#it’s so overwhelming to feel like this all the time and to also feel so helpless bc you don’t know what to do
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Girl On TV
Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader
Summary: After being humiliated by his not-so-innocent friends for being far too innocent, you decide not to be such a prude for once in your life
Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Virgin!Reader, Coercion, Peer Pressure, Drug Use, Virginity shaming, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Sadomasocism, Grinding, Porn, Corruption Kink, Pillow Humping, Mutual Masterbation
A/n: I love being a problematic Namgyu stan
You hadn't known it would come down to this.
Had you been told before you would be dragged to sit on his lap under the dim lights of Club Pentagon and made to see this... you might not even have some at all.
Perhaps if he had invited you under the guise of distracting you from academics for one Friday night, you might've been more open.
Less of a prude.
But you had never seen such a clean line of powder stretched across the table in your life. In fact your body burns with not only embarrassment at being in the proximity of such hardcore drugs, but your bones were also set alight in fear.
The arms that have been cradling your waist pulls you in tighter, making you feel smaller than you actually were on his lap. This is what you loved about him. He liked you. Your curves. Your face. Your everything.
You could stick this out, couldn't you?
You should.
"Woah," He calmly whispers into your ear. All at once, every morsel of discomfort is driven out by your overwhelming need to please him.
The club is dark.
The music is good.
Namgyu's pulled you onto his lap in front of an embarrassingly large group of strangers. Everything is perfect.
"What's wrong?" He's so attentiative, bending his head down to whispers conspiratorially into your hair. His voice drowns out the oppressive rap song being performed on the center stage on the ground floor of the club and for all of five minutes its just you and him and the cocaine. Buy mainly, just him.
"You're strung up." He whispers.
You're quiet for a few tense minutes, wondering if you should voice your concerns and risk having him disappointed in you for not having fun like he intended.
"I don't know if I'm too comfortable."
"Here?" You hear him whisper, slightly poking his head forward to nudge his nose into the back of your neck, "With me?" He's using that petulant almost needy voice of his when he's inebriated and it tugs at something deeply troubled inside you.
"Not with you," you reassure him, "With that-" you nudge your head forward slightly, leading his half-lidded eyes to the long stripe of cocaine marring the table. "And your friends," you reluctantly murmur, letting yourself sink against him as if he had the power to scare these drunken people away. As if he wasn't forcing you here, amongst them at all.
"You know Thanos is a big name in the club scene-" He begins and you cut him off by sighing very loudly as you resch forward to grab your glass of water off the small, reflective table.
Thoroughly annoyed because he's sung this song before.
"I know, Namgyu but-"
His fingers weave into themselves around your waist, securing you against him like a baby, "Just be cool for like 40 minutes- maybe and hour-"
Your blood pressure skyrocketed as you turned back to shoot him, not only a look of immense incredulousness but betrayal.
"Namgyu, you said you wanted to take me out- yeah? Not your friends-”
"-Then we can get out of here, and I'll give you all the kisses you want."
You sigh heavily once more. “You didn't say anything about-"
He loosens his grip from your waist before standing up, forcing you to stand up in the process.
"He's coming," he whispers, keeping his eye off into the distance. His attention is much not on you and your present moral struggles.
"This is work, baby, you know this-"
"Namgyu- I have a test on-"
He pinches your side as a new guest enters the section. "Shh." Namgyu whispers at the same time the guest's boisterous hollers cause you to quite literally flinch.
"Yo, Namsu!" He's dripping in gold chains and purple hair. "Who is this fine Senorita you've brought with you?" He asks despite having two women under his arm. "You trying to outdo me bro?" Thanos takes a seat directly beside you and Your boyfriend.
"This is my girl-" He says at the same time Namgyu pulls you back onto his lap.
"It's Nam-Gyu-" you say through gritted teeth. "Not Nam-Su." Your eyes are narrowed at the man who only listens and smiles.
You glare daggers at the man before your boyfriend taps you slightly, reminding you to answer. “I have water- so no thank you." You say before mumbling, "I'm not a snitch either-"
"Is she partaking with us?" He asks your boyfriend, despite looking right at you. “Or is she a snitch?"
The girl under Thanos' arm snickers. "Water?"
You once again, tried to crawl further into Namgyu's lap.
He, thankfully tightened his grip around your waist, never letting you go as he conversed in inebriated chatter with Thanos. The more drugs they consumed the louder they got, until Namgyu started flailing his right arm wildly while he told a story, still having somewhat enough sense to keep a languid grip on your waist.
Somewhere, amongst all the useless chatter, you decided to add in your two cents, snickering quietly to yourself as you mumbled over the rim of your glass, "I've actually never watched porn before-"
"What do you mean you've never watched porn before?" Your eyes widen when you realize you'd spoken louder than you intended to and one of Thanos' girls snicker loudly. The sound carries across the table to his degenerate friends and their girlfriend's and causes a whole new wave of laughter to be birthed from your embarrassment.
You begin to squirm in Namgyu's lap.
Despite the drugs and the loud music, the two of you were having such a nice evening... You never fancied partying much and yet, your boyfriend had to sink his claws into you to get you to agree to one night of partying. The consequences of that decision are playing out in front of you.
"You've been banging a virgin this entire time?" Thanos asks Namgyu the same time and nameless girl says-
"Even I've watched porn."
Despite the anxiety flooding your veins at being the center of unwanted attention, Namgyu's grip around your waist is firm. It keeps you grounded. It tightens around you now, nudging you against him like his nose at the nape of your neck.
"Have I?" Namgyu asks with his eyes as hazy as the city caught in dusk. There isn't alcohol on his breath, only a light dust of snow under his nose.
"Have you what?" You ask, staring down at your trembling hands.
"Been dealing with a virgin this entire time?" He asks, unraveling your very private life to a room full of strangers. He's high. And incredibly loose with his mouth. You have to find it in you to take his inebriation into account but you only feel annoyed.
“Is that why you don't do drugs with me?"
"I don't do drugs with you because I actually value my health-"
"Sick burn," Thanos snorts in his little corner.
Your eyes widen. Your throat tightens.
These aren't your people.
Your people are nestled in the university library, cramming one final time before their semester tests.
Yet here you were, caught under a thick cloud of smoke that had your throat burning, all for a boy.
And admittedly priceless one.
"Don't be an asshole." You turn to glare daggers at him.
"Don't be a prude-" he shoots back. A few locks of hair fall from behind his ear as he watches you with a darkened gaze. "Is that why we haven't had sex yet?" Your heart plummets, "cus you're a virgin?” Namgyu asks. You don't know which side he's on.
"Woah!? A virgin in the flesh-" Thanos hollers, staring at you like a specimen in a petri dish. He nudges the girl under his arm, "I'd cheat on you if you ever tried that shit with me.”
"I know!" The girl responds before turning to look at you with dazed, dilated pupils. "Aren't you scared he's gonna do something if you wait too long?"
These aren't your people.
"If Namgyu wants to sleep with someone then by all means-"
You wrestle out of his iron grip, thanking God for the water that's keeping you sober and steady on your feet.
"Ooh, spicy, spicy-" Thanos mumbles
"Can I go please?" Namgyu keeps his hand in yours, looking up at you with a deadly glare.
"Nah, you leave when I leave, I'm still working-"
You pull your hand out of his.
"I have a test on Tuesday. Goodnight.
Its not like you thought he would follow you. Namgyu was especially selfish, as was the case for most addicts. Right now, you imagine him snapping out of his daze, leaning back over that table, tucking his hair behind his ears as he snorted up whatever Thanos wanted him to.
You didn't think you were being followed and so you feel thoroughly and completely alone once you get to your apartment.
Despite being completely alone this evening, you still try to hide what you're watching on your phone. Your headsets are pulled over your ears, your head reclined against the arm of the couch while your blankie was pulled over your supine frame. You hadn't exactly planned on watching porn this evening but the group's bullying had left you curious.
The girl projected on your phone screen looks up at the actor about to rail her insides. "You've been a bad girl,"
You roll your eyes into the back of your skull. This was precisely why you refrained from mainstream porn. Some of the best stuff was either in your audio files or in your reading list. Visual porn never did much for you- until you scrolled a little too far down to a new, more promising video.
The actress has a crimson handprint on her ass, as her dom forces her to ride her pillow. Despite the difference in skin tone and the overall mediocre acting, you were having a considerable amount of fun imagining yourself in her place. You thought about an invisible collar clamped around your throat with a big, strong, domineering man loomed above you, forcing you to push your clit right up against-
The more you slipped into a pleasure filled haze. You watch with bated breath.
"Sh-it-" you nearly fall off the couch. Your phone plops out of your slippery hands, right onto your face and your headphones slide off. Standing above you, is Namgyu, trying to fight a grin off his face as he stares down at you. You look up at him with wide, frightened eyes.
"Wh-when did you get back home?" the words barely leave your mouth before Namgyu's grabbing your phone.
"Naughty, naughty girl," He doesn't seem surprised to see the contents on your screen. In fact, the only giveaway that he saw anything at all is the slight flicker his eyes make towards you, before he stares back down at the phone.
"H-How was 'work'?" You're desperately trying to steer your attention away from the blatant porn on your phone screen, away from the smirk on his face as he bites his lips, away from his exposed tattoos in his short sleeve shirt.
"Work was work." He replied, still watching the porn, "I'm high as shit." He says casually as he disappears into the bedroom, your phone still in his hand.
"Hard too." He says when he returns. Your phone clutched in one hand and the large teddy bear he bought you for your 21st clutched in the other hand. You furrow your brows up at him, confused when he takes a seat on the couch. Your feet against his thigh as he clicks a few buttons on your phone before seating the giant teddy bear beside him.
He grabs the remote before pressing a few buttons.
You freeze when you hear the moans first.
Your gaze catches the TV.
There, the girl from your screen rides her pillow and you're forced to watch.
You're almost too embarrassed to feel turned on. Ungluing your eyes from the TV, you instead watch your hands in your lap.
He places a hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He's sitting comfortably on his side, remarkably unfazed by the girl's pornographic moans.
"Fuck the bear." Is all he says, as he leans against his arm and he strokes your chin. Petting you.
"Wha-"
"You gonna make me ask again?"
It's something in his tone and his hazy, half-lidded gaze that kickstarts your senses as you languidly stand on your feet. You're trembling and he reaches out to interlock your hands in his. Namgyu loved how eager yet innocent you are for him. He can see in the clumsiness of your movements that you were already slipping into subspace. With trembling fingers, you reach up to the thin straps of your pyjama dress and he nods his head.
"Should I take off my panties too?" Your voice is small.
Namgyu tilts his head. "You even have to ask?"
Behind you, the girl's breathing doubles and her moans increase.
"Better hurry or she's gonna cum." He taunts, watching like a stone statue as you mount the bear seated beside him. Namgyu's breathing catches as you straddle the bear, your movements tense and uncertain.
"Fuck the bear-" you lower your cunt onto the fur material and you moan, having not realized how wet you'd actually been this entire evening.
"That's it- fuck." He spreads his legs, leaning back more as he lets his hand brush over the tent in his jeans.
You don't moan because it feels good. It doesn't. Not immediately at least. You moan because Namgyu is watching. Reclined against the couch as his eyes stay on you.
"Ride the plushie like the girl in the video." He says. Your throat dries when he continues to languidly stroke his hand over the bulge in his sweatpants.
"Fuck- Gyu," he knew when the nickname fell from your lips that you were done for.
You both were.
Your eyes steadily roll to the back of your head as you grind your pussy against the bear, already creating a wet spot.
Behind you, you heard the girl moan and whine and somehow that spurrs you on.
"So fucking needy-” you gasp when you feel a hand cupping your exposed breasts. Namgyu reaches over to tweak your nipples just as his other hand finally slips inside his pants.
"Crane your fucking neck back. Try to watch the slut make herself cum." When you do, your hips stutter hard and your clit twitches.
"You watch her." Namgyu commands, stroking his exposed cock, "I'd rather watch you."
As you watch, his mouth runs. Namgyu swore a lot but it doubled when he caught himself in the throes of arousal.
“You look just like that bitch, you know that?”
Your mouth snaps open as you watch her. Your expression is pained.
“You want everyone to think you're such a quiet little girl but your just a slut, yeah?” He speaks lpuder, “Just my fucking slut- fuck.” It nearly causes you to cum everywhere. Her hand is pushing down on the face of the poor, poor pillow as she rides it. You can tell she's close.
Unable to look any longer, you turn back. Your hazy eyes meets Namgyu's dilated ones. He's stroking his cock, head thrown back against the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar. His cock is throbbing in his hand and he squeezes, showing you the precum sliding down the length.
"Gyu, please-" you grinded harder against the plushy and Namgyu picked up the pace.
"You imagining me fucking you, huh?" He throws his head back, closing, his eyes momentarily close as his cock twitches in his hand.
"Fuck- I-" your clit was rubbing against the plushie just right. Namgyu's fingers mercilessly squeezing your nipples have you seeing stars. This friction was enough.
Fuck.
Air could be enough to let you come in this moment. All you had to do was buck your hips a little more- but the pain blooming across your breasts were distracting you from cumming.
"Please-" your whole body was trembling- "It fucking hurts!"
His mouth falls open at that, before leaning his head against the couch. He squeezes the base of his cock and you watch the precum slide down its length.
"Fuck, say that again-" he brings his head back before stroking his cock faster. "Fuck the plushie, baby," His hips move up from the couch to meet his hand. "Tell me it hurts again-"
He sits up to tweak your nipples again and you whine. "H-Hurts so bad-"
"Yeah, Princess, just like that," he groans, throwing his head back, "Such a stupid fucking slut-" he admits, voice groggy.
Somehow that final degradation has your hips twitching as your clit spasms and you slip into the stars.
The second you cum, Namgyu does too. Cursing and mumrering a quiet and slightly broken, "Fuck- such s-slut-" before reaching over to grab a fistfull of your braids. Your hips are still writhing, your eyes as blank as a corpse as he pulls you forward to spray his cum all over your face.
He squeezes his cock, unable to keep his pretty eyes shut as he watches you writhe and moan. "Fuck me-" he sighs.
