#I don’t know if I’ve ever made that clear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theemporium · 2 days

Note

♥️47 w/ Nico Hischier… please and thank you

this is inspired by the return of the moustache but fuelled by my brain being fried from uni so the smut is mediocre at best🤠thank you for requesting!

47. "You heard me. I want you to sit on my face."

To be perfectly candid, you were less than subtle about admiring your boyfriend’s new look for the off-season.

But, as his girlfriend, it was your right to helplessly ogle your boyfriend after he decided to shave the rest of his beard short and leave his moustache to be accompanied by some stubble. Add in the fact he had still put off cutting his hair—thank every fucking superior being for that one—and had a new glow about him since the stress of the hockey season was finally off his shoulders, it was impossible not to stare.

He was just so pretty and he was all yours. And, yeah, you really fucking missed staring at Nico’s face with no practices or games or meetings getting in your way.

It just never occurred to you that Nico would ever call you out on the blatant way you would ogle him since he brought back the moustache, which is why his words completely caught you off guard.

“What?”

Nico grinned at you, so fucking smug and sure of himself as he placed his hands on his hips like you were talking about the weather. “You heard me,” he said, his voice low and sweet and far too fucking melodic for you to really concentrate on his ego when he sounded like that. “I want you to sit on my face.”

You blinked, standing in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the joined ensuite bathroom. You stared at him, your mind whirling with a million different thoughts but you couldn’t bring yourself to say a single word.

“Been thinking about it all week,” he continued as he started to close the distance between you, his eyes glinting with an emotion that made your stomach twist in desire. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking, baby. Tell me you haven’t thought about it too.”

“I—” You stuttered out, your face burning in response. Because truthfully, you had been thinking about it. But your thoughts had been based around Nico pinning your hips to the mattress, to settle between your legs and to let you feel the scratch of his beard across your sensitive inner thighs until you were left begging and panting and whining for more.

It never crossed your mind for you to be the one on top.

“Just want my pretty girl on top of me,” Nico hummed as he reached for you, his large hands engulfing the back of your head and it made your brain short circuit for a few moments. “Let me have a taste, hm?”

“Nico,” you murmured, and the hesitancy was clear in your voice. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea—”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“I–” You let out a noise before shrugging. “What if I squish you or—”

You barely had a chance to react to the snort he let out before his hands dropped from your head, reaching for your thighs and lifting you into his arms with an ease that didn’t feel human at all. You blinked, left speechless as Nico shamelessly grinned up at you, walking back towards the bed with you in his arms.

“I can handle it, baby,” he said, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he emphasised his point. “Now, be a good girl and sit on my face, hm? Wanna fucking drown in you.”

And you really couldn’t be blamed for being unable to say no to those pretty brown eyes staring up at you like he wanted to devour you. You could, however, be blamed for that naive voice in the back of your mind that told you that you’d be in control because you were on top.

It took all of five minutes for that belief to crumble the second Nico got his hands on you.

“Fuck,” you let out a high-pitched whine, head tipped back and lips parted as you felt his lips wrap around your clit and suck, humming deeply as he did.

His arms were locked around your thighs, keeping you in position with his hands pawing your ass and guiding your rocking hips. His hair was dishevelled and messy, spread across the pillow like some twisted angelic painting whilst those pretty brown eyes were now glued to you, watching as he licked and sucked and kissed every single noise out of you.

His chin and lips were glistening with your release, that moustache fucking soaked and his tongue branded with the taste of you—and fuck, Nico truly believed he was in heaven. Because that was the only reasonable explanation for this: for the sight of you on top, your hips rocking and your soaked cunt at his mercy, your hands squeezing your tits and your mouth moaning his name.

It was fucking heaven and it made him rock hard in the flimsy shorts he had put on earlier, probably seconds away from busting a load despite not even touching himself once.

His only coherent thought was that he should have shaved earlier if this was what he could gain from it.

“Fuck, Nico, baby,” you stuttered out, all breathy and panting as you reached one hand down to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly as he groaned against your cunt. “Shit, I-I can’t.”

“One more, schat,” he murmured, his warm breath fanned across your core and it made your legs twitch, and it made Nico smile against your cunt in response. “Please, baby, let me taste you. Let me taste my pretty girl.”

And you were fucking putty in his arms, letting yourself tip over the edge as you clung onto the headboard to keep yourself from keeling over.

Yet, all he could think was that he definitely wasn’t getting rid of the moustache anytime soon.

