#he's left a note saying that he's kinda frustrated at me that i only let him front when i need something.....

[fiastomatocheek]

WHERE IT HURTS ME THE MOST

requested: yes | req: okay so my idea is reader and will are arguing and she's got a short temper and so will is kinda dialing in on insults related to that. and i guess to make this make sense, she had a past boyfriend that didn't treat her the best so her anger is a coping mechanism and a safety net for herself so she doesn't get hurt again but he's never seen her cry at all (about that situation or anything else) in the time they've been dating. and they're just going back and forth and back and forth and finally will says something like ‘well i get why your ex left because you're so stubborn and angry all the time. if you got your anger under control maybe some good things would happen to you’ and it just breaks her. like she stops fighting and when she goes to leave, will sees the tears welling in her eyes and he knows immediately that he fucked up. and she isolates herself and no one hears from her for days until finally will finds her at her apartment and he apologizes or something like that? please and thank you!

pair: will smith x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, romance.

warnings: past emotional abuse, toxic ex mentioned, yelling/argument, emotional breakdown, isolation, hurtful dialogue, emotional vulnerability, but ends with comfort and healing.

summary: you only asked will for one thing is that to check in after practice. it wasn’t a demand. just a simple gesture. but when a small concern turns into a spiraling argument, will crosses a line he never should’ve touched. and the moment he sees you cry for the first time, he realizes exactly how much damage he’s done.

fia’s note: never been in a toxic relationship before *praying this kind of love never finds me* so i’m not really sure what else to add, but i hope you enjoy it anywayyy. love you all lots!! my fav little 🍅s. alsooo i’d love if some of you could recommend me a few will smith angst fics to read, i’m in the mood to suffer a little. and i’m currently open to dad!luke hughes requests too!! he doesn’t get nearly enough dad delulu content on here and i desperately need it.

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @kell9rs @nokiaholland

fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | fic discussion

“Hey,”

Will greeted casually, wiping his damp forehead with the edge of his shirt after tossing his gear bag down by the entryway.

“Hi,” you replied flatly.

He paused, glancing at you. “Everything… okay?”

“I don’t know. Did something happen after practice? You usually text.”

He looked up from unlacing his shoes.

“Yeah, sorry. Coach kept us longer than usual.”

You leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

“You still could’ve sent a text. Just… anything.”

He let out a breath, already heading toward the kitchen.

“Babe, I was busy. And you know I don’t take my phone on the ice.”

“I know,” you said quietly.

“But it’s not about the rink. It’s about after. You had it once practice ended. You just didn’t use it.”

“You’re mad?”

“I’m not mad,”

You said, eventhough the frustration in your tone told a different story.

“I just… it would’ve taken two seconds to text ‘I’m okay’. That’s all I needed.”

Will tossed his hoodie over the back of the chair.

“I was exhausted. I didn’t think you’d be this upset about it.”

“That’s the problem,” you snapped.

“You didn’t think. About me. About how I sit here wondering if something happened. If you got hurt. I know it sounds stupid, but it matters to me.”

“It’s not stupid,”

He said quickly, but the way he rubbed his temples suggested he didn’t quite mean it.

“It’s just… I don’t get why it’s always a big thing.”

“It’s not always a big thing,” you said, voice rising.

“You just make me feel like I’m asking for too much everytime I express something that bothers me.”

“Because you come at me like I’ve already failed.”

You stared at him. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you actually listened when I talk.”

Will’s jaw clenched. “I do listen, I do. But you’re always so angry. Every conversation turns into a fight.”

And just like that, your anger cut deeper than he probably intended.

You turned away, trying to collect yourself.

But Will didn’t stop.

“It’s like you’re constantly looking for something to go wrong. I come home and you’re already on edge, like you’re bracing for a war that hasn’t even started.”

“Maybe because I am bracing,”

You snapped, spinning back toward him.

“You don’t know what it’s like to live in a state of defense. To have someone chip away at you every fucking day until the only thing left is armor.”

Will’s expression now is confused, overwhelmed, cornered.

“I’m not your ex, babe.”

“I never said you were. But sometimes you make me feel like I have to prepare for the worst. Like if I don’t say something now, I’ll end up swallowed by silence, again.”

He scoffed. “You can’t compare me to him everytime you’re upset.”

“I’m not! I’m just trying to explain why I am the way I am!”

“Then maybe work on changing it.”

Your stomach dropped.

“What?”

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, frustration bleeding through,

“You always expect me to cater to your triggers, your past, your baggage but when do you take responsibility for how you react?”

“I am taking responsibility,” you said.

“I’m telling you what I need so we don’t spiral like this. And you’re acting like I’m attacking you.”

Will stepped back, tone turning cold.

“You know what? Fine. Be angry. Be stubborn. That’s all you ever do anyway.”

You flinched.

And then he said it. The most hurtful things you’ve ever heard.

“Well, I get why your ex left. Because you’re so stubborn and angry all the time. If you got your anger under control, maybe some good things would happen to you.”

A breath. A heart broken.

All of the pain hit all at once, your body stilled, your face blanked. Your eyes went glassy, your fists clenched at your sides.

Will’s face dropped as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Wait no, I didn’t mean that, I—”

But it was too late.

Your voice cracked as you whispered,

“You were supposed to be different.”

You turned, grabbed your keys, and… left.

It’s had been three days eversince that day you left his apartment, eversince the you hadn’t answered a single message.

Not the texts. Not the voicemails. Not even the flowers he sent that sat untouched outside your apartment door.

Will was unraveling, everytime he closed his eyes, he saw the way your face shattered, how your mouth opened in shock, but no words came, your eyes filled with tears those tears you never let him see before you slipped out the door without another word.

Now, soaked from the rain, he used the spare key you gave him months ago, stepping into your apartment with a heart heavy enough to drown him this time.

