lying on the bed, his heart racing with excitement and anticipation. You with a mischievous glint in your eye, straddled him, your hands roaming over his chest as you leaned down to kiss him on the neck, having been teased and tormented by you ever since he left the arena with another loss under his belt. You smirked against Timo's skin, your fingers tracing patterns over his chest as you peppered kisses along his jawline. "Ah, still feeling that disappointment, sweetheart? Losing stinks, but it's nothing compared to what we can do to take the edge off." Your hand slipped lower, cupping his growing arousal through his pants. "I've got just the remedy for your post-game blues," you whispered huskily before claiming his lips in a deep, possessive kiss, your tongue delving into his mouth to taste him fully. "Let me show you how to forget about those losses…and focus on something much more pleasurable instead." You slowly moved down his body and in between his strong thighs.

Dawson Mercer: Dawson's breathing quickened as your skilled hands worked their magic on his throbbing erection. His hips instinctively bucked forward, seeking more of that delicious friction. "Fuck… y-yes, I've been wanting this all damn day," he admitted, his voice husky with desire. The sensation of those talented fingers encircling his shaft made his head spin. "I've been picturing you on your knees for me, worshipping my cock like only you can." Arber's hands found their way to the back of your head, tangling in your hair as he gently guided you closer to his lap. The heat of your mouth was just inches away now, and anticipation coiled tight in Dawson's belly. "Please, baby… suck me," he urged, his voice laced with need. A sultry smile played on your lips as you listened to Dawson's desperate pleas, the sound of his needy voice sending shivers down your spine. You looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, your gaze burning with lust as you slowly licked your lips in invitation.

John Marino: John's breath caught in his throat as your soft hands worked their magic on his straining erection. A shiver ran down his spine at the sight of you on your knees, sending a jolt of desire straight to his core. "Fuck, babe..you know just how to get under my skin," he groaned, his hips involuntarily bucking into your grasp. The sensation of your hot breath on his thighs only heightened his arousal, making him ache for more of your attention. John's fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging you closer as to give you better access. "I've thought about nothing else all damn day," he admitted huskily, his voice rough with need. "The way you suck me off is like a drug – once I get a taste, I'm hooked."

Kirby Dach: Kirby's breath caught in his throat as your skilled fingers worked their magic, coaxing his erection to full mast. The sensation of those warm hands wrapping around him was pure bliss, and he couldn't help but thrust slightly into the grip, seeking more friction. "Fuck, sweetheart…" he groaned, his voice low and husky with desire. "Always know just how to get me going, don't you?" Kirby's hips rolled lazily, giving himself over to the pleasure as you began to stroke him in earnest. Each glide of your hand sent sparks of heat shooting through his veins, making his head spin. "You have no idea how many times I thought about bending you over the kitchen counter today," Kirby admitted, his words punctuated by ragged pants as your touch pushed him closer to the edge. "Or fucking you against the wall during practice."

Juraj Slafkovsky: With a sultry smile playing on your lips, you released Juraj's straining cock and stood up, meeting his hungry gaze. "Patience, love," you purred, trailing a finger down his chest before pulling his hoodie up just enough, revealing the chiseled expanse of his torso. "I want to savor every inch of you first." Once Juraj's hoodie was off, you dipped your head to lavish attention on his nipples, swirling your tongue around the pebbled buds and nibbling gently. He let out a low moan, arching into your touch as you worked your way down his abdomen, pausing to kiss and nip at the sensitive skin. Finally, you reached the waistband of his sweatpants once more, pulling them down along with his boxers in one swift motion. Juraj's back arched sharply as your lips closed around his nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his aching cock. He threaded his fingers through your hair, holding you close as you teased and tormented his sensitive flesh. By the time you descend lower, his pants pooled at his ankles, leaving him bare and vulnerable before you. "Goddamn…" he gasped, his head falling back as you kissed a trail down his stomach. The anticipation was killing him, every nerve ending alight with need.

Arber Xhekaj: Arber Xhekaj was sitting on the couch watching TV when you walked into the room. He could tell from the look on your face that you were up to something. Without a word, you knelt down in front of him and started to tug his sweatpants down. He could feel his heart racing as you untied the drawstrings and reached inside. Your touch was gentle but firm, and he let out a soft moan as you started to stroke him. Knowing exactly how to touch him as he grew hard. "Mmm, I can see it in your eyes, Arb," you murmured, gazing up at him through thick lashes as you continued to fondle the growing bulge in your boyfriend's pants. "You're always so responsive to my touch. It's like your body knows exactly what it wants." Your fingers danced along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, teasing and stroking until they finally wrapped around the stiffening length of cock. You gave it a slow, deliberate squeeze, feeling it twitch against your palm. "Tell me, have you been thinking about this all day? About how good I'd make you feel if I got on my knees for you?" You leaned in closer, your warm breath tickling Arber's ear as he whispered, "Because I've been craving a taste of you since morning."

Cole Caufield: Cole groaned low in his throat as your fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock. The heat of your palm seeped into his flesh, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. His hips jerked reflexively, seeking more of that delicious friction. "Fuck, … y-yes, I've been thinking about it nonstop," he admitted, his voice strained with need. "About you on your knees, worshipping my cock… God, it drives me wild just imagining it." Cole tangled his hands in your hair, guiding your head closer to his straining erection. "Please… I need you to touch me, taste me," he pleaded, his breathing ragged. "Make me come undone, baby. I'm all yours."

Trevor Zegras: Going out with Trevor for drinks sounded like a good time, until you both had one too many and snuck off to the bar's bathroom. With deliberate slowness, your unzipped Trevor's pants, your eyes locked onto his as you revealed his hardening cock. A low hum of approval rumbled in your throat at the sight. You wrapped a hand around his thick shaft, giving it a firm stroke from base to tip. "Mmm, looks like someone's ready for action," you spoke in a teasing tone, leaning in to run your tongue along the sensitive underside. You took him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth as you began to suck him with enthusiastic fervor. Your free hand massaged his balls while you worked him over, eager to bring him to the brink and beyond. You looked up at Trevor, your gazes meeting in a heated stare, conveying without words the depth of your desire for him.

Jamie Drysdale: Jamie's breath caught in his throat as your skilled hands worked their magic on his aching erection. His hips instinctively bucked forward, seeking more of that delicious friction in the privacy of a restaurant bathroom. The husky timbre of your voice sent shivers down his spine, and he felt himself grow even harder in response to the provocative words. "I…fuck," he managed to gasp out, his grip tightening into fists against the stall. "Always, every damn time. You know just how to drive me wild." Jamie's head fell back with a groan, exposing the vulnerable column of his neck. He arched into your touch, silently begging for more. When your hot breath caressed his ear, he couldn't help but moan softly, his resolve crumbling under the onslaught of desire. "Please," he whimpered, his voice raw with need. "Oh, I'm going to please you so thoroughly, baby," you purred, nipping gently at the tender flesh of Jamie's neck before soothing it with your tongue. Your hand moved faster now, pumping his straining cock in a rhythm designed to push him over the edge. "I want to hear you come undone for me, Jamie. Want to taste that sweet release on my lips." With your free hand, you reached up to cup Jamie's chin, tilting his face toward yours. Your mouths met in a searing kiss, tongues tangling as you devoured each other's moans and whimpers. Breaking away for a moment, you gazed deep into those pleading blue eyes and whispered as you knelt down, "Give it to me, sweetheart. Let go and fill my mouth with everything you've been holding back."