#cece's cocktail celebration #nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

282 notes · View notes

troybarnesbucky · 7 hours

Text

just returning here after 2 years of not being on this cursed app to say one thing and one thing only. i LEFT this app because of rampant antisemitism and dehumanization that i witnessed two years ago. my last post was about the death of sarah halimi z’l, which you were all silent about. today, six months after the most violent and deadly attack on jews since the Shoah, i return to see how the virulent and disgusting antisemitism that pushed me away from here is even worse than it ever was. i was on tumblr, with various accounts, for more than a decade. it was NEVER this bad but then again, the dehumanization of jews has become so normalized in the last five or six years, so idk why i’m surprised.

well i’m not really surprised. but i’m here because i want to say i told you so, but it’s pointless. you all don’t care. you don’t care that jewish people in your own countries, let alone israel (god forbid lollll) are being abused, attacked, bullied and dehumanized at pre-Shoah levels. you would rather that happen than exhibit nuance, empathy for everyone, or stay silent when you don’t need to say a fucking thing about a conflict miles and miles away from you, in distance and in reality. i’ve lost friends, i’ve lost my last year of education, i lost my mental health, all because when it comes to jews, no amount of repeating the same stupid, violent pattern of dehumanization will teach you non-jews (and yes, some of you jews too) the lesson of antisemitism and its poisonous, conspiratorial and dangerous nature.

we know you don’t care. it’s been made so abundantly clear, not just now but in the last six, seven, eight years. when the only antisemitism you cared about was in a harry potter book, or in trump’s dumbass comments, or in a movie about a jew with a prosthetic nose. and even then most of you didn’t care, you didn’t let us jews define our oppression — so we know you don’t care enough to give us that “privilege” now.

but i know, maybe twenty or thirty years from now, you’ll look at pictures and maybe even history books and remember what you said, did, and fought for. maybe you won’t. maybe you’ll still be sick, poisoned by antisemitism and unable to shake it off. or maybe not, and only then will you realize that you perpetuated this violence, evil, this dehumanization of jews. you called us nazis, you spit at our faces while we begged to be seen, you engaged in violent antisemitism comparable to nazi-era rhetoric. and maybe THEN you’ll feel bad. but then it’ll be too late.

to any jew that comes across this post, you’re not alone. my DMs are always open — i don’t come on this app much but will always be happy to talk. am yisrael chai ❤️

#antisemitism #jumblr #jewish hatred #judaism #am yisrael chai

49 notes · View notes

ludicdoll · 11 hours

Note

hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑

farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic

synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.

a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭

there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.

your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.

you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.

you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.

he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.

“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.

“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.

“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.

you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.

“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.

“hmm?”

“no one’s talking to me anymore.”

“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”

“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”

you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.

you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.

“please?”

you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.

you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.

you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.

“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.

#archie madekwe #archie madekwe x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh #saltburn #saltburn x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #farleigh x reader

28 notes · View notes

reyzxzc · 2 days

Text

The Proposal

summary: nico proposes to riley.

contains: cussing (it’s in all of my writings), fluff, crying, instagram.

————

december 20, 2023.

riley sat with her family and nico at the lake house in michigan. nico didn’t get a flight out to switzerland for christmas this year.

the hughes family was being quiet, like they knew something. everyone but riley. riley felt at a loss, not knowing why everyone was being weird around her.

“okay, someone tell me why everyone is acting so strange.” riley said. nico kissed her head. “no one’s acting strange, my love.”

riley rolled her eyes. “shut up.” riley placed her finger over his lips. “i don’t know what your talking about, my dear sister.” luke shrugged.

jack leaned over the counter, he was the only one who couldn’t keep a secret in their family. “jack.” nico mouthed to him.

jack groaned. “riley, can you um.. come skate with me?” jack asked. this was apart of nico’s plan to propose. “why can’t you just do it with luke or quinn?” riley asked.

“because i miss my sister, is that a problem?” jack asked. “okay.” riley said. jack smiled. riley kissed nico on the cheek and grabbed her coat.

jack opened the door and they walked out to the outdoor rink and put on their skates.

jack and riley got on the ice. “why’d you wanna skate, jack?” riley asked. “i love my big sister, what’s the problem with that?” jack asked, grabbing her hand.

riley hummed. “so no surprise?” riley asked. “no.” jack shook his head. riley hugged jack, kissing his head. jack hugged her back. he was loosing his sister more and more everyday. nico was proposing today.

jack didn’t ever wanna let go. he loves nico, yes. but he doesn’t love loosing his sister. jack has always been an older sisters boy. he would always go to riley when he needed something.

he can’t do that anymore. she’s gonna get married.

“jack?” riley said. jack hummed in response. “you getting tears on my shirt.” riley whispered. “what?” jack wasn’t even aware he was crying.

“sorry. must’ve just got lost in my thought.” jack wiped his tears. “no it’s okay.”

————

riley and jack walked back inside. “i’ll make some hot coco.” riley said, walking to the kitchen. “okay.” jack nodded, sitting on the couch in front of the tv, turning on a christmas movie.

riley made two cups of hot coco and handed one to jack. jack leaned into his sister. “i’m happy for you. i want you to know that, ry. i know i wasn’t at first but i am know.” jack said.

“i know buddy. never in my entire life would i thing you aren’t happy for me.” riley said. jack smiled. “what are we watching?” riley asked. “polar express.” jack smiled.

————

later that day, the table was set and everyone was eating. “um riley.” nico said. “yea?” riley asked, putting her fork down.

nico cleared his throat, which made riley cringe. nico got down one knee. riley gave him a look. nico pulled a ring out of his pocket.