You were there.

When you looked up and saw him, you didn’t move.

“Please…”

He said quietly, shutting the door behind him.

“Just… let me say this.”

You looked so tired. So hollow.

Will knelt beside the couch, water dripping from his head onto the floor.

“I know… I know I said the one thing I should’ve never said. But I need you to understand… I wasn’t angry at you. I was scared. Scared I was failing you. And instead of being patient, I chose to be cruel.”

Your eyes flicked toward him, lips trembling.

“You’ve told me what your anger protects. I should’ve respected that. I should’ve seen that what I call ‘yelling’ is really just the sound of you trying not to drown.”

He hesitated, then reached for your hand so gentle, barely a brush.

“I love you. Not in the convenient way. Not just when things are easy. I love you when you’re quiet, soft. But I also love you when you’re loud and afraid. I love you when you’re angry because I know that anger comes from pain you never deserved.”

Will moved slowly, sitting beside you, careful not to push too far.

“You don’t have to protect yourself from me. Not with words. Not with walls. I’m not going anywhere. No matter how loud it gets. No matter how hard it feels. I’m yours. Even when it’s not easy.”

“You are not too much. You were just never given the right space to be everything you are.”

Silence.

“And I want to be that space.”

You looked at him, crumpled and broken, and you believed him, your body leaned forward. Your hand reached for his. And when you finally pulled him into you, burying your face in his shoulder, he held you like the home he promised to be.

“I don’t need you to be okay all the time,”

Will added, voice shaking a little now.

“I just need you. However you are. However you come.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair.

“I’m so sorry.”

[coastal-mangos-one]

THANK YOU i am on vol 13 trimax rn so i cant say anything for the ending

but as i was reading it i was surprised that trimax managed to bypass my "ugh a DID system where one is a crazed killer" ick bc.... razlo isn't uniquely violent. we have seen so many singlets in the series before LR even comes on and have come to understand that this world is full of violent people, each with their own unique justifications for violence. razlo even loses fights against them sometimes. i like that razlo has a personality, that he has frustrations with livio ("it's not just your body") and that livio acknowledges razlo as a whole person ("i'm sorry i only let you front for the traumatic stuff so i wouldnt have to deal with it").... resonates a lot with me and my alter. but also the theme of you are not alone and we gotta take care of each other (which trimax puts into the whole story anyway). i was worried a bit when Livio decided he was gonna front for a while bc i though the solution the book gave us was just that Razlo was a problem and the solution was for him to never come out again but when razlo returned like "you idiot!!! stop trying to do everything yourself!!" i was very very happy

also the fact that the cast seamlessly accepts that LR are two people? i've seen a lot of DID rep where it's just "ah. here is one crazy guy with multiple personalities" but everyone just seems to acknowledge the personhood of each and it's refreshing to see. even people who don't know they're a system are suddenly like "wait. you're acting differently. who are you now?" without having to be explained what's going on

anyway i watched tristamp before reading trimax. didn't realize livio was supposed to be part of a system. thought the eye glowing thing was a part of the horrible experiments and he got turned into a murder cyborg or something. when watching him i just got the impression "oh here's a crazy guy character who's violent and unstable. great." didn't like that he shot himself in the head. they didnt give me much to hold on to in regards to getting invested in him as a person/character, feels like they made an attempt by saying "look! he was a child once! and ww liked him :)" and that's just, not enough for me. we never really got to understand who this guy was at all.

I feel like trigun maximum just hit that perfect sweet spot of bad DID representation done right. like yes the classic small system, blackout split, with one of them being the stereotypical crazy murderer but there's more to trimax before and after their introduction thats so important. they took all of the DID villain movie tropes, put them in a dying word + a murder cult, and shouted the same thing they've been shouting at everyone for the past 80 chapters: THEY'RE STILL HUMAN, THEY DESERVE A FUTURE!! the same volume they introduce him in is the same volume they get thrown on their redemption arc, because it wasn't DID that was his problem it was their abuser and the thing he made them do. trimax just hits you over the head with all the themes with one character and they're well written and well loved in the rest of the series. they get a cowboy hat and they both purse the cowboy way! the main take away wasn't that razlo needs to be put in a cage, it was hey this protector is trying his best, he has his own emotions, be kind to him. it was really refreshing to see in media and I didn't expect it to come from this.

im afraid that trigun stampede is going to miss the mark. not in a sense that I think they're going to change the ending, but how the story is building up is different. we haven't been shown several instances of the average joe having to kill for personal gain to survive on no man's land, so it makes livio and razlo feel like an individual crazed threat looming over the horizon. it also leans into the horror of episode 6 and 7 and ends up having a demonizing way of depicting disassociation. when wolfwood is in the cell pleading for him and livios just standing there with his eye mysteriously glowing, it gives me the ick. not that there can't be a narrative where both livios and wolfwoods feelings are being recognized in a meaningful way, its more that there's too much time given to ruminate in wolfwoods pov, that the audience is going to see them as threatening longer duration. manga readers know whats coming but a majority of viewers do not. [I did absolutely enjoyed wolfwood pulling him out of disassociation with smell the smell of smoke and calmly saying wake up old friend, it melted my heart. I also thought it was funny when livio shot himself but thats just me and a whole other tangent lmao]

do I think this is going to be better when the series is finished and everyone has all of the pieces? yes, absolutely. its just that the years inbetween their redemption undos what made trimaxs good

TLDR: trimax makes you feel like a fucking idiot for even doubting for a chapter that they were going to stray from their core theme of "everyone deserves a future" just because these guys are a DID system with blood on their hands. meanwhile tristamp finds its faults in the time it takes to get livio and razlo to their redemption arcs because it paints them to be a looming threat more than 2 dudes in a lot of pain.

other systems in the trigun fandom please tell me your thoughts + we should be friends

[sweetshuga]

Keep it on ✰ MS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

fwb!matt! Your friend (with benefits) bought a new pair of glasses, a sight for sore eyes—and an even sorer aftermath.

