#anyway pls ignore this is for the one anon that asked for it

[borealwrites]

Ciri, quietly pondering to herself: ‘ Do not let him know how awkward you are. ‘

Roche: Nice weather.

Ciri: Oh, thanks—. . . What?

You know what, I can totally see Ciri falling for this guy

I mean I know nothing about his personality or skills, but he has a motorcycle. I approve of this Witcher x final fantasy ship! Maybe. Idk. Like I said I literally know nothing about him and I refuse to do more than an image search. Anyway he looks like he’d be awkward too! I don’t write for either of those fandoms, so I’m not taking that as a prompt.

[kurooh]

I’MA MAKE U SCREAM ★ S. GOJO & S. GETO

⊹₊˚. a series of unrelenting, mysterious phone calls late at night leads to you being sandwiched between two hot ghostface slashers who’ve got you fucking for your life.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, ghostface! gojo & geto, threesome, knife play, landline phones, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), double penetration, anal/fingering, tongue piercings, pussy slapping, biting. 5.2K words whew (pls read anyway 🧎‍♀️)

xoxo, juno. happy halloween!! thank you to my dearest wolfy anon for beta reading <33 comment & rb if you enjoyed!!! 🎃

“hello?”

“why don’t you wanna talk with me?”

“who is this?” you roll your eyes, unimpressed by the cheery voice coming through the phone. “it’s like eleven at night, what do you want?”

“ya tell me your name, and i’ll tell ya mine,” that voice lilts into a teasing tone, words dripping with persuasive sweetness.

“nah, i’m heading to bed. nice talk.”

“aw, bedtime already? you’re not even gonna watch a movie before you sleep?” the question has your brows furrowing in aggravation, but you sigh, choosing to answer anyway.

“i didn’t have anything in mind,” the caller lets out a laugh, straight into your ear. “what, you’ve got a suggestion?”

“do you like scary movies?” and you can hear the smile in the caller’s voice; he’s amused, probably laughing with his friends over the prank call in the moments of muffled silence.

“i suppose so.”

“don’t you have a favorite? why not watch it?”

“well, i won’t be able to sleep,” you reply simply, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. “but the longer we talk, the more sleep i lose out on. so, have a good night!”

“wait!” the caller snaps, demanding as ever. the sudden outburst sends chills straight down your spine. “don’t hang up on me.”

“and why shouldn’t i?” the blatant defiance has the caller letting out a laugh that sounds rather menacing . . he clears his throat, seemingly returning to his more even tempered tone.

“we’re not done talking,” he says simply, sounding a little crackly through the phone. “so don’t hang up, you’ll—”

a rational person with an interest in talking would certainly call during the day, and only once or twice before quitting altogether to wait for a call back. an irrational person would have your house phones ringing off the hooks while you were in the shower, calling nonstop and then getting far too arrogant once you finally picked up. just as you slam the phone back down, it starts to ring again.

you decide to leave the room, figuring that the caller will tire himself out quickly, but he doesn’t. in the time that you left the phone to go to another room, there wasn’t a single beat of silence. furious, you race toward the phone, fingers sliding on the kitchen counter as you snatch it up.

“fuck you! listen to me, you’d better stop—”

“no, you listen to me,” the caller snarls, and the harshness of his voice has your heart kicking hard against your rib cage. something in your gut tells you that this isn’t just a talkative caller. “don’t fucking hang up on me again, got that?”

you recover some of your composure, goosebumps rising on your skin. the cool breeze blowing through a nearby window adds to the chilling feeling that’s washed over you in only a matter of seconds. “w-well, what do you want, then?”

“i wanna see your insides, dummy,” is the crazed response, and you can’t stop the way your face immediately twists in horror. a clicking sound is heard as the second phone in your house—the one upstairs—is picked up, and another person hops onto the call.

“now, now,” this new voice is smooth, immediately drawing your attention as you listen attentively through the phone. “that’s no way to talk, you’ll scare her silly.”

“what the fuck?” you ask aloud, although you hadn’t meant to. all you can think about is the fact that two weirdos have you almost . . cornered on the phone.

the crazy voice scoffs, ignoring your mumbling. “well, you heard her! trying to hang up and shit,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval before sighing. “anyway, where were we?”

you don’t even say anything, and the other voice exhales into the phone. “see, look at what you’ve gone and done now. our girl’s too scared to talk to us, isn’t she?”

“look, i-i’m just gonna go to bed. goodnight.”

“you’re not going anywhere, honey,” the calmer one of the two says, but this time his voice is much clearer, almost as if he’s standing beside you. you take a step backward, trying to shake off the weird feelings and relentless goosebumps spreading across your skin.

you might as well be wearing nothing.

the satin slip dress you were planning to sleep in is as thin as plastic wrap; you’ve backed up into someone’s strong chest and thanks to the thinness of your pajamas, you can feel each sharp ridge of muscle. the pecs are strong, firm to the touch, and the abs are hard enough to cut diamonds. fear races through your body, so overwhelming that your lips part to let out a scream—but the noise is muffled by a large palm that pulls you back, flush against the muscles. separated only by a few layers of clothing, you can feel the warmth of their body and the casual rise of their chest as they breathe. if you weren’t being silenced, this would be comforting, in a way.

“promise you won’t scream, baby?” that calm voice has a dangerous edge; you nod immediately, frantically, desperately — as you feel a few tears gather in your eyes. this . . does not look, feel, or sound good in any way imaginable. who even are these people? and why you? a seemingly normal thursday evening had gone entirely downhill, and you didn’t even know why.

“good girl,” the person hums, dropping their hand from the lower half of your face and instead replacing it with the sharp edge of a knife. “let’s head upstairs, shall we?” as you ascend the steps, the blade drops lower, until it hovers over the tender skin of your throat. you can’t even turn around and see who the person is, for fear of getting cut over the simple action.

“could i at least turn around?”

“what for?” he asks, nudging the bedroom door open. you’re met with the frightening sight of a person in robes lounging on your bed, against your pillows. they have a spooky, ghostly mask, but you know who it is the second their mouth opens.

“you took the knives out that quickly?” the figure clicks his tongue, raising a hand to his face to pull off the ghostface mask. so this is what this is—some kind of ridiculous scream roleplay . . but the feel of the knife and the way it gleams is too real. “what happened to playing around, suguru?”

“it’s—it’s you! from the phone.” you say, straining against the man behind you, who pulls the knife a few inches away from your throat.

“careful now, doll. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“if you let me go, maybe i’d—” the man on the bed sits up then, pulling off his mask. you can’t see who he is just yet, the shadow from his hood obscuring his face. in a moment, he grabs hold of your face with a gloved hand, fingers squeezing cruelly at your cheeks.

it’s utterly nasty, the way feelings of attraction twist in your stomach. heat rises to your cheeks and you swallow, looking into diamond blue eyes that have your heart fluttering despicably. how is it possible to even be focused on your grim reaper’s looks, almost entirely forgetting their intentions as you lose yourself in those eyes?

“cat got your tongue? i said i wanna see your insides and you didn’t even look fazed.”

beneath the robe, you can see the tips of snowy hair, along with a face that’s far too handsome to belong to some kind of murderer. you shake your head in disbelief, sucking in a breath. “uh . . huh? sorry, i didn’t hear you.”

he drops your face with an annoyed scoff, stepping back to plop down on your bed before fully pulling off his hood. “y’know what—suguru, you deal with her.”

the man behind you pushes you forward, and you awkwardly take a seat beside the sighing killer. suguru tugs off his mask and inspects the knife closely, running a gloved finger over the edge before nodding. “might as well use the knives on you. maybe you’ll hear us then?”

“what’re you—why’re you doing all this?” you ask, the words sputtering out of your mouth nervously. “is there any way i can convince you not to cut me open?”

suguru looks at his literal partner in crime, pushing his black bangs away from his eyes as he speaks. “oh? trying to cheat death, sweet thing?”

you shrug, casually flopping onto your back. the satiny fabric of your dress flips up, and you unintentionally give both of them a great view of your panties. now that they’re deliberating how to move forward with you, the fear of the situation has dissipated greatly. “i just wanna go to bed and live to see another day tomorrow. name the price for my life and i’ll pay it.”

“those are fighting words,” suguru remarks, “don’t you agree, satoru?”

satoru nods, eyes glued to the thin fabric covering what’s between your legs. his mind runs wild as he imagines what he and suguru could impose on you. they’re practically in sync—suguru looks over just as satoru looks up, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

“hmph. sit up and listen.” satoru nudges your thigh, and you do as he says, looking bored. the whole night has done one too many 180s, giving you the most severe case of whiplash in your life. you’d initially been annoyed, terrified, then mildly attracted, and now . . almost indifferent.

“you’ve got my full attention.”

“we’ll let you live, on one condition,” satoru raises a finger before you can object, while suguru’s eyes covertly sweep over your body. “think you could handle us at the same time?”

a proposition for a threesome is something you certainly did not see coming! you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to maintain composure. suguru spices it up with a smirk, dragging that sharp knife of his along the edge of your jaw.

“you’ll have to fuck like your life depends on it.”

it does. tension weighs the air down, filling the room with a thickness even suguru’s knife couldn’t cut through. sweat beads along the skin of your spine and you exhale in defeat. being between these two would be hard—in all ways possible; but one mistake and they’d probably end up slitting your throat.

truthfully, you’re willing to risk it. most girls don’t usually cross paths with two men that are each extremely attractive and willing to share you between one another. you squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“y-yeah, okay. i’ll do it.”

“atta girl,” satoru praises, the corners of his eyes crinkling. a wicked smile finds its way onto his rosy lips, but you don’t back down, instead spreading your legs. you look between them, a silent invitation extended in one glance.

“lie back for us.”

“you were the one who told me to sit up—” perhaps the unnecessary snark isn’t a good idea, not with the way suguru eyes you warily.

satoru leans in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut you up. his body barrels into yours, pushing you into suguru, who catches you and cages you against his strong chest. the knife is abandoned as he strokes his fingertips along the tender skin of your neck, sighing into your ear while satoru occupies your lips.

“so pretty. heh, you’re pretty every night.”

suguru’s touch has you letting out a moan that satoru eagerly swallows, his gloved hands roaming your body. however, he seems to remember he’s got gloves on; without pulling away, he snatches them off.

“her tits, suguru—play with her tits.”

the mumbled words are audible only to suguru, who complies with a chuckle. unlike satoru, he makes no move to do away with his gloves. you moan, his hands squeezing at your tits while his fingertips stroke over your nipples until they grow hard.

“s-suguru,” you mewl, pulling away for a moment to suck a breath into your deprived lungs, “keep touching me there—just like that.”

satoru’s palm comes down hard against the side of your thigh, and he grips your face, forcing you to look at him. “focus on me, got that? wouldn’t want him to stop, would you?”

you shake your head, and in a split second, satoru’s got your upper lip between his teeth. he bites down playfully; the impact makes you gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. arousal pools in your panties, and you fidget in your spot between them, hoping that you’ll finally get the attention you’ve been craving sooner rather than later. suguru’s tongue drags against your neck while he takes in the scent of your body wash from earlier’s shower. there’s a cool sensation coming from the center of his tongue—you can feel a firm ball of some kind.

it’s a little shameful, getting this hot and heavy from a simple kiss. only, his tongue rolls against yours, and any semblance of embarrassment melts away. suguru’s fingers pinch both of your nipples at the same time, sending shockwaves right to your pussy.

“fuck,” you sob into satoru’s mouth, practically lightheaded from how overwhelming it already is, as well as the lack of air. “i-i need more.”

suguru hums, continuing to toy with your hardened nipples. “already slutting yourself out for us, sweetheart? that was fast, wasn’t it?”

satoru finally draws back, a glossy string of spit connecting your lips to his. he doesn’t move just yet, savoring the moment like a piece of special candy—you’ve practically got hearts in your eyes, all hot and bothered because of him. well, suguru is a factor, but he didn’t put in nearly as much work as satoru.

“lie back for us, babe.” this time you don’t fight them on it, scooting off suguru so you can comfortably prop yourself up on the mountain of pillows.

“tsk. this dress ought to go.” suguru brandishes his knife, and cuts through the satin material of the slip as easily as a stick of butter.

“hey!” you snap, the remains of your dress sliding off to the sides of the bed like rags. “what about you two!? you can’t just cut up my clothes like that when neither of you are naked!”

satoru rolls his eyes, tossing your legs apart. meanwhile, suguru clearly isn’t done with that knife; he trails it along the slopes of your naked body, the edge of the blade sharpened in a way that has you gasping. he applies a little bit of pressure, and your skin splits like it would after a paper cut.

“a-are you cutting my skin open?” you ask incredulously. you know the answer, but for whatever reason, you don’t pull away from him.

“maybe,” he replies breezily. “‘s nothing deep. you can handle it, can’t you, honey?”

“would you look at that?” satoru wolf whistles, and heat rises to your cheeks as he gathers your legs together, tugging them up. the knife pauses at your collarbone as suguru leans backwards to take a look, and his eyebrows raise immediately.

“she’s fucking soaked.”

“put the knife down ‘n come give it a taste.”

satoru’s request is breathless, but effective. the knife falls onto the blankets, and for a moment you use your head to consider what might happen in the future—someone could sit on that thing, lie down on it. satoru’s tongue rips the thought out of your head and replaces the words that were on the tip of your tongue with a sweet moan of bliss. your clit throbs at the prospect of more, and their balmy puffs of breath fanning over you only arouse you further.

their faces press together, side by side as they start to eat your pussy in a way that immediately has your back arching and hips bucking. satoru focuses all his attention on your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it while suguru slurps up all of your slick. there it is again, that cool sensation—he’s got a tongue piercing. the moonlight shines through the flowy curtains, illuminating the killers in an almost angelic glow . . maybe they’re actually pussy killers.

“‘s like fucking candy,” satoru moans, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. it bumps into suguru’s, and he only lets out a laugh that sends vibrations through your entire core. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, shit.”

the room fills with the lewd, nasty sounds of their slurping and licking as they devour your pussy together. you slip a finger between your teeth and bite down once one too many noises threaten to escape you, and suguru pulls back to land a smarting slap on your pussy.

“ah ah. do not try to go quiet on us.”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you stutter dumbly, mind and body reeling from the delicious sting of the slap.