“riley dakota hughes, the past year and a half has been the best off my life. it may seem a little early but i love you, more than anything else in this world. riley, would you do the honors and marry me?” nico asked.

riley nodded. “yes.” riley said. nico let out a sigh, and placed the ring on her finger. nico stood up, riley doing the same. riley hugged him, tightly.

nice kissed her when she pulled away from the hug.

“let’s pop some champagne!” ellen cheered. riley laughed and wiped her eyes. “none for you luke.” riley said. “not even an exception?” luke pouted. riley shook her head.

————

riley_hughes just posted

riley_hughes:

caption: and we’re engaged. i’ve spent countless hours trying to figure out the way to word this. but the only thing that comes to mind is i love you. because that’s all i know. i love you nico. here’s to forever.

tagged// nicohischier

comments:

comments are limited

jackhughes: riley’s all grown up :,)

- riley_hughes: i’m older then you, jack.

lhughes_06: okay wtf, where’s the ‘luke took this photo’??

- riley_hughes: you didn’t tho…

nicohischier: 🫶🏻

- riley_hughes: 🌷

_quinnhughes: that should he me 😔 getting married 😔 that should be me marrying nico😔

- riley_hughes: .

————

41 notes · View notes

foxaftershocks · 1 day

Note

I don’t know if you write smut and this is my first time ever requesting it so I’m a bit shy about it but if you do could you maybe write a sequel to “A Chance Encounter” where Lars gets the ‘reward’ they were talking about lol.

Don't be shy about it. Smut is fun! I hope you enjoy what I wrote.

The walk home felt as if it went on for about a thousand years. You were so aware of his hands on you, brushing over the bare skin of your hand, resting on your hip, fingers tangling with yours. His gaze was heavy when they rested on you. Luxuriating in the feeling of his unhidden desire, you slowed your pace, wondering if the anticipation would only make the whole thing sweeter.

He took the keys from you, opening the door to your apartment. The door shut and the electricity that had been building reached a crescendo. He reached for you, bruised knuckles brushing the apple of your cheek. You didn’t even have to think twice, reaching up, fingers curling around the back of his neck.

“Are you sure you want your reward now, ghost boy?” you asked.

“I’ve earned it,” he replied, dipping his head towards you.

Clearly he was still heated, that first kiss full of fire. He wanted you, that much was clear. He pulled you closer, no build up, kissing you so deeply he stole your breath. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair, blond curls there for you to tug on.

He lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist. His hands on your body was always addictive, making your thoughts spiral. You loved when you were above him, leaning down to kiss him, used to being so much shorter in comparison.

Anticipation had been curling in your stomach the entire way home, the fierce look in his eye making heat melt through your veins. From the moment he’d thrown that punch, defending your honour, you’d wanted to get your hands on him and reward him for all you were worth.

He stumbled towards the couch, lips trailing down your neck. The little noise you made in the back of your throat only seemed to spur him on. He growled into your skin as he sat. Your knees fell either side of his hips, straddling his lap, feeling him beginning to harden beneath you.

Grinding down, his throaty groan was music to your ears. His hands slid up, pushing past the hem of your shirt, seeking out warm skin with calloused fingertips. Your lips were on his, tongues brushing together, exploring his mouth deeper as your hips rocked against him. He dragged his hands up, along your spine, taking moment after moment to make you shiver.

Your fingers tugged on his hair. Teeth nipped at your lower lip. Kissing Lars was one of the joys of your life. He always did it with enthusiasm and a thoroughness that came from his need to be perfect. Where he had been unsure at the beginning of your relationship, his confidence had grown when it came to making you melt.

Sliding your hands down, you were slow as you unbuttoned his shirt, tie loosened and flung to the side. Chasing each newly exposed bit of skin with your lips, he lent back, letting you map his skin with your lips. Tongue darting out, you tasted his skin, the salt and the warmth addictive. His fingers were tracing patterns on the skin of your back and his eyes were at half mast.

You pushed the shirt from his shoulders, his skin soft against your palms. Touching him felt like a privilege. You lent forward again, teeth closing around his earlobe, tugging on it. He groaned, soft in your ear, hands pressing into your spine to bring you closer. Your lips trailed down his neck again, finding where his pulse pounded against your kisses.

“Fuck, love,” tumbled from his lips.

You could feel his length pressing against you. You rocked against it, chasing friction for the throbbing between your legs. Pleasure was pooling and you wanted him in every way possible. But tonight wasn’t about you. It was his reward, not yours.

One large hand cupped your cheek, pulling you back into a kiss. Your hands were on his skin and you were rocking against him, wanting to feel all of him beneath you. Sucking your lower lip into his mouth, you moaned. His hips pressed up, finding your heat.

His fingers were fast as they tugged your shirt over your head, hands cupping your breasts. Your head fell back as played with your tits, fingers finding hardening nipples through your bra. He lent forward, tugging one cup down, lips closing over the hardened peak. The man had a smart mouth, his skill with it not kept purely to wicked words.

“Want this off,” he mumbled against your skin.