"Don't watch this shit again." He says, huffing and puffing. "It's bad for you."
In a second, he presses a button on the remote and the TV screen is black.
"If you need dick, come to me."
"You were making f-fun of me," you grumble under your breath, and you sigh heavily.
Your eyes are shut but you can feel him playing with his cum on your face.
"I wasn't making fun of you. I was just surprised. You're surprising." There's a thick layer of emotion in his voice. It has your body wracking with aftershocks. "You're not like anything I've ever experienced."
#squid game#squid game x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game smut#nam gyu#nam gyu x reader#nam gyu smut#namgyu x reader#namgyu#namgyu fanfic#namgyu smut
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OK IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR A WHILE
so I keep seeing these ads for “pheromone perfume” pop up. the women in who advertise it say that it makes men go crazy, it smells amazing, they can’t get their bfs off of them whenever they put it on (and usually they put it on and then set up the camera and wait for their significant other to walk in the room and react to it)
and every time I see one of those ads, I think of designationless reader.
idk if that’s something they’d ever do, but I feel like it would be interesting for them to dab some of it on their wrists and behind their ears, as well as where their scent glands are and see how the guys react to it 🤭🤭
Anon i love you and I am smooching your brain so hard rn
The idea had been simmering in your mind for weeks, born from the endless pheromone perfume ads that flooded your late-night scrolling. People with bright smiles swore their perfumes were magic, capable of driving their partners wild with desire. But you weren’t like those people. You had no designation, no scent, no pheromones to speak of-
The ads made you feel like an outsider all over again. But they also left you wondering- what if there was a way to bridge that gap, just a little?
That’s how you found yourself at a specialized lab, the kind that catered to people willing to spend a small fortune for something deeply personal. It wasn’t easy. The process was invasive, awkward, and expensive. The technicians had taken a lot of samples of your body- skin oils, sweat, saliva- examining them under microscopes, running them through machines you didn’t understand, distilling your very essence into a single vial of concentrated potential.
When you walked out with the tiny glass bottle, your wallet was lighter, and your chest was tight with nerves.
What if this didn’t work?
What if it did?
Being scentless had always set you apart, a quiet absence in a world built on pheromones and instinct. You didn’t have the alluring pull of an omega’s sweetness or the steady, grounding weight of a beta’s calm. And you certainly didn’t have the commanding presence of an alpha’s dominance.
You were… nothing.
Not that your pack ever made you feel that way. Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz treated you like you hung the moon, their affection constant and overwhelming. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, you wondered what it would be like if you could scent them. If you could mark them the way they marked you. If you could pull them closer without relying on their instincts to protect what was theirs.
You’d dabbed the finished product on experimentally: just behind your ears, at the base of your throat, and along the faint line of your collarbone. You added drops to your wrists and even a little over your faulty scent glands, though you weren’t sure why. It had no scent for you, and you were almost worried that they might have scammed you.
But their reactions convinced you otherwise.
The moment he walked into the common area, his steps faltered. His broad shoulders stiffened, and his blue eyes sharpened, narrowing as if sensing something just out of reach. He sniffed once, subtly at first, but then again, deeper, his nostrils flaring, and his hands flexed at his sides.
“Something’s… different.” He muttered, almost to himself, but his voice was low enough to send a shiver through you.
“Something wrong, Cap?” You asked innocently, feigning ignorance as Soap entered behind him.
Soap stopped in his tracks, bright demeanor dimming as his eyes zeroed in on you. His head tilted, his mouth parting slightly as he breathed in deeply. “Lass,” he murmured, soft and careful. “What are you wearin’?”
“Clothes? What else would I be wearing, Soap?” You replied, voice dry just enough to be convincing. You raised an eyebrow, then, and crossed your arms. “Seriously, what’s going on?”
Gaz appeared next, his movements slower than usual as he approached. Dark eyes narrowed, his focus razor-sharp as his body tensed. He didn’t speak immediately; instead, he circled you slightly, his hands twitching like he wanted to reach out but didn’t know where to start.
Ghost entered last, his imposing frame cutting through the room’s tension like a blade. He didn’t say a word, didn’t ask, didn’t even hesitate. He simply stopped in front of you, his chest rising and falling steadily as his head dipped slightly, his masked face inches from yours. His gloved hands found your waist, and a low growl rumbled in his chest as he inhaled deeply.
“What?” you asked again, blinking at them with wide eyes, your voice lilting with carefully curated confusion. “What’s wrong?”
Price stepped closer as well, his boots heavy against the floor as he studied you. “You smell… different, love.” He said, voice like the distant rumble of thunder.
“Different how?” you asked, biting back a smile.
Johnny couldn’t hold himself back from you any longer, his hands sliding over your hips as he leaned in, his nose brushing against the curve of your neck. He let out a low hum, his warm breath skimming your skin. “Christ,” he murmured, his lips barely grazing your throat, “you smell good. Like somethin’ I can’t quite place.”
Gaz knelt at your side, his hands wrapping around your wrists. He brought one up to his face, his eyes fluttering shut as he pressed a kiss to the soft skin. “Sweet,” he murmured softly. “Warm, like you’ve been wrapped in sunlight.”
Ghost growled again, deeper this time, the sound vibrating through his chest as his gloved fingers tightened on your waist. He pulled you closer, pressing his masked face against the other side of your neck, and the rumble in his throat sent a shiver down your spine.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to sell the performance. “I didn’t do anything.”
But the pack wasn’t buying it.
Price’s hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he tilted your face up. Piercing blue eyes searched yours. “You sure about that, love?” he asked, a low grumble that sent heat pooling in your stomach.
Soap pressed a kiss to your collarbone, his teeth grazing the skin lightly as his hands slid beneath your shirt. “Disnnae matter,” he murmured, voice thick with affection and something more primal, more hungry. “Whatever it is, it suits you.”
Gaz hummed in agreement, his lips trailing up the inside of your wrist to the sensitive skin of your palm. “Feels like it’s everywhere,” he said, his voice almost reverent. “Can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you, dove.”
Ghost was silent, but his actions spoke louder than words. He lifted you effortlessly, setting you on the edge of the table with a deliberate slowness that made your heart race. His hands found your thighs, his grip firm but gentle as he leaned in, his masked face pressing against your stomach. The low growl in his chest deepened, a possessive sound that sent a thrill through you.
They were relentless after that.
John claimed your lips, firm and demanding, his hands cupping the back of your neck as he tilted your head back. Soap followed, his kisses trailing along your jaw and down your throat, his hands exploring your body with a reverence that made you shiver.
Gaz and Simon kissed the inside of your thighs, their teeth grazing the sensitive skin there as theirs hands held you steady and open, all theirs.
“Perfect girl,” Simon groaned against the back of your thighs, thick fingers digging into your skin. “Ours. Whatever you’d done- you don’t need it. You’ll always be ours.”
Hours passed in a haze of touch and heat, their attention unyielding as they marked every inch of you as their own. They murmured about your scent between kisses, their words a mix of worship and devotion. You played your part perfectly, letting soft, breathless sounds escape your lips as you clung to them, your innocence a carefully crafted mask.
By the time they were done with you, your were very sure they had rubbed off all the perfume off your body, and covered you with their own scents.
When they finally pulled back, in the nest, their bodies heavy with satisfaction, Price cupped your cheek with gaze still burning with intensity. “You don’t need anything to make us want you,” he said, low but steady. He stared straight at you, so that you would not have any reasons to doubt his words. “You’re already perfect.”
You smiled, letting the words wash over you, but said nothing. Your secret was safe, for now.
#noona.asks#noona.writes#cod x reader#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x you#tf 141#cod imagines#cod#poly 141 x you#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly!141#poly 141#cod omegaverse#john price x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#soap x reader#simon ghost riley x you#gaz x reader#ghost x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#soap x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader
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⋆˚✿˖⊹↷rafe's obsession with creampies
warnings ; MDNI !!, mean!rafe, veryy filthy, creampie obviously, cumplay, cockwarming, overstimulation.
notes ; this took an embarrassingly long time to write & it was a little out of my comfort zone - im not good at smut but omfg he is evillllll. - also if it's not clear this isn't against your will or anything !
it was never enough for rafe to simply finish, it wasn’t just an act of release for him but one of dominance and possession. anything less than leaving himself wholly claimed within you felt incomplete, a failure in his mind. your trembling pleas of being "too full" were met with an unyielding resolve. he would continue until every ounce of him was poured into you, until his own satisfaction was absolute. even then, his efforts didn’t cease; his fingers, deliberate and firm, ensured not a single drop was wasted, pressing into your tender, overstimulated flesh as his lips traced bruises and bites across your skin, each a deliberate mark of ownership.
at times, he went without even that minimal reprieve, preferring instead to keep you firmly seated on his cock. "don’t let any of it come out," he murmured, his tone commanding yet maddeningly soft, his hands holding your trembling body steady. "all of my cum stays in that sweet pussy, where it belongs." he would watch intently, his piercing gaze lingering on your every effort to comply, his satisfaction evident as you strained to meet his demand despite the tremors wracking your body.
and when his mood turned particularly cruel, his hand would press against your lower abdomen, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he felt the unmistakable evidence of his release inside you. "look at that," he’d say, his voice a low, taunting purr. a slight increase in pressure would force a thick bead of his release to slip out, trailing down your thigh as his smirk deepened. "don’t waste it," he’d chide, the mixture of mockery and praise in his tone enough to leave you breathless. tilting your flushed face toward him, he’d whisper, "you’re mine. keep it all in, good girl."
he was relentless, taking you past every conceivable limit, his presence overwhelming in both body and intent. again and again, he claimed you, until you could no longer voice your protests, your body reduced to a trembling, swollen mess. the slick evidence of his ownership coated your thighs, and your skin was flushed and glistening. he would lower himself to eye level with you, studying his handiwork with the precision of an artist admiring a masterpiece. his tongue swept over his lips as he muttered, "just a little more. you’re perfect like this, full of me."
eventually, when exhaustion rendered you pliant and trembling, he softened, if only slightly. his lips brushed your damp knee in an uncharacteristically tender gesture, and his voice dropped to a murmur. "push it out f'me," he coaxed, his tone no longer commanding but gentle. "let me see, baby. all of it." obediently, you complied, relief washing over you as thick streams of him spilled from you, pooling beneath you in a warm, sticky mess. the release left you slumped and trembling, your body utterly spent and limp against the disheveled sheets.
yet rafe wasn’t finished, not mentally, at least. his attention was fixed, unyielding, on the rhythmic contractions of your body as it expelled him, the visceral imagery stirring something primal within him. it fascinated him, how much you could take, how your body responded to him so completely. the sight alone stirred pure lust and desire, igniting thoughts of testing your limits even further.
taglist ; @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @foolishangelic @i2rapunzel ( feel free to ask to be added! idm! )
#⋆₊˚works#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe fic#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#obx#obx fic#outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe fanfic#rafe imagine#rafe#rafe obx#rafe smut#rafe x reader smut#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe x female reader#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#obx smut#obx fanfiction#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction
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'Elloo! :D I saw your requests open, can I request some hcs or short imagines for the first, second, and third years, separate characters?? Or you can just do it as a single scenario with all the characters. They're (Their??) reaction when they've realized the things reader/Yuu had to go through starting from the very beginning ,when they first got transported to the school. Like, the shock of not being able to go home, new environment, the fear-- just the emotional and mental turmoil reader/yuu went through starting from the beginning.
Also, as time goes by it just gets worse and worse along with all the overblots and stuff that got reader/Yuu over the edge. And now the students kind of help?? Or at least try to soothe or comfort the reader I guess??
Does this make any sense?? I dunno :'D
I want me some angst hehe >:]
But if this is kind of too much then it's okii if you wanna skip this one, I love the effort you put into your writings! <3
I kinda just wanted to ramble and yap about this idea I had hehe
Toodles!
thank you!! and i'm sorry it too so long, but i hope you like it <3
They realise what you went through - All NRC + Rollo + Neige + Grim, Staff
Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle doesn’t realize the extent of your struggle until much later, likely after witnessing you reach your breaking point. The way you bottle up your emotions reminds him of himself before his own overblot, and it fills him with guilt. He prides himself on upholding order, but he feels like he failed to notice the chaos within you.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Riddle asks, voice trembling as he stands before you, his normally stern expression soft with regret. He places a hesitant hand on your shoulder, unsure if he has the right to offer comfort after overlooking your pain for so long. “I… I should have noticed. I’m sorry.”
Riddle dives into a methodical plan to ease your burdens. He takes on your academic concerns, ensuring your assignments are manageable and offering personal tutoring. When you’re overwhelmed, he insists you take breaks in Heartslabyul’s peaceful rose garden. While he’s not good at openly expressing affection, he’s steadfast, always by your side with words of encouragement and warm tea.
Trey Clover
Trey picks up on your struggles sooner than most, his observant nature allowing him to notice the small cracks in your demeanor. He doesn’t pry but stays close, offering quiet support until he realizes you’re beyond your limit. His heart aches knowing you’ve been carrying so much without asking for help.
“Hey… you don’t have to pretend everything’s fine,” Trey says softly, kneeling beside you as you sit slumped in an empty classroom. His usual calm demeanor is tinged with concern. “I’ve seen you pushing yourself too hard. You’re not alone in this, you know.”
Trey becomes your sanctuary. He’s the type to cook comforting meals for you, often sneaking you your favorite desserts. He encourages you to talk at your own pace, listening without judgment. Trey also ensures you’re surrounded by people who care, gently urging you to spend time with friends so you never feel isolated again.
Cater Diamond
Cater doesn’t fully realize how bad things are until he catches you breaking down when you think no one is watching. The sight hits him hard—he’s used to wearing masks himself, but seeing you put on a brave face while falling apart reminds him of his own struggles.
“Whoa, hey, hey…” Cater’s voice is unusually soft as he crouches in front of you, the playful lilt replaced with genuine worry. “You’ve been holding all this in, haven’t you? Man, that’s not healthy… You should’ve told me!”
Cater becomes your cheerleader, using his energy to lift your spirits. He takes you on spontaneous outings, distracting you with fun activities and selfies to remind you of life’s lighter side. When you need to vent, he’s surprisingly patient, letting you talk without interruptions. His go-to phrase becomes, “No filter, just let it out. I’m here.”
