18+ MDNI - f!reader (nasty freak boy who cums too early...i love him)
virgin!satoru who thinks he’s going to die. genuinely, he thinks his heart is about to explode out of his chest and his last memory will be the way you stare down at him with those lust-blown eyes and that awe-struck smile. why else would he be shaking like this, covered in a layer of sweat and lightheaded to the point his vision is swirling?
“are you ready, satoru?” is the only thing he can make out above the ringing in his ears - how can he tell you he only has a few moments to live when your legs are spread like this and he’s so hard it fucking hurts?
virgin!satoru who is the farthest fucking thing from ‘ready’ but he’d rather die than disappoint you, so he’s at least got to try.
with an unsteady hand he swipes the tip of his cock up and down your slit, watching the way the light sparkles with how wet you are, for him.
“you can put it in, baby,” and he fucking groans, he can barely look at you when you talk to him like that, all syrupy sweet and thick and dripping.
virgin!satoru who finally, finally, pushes himself past your entrance. his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his length, the way he’s so hot he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air in because it all smells like you.
virgin!satoru who cums before he even bottoms out. he’s trembling and whining and it only gets worse when your hands find his shoulders and pull him into you.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck-”
“it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s so fucking warm, and he’s grateful he can’t see the smile on your face because he thinks it might actually make his heart stop.
virgin!satoru who straightens his back, slowly pulls his cock out of you and watches in awe as his cum leaks down your thighs, who can’t stop himself from smearing it through your folds with his thumb, who doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches as he does.
virgin!satoru who’s already hard again, who no longer cares if he’s dying because this must be heaven, who stares back at you with wild, unfocused eyes as he says, “i think…i think i’m ready now.”
The bathroom was warm, steam clinging to the mirror and softening the edges of the small space. Price adjusted the shower-head, the gentle hiss of water filling the quiet. He tested the temperature with his fingers, warm but not scalding, before glancing down at Nik.
Nik sat on the floor, his back pressed against the cool porcelain of the tub. His injured arm was cradled in a sling, the tight bandages beneath his shirt peeking out at the edges. Price had straddled his thighs, his knees bracketing Nik’s hips as he leaned forward to work.
Nik shifted slightly, his good hand resting loosely on Price’s knee, his thumb absently brushing the soft fabric of Price’s sweatpants. His hair had become quite long now, reaching just above his shoulders, framing his face in loose , dark waves that caught faintly in the warm light overhead. Price could tell it was a tangled mess, he was determined to fix it.
“This alright?” Price asked as he folded a towel with deliberate care and tucked it behind Nik’s neck. The softness of the fabric was a small contrast to the firm edge of the tub.
Nik blinked up at him, his good hand flexing slightly in his lap, then looked away, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “Yes,” he muttered.
Price frowned, leaning in a little closer, his hands braced lightly on Nik’s chest for balance. “What’s that look for?”
“Nothing,” Nik said quickly, waving vaguely with his free hand. “Just… your fussing.”
Price snorted softly, the sound blending with the rhythmic drip of water into the tub, but he didn’t press. Instead, he adjusted his posture, settling into a more comfortable crouch. The warmth of his legs against Nik’s made the latter shift slightly, though his good hand didn’t leave Price’s knee.
“Right, let’s get this sorted,” Price said, reaching for the shower-head. “You’ve been wandering around all week with your hair looking like a bird’s nest, haven’t you? Can’t have that now that I’m back, can we?”
Nik chuckled, his voice low and rough, though his face was still turned slightly to the side. “Are you saying I look unkempt?”
“I’m saying you’ve been looking like you’ve been dragged backwards through a hedge, love,” Price replied, grinning as he tilted the shower-head. The water streamed in soft rivulets, soaking Nik’s hair. Price used his free hand to shield Nik’s face, his thumb brushing lightly along Nik’s temple.
Nik sighed as the warmth spread through his scalp, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. The water ran down the back of his neck, pooling slightly where Price had placed the towel earlier. “You are enjoying this.”
“Of course I am,” Price said, grabbing the bottle of shampoo. He flicked it open with a thumb, the faint citrusy scent filling the air as he squeezed some into his palm. “Get to run my hands through your hair, keep you quiet for a bit. What’s not to like?”
Nik huffed out a laugh but didn’t argue, his good hand pressing a little firmer against Price’s knee, his thumb moving in slow, absent circles. “It feels wrong, you doing this for me after the week you have had.”
“Not this again,” Price muttered, lathering the shampoo between his hands. The soapy foam felt slick between his fingers as he began working it through Nik’s soaked hair. His palms brushed the edges of Nik’s forehead, and his fingers combed through the longer strands with steady, deliberate care. “I told you, I want to do this. You’ve been walking around all week without washing it because of that bloody shoulder. Can’t say I’d let you try it one-handed, either, though I’m sure you’ve tried.”
Nik chuckled, his head tipping forward slightly as Price’s fingers moved through his hair. The gentle pressure on his scalp drew a quiet, involuntary hum from him before he could stop it.
“See? That’s the sound of a man being thoroughly pampered,” Price teased, his voice soft but smug.