“we want you screaming,” he emphasizes, spitting onto your cunt and watching as it flutters, the glob slipping down more rapidly due to the movement. “and you will be, by the end of all this. understand, doll?”

you nod hastily, and his eyes flick upwards to your face, the hardness in them a simple warning. “yeah, i understand.”

satoru’s drawing hearts and letters on your clit, each one making you shudder more than the last. each drag of his tongue makes him moan as he takes in more of your taste. beside him, suguru’s dips his tongue between your folds, the sensation nothing more than a tease. they plan to split you open on their cocks, and getting you desperate for it is only the first step of their plan.

“ngh, t-that’s so fucking good,” you cry, thighs quaking on either side of their heads. “please, i’m gonna cum.”

“give it to us,” satoru is the first to speak, his voice clear as it cuts through the lewd sounds in the air. he’s got one hand on the side of your thigh, holding you open just for them. “on our tongues, like a good girl.”

satoru’s ministrations on your clit grow more insistent; he’s working to pull your orgasm from you, while suguru continues to slurp at your messy pussy, his eyes falling shut. a familiar and overwhelming sensation coils in your tummy; it’s one that has your hands flying to both suguru and satoru’s heads, fingers finding purchase in their hair.

“i—i think ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, back arching off the bed while your hips jolt forward into their faces. after hearing the first word of your delirious warning, satoru replaced his tongue with his finger and moved beside suguru, the two of them slurping all your cunt has to offer. to them, it’s like drinking ambrosia.

you’re pulling hard at their hair, only encouraging them to groan against you. suguru speaks, eyes rolling back from just a little hair pulling. but it makes sense, with hair like that. of course his scalp is very sensitive.

“cover us in your cum, baby.”

obedient and right on time, your pussy gushes, hole fluttering around nothing while your clit throbs beneath satoru’s finger. the intense orgasm has left you twitching from the aftershocks, gasping for breath, and overly sensitive. of course, satoru and suguru take advantage of the aforementioned sensitivity with smirks on their faces.

“no, wait, i-i just came,” is all you can sob, your hands smacked away once you try to tug them off your aching cunt. “satoruuu, suguruuu.”

suguru only laughs, mimicking your tone with a roll of his eyes. “aw, babyyy. that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

with how sensitive you are, it’s not hard for them to drag a second orgasm out of you. this time, a few tears cascade down your cheeks as you fall over the edge with a pitched cry. satoru spanks your still twitching cunt and laughs at the way you gasp and recoil, legs still trembling.

“suguru, whatcha think? you wanna take her mouth ‘n i’ll fuck her pussy?”

“that’s far too considerate, satoru.” he shakes his head, talking about you as if you’re not in front of them. “c’mon,” suguru purrs, gesturing for you to get up as he slips off his robe and boxers. “lie on top of me.”

you can’t help but ogle, a little starstruck by his body and the thrill of everything. he sticks out his tongue playfully when he notices you staring, the metal ball in his tongue gleaming. his abs flex and his cock bobs as he lays down on your bed, beckoning you over with a gloved finger. satoru gulps, panting softly at the sight. following his best friend’s lead, he slips off his matching clothing and mounts the bed, which sinks under his weight with a creak. part of you wonders if the bed frame will give out by the end of this.

“hand me the lube,” suguru grunts, catching the small bottle in his larger hand. the liquid is cool, even through the leather of his gloves. he rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little for you. his fingertips prod at the tight ring of your asshole, and you let out a squeak of surprise.

“c’mon. relax for me, doll.”

you take a breath, body sweltering with arousal. this is certainly new for you, but you don’t complain—and anyway, the slight coolness of the lube feels good against your hot skin. satoru bites down on his lower lip as he watches his best friend prep you to take both of their cocks at the same time. something wicked has the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he pictures you screaming for them.

likely picturing the same thing, suguru tongues at your jaw, kissing the tender skin wetly before nipping hard. you can only cry out, his lips serving as a simple distraction while his fingers push inside and stretch you out.

you gasp, and he feels you squeeze down hard on his fingers, hips jerking away. “come now, don’t run from it,” suguru coos, twisting his body beneath you to angle you the right way again. he ignores your whining, and satoru silently strokes his cock to the sight. “i know, i know. just breathe for me, ‘kay?”

slowly, your body accommodates the new stretch without any more sting or discomfort. in fact, your hips begin to rock into his fingers, chasing them when he starts to pull out.

“i-i think she’s ready, suguru,” satoru finally speaks up, clearing his throat. his voice is a little choked, and you can clearly see the flush on his cheeks even in the dark. “for both of us.”

“you hear that, honey?” his warm breath fans over the shell of your ear, making you shudder against him. “let’s see who can make you scream the loudest—me or satoru.”

“as if,” the man in question huffs, pushing your thigh to the side and looking over your dripping pussy with an obvious hunger. “fuck, baby. i’m gonna ruin you.”

with that, satoru grasps his cock and guides it inside your needy cunt. suguru does the same, pushing his length into your ass. the three of you moan collectively, a harmony if ever there was one. you sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the stretch.

satoru grits his teeth and grips your hips for support, then pushes all the way inside you. he bottoms out easily, his cock sliding against suguru’s, separated only by a thin layer of tissue. so thin that they can feel the shape of one another’s cocks through you.

“fuckin’—shittt, oh my god,” satoru’s easily overwhelmed, heart pounding in his ears while sweat covers his entire body in a sticky sheen.

suguru bites your neck hard, but the pain registers as pleasure despite the fact that he tastes a few irony drops of blood on his tongue.

“do either of you plan to move?” you complain, lips parting in an ‘o’ shape around a whiny moan. “or are we just gonna sit here—”

“shut the fuck up,” suguru groans, clapping a dry and gloved hand over your tits before squeezing them. “we’ll move when we fucking feel like it.”

waves of almost euphoria wash over your entire body, leaving you breathless and panting. when you’d first met these two, you’d been sharp and aware of your surroundings, but now everything is hazy and your body burns as though you have a fever.

the bed creaks dangerously as satoru jumps into action, slowly rocking his hips into yours with a few choked, wanton moans. before long, he’s more confident, fucking into you with a tight grip on your skin and at an invigorated pace. you’re so hot and oh so tight—satoru fucking loves it—you feel perfect. he loves the way you squirm on top of his best friend, hips canting forward eagerly to meet his. the evidence of how good he’s making you feel is painted all over your face, apparent in the wobble of your lower lip and the tears in your eyes.

you hear a sigh from behind you. “can’t lose the bet,” suguru’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. it takes him a few seconds, but he finally starts moving, groaning in approval at the shake of your body and gasping, ragged breaths.

above you, sweat rolls down satoru’s face, the snowy tips of his hair sticking to his forehead while others fall in front of his eyes. “y-you like it like this, baby?” the question is rhetorical, but your whimpering tells him everything he needs to know. the corners of his lips curl into a smile that’s soon wiped away by overwhelming pleasure. “you’re taking us so fuckin’ well, sweetheart . . driving me insane, goddamn.”

“i second that,” the metal ball of suguru’s piercing clicks as he sweeps his tongue over his teeth, panting hard into your ear. “really, baby . . feel like the luckiest fuckin’ guy in the world right now, heh.”

as if you’re not the luckiest girl—being sandwiched between these two is a dream you didn’t even know you had. inside you, their cocks throb against one another, dragging in and out of your holes ruthlessly. the tempo only speeds up, becoming too much too quickly.

you nudge a weak, clammy hand against satoru’s waist, arching your back on top of suguru and nearly nailing him in the face with a reverse headbutt. before the latter can say anything, satoru snatches your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, then pins it down to the bed. he advances forward, his chest now against yours to keep you still.

“ah ah,” he tuts, his nipples hard as they press against yours, “move your damn hand, baby. this is what you wanted, remember?”

“i certainly do,” suguru titters, nipping at your earlobe. “don’t be like that. you can take it, can’t you?”

his words are convincing; he’s got you nodding in acceptance. he’s right, of course. this is what you wanted earlier—you’ve been taking both of their cocks so fucking well. just as you tell yourself you’ll make it through this, satoru’s fingers ghost along the soft skin of your stomach. despite the exhaustion that’s setting into his body, his hips don’t even stutter as he focuses on your swollen clit.

“oh . . oh my god,” the words are torn from your throat, which only grows more sore with all the noise you can’t seem to stop making. a familiar shakiness settles in your voice, and you’re fighting to keep the breath in your lungs, but it escapes you far too easily. “i’m-‘m gonna cum for you, ‘m—”

as you hurtle closer to all encompassing euphoria, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fade out and grow foggy. yet, you manage to hear their voices eagerly spurring you on, the two of them in the same boat as you.

“yeah, ‘s right. fuckin’ cum for us, baby.” satoru’s own orgasm creeps up on him, his head tipping back as your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. of course, suguru can feel the throbbing of his best friend’s cock and the quavering of your needy pussy. he releases your tits, seeing the bruising he’s left before squeezing his eyes shut in concentration.

“ya heard him, honey,” he utters after a long groan, his voice low and husky. “take all of our fucking cum.” you gasp out, nodding your head frantically as you teeter over the edge.

everything happens fast, and all at the same time. satoru cums inside you, his broad shoulders shaking as he rides it out while your pussy practically milks him for more. your cunt spasms, hips jerking upwards from the intensity of it. the movement pushes out suguru, his cum leaking out of your bruised ass and spilling in white puddles on his pelvis.

satoru looks down, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls his cock from you. this is quite the reward, seeing cum pour from both of your spent and twitching holes. your shuddering, sweltering body finally begins to cool after what feels like hours. suguru’s exhausted, but he kindly lifts you and lays you down on the bed beside him. satoru flops down beside you with a heaving sigh, only to lay on the knife from earlier.

“ow, fuck!” he jolts, sitting up and tugging the sharp blade from where it’s tangled in the sheets. he unceremoniously hurls it to the floor, laying back down with a vengeful huff.

you’re too tired to laugh, but a small smile plays on your lips. “do you still wanna kill me?”

“not right now,” suguru throws an arm over his face, gesturing in the direction of the floor. “the knife’s down there, anyway.”

you sit up, craning your neck to take a look. from what you can see, the floor is littered with their dark costumes and two masks, the knife completely out of sight. “i don’t see it.”

“hm, remember we talked about making you scream for us?” satoru speaks up, and in your dizzy haze, you don’t notice that glint in his eyes.

“uh, yeah, i think so? i thought you already did.”

“don’t you watch scary movies?” suguru scoffs, looking at you from beneath his forearm. “you should know what happens next.”

you laugh, rolling your eyes. “yeah, whatever. what happens next, you kill me? very funny. let me convince you again,” and you clear your throat. “no, please don’t kill me, mr. ghostface! i wanna be in the sequel!”

satoru simply shakes his head, and the knife plunges into your back. with a gasp, you sputter out a few garbled words, blood pouring down your bare back as you fall backwards onto the bed. you writhe on the mussed sheets, blood spilling from your lips and trickling down your chin in vermillion rivulets. beside you, the blood covered suguru and satoru let you struggle aimlessly until your body stills; then they slip their masks on again . .

“andddd cut!” the director jumps from his seat with proud claps, and the production assistants rush in from every direction to help clean up the mess.

“satoru, fuck! that knife was so sharp,” you sit up, sending a glare his way as you wipe the fake blood off your skin. despite being a fake knife, the shiny plastic point was rather jagged.

“excellent performances, the three of you! our halloween special is sure to be a hit!” the director is gushing as he praises the three of you.

“yeah, yeah,” suguru says, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “i’ve gotta take a shower. seriously, the corn syrup is so fucking sticky.”

[lovebugism]

Hii i saw you wanted some smutty requests so here we go:

being frisky at the fun fair with maybe grumpy!eddie? 🤭 or whoever you think would be better.

absolutely adore your writing btw 💕

hi! this is me making sure i still know how to write lol! pls ignore any mistakes bc this isn't proofread hehe but i hope you like it anon! — eddie munson may hate the state fair, but he loves the hell outta you (established relationship, allusions to smut 18+ | 1.1k)

Eddie’s too proud for the mirror maze.

Correction: Eddie’s too proud to admit that he has no idea how to get out of the mirror maze. 

You hide your giggling behind your palm when he hits another glass pane with a resounding thud. The cartoonish sound echoes through the otherwise empty attraction, along with the boy’s whispered “Fuck!” he tries hard to hide under his breath. 

His fingertips disappear under his curly bangs as he rubs at his forehead, trying and failing to find the spot that aches. He spins on the heel of his worn sneaker, and you find his pretty features bathed in rainbow neon lights and hardened into a boyish pout. 

He glares when he catches you smiling in the face of his plight, doe eyes narrowing in a look of offense — as though you were the one making him run into every mirror.

“It’s not funny,” Eddie grumbles, now kneading his temple. “I wanna go home.”

Your smile only widens. “We still have to get outta here first, Eds,” you tell him, soft and sympathetic, as you pat gently at his chest.

The notion makes his pout deepen. His huff bounces off the glass-metal cage you’re both stuck in as he spins back around again — lest the pretty way you’re looking at him now makes him melt. “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he mumbles with a shake of his wild head.

You watch him take a tentative step forward and grin at the back of him. “It’s your fault for being so in love with me,” you joke.

You expect him to turn around and glare again — or to laugh like it’s all a big joke and say, “In your dreams, babe.” But instead, he only sighs. And beneath the soft clanging of his hesitant footsteps against the silver floor, you hear him murmur under his breath, “Yeah, I know…”

His words trail off as he turns a sharp corner. A warning bubbles in your throat, then fades on the edge of your tongue a second later. Eddie rams into his reflection before he can blink. “Shit!” he curses, half-drowned out beneath your giggling and the echoing thud of his previous impact.

“Why don’t you put your arms out in front of you like a normal person?” you wonder through a bout of unbridled laughter.

Eddie grumbles something unintelligible under his breath. He rubs at his forehead with his ringed hand balled in a tight fist — not because he hit his head like an idiot (this time, anyway), but because the neon lights coupled with frustration are making his mind all swimmy. If there was anyone not built for a state fair, it was undoubtedly and unequivocally him.

Knowing this, you exhale a whimsical sigh and wrap arms both your arms around him. “Aw, Eds…” you say, still laughing slightly under your breath as you hug him by the waist. 