Warnings! Smut!, obscene descriptions!, petname (pretty), p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this irl, this is just fiction, protect yourselves hoes<3), friends with benefits, size kink (kinda), dunno what more,

wc. 1.1k

note. English is not my first language! [Prologue]

You and Matt had decided on this weird arrangement after accidentally hooking up at a mutual friend’s party, both having drunk a little too much and zero fucks to give—you stumbled into a spare bedroom and woke up entangled in each other’s arms.

The compatibility was so good that the arrangement seemed logical. No strings attached, just feeling the bliss and having a friend to talk to that you knew wouldn’t judge you; almost too good to be true.

He was addictive.

Today was like any other day; with you knocking on his front door, ready to have the "much–needed" relief. As soon as Matt opened the door, you felt your breath hitch, he looked like a vision, the hair, the stubble, the clothes, the glasses– wait the glasses?

You blinked and stood there entranced, making Matt let out a small chuckle of amusement, "you gon’ stand there all day pretty?" You snapped out of your thoughts at his words, suddenly very nervous and fidgety, "yeah– no, uh... pardon my intrusion," your words came out more like a mumble as you slipped in through the door, your nervousness evident.

You cleared your throat and looked around briefly, "Nick and Chris aren’t home?" You asked, trying to distract yourself.

"Yeah, they were talking about going somewhere today, I’ve been alone all day, it’s a good thing you came, I was getting bored out of my mind," he chuckled as he saw the small fidgeting you were doing with the hem of your shirt, "you nervous or sum’?" Your eyes widened briefly, "whaaat? Me nervous? M’never nervous around you," you downplayed, laughing, but the slight quiver in your voice gave you away.

Matt chuckled again, "right, definitely not nervous, not at all," he said with playful sarcasm.

You couldn’t help a chuckle at his teasing words, even if it was at your expense. "You’re wearing glasses." You stated the obvious. "Yeah, does it look weird?" He asked, grinning while fixing his glasses, "no, not weird," you clarified, "it’s just that I’ve never seen you in glasses before, but I have to say, ’s not a bad look on you," smiling as you gave him a teasing nudge on his arm.

Matt smiled back at you, and took your hand, already leading you to his room. "Well, since my brothers aren’t home, might as well use it to our advantage, no?" You let out a small laugh, "yeah, not like we don’t use any moment of solitude to our advantage," you said as you let yourself practically get dragged into his room.

𓆩♡𓆪

After making out and having a slow sensual foreplay, you had become a needy mess. Your insides craved to be filled by him—the glasses perched on his nose didn’t help your ache, only worsened it. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer, eliciting a hum of approval from Matt. He broke the kiss, leaning forward to get a condom out of the bedside drawer.

"Hold on pretty, lemme put on-" you stopped his hands from ripping the condom, "do it raw today, I wanna feel you." A soft groan left his lips as he threw the condom somewhere on the bed, "you’re gonna kill me someday, woman," he breathed out, lining himself at your entrance, prodding but not pushing inside. You bit the side of your bottom lip, rolling your hips as you tried to push him in yourself.

"Matt... c’mon." You whined in frustration, the ache too much to ignore– or go along with his teasing. "Mm... you want this big dick in you huh? Want me to stretch you— split you open with it?" His voice was strained, letting you know that he was just as affected as you were.

"Please Matt, yeah... Please, I need you so bad... c’mon," you pleaded, your voice laced with desperation and pure need. Your hands trailed down his chest towards his stomach, his muscles tensing under your fingertips as shuddering breaths left his lips. "You’re so pretty when you beg like that," he praised, making you look at him with pleading eyes, silently conveying your need.

"Please, Matt— I need it, I need you," he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. "I know pretty, I know," he murmured against your lips before claiming it in a searing kiss, slowly pushing his thick length in, stretching you deliciously. A soft moan of pure, unadulterated, relief and pleasure fell from your lips. Matt pulled back until only the tip of his dick was inside before slamming his hips flush against yours, bottoming out as he groaned into the crook of your neck.

The sudden feeling of being filled to the brim made your back arch, sharp moans exited through the "O" shape etched on your lips. Your hands clutched desperately at the bedsheets, trying to ground yourself from the intense pleasure as he pounded into you. He snaked one arm under the arch of your back, holding you tightly as his other hand held your hip—with bruising strength.

The subtle hint of pain caused your pleasure to double.

𓆩♡𓆪

Matt groaned in annoyance as his glasses kept slipping down his nose – due to the sweat-slicked skin – his hand on your hip reached for his glasses but you held his forearm, stopping any further movement. Matt’s pace faltered as he looked down at you, confused, "yeah? What’s up pretty? You okay? Am I being too rough-" You chuckled breathlessly at his concerns, "no, no, don’t worry, you’re not being too rough, I just..." You paused.

"You just?" He repeated, panting softly, slowly rolling his hips against yours. A breathy moan fell from your lips, "well, just keep it on alright... you uh... you look good in it, the glasses I mean." You said, still breathless, mumbling an add on, "delicious even," a slow smirk made its way onto his lips, now understanding why you were acting so flustered and fidgety earlier today.

Matt wiped the sweat that had been making his glasses slide, chuckling as he leaned down to your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. "Oh I’m gonna keep it on alright, the whole night even, m’gonna fuck this pretty little pussy so good—ruin you for anyone else," he whispered – a promise – before continuing his pounding, each one making your body rise up the bed.

Your tits bounced with each slam as he held you tightly, not letting you escape the intensity of it all. All you could do was cling to him and scream his name as he took what he wanted—what you wanted. Your nails dug into his back, making him hiss and shut his eyes in slight pain and pleasure, his pace never faltering.