Hands reached around unhooking, giving him unfettered access to your breasts. His mouth was hot against you, sucking as one hand played with the other nipple. You were arching into him, offering yourself to him, wanting him to consume you. Your fingers were buried in his hair, urging him on as you moaned his name.

“Want you so fucking much,” he groaned.

He kissed across your chest, giving attention to the other nipple. Your hips were rocking again, grinding down on the hard length beneath you. He was moaning into your skin. You looked down, catching blue eyes already looking up at you. They were molten, simmering with heat, smouldering as he gave a harsh suck. The cocky bastard knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You loved it.

You dragged him back to you, kissing him, your tongue in his mouth and your moans muffled. His hands replaced his mouth, continuing to play with you, circling and squeezing and rolling your nipples. You wanted him closer.

You slipped off his lap, fingers reaching for his belt buckle. On knees, between his legs, you stroked his length through his trousers. His hips pressed up into your touch. Freeing him from his trousers, you took him in your hand, giving a slow stroke. Precum leaked from the tip.

The way he hissed your name as your thumb circled over the head was addictive. His fingers wound through your hair, half lid eyes watching you. You lent forward, tongue giving a small kitten lick to the tip, tasting the salt of him.

“Oh, fuck, love,” he groaned.

You looked up at him again, tongue dragging over your lower lip. You held his gaze for a moment, breathless anticipation hanging in the air. With deliberate movements, you licked him from root to tip. His hips jutted up towards you, a wordless plea for more.

Wrapping your lips around him, you were slow to take him in. His fingers tightened in your hair, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. Drawing back, tongue pressing against that spot under the head at drove him wild. His hips rose to meet you as you slid your lips down again, taking him as deeply as you could.

“Have I told you how perfect you are?” he asked, voice strained.

You hummed around him, watching the way his head fell back, fingers tightening in your hair as he guided you. Your cheeks hollowed, tongue teasing him. Worshipping him was the easiest thing in the world, and you could do it for hours on end if he let you. You were slow with him, taking your time, wanting him to feel every single moment of pleasure. It was his reward, after all. He should be able to enjoy all of it.

Touching him was one of the greatest pleasures in life. Warm skin beneath your palms, mouth working him, cupping and tugging and skimming fingertips until he was making those whining noises that were like a drug to you.

The fingers in your hair dragged you off him, pulling you up until you were back in his lap. Cheeks flushed and eyes dark, he kissed you until flames were consuming you and you were nothing but want. His hands ran down your spine, leaving your nerves lit up in their wake. His hands grasped your ass, pushing you against him until you hissed.

“This is your reward, ghost boy,” you said into his mouth.

“Don’t care,” he growled, “want you.”

You stood, long enough to strip your trousers from your legs, flinging them to one side. He shuffled his down his legs. Fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you closer again, right between his legs. You lent down, kissing him until your head turned dizzy.

“One moment.”

You stepped back, disappearing into the darkness of the bedroom. With the ghost of a memory, you picked your way across the room, rifling through the bedside drawer. Returning, you tossed the condom at him. He didn’t hesitate, tearing the packaging open. You took it from his hands, slow to roll it down his leaking erection, stroking over the hardened length until his hands had grabbed you, pulling you back onto his lap.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked as his lips trailed over your skin.

You huffed a soft chuckle, letting yourself arch into him, grinding unforgivingly against him, the hot throbbing between your legs driving you crazy. His hands kept stroking over your skin, touching you in every way you would allow and when he looked at you it was like he couldn’t believe you were there with him. That you were allowing him to have you. That somehow he’d gotten luckier than he ever could have believed he would be.

“Lars, please,” you begged, needing him inside you.

“Say it again,” he growled, pressing you more insistently against him.

“Please,” you whined.

He lifted you, lining himself up with your entrance. You pushed down, slow, taking him within you, an almost sob coming out with the relief of the feeling. You paused, adjusting to the feeling. His eyes caught yours, holding you there, lips kiss stung and eyes molten.

“You’re wonderful,” he praised, “you feel so good.”

In response you began to move, rising until he was barely in you before you lowered again. The soft groan that came from him was music to your ears. Doing it again, you lingered at the height of your movement. His fingers dug into your hips and pulled you down, his own hips rising to meet you.

“So good,” he groaned again.

You pace increased, watching the way his face changed. Pleasure rippled out and you felt the need to kiss him again. Biting down on the full lower lip that had been tempting you for so long, he gripped you harder.

“Can’t believe anyone would give this up,” he groaned, hands sliding around your body, cupping your breasts again. Thumbs flicking over hardened nipples before he began to roll them between thumb and forefinger.

“Lars,” you moaned, “fuck.”

Your head fell back, his name sweet on your tongue. He lent forward, sucking one into his mouth as you continued to bounce on his cock.

“Never going to let you go,” he mumbled into your skin, “mine. All mine.”

You dragged him back into a kiss, muffling your moans into his mouth. You could feel it, when he began to get close, the way his body began to tighten beneath you. One hand travelled down your body, dipping between your legs. His finger drew tight circles over your clit as he continued to pound into you. Reaching further, deeper in you, over and over he hit that spot within you only he had ever been able to find.

