#they really phoned it in on the names in those days

[theetherealbloom]

CLOSE TO YOU

Summary: A commute crush turned meet cute with Pedro Pascal

Paring: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Warnings: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, Commute Crush, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Meet-Cute, Swearing, Anxiety, Surrounded by A-Listers, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Alcohol, Club/Bar Setting

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Happy Close To You release day! I’ve waited for this song since 2018 LMAO. Usually, I don’t write about real-life people, but I really can’t help it since this song is SO Pedro Pascal-coded. Just know that this is fictional and if this isn’t for you, you don’t have to read it! Keep scrolling :> And for those who stay to read this delusion of a fic, hey girlieeee I see you <3 

P.S. I’ll be doing a bunch of fics related to Gracie’s new album that comes out next week!

Song: Close To You by Gracie Abrams

| Main Masterlist |

It all began as a harmless crush on your morning commute. The New York subway was your daily stage, a bustling backdrop as you headed to meet a client. As a social media coordinator, your days revolved around managing high-profile partnerships, coordinating with celebrities and Instagram influencers to craft campaigns that seamlessly blended their brands with consumer appeal. 

But today was different. And of course, you recognized him. 

You noticed him immediately – Pedro Pascal, seated right in front of you. Lost in his book, with a iced quad espresso in a venti cup with extra ice and six shots cradled in his hand, he exuded an effortless charm. His dark, curly hair framed those whisky eyes that glanced up and met yours. Just for a second, you were frozen in time, captivated by his gaze. You quickly looked away, not wanting to seem rude, yet feeling the familiar flutter of a crush brewing.

Did he smile? You swore he did, and your heart skipped a beat. The train doors opened, announcing your stop. Reluctantly, you stepped off, joining the throng of commuters spilling onto the platform. As you ascended the steps, the city's vibrant energy washed over you, but your mind was elsewhere.

Walking towards the restaurant for your client meeting, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. The way his presence ignited a spark within you, a longing that seemed almost irrational. Here you were, burning for a man who didn't even know your name. And yet, in the anonymity of the subway, a fleeting connection had stirred something deep inside you.

It had been a few weeks since that subway encounter, the memory of Pedro Pascal’s whisky eyes lingering in your mind. In the meantime, you had started managing social media for Sarah Paulson, whose busy schedule had her juggling multiple projects and interviews.

Sarah's latest project, a Broadway play titled Appropriate, was garnering critical acclaim and several award nominations. Your job was to promote her involvement, ensuring every post captured the essence of her talent and the play’s success. Though you hadn't been working with her long, you were pleasantly surprised when she invited you to watch one of her performances.

That night, you arrived early at the Belasco Theatre, adorned in your favorite long dress and practical flats, mindful of the commute back to your apartment. Ushered to a seat close to the front, you settled into the plush red velvet, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. As the audience trickled in, you busied yourself with casual texts to friends before putting your phone away, taking in the theatre's intricate architecture and the stage's grandeur.

Moments later, an usher guided someone to the seat next to you. Curiosity made you glance to your right, and there he was—Pedro Pascal, settling in beside you. Your eyes widened in recognition before you quickly looked away, a quiet panic bubbling in your stomach and tightening your chest. You fidgeted with your fingers, a nervous habit, trying to quell the flurry of emotions and resist the urge to stare.

As the house lights dimmed and the show began, you couldn’t help but steal occasional glances at him. The man who had unknowingly captured your heart was now mere inches away. The performance on stage was captivating, but you found yourself equally entranced by the man sitting next to you. In the soft glow of the theatre lights, you wondered if he remembered that brief moment on the subway, and if fate had just given you a second chance to connect.

When the show ended and the cast took their bows, the theatre erupted in applause. Pedro, sitting right next to you, cheered loudly when Sarah stood with the rest of the cast on stage. His genuine enthusiasm for his friend made you smile, and as you glanced at him, he looked down at you with a radiant grin. 

Your heart raced, and for a moment, you felt a concrete connection that was almost tangible. Both of you opened your mouths to speak, but just then, an usher cleared their throat, drawing your attention.

“Mr. Pascal, Sarah Paulson is asking for you backstage… if you would follow me, please,” the usher said, causing Pedro to hesitate, torn between staying with you and fulfilling his friend's request.

“Uh,” Pedro began, glancing between you and the usher. Seeing his dilemma, you made the decision for him. Gathering your things, you offered a polite smile to both Pedro and the starstruck usher.

As Pedro glanced back at the usher, you seized the moment to make your getaway. You might have heard him call out, "Wait!" but you didn't stop. Stepping out onto the bustling street, the city lights of Broadway twinkled around you, a stark contrast to the growing ache in your heart.

The possibility of what might have been gnawed at you, the fleeting connection slipping through your fingers. A voice in the back of your mind echoed doubts, whispering that you didn't quite belong in this world of beautiful, glamorous people. You tried to shake off the feeling, but the bittersweet sting lingered.

You begin to walk away from the theatre, weaving through the crowd lined up for autographs by the backstage door. Just as you're about to cross the street to catch your subway, your phone vibrates in your clutch. Stepping aside, you see Sarah Paulson’s name flashing on the screen.

Shit. 

You quickly answer, praying your voice doesn't betray your nerves. "Hello?"

"Hey!" Sarah's voice is warm and enthusiastic. "How are you? Did you enjoy the show?"

"Yeah, I did! You were absolutely incredible," you say, offering genuine praise and shifting your weight to your other leg.

"Thank you so much! Oh, where are you right now? Are you still nearby? I had told the usher to bring you backstage with Pedro, but it seems like they forgot."

"Oh, um, yeah, I'm near the backstage door," you reply, glancing at the crowd still waiting for autographs.

"Perfect! Some of us are going out for drinks later, and you are welcome to join us!" Sarah’s excitement is infectious.

You stammer, "Uh, I..."

"It'll be great! I promise. I'll introduce you to everyone. You're my best social media manager by far."

Taking a deep breath, you muster, "Okay, yeah, I'd love to come."

"Great! I'll send you the address of where we're headed. We'll meet you there!" Sarah says, her smile practically audible.

"Alright, see you soon." You end the call with a click, clutching your phone tightly as you take another deep breath to steady your nerves and keep the world from spinning.

A ping alerts you to a new message. Glancing at the notification, you read the address and know exactly where to go. With a mixture of excitement and anxiety, you put away your phone and head towards the bar, the city's lights guiding your way.

It took you a while to figure out how to get there, but eventually, you arrive at the bar. As you step inside, a warm hum fills your body, the lights and the pulse of music thrumming through the room. The smoky, dark atmosphere feels electric, bodies moving in a rhythm that seems to make the air itself burn. 

Under the soft pink light, everything seems slightly surreal, yet oddly perfect. You spot Sarah, who immediately pulls you into a warm hug, which you happily accept. As you exchange pleasantries near their table, you feel at ease, enjoying the camaraderie. 

Then, suddenly, you sense a shift. You glance up and see Pedro looking right back at you. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet, and in that instant, the crowded room seems to fade away. 

There he is, the man who had unknowingly captured your heart, his gaze steady and intense. As Sarah guides you over to introduce the rest of her friends, castmates, and of course, Pedro, you feel a pull between the two of you.

You muster the courage to speak, telling him your name, and even through the loud speakers and endless chatter, you hear him say your name with a breathless relief. Finally meeting the mystery girl he saw on the subway seems to have stirred something within him.

When you shake hands, there's a lingering touch, a silent acknowledgment of the connection between you. You can't help but duck your head a little, feeling shy under the intensity of his gaze. 

"Nice to finally meet you," Pedro says, his voice soft yet filled with warmth.

"Likewise," you reply, your own voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.

In that brief exchange, you both sense something unspoken, a silent understanding that this meeting is more than just chance. And as the night unfolds, amidst the laughter and music, you find yourself drawn to him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of fate.

As Sarah goes to mingle with the rest of the group, you both stand there, caught in a moment suspended in time. The air crackles with anticipation, and you can't shake the feeling that if you asked him to, he'd give up everything just to be close to you.

"You have a way of lighting up a room," he says, his voice low and full of sincerity as he leans in closer.

A blush creeps up your cheeks at his words, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "And you have a way of making me feel like I'm the only one in it," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the night wears on, you find yourself completely enchanted by Pedro. His easy charm and quick wit captivate you, and it's as if the two of you are in your own little world, separate from the chaos of the club.

He tells you stories about his acting career and his passion for music. You share your dreams and aspirations, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence that you've never experienced with anyone before.

Throughout the night, there are moments where your hands brush against each other or your eyes meet in a lingering gaze. Each time it happens, a spark of electricity shoots through your body, igniting a fire within you.

At one point, he leans in closer to whisper in your ear over the loud music. "I have a confession to make," he says, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You turn to face him, your heart racing with anticipation.

He chuckles softly, the sound sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "I can't deny that you've caught my attention since the moment I saw you on the subway."

The admission sends your heart racing, and you can't help but feel a surge of boldness. "Funny, because you've been on my mind ever since," you confess, meeting his gaze with newfound confidence.

His eyes light up with a mixture of surprise and delight, and you can't help but be drawn to the way his lips curl into a playful smirk. "Is that so?" he teases, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.

You nod, feeling a rush of exhilaration coursing through your veins. "Absolutely," you reply, unable to tear your gaze away from his captivating stare.

Before you can say another word, he takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a dance choreographed just for the two of you. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand brushes against your neck, sending tingles of anticipation racing across your skin.

And then, in a moment that feels like it's been plucked straight from a romance film, his lips meet yours in a soft, tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as you melt into his embrace, the world around you fading away until there's nothing left but the two of you.

As you pull away, breathless and exhilarated, a sense of euphoria washes over you, like a chemical override in ultraviolet. "I just wanna be close to you," he murmurs, his words sending a thrill through your entire being. A smile dances at the corners of your lips as you revel in the electric connection between you.

"And you could be mine tonight," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tinged with a hint of playful flirtation.

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with affection as he leans in closer. "I think I could get used to being yours," he says, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity, melting away any lingering doubts or fears.

He can't wait to fall in love with you.

#pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedroispunk #ethereal writes #pedro pascal smut #pedrohub #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal character fanfic #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #yes im delusional

[kymerawrites]

Sugar daddy Simon x OC

Ghost was sat in a room with his team while they were being debriefed about their next mission. His attention was dragged away from his captain speaking once he felt his phone vibrate insistently in his pocket. He pulls it out, already irritated at the interruption and ready to hang up when he sees the contact name. Shym. Ah, hell. He can never resist shym is his only real weakness.

He excused himself and stepped out into the hallway where he answered the call. “ Hey, sugar. “

He leaned back against the cold wall. He missed her so much, it’s been a while now since they were last together. He wanted nothing more than to see her face even if it’s through the phone. That’s why he never let her send him pictures, in case he lost his phone. “ I’m sorry for not calling earlier.” He said lowly, his English accent slightly thick now with his tiredness.

“It’s fine Simon, never apologize for keeping the world safe.” I laughed

That’s the reason why he loved her so much. Even though she doesn’t know what he does she still understood and respected it. She never pushed him for answers, never nagged him while he was gone and was still by his side when he had his bad days. He chuckled lowly. “ Have you been behaving? “ He asked with a teasing smirk.

“Hmmm, give me an example?”

His smirk widened. He could practically see her pout through his phone and just the image of it made his chest feel tight. “ Have you been taking care of yourself, eating and sleeping well? I haven’t been there to make you. “ He replied.

“I’m doing amazing, the girls are going shopping today, sort of challenge but I’m not participating.”

He hummed and crossed one foot over the other. He hated hearing about her being with the girls, especially when he knew how rowdy they got. Just imagining her in a club or bar with drunk men circling her made that possessive feeling in his chest grow. “ Oh yeah. And why aren’t you going?” He asked, his voice a bit lower.

“They have this challenge, ask their partners for a creditcard and go on a shopping spree.”

He raised a brow at that. He wasn’t surprised that those girls came up with something like that, but the thought of Shym doing it rubbed him the wrong way. “ And you’re staying home because you know I’d never give you my credit card. “ He mumbled.

“No not at all, ofcourse I need some new clothes, want to look all dolled up for you when your back, but I should do that with my own money.” I mumbled

That made him freeze. Now he imagined her dressed up pretty for him and it sent a flare of want and need to his chest. He clenched his jaw and shifted on his feet, trying to ignore the thoughts that suddenly filled his mind. “ Don’t worry about looking dolled up for me. “ He muttered in a tight voice. “ I’d rather take the clothes off of you anyways. “

“Some new lingerie would help with that won’t it? Change of scenery” I whispered

He bit back a curse at her words, trying to keep his voice steady. “ And why is it that you want that all of a sudden. “ He said, even though he already knew the answer. The images filling his mind were sending a slow wave of heat through his body, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh baby, haven’t you forgot that the knife play you do torn a lot of my lingerie and clothes” bastard I thought

A smirk tugged at his lips. He knew she was a bit miffed about him damaging her clothes and lingerie. But that just made him smile more. “ I’ve noticed you complaining about it too. “ He stated, keeping his tone calm. But he couldn’t help but tease her a bit, his voice lowering into a low whisper. “ But when it’s happening you don’t really protest now do you?”

He could practically her blush through the phone at that tease, his smirk growing more now. His hand moved up to the back of his neck and rubbed it absently. She was too easy to tease sometimes. “ You like it don’t you, sugar. “ He said, his voice coming out more rough now. He couldn’t stop the images that filled his mind as he spoke, they were starting to effect him too now.

“ You like when I leave marks all over you. “ He continued quietly. “ Leaving you all bitten and bruised in the shape of my hands. “ He knew they were both getting effected by his words. He could hear her breath hitch slightly on the other line and it made his pants tighten in response, biting his lip under his mask.

“ You don’t complain when I rip through your clothes to touch your body. “ He said, his voice barely a whisper now from the huskiness of his voice. He wasn’t sure he could stop the words even if he wanted to. Her soft breaths against the phone was making his chest tighten with need. “ When I use my knife to- “ he stopped himself before his voice got too ragged.

“Amex gold in the 3rd drawer, buy some nice stuff.” He said out of no where

Ghost froze, his mind momentarily distracted from his own lust and his smirk faltered slightly. Was he really giving her his credit card? He didn’t have to. She certainly didn’t need it. But when he thought about it, his eyes darkened. The thought of her buying something with his money and wearing it had his blood heating. He took a slow breath in, trying to push down the possessive feeling in his chest.

“ Are you sure about that sugar? “ He muttered, moving his hand to his jaw and rubbing the skin there. He knew he should be telling her no. But that damn possessiveness he had was making him hard to think clearly. He wanted her in his clothes and in his things.

A grin formed on my face “I’ll make sure I’ll look perfect when you come back.”

A shiver went down his spine at her soft reply. He could practically see that cheeky grin on her face. And he hated the fact the the thought of her in anything of his was making him needy and wanting. She was going to be the death of him. “ Don’t tease me, sugar. “ He muttered, his voice coming out as a near growl.

I laughed “go back to your debrief baby, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Ghost couldn’t keep the grumble from leaving his throat as she ended the call. He was going to be useless in the debrief now. His mind had now been filled with the image of her buying clothes with his credit card. It was almost like she did this on purpose. He put his phone away and took a moment to compose himself before heading back to his debrief.

He was definitely turned on. But he tried to force it down as he walked back into the room. His captain picked up the conversation but he barely even heard it. His mind was filled with thoughts of Shym spending his money, wearing his clothes. It was driving him insane thinking of it.

And I went crazy on my shopping, but kept it on a limit. 5k max, the poor man’s credit shouldn’t become a issue in the future.

I got a facial, new hairstyle, shoes, clothes, makeup and the cherry on top expensive lingerie.

Despite only having a limit on the credit card, it didn’t take long for the charges to appear on his account with every purchase she made.

He groaned when he pulled out his phone to check his credit card usage and saw all the transactions. 5k was gone within an a few hours. But he couldn’t deny that he liked it. She was using his money and buying things they both would enjoy. He bit his lip as he checked how much he had left and decided it wasn’t a problem. He could just ask for an increase if he really needed to.

But the fact that she had just spent 5k on makeup, shoes etc. made him smirk. His mind immediately went to imagining the amount of things she would buy with a higher limit. But he couldn’t let himself dwell on that at the moment. He had a meeting to go to and his captain would notice his distracted state if he didn’t compose himself quickly.

That evening he FaceTimed me, still with his mask on and getting ready for bed, we had a little timezone difference as I was in New York and he was in Chile on a mission

“Enjoying the summer weather right now in chile?”

He was in the room they gave him for the mission. He had just finished changing into some clean clothes after a long debrief and was just sitting down on his bed, checking his phone. He chuckled at her words and leaned back, laying against the headboard. “ You could say that. “ He replied as he shifted on his bed, getting comfortable. “ The heat wave has been a pain to deal with while in the field. “

I scoffed “English lads cannot deal with shite, when can I finally take you to my parents in the Seychelles without complaints?”

He rolled his eyes as she teased him, knowing full well that he absolutely hated the heat. It was ironic given that the first place she wanted him to go to was to her parent’s villa in the hottest place in the world. “ Never. “ He replied. “ Can your parents even handle me, sweetheart? “ He shot back teasingly.

He could tell by her expression that she was pouting at his response. He chuckled at that and felt a pang of wanting in his chest. He missed her face. “ Stop pouting love. “ He chastised, his voice quieter now. “ Can’t believe you’d rather take me to a hot sunny island than a cold snowy one. “

“You want exotic, you get exotic!” I exclaimed. “Wait let me turn on my camera, look at my hair!”

He groaned in response, already knowing that she was just taking the piss now. “ exotic huh? “ He retorted, shaking his head in fake disappointment as he watched her turn on her camera. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the new look, his eyes darkening as he took in the new colour. “ Well… looks good. “ He said, his voice coming out a bit strangled.

His pupils dilated quickly, his hands clenching into the sheets. He didn’t expect her to do that so suddenly. “ Christ… “ He mumbled, his voice coming out in a rough whisper. “ You’re cheeky… “ he said, his tone slightly scolding as he swallowed hard.

He could feel himself growing hard from the brief view and he growled softly in frustration. “ Shouldn’t have done that when I’m not there to touch you sugar. “ He hissed, his grip getting tighter on the bedsheets.

I started to touch my bra “means you need to come back fast.”

His eyes followed your hands as you started to touch your bra. He wanted to touch it. “ You’re not making it easy. “ He grumbled, shifting on the bed and grabbing his mask. “ You’re being naughty when I can’t even touch you. “

He pulled his mask off and raked a hand through his hair, trying to push back the lust building in his body. His eyes were dark as he looked at her. “ You’re being extra cheeky, sugar. “ He said, his voice sounding more rough now.

“Send more cash and I’ll behave..” I laughed

He cursed silently in his mind when she said that. He hated how damn easy she could rile him up, and even more how easily she could get him to cave to her demands. He didn’t even hesitate before he quickly logged into his app and transferred more money.

He wasn’t even sure how much he sent as he was too hasty in giving in to her. The second it was transferred, he looked back up at her, his eyes darker than before. “ Should I send more. “ He growled, his voice coming out as huskier than usual.

I smiled and let me camera see my thighs, red pantie with gold chain on my belly “maybe..”

His breath hitched at the sight of her thighs and the red panties. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself. But it didn’t really help. “ You’re going to drive me insane… “ He muttered, his voice coming out as a low growl. “ I bet you bought them with my card as well.”

“All for you baby, you know I’m your sugar.” I whispered

He felt his chest twist at that and his eyes darkened further. “ Too damn sweet for me. “ He grumbled, his gaze roaming over all the exposed skin on the screen.” When I come back I swear I’ll leave your skin bruised.”

He felt the possessive feeling grow in his chest. This wasn’t fair. She was thousands of miles away and he couldn’t even touch her. “ Teasing me when I’m not able to even hold you. “ He growled as he stared at her. “ You’re going to be the death of me, sugar.”

My hands traveled over my belly towards the rim of my panties

His eyes immediately followed the movement of her hands towards her panties and his breath hitched again. He bit his lip, trying to control himself but failing miserably. “ Jesus Christ… “ He muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Can I touch myself for you si?”