You rest your head on his shoulder and rub your warm cheek along the soft leather of his jacket. You peer up at him through your lashes and find his face all pinched together — but softened, still, by the emerald-ocean lights overhead.

“Want me to kiss it better?” you offer with a knowing lilt in your gentle voice.

Wordlessly, and never losing his pout, Eddie nods in the affirmative.

You rise to the tips of your toes and brush a kiss against his temple. The boy exhales a deep sigh through his nose before his tense shoulders relax slowly against you. ‘Cause underneath all the metalhead exterior, of course, is just a really big teddy bear.

“Want another?” you ask when you see the plea swimming in his wide brown eyes.

Eddie, however, shrugs unenthusiastically in response. “If it’ll make you feel better, I guess,” he mumbles, though his lips ache with the urge to kiss yours.

You seemingly know this as you wrap both arms around his neck like a snake trying to suffocate its prey before kissing the breath from his lungs. 

Eddie barely has time to take a breath before you’re licking into his mouth — wet tongue running warm along his chapped lips, body so close he can feel your languid heartbeat pounding against his chest. 

His head swims. His stomach swirls. His mouth waters for more. His head pulls back from you all the same.

“Whoa,” he mumbles, slightly slurred, as his lips click audibly from yours. His chcolate eyes are noticeably lidded, and his mouth is distinctly rosier. The sight of your work makes you grin, similarly kiss-struck. “What are you doing?” he wonders aloud, trying to laugh.

“Kissin’ you,” you answer like it’s obvious.

His heavy eyes flit past you to peer further down the maze. They dart wildly back and forth like he’s looking for extra bodies through the glass panes. Your smile widens. “Fair’s closing, babe. There’s no one else in here…”

You trail off and press your mouth to his neck. Not exactly kissing him there, just smoothing your lips up and down the thrumming tendon of his milky white skin. You hear him sigh like he’s annoyed by it all, but his ringed hands find purchase on your hips in surrender. 

“The shit you get me into…” Eddie huffs at the ceiling, eyes fluttering shut when your teeth scratch at his pulse.

“You love it,” you assure with a smile into his skin.

He squeezes at your hips, as though in warning. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Is it?” you hum sarcastically while, at the same time, nudging at his crotch with your thigh — where you can feel his cock beginning to harden through the thick fabric of his jeans. “‘Cause it kinda feels like you love it.”

“I hate you,” you hear him announce in a low grumble, just before his hand reaches for your neck. You can feel the warm silver of his rings along the back of it when he grabs you there,  pulling you away from his skin to press his mouth mercilessly to yours.

Your back hits the mirror with a dull thud, and you try not to think about how Eddie had run into it minutes prior — lest you break into another giggle fit in the heat of the honeyed moment. You just tangle your fingers in the boy’s silky, wild curls and let him make a mess of you. 

It’s all teeth and tongue. So messy, you can feel a mixture of your saliva on your chin. He kisses you with a brutal adoration, like he’s biting into the sweetest of apples.

Eddie grabs your leg with the hand not cradling the back of your neck. You can feel his rings leaving indents on the warm skin of your thigh from how ardently he’s holding you as he urges your knee up to his hips. You wrap your calf around the back of him obediently, skirt creeping scandalously up your lap. 

A whimper sounds in your throat when Eddie grinds his hips forward, trying hopelessly to soothe the aching of his stiffening cock. The coarse denim presses mercilessly to the wet spot forming in your panties. The unforgiving metal of his zipper nudges at your clit. The world spins around you.

When white lights reflect suddenly in rays along the many mirrors around you, you figure it must be the stars in your eyes. Until someone bangs along the far wall at the edge of the attraction, anyway — a dense and distant thud, thud, thud — as though they were beating the glass with their fist.

Your heart lurches into your throat. You and Eddie part from each other instinctively, squinting at the bright light as you search for the person behind it. Through many layers of distorted glass, you find a figure all in khaki — wearing a cowboy hat and a gold badge on his chest. 

Chief fucking Hopper.

“You got one minute to get the hell outta here!” Jim demands in a distant, but no less stern voice.

Eddie gapes, stunned silent, as the throbbing of pleasure between his legs starts to ebb. He’s even more horrified when you start to laugh aloud to yourself, like all of this is funny to you.

“We’re gonna need a lot longer than that, Hop,” you shout back, still giggling as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Eddie’s navigational skills are shit—”

Chest swirling with equal parts embarrassment, frustration, and longing (an albeit dangerous concoction), Eddie grumbles under his breath and reaches for your hand. “Let’s just fucking go,” he mumbles like a rumbling storm cloud as he leads you down the glass maze with a soft but unyielding touch.

“Wait— Watch out,” you caution when you catch him stomping in the wrong direction. 

Your words are punctuated by a metallic thud and Eddie’s pained shout. “Fuck!”

[riaki]

part 3 for the hs bully gojo fic except he suffers just a Little bit more in it. reader’s relationship w freckle boy gets a little more serious and gojo feels like he has a blackhole in his chest. one day he does confess bc he can’t physically take the heartache anymore and reader gets mad n calls him selfish (insert several more weeks of Suffering for gojo) and then idk what else from there but give a happy ending for him pls c: it’s his birthday tomorrow he shant suffer any longer but a little bit more wouldn’t kill him yknow ❤️

i like the way u think anon!!! if i ever post a part 3 it’ll probably be after the majority of my event anyway… bc i am posting smth tmrrw for his bday. but i can just. imagine the heartbreak…

when he finally works up the courage to just talk to you again, he’s so hopeful and he can tell u already know what he’s about to ask;; and before he can even start talking you’re stopping him like, “gojo, i know what you’re going to say—“ but he keeps cutting you off and won’t let you get a word in. he probably has to even shout at you to just let him talk once or twice bc you both know what he’s ab to do, n he knows ur not stupid and that you’re fully aware and you want to stop him probably to prevent him from hurting more. but that means you’ll say no and he doesn’t like thinking about that so he ignores it. n then he confesses and you’re all like “i cant, i have a boyfriend” but he just. doesn’t get it so he asks you “why? why cant we be together?” why do you hate me? and eventually you’re the one who’s cutting him off and just… ouch. lots of pain!

good ending is you eventually come to realize you feel more for satoru than freckles boy and you accept him and go on coffee dates together happily ever after :3

pt 1 + 2

[devil-in-hiding]

(Im not sure if tumblr ate my ask the first time so I figured I’d resend - pls just ignore this if the other one did send 😖) hello!! I really love your writing and have re-read the on the run series maybe 100 times 😅 I normally never submit stuff since I’m not really a writer but I really loved your series and wanted to contribute! 😊

So I loved the idea of the boys adjusting to the security of the farm and getting all beefy and stuff as they settle in, but I was also thinking about farmer reader also starting to relax a little now that she’s got these guys to keep her company, protect, help, etc…. So she also starts putting on a lil bit and it drives the guys nuts 🫠

Like she goes to put on her regular sun dresses and price can’t help but notice how tight it fits her and shows off her figure. Gaz comes across her old clothes (and bras and stuff 👀) being put out to donate as she looks for bigger sizes. Ghost is standing behind her when she bends down to pick up something and can see the fabric stretch across her ass. Finally, soap walks in as she has to jump to put her now slightly too tight jeans on 👀👀👀

Anyway that’s all I had to contribute!! Love ur work (and you!! 😗) 😊💞💗

anon i adore this!! i am sorry i remember seeing this but i believe it got lost in the flood 😭😭

but YES! you have to cook for 5 now, and they’re big boys!! so big portions, and they scold you if you try to give yourself tiny portions, Price also refuses to let you make their plates (it’s a war because you like doing this for them, it’s.. domestic…)

Please if Price couldn’t keep his hands to himself before he is 10x worse seeing how some of your favorite little dresses hardly reach your knees anymore

all the boys watching you load up the truck with donation bags for the little thrift store in town, enjoying the way you hop to shove the last bag in the cab “gee guys, thanks for the help.”

however the sack with all your too small panties? oh those were free game that Gaz snatched right out of the burn pile and the four of them laid them out, snatching up their favorites

Ghost is the worst about putting things in high places so he can watch the way your tits bounce whilst trying to grab it, whining at him to “please just grab it for me! Ghost!”

Soap is the groper, can not control himself whenever you decide to slip onto the couch with him, pulling you to his chest as he adjust y’all’s positions until you were leaning back into him, his hands squeezing your belly appreciatively

ugh i love this and i do not have the brain cells to tell you how MUCH but they love watching their sweet little farmer plump up, tension easing from your shoulders ass the months start to blur together, no longer having to carry the whole farm by yourself

[churipu]

THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY'RE IN LOVE ִ ࣪𖤐

featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, itadori yuuji, toji fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing, college! au, toji being a single father during his second term of uni (i searched that most japanese college uses 2 terms or trimester system / 3 terms, 1 term of uni in japan is around 15 weeks apparently) -> please tell me if i get this wrong.

note. omg, for the anons who have sent in requests to me, i apologize if these came out before your requests did, i'm trying to empty out my drafts :( but pls note that i am not ignoring your requests at all, it will be written, i promise <;33

GOJO SATORU

when he finds himself checking his phone countless of times, waiting for your message

i promise you, you both started out as work partners in one of your lectures. the two of you were complete strangers to each other — he doesn't know you, and you don't know him. but, either way, the two of you had to get to know each other because this was a crucial grade to pass this lecture.

gojo never thought about having feelings towards you, his work partner. he thought to himself, he'd just get this work done, pass this lecture, and never see you again.

but fate is a funny thing.

the way you made him feel like he wasn't just special because of his face, but his heart too. whereas most people in campus would consider him the pretty boy who could go head-to-head with the hottest celebrities — they just think of him as a pretty boy. and gojo would just go along with them, he gets used to it.

but you? you didn't consider him special at all. although, you did make him feel special the way other people can't.

gojo deep down, knows he was fucked up the moment he finds himself checking his phone to see if you'd reply to his messages, and when you do, he gets so happy. gojo was never a fast responder to everyone — because he practically receives the same kind of messages, "gojo hang out with us", "gojo go out with me", "gojo i like you".

but with you? he won't waste a second at all. even if sometimes you didn't reply as fast as he does, because you are a busy person in campus. you'll work on that after you both started dating, i promise.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

when you stood up for him when nobody would.

sukuna, how do i say this? not everyone is fond of him, people are scared of him — they talk shit behind his back, and don't dare to approach him. people dreaded when they have to be in the same group with him, despite the fact that he actually works; they still think he's a bad person.

"you guys are talking shit to a person who's in our group, if you want to say something to him, have the balls to say it to his face. and while he's here, why don't you tell him about it?" you tell the two people who were sitting beside you, who had been talking in whispers about how they were unlucky to be grouped up with sukuna.

and sukuna? he could honestly care less, he'd gotten used to those kind of things anyway. but when you actually stood up for him, he could only look at you with an amused smile.

he's definitely curious about you after that day — he has pride. and he'd never admit that he's actually pretty thankful that you, the first person to stand up for him, actually did what you did. because now people are a little terrified of being told off by you.

sukuna finally sucks it up at the end of the semester and tries to talk to you. yes, it took him the whole semester to talk to you, asking you for your number, and then thanking you for what you did because nobody has ever done that before to him.

ITADORI YUUJI

when you went all out to tutor him so he'd pass his lectures, teaching him patiently when he doesn't understand something.

yuuji hates studying. and when his lecturer asked you to tutor him, he feels extremely bad for you — he feels that he'd just going to waste your time tutoring him, when he knows that he's going to fail this one subject.

but when you reassured him, and encouraged him. saying that you will do anything to teach him so that he could pass, he gets a little emotional at the thought. you both were just mere classmates, and he barely knows you, vice versa.

when he doesn't understand a topic, he gets so frustrated at himself for not being able to understand it. but you, you were very patient with the male, reassuring him that you had the time to teach him over so that he will be able to understand the said topic.

and when he does finally understand, he gets so happy. he started looking forwards to your tutoring sessions, and like everyone said: if you enjoy something, it passes by quickly. and it's true, yuuji feels like time went by in a flash, and the exams soon started.

he passed with flying colors, he makes sure that you know about his grades — and points out that without you, he wouldn't be able to pass. yuuji, gets a little upset when he realizes that if the exams are over, you had no more tutoring sessions with him; which meant no more conversations.

so he has to ask you out right then, he didn't want to just return as mere classmates. he wanted to be more than that.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

when you didn't care about his shitty reputation of being a single father while still being on the second term of uni.

being a single parent is hard enough. not to mention, in university. not married, with a baby itself gets a lot of unwanted (negative) attention — toji, who once failed to get a babysitter on a weekday, and so he had to bring his eight month old son to class.

his son—megumi— was a calm baby, thankfully. the young one didn't cry or babble during lectures, and he just slept through it. toji was a little relieved to say the least, but ever since people find out about him being a single father to an eight month old baby, a lot of assumptions and words have gone around.

toji hated group works, especially when he has to pick the group himself. people didn't want a single father to be in their group, they assumed that the male would focus on his baby and ends up deserting the group work.

so when that particular day where he has to bring megumi to campus, strapped on a baby carrier on his chest. his lecturer just had to give out a partner work, and to add the cherry on top; the lecturer left the class to choose their own partner. so the male sat on his place, a pencil in between his nose and upper lip as he puckered them lightly — hearing his classmates choosing each other.

he figured that he could just do this and get the grade himself, solo. but when you came up and slipped into the seat next to him, he was of course surprised.

you asked him if he would like to partner up with you for this work, and after a few seconds, he accepted your offer.

toji knew it was getting bad when you didn't care about what people say about you getting close to him. just by choosing him for this work made your reputation falter a bit, and he was honestly ready for you to back out of the partner work.

but you didn't, and he knew it's bad for him, his feelings, and his heart.

the way you treated him and megumi like they're both normal (which they are normal humans), and the way you always make him feel included makes his heart race. sometimes, when he fails to look for a babysitter when you both are working for this project, you tell him he didn't have to since megumi is a calm baby.

he finds himself in awe when baby megumi plays with you during both of your little meet ups outside of class to do the project. he's in love.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[saleeba]

fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off. 

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person. 

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad. 

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends. 

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for. 

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.” 

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it. 

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words. 