Matt Rempe: Matt groaned softly, his hips involuntarily bucking into your hand as pleasure shot through him. "Fuck, baby…you know just how to get me going," he panted, tangling his fingers in your hair as he pulled you in for a deep, hungry kiss. When you broke apart, Matt's eyes were dark with lust, pupils blown wide. "I've thought about nothing else all day. Imagined waking up with you between my legs, sucking me off 'til I couldn't take it anymore." He reached down to help you pull his boxers the rest of the way off, then spread his thighs invitingly. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get that pretty mouth on my dick before I lose my mind." Matt's voice was low and rough with need, his cock standing at attention, flushed and leaking pre-cum.

#quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #nico hischier x reader #timo meier x reader #dawson mercer x reader #john marino x reader #kirby dach x reader #juraj slafkovsky x reader #arber xhekaj x reader #cole caufield x reader #trevor zegras x reader #jamie drysdale x reader #matt rempe x reader #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine

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rubyloops · 2 months ago

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IM SO DISTRAUGHT THEY KILLED CLIVE

#karl alberg #yet again #the wail of pain that wrought out of me…sorry to everyone living on my dorm floor #SLEEP WHILE I SING IS SO GOOD #all my free time is just me sitting around listening to it #i love how it’s taking the route of the audience not knowing who the killer is #but it also makes it difficult to stop listening to it!!#i love art teacher tommy cummings #please don’t have any murderous intent i love you and your artistic abilities #no spoilers !!!!!

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what-even-is-thiss · 8 months ago

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The reason people don’t want to work is that it’s just normal for them to be in bad work environments.

My issue with working at Walmart wasn’t the work itself I was doing. It was the circumstances around it. The concrete floor, lack of places to sit, having to put up with asshole customers, not getting time off for injuries, and bad pay.

If I had been given shock pads to stand on or a few chairs to rest on sometimes, if they paid me a livable amount of money and I was allowed to yell back at asshole customers, if they had given me any amount of training, I would happily work part time folding clothes all day and telling people where the swimsuit section is.

I’m a creative type. I’m a writer. I’m pretty smart, even. But if I could make a living folding shirts and listening to podcasts in one ear and helping people find the scented candles for 30 hours a week? I would. Leaves some mental space free for me to brainstorm. Lets me catch up on my reading with audiobooks.

But instead I was treated so badly by upper management and customers that I’m like legitimately a little frightened whenever I step into a Walmart now. And I only worked there for three months a few years ago.

I’m a good lower level worker. When I’m treated well. I like finishing tasks. I like being helpful. I like having some time to talk to coworkers and some time alone with my thoughts. I’m a frickin team player. And that’s how I was at my first job. I was treated well by my supervisor. I was trained. They were patient with me. I was so good at being low on the totem pole at that job because I was valued and felt like I was being listened to. I was able to sit still when there was nothing left to do which made it feel less bad when we were on a time crunch. I didn’t mind working hard at that job because it was fun even though I was doing all the low level stuff that the supervisors didn’t want do.

But at Walmart I was like that for all of two days. Then I figured out that nobody appreciated my work and if I worked in my normal people pleasing manner I’d kill myself because their standards were high and the rewards for meeting them were low.

So I slowed down. I started avoiding customers. I started taking a lot longer to get to my breaks and to come back from them. I became worse at my job because no matter how good I was at it there would be no reward, no appreciation, and I’d just be pushed further beyond my limits.

My only level of happiness from that job came from the people who were working with me. The old ladies and my department manager who made sure I wasn’t overextending myself. The one other young man working in the clothing department who always got sent with me to unload the heavy stuff and commiserated with me about the shoulder injuries, the hurting feet we were too young to have.

But none of that was enough to make me stay. We were constantly understaffed. I was constantly abused by customers and not able to do a thing about it. I was not paid much at all. So as soon as I had enough saved up for what I was trying to do and my last semester of college was about to start I handed in my two weeks.

I would have found a way to stay if I liked that job. If I liked that job I would’ve pushed myself to my mental limits to finish college and keep that job at the same time. Heck that job could’ve been a rest from college. A place to get away from it. But I hate that job so I got out as soon as I could.

I want to work. I want enough money to live sort of comfortably. I want to have some tasks to do to give my creativity a rest. I want to be a part of something. But the way that modern corporate run work environments are set up does not give me any of the things I actually want out of a job. And I think that’s the same for millions of people right now. A lot of people would happily spend their lives as a waitress or an Uber driver or a warehouse worker or a farmhand or any other “low skill” job you can possibly think of. But with the way the world works right now those jobs are absolutely miserable. It doesn’t have to be that way. I know because I’ve had a fulfilling part time minimum wage job that I looked forward to going to every week. A job where I was listened to and allowed to sit when I needed to. I miss that job. Especially now since I’ve realized that’s not the standard. It should be. People should look forward to going to work or at the very least not get mild ptsd whenever they set foot into a Walmart.

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lesbian-not-american27 · 1 year ago

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Ok but you have to include the full clip though

The guys name is Paul Parker and he’s literally my hero

youtube

The clip is funny ofc, he literally tells sco mo to square up, but it’s also heartbreaking to see how run down and exhausted he is- how all our volunteers were- during black summer. My parents are both full time rfs members and I’m nearly of age to become an offical member myself, and I can’t begin to describe how run ragged they are every bush fire season, let alone 2019-20. My dad’s birthday was just a few days ago and while we were sitting in our living room cutting the pavlova he was still on call with the radios by his side. Our emergency service workers- the rfs, the ses, paramedics and support services and so many more- are overworked and underpaid and constantly let down by our government, and good old Scotty from marketing is a prime fucking example.

Fuck Scott Morrison, support your local brigades.

I just spent some time scrolling through this blog and am suffering from sever laughter. Thanks so much for collating the countries craziest moments. One of my favourites is when Scott Morrison was in Hawaii while the bushfires where burning.

December 2019: As Australia's east coast is engulfed in the worst bushfires in living memory, rumours begin to circulate that Australia's Prime Minister Scott Morrison may have secretly fucked off for a holiday in Hawaii.

Keep in mind, this is what is going down in Australia at the time:

The Hawaii rumour is initially written off as a fringe conspiracy, because surely nobody could be that fuckin tonedeaf, and it was quickly forgotten about... until an Australian man visiting Hawaii UPLOADED A SELFIE ON THE BEACH WITH THE PM THROWING A SHAKA.

At which point all hell broke loose.

Overnight the formerly popular "Scomo" became the most despised man in all of Australia. Think "firefighters shouting out of their windows to news cameras" level of despised.