You weren’t in control of your body any more, moving on instinct. Chasing your pleasure, desperate to give him his, it was nothing but rutting against him.

He came, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he tried to muffle himself, going rigid beneath you. You made a high keening noise, continuing to move against him. His fingers were still moving over the bundle of nerves between your thighs even as he began to catch his breath.

His name was long and drawn out as your own pleasure crashed into you. Your internal walls were clamping down on him, keeping him within you. The way you kissed him was sloppy, tongue and teeth and mumbled praise.

You slumped against him, face coming to rest against his neck. His hand was stroking along your spine, the other arm curled around your waist, keeping you in place. You placed slow kisses along the skin in front of you, pressing closer as the chill of the air began to penetrate the cloud of pleasure you’d found yourself in.

“I’ve hurt you,” he said.

His thumb brushed over the imprint of his teeth on your shoulder. You looked down at it.

“It was kinda hot,” you said, “you’ve marked me. Everyone will know I’m yours.”

“And are you?” He looked up into your face, emotionally open, almost vulnerable, “mine, that is.”

“I’m completely yours,” you said, sitting up properly again.

Cupping both of his cheeks, you forced him to continue to look at you. His lips ticked up into a small smile, and you found yourself smiling back at him.

“Of course I’m yours, ghost boy,” you said.

“And I’m yours,” he said, softening before your eyes.

The way you kissed him this time was sweeter, softer, full of so much more emotion.

“So, did you enjoy your reward, ghost boy?” you asked when you drew away.

“I don’t know,” he said, “you might have to try again.”

You shoved his shoulder but you were laughing and his eyes were twinkling.

“Asshole,” you laughed.

You wondered if maybe he liked the name calling because the way he looked at you was with reverence. Like you were something wonderful he’d caught in the circle of his arms. It made you soften, knowing how safe you were with him, how he wasn’t going to hurt you like your asshole ex had.

“You know I always enjoy it with you,” he said, catching your chin.

When he kissed you, you melted against him, knowing this time was so different because he was so different. He was so much better.

#lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield imagine #lars pinfield #anon #request

49 notes · View notes

hazshit-hotel-hater · 1 day

Text

Angel Dust Redesign! (7/7)

FINALLY I AM DONE WITH THE MAIN 7 FREAKS.

Depending how I feel I might throw in some bonuses but these guys are your only guarantees! Going to be posting the full lineup separately because I don’t want to clutter this post!!

God okay where to start. I was talking about them in Husk’s post so let’s go with that. Angel’s clothing restrictions are his necklace and shoes. I might go on a bit of a tangent with this so forgive me 💔

For the necklace let me get this out of the way: yes it is a BDSM thing! I’m terrified people are going to take this as me being a weirdo but please as an adult content creator give me some space to explain before anyone jumps on me and hits me with a metal pipe. The intentions behind symbolism matter HEAVILY. I am against Vivzie’s portrayal of Angel’s abuse and the chain/collar imagery because it is blatantly either her being incredibly uncreative or her inserting her kinks into her shows. I think it is completely fine to use suggestive items in this way as long as the intentions are clear and not just there for no reason.

I would’ve probably done something else like a corset as a restriction, but I’d like to stop being so shy about Angel’s actual job. He is a pornstar and removing that outward aspect of him is taking a big chunk of his character away. I need more people to acknowledge that Angel enjoys sex and actively wanted to explore this side of himself. With the slip chain however, I would also like to portray how things Angel enjoys in his job have been used against him and made him come to resent what he does when he is forced into it. I think thats a pretty understandable thing to show.

This is harder to explain but the gist of it is just don’t be afraid to acknowledge Angel’s job. It’s okay to use sexual things as metaphors. Have you heard any christian song ever/hj

Alright with that out of the way, with the shoes. Angel’s feet are a large insecurity and discomfort of his which already makes his shoes some sort of restriction on their own, however if controlled, they can be made to stumble forward, fall over, etc. I wanted to show how Angel has freedom to go mostly wherever he pleases, though once again, that free will can be taken away very quickly.

I hated his suit so all suiting is gone entirely. He’s supposed to look attractive or eye catching at the very least. I’ve also added back the outer fangs he had in my first redesign!

I am much happier with the new one in comparison to this old guy. I know it’s only a few months old but you can really see how differently I draw him and the details I pay attention to more like the shape of his hair. Aside from the old one! I wanted Angel himself to still keep the reddish pink to show wrath and destain being masked as lust, except now his clothing is actually the pinkish-purple lust colour and it covers more eye grabbing parts of his body like the chest, hands, hips, and so on.

I don’t think I’ve ever outwardly mentioned Angel having polycoria but he does and it’s probably my favourite feature to draw aside from his hair. About the hair and fur: Angel used to have spots and basic stripes before his contract with Valentino, where afterwards they began to curl into their cordiform shapes. Most physical overlord changes with hair and skin tend to not go away, so depending on who you make a contract with it’s either a fun perk or a sort of scar.