Nik let out a low sigh, his eyes drifting shut as he leaned back slightly, his hand brushing up towards Price’s thigh, squeezing absent-mindedly at the muscles there. “No need to be so smug, Mishka.”
Price chuckled, his fingers continuing their slow, steady work. “Too late for that.”
Nik didn’t reply, though the corners of his mouth twitched in the faintest of smiles. His shoulders softened further under Price’s touch as the soothing rhythm of his hands worked away the last of the shampoo.
The warm water cascaded over Nik’s hair again as Price rinsed it clean, taking care to keep any stray suds from running into Nik’s face. By the time he reached for the conditioner, the faint tang of citrus had mellowed into a subtler freshness.
“How’s that shoulder feeling today?” Price asked, his voice quieter now.
Nik shifted slightly beneath him, the sling pressing against Price’s chest with the movement. “Better than yesterday.”
“Good,” Price murmured, smoothing the conditioner through the damp strands. His hands moved slower now, the pads of his fingers brushing lightly over the ends of Nik’s hair. “You’ll be back to giving me hell in no time.”
Nik cracked an eye open, his gaze warm despite his teasing tone. “Am I not giving you hell now?”
“You calling this hell?” Price smirked. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Nik grumbled something under his breath, low and indistinct, but the sound of it made Price grin anyway.
The conditioner rinsed away easily, leaving Nik’s hair softer than it had been in weeks. Price grabbed the towel he’d left nearby, unfolding it and gently patting the damp strands dry. Nik shifted slightly beneath him, pressing his good hand against Price’s thigh for balance as he raised his head back up slowly.
“Better?” Price asked, his voice quieter now.
Nik opened his eyes fully, his gaze unguarded as he looked at Price. “Better,” he said, the simple word carrying a weight that made Price pause.
“Good,” Price murmured, setting the towel aside. He cupped Nik’s face with one hand, his thumb brushing along his cheekbone as he leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re stuck with me, love, like a tick.”
Nik sighed, but his lips quirked upwards in a faint smile. “How romantic.”
“Swept you off your feet, have I?” Price replied, his grin widening.
Nik huffed softly, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, and let his head tip forward until it rested briefly against Price’s chest, uncaring that it would leave a wet spot on Price’s shirt. He didn’t speak, but the way his good hand slid up to wrap around Price’s waist said enough.
The bathroom was quiet for a moment, save for the soft drip of water from the shower-head and the occasional rustle of fabric as Price’s thumb traced slow, absent circles at the nape of Nik’s neck. The tension there had eased under his touch, and the steady rhythm seemed to lull Nik into a state of quiet contentment.
He pressed a soft kiss against Nik’s dark hair, his hand brushing back a strand that had fallen into Nik’s face. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Let’s get you on your feet.”
Nik didn’t move immediately, his head remaining against Price’s chest for just a second longer before he sighed and leaned back. Price shifted carefully, adjusting his knees so he didn’t jostle Nik’s injured arm. He reached down, his hands firm but gentle as he clasped Nik’s good hand and slid his other arm around his back for support.
“Take your time,” Price said quietly, his voice soothing as he braced Nik. He rose slowly, steadying Nik as he did, their movements unhurried. Nik’s grip tightened briefly on Price’s forearm, his balance a little off, but Price held him steady, his free hand brushing over Nik’s lower back in reassurance.
“You alright?” Price asked, his blue eyes scanning Nik’s face, searching for any sign of discomfort.
Nik nodded, though his weight shifted subtly into Price’s hold. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice a little rough.
“Good,” Price said, guiding him toward the door with an arm looped lightly around his waist now. He paused just long enough to grab an extra dry towel, draping it gently around Nik’s shoulders and patting at the damp strands of his hair once more.
“You spoil me,” Nik said, his voice light but his gaze holding a quiet sincerity.
“And you deserve every bit of it,” Price replied, his tone matching Nik’s as he gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, let’s get you sorted before your hair dries funny.”
Nik laughed, low and rich, the sound wrapping around Price like a warm blanket. For a moment, Price forgot about the long week he’d had, the mission that had worn him thin, and the worry of leaving Nik to fend for himself. All that mattered was the man standing before him, safe and cared for.
Relationships: Angela Giarratana/Amanda Lehan-Canto
Summary: “I wanna get drunk and smash his car with a golf club.” Amanda chuckled, a lump in her throat, “Then eat cake. Or shove my head in a wall or something.”
“Don’t do that.” Angela scolded gently, “It’ll fuck up your pretty face.”
Amanda blinked, “I can’t tell if you’re joking or flirting with me.”
“Depends,” the brunette shrugged, “are you into it?”
or, an AU in which Amanda desperately needs someone to be her pretend-lover, and Angela forgets the part about pretending.
thank you @babychosen for keeping me sane, and @shesmore-shoebill for keeping me writing <3
little synopsis/summary for an ao3 henry danger fic i wanna write lol
It's not like Henry wanted to distance himself from Ray. It was just bound to happen, with them living on opposite sides of the world and all that. He wasn't doing it on purpose, it's was just– time. Yeah, time. Henry's still making an effort to see him, with all those long trips to Swellview. Sure, he lets those missed calls and voicemails pile up, and it takes him a whole lotta strength to gather up energy to respond to texts, but it's still something.