Ace Trappola
Ace is the last to understand the depth of your pain, brushing off your struggles as stress until you finally snap. Seeing you cry or lash out leaves him dumbstruck—he’s not used to serious emotions and struggles to process it at first. But beneath his awkwardness, he genuinely cares.
“Whoa… I didn’t think it was this bad.” Ace rubs the back of his neck, guilt clear in his expression. “Look, I’m sorry if I made things worse. I didn’t mean to. I just… didn’t know.”
Ace sticks close to you in his own Ace-like way. He cracks jokes to make you laugh and distracts you with playful banter, but he’s also there for the serious moments. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, he drags you outside to play a quick game of basketball or to look at the stars, insisting, “You’ve gotta clear your head, or you’ll go crazy.”
Deuce Spade
Deuce notices your struggles but doesn’t know how to approach you about them. When he finally sees you crumble, it makes him feel like he’s failed as your friend. His protective instincts kick in, and he becomes determined to help you in any way he can.
“Wait—you’ve been feeling like this the whole time?” Deuce’s voice is thick with emotion as he looks at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done something! I’m supposed to have your back!”
Deuce takes your well-being seriously, to the point of overcompensating at first. He insists on walking you to class, carrying your things, and defending you against anything he perceives as a threat (real or imagined). Over time, he learns to provide quiet support, sitting with you during tough moments and saying, “We’ll get through this together. I promise.”
Leona Kingscholar
Leona is a perceptive man, even if he acts otherwise, but your struggles slip under his radar for too long. It isn’t until he notices how you’ve stopped rising to his teasing or how the light in your eyes has dimmed that the gravity of your situation hits him. It reminds him of his own sense of isolation, and the guilt gnaws at him.
“Tch. You think you’re the only one who has to deal with this crap?” Leona’s voice is gruff, but there’s no malice in it. He sighs, sitting beside you under the shade of a tree. “You should’ve said something sooner, herbivore. Doesn’t mean you have to carry it all yourself.”
Leona doesn’t coddle you, but his actions speak louder than his words. He offers his presence, silently inviting you to nap in the botanical gardens with him when you need a break. If anyone dares to make your life harder, Leona handles it with a quiet, lethal efficiency. “Rest up. You’re not falling apart on my watch.”
Ruggie Bucchi
Ruggie notices your struggles quickly, but his initial reaction is to brush it off as normal stress—until he sees you genuinely hit your breaking point. It stuns him; he’s used to dealing with hardships himself but hates the idea of you enduring the same without support.
“Oi, don’t do this to yourself,” Ruggie says, his usual playful tone replaced by something softer. “You’re not alone, y’know? I don’t let my people suffer in silence. That’s not how we roll.”
Ruggie uses his resourcefulness to lighten your load however he can. He sneaks you snacks, takes care of tedious tasks for you, and even makes you laugh with his sharp wit. When you’re overwhelmed, he shares stories of his struggles to show you that it’s okay to lean on others. “You’ve got me, okay? I’ll make sure you’re okay, promise.”
Jack Howl
Jack notices the signs of your stress early on, but he hesitates to bring it up, unsure if it’s his place. When he finally realizes how deeply you’re struggling, it stirs a protective instinct in him, and he immediately resolves to do whatever it takes to help you.
“You should’ve told me,” Jack says, his voice low and filled with regret. His ears twitch as he glances away, guilt etched across his face. “I could’ve helped. You don’t have to do this on your own anymore.”
Jack becomes your steadfast support, encouraging you to exercise or go for runs to clear your mind. He’s a calming presence, offering quiet companionship when words aren’t enough. “You’re strong, but you don’t always have to be. Let me help carry the weight, okay?”
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul prides himself on noticing vulnerabilities in others, but your ability to mask your pain throws him off. When the cracks finally show, it shakes him deeply, reminding him of his own insecurities and the times he felt powerless.
“I didn’t realize…” Azul murmurs, his hands wringing nervously as he looks at you with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I should have seen it. I’m sorry—for everything. Let me help you now.”
Azul’s approach is practical and calculated, but it’s rooted in genuine care. He offers to take over responsibilities or negotiate solutions to ease your stress. When you’re overwhelmed, he’s unexpectedly tender, sitting with you in his VIP room and reminding you, “Even the strongest need someone to lean on. You’ve been there for others; let us be here for you.”
Jade Leech
Jade notices your struggles early but refrains from intervening, assuming you’ll reach out when you’re ready. When he realizes how much you’ve been bottling up, he’s surprised and slightly guilty for not addressing it sooner.
“My, you’ve been carrying quite the burden,” Jade says, his usual calm tinged with regret. “It seems I underestimated just how much you’ve endured. Forgive my oversight.”
Jade is a master of subtlety, offering comfort in ways that feel natural and unintrusive. He invites you on quiet walks through the woods, using the serene atmosphere to help ease your mind. When words are needed, he listens attentively, his soothing voice offering reassurance. “Do not hesitate to lean on me, should you need support. I’ll always be here.”
Floyd Leech
Floyd doesn’t realize how bad things are until you completely snap, and even then, it takes him a moment to process that your outburst isn’t just a temporary mood. Seeing you so broken flips a switch in him, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness.
“Shrimpy, why didn’t you say anything?” Floyd’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet, his sharp eyes scanning your face. He pouts, but there’s no mischief in it—just genuine concern. “You don’t gotta handle everything alone, y’know?”
Floyd sticks to you like glue, his unpredictable nature becoming a strange source of comfort. He drags you out for spontaneous adventures, insisting that fun will help you feel better. When you’re feeling low, he’s surprisingly gentle, wrapping you in a tight hug and muttering, “I gotcha, Shrimpy. Nobody’s messin’ with you while I’m here.”
Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim is always full of energy and positivity, so it takes him a while to notice the depths of your struggles. When he does, he’s devastated, blaming himself for not seeing it sooner.
“Wait—you’ve been feeling like this?” Kalim’s eyes widen, tears threatening to spill. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done something to help!”
Kalim does everything in his power to brighten your days. He showers you with gifts, invites you to lively parties, and insists on spending time together to lift your spirits. When he realizes that quiet support means more than grand gestures, he sits with you, holding your hand. “You’re not alone, okay? I’ll always be here for you.”
Jamil Viper
Jamil is highly observant, and while he notices your struggles early on, he assumes you’re managing on your own until he sees how much you’ve truly endured. It reminds him of his own bottled-up frustrations, and guilt eats at him for not acting sooner.
“...I should’ve known,” Jamil mutters, his voice low and filled with regret. He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I’ve been through this too. I know what it’s like to feel trapped. I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner.”
Jamil’s care comes in quiet, thoughtful gestures. He prepares your favorite meals, arranges peaceful moments away from the chaos of NRC, and ensures you never feel overwhelmed alone. “You’ve done more than enough. Let me take care of things for a while.”
Vil Schoenheit
Vil’s sharp eyes catch the signs of your struggles quickly, but he initially brushes them off, believing you’ll overcome them like any challenge. When the full weight of your burden becomes clear, he’s horrified and deeply regretful for not intervening sooner.
“I failed to notice something so glaringly obvious,” Vil says, his tone laced with self-reproach. “That’s not acceptable—not as your friend and certainly not as someone who should’ve supported you better.”
Vil approaches your comfort with precision and care, determined to help you regain your footing. He insists on self-care days, encourages you to vent your frustrations, and teaches you grounding techniques. “You’re stronger than you think, but even the strongest need rest. I’m here for you, no matter what.”
Rook Hunt
Rook is attuned to the emotions of those around him, and your pain does not escape his notice. He marvels at your resilience but is deeply saddened that you’ve been enduring so much without seeking help.
“Mon cher trésor, your suffering… it pains me to think I let you endure this alone,” Rook says softly, his gaze earnest. “You’ve carried a weight that no one should bear by themselves. Allow me to lighten your burden.”
Rook’s support is poetic and heartfelt, crafting moments of beauty to remind you of the world’s wonders. Whether it’s a bouquet of flowers, a handwritten letter, or a quiet moment under the stars, he ensures you feel cherished. “You are not alone in this grand stage of life, and I shall remain by your side as your steadfast ally.”
Epel Felmier
Epel is initially too caught up in his own frustrations to notice the extent of your struggles, but once he sees you falter, his protective side kicks in. It reminds him of his own insecurities about being underestimated.
“Aw, geez, why didn’t ya say somethin’?” Epel frowns, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’re always lookin’ out for us, but ya never let anyone do the same for you. That ain’t fair.”
Epel takes a straightforward approach, offering to help however he can. He sticks close, ensuring you never feel alone, and encourages you to vent when needed. “You’re tough as nails, but that doesn’t mean you gotta do it all by yourself. We’re a team, remember?”
Idia Shroud
Idia is slow to notice your struggles, being so wrapped up in his own world, but when he realizes the extent of your pain, it hits him hard. He sees a reflection of his own struggles in you and feels immense guilt for not seeing it sooner.
“This is my fault, isn’t it?” Idia mumbles, his voice trembling. His hair dims as he nervously fiddles with his tablet. “I should’ve… I don’t know, paid more attention. I’m sorry. I—I wanna help, if you’ll let me.”
Idia comforts you in his own awkward way, creating a safe space where you can relax without judgment. He shares his favorite games, shows, and quiet moments, offering you an escape from the chaos. “You don’t have to be ‘okay’ all the time. Just… take it easy for now. I’m here if you need me.”
Ortho Shroud
Ortho is one of the first to notice your struggles, his advanced sensors picking up on changes in your emotional and physical state. His concern is immediate, and he wastes no time in seeking to help.
“You’ve been so sad for so long, haven’t you?” Ortho’s voice is soft, as he hovers close. “I wish I could’ve made you smile sooner. I’m sorry you’ve been hurting.”
Ortho’s comfort is warm and reassuring, filled with optimism and boundless energy. He’s always ready with encouraging words, small gifts, or simply a cheerful presence to brighten your day. “You’re not alone! I’ll do everything I can to help you feel better, okay?”
Malleus Draconia
Malleus has always sensed something amiss about your emotions, his acute sensitivity to auras making it impossible for him to overlook your struggles. However, he hesitates to approach, fearing he might overstep or worsen your burdens. When he finally understands the depth of your pain, he is both heartbroken and determined to help.
“You’ve been enduring this in silence?” His deep voice is laced with regret as his green eyes soften. “If only I had been more attentive, perhaps I could have eased your pain.”
Malleus ensures you feel his unwavering support. He invites you for peaceful strolls under the stars, shares his favorite quiet spots, and reassures you with his calming presence. “You are precious to me. Whatever darkness surrounds you, I will remain by your side until the light returns.”
Lilia Vanrouge
Lilia has lived long enough to recognize the signs of emotional turmoil, and it pains him to see you suffer. While he often masks his seriousness with cheerfulness, he doesn’t hesitate to step in when he sees you reaching your breaking point.
“Oh, little one, you’ve carried such a heavy heart all this time.” His playful demeanor fades into solemnity as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”
Lilia comforts you with wisdom and warmth, drawing on centuries of experience. He shares stories to make you laugh, cooks (albeit questionable) meals to distract you, and offers sage advice when you’re ready to talk. “Life’s trials are harsh, but you’re stronger than you know. And if you need someone to lean on, I’ll always be here.”
Silver
Silver is observant despite his drowsy nature, and he’s one of the first to notice your growing exhaustion. When he realizes the extent of your suffering, he feels deeply remorseful for not acting sooner.
“I should have seen this sooner,” Silver says quietly, his tone filled with regret. “You’ve always looked out for others… I should’ve done the same for you.”
Silver stays by your side, offering silent, steady support. He doesn’t push you to talk but is always ready to listen when you’re ready. His calm demeanor helps ground you, and he often sits quietly with you under a tree or by a calm lake. “You’re not alone. I’ll protect you—not just from danger, but from this weight you’re carrying.”
Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek’s initial reaction is frustration—not at you, but at himself for failing to notice your struggles while being so focused on Malleus. His loyalty shifts into overdrive as he becomes determined to help you.
“You’ve been struggling this much, and I didn’t see it?!” Sebek’s voice is loud, but there’s a rare softness in his expression. “That is… unacceptable. I failed you as a companion.”
Sebek’s attempts to comfort you are a bit clumsy but heartfelt. He insists on helping you with daily tasks and loudly declares his commitment to your well-being. Despite his rough edges, his sincerity shines through. “Know this: I will not allow you to suffer alone any longer. You have my loyalty, now and always.”
Rollo Flamme
Rollo’s disdain for magic only deepens when he realizes how much you’ve suffered due to the chaos and overblots of NRC. His concern for you is genuine, though it’s laced with anger toward the school and its culture.
“This place… It’s a cesspool of disorder and harm,” Rollo says, his voice cold yet trembling with suppressed emotion. “You’ve been caught in its web for too long. You deserve better.”
Rollo’s comfort is practical and protective. He tries to create a sense of normalcy for you, offering quiet, structured moments away from the chaos. His words are sharp but sincere. “You deserve a life of peace and stability. If you can’t find it here, I’ll do what I can to give it to you.”
Neige LeBlanche
Neige is quick to notice your distress, his naturally empathetic nature making him keenly aware of your struggles. He’s horrified to think of you enduring so much alone and wants to do everything in his power to make you smile again.
“Oh no… You’ve been feeling like this?” Neige’s voice is soft, his eyes brimming with concern. “You don’t deserve to carry such sadness by yourself.”
Neige’s comfort is gentle and uplifting. He sings for you, offers kind words, and encourages you to express your feelings without fear. “You’re so strong, but you don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to let someone take care of you for a change.”
Grim
Grim initially doesn’t notice your struggles, his focus often on his own ambitions and mischief. When he finally realizes how much you’ve been enduring, he feels both guilt and panic.
“Hey… You’re not okay, are ya?” Grim’s ears droop as he looks up at you, his voice unusually soft. “Why didn’t ya tell me? I—I’m supposed to be your partner!”
Grim becomes fiercely protective, sticking by your side at all times. He tries to cheer you up with his antics and insists on being your “emotional support boss.” “You’re stuck with me, got it? So don’t go actin’ like you’re all alone. I won’t let ya.”