After about two days of radio silence and pretending like he was still at home running the country, the Prime Minister's handlers finally dragged him onto call with an Australian radio station, where he pinky promised to return to Australia as fast as he could in an attempt to calm things down.

Unfortunately Scott's empathy consultant (a real job) then had to watch Scott pour more gasoline on the dumpster fire by uttering the now famous phrase "Look I don't hold a hose mate" when asked by the radio interviewer why the fucking fuck the fuckhead wasn't fucking in Australia doing his fucking job during a massive fucking crisis.

Testing just how much worse things could get, Scomo then proceeded to NOT rush back to Australia as promised, instead attempting to complete the rest of his holiday, a fact that was exposed when a passerby snapped a picture of him still lounging on the beach two days later.

Eventually, holiday complete, Morrison did reluctantly slink back to Australia, and in an attempt to calm things down, he decided to pay a visit to a small town that had been destroyed by the fires.

Which was a big mistake.

Scomo still had not registered how absolutely and totally he had screwed the poodle with his Hawaiian beach vacation, and he walks into what is now taught in PR classes as one of the greatest examples of "what not do do in a crisis" in all of history.

Scotty from Marketing, as he is now dubbed by the nation, spends a painfully cringe-inducing hour wandering around a burned down town with TV news cameras in tow, having to FORCE PEOPLE TO SHAKE HIS HAND in what is some of the most awkward footage you will ever see.

At this point it's probably also worth mentioning that, before becoming Prime Minister, Scott Morrison's biggest claim to fame in politics was being the guy that was so far up the coal lobby's arse that he literally brought coal into parliament and waved it around, claiming it doesn't hurt people.

So when a protest was organised it turned out to be one big national fuck you to the Prime Minister, the likes of which the world has never seen before or since.

Needless to say, at this point Scomo's career was dead in the water, but thanks to the rules brought in to stop Australian political parties from knifing their leader every two weeks (a popular Aussie passtime) Morrison basically couldn't get fired until after the next election.

And so, when the election rolled around in 2022, we decided that was an opportune time to travel over to Hawaii to erect this bad boy tribute to the Prime Minister, on the very beach where Scomo had sat and drank margaritas that one fateful week in December as Australia burned (thanks to @chaser for funding the ticket)

#sorry I’m really passionate about this #all the time I sit with and listen to my parents- mostly my mum- talk about how they’re overworked and being fucked over #how her bosses are laying off part timers working communications to ‘open spots for full time workers’ who aren’t there #and how they missed their yearly pay rise at the end of 2020 because corporate just ‘couldn’t afford it’#meanwhile the tops got another pay rise that was literally about the amount she makes in a year #and they apparently upped the pay rise a little the next year but that doesn’t make a fucking difference because it means they’re all #getting less money over the course of their whole CAREERS because it’s supposed to be compounding #and I’m just so sick of everyone being fucked over like this and listening to my mum talk about how tight money is #and I’m lucky for it not to be so tight as to be noticeable- in terms of what we buy for food or the opportunities I get to have as a scout #since we don’t usually just buy things whenever- though around this time of year we’re obviously spending a lot more than usual #but I just know that most people in emergency services #these people doing really dangerous and easily potentially traumatising jobs #are not being adequately cared for and looked after by our government #I’m just so fucking sick of it all the time #the overtime and the years of missing Christmas and birthdays because the people in power won’t listen to the experts warnings #and won’t fund for the proper staffing to keep staff from undue fatigue and stress #and I know it’s harder than them than it is on me- a lot fucking harder #I mean- missing chirstmas day isn’t that big a deal #it’s happened often enough over the years and we always celebrate it on another day anyway who cares about the specifics #and birthdays are fine- a couple presides in the morning before school and work and out for something fun when we have a free day #but I know they feel so guilty for missing these things #because it’s so important to them and they can’t be there #all this stuff is mostly my mum- she’s a shift worker and she has to drive like two hours to get to work everyday and then two hours back #my dad works closer to home and mostly in infrastructure and such so it’s not as demanding for him #but even so he still has so much overtime this time of year #and because of the way he works half the time when he’s not at work he’s on call to respond to incidents #anyway I’m ranting when I should be sleeping #sorry #entirely forgot this was about sco mos incompetence anyway get fucked Scotty #Youtube

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hurtspideyparker · 7 months ago

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If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2

Read Part 1 and Part 3

Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?

Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore

Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house

Tony: Hm. Makes sense

Vision cooked dinner:

Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*

Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*

Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*

Bucky: *just stares at full plate*

Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza

Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl

Bucky: Ok.

Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-

Bucky: Give me your phone

Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*

Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)

Sam: BOY-

Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-

Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*

Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you

Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him

Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert

Tony: Um, why?

Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !

Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.

Peter:

Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...

Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together

Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera

Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond

Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind

Bucky: Wanna go for a run?

Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*

*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*

Bucky: Dishwasher?

Peter: Dishwasher :)

(later that day)

Bucky: I've decided to let the child live

Peter: YoU wHaT?!

Thwip

Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here

Thwip

Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it

Thwip

Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago

*giggling from the ceiling*

Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality

Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!

Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?

Peter: Sor- OOF

*falls out of ceiling vent*

Sam: You're in my spot

Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area

Sam: Well that's my spot

Bucky: Did you buy the chair??

Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?

Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*

Sam: Still my spot

Bucky: Still not

Sam: *sits on him*

Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-

Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-

BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-

(one hour later)

Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...

Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*

Steve: I think I left something in my car

Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there

Wanda: UGH you're so protective

Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him

Steve:

Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want

Wanda: Really?

Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book

Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?

Bucky: *glaring*

Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -

Natasha: Yes it's PMS

Wanda: He's got it bad

Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?

Bucky:

Bucky: I like chocolate

Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time

Pepper: Why is Vision here?

Wanda: I get sad when he's gone

Natasha: Why is Pietro here?

Pietro: Slay queens

Wanda: Moral support I think

Maria: Why is Peter here?

Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad

Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?

Peter: ME ME ME

Steve: Pancakes or waffles?

Natasha: Pancakes

Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker

Natasha: Then why would you ask-

Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion

*2 minutes later*

Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?

Clint: Waffles

Steve: Oh no.

Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !

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sleepy-little-stars · 7 days ago

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andy speaks: a very self-indulgent fic 😞 as a humanities girlie, I just rlly want my silly nerdy stem bf ☹️ hot nerdy stem bf pls pls pls come my way 🙏 zayne will have his version of this too!! bcuz muehehe why have one stem bf when u can have two. TWO?! 😻 n poseidon raf is in the drafts 🙂‍↕️

stem bf!caleb who’s such a nerd trapped in a hot guy’s body, it drives you insane. he could be standing in front of you looking all hot with that pilot uniform of his but the moment he opens his mouth? you just wanna jump him there and then.

“how much do you love me?” caleb hums in response to your question. he has his arms around you, swaying the both of you ever so slightly from side to side.

“honestly? like about 9.8 meters per second squared. in other words, gravity is pulling me towards you.” he grins before leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“could’ve just said you love me to the moon and back.”

“flowery words are your thing, sweets. not mine.”

stem!bf caleb who invites you for a date night at his dorm.

you show up with snacks and a list of movies you want to watch with him, such as barbie because you are going to sit him down and explain how barbie is one of the best movies of the century and the message it conveys to women and little girls around the world— wait.. why is he surrounded with legos?