The ecstasy etched on his features, the glasses, the stubble, the hair, the earrings, the chain— a sight for sore eyes indeed– and an even sorer aftermath.

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 1,146

Isa's notes. Yeah... Another smut? I'm so awkward when it comes to writing something like this 🫠 Also, something longer? Gee, I know, but the topic is too good not to write a longer fic to.

༝༚༝༚

© sweetshuga

[6gumi]

breathless.

synopsis ﹒jjk men giving you surprise kisses gone wrong (GONE SEXUAL!) that’s it. that’s the fic

pairings ﹒toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, yuuji itadori, satoru gojo x f!reader

cw ﹒a little suggestive. not proofread (oops), makeout sessions kinda?, yuuji + yuuta aged up! slight vaginal fingering involved, dirty talk, petnames used ! (princess, baby, etc etc) you guys literally just make out n it goes wrong . . . do i need to say more ? <3

note ﹒sm thoughts sm thoughts sm thoughts !!! yuuji’s is the only fluff n innocent one LMFAO feel free 2 interact w me by sending an ask ! i’m still trying 2 finish up my requests so please be patient and know that only thirsts r open for now <3 — millie ! ♡

୨୧ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

toji always loved teasing you, especially during makeout sessions you both would have occasionally. he does a lot and i mean a lot of things to tease you during them too, it’s unfair! he loved it whenever you had your arms crossed infront of him, eyebrows furrowed while you lectured him for his laziness. he merely just chuckled at your attempts to tell him off for being such a lazy jerk, slowly closing the distance between both of you. you can’t blame him, can you? it’s not like you wanted him to stop either.. it’s crazy how your voice and that irritated look in your eyes left him feeling light-headed. before he knew it, toji you in his arms, holding you just a little too tight. “hey! let go of me, toji. ‘m not finished saying what i wanna say—“ and.. there he goes again. a deep groan left him as his lips traced each inch of your neck, his entire body clenched as he grabbed your wrist. toji’s other hand buried itself in your hair, caressing and pulling at it from the back, interlocking his lips with yours..

god.. your makeout sessions always begin this way, but honestly you didn’t really complain. toji ran his hand up your body, wrapping it around your neck as she squeezed it lightly.. careful not to hurt you too much. his lips on yours was the sweetest torture you had ever felt in your whole life, your heart pounding against your chest at a furious pace as he held you closer to him, not letting go of you anytime soon. “sorry, doll. what’d ya say earlier? too busy kissin’ these pretty lips of yours.” “oh great, and you weren’t even listening too?” the raven just shrugged, a smug expression painted on his face. “dunno, just wanted t’kiss your lips, you talk too much princess.. needed to shut you up.” gosh, you could’ve sworn you felt a vein popping out of your forehead out of frustration, is this guy for real? “mm.. can i continue kissing your lips?” was all he said, a low sigh leaving your lips before you waited for him to kiss you again. “oh no baby, not these lips. i mean the other ones.” oh yeah, expect yourself to be breathless after this.. kisses or not!

୨୧ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔

yuuta can’t help it! he couldn’t help but admire you the whole time you rambled about a weird first interaction you had with his companion toge inumaki and how hard it was to understand him! thank the lord you didn’t even notice just how intensely his eyes stared at you, as if they were digging daggers into your soul. this is probably a constant thing for him, i feel like yuuta likes giving you shy surprise kisses out of nowhere! and sometimes, he can’t even control his body and they just smooooch your lips, atleast.. that’s what he says! he can’t help but grin every single time he sees that flustered expression on your face after he catches you off guard with his surprise kisses, he’s just trying to have after all. though sometimes he’s aware that, these “small yet shy surprise kisses” will turn into much more than what they seem. and you wanna know what they turn into? heated makeout sessions of course!

yuuta’s large hands rest on the nape of your neck, the other on your waist as he pushes you down the mattress with his weight, trying his best not to crush you completely with his body as his kisses were slow.. slow and passionate yet you knew that was gonna change in a few minutes or so, and you were right! in the blink of an eye, yuuta wraps his two hands beneath your thighs, lifting you up slightly so your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling the both of you closer and into a more passionate yet lustful embrace and kiss. the special grade sorcerer pulled away, chuckling when you puckered your lips a tiiny bit to taste his sweet lips on yours again, yuuta gave your jaw a small peck. “may i?..” the raven muttered under his breath.. lifting your skirt and tugging at the hem of your panties. just know that.. if you nod and say yes, oh boy. be prepared to stay up all night! those surprise kisses were a trap to kiss you until you were breathless!

୨୧ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈

let’s see here.. to sum things up, yuuji loves giving you surprises kisses! and i mean loves it! he likes catching you off guard whenever he presses a kiss against you, your boyfriend gives you small little surprise kisses literally anywhere and everywhere, so much that you even have to tell him to tone down a bit because of how flustered you were! “but why, babe? i like kissing you..” he knew you liked it whenever he was affectionate so he would plant many many love kisses all over you nonstop! usually sometimes he even just gives you one when it’s unnecessary or so, kissing you on the cheek while you scroll on your phone.. kissing the nape of your neck from behind whenever you were in the kitchen, sneakily kissing your inner thigh from beneath the bedsheets, you name it! yuuji yawned as he wrapped an arm around your waist, scooting you even closer against him. “babe, can i kiss you?” no answer, you were too focused on that stupid movie you wanted to watch, he didn’t think you’d get this invested. the male gently put a hand on your thigh, surprise-kissing the blade of your shoulder with much desire and love.

anndd.. here you both go again.. on the couch as the room was filled with sharp heavy panting and lewd noises. yuuji’s hands grabbed onto your waist and moved you back and forth on his gap, feeling a bulge press against you as your cunt pulsed around nothing.. you prayed he didn’t feel anything. you always wondered how he’s so sweet and delicate with your kisses as if you were some kind of gentle flower you needed to protect, his touches were so soft.. so gentle and yet a little hesitant.. not wanting to hurt you in anyway. his mouth moved towards your jaw and then your hands. “you should kiss me more babe, i like how soft your lips feel on mine.” “i already allow you to give me surprises kisses in private and public, what more do you need, hm?” “.. another kiss, maybe? or maybe.. more kisses? more than the amount i give you in one day?” ahh.. you know you can’t say no to him, you knew just how much he wanted to kiss you breathless.