Staff:
Crowley
Crowley prides himself on being the "benevolent" headmaster, but when he realizes how much you’ve suffered under his care—or lack thereof—he’s struck by a rare pang of guilt. While he’s not one to admit fault outright, he becomes visibly uncomfortable with the weight of his oversight.
“My dear, you’ve been carrying all of this on your shoulders?” His dramatic flair falters for a moment, his usual exuberance replaced with awkward sincerity. “I… suppose I may have been a tad neglectful in ensuring your well-being.”
Crowley tries to make amends in his own roundabout way, offering resources, extended accommodations, or attempting to be more attentive (though his efforts are often misguided). “Rest assured, I shall personally oversee that you are well cared for! You have my full support—within reason, of course.”
Divus Crewel
Crewel is not one to tolerate weakness, but when he sees the toll everything has taken on you, his stern demeanor softens. He’s the type to take immediate, no-nonsense action to ensure you’re taken care of.
“You’ve let it get this bad without saying a word?” His sharp tone is laced with frustration, but his eyes betray his concern. “Pup, I thought I taught you better than to carry burdens alone.”
Crewel’s approach is practical yet caring. He insists you rest, brings you comforting meals, and ensures you know you’re valued. “You’re stronger than you think, but even the strongest need support. Lean on me, pup. I’ll make sure you’re back to full strength in no time.”
Mozus Trein
Trein is a man of wisdom and observation. He likely noticed your struggles but respected your space, waiting for the right time to step in. When he realizes the full extent of your distress, he feels deep regret for not intervening sooner.
“I should have addressed this earlier.” His voice is steady but tinged with remorse. “You’ve faced more challenges than any student should. It’s a testament to your resilience, but it shouldn’t have come to this.”
Trein offers gentle guidance, providing stability and reassurance. He shares stories of his own trials and reminds you that even the hardest times pass. “Life is fraught with difficulties, but you’ve shown remarkable courage. Allow others to help shoulder the burden—you need not face this alone.”
Ashton Vargas
Vargas isn’t the most emotionally perceptive, but when it finally clicks that you’re struggling, he’s hit with a wave of guilt. He immediately shifts gears, trading his usual boisterousness for genuine concern.
“Whoa… I had no idea it was this bad,” Vargas says, his brows furrowed in concern. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I would’ve helped in a heartbeat!”
Vargas focuses on physical activity as a form of comfort, encouraging you to blow off steam in healthy ways. He also offers constant positive reinforcement. “You’re tough, kid, but even the toughest need a break. Let’s get some fresh air and clear your head—you’ve got this!”
Sam
Sam has always been attuned to the emotions of others, so when he realizes the depth of your struggles, he feels a pang of regret for not stepping in sooner. His usual upbeat demeanor becomes tinged with quiet sympathy.
“Well, well… Looks like someone’s been carrying more than their fair share.” His voice is soft, his usual grin replaced with a concerned expression. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”
Sam provides comfort through small but meaningful gestures, like preparing your favorite treats or giving you space to talk. He reassures you with his calming presence and wise words. “Don’t keep it bottled up, friend. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s valid. I’m here to help you through it.”
Masterlist
#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#riddle rosehearts x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jack howl x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#kalim al asim x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#epel felmier x reader#rook hunt x reader#malleus draconia x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#silver x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#idia shroud x reader#ortho shroud#rollo flamme x reader#neige leblanche#nrc staff#𐐪♡𐑂 rqs
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I have had so many haircuts gone wrong. Just... so many. Some that I liked well enough on the day, but that I could never style as well. Some that barely resembled what I was looking for. A few that were almost exactly what I thought I wanted, but ended up not liking in the mirror after the first time I washed it.
Almost none of them were haircuts I maintained of my own accord. In my 30+ years of choosing my own hairstyles, I've had exactly one haircut that I maintained with intention. It was Natalie Dormer's Hunger Games haircut, long on one side, buzzed on the other ~40%. I maintained that for years. Went to the Berkeley barbershop once a month, trimming the full length every three or four months, right up till we moved.
It was harder to find a spot for reasonable upkeep after that. Started trimming the buzzed side at home, which is where the creep started. The length of the rest of it started getting longer as the time between trims slipped, till it was maybe twice a year. And the edges of the buzz started moving, too. And then the pandemic happened, when I was already reaching the "hair too long, must cut" stage.
That mid pandemic haircut, right after lockdown ended? Way too far the other way. 😅 It was what I had asked for. What I thought I wanted. But it's been several years and intermediate styles of growing it out. But I also realized some things that I'd never understood before.
Thing the first. Sometimes I get very twitchy about sensory shit, but it's not consistent. Which means that a lot of the time, my hair is no biggie. But sometimes I lose my mind if it's touching my neck. If my hair is long enough, that means it stays in up-styles for a while. But if it's shorter than that, the haircut itch can get overwhelming.
Thing the second. I vastly prefer a style that frames at least one side of my face. This is the reason some of those short styles I wanted ended up fails. AND it's the reason that things start getting weird if my hair is up all the time when it's long, just in a different presentation. Luckily, I've found a couple of up-styles that play to a different vibe instead, but it's still... weird. I'm not sure if it's properly dysphoria, but it very much makes me feel super yucky about my face in body dysmorphia kinds of ways.
Thing the third. I recently decided to grow my hair long again. Not because of those things I figured out, although they're informing style goals. No, it's because I saw awesome, dark and gothic hair accessories that I wanted. Because apparently the "she" part of she/they really comes out when I'm shopping. Especially when I'm looking at jewelry. And this stuff was definitely hair jewelry. 😅
But all of this shit? It's why some women sob after a haircut. Or even just at the prospect of a haircut. It made me realize that gender affirming haircuts aren't just for trans folks. It's the first exercise of bodily autonomy for so many of us, and too many of us have to fight far too hard for it. It is gendered and it is racial and it is a culture war being waged literally on our heads.
the thing about having long hair especially if you are a girl/perceived as one is people act like they will be personally offended if you cut it. INCLUDING! hair stylists who you are paying to cut it. double it if you have blonde/red/ginger/curly/etc hair. like the lack of autonomy ive been allowed to feel about my hair, even when its subtle still has me afraid to go to the stylist and ask for the haircut im paying to get.
#haircut#hair color#hair dye#hair confidence#hairstyles#hair accessories#hair treatment#black hair#crown act#is hair dysphoria a thing?
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“mine. always”
(aka you get hurt and Caleb is pissed 😍)
tw: mentions of injuries, possessive Caleb 😝, post-disappearance Caleb.
you are.
The first thing you know, before you see anything, before you hear anything, is that you are.
It’s not a comforting feeling at first. It’s just a fact, a presence that is there, undeniable. You don’t smell anything—no familiar scents of home or the usual warmth of Caleb’s jacket. You don’t hear anything—no hum of the air conditioner or the soft breathing of those around you.
But you are.
You are, and that simple truth is like a small, flickering light in the darkness, reminding you that you exist. That despite the ache in your body, despite everything that has happened, you are still here. You are still alive.
It’s almost a relief, but it’s also jarring. The absence of everything you normally rely on leaves you with the raw, fundamental truth: you are here, in this moment, and that is all you know for sure.
But you are.
You exist.
And something else exists right alongside you.
Warmth presses into your side, not gentle but consuming. A presence, overwhelming, solid, him.
Then, his voice—low, raw, dangerous in its quiet intensity.
“You’re awake.”
The words are calm, but there’s nothing calm about Caleb. Not really. His face hovers close, too close, his storm-blue eyes drilling into yours like he’s trying to anchor you there, to keep you from slipping away again
You try to speak, to ask what happened, but your throat is dry, and the words catch. His grip tightens ever so slightly—not cruel, just firm, as though he can’t bear the thought of you slipping away even for a second.
“Don’t.” His breath is ragged, but the command is absolute. “Don’t speak. Don’t move. I’ve got you. I’m not—” His voice breaks, just for a heartbeat. “Just don’t.”
there’s an uncomfortable silence for a minute, then another, none of you say anything as you fidget with the sheets of the hospital bed- you hate the texture of these. they make your skin feel itchy.
You try to sit up, but his hand- warm, rough and calloused stops you, he pushes you down and makes you lay back down.
then, he speaks.
“I’m going to ask you who did this to you,” he starts, his voice barely shaking. In a way that it’s barely noticeable. Maybe you notice because you’re you. Because- maybe deep down he is who he used to be. “And you’re going to tell me so I know who exactly I’m dealing with and so that I can-”
He stops himself when you take his hand.
He stops himself when you look up at him with those big damn eyes he loves so much.
And then he’s holding you.
Not carefully, not like he’s afraid of hurting you, but like he’s afraid of losing you. His arms crush you against his chest, his face pressing into your neck, and you can feel it—how hard he’s breathing, how his heart hammers against yours like it’s still trying to outrun the fear of losing you.
You hear him whisper your name. Once. Twice. A desperate mantra, as though saying it enough will prove you’re really here. Really alive.
“I thought—” His voice cracks again, harsher this time, his breath hitching. You feel damp warmth where his face rests against your shoulder.
He doesn’t finish that sentence either.
Instead, his grip tightens, just a little, and you realize it’s not just desperation—it’s relief. He’s holding you like he’s memorizing the shape of you all over again, as if to convince himself you’re real, safe, breathing. Alive.
And you hold him back.
#caleb x mc#love and deep space#love and deepspace fic#lnds caleb#lads caleb#caleb love and deepspace#love and deepspace caleb#caleb lnds#lads x reader#love and deep space rafayel#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace xavier#Love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace zayne#xavier x reader#sylus fluff#rafayel fluff#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace rafayel#lnds#lads sylus#sylus love and deepspace
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price catches it first — that whiff spreading in the den, clogging up his throat like ratafia. it makes him pause, words failing him now, and he snaps his jaw shut at the start of a rumble pulsing from his chest.
he turns just as the others do, watching as you rub on your throat and grumble to yourself. it is bare, the first it’s ever been since you’ve arrived at the base, and his eyes drop to your collar in wonder.
he’s heard of those before — collars that conceal scents. they’ve become a privilege, not quite a necessity, so only a few are found with them. still, rarer are those who would wear them for hours on end, and in the base, you happened to be the only one to do so.
intriguing, if not at least worrying, because price had seen your file. you’re an alpha. an alpha prime, it seemed, based on your presentation records, and yet you came to him with a collar on your throat and your scent heavily suppressed. he didn’t ask, this is not the line of work where one can, and just demanded for your loyalty and skill.
so this is the first that they’re smelling of you. it is overwhelming, like all other alpha scents usually are, but it curls at the end. sweet but burnt. crackling firewood and smoke. it is pleasant but not just; like at every turn, there has to be something that gives. something unexpected; something unusual.
john breathes in sharply, his muscles going taut underneath the fatigues when he realizes what it is. the rest of the squad follow — they sit up straighter, their shoulders drawn higher, and their scents rap against each other, mixing in dizzying blends. the den becomes packed with worry, apprehension, horror, anger, protectiveness, protectiveness, protectiveness.
still, you only look at them with a cocked brow, daring them to go. to speak of what it is weighing down on their tongues.
it is kyle to do so. kyle who you trust more than anyone else.
“you’ve been bitched.”
he says it with no malice, but just as a fact rolling off his tongue, one that makes your fingers twitch while your face stays frozen, still a mask of normalcy. of measured strength and quiet fortitude.
“i have,” you reply, also void of emotion. any other day he would commend the control you have of your emotions to not even let it slip into your scent, especially after having relied on your collar so much, but tonight isn’t the right time. tonight, john’s mind swirls, his tongue heavy with the things he wants to say.
so he tries.
“was it—”
you blink at him. then, you laugh. “oh! yes, of course. i wanted it.”
your reply fills him up, stuffing him with cotton. he realizes that your tension was of worry; you were afraid that they would judge you. and john feels lighter, elated and calm now, but also he feels disjointed, like he is floating, and john, he–
he tries.
he tries not to imagine the weight of your words. he tries not to give them shape. but his mind is faster than his conscience, and john now thinks of you, alpha prime, begging for another alpha to turn you. to fill you up and drown your scent glands with their own before gnawing on your skin. biting. biting. biting. until it takes root, upending every fibre within you to make room for the submission. for the delicateness. for the heat.
john’s thoughts only grind to a halt when the new scent is snuffed out from the room, extinguished in its entirety, leaving no trail. his eyes find you fastening the collar on your neck again, your roughened fingers unlatching the buckle to loop the leather.
he swallows like he is a man parched, but his throat only grows dryer. there is nothing for him to feast on.
it goes by so slowly; your familiarity with the collar does not aid you in fastening its loose end, and john wonders if you might need help, after all. only, just as the question is building on the tip of his tongue, he realizes what you’re doing.
what teases you are leaving.
“so,” you say like you have not just presented an opportunity for them to latch onto. “can i be dismissed?”
john hums his ascent, and ends the meeting for tonight. they watch as you gather your files before waltzing away with only the sound of your boots following you. the rest of the squad stays, awashed by the… offering.
because it was everything and that.
it was a proof of your trust, and a question of their own, one that john knows that they will eagerly prove to you. but it was also an invitation; a revelation and now a question.
john watches the way simon’s knuckles turn white as he balls his hands into fists and wonders if his boys would allow him to be the first to you.
——
this is nothing and everything alike; experimenting on omegaverse in hopes that i’ll get out of my slump </3
#suns#john price x reader#task force 141 x reader#x reader#poly!141 x reader#john price#captain john price#cw omegaverse#<- non traditional alpha/beta/omega dynamics
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HYUN-JU x CLUMSY!READER
pairings. hyun-ju x f!reader
author's note: i'm working on a few requests right now, but again feel free to send in ur ideas, just make sure you read this before writing an ask! also thank you so much for all the support i've been getting on my hyun-ju fics🥹
▸ when hyun-ju's with you, it's as if she's obtained some sort of super power, like spidey-senses or something. like magic, she'll always appear right beside you when needed, and by needed i mean when you were about to trip for the second time in a row. and of course, you'd give a kiss as a thank you for "saving me in such desperate times!"