Once again, not sure if I will be continuing with anymore in this specific lineup, but if I do end up posting more of these I really hope you like those too! 💣

26 notes · View notes

metalomagnetic · 2 days

Note

First of all, yay for Whiskers. We could have done without gut-wrenching return to the cabin part though (that’s a lie, hurt me more I like it).

I have a thought/note/question/ramble… on the Fidelius. I’m obviously not here to HC-police but it was made quite clear through the text and responses to comments that you subscribe to the idea that the Secret can be obtained through torture when it’s (Pottermore) canon that it can only be willingly given away (big asterisk on the “willingly” though, because it seems like threats don’t count as coercion).

I’ve always liked the latter option as it made the most sense with respect to the Keeper switch in the books yet I can obviously see why the Cruciatus being on the table ups the drama potential in It Runs. I guess what I’m trying to say is how do you imagine the different route the story would have to take if the Secret couldn’t be tortured out of someone? I feel like it could go either so much worse or better.

It's been some time since I read the books, but I don't think in the books is mentioned anywhere that it can't be obtained through coercion.

However, I found on wiki that: "methods of magical coercion such as Veritaserum, Legilimency, the Cruciatus Curse, or the Imperius Curse had no effect on the charm." This is not in the books, thought!

However, if someone is tortured through non magical means, or threatened, I think they might become willing to share the secret.

It's not as if you can take it out by using the Cruciatus until the victim becomes mad with pain, mind broken, and they say it like that, unaware of what they are doing.

No, someone that is tortured but remains sane and aware, can willingly choose to divulge it.

That is my interpretation of it. If there is a choice, then it is a willing action. Sure, the other choice would be to die if you don't tell Voldemort what he wants, but it is still a choice you willingly make, at the end of the day. You choose your life and comfort over the Secret.

Otherwise I don't know why Sirius would have bothered to hide in the books, why it was assumed Voldemort would go after him because he was the Secret Keeper. Why would Voldemort want to get his hands on Sirius, the Secret Keeper, if the Keeper can't be tortured, coerced or made in any way to divulge it? But everyone was under the assumption Voldemort would go after Sirius, and thus they switched, because Sirius was too obvious of a choice.

So it is possible for Voldemort to get the Secret out of someone, by some means, surely. Otherwise Sirius would have been the Secret Keeper and that's that, if there was no danger of the Secret being forced out of him. The point was that he becomes a target by pretending he is the Keeper, so that Peter won't ever be suspected, won't ever have Voldemort after him. Thus, the need to protect Peter implies there is a way to get the secret out of the Keeper.

Does that make sense?

#fidelius charm #it runs in the blood

24 notes · View notes

slicknb · 11 months

Text

I reblog a lot of stuff with gendered terminology in it. But let it be known, if it references (her) pussy or something like that, I’m also looking at all of you with one/something similar. Whether it’s boy/manpussy, boy/mancunt, front hole, bonus hole, just a hole — insert how you refer to yourself and your body!

If it’s about (his) dick, I’m also looking at all of you whether it’s girlcock, girldick, tcock, tdick, a strap-on — insert how you refer to you and your body too!

Caveat: if it’s a trans post then it’s being read and taken as such.

#I don’t know if I’ve ever made that clear #I hope I phrased that right so it doesn’t come off wrong lol #gender neutral nsft #gender inclusive #ftnb t4t #trans nblw #trans nblnb #trans nblm #bi nblnb #bi nblm #bi nblw #trans ns/fw #trans ns/ft

18 notes · View notes

theguardianace · 17 days

Text

it should be illegal to feel like this on your birthday

#i really loved my morning i got such nice gifts from my mom #and it was nice to just have a morning off #but that was honestly the worst class i’ve ever been in #i was trying to talk to my professor but my voice sounded so off #i’m so stressed bc i’m so behind i don’t know what to do it’s not clear at ALL #i think he’s assuming everyone’s done something like this but it’s not true!! i’m a sophomore and everyone else is a junior or senior #and i was trying to hard not to break down and i think i made it #but now i’m in my room and i need everyone to shut up #i want to take a shower to calm down but i can’t bc my roomate is here and she knows i already took one today #and i don’t like that i’m 20 i’m scared of growing up #and im homesick im always homesick in the back of my heart #i just want a hug honestly

21 notes · View notes

theres-whump-in-that-nebula · 8 days

Text

I’ve destroyed it all. The circumstances are not my fault; nevertheless, I am the straw that broke the camel’s back. I am the thousandth paper cut needed to end a life. I am innocent on my own; but with everything behind me I will be the one to bring destruction. I don’t want to be the cause. I never wanted this. I saw it coming miles away and I did it anyway; the worst part is that I see exactly where it’s going. Please let my intuition be wrong for once. This doesn’t feel real.