“what’s with the legos?”

“it’s not just legos, pip. it’s the 7,500 pieces millenium falcon. come on, help me with it.” he pulled you down beside him on the carpet, your legs deposited on top of his lap and an arm enclosing you to his chest.

“so, you invited me here to make me do labor.” you grumbled seemingly annoyed yet the hand reaching out for the building manual says otherwise. caleb merely chuckles at your faux demise, pecking your temple. “don’t worry. we can watch barbie as we build. and.. we’ll do a powerpoint night tomorrow. deal?”

“deal.” and so you spent the entire night wrestling with tiny building blocks to help complete his beloved spaceship.

stem bf!caleb who keeps every paper plane you give him. when unfolded, the paper is filled with your words of love dedicated to him.

stem!bf caleb who is your very own human calculator. you always bring him with you during grocery runs so you can easily keep track of the total as you shop.

“caleb, add this.”

“bread is $2.49.. your current total is now $11.27.”

“thanks, babe. now, let’s go get chips.”

stem!bf caleb who watches all your favorite films or shows in his free times. he remembers all the times you mentioned them in passing.

“since when did you watch girl, interrupted?”

“last night. you were talking about it the other day and i didn’t really know how to respond so i watched it. now, tell me all about lisa again. her character was really something— ah!” he got cut off by you throwing your arms around him and peppering his face with kisses.

stem bf! caleb who yaps about science theories during cuddle time. your head is on his chest, his arms tight around you.

“time slows down when the gravity increases. that’s what you call gravitational time dilation. like, imagine you’re on top of a very high mountain. time would pass faster for you than for someone at sea level because the gravity is weaker the farther you are from the center— babe?” caleb looks down, lips quirked upon seeing you dozed off. he pinches your nose, earning a sleepy whine from you. “stop.”

“you promised to listen to me talk. are you breaking promises now, pip?” caleb leans closer to bite at your cheek, grinning widely when you push his face away. “i’ll let you yap later. nap comes first.”

“is that a promise?”

“yes.”

“okay. i love you.”

“.. love you too.”

“good night.”

“hm.”

“you know, einstein’s theory of relativity—”

“sleep, caleb.”

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screampied · 1 year ago

Note

Begging screaming crying scratching at the walls of my enclosure like a rabid beast for more pussy slapping

❛ GIMME GIMME MORE! ❜

ꕥ : ft. gojo, toji, geto, nanami.

synopsis. asking the jujutsu kaisen men to slap it.

tags. fem! reader, pussy-slapping, impact play, degradation, squirt mentions, praise, unprotected sex, overstim, spit. wc. 2.1k

☆ FUSHIGURO TOJI.

“oh, want me to do what…?” he’d grouse, you’re leaned up against his back—your legs pried apart, and the scenery was candidly messy. it was almost silly the way your eyes were stupidly rolling back, you’re entirely dumb as you tried to ask him a simple honest question. “remember what i told ya about mumblin', pretty girl.”

your legs writhe a bit from the stimulation, the way he was manoeuvring his thick fingers against your pussy, so pitifully wet…

you heard how drenched and soaked you were before you whined, “s-smack it toji, please.”

“smack what?” he utters, a free hand gripping underneath your thigh. you moaned once you felt him run his middle finger down the inner part of your clit. “want me to smack your pussy?” you’d nod against his chest desperately as a response and he chuckles. “yeah yeah. bet you do,” and his voice dropped an octave throughout each sexy. it had no reason being that attractive—you kept feeling yourself pulse from him circling digits around your cunt before grinning. “okay, if that’s what ya want. now open these legs, ‘n hold still.”

gradually, you open your legs for toji just a bit more whilst your nails make it’s job to dig into the skin of his thigh. “perfect,” he husks, and your head just rubs against his bare chest. “guessin' ya want me to hit it little sof—”

“jus’ f-fuckin' do it, toji.” you’d whimper out of frustration—your voice comes out a tad more whiney then you intended and he just snickers.

“don’t rush me to spank y’er sloppy pussy, whore. i’ll take my damn time, ‘n you’ll sit patient until i’m ready,” and you’re briefly stunned for a moment once he brings a rough smack towards your clit. “listen to how soaked this shit is. shame.”

“to—”

“ah ah, no talkin’, let her speak,” toji murmurs in a rough voice, gravelly and deeply rich with baritone. the way he addressed your pussy as her. you lean into his touch once he brings a hand over your mouth, and the very palm of his hand gets met with your slick saliva. “ooooh. look at how much wetter y’er pussy gets each time i—spank,” and each hit your cunt twitches. “yeah, ‘s it. take it so well, look at that.”

you gnaw into your cheek, lashes fluttering beneath you until you feel toji’s fingers slither its way into your mouth. “…yeah,” he mumbles, and your pussy’s met with more and spanks, the sting made your ears ring and spiral. “aw, ya gonna cum from this aren’tcha, girl? this all it takes?”

it felt so good, the way your mouth grew dry, his dirty talk right up against your ear. the bass in his voice—toji’s smooth with his words, suave even.

suave but nasty.

“fuckin' give it to me to then,” he grunts, and you gasp, feeling him use his entire wrist, the way he moves his fingers against your pussy. your head’s just idly tapping and tapping against his chest as he’s now got two fingers shoved inside. smack after smack, you never wanted it to end. “lemme see how messy you can get just from a few pussy slaps, doll.”

☆ GOJO SATORU.

“not this again,” gojo playfully sulks, he’d just got done from rearranging your insides—you’re all dumbly wide eyed, mouth still open, panting. he just got down stuffing you full of his broad, thick set inches. such a mess, his own cum was just languidly oozing out of your cunt. “spank here? baby, you say this everyti-”

“please….satoru,” you’d pout, and even that gesture doesn’t do anything. he just smiles, swiping a tongue against his lips before moving his eyes down towards your pulsating clit. “just a few times. feels good when you do it.”

jocularly, he raises a thin brow.

“…yeah?” and he purposely leans up close, you shudder from the moment you feel him smack the fat tip of his dick between your folds—you only pouted more, because you wanted his hands, not that. “well, if it feels so good, why can’t ya do it yourself? you’re a big girl. you know good ‘n well how to please yourself, no?”

“s-satoruuu.” you entreated, feeling the steaming heat pool up between your legs.

“oh okay, fineeee,” he mocks your exact tone, and your lip quivers as you brace yourself—you part your legs open just a bit, and he smiles knowing he doesn’t have to do that. you let off a soft mewl once without warning he brings a hard smack against your soaked pussy, then another, then another. “aw, look at the way your cute tits bounce each time i smack it.”

and he was right, each hit he gave against your clit, you’d cutely jerk against the bed, making your entire body move, including your breasts.

“wow, maybe i should spank ya here more often,” he murmurs in a sly, low voice. the way he’d pitch his tone just to talk dirty to you made you ten times wetter. your nerves, you felt them throb inside you as you laid back against the silk sheets. “the noises you make too, ‘s kinky,” he giggles, taking a second to caress your pussy before smacking it again. “mhm, that spot, yeah? so damp for me. nasty ‘n wet, allll for the honored one.”