▸ she's such a tease, but only towards you. "always need me to come and save you, huh princess? what would you ever do without me," and she'll do it in the softest, most giggly tone ever, you can't do anything but blush and stare.
▸ her reflexes are quick and precise. i mean, she is a former sergeant. she's very humble about it, she'll brush it off as if its just light work, and it'll leave you in complete disbelief. (also, she secretly loves it when you compliment her about this).
▸ she isn't the biggest on PDA, but when you slip in public and she catches you by the waist? that's just an excuse for her to kiss you cinematically.
▸ she always holds your hand though. no matter where you two were going, her hand is always intertwined with yours. and bonus points, it helps you from bumping into strangers, and helps you calm down sometimes!
▸ she'll guide you through crowds.
▸ she's so sweet, like a literal angel. if you get bruises from accidentally bumping or hitting into something, she'll patch it up for you. that also means her apartment is stocked in first aid kits and ice packs.
▸ some days, you two stay up scrubbing away coffee stains from clothes. she never makes you feel bad at all. she's very good with her words, she always makes sure you know that it's all okay and she reassures you a lot.
▸ people rarely call out your clumsiness, but when they do, and it comes out as mean or insulting. hyun-ju is ready to defend you, and i KNOW nobody can beat her in an argument.
▸ if you felt overwhelmed, frustrated, or pressured, and it leads you to dropping things or messing up, hyun-ju's there to make sure you ease off.
▸ she's really caring, she'll never mind your clumsiness.
▸ "hyun-ju, this is the second cup i've broke, it's not okay! it's not normal to be constantly breaking things!" — "i know, i know," she'll hold your hands gently, "accidents happen, it can happen more than once. i understand your frustration, okay? you just, gotta slow down, we'll learn together, yeah?"
#cho hyunju#cho hyun ju#cho hyun-ju#cho hyunju x reader#cho hyun ju x reader#hyunju#hyun ju#hyun-ju#hyunju x reader#squid game cho hyunju#player 120#player 120 x reader#squid game#squid game 2#squid game 2 spoilers#squid game season 2#squid game s2#squid game spoilers#squid game x y/n#squid game x you#squid game x reader#squid game headcanons#squid game fanfic#squid game fluff#hyun ju squid game#hyun ju x reader
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Angry Little Wolverines
Logan Howlett • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Speak to Animals/Mind Reader for Animals] • Have you even seen a Wolverine before? • SFW • TW: Minor injuries
“Okay, you’re called the Wolverine. Have you ever seen one before?” Y/N scoffs when questioning Logan as he was left speechless given it was indeed true. He’s never seen one before. “Jeez, Logan! You can’t take their whole style and not know what they look like”
“I didn’t name myself! How the fuck am I supposed to instantly know what they look like?”
“You lose your memory. Find out you’re named Wolverine…you weren’t curious?”
All the man did was shrug to such, making his partner scoff at him again before heading toward the garages promoting him to quickly follow in confusion.
“Where are we going?”
“To the worse place in the world” Y/N snatches the keys to his truck off the hook. “The zoo”
“How is that—-“ Logan stopped himself when she whipped her head quickly back at him in anger. “Right. Animal captivity. But why go if you hate it there so much?”
“Because I’m not driving all the way to western Canada to find wolverines in their natural habitats. Plus…”
“We ain’t doing a prison break. The cops are still pissed last time”
“UGH fine” Y/N sighs, opening the drivers side and letting herself in while Logan got in on his side.
The drive was pretty quick given Y/N went on and on about wolverine facts.
Did you know that the scientific name for wolverines is Gulo gulo and it comes from the Latin word glutton?
They average around a weight of 30-50 pounds and can take on grizzlies!
Wolverines chirp and coo at their young maybe that’s why you have a softer tone with Marie compared to everyone else
Not a part of the wolves family! Weasels actually
And she went on and on, Logan found himself irked in the beginning but eventually ease into the comforting rambling that came from Y/N about the creature.
Once they arrived at the zoo, Y/N couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed when they arrived given she could hear everything the animals were talking about. More specifically what they were complaining about. Logan expected to go straight to the wolverines but stuck by Y/N as she went to every animal talking to them to make them feel a bit better.
That stupid child wouldn’t stop tapping the viewing glass! The lioness roared at Y/N from the exposed area of the enclosure as she instantly turned to glare at said kid only for Logan to block her gaze.
“Are you going to fight a kid?”
“I will if I must!”
“Fight the parents instead, sweetheart. But also let’s not get kicked out of the zoo before we see this animal that shares my name”
Your boyfriend is the Wolverine? Another lioness came up to her friend on the perch, chirping at Y/N as she nods. Resulting in a huff from the lioness. Do you know what the exhibit has?
That brought a bit of anxiety to Y/N as her tensed posture made Logan instantly wrap an arm around her shoulders to ease some of it.
Even if the worry was toward nothing once it revealed the few signs at the wolverines enclosure that “There’s a hero named after us” and has images of Logan that he didn’t even know was taken of him.
“Least the rest of the world knows what wolverines are, Wolverine”
Logan scoffs as he watches Y/N approach the railing, she leans over to find a few wolverines huddled around something.
Need to escape
Need to escape
Baby doesn’t deserve this
Baby needs to escape
Let’s just say, Logan shouldn’t have turned away when he heard some bird cawing in a different part of the zoo.
“Well now I know what they look like and I should change my name”
“No! You’re a hero to them too yknow” Y/N gave him a soft smile as she sits in the passengers seat this time around, holding her chest for a moment that concerned Logan until it started to move. “What?”
“…You gotta stop reading their minds”
“What are you even talking about?!”
Logan squints at her leaning back in his seat crossing his arms. “They have a baby, a baby doesn’t deserve to live in captivity!” He repeats her words back at her, same words she uttered when they left the enclosure and INSTANTLY left the zoo. “Charles isn’t going to let you keep it”
“Well he can argue with me til he’s blue in the face!” Y/N opened the first few buttons of the flannel she wore to reveal the wolverine cub. “You can’t blame me!”
“This is kidnapping!”
“Not when the parents consented and helped me get the baby!”
“HOW DID YOU EVEN GET THE CUB OUT?!”
Angy The small cub started to growl at Logan, only for the man to growl back resulting in the baby hiding in her shirt.
“DONT BE MEAN TO OUR BABY!”
Logan face palms to such, but to her surprise, he started the car and started the drive back to the mansion.
Someone else can argue with her about whether to keep it or not…and to make sure zoo security doesn’t ban her.
#logan howlett#hugh jackman#wolverine#x men#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fanfiction#brokenmutations
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Thank you so much for the kind words on my last fic. It's really appreciated. Thank you to @helen-with-an-a for being amazing and proofreading. Hope you enjoy and requests are open. Please send in ideas.
Hard questions
Mapí León was perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes showing her exhaustion after a long day of practice. Fresh from a shower, her damp hair was wrapped in a towel when Clara burst into the room, her little face beaming with excitement.
“Mamí!” Clara exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “I saw a picture of you in your Spain jersey at school today! You looked so happy, like me when I play football with you and all my tias. When do I get to play with them again? Why don’t you play for Spain anymore, do you not love Spain?
Mapí paused, Clara was in the stage of asking questions constantly, but this question hung in the air like a heavy cloud. She had anticipated this moment. Clara was getting old enough to ask tough questions—ones that carried a lot of history, choices, and feelings that Mapí had kept to herself but she hadn’t expected this question just yet.
For a brief moment, Mapí was silent, just gazing at her daughter, who was looking back at her with wide, innocent eyes, eager for a response.
“Clara, honey,” Mapí began gently, pulling her onto her lap, “It’s not that I don’t love playing for Spain anymore. I’ve always loved it. I still do.”
Clara tilted her head, clearly puzzled. “Then why don’t you play with my tias? You’re the best player! Tia Ale plays for Spain, so does Aita, Patri, Jana and Irene. All the girls play for a country there's a lot of countries more than just Spain. It's so cool. ”
Mapí let out a soft laugh, gently pushing a lock of hair away from Clara’s forehead. “You know, being the best doesn’t always cut it. Football is more than just skills—it’s about the teammates, the environment, and how you feel … on the inside.”
Clara looked puzzled, her little brain trying to process the information. “But … but you’re amazing, Mamí! You helped Spain win! Why wouldn’t they want you anymore?”
Mapí felt a weight in her chest. She had kept the real reasons for stepping back from the national team to herself, not wanting to overwhelm Clara with the complicated details. But now, her daughter deserved honesty, even if it was tough to share.
“Sometimes, Clara,” Mapí said, her voice thick with feeling, “sometimes the people in charge don’t treat you the way you should be treated. They don’t do their jobs properly and might end up hurting people. They might not recognise your worth. And when you feel that way for too long, it gets hard to keep going. When something like that happens, iIt hurts. And when something hurts, you have to think about what’s best for you.”
Clara paused, clearly processing everything. Mapí could see the little gears working in her brain. “So... you left … because they were … mean? … to you?”
Mapí gazed into her daughter’s eyes, so similar to her own, feeling a pang in her heart. “Sí carino, something like that. But it’s not just about being nice. It’s about feeling valued and … and being respected. Football is all about teamwork, but it is also based on trust and support. When those things are missing, it gets really tough to keep playing.”
Clara seemed to ponder this for a while, a little crinkle forming in her brow. Finally, she asked, “Are you going to go back?”
Mapí offered a gentle smile, a blend of sadness and hope shining in her eyes. “I’m not sure, nena. Sometimes, people need a little time to heal before they can return to something and sometimes you have to step away so the changes that need to be made can happen. Right now, I’m focusing on Barça and making sure I’m in a good place, where I can be the best version of myself … the best Mamí I can be for you. I can’t promise I’ll ever play for Spain again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the game or my country. I do. Always.”
Clara looked up at her mom, her tiny hands resting on Mapí’s arm. “I want you to play for Spain again. I want to see you in the jersey.”
Mapí’s heart warmed, her daughter’s words reminding her of the love that kept her going every day. “Maybe one day, pequeña. Maybe one day.”
The room fell silent for a moment, the heaviness of their talk hanging in the air. Mapi realised that Clara didn’t grasp everything completely, but she could see the love and hope shining in her daughter’s eyes. And honestly, that was enough for now.
With a gentle kiss on Clara’s forehead, Mapí pulled her in for a tight hug. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my biggest supporter. That’s what really counts.”
Clara beamed, resting her head on her mom’s shoulder. “I’ll always cheer for you, Mamí. Forever.”
#womens football#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso one shot#woso soccer#mapi leon#barca femeni#mapi leon x reader#woso x reader
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ALASTOR X READER WHERE READER sorry i’m typing in all caps and didn’t realize—where reader has been Alastor’s partner for a long time and for the first time was caught having a breakdown because she was hurt by (person of choice) mentally and for the first time ever…alastor comforts her physically—cuddles hugs and kisses. FLUFLFUFLFIFFF and angst but…it’s okay if you can’t write it this has just been on my mind a lot 🤭
When the World’s Too Loud
Notes: i opened my request box not too long ago and why did y’all FLOOD me with asks lmao i’m so excited. anyway, i kinda self projected on this one. sorry if it’s a bit short. it’s based off of my own experiences with too much sound resulting in a sensory overload and just in general feeling like i’m annoying and oversensitive to every little problem i’m faced. also, my snake just gave me the NASTIEST side eye.
Synopsis: Reader comes home from an unpleasant experience at a restaurant when Alastor surprises them with a method of comfort he’d rarely used before—physical touch.
CW: sensory overload (hyperacusis/misophonia), head bashing, self-deprecating thoughts, hair pulling, alastor has a tail because the whole fandom loves it
Word Count: 1507
Teeth gritted. Hands ripping hair. Tears streaming down my face.
I felt like I was suffocating, as I often do in these moments. Like a child throwing a tantrum.
I feel like I’m a little kid. I’m a stupid little kid, I repeated to myself, my wrists banging onto my head as if it would rid me of the thoughts.
It wasn’t anything big. At least, it felt like it shouldn’t have been anything detrimental. All it was was a little sound. Nothing too bad right?
A little sound, but apparently it was a day where I couldn’t take it. My ears rung, and my eyes darted about in the restaurant as I tried to treat myself. A mistake.
“Excuse me, could you turn the music down a bit?” I had asked kindly.
And the waiter laughed in my face. But what could you expect in Hell?
Instead, he gathered his coworkers, and they laughed. One even turned up the volume, changing the song to something horribly bass boosted.
I gave them a shaky smile, trying to show it didn’t affect me.
But soon, the whole restaurant joined in, screaming at the tops of their lungs, hurling insults about my sensitivity, calling me weak and childish.
I thought I could stay strong, to show them that I wouldn’t give in. But I failed. In a hyperventilating panic, I rushed out of the restaurant and back to the Hazbin Hotel.
Now every little sound bothered me. The creaking walls too much, the shuffle of bedsheets too loud. I pulled at my ears, trying to make it all stop.
I let out labored breaths as I clawed at my face, my eyes wide and fearful.
Everyone is out to get you, a little voice told me. And for a good reason. You’re too sensitive for this place.
I let out a choked sob, curling into myself on the bed.
Weak. Like a child. Can’t even control yourself.
I let out a silent scream.
Control yourself!
The sound of the door opening was deafeningly loud to my ears. I sobbed, hiding my head beneath my hands.
Just make it stop.
Static followed the intrusion, and I clawed at my ears.
“Make it stop!” I growled harshly, fingers tearing at my hair.
The static stopped abruptly, along with the sound of nearing footsteps. I allowed myself to breathe for a moment, grateful for the quiet.
I let out a shuddering breath as the footsteps resumed their journey towards me. Breathe in, breathe out.
He finally reached the bed, taking a tentative seat next to me. I paid him no mind until he laid a hand on my shoulder.
“My dear.”
I felt a growl rising in me, still too overwhelmed by noise.
“Are you alr—”
“Shut up!” I snapped, glaring at him.
Alastor retracted his hand, his brows furrowing in concern. I immediately felt guilty, my tears returning.
I buried my face in my hands. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “The world’s too loud right now.”