୨୧ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

surprise kisses with him are a must (atleast 2 him!) he loves sneaking small little pecks on your cheek and lips, though.. his surprise kisses are rather bold and lead to more intimate moments between the both of you. heated and long messy makeout sessions to more.. bolder ones, though you aren’t complaining really, he isn’t either.. in-fact he loves the faces you make whenever he plunges his tongue inside your mouth with no warning at all, grabbing at your ass.. your waist, you name it! scolding him about his “surprise” kisses won’t help either, he just knows how to rile you up in no time! the special grade groaned into the kiss as he pulled you onto his lap, grabbing your hips and squeezing at it with his hands. satoru sighs lowly, struggling against the heat and lust that was now flowing through his body like hot lava, he wanted more and he craved more.. he didn’t even care that it was supposed to be a “small” surprise kiss, he wanted you and he wanted you now. you sure do have that effect on him.

“you’re such a cute little angel for me, mhm? stay still for me a bit, yeah?” oh you knew what he was gonna do. you hear him spit on the top of his fingers for a second, body jolting as you felt his fingers rubbing your clit. “i’m sorry. i can’t get enough of you. look at this, you’re so wet already, angel. all this for me? all because of the kissing, hm?” he rubbed the slit of your pussy with two fingers at a harsher pace.. feeling your wetness on his fingers. “c’mon, keep kissing me pretty. don’t let these fingers distract you, yeah?” was all he said before the sweetness of his lips returned on your own, his kisses were sloppy and messy but yet he didn’t show any signs of stopping anytime soon.. his digits curling in your cunt, forcing a muffled moan from your lips. adding another finger in, he could feel how tight his pants felt.. getting all hard just from fingering you and kissing you alone was crazy enough, he wasn’t playing around.. he wanted more.. and he’ll get more. satoru will do this over and over again until you’re absolutely breathless.

[yandere-wishes]

*Laying seductively on lego bricks* so I hear you want more Jason x catreader ideas ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

So before Jason got torture by the Joker the relationship Catreader "try" to continue her job as a cat thief but was kinda depressed. (She was low key jealous of her sisters having their Robin, Mittens got Dick, and Stray got Damian. Stray was like "GURL YOU CAN HAVE HIM")

But when Jason came back as Redhood (Catreader dosen't know his identity yet) and she was fired up to make him her nemesis, playing tricks and flirting with him like her old Robin. Is this a 180 degree from the catreader with AK Jason? YES. I'M CRYING -(•ㅅ•)

｡ ₊♡♡༺Meet me at our spot༻♡♡₊ ｡

｡ ₊°༺Meet me at our spot by the anxiety༻°₊ ｡

જ⁀➴*Excitedly chewing on legos* OMG NO cause this is so juicy, like let me just rip out Jason's heart for a sec. Let me fill him with rage and break his heart a little.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚When Jason dies he leaves a hole in your heart. One that you're certain the Red Hood can mend.

=ᗢ=♡=ᗢ=♡=ᗢ=♡=ᗢ=♡=ᗢ=♡=ᗢ=♡=ᗢ=♡=ᗢ=♡=ᗢ=♡=ᗢ=♡

Your sister doesn't appreciate the little bird that follows her like a shadow.

She says his presence is like an eclipse, an eerie, tiring thing.

Some day she'll miss the repartee, the attention, the "friend" she made along the way someday when the boy lays in a coffin six feet deep, as little birds tend to do. She'll realize that he took a part of her with him. Buried beneath the earth left to rot and waste.

Of course, she only grows more frustrated when you say such things. When you remind her how fleeting and fragile this life is.

He was the happiest of them all. Cheerful little bird following his father through the shadows, chirping in joy as he skipped to echolocation. Playing with a naive kitty who never fully understood that they were meant to be enemies.

It's funny looking back, realizing how fickle children truly are. How you used to joke so earnestly about eating him whole and plucking his feathers from between your teeth. As you both sat on a skyscraper's edge sharing a juice box. Jason would laugh, would throw his head back, and kick his legs.

"That'll just mean we'd be together forever. I can haunt you from the inside."

You do truly wish it had been you that had killed him. That you had gotten the chance to peel the meat from his bones and savor their flavor upon your tongue. You would have enjoyed the crunch and pop of the cobalt between your teeth. Enjoyed finally, finally being able to crack open his skull and unburden him of his terrors.

But in the end, the kitty cat never reached the robin.

No, it was in fact the clown that gobbled him whole.

There's a part of depression that's relatively saccharine. The isolation and the silver of worry you feel, sweating off people when they note the vibrations of melancholy you emit. You see your mother's concern and your sister's vexation. You like how it makes you feel powerful. Like a divine decree to burn and kill. But you never do go after the clown. Your mother had forbidden such fruitless endeavors.

"I don't need you in a coffin as well".

Still, you long to wring the Joker's neck between your claws.

You had met him in the dark of an alley almost three months ago.

Requiem is held here often, in the shadow of your skyscraper. The armistice sanctuary where the two of you had spent the final quarter of your nights. No war, no fighting, just two kids in masks lying in the moon's gentle rays.

Your bag of jewels slumps over your shoulder. It feels like the weight of the world.