He growled when she asked that, his eyes darkening even more. “ Christ…. “ He was struggling to keep his voice in control now, his chest tightening. “ You want to touch yourself for me, sugar? “ He asked, his voice coming out as a gruff whisper.

He ran a hand down his chest, wanting the touch her so badly it was driving up insane. “ Do it. “ He said, his tone commanding now

He leant back against the headboard, getting comfortable as he watched her intently. “ I wish to Christ you were here in front of me. “ He bit out, his voice coming out as a huff.

My finger making circles, aroused, in need of touch, arched back. He saw it all “I miss you too baby.. but I can’t stay dry forever.”

His breath hitched at the sight before him, his mind starting to race at the sight of her arching back. “ God you’re beautiful.” He choked out, his voice strained as he watched her. “ Keep taking your time… I want to watch every movement you make.”

I started to whimper “send some more money baby I’ll give the best show you want..”

He groaned at the sound of her whine but wasted no time sending more money. “ How much more do you want, sugar. “ He growled out, his eyes glued to the screen, watching her movements.

“Make it… it… 1k” I whimpered

He grunted but obliged, sending the money immediately. “ You’re getting spoiled. “ He muttered as he watched her on the screen. “ But goddamn do I like spoiling you.”

He shifted on the bed, his sweatpants starting to get tight with his growing need. His eyes were fixated on her, his hands clenching the sheets tightly. “ Keep going.. “ He encouraged, his voice coming out as a ragged whisper.

He ached to be the one touching her instead of her own hands. His chest felt tight with want as he watched her movements on the screen. “ Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He asked, his voice coming out in a low growl.

“I’m thinking about you, how you should be ripping my clothes now..”

He growled at her words, his eyes darkening even more with possessiveness. “ Goddamn it… Wish I was there to rip those new clothes to shreds. “ He muttered, his grip on the sheets getting tighter.

He shifted slightly on the bed again, his body feeling like it was on fire. “ You wearing anything that’s mine sugar? “ He asked, his voice coming out huskier than normal.

I kept circling and showed my new heels, clear glass and high “I hope you like them..” I started to moan as I became wetter

He growled softly when she showed him the heels. “ I like all the things you bought with my card. “ He said, his gaze darkening as he watched her move. “ But your new moans are the best thing you’ve gotten with my money so far.”

“It’s VIP..” I started to arch again and it became intense “si…”

He groaned at her arching, feeling himself straining in his pants. “ God… “ He muttered out, his body feeling like it was on fire from desire. “ You’re being extra needy when I’m away. “ He said, his voice coming out as a rough grumble.

“I can’t hold it any longer..” I moaned

He felt the need to touch her growing stronger as he watched her on the screen. “ Don’t hold it anymore.” He ordered, his voice coming out as a ragged whisper. “ I want to watch you….”

And I released, I felt hazy hands wet and sticky from myself

He inhaled deeply at the sight of her release, his body feeling like it was burning with need. He wanted to touch her so badly. “ Christ… “ He muttered as he watched her, his eyes darkening further.

He shifted again on the bed, trying to get some relief from the tightness in his pants. “ I wish I was the one giving you that cum. “ he growled out, his voice ragged. “ Goddamn it… “

He clenched the sheets tightly, his body feeling like it was being consumed by her. “ You look so goddamn beautiful when you come. “ He choked out. His eyes were glued to the screen, taking in every movement she made. “

You make me want to break opsec and come home so bad. “ He growled softly, his body feeling like it was on fire.

“Then make sure those enemies are dead in no time. Now go focus on your job I’m tired baby..”

He nodded, reluctantly agreeing with her. “ Fine. “ He huffed out, his body still feeling like it was on fire from desire. “ Get some sleep sugar, I’ll finish up and be home soon. “ He said, his tone coming out gruff and rough.

“Will do Simon, I love you and stay safe..” I gave a kiss trough the camera

He chuckled softly when she gave him a kiss through the camera. “ Love you too, baby. “ He returned the kiss with one of his own. “ I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? “ He said, his tone still sounding a bit rough, but softer now.

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes softening. “ Sweet dreams, okay? “ He said before reluctantly ending the call, his body still feeling like it was on fire with need.

#ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #modern warfare #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley #codcanon #cod 141 #cod imagine #cod #modern warefare 2 x reader #dead dove do not eat

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #end game #defending jacob

[lalalychee-x]

BLADE D!CK PROFILE ft. headcannons

♡ WOOP! Another one! BLADE! was also requested! I'll definitely be making a masterlist soon! But onwards to the post. So yk those comments that pop out hex codes about character's cock? Yeah, well, I'm going to do that too, but its 'Bladie'!

♡ BASICS

girth: #c7a7a5 body: #e3d0cf   tip:#d9a9a7 size: 7inch texture: veiny but they're pale and un-feelable, slight curve thickness: 2.5inch foreskin: yes

BLADE! is probably one of the palest of the HSR cast, so his dick is a more fair and brownish/greyish, with a slight curve. I mean look at him! He's a bit of an emo...(ily Blade, dw)

BLADE! 's veins are pale in colour but you can see them, but they don't stick up enough to actually feel them. It's probably because he's so pale. Overall, a very sophisticated and no-nonsense kind of sculpt!

BLADE! is nochalant on the outside, simply shrugging if you tease him. But he's almost OBSSESSIVE, though he doesn't let it show. If you're his, you're his! He can't bear to watch you be stared at by others, and GOD does it show in bed too...

BLADE! Expanding from that, he's actually super clingy! He'll make sure you're safe when travelling and will anxiously stare at his phone deciding if he should call you or not. He's just embarrassed to show it to you, but you know what he's thinking.

BLADE! definitely fucks you where he can see your face. He needs to SEE how you moan his name, how your lips part to say it, how your eyes roll back without shame. He likes to see his victory, watching as you as you break.

BLADE! Therefore, he would usually fuck you missionary, but on days he gets really pent up, would bend you over facing the mirror so you can see his face and yours. Of course, so he can see you pressed against the bed as he fucks into you.

BLADE! may get annoyed really easily as other guys try and hit on you, but on the inside he's actually really shy about it. He may lean down to kiss you or unfolding his arms to shuffle you by your waist so you're sitting closer to him. He seems calm when he does it, but on the inside, he's ran through the course-of-action 10,000 times as not to mess up. He wants those guys to know you're his (but is also shy so he test-runs the scenario in his head too many times so he doesn't mess up).

BLADE! Expanding from the previous point, he ends up thinking of you so much, staring at you so much, feeling you and pulling you closer so much that he gets UNBELIEVEABLY horny. By accident. Though, he'll never admit it outloud whenever you notice it through his blush and constant tugging at your clothes to 'go somewhere private'.

BLADE! is barely vocal, but his breath just comes out in pants, groans and gasps but boy, when he does say something, its the biggest turn on. He's either praising you, calling you his, or dissing every person that was getting too comfortable and creepy with you that day. If he's doing you in front of a mirror, he'll lift your head up either by your hair or your jaw so you look at yourself and him fucking you from behind clearly in the mirror. "Haah —  ah, that's it. Keep looking. Don't look away. You're mine, you hear?"

BLADE! is extremely sweet afterwards. He'll pull you into his chest and lay you comfortably there, telling you how good you looked and did. And he's got a very bountiful chest, trust (his in-game model literally has his man-tits jiggling).

BLADE! ...how do I describe balls. I'm being so serious, someone help...

Feel free to ask for other characters!

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

#lychee<3 #lychee's sillies #hsr #hsr smut #honkai star rail #hsr headcanons #hsr x reader #smut #hsr blade #blade #blade x reader #blade x you #headcanon

[peachhcs]

mark to the rescue

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy isn't feeling it when hannah drags her out, so mark comes to save her from the frats

2.1k words

i always love writing the big brother relationship between samy and the umich boys, so here's her and mark after he picks her up when samy attempts to go out and talk to guys but realizes all of them are horrible

au masterlist

“come onnn, you haven’t come out with us in like..forever,” hannah frowned at samy where the girl sat on her bed trying to get her homework done. a small eye roll came from the soccer player. 

“maybe because i’m trying to keep up with my work?” samy’s tone had a bit of attitude laced into it. 

hannah’s noticed she’s become a bit more bitter ever since the breakup and knew to not take it personally. “okay, well you can take a break? it’ll be a fun break,” the girl tried again with a hopeful smile. 

“i’m just not into it,” samy shrugged knowing she wouldn’t really have fun. she never had a lot of fun when going out unless she was somewhat wasted and there was no way she was drinking her weight with a game in two days. 

“for an hour? please? for me if not yourself? maybe you’ll see a guy catch your eye or something,” hannah wiggled her eyebrows, but that only earned her another unimpressed eye roll. 

she’s been on samy’s back a little about going out and talking to some guys since will clearly didn’t care anymore and neither of them had spoken for five months. 

“again with the guys, huh?” samy raised her eyebrow. 

“i just think it could be fun for you. try out your flirting. you never really had to do that with will because he was always just all over you,” immediately after hannah said that she realized she probably shouldn’t have. 

samy’s gaze hardened a bit at the mention of will’s name. 

“if i come out, will you shut up?” 

hannah smiled, “yes. i knew i could convince you. come on, we need to get you ready.” 

samy was dragged off the bed a moment later, her textbooks and notebooks long forgotten as the two girls dove into samy’s closet to find an outfit. 

thirty minutes later, hannah and samy packed themselves into the full frat house. sweaty bodies knocked against one another along with drinks dropping to the floor as it sloshed out of people’s cups. the scene was chaotic and samy quickly regretted coming out. 

“i’m gonna find a drink. want anything?” hannah yelled over the speakers. 

“get me whatever,” samy responded. the girl nodded before disappearing into the crowd of bodies towards the kitchen. 

samy perched herself in the corner where she hoped she could hide the whole night and not have to talk to anyone. her phone suddenly became really interesting as she swiped through her different apps awaiting hannah’s return. 

“hey, samy, right?” the brunette’s head snapped up at the new voice. 

when she saw the face a few feet away, she instantly recognized him. he was in her political theory class where the two bantered back and forth about differing opinions. samy managed a small smile. 

“hi, yeah. that’s me. you’re..dylan, right?” the boy nodded when samy got his name right. 

“yeah, that’s me. i’m always firing some opinions back at you in class,” dylan said and samy nodded. 