He smiled at me sadly, gently removing my hands from my face.
“Darling,” Alastor said softly. “Look at me.”
I sniffled and dared to glance at him, my eyes puffy and wet.
He brushed away some tears gently. “Is there anything I can do to ease your pain?”
My brow furrowed. Physical contact would be ideal. But…I knew Alastor wasn’t too fond of it, and I didn’t want to burden him. He’d never seen me this bad before.
I looked away from him. “Probably not,” I whimpered, my fingers itching to touch him.
Alastor gave me a knowing look. “Are you sure, my dear?”
I paused. “Yes?” I squeaked.
He let out a soft laugh, opting to shift closer to me on the bed rather than speak. I was caught off guard when I felt him scoop me into his arms and lay me on his lap.
Alastor nuzzled his head into my hair. “You needn’t be afraid to ask me for comfort in troubling times,” he whispered. “Physical touch may not be my strong suit, but it’s easier with you.”
I felt tears well in my eyes as I took in his sweet words, droplets falling down my lashes and onto his coat as I clutched him.
He stroked my back gently. “What’s got you all out of sorts today, sha?”
I sucked in a breath. “I,” I hiccuped, “I was at a restaurant and I just—I don’t know, the music was too loud. Everything’s too loud.”
I let out a sob into his shoulder, clutching onto him.
He kissed my hairline lightly before resting his chin on my head. “Shh, my darling. You’re alright. It’s quiet here.”
I sniffled into his shirt. “They—they made fun of me and I just…I just ran.”
Alastor stiffened. “Who did?” he asked menacingly.
“The waiter,” I responded weakly. “And his coworkers. They turned it up louder.”
I could feel Alastor bristle at the revelation, a dark aura surrounding him. A growl emanated from his body, and he shifted to get up. “I’ll be back.”
“No!” I cried, pulling him closer. “Stay. Please stay.”
He looked down at me, fondness clouding his gaze as he settled back in. “Of course. These are matters we can settle later.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, snuggling back into his shoulder.
“Anything for you, my dear,” he promised, threading his claws through my hair, detangling the strands as he went. His other hand fell to my waist, pulling me closer to him as he left a light kiss on my forehead.
“Do you know why your sensitivity was so bad today?” Alastor asked softly.
I shrugged.
He hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me, dear?” he questioned sincerely. “I could see sometimes you’d get overwhelmed, but not to this extent. Had I known you had a bigger problem with this than most, I would’ve…”
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I just. I know the best way to comfort me when I’m overstimulated is physical touch and I…didn’t want to make you do anything you didn’t want to.”
“Oh, my dear,” Alastor said sadly, pulling away slightly so he could look at me. “Nothing is too much when it comes to you. I live to serve.”
Tears welled in my eyes once more as he brought a clawed hand—hands so good at bringing pain and suffering—to cradle my cheek softly, his usually guarded gaze now soft and loving, a look only I would ever have the privilege of seeing on the Radio Demon.
I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall again as I closed my hand around his, nuzzling into the warmth.
He kissed my eyelids softly, moving to give featherlight pecks on both cheeks, my nose, my forehead, and finally, my lips. My other hand came to rest on his face, pulling him closer in the kiss.
“Your struggles to do not scare me, my love,” Alastor whispered as he pulled away. “I’m here for you in every way that you need me. Don’t ever think I would reject your needs to favor my own comfort.”
My breath hitched, moved by his heartfelt words. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, though,” I protested.
“Sha,” Alastor argued. “I…I enjoy holding you more than I care to admit.”
I looked up at him with glassy eyes. “Really?”
His eyes averted mine, his ears folding down. “Yes,” he murmured. “But don’t tell anyone.”
I giggled. “I won’t.” I snuggled back into him, letting out a long, content sigh.
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I never meant to give off the impression that I was unapproachable during difficult times. Or any times, really.”
I hummed. “It’s alright,” I responded. “I know it’s not easy for you.”
Another low chuckle. “Well,” Alastor mused, picking up a strand of my hair and letting it fall down again. “You certainly make physical contact easier. Dare I say, enjoyable.”
I snorted. “Haha,” I deadpanned sarcastically.
“Sincerely, my dear,” he laughed softly. “I find it pleasant to be in contact with you, unlike with others. It’s…a nice feeling.”
My heart swelled. “I’m glad I can maybe be a safe place for you then.”
He grinned into my hair. “You are, my dear. And I hope I can provide that for you as well?”
I nuzzled my face into his chest. “More than you know.”
The rest of the afternoon was spent in each other’s company, little kisses and giggles exchanged. A hand on my waist, bringing me closer to Alastor as we settled down in the bed. His face rested in the crook of my neck, and I could almost swear I heard the faint thumping of his tail hitting the bed as he smiled into my shoulder. He stroked my waist with a claw, careful and light as he always was with me. There was a small kiss to my neck as I drifted into a peaceful, quiet sleep.
The restaurant was decimated the next morning.
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do you feel the same way i do about you?
성훈 x fmr genre: angst warns: cursing, shit talking, alcohol/drinking, unrequited love, parties, not proofread
Sunghoon is your best friend. Someone you’ve gone through hard times with, someone who’s always been there for you. It was easy for you to catch feelings, but it was also just as easy to hide them away.
The one thing people always say about you and Sunghoon is that you’re so different it’s almost comical. He’s loud and cheerful, albeit around people he’s comfortable with, while you’re quiet and shy with practically everyone, even him.
You’ve tried over the years to branch out and make more friends, but you always find yourself falling short and just missing the mark.
But Sunghoon, he’s never made you feel bad about your personality, if anything he’s allowed you to embrace it.
Which is why when he convinced you to go to a party with him, he was as shocked as you were.
You don’t go to parties, they’re just not for you. But Sunghoon said this one would be good and a chance for you to make more friends.
He wanted to introduce you to his other friends, the ones he’s made at your college.
You were hesitant but decided it might be worth it in the end.
Only problem is, you don’t have party worthy clothes. Your style is basic, you wear jeans and sweaters on most occasions because you prefer comfort over anything else.
When you tell Sunghoon this, he urges you not to worry about it, saying he’ll handle it.
What exactly does that mean? Buying you the skimpiest outfit he could find.
The dress is short, barely covers your ass and your chest is nearly exposed.
“Sunghoon, I don’t think this is for me,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror.
You did your own hair and makeup, although barely any, and the outfit was the final touch.
You don’t look like you.
“Are you kidding? You look great!” He says, enthusiastic as ever.
“I just… I don't look like myself, you know? I feel weird.”
“I promise, everything will be fine. I know you’re stepping out of your comfort zone for me, and I really appreciate it. This is just part of it.”
Sunghoon, ever the sweet talker, smiles when you nod.
“Okay, let’s go.”
The drive isn’t far, it’s being hosted by Sunghoon’s friend Jay.
When you say the house is gigantic, you mean it.
Your one bedroom is more like a studio compared to it.
Your nerves start to get the better of you, and you almost don’t want to get out of the car.
Sunghoon opens the passenger door for you, holding out a hand, “Come on.”
You take it, and he leads you up the steps and straight inside, not even bothering to knock.
Then again, why would he have to? It’s a party for god's sake.
He leads you through a wave of bodies until you reach the kitchen.
6 other guys are standing there and Sunghoon greets them eagerly.
You can’t help but stand there awkwardly, twiddling your fingers and looking down at the ground.
“Guys, this is Y/N, my best friend,” Sunghoon says as he begins to point at everyone, “Y/N this is Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunoo, Jungwon and Riki.”
You wave at them, giving a shy smile as they all greet you.
“You didn’t tell us how pretty she is, Sunghoon,” Heeseung says, raising an eyebrow.
Sunghoon scoffs, “Yeah yeah, don’t overwhelm her, this isn’t her type of thing.”
He grabs two beers from the fridge, opening them and handing you one.
You sip it gently, souring at the taste. You’re not a big drinker either.
It’s not long before Sunghoon effectively abandons you.
He dragged you to the dance floor one minute, then the next he was gone.
You don’t know why, but something is telling you to head upstairs.
It’s there you hear your name coming from a bedroom with the door slightly ajar.
“Why didn’t you introduce us to Y/N sooner?” You barely recognize Heeseung’s voice amongst all the noise coming from downstairs.
You certainly recognize Sunghoon as the next person to speak, “Parties aren’t her thing, I told you that.”
“We’ve been in college for 4 years though. This is the first time you’ve gotten her to come to one?”
“What else can I say? She’s a stick in the mud.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say about your best friend,” Sunoo speaks up.
“I know, but it’s true. She’s kind and all but she’s so shy and closed off that she can’t make friends. The only reason we really became friends is because our parents pushed us to be close.”
Ouch.
“So you’re friends with her out of pity?” Riki asks.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Sunghoon retorts, “she’s sweet and I appreciate having her as a friend but she’s kinda boring and our personalities don’t really match at all. If it weren’t for our parents, we probably wouldn’t be friends at all.”
“That’s harsh, man,” Jake pipes up.
“I know, I just…don’t know how else to describe her.”
You’ve never felt genuine heartbreak. Not until this moment.
So this is how he feels about you? The best friend you thought accepted you for who you are, truly just…tolerates you?
Has he always felt this way? Has he only kept you as a friend out of pity?
You never thought of yourself as less than when it came to Sunghoon, but now, you’re doubting everything you thought you knew.
As tears gather in your eyes, you turn around making your way back downstairs and out the front door.
You call yourself an uber and go home, crying silently in the back seat of this stranger's car.
Once you make it inside your apartment, you take the heels Sunghoon bought off, thank god because they were killing your feet.
Heading into your bedroom, you look at yourself in the mirror again. The girl glaring back at you, isn’t you. She’s what Sunghoon wants you to be, but clearly you can’t give him that.
You almost tear the dress as you’re taking it off, and change into sweats and a t-shirt.
As you lay in bed, you think back on your years with Sunghoon.
All the time he tried to convince you to do things with him, all the times you tried. All the times you asked him to do something with you and all the times he declined because they “weren’t his style.”
Has it really always been like this? You, trying to be different for Sunghoon, but Sunghoon, never trying for you?
Suddenly you feel humiliated.
Humiliated at the fact that your friendship with Sunghoon has all been a fluke.
You’ve always accepted Sunghoon for who he is. Yet, he never truly did the same for you.
Your phone buzzes beside you, Sunghoon’s contact coming up with a text.
‘Where are you?’ It says.
You don’t bother answering, instead, putting your phone on the charger and turning it off.
You fall asleep with your eyes swollen and heart broken.
When you turn your phone on the next morning, it’s full of texts from Sunghoon.
You, again, don’t bother answering. You’re disgusted by last night's events.
You don’t have class thankfully, so you lounge around in your pajamas all morning.
It’s not until noon when there’s a knock at your door.
You mentally slap yourself for not checking the peephole, because once you open it, you regret it.
Sunghoon stands there, an evident frown on his face.
“Why haven’t you answered my texts?” He says, immediately.
You feel snappy, like the word nice is not in your vocabulary at the moment.
“Can I be honest? I didn’t want to talk to you.”
Sunghoon’s face furrows, “Why? What’d I do?”
You just begin to laugh. You don’t know if it’s the leftover pain morphing into anger or the fact that you’re tired.
“Why are you here Sunghoon? I don’t need your pity, not anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
Then, you’re shouting, “I heard you last night! You’re friends with me out of fucking pity and I’m honestly disgusted!”
Sunghoon’s face morphs from confusion to shock.
“I…you heard me?”
“I did.” You nod, “And honestly, if you were so fucking bored of me, you should’ve just ended the ‘friendship’ instead of dragging it along like this.”
“Y/N I…I didn’t mean any of that��,”
“Yes you did! You did because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have said it.”
There’s nothing but silence from his end, like he’s trying to process everything while you’ve already caught up.
You can feel tears pricking your eyes again and damn if it isn’t embarrassing to cry in front of him, but at this point, you don’t care.
“You know what hurts the most?” You ask as Sunghoon looks up, into your eyes.
“The fact that I did so much for you. You wanted to go out? Fine. You wanted me to put myself out there in a place I was totally out of place at? Fine. So many times I made myself uncomfortable for you. But the very few times I asked you to do something with me, for me, you always said no. It wasn’t your thing. Do you realize how fucking pathetic I feel knowing my friendship was so one-sided?”
Sunghoon doesn’t say a word, tears gathering in his own eyes. “I’m sorry.”
You nod, “I’m sorry too. Sorry that we both wasted our time. Sorry, that I ever had feelings for you. Consider this ‘friendship’ over, Sunghoon.”
With that, you close the door in his face, locking it before letting yourself break.
You settle on your couch, curling into a ball, clutching a pillow as you cry.
There’s a few stray knocks, but he eventually leaves.
WONKIZZ 2025
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It would take place in a setting where the triplets are together (their bday, a party, or even at their house) and reader would be either chris or matt’s gf but then also there is nicks bf, or the others ones gf. Idk if it’s just me but I feel like the reader is always just with one of them and then the other two triplets are there but we don’t see the gf’s (or nick’s bf) ever interacting. Idk if that made sense tbh
hope you like it!! <33
three's a party — sturniolo triplets
The Sturniolo triplets’ house was alive with music, laughter, and the faint smell of birthday cake. The living room was decked out with balloons—blue, black, and silver scattered across the floor—and a “Happy Birthday” banner hung crookedly across the mantle.
Y/N, Olivia, and Jake were huddled in the kitchen, each clutching plastic cups of soda as they surveyed the chaos unfolding in the main room.
“Okay, I love them, but they are so bad at hosting parties,” Olivia said, sipping her drink.
Jake snorted. “Chris has been talking to the same guy about sneakers for thirty minutes, Nick disappeared somewhere upstairs, and Matt—”
“Is stress-eating chips in the corner,” Y/N finished, pointing across the room where Matt was leaning against the wall with a party-size bag of Doritos, looking mildly overwhelmed.
The three of them burst into laughter before Y/N nudged Olivia’s shoulder. “Should we, like… intervene? Help them with their own party?”
Olivia shrugged. “Or we could just sit back, drink our sodas, and watch the chaos unfold. Like, free entertainment, honestly.”