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though. 

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other. 

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel. 

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests. 

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again. 

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude 

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late. 

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole  – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry. 

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head. 

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home. 

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up. 

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision. 

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs. 

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now. 

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely. 

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy. 

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s. 

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.” 

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release. 

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,” 

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste. 

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once. 

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions. 

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones. 

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.  

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail. 

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.

[quantum1mmortality]

HIII HELLOOO HIII YOUR WRITING IS SO AMAZING AAAHHH KISS EMOJI??!?!?! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About requests!!! What's about some reverse comfort or even reverse comfort for Curly when reader or he is very stressed for some reason??? Maybe one of them had a nightmare, or had awful day at job???

ANYWAYS HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GOOD DAY THANK YOU FOR YOUR WORK MWAH ❤️❤️❤️

Hello again chat, lovely seeing you here

I'm slightly confused on what this ask is... Asking. So I'm just gonna do hcs on how curly would want to be comforted/how he expresses his feelings, and how he would comfort reader(YOU!!! 🫵)

Forgive me if this is not what you wanted anon

Not proofread

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Curly comes off as a very confident and optimistic person. But, he, like everyone else, is human. So certain things are bound to get to him.

I feel as though he'd be the type of man to try to hide these emotions from you. He doesn't want you seeing him like that, he doesn't want you to think he's weak.

So I think the way he'd show he's upset or stressed is by being quiet. Not by ignoring you, but in a way that you can definitely tell whats going on.

When he's in this state, the only thing you can really do to try and help him is to be near him. Your presence comforts him, so cuddling him on the couch helps quicken the process.

Eventually, he'll start talking to you. Saying why he's feeling the way he is and exactly how he feels. You can't hear it in his voice, but small tears would run down his cheeks while talking.

Again, there's not much you can really do to help him when he's in this state. All you can really do is listen.

Once he's done crying and telling you all about his current problems, he's fine again. Like, back to normal. Like how does he recover that quickly??? But hey, if it helps him, that's all that matters.

Now, on the flip side, Curly is the KING of comforting people(specifically you though).

Coming home crying after a long, stressful day at work? He's got you covered, he just needs to know what you're in the mood for.

Want something to eat? He'll make you your comfort food that you mentioned once 5 years ago and he somehow still remembers it.

Not in the mood to eat? Alright, he'll just put your favorite movie on and you guys can watch it together.

And of course, if you need to talk about it, he'll always listen to whatever you have to say.

Another thing he does when you're stressed out is just, give you a bath; but in a cool husband way. He'll run a warm bath, maybe add in some flower petals and your favorite essential oils, and just pick you up and plop you in there.

He'll even stay at the side of the tub in case you need anything. Most of the time it's just silence, but in a therapeutic way.

And if he were to join you in that bath as per your request there would be NO tomfoolery!!! Curly would save that for another time, preferably when you're not emotionally distressed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N; I need to write for this man so bad like I actually feel like I'm going insane curly pls one chance I swear I'll treat you so good plsplspslspslsllsllslslspsllspspsls

[bamfkeeper]

Breed.

RQ: 'I hope you are doing well. I'm not gonna lie, I was so excited when I saw that your requests are open! I've been loving your work and I am pumped! I also have crazy baby fever and was eating up the pregnancy request you filled. Since you've already done that angle, how would you feel about the aforementioned breeding kink Kurt has in one of your original NSFW head cannons for him which includes info for a masculine but gender-neutral reader. It can be in any format you want and no worries if you don't feel like writing for it or for the gender neutral angle specifically. I understand writing every day is exhausting and appreciate all the work you've already done. It is excellent!' - Anon

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Gender neutral reader, but masculine body parts are described and terms are used (hopefully I understood the request properly). Breeding kink, blowjobs & deepthroat, anal play & sex pls prep irl 😭, somewhat feral Kurt hehe.

A/N: I don't mind at all, I have been wanting to write more masculine readers anyway since I have had a handful of people message me and ask. Even though this is a gender neutral with masculine features, I still hope it is enjoyable. Did not edit any mistakes please ignore danke.

WC: 1.8k

"Kurt?" your eyes spotted your blue boyfriend after he teleported to your room. "What's gotten into you?" you questioned, you had been lounging on the bed with a book when Kurt appeared, nearly prowling and crawling his way over to you. He was nipping and kissing your neck before another word could be spoken, eager and desperate. You were surprised, he hadn't behaved like this before.

He had yet to speak to you, he was busy nipping and kissing your skin. You couldn't deny how good it felt, he always knew the spots to tease you. His hands roamed your body, feeling over you and teasing down your sides. His gentle fingertips tickling ever so slightly on your bare skin.

"Need you, liebe," he rasped, his hard cock grinding into your leg and making your cheeks flush, your own dick slowly waking up. When he lifted from where he was buried, you could see how needy he was by his expression. His cheeks dusted with violet and he was panting, almost whining at you. As you looked at him, you felt your heart speed up. He was so desperate, but you knew his patience was waning, his grip on you had become more possessive.

"Bitte....bitte," he groaned, his cock leaking and swollen. It made you swallow thickly, how big it looked just from his desperation. The pretty blue dick blushed with purple and the head so angry, slick with precum that had been spreading on your leg.

Your smile was soft and understanding, you reached up and cupped his face. His cheeks were so soft and velvety, you adored how he felt against your skin. "Are you rutting?" you teased, his eyes widened and the only response you got was a strangled cry. He pinned you down, his chest heaving as he stared down at you. "Can't...resist." he panted, his hand moved down your abdomen, gripping your hips.

Once he struggled to have you bare, he leaned down to your cock, literally panting by now. His mouth worked you, but he didn't waste too much time sucking you off, he flipped you onto your belly, moving and spreading you open. He gazed as you before he began lapping at your hole. His tongue pressed firmly on your tight ring, slowly and carefully prodding his way inside after a multitude of eager laps.

You moaned as you felt his tongue work you, it didn't do much to prep you other than get you nice and slick for him. You looked between your legs and saw his cock bobbing, you whined softly and pulled away from his delightful tongue, earning a confused growl from him.

You shifted your body, facing his eager cock and you gently stroked him, your tongue running over his head and he growled again. Kurt lifted himself up on his knees and his body moved over yours, pushing his hips so his cock slid further into your mouth. You groaned at the sensation of him stretching your throat, but you eagerly let him slowly thrust into you. Your tongue and mouth worked him as his hips moved, your nose buried in his pubic hair while he moved.

His cock was weeping, coating your tongue and the back of your throat in his precum with each thrust. Kurt's soft moans filled the room, your chin was coated with saliva, his balls gently slapping your chin each time his hips moved forward. You managed to make a whine, and he pulled out of you, allowing you a moment to breath and relax your jaw. "Turn around," he rasped, his eyes were darker than normal and it was hard to ignore your own cock throb at his tone of voice.

You felt his head poke your ass, and you stiffened up. "I'm sorry, liebe...I can't help myself." he whispered and he slowly sunk himself into you. The way his cock stretched you made your eyes widen and a loud mewl escape your trembling lips. It burned, and it felt so good. He pushed until he was completely hilted in your ass, his eyes half lidded as his hands gripped your hips.

His tail thrashed behind him, it took everything in Kurt's soul not to immediately thrust into you.

But he knew better.

He wanted you to adjust, he was rather eager anyway.

"Ahh...oh my god..." you gasped, your fists holding the sheets in an iron grip, your body struggling but you breathed steadily in hopes of tricking yourself into relaxing. You wanted to ease up so he could move without any sort of discomfort.

"How do you feel now, schatz?" he rasped after a few minutes, you could feel him shaking behind you, the poor German was struggling so bad. You gently pressed your hips back to him, signaling it was okay for him to move. With that silent invitation, he glanced down at you for a brief second to make sure that's what you wanted, then he pulled himself back slowly. His thick cock dragging out of you teasingly before thrusting back inside with the quick snap of his hips.

A soft cry exited your throat as you felt him thrust all the way back inside, and you felt your cock throb when he pushed against that sweet spot. Kurt's thrusts were slow at first, slow but firm, and then they quickened. Soon he was thrusting at an even and fast pace, his chest against your back as his hips refused to stop moving. Kurt's warm breath spread across your neck and back as he let out quick pants with each thrust.

Good god did you feel good, so deliciously tight, you were milking him.

"Naughty...gluttonous...little thing, Mein Gott..." he whispered through his teeth, baring them as he hissed slightly while your ass tightened around his base. "You are going to be the death of me..." he rasped out, looking down to watch his blue cock disappear within you each time. He throbbed more seeing how he stretched your sweet, swollen hole, moaning loudly against you as his balls slapped into yours.

"Mmn...Kurt, ah...you feel so good, you're stretching my ass out," you rasped to him, "I'm gluttonous for you only," you replied to his teasing comment, smiling a bit. "It's a sin and I should be reprimanded for it, right Mister Priest?" you teased him right back, pushing backwards into his thrust, the slight angle change made Kurt growl out.

Suddenly he was almost laying on you, pounding into you even harder. "Ah, ah, liebe....I am gonna put a bamf in you..." he groaned against the back of your neck, his teeth gently biting your skin and holding on while his body was controlling him. He couldn't help himself, he needed this. So badly.

You whined in response to this, knowing that no, not really, but fantasy was too much to deny. Poor Kurt was pent up and you could tell by the pure desperation he was fucking you in. His cock was also rubbing that sweet spot inside you perfectly, how could you deny him?

"Ah, yes Kurt! Put a bamf in me, put a lot of them! I wanna be full of you, full and bred, please," you moaned back out to him, egging him on with your wavering voice and tearful cries of pleasure. It seemed to be all he needed. His tail wrapped around your body and secured you against him, his hips snapping into your ass that you were sure a bruise would be left when you were done.

"I am going to fill you full of my seed, you will be full and bred like a good partner....you'll hold me in you, I will put more inside again and again...." he slurred like he were drunk, but just so taken with pleasure he couldn't help it. No one could make him feel so good, no one but you. He held you tight, hugging your body close in such a way that you knew you were loved, and he was fucking you so damn good all the while.

You couldn't even focus, god he was ruining you.

Your eyes were barely open, you swore you looked like an idiot, maybe they were crossed? You had no clue.

Kurt panted quicker, snapping harder and faster, his tail snaked down and wrapped around your poor neglected cock and stroked you, adding more fuel to the fire. Your cries increased, your cock leaked as his tail worked its magic. "Come for me, liebe...let me know how I make you feel...I will come with you, and fill you so good...I'll breed you nice and full..."

"I'm c-close," you warned, right as his cock found a new angle inside and continuously hit your pleasure spot, that tender bit of flesh deep inside that made you want to scream. And you did. You cried out, his name and a long list of 'oh god's' and profanities left your mouth as you felt your dick swell before releasing on to the sheets below your belly.

In return, Kurt also came hard, but his thrusting didn't stop. He continued, his hips moving back and forth as his dick continuously leaked out and shot thick ropes of his seed inside your ass. You felt it slosh as he just kept coming. Was he this pent up? Or just really horny? It made you want to come again, knowing this is what you did to him.

His head fell back and finally, he came to a stop, his cock still sheathed into you. The room was filled with heavy panting, you could barely hold your own hips up on your shaky legs. Kurt was dazed, he felt like he was completely empty, you had milked him. Your asshole squeezed him like a vice and refused to let him go.

After some maneuvering, Kurt laid beside you, his arms wrapped around your body and held you flush against him. You were both a little sweaty, but he didn't care at the moment, wanting to stay buried in you for the time being. "Liebe...you felt so...wunderbar..." he whispered against your neck, his lips pressing tender kisses on the spot he bit.

You snuggled back into him, pressing your back against his chest, feeling his cock still inside you but you didn't want him out yet. "Stay inside...keeps your cum in me." you whispered, Kurt's grip tightened on you in response.

"Ja...keeps my seed in you." he purred against your skin. "Bred so well..." he rasped weakly, he was so tired now, the sleepiness of the high was hitting him and he wanted to rest. You were both dirty, but for now, you both just wanted to relish and drag out the moment as long as possible.

Besides, feeling each other like this was your favorite thing, and it was his too.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover image from X-Men 97.

[madame-fear]

Hi, can I please have an orange americano + red velvet? (Modern!jace fic based off the song “play date” by Melanie Martinez where Jace hasn’t been treating the reader well and she wants to leave him but she can’t because she loves him so much. Can it have a super angsty ending pls) (also, I’m the anon from before. I was asking if I should put iced coffee + orange americano 💗)

𐙚 ⸻ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄.

i don’t give a fuck about you anyways, whoever said I gave a shit ’bout you? // you know i give a fuck about you everyday, guess it’s time that i tell you the truth

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : my darling nonnie, thank you for the wonderful order! i truly hope this was what you expected,, and overall, carries as much angst as you hoped for. I did my best to end it as angsty as possible! ♡ ⟶ check amira’s coffee shop masterlist. 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. ∿ request above! 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 1.1k (apologies for the short length! I am getting back my inspiration very slowly but surely ;;__;;)

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. purely angst. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. modern!jacaerys velaryon x gf!reader.

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; jace being a bit of an asshole (sorry pookie bear!) and kind of ignoring you, veeery slight mentions of cheating, and brief mentions of you arguing.

The line continued to ring almost endlessly, as you kept calling Jace over and over. The track of time managed to easily slip through your fingers each time you attempted to call him, being of no use at all in the end. Hours passed since Jace told you that he would be going to a friend’s party, and a mix between concern and disappointment filled you.

At the moment, the faint ringing coming from your phone was the only sound heard echoing across your room, accompanied by a sigh spurring from you; a sigh expressing both frustration and a growing dismay, fueling your previous disappointment. A knot had formed on your throat, almost choking you, as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. This wouldn’t be the first, or last time that it happened— you were often left hanging, no matter what you did.

All the effort you put, only for a hanging line sound to beep a few times against your ear once again. Like it always did.

You firmly nibbled on your lower lip, fluttering your eyes shut— a burden heavily sat on your chest, almost tightening your breath. Inhaling deeply and in a shaky manner, you effortlessly threw your phone on the bed, and allowed the weight of your head against your palm devastated.