In the dark, a red thing moves. The ground shakes under his steps as the gloom slips off his body. He is rejected by the dark and unwanted by the light. "What you got in the bag Kitty Cat?" his voice is distorted, like an echo escaping a pit.

You jump, clawing for his arm upon descent, but the fabric he wears is too thick, the attack never reaches his skin. He uses your confusion to land a kick between your ribs. You slid over the concrete street, friction slivering the side of your uniform and the flesh beneath. When you look up again, he's seized the jewels and is halfway through scaling a nearby building. He turns to you, the white eyes of his mask sink into the crevasses of your soul. His fingers touch the side of his masked head in a mock salute.

"Haven't lost your touch sweetheart"

You spend most of the day sleeping in the sun, the only bearable thing left to do. You dream in shades of sugar plums and lilies. Sweet things that keep the bitter nightmares away.

It's gotten so hard to wake up lately.

So hard to stay awake.

Batman once told you that time heals all wounds. Maybe when you're older you'll forget the frantic patter of your heart when Jason smiled at you.  

A shadow blocks the sun, making you stir. Red menace that bears death like a perfume. When you look at him, your body chills. You choke on foreign nostalgia. Deja vue pricks at your bones trying to engrave itself upon the marrow. Why does the Red Hood feel like a forgotten memory? Like a lullaby, your mother used to sing.

He doesn't leave he just stares. Unblinking white lights instead of eyeballs. Trained on your body. You feel naked under his gaze. It's almost as if he's torn you apart and memorized every little detail about you. Refusing to sew you up again. He leaves you an open cadaver for his cruel entertainment.

Hours pass, he only ever stares.

You've stopped sleeping since that day.

His ghost haunts you. Flickering in the moonlight as you sink beside an alley wall. When you look up, Jason is there beaming down at you. Jejune, unscarred in every way. You feel phantom kisses across your knuckles.

Just a street cat and her dead birdie.

When did depression and insomnia become such good friends?

"I miss you" you whispered, as tears slid down your cheeks. You blink, trying to relieve the irritation in your eyes. When something blunt and cold presses against your forehead. He's there, the red menace, the annoying thorn that wedged too deeply into your flesh. Pointing his favorite handgun at your head. You almost wish he would shoot.

When the light hits his helmet just right it's like an open head wound.

"You look so ethereal in the moonlight, like a corpse bleeding out."

He's taken aback by your statement, he tenses, his fingers twitch. In anger or shock, you aren't quite sure. "You're really disturbed you know that kitty?" His tragicomic lilt tastes so irritably sweet. You can't help but laugh like a madman.

Maybe Batman was right, maybe time does heal all wounds.

Maybe you've finally found your eschar.

When Red Hood punches you, hard enough to fracture bone, you can't help but relish in sickly-sweet sentimentality.

He's so familiar but you just don't know why.

Osteonic, pneumonic your body remembers while you do not.

"Keep throwing punches like that and I might think you hate me, darling." You blow him a fake kiss before he sweeps your feet making you fall back.

He straddles your hips, pinning you to the ground. You gave him a fake pout before his hand is on your throat. Squeezing, harder and harder. It's like he's trying to push stars inside you, making you connect them and form constellations to say everything he never can.

Spots dance across your vision as you offer him a final giggle.

"Come on kitty, I thought you could take a little roughhousing."

It happens again.

He's so haunting in the daylight. Like a ghost twice dead.

He's staring

He's always staring

You didn't need to see his open casket

You would have thought him sleeping

He's dead he's dead he's dead

You say it so often these days it's like a mantra.

Jason, Red Hood.

Where does one begin and the other end?

You can't keep pushing the ghost of your childhood friend into the first new vigilante in town. But you can't help it.

It's like Jason's been reincarnated.

Like he's finally returned.

You've taken to reading Hamlet.

Not because you want to.

But because you feel like the answer to these phantoms lies between the ivory pages.

Or maybe it's because you wish to study Ophelia's madness. In hopes of finding a cure for your own.

You feel like Ophelia drowning in the river creek.

You feel like Hamlet arguing with apparitions.  

"I hate you." He screams one night, he's been chasing you for the better part of an hour after your recent heist at the museum. You laugh and through him a kiss as you jump to the next building. But midair Red Hood tackles you, using your body to cushion his fall. Your bodies rest entwined atop that familiar skyscraper. "I love this place" you mutter from underneath him. "I used to come here with my best friend when we were young. It was..."

"...Our spot" he finishes. He lets out a bitter chuckle that sounds more like a profanity aimed straight at you. He stands again, knees keeping you pinned down, digging into your hips. His fist collides with your face again. He does it so often now you've come to almost love them.

"Jason" you murmur as the blood trickles down your nose, you feel something in your eye pop as you laugh. "You remind me so much of him".

Red Hood stands taller. For a second the world stills. He reaches behind and pulls up his helmet...

There's a popped blood vessel in your eye. Or many a concussion has bloomed within your skull. Regardless the vision flickering before you can't be real.

"I've got you under my skin" he murmurs as he lays a chaste kiss upon your cheek. "No matter what I do, I just can get rid of the thoughts of you." He pulls your body up and embraces you so tightly. You only whisper his name like a scared prayer. Inhale his scent like ichore. He's too solid to be a ghost. Or maybe you're finally dead.

Jason buries his face in your neck. Muffling his sobs as bites into your shoulder, letting your taste erupt inside his mouth. He's missed you, he's missed you more than anything else. It hurts knowing you'd be willing to replace him with someone else. Hurts that you fell for the first wise-cracking man in a mask that you met. But it's okay, it's fine he can punish you later. For now, all that matters is that you're right where you belong.

At your spot, with him.