“yeah, that’s right. those are fun,” the girl chuckled even though they were on opposite ends of the debate most of the times, samy enjoyed having someone to have civilized discussions with amd she knew they entertained the class. 

“i didn’t really take you for much of a frat girl?” dylan hummed, leaning himself against the wall. the brunette shrugged some. 

“i’m not, but my roommate dragged me out,” somewhere in the crowd was hannag getting them drinks and samy lowkey hoped she’d come back soon so she could exit this conversation. 

it wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to dylan, samy knew what he wanted and why he was near her and that was just something the girl didn’t really want to partake in. 

“how are you and your boyfriend? i never see you post about him anymore?” dylan asked casually, but that sentence alone nearly sent the girl spiraling. she forgot people would ask her about will because they were fairly public with their relationship. 

“um, we broke up a few months ago actually,” samy swallowed, eyes on the ground. 

“oh. i’m sorry, i had no idea. that sucks,” the taller boy quickly sympathized with her, but samy shook her head. 

“don’t worry about it. it’s fine,” she gave a tight lipped smile that hopefully dylan would take the hint that she didn’t want to talk about it. 

he seemed to not take that hint though, “you were out of his league anyway. i’m sure you can do a lot better than him.” 

samy seriously hoped hannah was on her way back with those drinks. “yeah, it’s whatever. i’m getting over it,” the soccer player’s fingers brushed across her charm bracelet, subconsciously toying with the shark charm. 

whether the youngest hughes wanted to acknowledge it or not, she played with that charm a lot whenever will was on her mind as if it would help her stop thinking about him even though he got her that charm. 

“i bet your brother’s hockey friends are just lined up for you,” dylan seriously did not know when to stop talking. 

luckily, hannah pushed her way back through the crowd with two cups in her hand. she beamed when she caught sight of her roommate talking to a guy. 

“oh, perfect. i was waiting for you, hannah. mind showing me to the bathroom,” samy immediately cut in when the girl got close enough. 

samy had eyes that said get me away from this man. hannah glanced between her and the guy before nodding, letting the soccer player drag her away before anything else could be said. as soon as the two were out of view, samy grabbed a cup and quickly chugged whatever was in it. 

“jesus, slow down, hughes,” hannah laughed a bit. 

“these fucking guys don’t know how to take a hint. have they always been this bad?” because will was always just there, samy never had to do much flirting with him to catch his attention. she hardly paid attention to the guys in the frats last year, so she never realized how horrible it was to talk to one of them. 

“did something happen?” hannah grew concerned. 

“just that dylan can’t take a hint when to stop talking. he literally thinks luke’s hockey friends are at my feet after knowing will broke up with me,” the idea made the brunette shudder even thinking about it. 

“ew, gross. that would be a whole new low for you if you started dating one of them,” hannah shook her head. 

“can i just leave? i’ll get mark or someone to pick me up. i know you’re trying to cheer me up, but i don’t think a frat is gonna make me smile,” samy frowned a bit. 

hannah studied her roommate's expression and she knew this scene wasn’t for her. it never had been anyway. “okay, just text me when you’re back? i’m sorry this wasn’t fun.” 

“it’s okay. i promise i’ll text,” the two girls exchanged tight hugs before samy started her way back to the door and searched for mark’s contact. 

she knew ethan was studying for this big exam coming up and mark never did much except hang out with his girlfriend, so samy just hoped she wouldn’t interrupt things when she called. surprisingly, the older boy picked up on the second ring as soon as samy got outside. 

“what’s up hughesy?” mark cheered. 

“hey, i hate to ask but can you pick me up? i’m at this frat hannah dragged me out to and i just wasn’t feeling it. i’ll send my location,” the girl explained. 

“yeah, sure. i’m on my way,” mark said. 

“thanks, mark. i owe you,” the two hung up and samy made her perch outside while she waited for mark’s arrival. 

ten minutes later, mark’s little honda civic pulled onto the side of the road. the boy reached over the seats to push samy’s door open for her. the girl smiled as she climbed in beside him. 

“thanks again. i didn’t wanna bother ethan knowing he’s studying,” samy explained as she buckled in and mark pulled back onto the road. 

“it’s not a problem. i was just playing video games with the other guys,” that made samy laugh because of how typical that sounded. those guys were always glued to their computers on call with one another. 

“any chance you’re hungry? i could go for our usual,” mark glanced over at the girl with a smile. 

anytime ethan or mark had to pick samy up late at night, they always stopped at their favorite pizza place on campus that became the spot the two boys took the girl out for lunch every other week to catch up with her like real annoying brothers would do. 

“i could always go for pizza,” samy grinned back at the older boy. 

they pulled into the parking lot a few moments later as the two eagerly hopped out to order their usuals—two slices of pepperoni for samy and two slices of cheese for mark. with it being almost 12 in the morning, the two got in and out and then found a table outside. they let the comfortable silence overtake them, savoring the first bites and people watching the very drunk college kids wandering around to different house parties. 

“so bad night, or what?” mark wondered. 

“not really..i just wasn’t feeling it i guess. this one guy tried talking me up and it got weird really fast,” samy shook her head. 

“what’d he say?” 

“well, first he said i was out of will’s league because i told him we broke up when he asked. then he said and i quote, “i’m sure luke’s hockey friends are lined up at your feet.”” mark quickly frowned when he heard that. 

“what the fuck. who says that,” his eyebrows scrunched together in near disgust. 

“i have no idea. i just had to get out of there. i forgot how awful guys are when they’re trying to flirt with you,” the younger girl shook her head again. 

“i guess you have been out of the game for awhile so,” mark gently teased, but that made samy smile. 

“apparently. i hate that i actually have to like deal with that if i wanna talk to guys now.” 

“are you thinking about dating again?” mark asked. 

“i feel like i can’t keep sitting around being sad, so maybe. i don’t know. probably nothing serious though. the dating scene doesn’t really appeal to me.” 

“makes sense. i’d be the same way if i were you. i know you and will didn’t date for a long time, but that was some serious shit, so.. moving on isn’t that easy,” the older boy sympathized, which samy appreciated. 

“right. i was his first time, so i’d say that’s pretty serious,” the girl mumbled, but mark made a face. 

“ew, i didn’t need to know that part. but like actually?” his reaction made the brunette laugh. 

“sorry, but yeah i was. surprised me too when he told me, but i don’t know. i kind of thought it was sweet,” samy hummed a bit, her finger going back to the shark charm. 

“i know you’ve probably heard this a hundred times, but i really hope you guys can work it out. especially the friendship part. having a best friend like that is really special. i never really had a best friend like that until i came here and met ethan and luke and all the guys. even if the dating can’t happen again, i really hope you two can be friends again,” mark said softly which samy surprisingly didn’t hate hearing. she knew everyone who was saying this had a point and she, too, hoped that her and will could work something out. it was just a matter of who was gonna reach out to make it happen because they were both very stubborn. 

“thanks, mark. i also hope we can be friends at some point again,” the two shared a smile. 

they stayed for another ten minutes before deciding they should get back because it was late. when mark pulled into the parking lot to samy’s dorm, she reached out to give his arm a loving squeeze. 

“thanks again. text me when you and ethan are up for our get together next week and i’ll see you at tomorrow's game.” 

“yes, ma’am. have a good night,” they exchanged one last smile before samy climbed out and started her way back to the dorm feeling a lot better than she did when she left earlier. 

#will smith hockey #hughes!sister x will smith au #samy x will #samy hughes #boston college hockey #boston college #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #uofmichigan #umich hockey #bc eagles #will smith hockey angst #bc hockey #san jose sharks #ws6 #sjs #mark estapa #umich wolverines #umich soccer #boston college hockey blurb #umich imagine

[nahoyasboyfriend]

Burning desire

warnings: professor and student, fem!reader, shameless smut, creampie bc why not, choking (it's James what did you expect), readers a love(lust)struck loser who likes her teacher.

Word count: 4.8k

A/N: first time writing something on that more the 2k. This isn't proofread, but I hope it's to your liking. This is kinda old so it might be bad. Hope you enjoy!

You arrived fairly early on the first day. It wasn't really intentional—you live only a few blocks away and paranoid that you have somehow overslept, rushed to get ready. Thankfully you aren't too early for the door to be locked, just enough for the classroom to be mostly empty of students. There were two other people in the room, pulling paper and pencils out their bags and not paying you any mind. You make yourself comfortable in your seat—not too close but not painfully far from where the instructor will be—and follow in their example.

With nothing left to do, you pull out your phone to mindlessly scroll until class starts. In the midst of liking some random post, your phone buzzes—the low battery notification pops on the screen. You would forget to charge your phone last night. Sighing, you reach into your bag to grab your charger, sifting through the content of your bag only to find it not in there; you must've left it at home. Just great. After your phone dies, you have no other choice but to either look blankly at your desk or watch the few people here.

You find your eyes flitting across the room to them; it's not like you don't watch people when you're bored anyway.

When you've had your fill of observing, the door opens—it looks like your teacher has finally arrived. You watch the man get himself ready for the upcoming lecture; he’s busy arranging some paperwork so you take the time to ogle him shamelessly. He looks young, maybe around his early thirties. His hair is slicked down to perfection and he has a little pencil mustache—He is, admittedly, rather handsome.

You hadn't expected that. You weren't quite sure what your expectation was—probably thought he'd be some fourty-year old depressed asshole whose wife doesn’t love him. Yeah…that'd be the type of person who looks like they’d teach a course like this one.

Suddenly, he glances up, probably to check how many people had come in. Still, it scares the living daylights out of you—you rip your gaze away from him. Opting to snatch up your phone and pretend you have more interesting things to look at besides your teacher, you feel your face warm up when you still feel his eyes on you. The sound of his chair scraping the floor pulls everyone's attention to the front; he saunters over to the board and jots down his name with Expo marker.

“My name is Mr. March,” he declares with a smile. Oh fuck, he has a nice voice.

You don't pay much attention to the rest of his introduction, but you still enjoy the timbre of his voice. Instead, you go back to admiring his looks in a totally-not-creepy way. He looks like money-personified; the black vest, the white button-up underneath, and the pair of black pants are all crisp and obviously made with premium material. He even walks with a grace that most lack,talking in a manner like he is more of a socialite than a mere college professor.