“f-fuck.” you’d drag out, panting heavily. gojo’s eyes remain on you the entire time—you’re having a staring contest with the wall, dry wall to be specific. hit after hit after hit, you tried counting the spanks but…oh, it was pointless. “i think ‘m gonna cum a-again.”

he studies your clit, smearing your own glistening slick against your folds before softly blowing against it to watch you move and squirm even more.

“god, you’re such a fuckin’ soaker, aren’t ya?” and he smacks it again, a good reasonable pace. your head goes back against the plump pillow and that’s when your back started to arch. “tell me how wet you are.”

“i-i’m wet, jus’ for you, ‘toru.” you whimpered, moans after moans just effortlessly coaxing out of you—as if it was nothing.

“yeah you fuckin’ are. now let’s test out that cute little squirt velocity while i’m at it, hm?”

☆ NANAMI KENTO.

“yes, my love,” he’d utter in a soft hushed tone, you had just got done riding him—overly sensitive still, he’s buried all inside you with your arms being thrown around his shoulders. “what do you want? i can tell when you want something.”

“i—” you started, suddenly growing too embarrassed to ask. would he do it? nanami was so sweet during sex, you were the upmost sure. you’d always fantasize about him spanking your pussy. the thought of him giving you a weird look or him finding it the slightest bit of strange.

his fingers gently trail against your waist, and he gives you a warm smile.

“um,” you started, wriggling your hips just against him before he softly pressed his thumbs on both sides of your hips. “it’s…promise you won’t find it weird?”

he chuckles, “i promise, hon. now tell me what is it that you want from me.”

you huff out a sigh, before getting off of him, taking a few seconds to speak before you grab his hand. your fingers brushed against the cold band of his inordinately pricey watch. “i want…” you trailed, and he watched as you drag his hand further down until its right between your legs. “i want you to slap h-here.”

“…oh,” nanami says with a coy smile. “this is what has you all shy? darling….sweetheart,” he coos, his voice gets seductively low and you felt yourself throb before he lies you down on your back. “but, why of course, anything to please the pretty girl, i suppose.”

nanami’s so gentle and tender with his touch, he makes sure to caress your pussy with his palm before even thinking about spanking it—you grab onto his free unoccupied wrist once the first slap against your cunt approaches you.

almost forthwith, you moan from the feeling of immense pleasure, he views the way your body reacts. the way your hips easily thrusts forward, and you’re soaking.

“was that too hard, sweetheart?” he whispers, making sure to caress and gently pat your folds soothingly. “i know you’re enjoyin' this but as your husband, i just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

“i’m fine, h-harder, kento.” you panted, sliding a tongue against your lips in utter desperation. it felt so good, especially whenever he softly maneuvered sweet circles against your pussy as an attempt to gentle caress the after sting.

he smiles with a firm shake of his head. “my oh my, never knew you were this kinky, my love,” and he happily complies. each spank has you going feral, your legs could barely hold themselves open but like the gentleman nanami was — he held them open for you.

“nice ‘n wet for me, good girl. just relax and let me give your precious spot the attention you want,” he’d mumble in a soft, gruff tone. the noises were so lewd and messy, the sounds of your own pussy squelching continuously, just filthy. after a while, nanami starts to slow down a bit once he knows you’re approaching your peak. “aw, that look you’re giving me,” he says, gently rubbing his palm against your slick before giving it a final spank. “it’s okay, i know. i know. you’re gonna make a mess on my hand?”

you nod and he hums. “yeah? good, now just relax, ‘n give it to your husband,” he whispers, leaning in to give your pussy a soft kiss. “let go just for me and only me, good girl.”

☆ SUGURU GETŌ.

he’d be in the middle of eating you out when you ask him—you’d simply give his hair a light tug, and his darkened pupils give you an almost intimidating glare.

“suguru...” you’d mumble, and he was so messy, your sweet slick running all the way down his chin, he takes a second to lick the sweetness from his lips before rubbing them together.

“yes, baby. i was in the middle of eating until you interrupted me.” he mutters, sassy attitude in his tone, he looked so pretty between your legs.

you swallowed, getting a bit comfortable in your position, releasing your fingers from his hair before mumbling. “um, i wanted you to do that thing you did last time.”

“girl you’re gonna have to be specific,” he grumbles, a bit irked that you pulled him off, whenever geto ate you out he didn’t like to be cut off so abruptly. “do what thing?”

“spank my um...pussy.” you drag out.

geto lowly chuckles, soft dimples pressing against the corners of his lips. “that?” you felt yourself heat up before he leans up close between your legs.

“fine fine, sure thing baby. anything you want.” and you stare down at him, he was lazy enough to keep your panties on, just sleazily shoving the middle string aside.

“you better watch me do it since you interrupted me,” he utters in a low voice, and you throb at how close he is, warm breath just softly brushing against your pussy. “tie my hair up for me again while you’re at it, girl,” he whispers. you do, grabbing a good amount of his hair, tying it up for him. “thank you baby.”

you shriek out a moan once he gives you the first smack against your cunt, then slides his tongue against your inner folds—giving it a big suck before he delivers the next smack.

“f-fuck, s-spit on it too, please..”

“you’re bossy today, huh,” he utters in a deep voice, the soft padded tip of his nose prods against your nub before he gathers a wad before geto spats right on your pussy only to lap it right up with his tongue. “eyes on me, say it.”

“e-eyes on you, sugu…”

you moaned, feeling yourself twitch from the stimulation. you watch as he slowly licks your pussy, getting a good enough taste, savoring it before smacking it again. geto rubbed it for a brief seconds before doing it again and again, a constant loop.

he smiles, nose deep practically—your legs were just about to give out before you end up squirting. geto chuckles, clicking his tongue in amusement before leaning up, a hand still between your legs.

you whine once he gives your pussy a playful squeeze, he was always so good with his hands.

“you messy girl,” he slyly says before grabbing your chin softly, staring right into your eyes. he squeezes your lips together before sneaking a kiss—only to pull away with a striking gaze. “now stick out your tongue. i want you to taste your mess.”

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thesuperiorrobin · 28 days ago

Text

Safe space~

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!Crush!Reader

Warnings: none

Damian needed to get out of the house.

Immediately.

Somehow, everybody seemed to be pushing his buttons just right, from the way Jason would just come in unannounced and eat the food while chewing loudly, Dick trying to invade his personal space while completely yelling in his ear, and when Tim would enter a room he was in he would get this annoyed and ticked off feeling that just had him puffing and glaring at the tired man. He needed to leave the manor or else the entire building would be ashes on the ground in the next ten minutes. Bruce was nowhere to be seen and Alfred was doing his own little thing in the kitchen, probably feeding a very hungry Jason.

Damian hides himself in a black car that belonged to his father, a nice old Aston Martin DBS and as he sits in the driver's seat with his phone in his hands he can only stare at the screen, thumbs typing away.

Damian: are you awake?