#I’m going to be fine. I’m about the only person who’s going to be fine.#We were born of the fire and now we shall die in the fire #exjw #pomo #Yes; POMO. But at what cost?#If it weren’t for the cult; we wouldn’t be together #If it weren’t for the cult; we’d still be together #I know I bitch and snark a lot but I don’t hate them. I love them. I think they’re good people and I like them. Genuinely.#I don’t blame them for everything. I can’t blame them for everything just like I can’t blame myself for everything #None of us are breaking us apart; a concept is. A concept that has more power than the bond between parent and child #ex cult #vent tw #I hate this I want it to end.#I want for none of us to be hurting or afraid anymore. I want us to be free to be with one another and be ourselves #I want us to love each other regardless of who we love #I’ve made it clear that I will not cut them off. If there is ever any restriction of communication between us; it will not be on my end #It’s such a silly thing too. I haven’t killed anyone. I haven’t done anything unspeakable. I’m an upstanding member of society #I just want to exist as I am. That is all.#What makes a cult isn’t just not being allowed to make your own decisions #it is also when the rules of the religion punish you unnecessarily for making normal decisions that should not cause turmoil

5 notes · View notes

carouselcometh · 1 month

Text

You’re telling me you don’t like Zep Hindle? No hellos for Zep Hindle?

#I do really like Zep I don’t know if I’ve ever made that as clear as I could have

6 notes · View notes

aboutmetamorphosis · 9 months

Note

the tattoo says olina which is a little town in modena!

okay? i genuinely couldn’t care less either way love i’m literally just chilling

#someone sent me a comparison pic of olivia/olina in cursive writing and i think you could make a case for both if you so feel inclined #me? i’m not sweatin’ it!#and if it says olivia (it def looks like it does) then i think it’s fucking hilarious #for me it’s same genre of humour as harry wearing the daddy hat #the girls who get it get it #anyways i’m just here for a good time so 🤷#ask #update: i’ve just been made aware that his california tattoo apparently says colazione #so yeah i think the photos (or at least the ones i've seen so far)#aren't clear enough and the tatt could easily say smthn else rather than olivia #i still think it’s olivia #to me it’s plenty clear enough but #maybe this is a bit of ‘you see what you’re looking for’ situation yk what i mean #cos now that i look at the other one i don’t know how we ever saw california there

6 notes · View notes

munamania · 11 months

Text

i mean it’s just kinda crazy cause. and forgive me if i sound somewhat spoiled here but. this trip im doing to take more credits and get experience and make connections etc is obviously expensive and i talked abt it with my parents. a lot before trying to do it. and somehow my dad didn’t understand that yk we would have to pay for it. ??? and is putting me in this spot of ‘figuring out what we’re gonna do about it’ and it’s like dude. i mean i’m going i paid for my fucking flights you know i’m. regardless i’ll be there. and i make $10/hr i have not been able to work consistently and when you don’t have thousands and thousands of dollars just sitting there accumulating more interest it doesn’t fucking last. like what exactly do you want me to say? i’ll drain all my accounts and give what little i have to you? tldr my main point here is the only way this man truly shows any kind of affection is through money and since he fucked me up im glad to take advantage of that lol like why wouldn’t i. so to have it thrown back in my face is just um an awful feeling. like im not even worth this to you. this is just too much. it truly does feel like someone put a number on love and im just not up there

#it’s not like we ever took trips or vacations or had super nice things or even. you know. like fucking furniture #and to be clear even when he does help me out with stuff it’s held over my head so it’s truly not even a good way of showing. love.#if you want to say that. like of course i’m grateful that i haven’t had to struggle to make ends meet in the way many people do because i #have his money and i’m not trying to pretend i don’t but like. i’ve also had fucking anxiety attacks thinking about spending money and #basically how much i would owe him for my whole life. like how do i buy myself out of obligation here.#and i never could rn i don’t have Money money #but he truly pulls the same shit he does on my mom like ‘well where does it all go???’#dad. i don’t have piles of money sitting around. oh i made 2000 at my summer job? wowzers incredible that goes so fucking fast #when i’ve had to pay to break my lease and something else for school and bills and groceries #and yeah ok let’s not pretend i don’t sometimes go out with people. and everything’s so expensive now. but even so i have a heart attack #any time i spend more than like 20 dollars so. i usually don’t.#it’s just sooo… 😵‍💫 like. damn yeah i do wish i had parents that just Took Care of things and i didn’t have to worry. but it’s like. i do ta #money from him and then i’m just expected to grovel forever and ever #which is why i do need to be more financially independent from him i literally can’t wait for that day i need to make actual money at some #point but i am just not someone who can work full time and go to school and the only way i qualify for my scholarships is if i go full time #and graduate on time so. here we are 👍#abby talks #aaaaand post. lmfao