"I'll never leave you again kitty, I promise"

[sst4rdst]

synopsis : modern au scaramouche places nicotine patches on you so you would get addicted to him. pairing : yan scara x reader (no gendered pronouns used for reader) warnings : yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, scara is kinda cringe ngl, forced addiction. author's note : inspired by this ask @allfearstofallto received! (btw go check her works they're really good, just saying).

it starts as nothing. a lingering discomfort when you’re alone, a tension in your muscles that refuses to ease, a dull, unshakable exhaustion that follows you even after a full night’s sleep. it’s easy to dismiss at first, easy to blame on stress, on a poor diet, on the weather being too cold or too hot. you don’t think much of it—not when it’s just a headache here and there, not when the nausea comes in brief waves, not when your hands shake just slightly as you reach for your morning coffee.

but then it worsens. slowly, gradually, deliberately.

there are days when the discomfort turns unbearable, days when you feel like something is clawing at the inside of your ribcage, desperate to be let out. your body betrays you in ways you don’t understand—your heart pounding too hard, your breathing shallow, your fingers twitching when you try to hold a pen, a fork, a phone. it’s maddening, this constant state of unease, like you’re missing something vital, like a part of you has been carved away and you’re left grasping at empty air. you rack your brain for a reason, for some kind of explanation that makes sense, but nothing adds up. there is no pattern to it, no logical cause.

except, there is. because it always, always gets better when you’re with him.

the moment scaramouche steps into the room, the tension in your chest unwinds, your headache fades, your trembling stops as if it was never there. you don’t even have to do anything—just being in his presence is enough to soothe the worst of it, like he’s some kind of drug you didn’t realize you were taking.

you hate the thought. you hate the dependency, the way your body reacts to him like an addict finding their next fix. but there’s no denying it, not when the relief is so immediate, not when it feels so good just to exist near him, to hear his voice, to feel his gaze settling on you with that same unreadable expression.

he notices. of course, he notices. he’s always watching, always analyzing, always a step ahead of you in ways that you’ve never quite been able to grasp.

“why do you always come to me when you feel like shit?” his voice is flat, unimpressed, but there’s something underneath it, something too pleased, like he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it anyway. he’s lounging on your couch, legs crossed, one arm draped over the back, looking like he has all the time in the world to entertain your pathetic little problem.

you swallow, rub your temples, frustrated with yourself, with him, with this whole situation. “i don’t know,” you mutter, though you do, you just don’t want to admit it. “i just—fuck, i feel better when i’m with you. like, physically.”

the corner of his lips twitches, and for a second, you think he’s going to smirk. but he doesn’t. he just watches you with that same half-lidded gaze, fingers tapping against his thigh in slow, deliberate movements. his nails are painted black today. he only does that when he’s bored.

“how pathetic,” he murmurs, and there it is—that cruel amusement, that mocking edge laced into his words like a knife hidden in silk. he tilts his head, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “you seriously need me, huh?”

you don’t answer. because what is there to say? it’s true. it’s humiliating and infuriating and it makes you feel small, but it’s the truth. you do need him. or at least, your body seems to think so.

you don’t know that this was never an accident. that the first time you felt those strange aches, those unbearable withdrawals, it wasn’t some random affliction—it was him. it was always him.

you don’t know that it started with a tiktok. some stupid, throwaway video that he barely paid attention to at first, some joke about how nicotine patches could be used to make someone dependent, how withdrawal could be weaponized. you don’t know how the idea latched onto him like a parasite, burrowing into his thoughts, refusing to let go until it became something more, something twisted, something actionable.

you don’t know that every time he touched you—every casual brush of fingers against your arm, every moment he pretended to fix your collar, every instance where he pulled you just a little closer than necessary—he was leaving something behind. a small, colorless patch, barely noticeable, perfectly hidden beneath fabric and routine. a dose just strong enough to matter. just strong enough to make you crave him.

you don’t know any of this. but you do know that you always end up back in his presence. that no matter how much you tell yourself you don’t need him, your body betrays you in the end.

[chiyuuchu]

Brace face <3 (30th September 2024)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Prompt! Y/n gets braces and attempts to hide it from everyone all day.

You spent the entire day avoiding talking. It wasn’t like you could stay completely silent—U.A. was full of lively students and relentless teachers—but you mumbled responses and gave quiet nods, hoping no one would notice. You had just gotten braces that morning, and you were feeling a mix of embarrassment and awkwardness about the shiny metal now stuck to your teeth.

You’d even skipped lunch with your friends, opting to eat in one of the quieter corners of the school. The less talking, the better, you figured.

But you were starting to regret it now.

As the afternoon rolled around, it became harder to avoid your classmates. Mina had already commented on how quiet you were being, and Kirishima kept throwing you concerned looks, but you managed to brush them off.

Of course, the one person you couldn’t brush off forever was Bakugou. He’d been giving you suspicious glares all day, his sharp eyes catching every little thing. He had a way of reading you like no one else, and it was only a matter of time before he called you out.

Finally, during the last class of the day, Bakugou took his seat next to you, his gaze immediately narrowing. You kept your head down, pretending to be focused on your notes, but you could feel the weight of his stare.

"Oi," he muttered lowly, trying to get your attention. When you didn’t respond, he kicked your chair gently with his foot. "Oi, Y/N. What the hell is wrong with you today?"

You glanced at him quickly, giving a small shrug without saying anything. You hoped he’d drop it, but this was Bakugou—he never dropped anything.

"The hell’s with the silent treatment?" he pressed, leaning closer. "You’ve been acting weird all day. What gives?"

You bit your lip, trying to think of a way to avoid answering. Instead, you just shook your head slightly and returned your gaze to the front of the room.

Bakugou wasn’t having it. His eyes narrowed even more, and you could feel him studying you intensely. "Y/N," he said in a warning tone, "don’t make me drag it outta you."