What had you done to deserve such treatment, you wondered? When you offered nothing but unconditional love and devotion, you were paid back with excruciating indifference. And what about his sweet words and kind treat he used to woo you with? In the end, you seemed to be nothing but a play date for him— something for Jace to have fun with for some time, while you were wrapped around his finger. A mere play date is what you felt like, and he proved it with his behaviour.

It didn’t matter just how hard you tried to become indifferent towards him, how you didn’t give a shit; how your head tried to wrap itself around the idea of breaking up and leaving him, as you should— but something always held you back. Ceaselessly, you had attempted to convince yourself that you were far worthier than the pain Jace bought you, but you were foolish enough to stay in your place for your undisputed adoration towards him.

That undisputed adoration was the same cause for you to remain right where you were, withholding you. Jace bought you pain with the way he so blatantly opted to ignore you, and was often seen partying with other girls— but the pain would only be greater if you broke up with him. The idea of leaving his side was bitter, almost poisonous.

You did love Jace most dearingly, but you were just a toy for him to play with. One that chased after him desperately, being at his disposal whenever he wished; and coming to terms with that was no easy task— in fact, you refused to believe so. Many of your friends insisted on the fact that you should leave him for your own mental wellbeing, but you just couldn’t. No one could understand how much effort such simple — and neccessary — decision took.

“I can’t be by your side all the time, (y/n)! I’ve got things to do!” you remembered him shouting at you in frustration, before he left with some friends. That had been one of your many fights, and they were all about the same topic— him seeming to care very little about you. Jace’s excuses were that studying and working were draining, consuming all his time and energy to spend any of them on you.

“I’m not asking you to be with me all day long! All I’m asking is that you show that you do care just a little bit, instead of ignoring all my efforts and go partying with a bunch of other girls!” as you shouted back at him, your own voice was frail and quivery, poorly attempting to not start crying right in front of him. Whether he spent every passing second of the days by your side wasn’t the true matter— it was the lack of appreciation towards how you continously remained faithful and adoring to him, you seemed to only matter whenever he felt like it.

You understood, and you never overcomplained about the responsabilities that came day to day, as you had your own work and studies— but you had grown tired of understanding and remaining silent, when you were well aware that all his spare time was spent on hanging out with his friends, and being on parties surrounded by other girls... Mostly, spending time with Baela, one of the girls from his friend’s group.

Everyone suspected that Jace hung out with Baela behind your back, as more than just friends— but you preferred to play dumb and look elsewhere, as much as the thought painfully weighed on your conscience; because you knew all those suspicions were true.

You were treated as a fool, used for mere fun. What fun was there in being with someone just to be chased after and play with their feelings? You were tired of understanding and saying practically nothing at all. Not caring was difficult when all you hoped for, was for the immense devotion you offered to be reciprocated.

Faintly beginning to sob, tears escaped from your eyes, leaving a hot wet trail behind as they rolled through your cheeks— hiding your face in your hands, choking on your own tears. Overthinking never did any good to you, but who could judge you considering the place you were in? The situation was almost too overwhelming to bear. Sorrow and disappointment asphyxiated you constantly, leaving you burdened with your own thoughts. Had you done anything for him to not show an ounce of love for you, despite your attempts in making him feel cared for?

“He clearly doesn’t respect you. Why don’t you break up with him for once?” but it was easier said than done, when no one was in your place... When you wanted this to be more than just a one-time thing. At times, you felt your own idea of love was far more different than the rest of the people— and you blamed yourself for idealising someone who tossed you away, toying around with your feelings.

You were just a play date for him, while he was the person you adored the most despite all the pain his presence bought in your life. And all you felt you could do, was swallow the bitterness that came with your relationship— attempting to drown the constant rising thoughts of breaking up with him, knowing it would hurt far more than having your efforts to show genuine affection passed unnoticed.

You wanted to leave, but it felt almost as if you were trapped in a labyrinth— and your own silly devotion was at fault, when you knew he cared very little whether you remained with him by his side, or not.

◞ ��� ๋࣭ ⭑ ` taglist .ᐟ @jacesvelaryons @keiratonks @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1

@aegonswife @cloveradora @angrybirdxx @crack240 @number-0-iz

@nerdyphantomlady @julekaa @arabelllatargaryen @mduds @taylordaughter

@mikelark-muller @bailey1212 @aniisbavk1 @housetargaryenloyalist @imanewsoul

@withjinkoo @hearts4li @atargaryenlover @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @delightfulbluebirdtidalwave

@embersfae @lady-ashfade @tallrock35 @alyssa-dayne

@cupids-mf-arrow @happinessinthebeing @azlyneamie099

→ click here if you want to join my taglist! ♡

[roosterr]

Heyyy! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests rn.. BUT if you areee, can I just please get a john price with the prompt “why are you avoiding me?” (Bc I’m a slut for angst) with a large fry on the side? IF NOT I TOTALLY COOL

outside it starts to pour

note: two posts in one month? who am i? i hope this is angsty enough lol, i re-wrote it 3 times bc i wasnt happy with it, its a love hate relationship 🥲 but anyway pls enjoy anon!!!

pairing: john price x gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: in your dreams, you're more than just someone who warms john's bed

warnings: fwb, implied smut but no actual smut, angst, miscommunication (i cant help myself), hurt/no comfort, no happy ending

ao3

"why're you avoidin' me?"

the question echoes in your ears, drowning out the war drum of your heartbeat despite the heavy silence that settles between you.

john has a hand around your arm, gentle and barely there but still anchoring you in place like a vice with just his light touch. the back of your mind screams for you to rip yourself free, get as far away from the familiar timbre of his voice and the near-stifling comfort of his smoky scent as you can before he can get you in his web again. but just like always, he's got you right where he wants you.

how many times have you been pulled behind the door he was halfway out of? and how many times have you been ushered back out again with your hair and heart a mess, just to pretend like nothing happened? always one foot in your little secret and one in his reputation, never fully with you; that's how the captain operated, and you feel like a fool for ever believing otherwise.

a squeeze to your arm brings you back to the present, suddenly all too aware of his fingers against your skin and his eyes boring into your own with an intensity that has your heart fluttering – against your mind's better judgement.

"i'm not." your response is a mutter, your gaze dropping from his to the hardwood ahead of you. it's unconvincing, even to you, but he had no right to question you like this.

"you are." he shoots back, gruffly and without a second of hesitation. from the corner of your vision you see his brow furrow, casting shadow over those eyes that always captivate you so mercilessly.

a sigh escapes his chest at your lack of response, his eyes darting from one end of the hallway to the other before giving your arm a miniscule tug, nodding his head back towards his office.

that's how it always starts. the thought makes your heart clenches painfully. "stop. i don't want to–"

"no." he interrupts firmly, with a shake of his head so resolute it almost has you believing that was never his intention to begin with. your eyes gravitate towards his again, and there's a spark of something, under the surface, when his thumb strokes your skin, dipping just below the hem of your sleeve. "talk to me, what's wrong?"

the urge to give in is tempting, to fall into his arms like you always do, just how he wants, how he expects you to. this time, however, you're determined to avoid his trap.

"it's nothing," you avert your gaze again, sighing in the same moment you take his wrist and slowly pull his touch from your arm, "just leave it."

john tuts. "it's not nothin', though, is it?" he asks, sidestepping into your line of sight again and ignoring the pointed look you give him. "talk to me."

if he cared for you the same way you do for him, his persistence would be endearing, but you know better. you're a good soldier who just so happens to be a good fuck too; that's all you are to him, and that's all you'll ever be.

"i told you. drop it." you shake your head, face creasing into a frown as you turn on your heel. if you have to endure any more of his deceiving sympathy, you know you'll only end up caving to his desires. you're not that strong, and that's why you need to keep as much distance as possible between you.

"you're somewhere else, lieutenant." he calls after you, stopping you in your tracks before you can get too far. you don't bother to turn around, but he continues anyway. "if you can't get your head back in the game, i can't risk havin' you out in the field."

your indignant laugh bounces off the walls.

"it's just that easy for you, isn't it?" there's a lump in your throat as you force the last two words over it, one you hope neither of you will acknowledge.

"and what's that supposed to mean?" he scoffs, the sound of his boots taking a few damning steps closer to where you stand, still with your back to him.

"i don't know why i'm offended, you always do this." you mutter, bringing your hand up to smooth over the crease of your brow, the tremble there barely noticeable but telling of your fragile state.

he doesn't respond this time, waiting for you to elaborate with what you're sure is a glare directed at the back of your head.

"you find something to take, and take, and take from," you spin around to face him again, which proves to be a mistake because the second you meet his concerned eyes, you can feel the sting of tears in your own. "and as soon as it's not useful to you anymore, you chuck it away like yesterday's leftovers."

the silence that follows your outburst is so tense it weighs you down. you can't will yourself to move, to tear your gaze away from him even when your vision blurs. it takes a moment for you to realise just how ragged your breathing has become, feeling the hard rise and fall of your chest over your racing heart as you come down from your anger.

"that… that's not what this is." john utters, his face morphing into something you coin as pity, and it makes your heart squeeze all over again.

"don't. i told you to fucking leave it…" your voice is weaker than before, and you curse yourself for showing this amount of weakness in front of him, because now you know he knows that it was never just sex to you. he never meant that little to you.

by some miracle you manage to blink away the tears before they can fall and embarrass you further. you wait for him to say something, in a painful sense of awkwardness that's never been there before, but all he does is stare at you.

"i can't do this anymore." you whisper, the words muffled through the blood rushing in your ears. you fix him with another scathing look before turning to leave for the second time tonight.

"wait." he calls your name as you walk away, quickly moving to catch up with you, but you have no desire to listen to him, not anymore. he gives you no time to react when he rushes to stand in your path, grasping both your shoulders to stop you when you try to sidestep him. "for fucks sake, just hold on."

there's a conflicted look in his gaze that seems to pull his expression down with it. if you had anything left to give you might've felt bad for being the cause, but it's been months of this game of cat and mouse, and you're drained.

"it was a mutual arrangement," he urges, his eyes search yours, something you can't discern muddying the deep blue as they dart across your face.

you give a watery scoff, rolling your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache his touch brings you. "there was no arrangement. you're not an idiot, john, you knew how i felt about you."

"what?" he has the audacity to sound confused, and you have to resist the urge to scoff again. "how you felt about me? what're you saying?"

"i think it's pretty obvious by now." you mutter, folding your arms over you chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. he hasn't taken his eyes off you once, your skin prickling under his intense stare. "i'm an idiot for thinking this would go any other way."

there's another heavy pause, john opens his mouth and closes it again like he was fighting with himself on what to say. the way your throat has constricted makes it hard to breath without sobbing, your breath coming out laboured and uneven.

"do you regret it?" he finally asks, his fingertips pressing into your flesh almost imperceptibly, leaving your skin tingling even though your shirt.

it was self-destruction, giving in to him every time even though it felt like a thorn in your heart. to allow yourself to live in the fantasy that he loved you while you were in his arms, just to have that warm feeling shattered when he told you to get dressed.

"yes."

you regret falling for someone who would never love you back.

"it's over. let me go, captain." you whisper, a plea for him to release you from whatever spell he's got you under, even if you don't really mean it.

his hands drop from your shoulders, letting one curl into a fist at his side and bringing the other up to scratch his beard in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. you know it's for the better, but the knowledge couldn't stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you brush past him, feeling his gaze burning into you as you lean away to avoid touching him.

he doesn't stop you when you walk away this time.

[giveafike]

ben shelton taking you on a date after flirting for months on atp/wta tour 😋

TLDR: Tennisplayer!fem reader x Ben Shelton flirting on tour until Ben acc gets a grip and asks reader out.

EDIT: part 2 here!

Word count + info: 5.1k! A LONG one but I just do not know how to stfu!! Dialogue (including comments, texts, phone calls - lots of flirting and teasing). Mentions of Carlos Alcaraz too (couldn't resist) alongisde Frances Tiafoe and Taylor Fritz.

Character Inspo: She's cheeky n playful (was listening to Promiscuous Girl - Nelly Furtado & 5 Star Hotel - Raye as I was writing this amongst many other similar songs so.... yea...behaviour like Sabrina Carpenter - yk just... fun! I didn't write any specifications but in my head I was envisioning Tyla so! But put whoever you want to cast ;)

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW, this is sooo cute. There is a little naughty tsk tsk suggestive scene (CAR SCENE - feel free to skip) bit but nothing NSFW, teasing, playful relationship, little jabs here n there, hope its making ur feet kick! I hope it's funny too, like it makes u smile bc I had sm fun writing this !

Azzie Notes ✚: I literally gasped and giggled when I saw this prompt - I can't!!! SO, so, soooo cute I loved this prompt anon pls keep sending me more, you have this writer wrapped around your finger now. I love the idea of Ben with a WTA player, such a cute and fun dynamic!! Anyways, hope you all enjoy ;)

————————————————————————

Game, Set, Match - B.T.S

You stood on the court, the crowd's roar fading into a distant hum as you focused on the match ahead. A small smile played on your lips, and your eyes narrowed in determination. The bright sun overhead felt like a spotlight, buzzing on your skin, illuminating your every move and sharpening each muscle in your body. You were a force to be reckoned with — both polarising and captivating, your quick wit and cheeky banter stirred strong opinions. With a playful shrug and a blown kiss to the crowd, you dismissed the critics, your confidence as effortless as your serves.

Years of competing in Junior Opens had forged your resilience, and now you have been stepping into the world of professional tennis, where the stakes were higher and opponents fiercer. You had navigated this transition well over the past few years, finding your rhythm amidst the pressure, your footing steady on the path to greatness. The attention came quick too, especially with names like Nike wanting you to be an ambassador, and all sorts of products wanting you to be the face of the company, from protein powders to headphones - it was endless. The taste of victory was sweet and addictive, each match bringing you closer to the big prizes and recognition you had longed for. But just when you thought you had everything figured out, a whisper of uncertainty began to tug at the edges of your focus... not a what, but more a who?

In the past year and a half, life on tour has shifted for you in a whole different gear. Don't get it twisted, tennis remained top priority, but there was an undeniable spark that made the grind far more enjoyable and unpredictable, and that spark was no other than Ben Shelton. You first noticed him from afar, where casual nods turned into lingering glances that made the hair on your skin stand. With his raw power, boyish grin, and confidence that radiated from him, "Big Ben" was impossible to ignore. But it was during the Australian Open earlier this year that things between you really began to heat up.