4 months passed since that last visit. Henry's looking at his phone, the bright screen illuminating his tired face; it seemed like the dark circles under his eyes popped out much more now. His thumb hovered over the call icon on the screen, switching between looking at it and the name on the top:
AAA sorry its been taking me a while to go through these requests, I've been doing uni assignments and a few personal projects. (Red string au + another angst idea)
Sadly May and June will be very busy months for me as all my assignments are due at once (ik great for students 💔)
So all who have requested prompts might not see it answered for a while or even at all till I finish everything.
This does not mean I have forgotten! I just have to prioritise things and requests are at the bottom of my to do list :(
With that in mind, I was unable to finish/ polish this request, but the sketch looks pretty good so I'm gonna post it as it is.
Prompt from this post (requests are on hold for now)
Prompt - 💪Bridal carry
AND THE LOVELY Q WAS ALSO KIND ENOUGH TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR THIS ART SO I'LL LINK THAT HERE TOO!!
FIC LINK - HERE
Bonus scribble
(Also if anyone wants to redraw/ finish this, feel free! I have no issues as it's unfinished. Just be sure to tag me💚)
Can you do a Gabe imagine pls? Can it be a childhood friend's trope pls?
For as long as you could remember, Gabe Perreault had been a constant in your life. You had met in first grade, the curly haired boy coming up to you, with your tiny pigtails, and insisting he sat next to you. What came next was a friendship that had only grown stronger as each year passed.
You went to every hockey game of Gabe’s that you possibly could, and tagging along on each other's family vacations.
You weren’t sure when things shifted, but ever since you had arrived at Boston College for freshman year, something had been different. A good, but also scary different.
Seeing girls flirt with him makes her sick now. A year ago, she would’ve given him a thumbs up and a smile as encouragement, but now she can’t stomach it.
——
It’s a Friday night, and instead of going out to a party, you’re sitting in Conte Forum, watching Gabe’s hockey game, just like every weekend they have a home game. You’re his so-called ‘Good Luck Charm’, deemed when the one game you didn’t go to ended in a loss for Boston College.
Ever since then, you were to be present at every Boston College hockey game, with Gabe’s jersey on, per order of him, Ryan, and Will.
You make your way over to the locker game to see Gabe, like every time. Media is done, and Gabe should be walking out the door any minute now.
“Y/N!” Ryan shouts, running over to you. You spot the familiar brown curls walking behind him, and your stomach flips. “Did you see my goal? It was so sick, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it was cool.” You respond halfheartedly, meeting Gabe’s eyes. Ryan shoots you a knowing look, but you swat him.
“Gabe-o!” You shout, throwing your arms around him. His arms go around your waist, steadying the both of you. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “You looked like a rockstar out there!”
“Thank’s Y/N/N. You brought us good luck, just like I said you would,” His arms are still around your waist, and the butterflies are multiplying rapidly. “The team and girlfriends are going to the bar tonight, you in?” He looks down at you, and you look up at him.
“Sounds fun. I should probably change out of this though, put on something nicer.” You point down at the jersey.
“Oh, you don’t wanna wear my jersey to the bar?” He mocks fake hurt, his million dollar smile spreading across his face.
“I don’t think this exactly screams ‘bar attire’, so I’m gonna have to say no.” You giggle.
“Fair enough. We can swing by your dorm and then head over.”
“Perfect.”
——
The bar is crowded, and Gabe has a tight grip on your hand, in order to not lose you. He’s deep in conversation with Ryan, while you are talking to Ryan’s girlfriend who’s leaning up against him.
You chose not to drink tonight, instead having a diet coke with lime. Someone needs to make sure that everybody finds a safe ride home tonight.
Gabe is not drinking either, figuring you’re gonna need help with rounding up everyone and getting them back.
“Have you told Gabe you liked him?” Ryan’s girlfriend speaks a little too loudly. She’s drunk, and you can’t blame her. Ryan’s eyes widen, and you squirm out of Gabe’s hold.
“Oh, um, look at the time. I should go.” You all but sprint out of the bar, ignoring Gabe’s shouts behind you.
“Y/N, Y/N, wait!” He shouts, but they fall to deaf ears.
“Gabe, go back to the bar. Your teammates need you,” You yell back, not losing your fast pace. But Gabe is faster, and he lifts you off the ground, despite your feet flailing around. “Put me down, now!”
“Sorry, can’t. Not until you stop yelling at me.”
“Please, spare me the embarrassment. You can never speak to me again, just don’t laugh at me.”
“Was she telling the truth? Do you like me?”
It’s a heat of the moment decision, but you decide it’s now or never. Surging forward, your lips meet his, and his hands fall to your waist, pulling you oh so close. It feels like magic; like a years worth of lingering feelings finally coming to a crash in the best way possible.
“Does that answer your question?”
“Yeah, it does.” He goes in for another, hands still on the small of her back to keep them both steady. It feels right, and nothing else could make either of you happier.