His eyes glance up at the time on his phone, reading 10:37 pm. He hopes you’re awake, considering it’s a school night after all. He waits for a response, three minutes go by and his phone vibrates in his hands.

You: yeah was literally about to go to bed and rote until 3 am.

You: why? Wanna play Roblox?

You: see I told you it wasn’t so bad. Now I got you addicted 🙄🤚

Damian rolls his eyes at his screencast shaking his head as he starts to type. On your side of the screen, you can see the bubble disappear and appear, for a solid minute before he finally sends the message.

Damian: if you are not busy, I would like for you to accompany me.

You: YAY ROADTRIP😩

You: where we going?

You: also I’m like broke .38 cents isn’t really going get me anything.

Damian: Anywhere. I just need to get out of the house to take a breather and don’t worry about it, whatever you need I’ll get it for you.

You: you okay? Did something happen?

Damian: No. Just be ready when I get there.

You: okay😑

He really hates that stupid emoji.

You’re running out the door when you get the ‘I’m here’ message from him and Damian watches as you almost miss a step and trip over your own feet. You make it into his car in one piece and buckle yourself in.

Damian can see that you were getting ready to lay in bed, entering his car with your hair out of your face, all cozied up with warm black pants that had kuromis imprinted all over, and a black zip-up sweater that’s keeping you warm.

“Helloooo~” you breathe out, placing your tote bag on your lap as you glance at Damian “So where we going?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah….but I wanna skip the meal and go straight for the dessert!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah” you shrug “we got free will, why not use it”

This is where you were now, in the car as your choice of music plays softly, after Damian so kindly gave you the Aux after complaining about his music taste for a solid minute. Your seat is, moved back giving you room to get comfortable as you face Damian with your leg bent over the other.

You seem to be yapping away with the milkshake in hand as you wave it around slightly and he listens, eating away at his ice cream cone as he watches your every move.

Damian feels at ease, relaxing up against his seat as he glances at you—eyeing every feature on your face. From every eyelash to every acne scar to every birthmark to the smile lines that grace your face. He’s memorized them by now. You feel his eyes on you, and as you glance up to stare up at him he looks away shyly.

Clearly out of character for him.

“Is there something on my face?” you question as your arms reach out to pull down the car's visor, seeing as it had a little mirror to look at with little lights to see in the dark “Do I have whipped cream on me?”

“No… just thinking” he breathes out, eyes fixed out ahead of him.

You hum, eyes never leaving the visor as you answer back “Does that have anything to do with why you wanted to get out of the house tonight?”

He doesn’t answer instead, he takes a glance back at you. You’re staring back at him with a questionable look, visor now put back up. He takes a look at your hand, fingernails shining in the moonlight.

“Did you get your nails done?” He’s quick with the topic change, seeing as you glance down to show him but you retreat your hand back with a glare.

“Don’t change the subject!”

It takes hums a moment to answer before sighing “It was nothing serious….every little thing my brothers did irritate me”

“Ah…sibling irritation” you let out a breathy laugh “I get it, your brothers can be a handful sometimes”

At least you get him, others really wouldn’t, and his father sometimes doesn’t. It’s not like he had any siblings growing up anyway. Sometimes people would disagree with him, but you seem to agree with everything he says even if he’s wrong, which is rare, but you still do anyway.

Sooner or later the conversation seems to shift from a different topic to another different topic—and it seems like the cycle continues for hours.

He likes this.

You aren’t loud, you aren’t slurping away at your drink and your presence doesn’t seem to annoy him at all.

Yeah, he enjoys your presence more than anyone he knows.

and as he finishes the last of his ice cream he clutches his head, groaning as he hears you laugh.

“Brain freeze dumbass”

He starts to laugh too, and now the car is filled with your giggles and his breathy laughs.

Yeah…. You’re his little safe space and he’ll do anything to protect it.

Was literally supposed to post something for Valentine’s Day but I ended up getting the flu plus strep throat and an ear infection all at once so I couldn’t write it 😕.

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian x reader #robin x reader #damian scenarios

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flwrstqr · 1 month ago

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【備考】 STUCK WITH U ⟡ GIRLFRIEND PRIVILEGES ───𝖣𝒾𝖠𝖱𝖨𝖤𝖲 ㅤ. . 𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎

SCR𝓲PT : enhypen and their girlfriend privileges 1OOOwc. ˊᯅˋ fluff head canon ❜ fem!centered && skinship, petnames . . ARCHiVE&CLICK

다니 : i love stuck with u.. it's been my top listened song for the past month. i think i'm addicted to ariana grande TT listening to ari's music & writing = my life

LEE HEESEUNG

"no." heeseung deadpans, effortlessly shutting down jake’s request to borrow one of his hoodies. sunghoon tries next, but heeseung doesn’t even let him finish his sentence before shaking his head. “absolutely not.” the boys groan, grumbling about how selfish he is, but then you come along, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes, and suddenly, he’s a goner. “baby,” he hums, already tugging off the hoodie he’s wearing, “you cold?” he drapes it over your shoulders before you can answer, hands lingering on your waist as he leans in, voice dropping. “looks better on you anyway.” “if you want more, just say the word, love. i’ll empty my whole closet for you.” heeseung smiles. then he smirks, tilting your chin up. “told you,” he muses, thumb brushing your bottom lip, “only my pretty girl gets this privilege.”

PARK JAY

jay doesn’t think twice about it—his card is already out before you can even reach for your wallet. “babe, i got it,” he says, tone final, as he taps to pay for your meal like it’s second nature. he barely ever does this for his members, maybe on their birthdays if they beg, but for you? every time. whether it’s coffee, late-night takeout, or a whole shopping spree, jay never lets you spend a single cent when he’s around. “but jay—” you start to protest, only for him to shoot you a look before casually slipping his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. “don’t ‘but jay’ me,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “just let me take care of you, okay?” and how could you say no when he’s looking at you like that—like spoiling you is the easiest, most natural thing in the world?

SIM JAKE

jake's phone is always on do-not-disturb or muting conversations—except for you. no matter where he is, what he's doing, or who he's with, the moment your name flashes on his screen, he’s answering. even if it’s three in the morning, voice thick with sleep. “baby?” he murmurs, and you hear the rustling of sheets as he sits up, already alert. “what’s wrong? you okay?” his voice is laced with concern, but there’s something else—something soft, like he’d wait all night just to hear you breathe. you don’t even have to say much; the second you sigh, he’s whispering, “i got you, sweetheart. just talk to me.” his hand instinctively reaches for where you’d usually be beside him, but when he finds nothing, he groans, already pulling on a hoodie. “stay there. i’m coming.” because when it comes to you, nothing—not time, not sleep,—gets in the way.

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon never lets anyone touch his closet—not even his members. but you? you get free pass, standing in front of his neatly arranged wardrobe as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with that soft, amused smile. “baby, not the leather pants,” he groans, watching as you hold them up with a mischievous grin. “they look so good on you, though,” you tease, stepping closer, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, adjusting the collar of his shirt. he exhales, defeated, letting you fix his hair next, his sharp eyes softening under your touch. “you really like dressing me up, huh?” he mutters, but he’s already slipping into the fit you picked. when he turns to the mirror, he huffs a small laugh. “okay, fine. you have good taste.” then, quieter, as he tugs you against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead—“but only you get to do this, got it?”