Ben was anything but subtle. Once he set his sights on you, his flirting was relentless. You couldn’t help but feel flattered; it was hard not to get hooked to that buzz. After all, it wasn’t every day that a guy like him, full of charm and a teasing smile paid you so much attention. Others had thrown glances your way and offered compliments, but Ben? He stepped up his game like no one else.

Your first interaction was at a practice session where Ben sat by in the empty stands, right up by the court, arms folded and a smirk on his face. You could feel his gaze following you, his presence hard to shake off, not that you wanted to. As you finish another practice set, you heave, closing your fist to celebrate, and walk over to your bag, glancing up as his eyes light up as you catch his.

“You’re looking decent out there,” he teased, leaning over the railing, his voice laced with a challenge.

You stopped, placing a hand on your hip as you shot him a smirk, squinting up at him as you caught your breath. “Decent? It’s okay, I get it, it must be tough admitting I’m shaping up better than you.”

He laughed, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Better? That’s a stretch, Y/N. But I’ll let you keep thinking that.”

You shrugged, a teasing grin playing on your lips. “Believe it or not, it’s happening, Ben,” you winked before slinging your bag over your shoulder and heading toward the tunnel. His chuckle followed you as you disappeared from sight.

The banter didn’t end there, though. Throughout the tournament, you could feel his eyes on you, watching during your matches. On TikTok, he left comments that had both your fans and his buzzing. One day after you posted a training video, he had commented: “You sure you’re training for tennis and not modeling?”

You grinned, tapping out a reply. “I’m great at multitasking. What’s your excuse?”

His response was instant. “Just waiting for you to finally give me a real challenge.”

Comments turned into small conversations as you passed by each other, where you’d joke and flirt like it was the most natural thing in the world. His relentless teasing was addictive.  

It cooled off slightly to just a couple of liked stories and posts until Wimbledon had rolled around. By this point, the stakes felt higher. You were in top form, but off the court, the media seemed just as interested in your interactions than your matches. And it didn't end there either, it wasn't long before other peers started piqueing interest. For example, Carlos? He wasn’t subtle either.

After a long match, you were relaxing in the players’ lounge when Carlos wandered over, his smile too bright to ignore. He leaned against the table beside you, casually close.

“You were on fire out there today. Maybe we should hit the practice courts sometime,” he suggested with a casual grin.

You tilted your head, a playful glint in your eyes. “Careful, Carlos. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your fans.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll risk it. Besides, we’re both Nike athletes, we’ve got to stick together.”

Before you could reply, Ben Shelton walked into the room, his gaze locking onto you and Carlos immediately. His smile didn’t falter, but the way he sized up the interaction was hard to miss. He strolled over, hands in his pockets, exuding calm confidence.

“Carlitos,” Ben greeted, his tone casual, though the unspoken tension hung between the lines. “What’s this? Making future practice plans?”

Carlos shot Ben a quick glance, still smiling but aware of the shift. “Just talking about tennis, you know,” he said lightly. “Gotta keep sharp.”

Ben’s eyes flicked between you and Carlos before landing squarely on you. “I’m sure you can manage without help. She’s been getting a lot of attention lately, let her breathe.”

Carlos gave you a light tap on the arm before backing off, offering a polite nod. “Catch you later, Y/N.”

You waved him off with a smile. “See you around, Carlos.”

Once Carlos was out of earshot, Ben shifted a little closer, though still maintaining that casual air. “You’ve got him interested,” he commented, his voice dropping lower.

You looked up at him through your lashes, the corner of your mouth lifting into a sly grin. “What, jealous, Shelton?”

Ben’s grin spread wider, but his tone remained easygoing. “Nah, just keeping tabs. Making sure I’m not falling behind.”

You stood up slowly, meeting his gaze as you adjusted your posture, your eyes glinting with mischief. “I don’t mix business and pleasure, Ben. We’re both Nike—gotta keep it professional.”

He chuckled, tilting his head. “So, you’re saying you’re all business?”

You turned to face him fully, taking a step closer, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Oh, not always. But you’ll have to keep up to find out.”

With that, you brushed past him, leaving a lingering tension in the air. His eyes followed you as you walked away, and you could practically feel his grin growing. The banter was always playful, but now, with each exchange, the stakes seemed to rise; the unspoken understanding was clear: the game was very much on.

As the summer heat intensified, so did the buzz around Nike’s newest campaign. Your latest photoshoot was all about capturing both your athleticism and your bold personality. In a blue baby tee top with a heart-shaped keyhole and a matching skort, you struck poses that screamed confidence, captioned simply: "Ready?"

The comments rolled in quickly, and it didn’t take long before Ben made his appearance.

It didn’t take long for the comments to roll in. And as expected, Ben was quick to chime in.

benshelton:

"You call that ready? Looks more like you’re just warming up."

You chuckled, tapping your response.

Y/N.Y/LN:

"Warming up is all I need to beat you, Shelton."

benshelton:

"Beat me? Let's not get ahead of ourselves... You'd need more than a warm-up for that."

The banter was familiar, yet it always left you with a smirk. You leaned into the challenge.

Y/N.Y/LN:

"Careful, or I might just take that as a challenge."

benshelton:

"I play to win."

The playful back-and-forth didn’t go unnoticed by your fans, but it was clear this game of teasing wasn’t just for show. It must've been a week before it escalated further. You hsd landed a major Victoria’s Secret campaign, and it was unlike anything you had done before. They flew you out to Paris and guided you through the whole thing. The theme was dark and seductive—a fallen angel vibe. Lingerie, lace, and the kind of allure that left little to the imagination. You felt powerful, but also aware of how this would get attention—not just from the public, but from Ben.

You posted one of the shots late that night. The lighting was dramatic, casting soft shadows across your body as you reclined in lace.

The caption was simple yet suggestive: "Best kept secret. VS Summer 2024 Fallen Angel Collection, from me to you."

Naturally, Ben couldn’t resist commenting.

benshelton: Fallen angel, huh? Guess that means you’re trouble.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile as you typed out your reply.

Y/N.Y/LN:: I thought you liked trouble.

It was no surprise when he slid into your DMs right after that.

benshelton: "I do. But you're playing a dangerous game."

You bit your lip, leaning back against your hotel bed. It was late, and the quiet Paris night settled around you, but your heart raced.

Y/N.Y/LN: " A game? Who said I’m playing? "

benshelton: "You might not be playing, but you're already winning."

You hesitated for a moment, then smirked as you typed out your next message.

Y/N.Y/LN: "And here I thought you said you could keep up."

Almost immediately, your phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t another text. It was a FaceTime call. You let it ring for a beat or two, your pulse quickening, before answering.

Ben’s face appeared on your screen, his hair slightly damp and his grin all too familiar. "You really know how to mess with a guy’s head, you know that?"

You smiled, pulling your covers up over you and leaning into the pillow. "What’s got you all worked up? It’s just a campaign."

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Just a campaign? C’mon, you know exactly what you’re doing."

You blinked up at him, teasing. "And what is it that I am doing, Ben?"

His grin widened, but there was a glint in his eyes. "You’re pushing my limits. You're tempting me"

You chuckled, biting your lip as you let his words settle over you. "Tempting? Now that’s an accusation if I ever heard one. Maybe you're just easy to push."

Ben raised an eyebrow, viting a smile back as well. "Maybe I am. But you better be careful, or you might get burned."

The heat in his gaze made your heart skip, but you kept your tone light. "I think I can handle the heat."

Ben’s smile deepened. "That’s what I’m counting on."

You stared at each other through the screen, the tension palpable even across the distance.

Finally, you smirked, pulling the covers higher. "Goodnight, Shelton."

He sighed, but his grin didn’t falter. "Goodnight, angel. Sweet dreams."

From there, the texts seemed to pour out. Every random moment, one of you would reply to a post or find some excuse to message or call, any reason to interact. You had a secret surprise up your sleeve which you knew would practically bring Ben to his knees for you if he wasn't there already, and it had something to do with a custom dress for a red carpet.

It was a hot July night in Spain, the night draped itself around you like a warm embrace, the energy of the red carpet charity event still pulsing in the air. Your dress—a stunning, sheer, sand-colored creation—clung to your body in all the right places, slit at the thigh, your hair pinned back, accentuating your glossy, sheen skin on your neck down your shoulders. The dress shimmered under the streetlights, leaving just enough to the imagination, but not too much.

Photos were posted by your team, "behind the scene" shots and red carpet poses.  The cameras had devoured every moment, the attention was full on and the night buzzed well. You reveled in the limelight and felt like a true celebrity for the night but, as the evening wore on, you began to feel drained from all the social interactions and wished you could just be alone with your phone, texting the one man who truly kept you on your toes.

Finally, as you collapsed into the backseat of your car, exhausted but exhilarated from the night's events, your phone buzzed with a missed call from Ben. The driver glanced back at you through the rearview mirror as you eagerly turned on your phone and smiled to yourself. In that moment, all you wanted was to be alone with Ben and continue this thrilling game of flirtation and surprises. You call him back after a minute passes, butterflies in your stomach fluttering away.

"Couldn't wait, could you?" you teased, giggling as you leaning back against the plush seat. His grin appeared instantly, filling your screen.

"Wait? After that post?" Ben's voice was a mixture of playful frustration and barely concealed admiration. His eyes roamed over your dimly lit image through the screen as though he could see you sitting there in that dress. "You’ve been trying to kill me with these looks for months, but this? This is the final straw."

You laughed softly, pretending to adjust the neckline of your dress as he clearly struggled to keep his composure. "I'm just doing my job. Don’t get too distracted."

Ben shook his head, a grin still lingering on his lips. "Distracted? I’ve been refreshing Instagram like a madman just to catch another angle of you. And from what I saw, I’m not the only one. You’ve got every guy on tour dropping their jaw."

You smirked, rolling your eyes playfully. "You jealous?"

"Jealous? Let’s see. Alcaraz, Ruud… even Tsitsipas liked your post. You know that guy doesn’t just like anything. But trust me, no one’s more jealous than me," Ben teased, his voice dipping lower.

You laughed softly, brushing a hand over your dress as you adjusted the fabric, playing coy. "Ben, there’s only one person I’m trying to get a rise out of—and it’s definitely not them."

His grin widened, eyes gleaming through the screen,scheming away, "Glad to hear that. So...how about you give me something a little more exclusive?Just a sneak peek. Something that’s all mine."

You crossed your legs slowly, feeling the slit in the dress reveal just a bit more skin, and you caught the driver’s eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror. He quickly cleared his throat and looked away.

You smirked, feeling a rush of boldness. "I'm in public, Shelton. What are you suggesting?"

Ben’s eyes glinted with mischief, his grin widening. "Nothing crazy. Just a little something to hold me over."

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back, the sound of the city humming outside as you sighed. You stretched your legs out across the backseat, angling your body to the side, draping yourself across the backseat for a full body shot. The dress shifted, catching the city light while still being dimly lit, showing off your figure perfectly as you lounged effortlessly. "Is this what you had in mind, Ben? A full shot?" you purred, looking up at your phone, your eyes sweet and innocent.

Ben’s jaw tightened, his chest rising as he exhaled sharply. "Damn, Y/N, I knew you'd look good, but this…" He let out a low whistle, leaning closer to the screen, his eyes glinting and a blush creeping up all over. "You’re not playing fair."

You smirked, enjoying the power shift. "Fair? You asked for it, Shelton."

He laughed, but it was strained, the heat in his voice unmistakable. "Yeah, but you know how to take it to another level. Now I'm the one who's going to be distracted all night." His tone softened, a teasing edge returning. "Just one more reason for me to fly out, don't you think?"

"One more reason?" you echoed, playing with the neckline of your dress, a smile teasing your lips. "I think I’ve given you more than enough."

Ben groaned softly, running a hand through his hair, clearly captivated.

" Y/N, you don’t know what I’d do if I was there right now."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Yeah? What would you do?"

"I’d start with that dress," Ben murmured, his eyes never leaving yours through the screen. "Slowly. You know, just enough to tease. Then—"

The driver cleared his throat, and you bit back a laugh. Ben noticed, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Caught?"

"Almost," you whispered, your pulse quickening as you adjusted in your seat, the thrill of being on the edge of danger sending a shiver down your spine. "You’re getting me into trouble."

"Ben’s gaze softened, though his grin stayed. "Me? You’re the one that looks like that." He paused, his voice low and rough. "God, if I could just be there…"

"Careful," you warned, grinning as you looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "You might lose yourself completely."

Ben’s gaze darkened, and his voice dropped even lower. "Maybe I’m okay with losing it when it comes to you."

You bit your lip, heart racing as you shifted in your seat. The driver’s eyes flicked up to the mirror again, and you quickly glanced away, fighting the blush creeping up your neck. “You’re dangerous, Shelton. Keep talking like that, and I might have to mute you.”

“Go ahead. Mute me,” he dared, his voice thick with challenge. “But I bet you won’t.”

You smiled, a small, teasing hum escaping your lips. “Oh, you think I’m scared?”

“I think you like teasing me as much as I like it.” His voice was gravelly now, every word laced with want.

Your breath caught, eyes wide a bit before you were about to respond when the car pulled up to the hotel. The driver got out quickly, opening the door for you. You stepped out, feeling the cool night air wash over your skin as you walked through the lobby, Ben still watching intently through the screen. You could feel his gaze on you as you made your way to the elevator, the tension between you buzzing like electricity.

Once in your room, you tossed your bag onto the bed and sank down onto the mattress. "Alright," you breathed, "I’m back in my room."

Ben’s voice came through the phone, teasing yet low with interest. "So… how’s that dress treating you?"

You grinned at his not-so-subtle curiosity. "It’s treating me well so far," you teased, running a hand over the fabric. You stood up, positioning yourself in front of the mirror.

Slowly, deliberately, you reached behind you to the zipper. "I’ll give you a little preview."

You lowered it just enough for the strapless dress to reveal a sliver of your smooth back, keeping the front of the dress held firmly in place with your other hand. The exposed skin was just enough to tease.

You turned back slightly, catching his reaction through the screen, his eyes locked on you. "You wanted to see, right?" you whispered, mischief clear in your voice.

Ben let out a breathy laugh, clearly amused. "You really know how to keep a guy on edge."