More students start to flow in and by the time Mr. March is through with going over his expectations for the semester, everyone is seated and ready for class to start.

In the row ahead of you, a group of girls were quietly debating amongst themselves if he was single or not. You would've laughed if you weren't curious yourself. You spent the remainder of class staring at him without listening to a word that left his pretty mouth (later on you beat yourself up for not taking notes). His voice was hypnotic, each word sinking you deeper into whatever trance you were in. He was refined… elegant. Every movement looked calculated.

Honestly, he could be one of those old Hollywood stars. Face perfectly sculpted to be plastered on billboards; a smile born for posters. Briefly, you wondered if you were to go searching that you'd find him in a classical film.

Then, he's looking at you and the world stops—it shouldn't be anything mind-blowing because there's really nothing special about it, but still, you find yourself immobilized. His voice is syrupy, smooth, and mind-numbing. He clears his throat and your cheeks burn. He looks expectant, like he's waiting for something. He definitely asked you a question. Scrambling through your racing thoughts, you just stare dumbly at him, waiting for him to repeat whatever he had asked. He doesn't.

“I, er, don't know,” you mumble sheepishly. He quirks an eyebrow at that, painfully unimpressed. He doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity and his silence suffocates you. The only sounds in the class were a few chuckles from other students. You shift in your seat.

“You would've known if you had listened to me,” he lightly scolds. You nod, hoping that'll be enough to show that you get his point. He furrows his brows, and he looks like he's about to push it further. Luckily, he takes mercy on you and simply repeats the initial question.

A few more giggles, and the class is back to normal. You'd think being publicly berated would be enough for you to learn your lesson, but it isn't. Because soon enough, his words are going in one ear and out the other—the words meld together into a pleasant hum in the background.

Before you know it, class is over. You bite your lip as you hurry to pack your bags, the shame from earlier returning like a punch to the gut. You don't dare look in his direction, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You scurry out the door, and thank the lord he's your only class of the day.

You let out a long-awaited sigh as you burst through your front door, haphazardly throwing your bag in the corner—you can finally decompress. You study until you feel like your head is about to burst to keep your thoughts off of him and the rather embarrassing way your first day ended.

It's been a few weeks since you got chastised for being an absent-minded idiot, and despite the embarrassment you can't bring yourself to be mad at him. Instead of anger, or even mild annoyance, all you feel is attraction. You try to deny it, bottle it up and push it to the back of your mind. Innocent fascination is what you label it. His passè charm and unconventional way of speaking is why you can't get him out of your head. That's the real reason all your thoughts lead back to him. Why at night you get struck with downright obscene visuals of him. You don't touch yourself— At least not in reality.

The you— you’ve conjured up in your head does, she touches him too. She fondles him in places you'll never see—let alone touch in real life. He says things to her that you'll never hear. He gradually seeps into your dreams, when that happens you wake up with damp underwear, and humiliation that settles deep in the crevices of your gut. It makes seeing him so much worse, but something about him captivates you.

You find yourself sneaking glances when you're convinced he isn't looking– It's the only thing you can't seem to stop– so you indulge. The only rule: don't get caught. And that sounds pretty easy to adhere to. Just don't look too long.

Simple, right?

Naively, you were confident you could do it. It worked for a little while. But at some point, you got complacent. Assured yourself you wouldn't get caught because you were doing so well. Your eyes meet in slow motion, or that's how it felt to you. In the middle of personal study time, so you had no real excuse. Neither of you break eye contact for a few more seconds, and he has a plain, almost bored expression on his face.

Ducking your head down, you stare at your blank paper. You don't pretend to write anything. It's pointless now. You’d been caught red-handed. You simply sit there, wallowing in your shame. That's become your favorite pastime lately. Deciding enough time has passed, you peek up. He's gone back to whatever he was writing and you decide that now is the time to actually write on your paper.

Class ends and you're packing up. You don't rush today, taking your time collecting your things.

“a word, please.”

You swallow dryly, cemented in place. Hesitantly, you peer up at him. His eyes bore deep into your soul like two black voids sucking you in. Growing impatient, he adds: “Yes, you. I'd like to speak to you.”

You dwandle your way to him. He doesn't rush you, at least not verbally, but by the look on his face your torpor was getting under his skin. You pick up the pace. Finally, you reach his desk. “You, um, wanted to speak to me?”

“Mm,” He clasps his hands, sitting them on his desk. “I called you here to discuss your grades,” he says, “you're a clever girl, we're both aware of that. You could be doing so much better, but there's something distracting you, correct?”

For a brief moment thick, uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you. You rummage through your brain for explanations. How could you tell him that he's the distraction? That all your troubles were somehow connected to him.

“I, uh, haven't been keeping up with my studies lately,” you stammer, “My sleep schedule has been kinda messed up,” Because of you. “So, when I get that in order I should be good.”

He frowns, narrowing his eyes slightly; he doesn't look convinced. Standing up, he makes his way to you. He stops in front of you, looming over you like a shadow. He's of average height, but you still have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You’re struck by the fragrance of his cologne— god, he smells amazing. He places a hand on your shoulder, you tense up almost immediately. His hand is so big. Shaking those thoughts away, you nervously await his next word.

“If you don't compose yourself, I fear I may have to take on a more… hands-on approach.” he tuts, giving your shoulder a nearly painful squeeze. You blink, dazed. You swallow once more, desperately trying to wet your throat. “I understand,” you utter, voice airy like you'd been running a marathon. You feel dizzy. His words buzzing in your head like tv static.

You honestly just want to get out of here, and wait out the heat that’s building between your thighs. Pleased with your response, he smiles at you. A lazy, feline grin, and you can see the slight indents of his dimples.

“Wonderful!” He replies, gleefully. His hand lets go of your shoulder. Your skin is still throbbing from the contact. “Well, then, you're dismissed.”

When you make it inside, you're panting, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from speed walking all the way home. You let your bag drop onto the floor, unconcerned with where it lands. You sigh, exasperated. There's a pressure in your chest, or it could be described as a warmth. Or an ache. Or all those things at once. You weren't sure— nor do you really care. All you know is his words keep replaying in your head, muddling all your thoughts.

You practically run to your bed, exhausted from your own thoughts. Before you can attempt to stop it, he's invading your head for the umpteenth time. You groan. That warmth in your chest begins trickling down, pooling in the space between your legs. You can still feel his hand on your shoulder, the dull ache of the squeeze. Flipping onto your back, you stare vacantly at the ceiling. You could only deny yourself for so long. Placing your feet flat on the mattress, your hand slips past the band of your panties. A little relaxation couldn't hurt. Especially with how pent up you've been, It was well deserved.

You let out a breathless little whine when your fingers brush your swollen clit. God, you needed this. You run a finger through your folds, the slick sticks your skin. Using your wetness to ease the friction, you rub slow circles on your clit, and your eyes flutter shut. You could see him on the back of your eyelids. Your hips buck up pathetically into your own hand. You're leaking, cunt quivering around nothing.

You could still smell him. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, even now it lingered in your nose. Rich and velvety. Something that wealthy decadents would wear just to let you know you'd never be able to afford it. You push a finger in, various curses fall from your lips. His hands– my god, his hands. They're so big. So strong. You slip another finger in. The heel of your hand grinds against your clit, and the feeling sends chills down your spine.

You're a writhing, squirming mess on your bed. The squelching from your fingers thrusting into your dripping cunt has the tips of your ears burning, but you don't stop. You picture him, his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, methodically fucking them in and out of you. You imagine him curling them inside of you, and you mimic the motion in real life, sending another rush of slick gushing out. You think about the sweet purr of his voice, urging you on— instructing you to cum, so you do. You come hard, mumbling his name like he's your new god.

The shower after is long and quiet, you spend a good portion letting the water run down your body to soothe your tense muscles. You don't play any music or hum anything. You’re barely thinking. Your only goal is to get in bed and pass out. And when you finish, that's exactly what you do. You snuggle into your covers and as soon as your head hits the pillow you're out.

Your eyelids slowly peel apart; heavy. Your entire body feels like a bag of rocks. You lie there, taking long, drawn-out blinks. There's a strange peacefulness in the air. None of the usual worry that fills your head, no noise besides your soft breaths, and the sweet song of the birds outside. You prop yourself up, reaching out to your bedside table to grab your phone. With a click your phone turns on, the sudden light blinds you. Blinking away the blurriness, your eyes begin to focus on the big white numbers: 11:25

You stumble out of the comfort of your bed. You have five minutes to get ready and head out the door. Running to your dresser, you pull out some clothes to wear. How you manage the sleep through your numerous alarms was beyond you, but nevertheless that didn't turn back time. You shuffle into your bra, throw the shirt over your head, and jump into a pair of pants. You're able to get the important parts of your morning routine done. Besides a few things like washing your face and properly brushing your hair. Giving yourself a once-over, you decide you don't look too bad. Just a little lazier than normal but casual enough. Sighing, you depart to class.

Standing in front of the door, you take a deep breath, straighten your back. You can already see his face, his mouth pressed into a hard line. A flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You knock on the door, and wait for it to open. When you hear a soft click, you push the door open, hurrying to your seat. When you sit down, you glance at him and he's already looking at you. Face devoid of any signs of what he's feeling. You pluck the needed supplies out of your bag, and he continues the lesson.

The class goes excruciatingly slow. Focusing seems near impossible, so you resort to scribbling down anything you deem important without actually listening to what he's saying. Which you can only hope doesn't bite you in the ass too much in the future. The class comes to a close, and before you can even think about leaving he's calling your name. You wince, forcing yourself to walk to his desk. He's definitely gonna tear a chunk out of you.

“Sir?” You mutter, ashamed.

“You were late,” he states, plain and simple. His words linger heavily in the air.

“I, um, slept in. I apologize, it was a mistake on my part.” You sputter, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. He lifted his head, eyes piercing into you. Your mouth squeezes shut.

“you slept in,” he echoes, empty. With a stern tone, he adds, “Excuses will not be tolerated, especially after I gave an explicit warning to get yourself together.”

You feel queasy, like your stomach rolling in on itself. You don't know what to say. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, rattles your ribcage, reverberating through your entire body. You don't know what to do that doesn't make you seem more of a fool than you already are. So you say the only thing that's worked for you so far.