5 notes · View notes

ishades · 2 years

Text

#hmmm ignore me but I think I might as well talk about it here #less people likely to see it this way!#I always joke about how I want to get divorced but honestly?#not a joke. I don’t think marriage is for me #i don’t think anyone can ever sincerely love me I’ve loved a lot of different people over the years but never anyone who loved me back #like even in actual relationships it wasn’t love or even ‘like’#i think it’s a self destruction thing partially? maybe I don’t have the words to describe it because otherwise I’d be laid TOO bare #i want to relearn liking myself after a harsh breakup and reconstruct myself like I’m made of clay into something #unrecognizable and new but still touched by the hands that shaped me… but I get to be me #i want someone to look at me and know I’ve never been more beautiful than before things ended #and even if they want me again perhaps for the first time in ages… that they’ll know I slipped away and they’ll never have me again #i think this desire could even be born out of watching the women in my life irl drive themselves into the ground #and develop the worst self esteem issues and be suicidal while trapped in marriages where the spark isn’t there #maybe I want to divorce someone because they never will #maybe I would rather entertain thoughts of divorce in my future then think about the now #i feel very unwanted in every aspect of life but especially in the romance department #like… unfulfilled I guess? i think I take clear cut rejection better than anything else #and existing in limbo sort of has me trying to mentally run away #it DOESNT help that I feel like the other shoe is going to drop any minute #i feel like something big is coming bigger than god and maybe it’ll destroy me #so I’d rather think about having a massive romantic falling out with a stranger #than deal with anything irl that’s going on… especially when everything’s just so… immutable #i understand and empathize with anyone who is a child of divorce so I try to keep jokes to a minimum #but I wonder if divorce just means different things to different people?#anyways I want to become a divorced ILF without any kids tangled in the divorce #digital digital i wanna get digital

2 notes · View notes

augustinewrites · 9 months

Text

“babe. baaaabe. babe!”

“what, satoru?” you ask sharply, looking up from your laptop to where your boyfriend has spread himself across your couch, his legs in shoko’s lap.

he lifts his shades to look at you. “was i your first crush?”

“yes,” you answer quickly.

you immediately return to the report you’re writing, missing the face shoko makes before she says, “that’s not true.”

“ieiri,” you whisper harshly, but it’s too late. your boyfriend’s already jumped off the couch to lean his palms against your desk.

“what? i wasn’t your first?!”

“you were,” you insist, glaring at your friend. “shoko is clearly misremembering things.”

“am i though?”

“you know what, it’s fine,” gojo sighs, slipping his shades back on and rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up so he can flex. “obviously i’m way cooler than whatever lame schmuck high school you was crushing on.”

behind him, shoko’s scoff is the final nail in your coffin. “nanami is way cooler than you ever were.”

you slap your forehead, bracing yourself for gojo’s inevitable overreaction.

but he doesn’t get the chance, interrupted by a light knock against your doorframe from, you guessed it, nanami kento.

“yaga said you wanted to see me?”

cue overreaction.

“you had a crush on— on him?”

nanami swats gojo’s finger away from his cheek.

“oh my god,” your boyfriend breathes, currently experiencing a quarterlife crisis. “you liked this emo nemo?”

nanami ignores him, sending you a questioning look. “he doesn’t know?”

“what is it now?” satoru asks, slumping back into the couch. “did you guys go on a date or something?”

your lack of answer is enough for him to let his head fall back rather dramatically.

“can you blame her?” shoko asks. “he was sexy back then. in an edgy, mysterious kind of way. meanwhile, you were like…if a string bean made love to a cauliflower.”

even gojo doesn’t have a witty retort prepared for that.

you decide to clear this up once and for all. “it wasn’t just about looks. you were busy after— after riko. you didn’t have time for a relationship or…for me. you wanted to get stronger and i didn’t want to get in your way.”

“you wouldn’t have been—”

“i would have.” you shrug. because you know him, and you know what he was like. “and that’s okay because we were still kids, satoru. and it was only one date! no need to get so torn up about it!”

_____

“what is this?” you ask later that night, when you find satoru hauling a huge box into your apartment.

“it’s a bowflex!” gojo explains proudly, patting the unopened box. “shoko said that i was built like a string bean, so i’m gonna buff up like nanami! and when megumi moves out next year, i’m gonna turn his room into a gym.”

you lean in the doorway, amused. nanami also has a home gym. “is that why you’re also wearing a suit and tie instead of your usual uniform?”

he does a show spin, letting you take it all in. you don’t even want to know how much it must have cost. “do you like it?”

“you do look very handsome.”

“i know,” he winks, cocky as ever. “now watch this.”

he brushes a few strands of hair over his eyes, lowering his voice a few octaves as he says, “taxes. office work. satoru, i respect you so much!”

you walk up to him, brushing the hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. “nanami would never say that last thing, but i do like the effort.”

he loops his arms around your waist, returning the kiss and murmuring against your skin, “did it turn you on though? maybe i should get an office job—”

“satoru,” you whine, resting your forehead against his chest. “it was just a short-lived crush. and it was forever ago! i’m pretty sure you’ve had crushes that weren’t me.”

“nope,” he hums, resting his chin atop your head. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve ever needed…is you.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

11K notes · View notes

sistertotheknowitall · 2 months

Text

Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.

Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.

——

By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.

Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.

He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.

Mia had been insufferable ever since.

It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)

Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.

There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.

Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.

Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?

It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.

Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.

“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”

“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”

Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”

“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.

Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”

“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”

Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”

“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”

“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”

“Danny!” Mia called.

Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”

(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)

After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”

Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.

3K notes · View notes