You shot him a playful look over your shoulder, still holding the dress in place. "It’s all about the suspense. You should know that by now."

Ben's gaze flickered, his tone a bit softer. "You’re making it hard to focus."

With a smirk, you turned to face him, still holding the dress tight. "Goodnight, Shelton."

Before he could say another word, you ended the call, tossing your phone onto the bed, feeling satisfied. You knew he wouldn’t forget that little moment anytime soon.

By the time August had rolled around, the tension between you and Ben was impossible to ignore. Months of teasing, playful banter, and phone calls had built into something electric, something undeniable. Now, you were both in New York for the U.S. Open. The final Slam of the year where you'd cross paths for the year, and maybe the final chance for one of you to make a move.

After winning your third-round match, you made your way through the tunnel, your heart still racing from the adrenaline of your win. The buzz of the crowd still rang in your ears, but as you walked toward the tunnel, you heard familiar voices ahead.

Ben, along with Taylor Fritz and Frances Tiafoe, stood laughing and talking just a few feet ahead. Their voices echoed in the corridor, their banter unmistakable.

“Bro, it’s embarrassing now,” Frances teased. “You’ve gotta ask her out. She’s into you, we all know it.”

Ben groaned, looking exasperated, dragging his hand over his face. “It’s not that easy. I don’t want to screw it up.”

Taylor chuckled. “Screw it up? Dude, she’s been giving you eyes all week. Just make the move.”

Frances nudged him. “It’s not like she’s hiding it either. The way she teases you, she's a green light.”

You smirked, slowing your pace as you approached. They didn’t notice you yet, too absorbed in their teasing.

Ben sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know.”

“They’re right,” you chimed in, finally stepping into view, as you walked by, wiping sweat off your brow, smirking. Their heads snapped toward you, startled. “Take their advice, Benny. It’s 'bout time you did something.”

Ben’s eyes widened as you walked past, your tone light but with an edge of challenge. His friends burst into laughter, both of them slapping Ben on the back, shoving him back and forth.

Frances grinned. “See? Even she's asking you to make a move, man.”

Ben shot him a look, but his gaze lingered on you as you disappeared into the locker room.

Later, after a shower and a change of clothes, you made your way back into the lounge, feeling refreshed but still riding the high of the match. You didn’t expect to run into Ben waiting for you, leaning casually against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

You raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk tugging at your lips. “Stalking me now?”

He pushed off the wall, taking a step toward you, his expression shifting from playful to serious. “No, what-uh, but I... I wanted to catch you before you left.”

“Oh?” You crossed your arms, looking up at him. “What’s up?”

Ben took a breath, looking almost nervous. “About what you said earlier... maybe they’re right. Maybe I have been holding back.”

You cocked your head, feeling your heart quicken at his sudden change in tone. “And?”

“And I think I’m done waiting,” he said, his eyes locking with yours. “Would you want to go out with me? Just us. Dinner, maybe?”

For a moment, the world seemed to be still. Ben, usually so confident and playful, stood before you with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart.

You let the moment hang, letting him sweat just a little before your lips curled into a teasing smile. “About time you asked, Ben.”

His tense shoulders dropped, a grin spreading across his face. “So, is that a yes?”

You let out a small giggle, your voice soft but playful. “Yeah, it’s a yes. Better come like a gentleman though.”

That night, you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the sweet, soft dress you’d picked out. It was a pale pink dress, fitted at the top with a flowing skirt that flattered your figure perfectly. The neckline was delicate, with thin straps that accentuated your shoulders, and the soft fabric wrapped your waist before cascading down to just above your knees. The dress was sweet and soft, but still undeniably you—playful with a touch of elegance.

You headed down to the hotel lobby, taking a seat as you crossed one leg over the other, checking your socials. At 7pm on the dot, Ben walks in, running a hand through his curls before he sets eyes on you.

Ben stood there in a crisp white button-down shirt, the sleeves slightly rolled up to reveal his strong forearms, accentuating his strong shoulders, paired with dark, well-tailored pants. His curls were just tousled enough to seem like he hadn’t spent hours fixing it, but of course, he had. He looked handsome—maybe even a little nervous.

“You look stunning,” he said, his voice low as his eyes took you in.

You smiled, a soft blush warming your cheeks, as you stood up. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He offered you his arm, and you linked yours through his, your fingers brushing over the firm muscles of his bicep as you stepped out into the lobby. There was a quiet buzz between you, the usual playfulness replaced with something softer, more tender.

As you walked to the car, Ben opened the passenger door for you, giving you a gentle smile as you slipped inside. Before he could close the door, you leaned over, reaching for the driver’s side door and popping it open for him.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he got in. “You always keep me on my toes, don’t you?”

You grinned, sitting back in your seat, and pulling your seatbelt over. “Always.”

The ride to the restaurant was comfortable, a soft hum playing through the speakers, "Love is Only a Feeling" by Joey BadA$$, making you smile a bit at his subtle but purposeful details. As the city lights flickered by outside, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. Every so often, your hand would brush against his on the center console until finally, you slipped your fingers into his, holding his hand gently as he drove.

Ben glanced at you, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “You seem... different tonight,” he said, his voice soft, almost as if he were trying to figure out the shift in your usual dynamic.

You smiled as you gazed at him. “Different how?”

He hesitated, his grip on your hand tightening just a little. “I don’t know. Less playful. More...”

“Serious?” you finished for him.

He nodded, giving you a small, sheepish grin. “Yeah. I like it, though.”

You let out a soft laugh, leaning your head against the seat. “It’s just nice to finally be doing this.”

When you arrived at the restaurant, a small, candlelit Italian place tucked away in the quieter part of the city, Ben quickly got out and hurried around to open your door again. This time, when you stepped out, you smiled up at him, letting him take your hand. Before you could fully stand, he bent down, bringing your hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Your heart fluttered at the gesture, the sweetness of it catching you off guard. “Such a gentleman,” you teased, though your voice was softer than usual.

Ben smirked, though there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “I’m trying.”

Inside, the restaurant was intimate, with small tables with flickering candles, and soft jazz music playing in the background. Ben led you to a corner table, pulling out your chair before taking his seat across from you. The low hum of other diners provided a cozy backdrop as the two of you settled in.

As you both browsed the menu, you found yourself resting your chin in your hand, watching Ben with a soft smile. He glanced up and caught you staring, a blush creeping up his neck. “What?” he asked, his voice a little breathless.

“Nothing,” you said, your lips curling into a grin. “Just... enjoying this.”

Ben reached across the table, his hand finding yours again. “Me too.”

Dinner was perfect. The pasta was rich, the wine smooth, but what made the evening unforgettable was how easy everything felt between you. Conversation flowed naturally, deeper than it ever had before. You talked about travel plans and places you both dreamed of visiting and shared stories about family traditions—like how your grandmother used to insist on making a very experimental desserts during the holidays, no matter how disastrous it turned out every year.

At one point, you glanced out the window, taking in the soft glow of the city lights before turning back to Ben. “What about you? If you could be anywhere right now… where would it be?”

Ben didn’t hesitate, his eyes locked on yours. “Honestly? Right here. With you.”

You felt warmth rise to your cheeks, your heart skipping at the simplicity of his words. He wasn’t trying to impress you, just telling the truth, and somehow, that made it even more meaningful. You reached across the table again, slipping your hand into his. His fingers intertwined with yours, the gesture now familiar, yet it sent a shiver through you all the same.

“I’m glad you asked me to dinner,” you said quietly, the weight of the night settling around you both.

Ben smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “I’m glad you said yes.”

As the night wound down, Ben drove you back to the hotel. The city outside passed by in a blur of lights, but inside the car, everything felt still and comfortable. You held his hand the entire way, feeling the warmth and quiet reassurance of his touch.

When the car pulled up to your hotel, Ben quickly got out, making his way to your side to open the door. You stepped out, and this time, you didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, you turned to him, standing close in the cool night air.

“Thank you for tonight,” you whispered softly, looking up through your lashes.

Ben’s smile was gentle, his eyes warm as they met yours. “Anytime. Thank you for being here, with me.”

Your eyes crinkled as you smiled before you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek that lingered for a moment. His skin was warm, and you felt him inhale sharply at the unexpected touch. When you pulled back, your heart was racing, but you smiled up at him, feeling the lingering heat between you.

“Goodnight, Ben,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze lingered on you, and though he smiled, there was a quiet intensity in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go, making your way into the hotel with a soft smile on your lips. You glanced back one last time to see him leaning against his car, a playful wave and your lipstick still visible on his cheek. For once, you weren’t in full control, but somehow, that felt right.

In a world dominated by meticulous moves, it was these quiet moments that grounded you. Now, with someone like Ben by your side, every win, every loss, and every day on the court held more meaning.

Sometimes, the most important victories happened off the court.

[wonderlandwalker]

Cherished Moments | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick is trying to get you to relax and, well, it works maybe a bit too much.

Content Warnings/Tags: Mostly fluff, small injury, lovesick Finnick, grumpy!reader x sunshine!Finnick, insinuations of violence, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.2k

Requested by Anon: I love your writing!!! What do you think a grumpy reader × sunshine finnick would be like? Love the back cat gf golden retriever bf trope haha and I feel like finnick would be obsessed with someone who was mean to everyone BUT him! Feel free to ignore if you don't feel inspired, I'll read everything you write anyway!!

A/N: Can someone pls let me know if they actually manage to find the request after I've posted them I have no clue if these are getting through. Ngl this one was a struggle for me but once I found the right idea it came pouring out. Do they even have darts in the Hunger Games universe? Well, they do now. Keep sending me requests I genuinely love doing them!!

“Come on, I know you can do it! I’ve seen you throw knives, this is pretty much the same thing, only smaller.” Finnick was trying to encourage you, but you weren’t easy to win over. 

“I’m telling you, I can’t. This is just different. The darts are so much smaller and lighter, it throws me off balance.” You were at a party in District 13, well, calling it a party would be generous. 

“Just try. I’ll help you come on. I promise it’ll be fun.” He couldn't hide his smile at your antics, but he also knew if anyone was able to convince you, it was him.

“Fine, but if something goes wrong it's on you.” You looked him in the eyes, and could see a spark of light inside them, and you wouldn't admit it, not with all the other people in the room, but it warmed your heart a little.

“It’ll be fine, what’s the worst that could happen” He asked you, and you almost scoffed at the question.

“I could hit someone, and then everyone will hate me even more than they already do”

“They don't hate you, they just don't know you the way I do.” Whenever someone would ask him what he saw in you, he would always be dumbfounded. Sure, you had a hard exterior, but when someone has gone through as much in their life as you did, were you really to blame? No, he didn't understand the question, because, to him, you were perfect. Whether you were sulking at breakfast for having to leave the bed or smiling at him because they were serving your favourite dish for dinner, he would take anything you gave him. 

“Are you telling me that you, the victor of the 70th Hunger Games, are afraid of hurting someone with a tiny dart?” He was challenging you, and it was working.

“I'm not afraid, I just don't want anything to go wrong.” The way your voice softened around him made his heart beat faster for you and sometimes, he swore you knew and were doing it on purpose.

“You won’t, just throw it straight into the board.”

Finnick is standing behind you, grinning like he’s just won some sort of lottery while he guides your arm up for you, you can feel his breath on your neck before he whispers “Come on love, do it for me.” You’ve never been able to deny him, to your own annoyance at times, so you do as he says.

The dart flies through the air, and it doesn't hit the board, but it comes relatively close. So you throw a second dart and it hits the board, but you don’t manage to score any points just yet. As you throw another one, it manages to hit the board, but only for a little while before it falls to the floor. You throw your hands up in defeat before saying “See, told you I couldn't do it.” But Finnick hasn't given up, in you, he would never give up.

“That’s nonsense, you just have to try again, be patient.” He walks over to collect your darts and hands them back to you. He steps behind you again, guiding you into the right position before speaking.

“Just close your eyes, imagine you’re throwing them at Snow.” It makes you laugh and he can feel your muscles relax. He would always feel so proud of himself when he made you laugh, he didn't mind that you don't do it often, it would only feel like so much more of an achievement.

You do as he says, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath right before you throw the dart, hitting it right in the bullseye. You throw another, hitting the bullseye again. But you miss the board with the next one when Finnick leaves a small kiss on your shoulder, and your breath hitches. You can feel his body moving from behind you, and focus to throw another dart. It’s only when you hear an exclamation of pain coming from right in front of you that you snap open your eyes, you would recognize it anywhere. In front of you was Finnick, standing right next to the board with one of his hands clutched in the other, and when you take a closer look, you can see the dart that is stuck in the back of Finnick's hand.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry are you okay.” He would never tell you this, but he doesn't even mind that it happened, seeing you being sweet on him so openly, it makes him forget anything even happened in the first place.

“I'm fine sweetheart.” there is a strain in his voice, and he knows you can hear it too from the way your brows furrow in regret. You knew he wasn't trying to be tough for you, no, you had moved past that years ago. he was trying to not make you worry, it was something he would always do no matter how much pain he was in. But you were worried, because in contrast to all those other times, this time it was your fault that he was hurt. It never phased you much when someone would get shot, it never phased you much as you heard the canons each night in the arena signalling another death, not in the way it phased other people, but this, this broke you.

“Finnick you are not fine, there is a fucking dart inside your hand and it's my fault.”

“Well, most people don’t throw a fourth dart sweetheart." He says, and he chuckles a little, but you don't hear it in your state of worry.

“I am so sorry I-” You were choking up over your guilt, and while he loved getting to see your raw emotions, this one he didn't enjoy.

“Hey, no, I'm sorry too, don't get yourself worked up over this. It's just a dart, I will be fine. Why don’t you go get me a first aid kit?” He really was fine, and he could have gotten it himself, but he knew how much you would get in your own head when you didn't have anything to do in these kinds of situations. 

Once you come back and help patch him up, he looks up at you and you catch his gaze. A smile crosses his face in a way he knows his cheeks are going to hurt.

“Why are you smiling” you ask, confused at his glee in a situation like this.

“Because I know you care about me. You don’t always show it, and you don’t have to, because moments like these I’ll cherish forever.” His eyes are sparkling as he looks into yours, he swears he could just stand here and look at you for the rest of his life. 