“I know, sir. I am truly sorry.”

“Indeed you are,” he purrs as inches closer to you, fingertips dragging against his desk. His intense eye contact frightens you, makes you feel like he'd put a giant red target on you: open prey. A strange, uncomfortable heat flushing your body, feels akin to little fires starting from the tips of your fingers. He stops in front of you, closer than you would deem comfortable, but you couldn't move— something willing you to stay right where you are. A need.

You feel trapped, or rather, you're paralyzed. Even though there's nothing constraining you, and all you have to do is walk out the room. You can't move; his eyes immobilize you, demanding that you stay. Reluctantly, you obey. He settles a hand on your shoulder, “yet, you're not sorry enough to listen.” Before you can defend yourself, his hand slowly starts traveling up, gently wrapping around your neck. You notice, but oddly enough, you choose not to question it. “So, I must ask, what's distracting you? And there's no need for any falsities, my dear.”

You freeze, eyes wide. Dumb and glassy, fawn-like. “it’s- it's really not important, and I promise that I'll straighten out my behavior. It's been a rough week.” you murmur, the tips of your ears burning.

He frowns, hand flexing around your neck. You don't know if it was intentional, but it gets his point across all the same. “Like I said, there's no reason for further deception.”

Sucking in a deep breath and closing your eyes, you mentally agree he's right and getting it off your chest could probably do you some good. “It's you. You're my problem– or my distraction, in your words.”

He doesn't look fazed. In fact, he looks like he knew before you even opened your mouth. He looked like he could tell you every thought you had verbatim. After a moment of silence, he inquires, “how long?”

Innocuous, but still you shy away from him. Your mouth squeezes shut, and your head is about to turn to the side, but he's capturing your face in his hand— forcing you to look at him. His grip is firm, nails lightly digging into the fat of your cheeks.

“since the, um, first day” you murmur, skittish.

He gives a slight nod. He knew you were attracted to him, but he had ignored it. Flicking off your open desire as a fleeting crush. That, like the other girls, you'd move on. Unfortunately for the two of you, you never did. But day after day of seeing the desperation mixed with adoration swirling around in your big, bright doe eyes, even though he would never speak it aloud, stirred something in him. And now, you’re in front of him with your heart in your hands. that pathetic, helpless look on your pretty face. it set something off within him, a spark of heat he couldn't ignore.

“Is that so…” he responds, casually. Offhandedly, even. He’s pensive, looking at you with a blank face. He’s always withdrawn, always hard to read. You never can guess what's going on in that head of his, and that was something you admired. But right now, you wished you could crack open his skull and hear his thoughts for yourself.

The tension is tangible, turning the air thick. You wish he would do anything to rid you of this horrible ache in your chest. Shoo away the sinking pit in your stomach that grows the more his silence drags on.

“Do something,” you whisper. You don't know what to expect. You can't begin to predict what he'll do with your confession, but you figure he'll send you off with a broken heart and your tail tucked between your legs.

His face scrunched up, and then it straightened out. turning eerily calm with a strange sense of resolve. unceremoniously, his mouth crashes into yours. hungry and ravenous. For a second, you didn't reciprocate. you were stupefied by his forwardness. you had expected many things but not a kiss. After gaining your bearings, you carefully carefully began to kiss back, following the pace he had set. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. you whimper, and he lets out a low groan, lapping away the metallic liquid.

your heart hammered in the confines of your chest. you were high off the taste of him. a mixture of mint and nicotine. you wanted more, you wanted everything he was willing to dish out. your hands gripped at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. it was so surreal— his warmth, his scent, his lips on yours. it was something you couldn't let fall through your fingers. Then without pulling away, he’s spinning you around, backing you up until you're perched on the edge of his desk.

Your mind is misty. your vision blurs at the edges like a gossamer film is covering it. If it's from the lack of oxygen, or how incredibly unreal the situation is still impossible to ascertain. He pulls away to attach himself to your neck, leaving feverish open mouth kisses on your neck. You can feel him inhaling against your skin, breathing you in. Without warning, he digs his teeth into the thin skin between the junction of your neck and shoulder.

He laves his tongue over the indents left behind, and you take it as a silent apology. James squeezes your thigh, massaging it. You’re soft to the touch, pliant. Almost pillowy. His hand snakes down, down, down. Slipping into your pants, past the band of your panties. His fingers brush against your sensitive clit, and you spread your legs further to give him more room. You're leaking over the pads of his fingers, and he dips lower, collecting it. He smears your wetness on your aching bud in tight, deliberate circles. You let out soft pants, rolling your hips against him, desperate for more contact.

“More,” you whine. A small pout tugging at your plump lips.

“you want more, hm? Such a greedy little thing you are,” he croons, giving your clit a mean pinch. It yanks a squeal out of you. The melange of pain and pleasure confuses you, entices you. You give him a meek nod tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. He plunges two fingers in your needy cunt, and your back curves. He hums, pumping his fingers into you with a steady pace. He rolls your aching nub beneath his thumb. It's methodical, automatic. Downright robotic the way he splits you apart on his nimble fingers. He touches you like he's known you for an entire lifetime, strumming your chords like he knows exactly what to do to make you cry out.

His fingers are long, slender, and so, so pretty. And god does he know how to use them. With pinpoint precision, he's curling his fingers inside of you, pressing that spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into your skull. You're gushing around him, and the squelch of it is obscene. It's embarrassing how you fall apart merely from his deft fingers. Nonsensical babbles fall from your mouth, too high off pleasure to make sense, but he doesn't seem to mind. Soon, a coil begins to tighten in your groin. A buzzing heat in your lower region. It's undeniable, inescapable.

“M gonna cum, don't stop– please, please, please.” You babble, your fingers gripping for purchase on his desk.

Frissions of pleasure shoot through your body like lightning. Your mouth falls agape, and you tilt your head back. The coil snaps, and you quickly begin to unravel around his fingers. He eases you through it, doesn't stop until you've stopped trembling, and then he's sliding you off the desk. He turns you around, and places a sizable hand on your back, bending you over the table. He hastily tugs your pants down, leaving them bunched up at your mid-thigh.

You feel the tip of his cock probe your entrance. Nervous, you press your warm face against the varnished wood, letting a wave of relief wash over you from its coldness. He doesn't give you time to prepare before he's bottoming out. The stretch burns, a dull incessant ache. You don't realize you're gritting your teeth until the feeling ebbs and shifts into velvety pleasure. To your surprise, his thrusts are a measured pace, rhythmic. Maybe he was taking mercy on you, but he quickly loses the pace for something rougher. Fast and hard, thrusts that jolt you forward, edge of the desk biting into your hips.

“is this what you wanted? to be bent over my desk like the needy little harlot you are.” you let out a high pitched whine at that, cunt fluttering around his cock. he was so crude, so incredibly mean, but he was right. he's so right that it's embarrassing.

you feel a vascular hand wrap around your neck, tugging you into an arch. “say it, tell me this is what you wanted,” he grunts, hips snapping hard against yours, it was downright painful.

“this is what I wanted,” you cry out, nodding your head. “good girl,” he utters, his tone ominously dark. it sent chills racing down your spine. his other hand wraps around your neck, and he begins to squeeze. at first, it's harmless, it's not tight enough to do damage, just applying pressure. it wasn't until he didn't stop squeezing that you started to panic. eyes going wide and glassy, your hands tried to peel his hands away to no avail. so you tried to scratch at them, in hopes that he'd finally pull away. but he didn't budge. your lungs were starting to burn, your thoughts getting increasingly fuzzy.

despite all of this, he didn't stop his ruthless thrusting. your cunt clamped down on his cock, squeezing him for all that he's worth. your vision starts to blur, everything begins melting together. your hands drop back down to the desk, and you can feel yourself going limp in his hold. you couldn't tell if you were simply going to pass out, or if you close your eyes you're going to die, but you didn't want to find out.

a dribble of drool slinks down your chin. your head is throbbing. there's a dull ringing in your ears, and it's becoming harder to keep yourself awake or alive. feeling your eyes closing on their own, you felt stinging tears rushing down your cheeks. then, you felt it, a sudden warmth in your lower region. that familiar ache in your womb. a few more harsh thrusts, and you were leaking all over his cock. he followed suit, thick ropes of cum fill you up soon after. thankfully, he let go. you thought he was going to kill you for a second.

gasping, you lurched forward, letting yourself rest on the desk. your head was spinning and your legs felt like jello. you didn't speak, just laid there. It takes you a minute to collect yourself. Especially after fearing for your life. You were pretty sure he was going to kill you. He pulls out of your wordlessly, slipping his cock back in his pants. Once you convince yourself that you're okay, you pull up your pants. The feeling of his cum gushing out of you is kinda gross but you can deal. You're going straight home anyway so you can wash it off when you get there.

He doesn't say anything until you're walking away, "I hope to see you again tomorrow. We still have much to improve after class."

The implications are enough to have you red-faced and very excited for the day to come. You don't know why you're still fooling around with him. Despite the fact that he may be dangerous. It entices you further like the dumb little girl you are. So, like an idiot, you give a coy smile over your shoulder, "yes, Mr. March. I'll be there."

#james patrick march #james march #kai anderson #james march x reader #ahs #james march smut #kyle spencer #tate langdon #james patrick march x reader #james march x you #evan peters smut #i love him so much #kit walker #jpm x reader #american horror story #kai anderson x you #tate langdon x reader #kyle spencer x reader #kit walker x y/n #jimmy darling x you #jadesfic

[3vergr3en]

begging on my knees for nicholas headcannons 🤲🏻 and thank you for writing for &team!!!

Nicholas Boyfriend Headcanons 💫

(☁️) PAIRING . idol!nicholas x fem!reader

(🐚) CONTENT. disgusting filthy fluff!!

(🎙️) A/N . you, anon, and everyone else who requests more &team content are soo sweet and kind 🤧 and everyone who supports my work, as well as reposting them— thank you all !! I love y’all sm ����💞

he buys you guys matching jewelry <3

and they were not cheap either.

as much as you try and negotiate with him, he's stubborn.

so ultimately, you find yourself wearing a bracelet that has his name engraved on the inner clasp.

he loves wearing them in general but likes them more when he's on tour.

the reason why is that it makes him feel like you're there with him,

and that gives him a boost of confidence for when he goes to perform <3

he really likes taking care of his people

"Nicholas, I'm starving, could we go get something to eat?"