Jake nodded, raising his cup. “To the most disorganized birthday party of all time.”
They clinked their plastic cups together before a loud voice cut through the noise.
“Y/N! Jake! Olivia!”
Chris appeared, slightly out of breath, dragging Matt and Nick behind him. Matt still had the Doritos in hand, and Nick was holding a party hat over his face like a mask.
“You three are criminally hiding in the kitchen while we suffer out there,” Chris said dramatically, waving an arm toward the crowded living room.
“We’re just letting you shine on your special day, Chris,” Jake said sweetly, batting his lashes.
Nick peeked out from behind the party hat. “Nope, you’re coming with us. Dance floor. Now.”
The six of them had somehow taken over the little makeshift dance floor. Someone had queued up an early 2000s throwback playlist, and chaos was the only way to describe what was happening.
Jake and Nick were in the middle of a dance-off, both pulling out the worst—and most impressive—dad dance moves anyone had ever seen. Chris and Olivia were scream-singing the chorus of “Mr. Brightside” into invisible microphones. Matt had pulled Y/N into an awkward slow dance, despite the upbeat tempo of the song.
“Matt, this is not a slow song,” Y/N said, laughing as he spun her in an exaggerated circle.
“Every song can be a slow song if you believe hard enough,” Matt replied, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Meanwhile, Olivia grabbed Jake’s hand and dramatically dipped him backward, almost causing both of them to collapse to the floor.
“Okay, okay, time out!” Nick shouted, waving his arms. “We’re gonna break something—and by something, I mean Jake’s spine.”
The triplets sat at the dining table in front of their birthday cake, three candles glowing softly in the dimmed light. Y/N, Olivia, and Jake stood behind them like proud parents at a kindergarten recital.
“Make a wish!” Olivia said, clapping her hands together.
Chris squinted at the cake. “Are we supposed to make three wishes? Or one collective triplet wish?”
Nick shrugged. “Let’s each pick one. I call dibs on the first wish.”
Matt sighed. “Why do you always get the first wish?”
“You didn’t call dibs fast enough, buddy,” Nick said with a shrug.
After an unnecessarily long argument about wish etiquette (and Jake nearly blowing out the candles himself just to end the chaos), the triplets finally leaned forward and blew out the candles together.
Y/N grabbed a knife. “Alright, who wants the first slice?”
Chris opened his mouth to volunteer, but Jake snatched the knife from Y/N with a gasp.
“Wait, we have to do the thing!”
“What thing?” Olivia asked, raising a brow.
“The thing where you feed your significant other cake all cute-like.” Jake winked dramatically at Nick, who immediately started laughing.
“Oh my God,” Matt muttered, covering his face with one hand.
But the three couples obliged, with Jake smearing frosting on Nick’s nose, Olivia delicately feeding Chris a bite, and Y/N holding out a forkful of cake for Matt—only for him to lean forward and eat it straight off the fork without breaking eye contact.
“Romance is alive,” Chris said dryly, clapping sarcastically.
The party had dwindled down, most guests had left, and the house was a mess of streamers, empty cups, and forgotten party hats. The six of them were sprawled across the couch and armchairs, half-asleep but content.
“Successful birthday party?” Y/N asked softly, her head resting on Matt’s shoulder.
“Messy, loud, chaotic… yeah, I’d say it was perfect,” Chris said, his head thrown back against the couch. Olivia was curled up beside him, her eyes half-closed.
Jake was draped across Nick like a weighted blanket, mumbling something incoherent about being too tired to move.
Nick yawned and stretched an arm out. “Best party ever, honestly. Mostly because of you three.”
Y/N, Olivia, and Jake exchanged tired smiles.
“Happy birthday, guys,” Y/N said softly.
“Yeah, happy birthday, triplets,” Jake echoed.
Chris, Nick, and Matt all murmured their thanks before falling into a comfortable silence.
The living room was messy, the cake was mostly gone, and the playlist was still quietly playing in the background. But in that little bubble of warmth and friendship, everything felt perfect.
tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim, @courta13
#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo#spotify#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo imagine#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets x reader#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew bernard sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#the sturniolos
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If You Talk In Your Sleep
Chapter 1
A/N: I wouldn't be me if I only wrote one series at a time. So here is Elvis x reader in Vegas in 1969. It's going to get dramatic, so hang on tight, friends. Hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: 18+ minors absolutely DNI, smut, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also a tad bit of angst and mentions of domestic violence (not Elvis)
Word count: ~3.8k
The only thing that glitters more than Las Vegas in 1969 is you. Your dress, your shoes, the insane amount of jewelry you're wearing, even your purse shimmers under the lights. It's almost like you're trying to catch someone's attention. And truthfully, you are. Your husband is a cruel man and although he keeps you dripping in diamonds, you'd be lying if you said you weren't lonely. He's what they call a “Casino Boss”. You're not exactly sure what that means, but you know it's hard and violent. It must be pretty stressful too because he yells at you constantly. He's never hit you, but he has pushed you and grabbed your face and you do everything in your power to keep him happy. Despite his anger issues, he swears that he loves you more than life itself, so he always comes back to you with presents after he's particularly harsh. Still, you're tired of it. Tired of walking on eggshells. And as much as he says he loves you, it's more like he loves the idea of you. He never listens to you or treats you like anything beyond a pretty little trophy that he can smother in jewelry and ignore. It's not an ideal existence, but what can you do?
Most nights you dress to the nines and sit somewhere in a casino waiting for someone to see you. In the beginning, your husband made you come to work with him, but as time has passed, he wants you near him less and less. You're not sure if he's messing around or if he's just secure in the fact that you aren't going anywhere, but you spend most of your time alone. Men approach you all the time, but they've never been interesting enough to tempt you into anything dangerous.
Tonight, you sit here in a gold dress, your hair in big waves as it cascades down your shoulders. You swirl a straw in your drink and take a sip, bored. It feels like you might suffocate if you sit here for another second, so you stand up and walk away, headed for a back door to get some air. As you walk, the reality of your life overwhelms you, you feel the tears start to gather, and by the time you make it outside, they're running down your face. You wrap your arms around yourself and sob. It's cold in the desert at night and the emptiness is overwhelming.
Elvis sits at the blackjack table surrounded by pretty girls and all of his best friends. But even with all the company, he stares at his cards and soaks in the loneliness. His career has finally started to take off again and on stage he feels like he's found himself. But when he's not on stage, he feels trapped. Trapped by a marriage he didn't really want, forced into curated friendships with people that seem to like their paychecks more than they like him. He somehow feels completely unseen, despite the constant attention.
“Sir…?” The dealer asks him hesitantly. He shakes his head and slides his cards forward. Then he stands up and half of the men at the table stand up too.
“Where we goin’, boss?” Several of the girls stroke him and whine that he's leaving so soon. Their hands feel cold and all he sees is dollar signs in their eyes.
“Bathroom. Don't follow me.” He turns from the table and walks away. Several of the men try to and he dismisses them. He heads down a hallway, but doesn't turn into the restroom. Instead, he heads for a door to the outside. He doesn't even care if he'll be able to get back in as he pushes it open aggressively and steps out into the darkness.
You try to wipe your eyes and fade into the shadows, praying he won't see you. But of course he does.
“Oh, honey, I'm sorry. Is this spot taken?” He smirks playfully and then notices your face. His eyebrows come together in concern and he takes a step closer. “You okay?”
“Oh, I'm just peachy.” You shiver and wish you had a cigarette. He pulls a cigar out of his pocket and lights it, watching you closely.
“You don't look peachy. I mean, you look beautiful, but not happy.” He takes a drag from the cigar and you look into his face. You know who he is, but you're not in the mood to acknowledge his celebrity status. You need a human.
“Well, thank you. But no, I'm not happy.” As you say it, more tears slip down your cheeks. His heart breaks a little for you and he reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out a white handkerchief with “EP” embroidered on it in dark blue.
“Here, doll.” You take it and dab at your eyes and he notices how you shiver. He has a thought to take his jacket off, but he can't. “I'd give you my coat, honey, but I've got nothing on under it. Here. C’mere.”
He holds the cigar in his teeth and reaches for you, running his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to warm you up.
“That better?” You smile a little, but you're still freezing.
“Thanks.”
“I'm Elvis.” He smiles and holds his cigar in his fingers as he continues rubbing on your arms.
“You don't say.” You giggle and he chuckles. Then, emboldened by your drinks and the privacy of your location, you gesture to his cigar with your head. “Can I get some of that?”
His eyes widen in surprise, but he nods.
“Sure, honey.” He hands it to you and watches as you take a few drags and exhale slowly. After you do, you shiver again and he clicks his tongue. “You're still freezing.”
He flicks the cigar, there wasn't much left anyway, and unbuttons his jacket. When he holds it open for you, exposing his naked upper half underneath, you blink several times.
“Get in here. I'm warm, I promise.” You look at him in awe and wonder if he's noticed the ring on your hand. It's 7 carats, so it's hard to ignore. “I won't bite ya, honey.”
You look around and realize that no one would ever know. Then, you decide you don't care if they do and step towards him, sliding your arms around his waist. He wraps the jacket and himself around you.
“Ain't that better?” You nod against his chest. He really is warm and it feels so nice to have him around you like this. Add to that the way he smells and you're practically swooning. “You wanna tell me what's got you so upset?”
You take a deep breath and try to decide what you should say.
“I really don't.” He nods and looks down at you.
“I understand that, honey. Better than you know.” For a minute it looks like he's going to kiss you, but he doesn't. Instead, he sighs deeply. “I should go back inside.”
You nod and start to pull away from him, but he squeezes you tighter.
“Just a second. This is nice.” He doesn't say how badly he needs the affection, but you can sense that he needs something from you, so you snuggle into him again. “What's your name, doll?”
You tell him and he whispers it back to you. To your utter shock, he kisses your forehead before he backs away.
“Okay. It's probably time.”
You nod and pull away as he turns back to the door. But there's no handle and he stares at it in disbelief.
“How were you plannin' on getting back in?” He asks, still looking at the door. You miss his arms around you, but you shrug.
“No idea. Hadn't thought that far.” He chuckles and then takes your hand.
“We better head around to the front of the casino.” He guides you back to the entrance of the building and then stands there with you in front of the doors. After a few beats, you pull out his handkerchief and try to hand it back to him.
“Thank you. For everything.”
“You keep it, honey.” You stand there for another couple of seconds.
“Well, I guess I should go back inside–” As you say it, his crowd of followers busts through the door and there's a flurry of activity as they fuss over him and scold him for leaving them. You think to yourself that he seems like a child being admonished for running away. When your eyes meet his, they're full of bitterness and he shrugs.
“I'm fine, y'all. Let's just go.” He calls for his car and you turn to make your way into the hotel. “Wait, honey.”
He jogs over to you at the doors and takes your hands in his.
“Come with me.”
“Elvis, I can't.”
“Why not?” You hold up your left hand for him to see your ring.
“Yeah, I saw that. Something tells me you need to take it off for the night.” He looks at you, his blue eyes piercing your soul. For a second, you wonder how he knew, and then you don't care anymore, not one bit.
“That would be nice.”
“I thought so. Come on.” He slips the ring off your finger and into his pocket and then takes your elbow, leading you towards his car. A bunch of the other guys pile in with you, but they don't say anything about the fact that you've joined them. You ride along in silence with his arm around your shoulders, his hand intertwined with yours. It doesn't take long at all to get back to the International hotel. At the elevator, the guys try to come with you expecting a party like they've had almost every night, but he shakes his head. That's all it takes for them to stay behind. Once the doors close, he turns and leans against the wall of the elevator. You know he's married too, but you hate to bring it up. Instead, you smile awkwardly.
“C’mere, honey.” He holds his arms out to you like he did behind the casino and you go to him, wrapping your arms around his waist again. You stand like that, snuggled together, until the doors slide open and he guides you into his suite with his hand on the small of your back.
“You wanna drink?” He asks, walking to a bar at the side of the room. You've never cheated on Carl before. A drink would probably help.
“Sure.”
“What do you want?”
“Whatever you have.” You hear him put ice in a glass and then pour some things in it. He brings it to you and you immediately recognize it as a screwdriver. “Thanks.”
“You're welcome, honey.” He watches as you take a small sip. “Do I make you nervous?”
“No.” You shake your head. “The situation does. But you don't really.”
He smiles warmly and then settles himself next to you on the couch.
“Please talk to me. No one ever talks to me.” He looks over at you with a look somewhere between bitter and sad.
“You have so many people–”
“They talk at me and about me. No one ever talks to me. Not really. Not about anything real.” You take another big gulp of your drink and then turn to face him, kicking your shoes off and tucking your feet up under you.
“I don't wanna be married anymore. My husband is not… nice. And I miss being a person.” He looks into your eyes with more understanding than you expected.
“My wife is cold. She wasn't before we got married, but after? She's just… cold.” You lean forward and push your fingers into his hair.
“You seem like the kind of man that needs warmth.” He nods.
“I really am. So I guess what I'm sayin’ is I understand not wantin’ to be married.” He sits in silence for a bit, reveling in the feeling of your hand in his hair. Then, he looks at you again. “Does he hurt you?”
You pull your hand back and move away, but he gently grabs you and pulls you almost into his lap.
“Sometimes. Not bad. No bruises or anything.”
“Honey, he doesn't have to leave marks on you to hurt you.” He grits his teeth a little, obviously angry that anyone could ever hurt you. “What's he do?”
“He's the Casino Boss at the Flamingo.”
“Oh.” Elvis understands that means he's dangerous. But he doesn't let go of you or anything. Instead, he buries his head in your neck and leaves soft kisses there. He continues pressing his lips to your skin, moving down your chest.
“Elvis…”
“Yes, doll?” He asks between kisses on your breasts.
“This could only ever happen once.”
“I'm not known for my faithfulness to women.” He murmurs and you take that as him understanding what can and cannot happen. You pull away from him and stand up, his eyes wide as he watches you. Then, you push the straps of your dress off of your shoulders and let it fall into a shiny pool at your feet. This leaves you in just your panties, so you turn and walk towards what you assume is the bedroom. It doesn't take him long at all to stand up and follow you. At the doorway, you turn and wrap yourself around him. He leans down and kisses you deeply.