KIM SUNOO

you’re the only one who gets to take sunoo's phone without asking, stretching out on his bed while you tap away at some game or fill his gallery with blurry selfies. “baby, at least make them cute if you’re stealing my storage,” he whines, but there’s no real complaint in his voice, just fond exasperation. when you glance at him, pouting, he sighs and moves closer, gently pulling you into his arms. “here, let me help,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm as he watches you play. and even though he’d usually never let anyone touch his screen, he doesn’t even blink when you scroll through his messages like it’s yours. because, well—so is he.

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon sits at his desk, brows furrowed, fingers flying over his keyboard, deep in concentration. anyone else would know better than to interrupt him, butyou have privileges. without hesitation, you step behind him, draping your arms over his shoulders before pressing a soft kiss to his temple. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even pause, just hums in acknowledgment as you pepper kisses along his jaw, his cheek, the slope of his nose. “missed me today, didn't you?” he murmurs, voice laced with amusement, but he tilts his head ever so slightly, giving you more access. you giggle, cupping his face and pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. “hmm maybe,” you tease, and he finally turns his head, letting his lips brush against your cheek. “only because your my pretty princess,” he says.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki never lets anyone touch his hair—never. he dodges, swats hands away, glares if someone even tries. but right now, he’s sitting on the floor in front of you, his head resting against your knees as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his soft strands, twisting and braiding as a tv show plays in the background. he doesn’t say a word, just hums lightly, his body relaxed like he was made to be here, like your hands in his hair are the most natural thing in the world. when he turns his head, his lips brush against your fingers in a lazy attempt at a kiss, and you gasp. “ack—stop moving, riki! i was trying to braid your hair!” you huff, tugging a little. he only grins, eyes half-lidded as he tilts his head back into your hands. “then don’t stop,” he murmurs, voice teasing. and god, he’s so down bad, because if it’s you, he’d let you do this forever.

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enhard · 1 month ago

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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚ ✩

sim jaeyun — “use me” (MDNI)

(wrote this just thinking how jake has pretty veiny hands to match his big veiny cock ♡︎)

pairing: bf!s.jy x fem!reader

: you’re pissed at your boyfriend for ignoring you but luckily he knows the best way to help you calm down… using his fingers of course ! but that’s not all

cw: smut, fingering, hand kink, size kink, riding, cockwarming, creampie, squirting, lots of stretching out, pet names, praising, fucking while on call with others, jake is just packing ughh </33

You love your boyfriend, obviously, but you started hating how he spent more time playing with his friends rather than hanging out with you.

Every time he had free time you’d ask him to sleep over at his and he accepted whenever you would ask. However… he would spend his time clicking away at his computer screen, his pretty fingers moving along the keyboard keys.

You’d sit with your arms resting on your knees, curdled up on his bed watching him.

“Hurry through here so we can corner these guys.. come on, faster, faster!” he says, speaking to Heeseung, Jungwon and Sunghoon through his headset. He’s been playing with them for hours now, and you just spend your time listening to him. The blue light from the screen emits onto his glasses, spreading on his whole face.

You scrolled your phone for a bit, but how much more could you scroll really? You desperately needed his attention, you missed his sweet words and his touch.

Without wanting to disturb him, you walk behind his gaming chair, wrapping your arms around his abdomen. He had to watch how he reacted cause the others could hear his every movement. “Oh..hey my love, what’s up?” he says, still focused on the screen. Your mood changes again, seeing how uninterested he is, not even bothering to look at you. You quickly take your hands off him and back off, that move making him look back at you for a split second.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, shooting another enemy.

“Forget it, i’m going home.” you say, the want to stay getting lesser and lesser.

“Wait.. what? what do you mean..?” he says, immediately grabbing his headset to take it off his head. He leaves the keyboard in the middle of the online game, faint sounds of the guys’ screams coming from the headphones.

“I wanna go home.” you look down.

“I’m sorry my love… I was totally ignoring you. I didn’t realise. I’ll leave the game right now.” he gently grabs your hands, looking up at you like a guilty puppy.

You stop him. “I’m just mad at you. How can you invite me over then just.. ignore me like that??” you snap.

He looks down again. “I’m acting so stupid. I’m sorry.. is there any way I can make it up to you?”

As he’s massaging your fingers with his, you look down, noticing the way his joints move. The amount of small veins he has in his hand and how easily you can trace them with your touch. You stare at his slender fingers, his perfect trimmed nails… just getting an idea.

“Jake..” you whisper, pulling him into a soft kiss. As you lean in, he grabs onto one side of your jaw, pulling you closer to him. You almost sit on his lap, before he stands up to make you walk back to his bed. You both make out for a bit, barely getting enough of each other’s lips.

He lays you on his bed, getting on top of you to continue kissing you. It’s just like he knows what you want to forgive him. “Let me make you happy… what do you think?” he smiles softly. You just nod, looking up at him with desperate but determined eyes.

His fingers slyly cross your neck, down your collarbone and down your shirt. He uses one hand to massage your whole chest through your large shirt. He slowly touches you all over, before stopping at your hips, where the shirt ends. he moves his fingers up your shirt, on your abdomen, finally sliding it off you from above your head. Your breasts now fully in his view, he smiles upon looking at them.

“You’re so damn perfect. I love you so much.” he says. his fingers cage your tits with a squeeze, trying to make the best of it with how much time he has until his members realise he’s gone.

“I love you too baby.” you say back shyly, biting your lip after watching his veiny hands touch you all over. His fingers are genuinely perfect, the way his hands are so soft on your plush skin, pretty pink knuckles and hands just a little cold to make you shiver.

He finally moves down to your pants, sliding them off in one move, making you spread your legs a bit so he can take them off. You’re just left in your underwear now, already soaked. You’re waiting for his slender fingers to welcome your pussy with a touch, but he has other plans. Instead, he picks you up in his embrace, legs wrapped around his waist. Your wet underwear leaves an embarrassing stain on his plain white shirt but he doesn’t mind.

He buries his head into your neck while he walks back to the desk. “You’re so wet for me, love.” He says satisfied. “Now you better stay quiet, the mic is on you and… you don’t want them to hear you, do you?” you look at him a bit scared of the situation, but you shake your head. “Good girl, stay quiet for me then.” he reassures.

Jake sits back down on the chair, making you sit on his lap, facing him. He places the mic of the headset right close to you telling the guys that he’s finally back. He puts the headset on one of your ears, letting you hear him aswell with the other. Now his friends are just talking about random things while you hear them with one ear, and your boyfriend’s voice in the other. You stay completely quiet but he makes a move, leaning in to your face to tell his members that he’s going to be away from his keyboard for a bit again.

After he says that, he leans back into his chair and immediately rips your underwear off. He makes a big hole in them not even bothering to take them off. Jake shyly touches your sensitive clit with the bud of his thumb, tracing small circles around it. He looks at what he’s doing the entire time, admiring how wet you could’ve gotten for him in this time.