"Choose whatever you want, it's my treat"

and on days when you'd offer to pay,

"Babe, you paid for dinner last time."

he declines you, urging that you shouldn't need to pay,

"And I'll pay for it again." He states, "You don't need to worry, y/n. It's truly nothing."

He eases your concerns with a peck on the lips <3

He doesn't want you wearing hoodies that aren't his

you thought it was a little odd at first until he ended up winning you over when he explained his reasoning

"There's no point in buying another hoodie that not only doesn't smell like me but it just doesn't hoodie like how mine does, y'know?"

you found it amusing how passionate he was over this.

another reason he's too prideful to admit is that he just likes to have other people see that you're wearing his clothes 🙈

you're his wallpaper!!

both lock screen and home screen!

and it's vise versa on your part too

while he has pictures of you that were aesthetically pleasing,

yours, on the other hand, was a picture of his mouth wide open, ready to take a big bite of his food <3

"baby.. why that photo?" He whines, side-eyeing you with a slight frown.

Through your wheezing, you managed out, "You--cackle--looked so--inhale--cute!"

even if he was a little embarrassed, he couldn't help but smile a little at how hard you were laughing.

he's actually so in love with you.

he's one of those boyfriends who claims they hate babytalk,

but once you have him in your arms, fingers gently combing through his black locks,

he indulges in a little bit of baby talk with you.

and although his self-respect and the image he carries would be beyond repair if his members ever caught him,

all of his stress just melts away whenever you cradle him in your arms, whispering sweet nothings into his ear while your hands work their magic.

"Does my baby wan' kissies?" You coo, combing back his bangs to plant an open-mouthed kiss on his forehead.

he's so lost in the zone, that he fails to notice your phone propped up against the pillow,

"mhm,, I wan' your kisses.."

"Yeah? Want to tell the guys how bad you want my kissies?"

His head immediately snaps up, and his fear-filled eyes make contact with the phone camera.

"TURN THAT OFF--"

yeah, he was fighting for his life in the group chat that day.

#&team nicholas #&team imagines #&team x reader #&team #wang yixiang #nicholas #andteam #andteam nicholas #andteam x reader #andteam imagines #andteam fluff

[witchy-scribblings]

hibino kafka? more like hubbyno kafka (mdni)

❀ kafka who loves kissing you more than anything, and will have his lips on you at any possible time. this clown here loves to press the wettest smooch on your cheek just as much as he loves kissing you softly while you rock to the sound of the news in the background.

❀ kafka who's always texting you. his name will constantly be popping up on your phone, be it to wish you a good day at work, to complain about some inconvenience at his job, or to remind you that he loves you for the seventh time that morning.

❀ kafka who had always been okay with his bachelor apartment looking like a wreck, but since he started dating you no dishes pile up in the sink, the trash is taken out, and the cleaning is kept up with.

❀ kafka who immediately started getting extra toothbrushes, towels and other supplies the moment your relationship started looking serious, in hopes that it would incite you to come over more often.

❀ kafka who thanks his lucky stars every time he gets to wake up next to you because holy shit how did a loser like him pull a beauty like you? (it's fine we love losers 'round here)

❀ kafka who can never get enough of slow mornings with you. he often has you staying over at his place, and his bathroom is too small to let you brush your teeth side by side, so he gets the next best thing: you straddling his hips while you sit on the counter, peacefully getting ready for the day.

❀ kafka who gets a little insecure sometimes, especially before becoming an officer. he doesn't need constant reassurance, but there are days when he can't help staring at the mirror a little longer, a little harsher.

❀ kafka who falls harder still when you assure him that his dad body is extremely sexy, and that you love that he's so big and warm he's literally perfect to cuddle with.

❀ kafka who feels so much better when he sees how happy wearing his huge baggy clothes makes you. he has had to give up too many hoodies to count at this point, not that he's complaining.

❀ on that note, kafka who loves it when you're wearing one of his oversized shirts and nothing else - well, except perhaps a pair or wooly thigh-high socks during the colder months. After all, the central heating in his apartment is pretty bad, so you have to work with what you have.

❀ kafka who presses down on your covered hamstrings to keep you folded nearly in half while his fat cock plunges in and out of your soaking wet pussy; he's obsessed with the unrestricted sight of the filthy mess he's making out of your swollen cunt.

❀ kafka who sometimes absently wonders if you would be okay with him shapeshifting to fuck you better. he knows that kaiju no. 8 looks scary as shit and that he still has a hard time controlling the extra strength, but some twisted part of him wants to see how much further he could push you (little does he know his fans are monsterfuckers)

❀ kafka who ultimately is a pretty vanilla lover who just lives for those moments late at night when he has you sitting back against his soft chest with your legs spread embarrassingly wide while his thick fingers play you like a goddamn fiddle.

❀ kafka who, yes, is 100% a giver in every aspect of your relationship. but boy does he turn into a whore whenever you pay some well-deserved attention to him. he'll take anything you're willing to offer, but worship his body and his cock with your hands and tongue and he's done for.

❀ kafka who is not shy per se, but he gets really horny really fast if you start dirty talking to him. it might take a little bit of confidence for him to reciprocate, but once he warms up he's pulling out all the "yes, baby, want your mouth on me so bad", or the "i'm not gonna stop until you make a fucking mess on my sheets, got it?"

❀ kafka who used to dread laundry day, but will now happily change his sheets everyday if it means he got to fuck you good the night before.

brother i’m so down bad for this himbo he’s making me have unholy thoughts on finals week

#kaiju no. 8 #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fanfic #kn8 x reader #kn8 smut #kn8 fanfic #kafka hibino #kafka hibino x reader #kafka hibino smut #kafka x reader #kafka smut

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 1

"Wicked Old Witch" by John Fogerty

#song of the day #it's May now! why does time! #did not finish the work trainings today. did finish setting up the tank for Duncan's frog #hopefully we'll be getting the frog next Saturday so we wanted time for the tank to cycle a while first #today's song comes up in Inheritance by Nora Roberts which I mentioned in those book asks last week (that was last week right) #it's got a ghost in (got lots of ghosts actually. pretty cool ghost setup) who communicates by playing different songs on the MC's tablet #I really love characters like that. very very fun #Bumblebee from Transformers my precious baby <3 #also there was a 'dancehall demon' in this witchy cozy mystery I read the other day #not a great book would not recommend but the demon guy was pretty fun. reminded me of Lorne from Angel kinda #if he spoke in his own voice everybody around would swoon so he had magic background music he used to communicate #it's always a neat mechanic #though if it's not a specific line being played as a specific response Bumblebee-style #but (as in Inheritance and the dancehall demon book both) rather the title of the song that's meant to be the message #then it does require the other character(s) in the scene to have a really quick and accurate ability to recognize and name songs #I kinda like the idea of a song playing and the speaking character going 'oh uh actually I don't know this one. what is it?' #and then either they have to pull out their phone and shazam it or some bullshit #or it plays through and they have to wait however long and then if/when the title line plays the ghost boosts the volume for a split second #like fingerspelling the one sign you don't know but much much slower and with more fast-forwarding through guitar solos

[creature-from-unknown-orgins]

I’m so tired and emotional, anything slightly positive you say will make me sob

#/neutral #I did cry for half an hour about an event ending…. #BUT OTHERS DID TOO #ITS FINEEEEE #I’m just very tired #please say hi to me in my ask box if you see this #I’ve missed all of you little people in my phone #<- has only been gone from tumblr for 4 days #I could not survive without this app /hj #this is one of those unhinged tired rambly Jamie tags isn’t it #typing that name makes me so happy :) #I wish more people used it with my legal name #so like switching between them #but most of my cis friends don’t really get it #which is fine #but every time someone says it #it makes me smile #oh well #good night #and well done if you got to the end of the tags #have a cookie: 🍪 #good night for real now :)

[schadenfreudich]

"Kitzler" could be the last name in a german comedy where everyone pretends like a guy basically called "Mr Clitoris" is not really weird.

Together with his friend Herr Lümmel (penis). And then going with the ambiguity of "Freund", you just never know if they're really good friends or boyfriends.

#obviously they're really good friends that fuck. or maybe they're not #there are some really weird german last names. those aren't too far out there #-hans #i feel like i'm gonna lose phone rights one day. lol

[florida3exclamationpoints]

For the 2 people who voted in my poll and were both unaware of Ruby's existence

Ruby was my hedgehog :) I got her in January 2016 when I was 12 and she was my best little buddy :) she got cancer in 2019 and had to be put down that September. I kept a few of her quills in a little vial charm on a necklace and wore it everyday for years, I just recently stopped wearing it everyday bc I got a different everyday necklace for my best friend. Here are pics of my beautiful baby girl

#first one is from the first few days that i had her 🥲 #second is the first time she was comfortable enough to let me hold her with my bare hands #third one isn't particularly special its just cute teefies #last one is the last pic i took of her the morning before we went to the vet for her to be put down :( #also fun fact about pre ruby: i was OBSESSED with hedgehogs for YEARS #and begged my parents and did so much research and everything until they finally let me bc they knew i was prepared #and when i started looking at available babies. i didn't have a preference between a boy or a girl #and i didn't have any dream name in mind #but her litter were all named after gemstones #and the first time i saw her pic i was like omg. thats my baby #and i knew i had to keep her name bc it was so perfect #bc ruby = red which is my favorite color #AND ruby is my birthstone #also i should have more pics of her than i do but i think they're somewhere on my computer #and im too nervous that they're lost to look for them bc i dont wanna find out that they actually are lost #ahaha #most of the pics of her on my phone are from when she was sick i really want the older ones #also. those years of research on hedgehogs. they hold up #im an expert. im so serious about that. ask me anything about owning a hedgehog #im educated. #ruby #my hedgehog

[woulddieforloki]

anyways, while I'm working on my Perry the Platypus cosplay, I still think the best fanfic I never wrote was the one where Loki falls from the Bifrost and crashlands on the rollercoaster from the first episode of Phineas and Ferb. how does Loki not break the rollercoaster while flying through space at hundreds or thousands of miles per hour? easy! it's a cartoon! you can do anything in a cartoon!

on one hand, Loki's lucky. Phineas doesn't make him pay for his ticket. on the other hand, he's just fallen through space for a solid hour at minimum and now he's going all up and down and upside down on this rollercoaster that's definitely not OSHA certified. needless to say, he does get off the rollercoaster and puke.

and then, because it's a cartoon and anything can happen in a cartoon, Loki ends up moving in with the Flynn-Fletcher family because he really has nowhere else to go. he ends up joining Phineas and Ferb and their friends with a bunch of their different inventions, his magic makes it a million times easier, and they have the time of their life. at no point does the kids' mom find out that Loki is a god, much to Candace's chagrin.

most important scene: the kids mention that Danville Pride is today, to which Loki replies, "What is pride? Pride in what?" so Phineas explains the concept of the LGBTQ+ community, and Loki's like O_O because he is every single letter of that acronym and he's always been taught that it's something that doesn't really need to be discussed. he can walk around as whatever gender he wants to (if he wants to face Asgard's misogyny), he can sleep with anybody he wants to, but he should do so without making any kind of big deal about it. and Phineas and Ferb share a look and Phineas goes "Ferb, I know what we're gonna do today!"

so, after a brief "Where's Perry?", the kids take Loki to their local Pride celebration, where they get him all decked out in all different kinds of pride merch and he gets his face painted with a rainbow and he's honestly living his best life rn

and then...