“Oh, would you shut up already” you tell him while swatting his hand away from your face and rolling your eyes.

“You can’t tell me to shut up, you threw a dart into my hand.” He’s still grinning like an idiot, and it's infecting you. One of the corners of your mouth lifts up, and it's subtle, but he catches it, how could he not with how intently he is watching you. You’re back to your old dynamic, but he loves it just as much.

[kurokawaia]

❛ UM, WHAT? ❜

Yandere! Illumi Zoldyck X Fem!Reader

| YANDERE CONTENT |

WC; 1.5k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: in the pre timeskip, i imagine it to be younger illumi there (so when he's around 18-19 and has the short hair), reader is aslo 17-18 before the timeskip. after the timeskip illumi is 26 and you are 25, stalking!!! death

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Could you pls write yandere illumi who has been stalking reader for years now, he finally decides to make his move, bumps into you, casually invites you for a date. But as you start talking to him, he's so in love and obsessed he lets creepy things slip during casual conversation eg. Reader: yeah I go to dance classes, though recently I haven't been enjoying them as much because our teacher keeps complaing about his life problems! Can you believe it! And Illumi replies "Yes, that idiot should've left his cheating wife months ago haha" and Reader's like, how did you know that *sweats* Anyway just creepy illumi pls:3 - ANON

m.list | hxh m.list

You were just a high school student when you first noticed him, but only just briefly.

It was one of those ordinary days, but if only you had paid more attention to how this man looked, maybe your life would have turned out different. The man you noticed had quite noticeable features: tall, solemn, a young man who watched you across the street with a curious expression you quickly ignored.

He was dressed in a simple jacket and slack pants, though, his eyes were pericing into your back. You were scared, more or less, the way he was observing you.

With just a headshake, you pretty much forgot the man in your mind, manipulating yourself that he isn't looking at me.

Illumi took an interest in you, for what reason, he did not know. You were just some average girl, not an assassin, and more than likely didn't even know how to use Nen. But you caught his eye.

Your simple life and usual happenings were so different to his own so much that his curiosity was piqued. You looked so innocent that he wanted to taint you to something darker. 

It wasn't very long before curiosity did turn darker and into something more obsessive. 

He started following you more often, always remaining out of your field of sight, and never once approaching you directly. He learned your schedule, your favorite spots, and your friends. He watched over one like a ghost through every mundane task, every joyful moment, and every sorrowful sigh.

Years passed, and that addiction only grew bigger and bigger. The feel of watching you, the satisfaction of knowing everything that happened in your life, made him feel good.

You were his secret obsession, his hidden treasure that no one else could touch.

Then, it happened. You walked down that street, busy with your thoughts, when he decided the time was right. Casually, as if he had suddenly bumped into you, he came towards you. His heart racing from the thrill not of the encounter but of just revealing himself a little.

"Pardon me," he said, his tone silky. You looked up with a jerk since his sudden appearance had startled you. There was something unsettling in the way that he stared at you, yet it was cloaked by a polite smile. "I couldn't help but notice you. We've crossed paths before, haven't we?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you made yourself smile. "I don't think so," you said, trying to keep the subject light.

You had this feeling that you had met this man before but couldn't place with who he was and where you had seen him.

"Perhaps not," he replied lightly, shrugging. "I guess I was mistaken. My name is Illumi. I'd like to get to know you better. Would you be interested in going out sometime?"

"Um, sure," you said hesitantly, unable to shake off the feeling that something was deeply wrong but unable to refuse the polite request. "When would you like to. go out?"

"Would now be okay?" he asks with a tilt of his head, his height was towering over you, you noticed.

"Um, sure," you replied, unable to say no.

You both set off toward a small café in town. You arrived a few minutes early, trying to rid yourself of that strange feeling from earlier. Illumi showed up a little afterwards, his presence still had that air of dread hanging about him which made you uncomfortable, but his smile was warm and inviting.

As you guys settled into your corner booth, you tried to focus on the pleasant atmosphere. Illumi made small talk, his voice smooth and nice. You found yourself slowly opening up, talking about your daily life.

"So, what have you been up to lately?" Illumi asked, never his eyes leaving your face.

Not that he knew of, anyway.

"Well, I've been going to dance classes," you said.

He already knew that.

"Though lately, I haven't really been enjoying them as much. Our teacher just keeps bitching about all his life problems. Can you believe it?"

Illumi's eyes gleamed, "Yes, that idiot really ought to have left his cheating wife months ago. It's pathetic how he drags his personal drama into his classes. Haha."

You felt your heart skip a beat and you froze in shock from his response. "How-how did you know about that?" you stuttered. "I've never told anyone."

Illumi's smile picked up. "Oh, I have my ways," he said smoothly. "I pay attention to the details, you know. It's just a shame he's so miserable. I suppose that's why he hasn't been able to focus on teaching properly."

You tried to compose yourself, forcing a nervous laugh. "Well, I guess you're right. It's just frustrating sometimes."

Illumi nodded, still with that unnerving stare. "I understand. Must be hard on you, dealing with his problems besides your own. I'm sure you are doing your best."

You tried to smile, though the unease in your chest was growing. "Thanks. I guess it just feels like everything's piling up lately."

Illumi's eyes flashed, nay flared, with an eerie serious intent. "Is there anything else bothering you? Perhaps something outside of dance class?"

You felt a little cornered by the intensity of his gaze and hesitated before continuing, "Well, there's this guy at work who's been bothering me. He keeps making these inappropriate comments, trying to corner me whenever I'm alone. It's really unsettling."

Illumi's face clouded for a moment, his frown deepening as he registered your words. "I see," he said slowly. "I didn't realize this. nuisance," he grumbled to himself, cursing himself on how he could have missed something like that in your daily life.

He thought you didn't hear what he said, but you did. A chill ran down your spine at the way he said it.

You hastily tried to change the subject with the urge to get away from the intensity in his gaze. "But enough about that. I'm glad we could meet today. It has been nice talking to you."

Illumi's smile picked up once more, but didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yes, it has been. I enjoyed our time together."

You got to your feet, collecting your things and moving to leave. Illumi followed suit, escorting you to the door of the café. Outside, both of you stepped into the cool evening air, you noticed him freeze for a moment, his eyes set on something far off.

Almost as if he was gauging what move to take next.

"Well, it's time to say goodbye for now, I suppose," you said, forcing cheerfulness into your voice.

Illumi smiled reassuringly but there was something beneath that made you scared. "Indeed. I look forward to the next time we meet."

And so you went off in opposite directions, you homeward. You had walked a way when you couldn't rid the feeling that Illumi had looked at you just one beat longer than he needed to.

Later that night, Illumi sat with reflections upon his mind, bothered by the new information about the man that's been bothering you. How could he have missed this-one nuisance? 

He prides himself on how well he watches over you and has always been fully aware of your every move.

This guy slipped under his watchful eye, and that irked him.

Illumi's face darkened as he made his way to the place where you worked. He found the man who had been harassing you. Getting ready to leave for the night, the man didn't notice Illumi approach him.

The man was turning around, startled by the sudden appearance of the tall stranger. Before he could even utter another word, Illumi's hand had closed tightly around his throat. His eyes widened into a fearful expression as Illumi's voice, in low tone.

"You have caused my precious one unnecessary distress," Illumi said softly, his tone chilling. "For which you shall pay the price."

Illumi made sure the man would never utter another word ever again, his movements calculated and cold. 

The threat to you was gone, and your world would never be disrupted by anyone else other than him. 

No one was ever to come between him and the object of his obsession.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

[its-avalon-08]

omg that other anon is right, would you pls consider writing something about lando’s talk with emma?

you asked, i wrote and i hope you enjoy!

BONUS SCENE FOR - show me you love me (ln4)

Lando took a deep breath before knocking on Emma’s door. He knew what he had to do, but that didn’t make it any easier. The events of the past few weeks had opened his eyes, and he couldn’t ignore the impact his friendship with Emma had on Y/N anymore. He had to make things right, and that meant having this difficult conversation.

Emma opened the door, a bright smile on her face. “Lando! What a surprise! Come in, come in.”

He stepped inside, the tension in his shoulders evident. “Hey, Emma. We need to talk.”

Emma’s smile faltered slightly, but she led him to the living room. “Sure, what’s up?”

Lando took a seat, his expression serious. “Emma, this isn’t easy for me to say, but I need to end our friendship.”

Emma’s eyes widened in shock. “What? Why?”

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s about Y/N. Our closeness has been hurting her more than I realized, and I can’t let that continue.”

Emma rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “Oh, come on, Lando. Y/N’s just being dramatic. She needs to grow up.”

Lando’s jaw tightened. “No, Emma, she’s not. I’ve seen how much pain she’s been in because of us, because of me. I’ve been blind to it, but not anymore. I love her, and I can’t keep hurting her.”

Emma scoffed, leaning back on the couch. “So, you’re just going to throw away our friendship because she’s insecure? That’s pathetic.”

Lando’s eyes flashed with anger. “Emma, this isn’t just about her being insecure. You knew how she felt, and you kept pushing the boundaries anyway. You knew what you were doing.”

Emma’s smirk faded, and her eyes narrowed. “Oh, please. Don’t blame this on me. You were just as involved as I was. If you cared so much about her, you wouldn’t have let it get this far.”

Lando shook his head, frustration boiling over. “I take full responsibility for my actions, and I’m ashamed of how I’ve hurt Y/N. But you’ve been fucking manipulative, Emma. You enjoyed seeing her upset.”

Emma’s expression turned cold. “Maybe I did. But that’s not my problem. It’s yours.”

Lando stood up, his fists clenched at his sides. “Well, it is my problem, and I’m fixing it. I can’t be friends with someone who takes pleasure in someone else’s pain. This ends now, Emma. Y/N is my whole world. Knowing that I caused her such pain is just- it's the fucking worst.”

Emma stood up too, glaring at him. “Fine, Lando. If you want to be whipped by your insecure girlfriend, go ahead. But don’t come crawling back when you realize how pathetic you’re being.”

Lando took a deep breath, feeling a surge of determination. "Emma, this isn't just about Y/N's insecurities. It's about respect. You've crossed lines that shouldn't have been crossed, and it's hurt someone I love deeply."

Emma's eyes flashed with irritation. "Oh, come on, Lando. Y/N needs to toughen up. We're just friends. She needs to get over it. She can't act like a goddamn child."

Lando shook his head, his voice firm. "No, Emma. You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew how much it bothered Y/N and you did it anyway. That's not something a real friend would do."

Emma laughed bitterly. "So, you're really choosing her over our friendship? After all these years?"

"Yes, I am," Lando replied, his tone unwavering. "Because I've seen the pain in her eyes. I've seen the tears. I've seen how much she's struggled, and I can't ignore that. She means everything to me, and I won't let anyone come between us."

Emma's expression hardened. "You're making a big mistake, Lando. You’re going to regret this."

Lando stepped closer, his eyes blazing with conviction. "The only mistake I made was not seeing this sooner. Not standing up for Y/N sooner. She deserves someone who puts her first, and that's what I'm going to do. So, this is goodbye, Emma. I hope you can find it in yourself to understand one day, but right now, my priority is Y/N."

Emma's smirk turned into a sneer. "Fine, Lando. Run back to your little girlfriend. But you'll come back."

Lando nodded, his voice calm but resolute. "I won't. Bye Emma."

He turned and walked out of her apartment, closing the door firmly behind him. As he walked down the hallway, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. It was an end to a long-time friendship, but he knew it was necessary. His love for Y/N was worth any sacrifice, and he was determined to show her that she was his priority.

He knew they had a long road ahead of them, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like they were on the right path. He couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms and reassure her that she was the most important person in his life. And he would spend every day proving it to her, starting now.

[castiwls]

the prophecy - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'please change the prophecy'

Requested;anon? (i can't see the req in my inbox so if it was you and you didn't req on anon pls lmk)

Notes;so sorry this took so long <3 p.s reqs and inbox are open again :)

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Love had always been a complicated thing. It seemed to come easy enough yet slip away even easier. Sam knew falling for you could be a fatal mistake for both him and you, yet he did it anyway.

He ignored that voice in the back of his head which picked and picked at him about how asking you out would only end in heartache. How being around him put you in danger, how simply knowing his name placed you in danger.

The voice continued to nag at him every waking moment. It reminded him constantly that every day could be your last, that when you met your end it would be his fault.

“Sam.” A hand on his chest pulled his attention from his thoughts. Your smile was bright as you lay on your side gazing at him. Pushing yourself up you lent your head on your hand. “What’s wrong?” 

He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Nothing. Just can’t sleep.” He spoke quietly. You hummed quietly looking at the wall for a moment. “Really?” You looked back to him moving now to sit up fully, crossing your legs under you.

You knew him too well. Taking one look at him was enough for you to know that something was up. That the voice inside his head was winning again. 

“I’m fine. Seriously.” He sent you a weak smile reaching out to place a hand on your thigh. 

“No. No your not.” You shook your head. 

He let out a quiet sigh before moving to sit up against the headboard. He would never admit to you how he really felt. Admitting it would only make it real and he was determined to prove those thoughts wrong.

He was determined to keep you safe. To break the pattern.

He opened his arms reaching out for you. Taking the hint you moved into his arms, falling back against his chest your legs tangling with his. “I’m not gonna die.” You whispered after a moment.

Your words caused his breath to catch in his throat. His arms which were wrapped around your middle instinctively squeezed you closer. “Don’t say that.” He mumbled pressing his face into your hair. 

Ice-cold fear ran through him as he tried to calm his breathing. People had said that to him before. Most of those people ended up dead.

Sam had never asked for much in his life. Food, a warm place to sleep, all the normal things anyone wanted. His wishes had always included someone who could give him that love and affection he craved so desperately and now he had that the thought of losing it left him frightened in a way he’d never been.

“I mean it. I’m not going anywhere.” You turned your head slightly, moving your arm back to gently cup his face. “Promise me…promise me you’ll stay.” He stared down at you, eyes wide like a child who was afraid of the dark.

Accept it wasn't the dark he was afraid of.

“I promise.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut holding you impossibly closer as you gently stroked his cheek.

Maybe you were right. Maybe you were the exception, you would be the one who stayed. You’d be the one who he managed to keep safe. He knew nothing was for certain, no one could tell the future.