He pulls his fingers away to shove them in your mouth, making you lick and suck on his fingers for a minute or so. The fingers get coated in your saliva, and he pulls them out to continue touching your clit. You succeed staying quiet, grabbing his shoulders with both your hands. He picks up his pace, beginning to squeeze the sensible skin, pinching it and dragging it with his fingers. “So good.” He whispers. You close your mouth shut, trying your hardest not to make a sound, the guys’ voices echoing through your head.

After he’s done abusing your clit, he moves down to your folds, touching all over them with his wet fingers. He stops at your desperate hole, slowly pushing one finger inside. You close your eyes, your lips parting at the sudden feeling. Your body jerks up automatically as you let out a heavy breath.

As your eyelids connect, they crush two sweet tears in between them.

Jake reaches for the mic, holding it in his palm so the sound muffles. “I barely shoved my finger inside, princess. Stay still.” He says, moving his fingers slowly in and out of you. Your juices run down his knuckles as you sit there on his lap shamefully. You grab onto his shoulder blades, trying your best to stay quiet.

He takes his hand away from the mic, placing it on your thigh instead. He sneaks another finger in, making you leave out a small sound. He looks up at you with his glistening puppy eyes, smiling ever so slightly with the corners of his mouth. He picks up his pace significantly, the feeling of his fingers so deep inside your core making you want to scream right there. If there’s one thing you love about your boyfriend’s physical appearance it HAS to be his hands.

They’re so soft, perfect for holding or.. you know, feeling.

He takes really good care of his hands, specially for you. He makes sure he stays on the top of his hygiene mostly for moments like these. You slowly lean in to give him a quiet kiss, muffling a moan that was forming in the back of your throat. The buds of his fingers rub against the best spot as he curls them inside, making you leave out a louder sound. Luckily his members were preoccupied with the game and didn’t really pay attention to what they heard.

Jake’s eyebrows raised slightly, speeding up even more. You start shaking your head, barely being able to contain yourself anymore. Your poor underwear is stuck to your skin, almost fully wet against it. “J…Jake.. I can’t please.. i… please…” you plead in a faint whisper.

“What’s that, love? tell me clearly.” he says, clearly knowing what you’re about to say but he still loves teasing you for it.

“Gonna cum…. oh m… fucking days. Please. Let me.. cum..” you whisper so slightly again, the sound barely hitting his ears.

“Keep quiet though, i’m letting you finish don’t worry.” he keeps going, massaging your thigh with his other hand. You immediately feel the knot in your stomach unleash with a large gush that spreads down his fingers and onto his sweatpants. You cover your mouth with your hand really tightening your palm on your face.

He smiles in satisfaction, pulling his fingers out to shove them inside his mouth. He licks his fingers to be able to taste you on his tongue, and he finally grabs onto your ass. He gives it a little playful slap before grinding you on him. You manage to calm your high down just to focus on him. You look down at his bulge forming in his now wet stained pants.

Jake has always been hard to take, in other words, he’s just packing. It never demotivated you to take him whole, no matter how much he stretched you out. Even his half-hard dick is hard to grab with one hand. That’s why when you slide his sweatpants off, you smile at him before barely wrapping one hand around his cock. You lazily stroke him to get him rock hard, your wet pussy just patiently waiting right next to it.

“Are you gonna be able to take it?” he looks at you understanding, knowing how before you would end up so stretched out after. You nod your head, sure of your actions this time.

“I can.” you reply. Once he’s fully hard, you trace a finger on the veins on his dick. Each and every one. You lick your lips before letting out a string of saliva fall down his cock, lubricating it a bit before positioning his tip on your hole. You take a deep breath as you sit on him slowly. He stretches you out more and more, and he insists on slowing everything down for you but you were so desperate to have him inside you that you just didn’t care anymore.

He keeps telling you to stop for yourself, to pull out if it’s too much. Instead you shush him, leaning your head back as you let yourself down on him. When you finally take him whole, your body shakes slightly at the feeling. You feel so full right now, so stretched. But there’s no way you’re pulling away.

His members start wondering where he is, and how they keep hearing breathing as he’s not in the game and he’s been missing for so long already. You panic a little upon hearing them ask about Jake but instead you just close your eyes, feeling his tip in your deepest spot.

“Oh fucks… sake. You’re so.. damn huge.” you whisper cry to him. He giggles a bit, only looking at you the whole time. “Let me see you move on it.” he grabs onto your waist gently.

You suck on your bottom lip as you sit back up, then back down on him. You start off with small bounces and somehow it never gets easier, no matter how many times you’ve both done this before. You do go slow for your own good, and he lets you go at your own pace.

He admires your pretty face contorting in all ways to his dick, but that just might be his favourite part. He loves how you react. You try your best picking up your pace, figuring he might’ve gotten bored already.

But it was the exact opposite, he didn’t mind, he wanted you to feel comfortable. You grind yourself on him a bit faster and he lets out a groan. “You’re so tight around me.. sweetheart..” he thinks he hasn’t stretched you out enough beforehand. “We can.. do it..” you say, already out of breath.

You spread your legs a bit more, releasing a bit of tension on him. You succeed bouncing on his big cock, whilst using his shoulders as handles. “You’re taking it so good..” he whispers. You go faster at his praises.

He’s been stretching you out for a while now, and it definitely got easier over time. The slight discomfort turned into satisfying pleasure for you. His swollen tip hits your g-spot every single time, making you want to cum right there. However, he’s been wanting to finish ever since you started. You feel so good wrapped around him he’s surprised he hasn’t let out a moan yet.

He rests his head on the chair enjoying your every move on him. You go faster again, getting closer to cumming again. Your puffy cunt is crying at this point, while you let out a slight moan with every bounce.

At this point his friends might’ve caught on, but you couldn’t care less, you just needed him and that’s it. You keep going for a bit before, before rolling your eyes back to cum. “I’m— again… I… oh m… Jake..” you struggle.

You don’t get to say anything else because you instantly finish again, your thighs shaking on top of him. You moan ever louder than before and your squirt runs down his legs now. He bites his lower lip, making you keep going with his palms on your ass. Your tired body keeps bouncing on him, and after a few more bounces, he cums all deep inside you. His dick twitches in sync with his moans after pulling out. His cum slowly pours out of you and onto the chair. You both sit like that for a few minutes to regain your thoughts, but instead he just grabs your ass again, shoving you back onto his cock.

A bit of cum shoves back into you too, a white ring forming around his base. You wrap your arms around his neck, as well as your head buried deep into it. You give his hot skin multiple kisses with heavy breaths. You both end up sweaty, breathing your lungs out. He keeps his dick inside you, without moving you or anything. He moves his chair back to his desk, getting that headset off you. Before placing it on his head, he gives your exposed ear a kiss. “Such a good girl, you took me so well.” he says before putting his headset back on and fixing his mic to his mouth.

“Hey guys, sorry I was gone for so long. Just wanted to make my girl happy.”

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