MISSION MARVEL TIME, BITCHES ✌️

so if you've never seen Mission Marvel, a) go do that what the fuck and b) Doofenshmirtz accidentally steals the superheroes' powers and the heroes think it was Phineas and Ferb who did because Reasons™ that make sense if you watch it so WATCH IT. it does take place in a different Marvel universe than the MCU but don't think too hard about it and it can totally work out

so the kids finish their activity for the day, and they're just kinda chilling inside when the doorbell rings, and Loki goes to get it because he's nothing if not a helpful bean!

and outside the Flynn-Fletcher house is Thor and his friends and Loki suddenly decides he is not a helpful bean and he closes the door and walks away.

so they ring the doorbell again (because they're the heroes and this is a kids' cartoon and they're not going to break in) and Phineas opens it this time and invites the heroes in, and shit hits the fan. Thor's pissed that this is how he finds out that his brother is still alive and he absolutely assumes that Loki stole the heroes' powers and Loki won't even deny it because he wants to piss his brother off even more, and it's Phineas who has to de-escalate the situation and assure the Avengers that Loki didn't do anything (except a little manual labor because they're ten and he's a god), but they promise to help the heroes get their powers back, much to Loki's chagrin.

but, even though Loki doesn't want to do this, he really doesn't want them to do it alone, so he reluctantly joins them in their SHEDquarters while they try to figure it out. Thor and Loki keep making passive-aggressive comments to each other, and Loki is as antagonistic as inhumanly possible. Thor crosses the line with one wrong remark, probably about Asgard or Jotunheim or something, and Loki storms out.

He shows up again when Phineas, Ferb, and the Avengers try to fight the bad guys in the mall and he basically singlehandedly saves their asses until superhero Perry shows up. As everyone's favorite shapeshifter, Loki has absolutely no problem figuring out that this beaver duck dude is the Flynn-Fletchers' platypus. He has no idea what to do with that information, but it sure is information that he now has apparently.

Loki's still mad at Thor and he still refuses to work with them, and he's convinced everyone will be happier for it. He ends up accidentally bonding with Candace and Isabella over feeling useless and unwanted (and he absolutely gets his own verse in Only Trying to Help because it's what he deserves goddammit), but unlike the two girls who are hell-bent on changing that, Loki is content wallowing in his own self-pity. He's tried this whole "being important" thing before and he ended up in self-exile on Midgard for it. He's not putting himself through that again.

But then the powerless heroes decide to face the villains again, and with Candace and Isabella in space and Perry nowhere to be seen, he realizes it is once again up to him to keep the tri-state area safe (which he knows is a stupid priority but he's gotten kind of attached to these stupid little humans and he doesn't want them to get hurt).

Then the heroes get their powers back and they join Loki (and Perry and the mysterious waffle gun in the sky) and beat the shit out of the villains. Thor and Loki work together in the heat of the battle which serves as a Great Bonding Moment™, and once the villains are gone, they have a nice lil heart-to-heart where they both apologize for their past. Thor remarks that Loki seems to have grown a lot over the last couple of months and tries to bring Loki home with him, but Loki refuses. He'll never be welcome back into Asgard, no matter what Thor may say.

But he is welcome with the Flynn-Fletchers, and there's nowhere else he'd rather be. Thor's a bit reluctant to leave him behind, but they do agree that this won't be the last time they see each other and that Thor will definitely come by to visit soon.

And early the next morning, before anyone else is awake, Perry gets an alert that he's needed in his headquarters (presumably to talk to or about Fury). He quietly sneaks off, only to find Loki waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him. They have a very nice "conversation" (not that Perry speaks) about the superhero Ducky Momo they saw the day before, and Loki assures him that his secret is safe, thus starting a much-needed bromance between Loki and Perry because as the proud owner of both the WouldDieForLoki URL and the @WouldDieForPerryThePlatypus URL, I think they should be besties.

#ngl im not working on perry rn I typed the first half of this the other day when I was working on his beak and I had to wait for it to dry #but yeah i never wrote this fic but I wish I did #i used to be The most knowledgable person about Phineas and Ferb ever I swear #(not really but i was pretty damn good) #i swear i memorized the entire show when quarantine first started #those were the good ol days #anyways go follow woulddieforperrytheplatypus i post about phineas and ferb #obviously #because the blog name is about perry #okay sorry im going to bed now #(or so i say but ill definitely be on my phone for at least another twenty minutes) #back on my bullshit #fic idea?

[fingertipsmp3]

Was straight up Not Doing Well but then I met a cat and now I think I’m okay

#there was nothing specifically wrong with me. it’s just been one of those days #i woke up way too early for no reason and couldn’t get back to sleep and then my grandparents decided to read all the forms i’m bringing #to my job interview on monday (an application form basically) without asking me and ignored me trying to tell them ‘there’s no info about #the job in there’ and also straight up ‘please don’t read that. there’s no reason for you to read that’ #i guess there’s no reason for me to be irked by it because everything in there is stuff they already know about me but like.. it struck me #as rude. and then they didn’t even put it back on the table where they found it?? they put it on a random chair #then i pretty much got ordered to tidy up #then my friend called me having an anxiety attack and i had to run over to her house to make sure the doors were locked (they were) #i also had to bang on every door and window to make sure neither the dog nor the baby had been left home alone by her mom #so now the neighbours probably think i was burgling the place. i had her on the phone so i was prepared to hand it over if anyone questioned #me but still. it can’t have looked great. at one point i was literally in the back garden yelling the kid’s name trying to prove a negative #anyway the kid and the dog weren’t in the house alone. so that’s good #but Then i went for a walk around the village (to help me emotionally deal with all of this) and i sat in the church garden for a bit #and a chunky black cat purred at me and came and sat on my lap. he had long claws so it did hurt a bit i won’t lie #i think next time i might bring an extra jacket so there can be a layer in between him and my thighs. he was very friendly though #i might also bring him a toy because i’m pretty sure he lives in the garden and i know at least one person feeds him but he probably doesn’t #have a ton of stuff to do. and i don’t want to bring more food because he really is Chonky #which i mean.. same but i don’t want to disrupt the balance of whatever dietary plan he may be on #anyway. i love cats #personal

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

Called up my coworker yesterday with the promise of Drama and ended up telling her that I was telling other people she doesn’t love me anymore

#she was actually mad at me and it was kind of funny #she was like FUCK U I DO NOT NEED THIS NOW #I did also tell her about actual drama #but I was also like. u don’t spend time with me anymore. someone asked about u yesterday and I was like she doesn’t hang out with me #and she was like TAKE IT BACK FORREAL #anyways we were on the phone for an hour and a half after work #she yelled at me half the time and the other half I yelled at her! peak communication #I’m making her stop being a fucking child and talk to someone in our office she’s beefing with #and she’s sending her a non apology and I’m fine with that at least they’re talking #sometimes u have to give the 37 year olds life advice cause they’re IDIOTS trying to cause PROBLEMS FOR THEMSELVES #I think the most frustrating relationship dynamic in the world is someone the Same as you #but a lot older and therefore horrifically set in their ways and completely non receptive to feedback #it’s like looking in one of those circus mirrors and being like FUCK THAT COULD BE ME IN 15 YEARS IF I DONT GET MY SHIT TOGETHER #V v funny of me to be like ‘oh she’s dead to me’ to other people in the office when they ask about her #and for her to be like ‘oh she’s just traveling’ #one day I’m gonna be less dramatic and more normal #but apparently the coworker who she is having problems with was also going around saying that so.. I do need to take it back #cause she’s important now and I’m making her look like an asshole who left all her other people behind when she became important #but MAYBE she should HANG OUT WITH ME MORE #delete later #anyways. clarified that she doesn’t hate me. my communication skills are great actually because if I’m mad at u #u will know pretty soon. #also she spent like 5 min name dropping **** and I was like. really. are u for real rn I GET IT UR IMPORTANT

[bowithoutadaemon]

either ur the 2nd person named bo atw37c3 or i can predict ur hair color lel

Well since I am not there (posting about cooking at home while watching the stream could have been a hint for that lol) there's gotta be another Bo.

If you feel like it you can tell the other Bo that Bo says they have a cool name. And judging by your comment they probably have a really cool hair color too.

But like don't make it weird or uncomfortable for Bo. That just wouldn't be very nice of you.

#Actually I think there's probably more people called Bo or Mo or Jo. Because all those are good short gender neutral names #The person (my dad) who is actually there also uses a 2 letter name but since last year he ''upgraded'' to 4 letters #So that he can use it as his dect phone number because he's gotten way more involved in ccc in person events #I prefer to stay online. At the rC3 2021 I did go to the Systemabsturz concert in person though because that band is cool #But that was my only in person ccc thing so far #My dad really really wants me to join him for camp or congress one day but idk yet. Seems exhausting? But in a fun way?