“Tonight is a vacation.” You whisper.
“Viva Las Vegas…” He whispers in return before grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you into his arms. You whimper as he carries you to the bed and lays you down on the satin sheets. His jacket and pants are off before you even know what's happening and then he's on top of you, pressing his lips to every inch of you that he can reach.
His mouth finds your nipple and he teases it with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth. He moves to the other one and gives it the same attention. You haven't been this turned on in years and your body responds as such, making a damp spot on your panties. He continues to kiss down your body and then rolls your underwear down your legs and off, leaving you completely exposed to him.
“Need to taste you, doll.” He moans softly, dropping hot kisses on your hips and thighs. You spread your legs for him and he groans at the sight of your glistening pussy. He settles his body into the space between your open thighs and teases your slit with his fingertip. “So wet for me, honey. Such a pretty pussy.”
Two fingers slide inside you and you gasp at the sensation. When he lowers his mouth to your clit and begins to lick you, you damn-near pass out. Carl hasn't gone down on you since before you were married. And even when he did, he wasn't this caring or skilled.
“Oh God, Elvis…” You moan, your hand grasping the front of his hair.
“That's it, baby. Let me give you what you need.” He growls against your sensitive flesh and you tremble with desire. You feel the edges of your orgasm as it starts to approach.
“I'm gonna cum…” You whimper and roll your hips against his face as he eats you. He groans and nods, looking up at you with his face buried in your pussy. His tongue moves so fast that you'd swear it was detached from his body. But it's not and the delicious sensation of him working you with his tongue has you so close you can almost taste it. “Fuck! Elvis!”
You scream as your climax washes over you, filling your body with electricity as you pulse around his fingers, curled just right to hit your g-spot. He licks you until he feels you relax and then pulls back, his lips and chin shiny with your arousal.
“You taste like heaven, doll.” He whispers as he presses his lips to your body again, rolling his hips against your thigh. His cock is rock hard where it presses into you and you moan softly when you feel it.
“I wanna make you feel good, baby.” You murmur to him as he makes it back to your mouth. He kisses you deeply as your hand trails down his chest and you take his member in your hand.
“Mmm, honey, just like that.” He moans softly as you pump him, sliding his foreskin back and forth.
“Please fuck me, Elvis. Please.” You moan and nibble on his earlobe. He groans and nods.
“That what you want, doll? You want this cock?”
“Yes, please.” He hovers over you, lining himself up with your entrance. You whimper as he slides his tip through your folds. Then, he slowly starts to push into you.
“Fuck, honey, you're so tight. Breathe for me.” You take a deep breath in an attempt to relax, but all you can think about is the fact that Carl will kill Elvis if he ever finds out about this. “You okay?”
He lifts his head up and looks down at you with his eyebrows pulled together in concern.
“I-I'm scared.” You whisper.
“Of me?” He pulls out and settles beside you.
“No. If my husband ever finds out… he'll kill you.” Elvis sighs deeply and runs his hand through his hair.
“So he won't find out. Do you not want this?” He gently runs his fingertips up and down your body as he speaks.
“I do. I really do. I'd just hate to read about you being found in a hole in the desert.” You turn your head to look at him and he smirks.
“Honey. I'm Elvis Presley. You think I'm afraid of your husband?” It dawns on you that he has no idea who he's dealing with and what it would mean for anyone to find out about you.
“Elvis, my husband is a dangerous man. And he works with a lot of dangerous men who live to beat people with baseball bats. I'm not sure you want to do this.” He moves his hand up to your cheek and looks you in the eye.
“Honey, listen to me. I'm not scared. I have a lot of bodyguards and I know how to protect myself. If you don't wanna do this, I understand, but if you do, you’re safe.” He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear and then kisses your cheek softly. There's a strange amount of intimacy between the two of you, considering you've known each other less than 6 hours. You look into his eyes and think to yourself that it's not you you're worried about. But his eyes are so reassuring that you decide you'll cross that bridge when you come to it. For now, you need him.
“I want this.” You whisper as you roll him onto his back and straddle his hips. Again, you drag the head of his cock against you and then sink down onto him. It takes a bit for you to slip all of him inside you, but it's worth it. When he fills you fully, you moan in unison, throwing your head back in pleasure. “Oh God, Elvis.”
As you begin to move on him, his hands go to your hips and he guides you, moaning. He rolls you deep and slow, rocking you back and forth like a ship on the ocean. The speed, depth, and angle of his movements have your eyes rolling back in your head.
“That's good, doll. Fuck, that's good.” He moves you on him with more speed and more pressure as he races towards his high. You feel another orgasm start to gather in your belly and lean forward onto his chest as he starts to fuck you from underneath. He punctuates each thrust with a soft moan. “Cum for me again, honey. I wanna feel you.”
It doesn't take much more for you to do exactly as he asks and tumble over the edge into another climax, your pussy squeezing him just right.
“Oh, fuck.” He fully intends to pull you off of him, as he always does with his one-night girls, but something keeps him right where he is and he cums deep inside you, his cock throbbing with his release. You relax into each other, panting and sweating and he wraps his arms around you. What is it about you that's making him like this? After several minutes in this position, you peel yourself off of him and start to get dressed. “You have to leave so quick, honey?”
You glance at the clock on the wall. It's almost three.
“My husband gets off around four. I have to be home when he gets there.” He tries not to sigh too deeply. For some reason, he had kind of hoped you'd stay and sleep with him.
“Where do you live?”
“The Flamingo. We have a suite.” He nods and watches as you put yourself back together again, walking to the living room to fetch your dress. You walk back into the bedroom fully dressed and look at him in the bed.
“Elvis, I told you. One night only. This can't be a thing.” He nods reluctantly and holds his hand out for you to walk closer and take it. You do, kissing his knuckles softly.
“I know, doll. But it was fun while it lasted.” You sit on the bed and he pulls you into his arms, not wanting to let go.
“How long are you here?” You ask quietly.
“As long as I want to be. But it doesn't matter. Does it?” He asks with a sliver of hope in his voice.
“No. It doesn't.” You stand up away from him and move towards the door. “Goodbye, Elvis.”
“Goodbye, honey.” He watches as you disappear through the bedroom door and then listens for the front door of the suite to close. He lays back, looking up at the ceiling for a while, missing you. On the street, you hail a cab and make it home just in time. You're in bed, almost asleep when you hear Carl open the front door. He doesn't disturb you, but instead gets undressed and slips under the covers. Every single part of you wishes he was Elvis and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from falling.
Back in his room, Elvis tries to go to sleep without thinking of you, but he's wildly unsuccessful. There's something about the way you seem to understand his loneliness that makes him wish he could see you again.
Still, you both lay in your respective beds trying to go to sleep. But the sun comes up on both of you still awake.
Elvis sighs deeply and drags himself out of bed, resigned to the fact that sleep is not happening. He walks to his jacket, picking it up off the floor and shaking it. Something falls out and hits the floor with a small thud.
“What the…?” He picks your ring up and holds it up to the light, a sly smile spreading across his face. Now he'll have to see you again.
******
Do we need more?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Taglist:
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#elvis presley#elvis#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis fanfic#elvis presley fic#elvis fanfiction#elvis smut#elvis fic#elvis presley smut#elvis presley x reader#elvis presley fanfic#elvis x y/n#elvis x you#elvis presley x y/n#elvis presley x you#Spotify
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LMAO i love this
Who takes it seriously:
Malleus,
Sebek (mostly the intent and will scold you for planning and also how it's too soon but does keep the plastic ring),
Silver (very serious with the intent, surprised by the spontaneity, suggests waiting until he's knighted),
Kalim (might actually start prepping stuff immediately, he's very excited but also he wants this done proper plus there's a lot to do now and people to tell)
Low-key Riddle goes here as well but it's because he gets flustered but also he still falls back on those rules and blurts out how there are steps to courtship and engagement and marriage. He's happy and takes it but also he's probably going off about rules and traditions
Who gets very flustered, doesn't necessarily take it seriously but definitely gets the affection:
Azul (send help he's living a romance novel and you're sweet with minimal pay out, will return the favor, his usual motivation of "equal payment" kinda falls flat though because of his grand gesture),
Deuce (guy is very flattered and also doesn't know how to return the gesture but you can be guaranteed he's gonna do something sweet back for you),
Idia (he's going to die of fluster and cute, talks about how he's ready and his charisma level isn't high when, very flustered, flaming pink)
Grumbles about it but will still want the ring and will still take it, likely have it on them or somewhere safe:
Jack (grumbles at you, his big tail is wagging so hard it's about to knock over stuff, probably wears it somewhere on him),
Ace (annoyingly smug and won't shut up about it, takes really good care of the plastic ring, genuinely keeps track of it and carries it, will never shut up about it, very happy),
Jamil (he's very flustered but also he is trying not to get too overwhelmed- trying to avoid by you being silly and teasing, grumbles at you to not play around, still takes it though)
Teases/jokes back, is very happy
Leona (he teases you about it while holding his hand out expectantly, unlikely to have it out and about since his dorm gets rough and he does do a lot so he has it hidden away safe),
Vil Schoenheit (gives some quips but ultimately that boils down to him saying he'll show you the way he would give a gift of promise<- he's just saying he's gonna give something back cause he liked it, keeps the ring somewhere he can see it everyday, likely does wear it when he can)
Jade leech (he's so fucking giggly forever afterwards, teases you about the spontaneity, carries it with him everywhere)
Cater diamond (it goes on his phone with his phone accessories, teases you about it, fully plays out several bits about being married but can get easily flustered at times by his own games)
"Yeah, we're married now" will roll with it and is very happy. They're going to act married now, y'all official couples now
Lilia Vanrouge
Floyd Leech
Rook hunt
All of these guys are very very happy with the sentiment, they're also the guys that are most likely to go with the flow and certainly the type to nearly instantly go along with their feelings if they think it's right or worth it. Very happy to accept the plastic ring and go along with it. Assumes y'all are together honestly.
Sam's shop having one of those gumball machines where you can get a cute little plastic ring, Yuu is there with their fave twst boy and immediately gives the little piece of plastic they got to him and states with a serious face-
"Were married now."
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puppy!hybrid reader x owner!shiu kong cuz i gotta live up to my username and also, i've had a couple of rough weeks ☆ t/w fem!reader who's a puppy hybrid, petplay, reader is compliant, p in v, dumbification, oral sex, spanking, muzzles, sex toys, mentions of pregnancy, slight angst but a lot of fluff minors and ageless blogs do not interact !
owner!shiu absolutely adores you. perky, soft and extremely pliant—you were a sight for his sore eyes. all he wanted after reaching his prime was to have fun with someone as sweet as you after a long day of work. he seemed very well composed and formal but he could feel that facade of his crumble a bit the minute he'd lay his eyes on you.
you were owner!shiu 's living and breathing doll. "'m home." you'd practically be pawing and scratching him once he enters the door out of desperation and he'd pick you up and let you pepper him with as many kisses you want to give him. "did you miss me, puppy?" he lifts you up and embraces you tightly, he knows how much it makes you squeal. he makes sure to pat your head, scratch the back of your ears, softly caresses your tail, give you a lot of rubs all over your body and spin you around at times because all of those things made you feel like you were on the top of the world. "good girl, good girl, you're such a good girl." is all he keeps saying when he's cuddling you and this makes you feel super euphoric, this is the kind of high he could die for.
owner!shiu 's only goal is to keep you safe and happy within your confines. you're extremely ditzy and simple and he knows you like the back of his hand. he'd buy you the frilliest of dresses and accessories and whatever made you truly happy and comfortable. "give daddy a twirl, sweetheart, c'mon... good girl." he'd murmur, watching you try out all the things that he gets for you.
owner!shiu loves it when you run your feet up his torso as he makes you wear the new pair of thigh high stockings that he bought, he loves it when you nibble, suck and lick him because at the end of the day, all you had to do was the bare minimum and he'd give you the world. whatever it is, he'll make you sit on his lap, shaking his leg because he knows how much you love the stimulation and hear you talk about nonsense for hours on end till you get sleepy and fall asleep on his chest.
there are times when owner!shiu is stressed but he has his sweet puppygirl to relieve all of it, doesn't he? he slaps his cock on your longing, salivating tongue, "you want it, don't ya?" he swears that his cock melts off the minute you start lapping and sucking at it. he gently grips your hair as he rubs your ear while you're going at it. "hah- who's my good girl, who's my good girl?" and when he starts to cum, he leaves his cock nestled deep inside your throat as he gushes and when he pulls out and a bit of cum drops on the floor, you make sure to lick all of it without wasting a drop because you're his good girl.
owner!shiu 's favourite position is very obviously doggystyle. he always has one of his hands planted on your hips and the other one on his abdomen as he's practically leaning on you while thrusting his length all the way to your hilt, "fuuuuuucckkk... you're so good f'me, aren't you, my good girl," and you'd mewl broken yes's as he takes good care of your heat periods. "...gonna fuck a litter right in y'r womb, what do you say, huh? i can make a mom outta you, if that's what you want..." and no matter how overwhelming it is, you want more and more of this. nothing ends till you pass out of pleasure eventually and even though he doesn't have the stamina to go on all night, he has his fingers and his mouth and all the toys in the world to keep going.
but owner!shiu is human after all and his patience runs thin at some point as well. whenever you're acting bratty or defiant which was rare, he'd always fix it. he'd bend you over on his lap and spank you till a deep red blossoms on the soft, tender swell of your ass. and at times when you got really unruly during your heat ruts and he's simply had enough of you humping thigh or his shoe, he'd keep you chained for hours with a vibrator on low and a muzzle on your mouth. "y'know i hate doin' this, don't ya? but this is what bad girls get."
owner!shiu is very mindful of your needs and wants but at times, he just cannot put yours above his and gets cruel. but what sticks on to you is when he calls you bad, that's the worst thing in the whole world. and when you cry and whimper in his arms, he hugs you, murmuring words of assurance and apologies all night because you're his sweet little puppy girl and he loves you.
#shiu kong#shiu kong x reader#shiu x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#shiu kong smut#shiu smut#jjk x you#jjk shiu#jujutsu kaisen smut
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