Still, you didn’t respond, keeping your lips pressed firmly together. Maybe if you could just stay quiet until class ended, you could slip away and—

Bakugou wasn’t patient. With a sudden, sharp move, he grabbed your chin and turned your face toward him. "Say something, dammit," he demanded, his red eyes blazing with frustration.

Your eyes widened in shock, but before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, "Bakugou, stop!"

It was too late. Your voice echoed in the quiet classroom, and as soon as the words left your mouth, you knew your cover was blown.

Bakugou’s eyes locked onto your mouth, his expression shifting from frustration to something else entirely. His grip on your chin loosened as he blinked in confusion, leaning in closer to get a better look.

"Wait..." His voice trailed off, dumbfounded, as he stared at your teeth. "What the...?"

You could feel your face heating up as you pulled away, but it was no use. The damage was done. "I got braces, okay?" you muttered, crossing your arms defensively. "That’s why I didn’t want to talk."

Bakugou stared at you for a few seconds, completely thrown off. His mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but no words came out. He just kept looking at you with that same bewildered expression, as if he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing.

Finally, he let out a short, incredulous laugh. "That’s what this was all about?" he asked, sounding almost amused. "You’ve been avoiding me all day 'cause of... braces?"

You didn’t answer, embarrassed by how silly it all seemed now. But then Bakugou surprised you by not laughing or teasing you like you expected. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

"You... you really didn’t have to hide it, y’know," he mumbled, almost awkwardly. "I mean... they’re kinda... cute."

You blinked in shock. "What?"

Bakugou’s face turned red instantly, and he scowled, turning away from you. "Tch, forget it! I didn’t say anything!"

But you’d heard him loud and clear. A small smile crept onto your face despite the awkwardness. "You think my braces are cute?"

"Shut up!" Bakugou snapped, his blush deepening. He crossed his arms and glared at the floor, refusing to meet your eyes. "I just said it’s not a big deal! Stop making it weird."

Your smile widened. The whole situation seemed ridiculous now, but Bakugou’s reaction was oddly endearing. You never expected *him* to think something like braces were cute.

"Thanks, Bakugou," you said softly, your confidence slowly returning.

He gave you a side glance, still blushing. "Yeah, whatever. Just don’t go silent on me again, got it?"

You nodded, the tension between you both easing as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. As you packed up your things, you could feel Bakugou stealing another glance at you, still clearly affected by the whole exchange.

Maybe having braces wasn’t as bad as you thought. Especially if it left Bakugou this dumbfounded.

[miridiums-writing]

Hey could you write like a Thranduil x y/n thing? I kinda need it right now.

No Escape

Thranduil x reader fan fic

Imagine : If only you didn’t look so similar to his passed wife, maybe you could have made it out of the elven kingdom with the others.

Authors note : im sorry ive been gone so long, im back now though I promise. Ill set up a new masterlist and we can all forget my old works don’t exist because I hate them all.

The forest was so dark, you and the rest of the company trying to navigate through the winding trails. It was all going fine and well until you all realized you were gong in continuous circles. Seeing the same trees, the same oddly shaped rocks over and over that you all realized something was wrong. “lets just set up camp for now and try again tomorrow.” You insisted, noticing the frustration of the others. “Fine,” Thorin conceded. “We get out of here tomorrow though, we have to keep pushing forwards.”

With that you all settled down for the night, you went off to gather some wood for a fire with Bilbo, unsurprisingly your favourite of the company given how down to earth he was, plus the pure entertainment factor he brought to the group at times due to his cushioned upbringing. “Do you think we actually will get out tomorrow?” Bilbo asked, clearly more worried if that could be the case than he let on. “’course we will, we’ve gotten this far haven’t we?” You reassured, patting the top of Bilbo’s head in hopes of calming his anxiety. “I suppose so.” He mused, adding another stick to the bundle you had already gathered. “Exactly,” You said with a warm smile. “Nothing left to bring us down now except the dragon.” Bilbo seemed to grimace at this. “Don’t remind me” He grumbled. You just laughed lightly. “You’re far too negative, always hope for the best, and prepare for the worst. That’s why you’re here, you little burglar.” “I’m not a burglar.” He reminded. “Well, you’re the best we’ve got, maybe when we’re out of this forest I can help train you how to be stealthy.”

The light banter between the two is quickly cut off by a very loud thump against the forest floor, almost shaking the ground between the pair of you. You immediately dropped the pile of branches to the moss ground, breaking into a sprint back to the others, you could here them in the distance fighting when you’re path was blocked by the biggest spider you’ve ever seen in your life. It was a large black, hairy thing, immediately trying to shoot webs in your direction to catch you. Adrenalin jumped you into first gear, dodging by a hair at the first shot, and bringing your bow and arrow from your back to aim at the spider, aiming right between the eyes and firing the shot. The shot lands. The spider falls, only for three more to appear in its place. This was not going to be easy.

You reach back grabbing another arrow and letting it fly, hitting each spider as they came with pristine accuracy. Even with such accuracy though from years training, it didn’t seem to be enough. The arrows quickly started to dwindle, before running out. Not having enough time between spiders to scavenge for your arrows, leaving you eventually cornered, and empty handed. Though just as one of the spiders went to launch itself at you it got violently thrown backwards by...an elf?

~~~~~

You couldn’t decide whether you preferred the spiders, or this. Getting dragged, cuffed, towards a rathe impressive looking castle. Not that you’d ever say that allowed, in fear of further angering Thorin who already looked like he was plotting the elves deaths in detail, shouting, swearing and struggling as he went. You kept your head down, not sure what was about to happen, but not wanting to anger the elves, especially after they went out of their way to save their lives. Even if it meant they’d ended up getting dragged to the dungeons. You had graciously been given a cell alone. Given you were the only woman in the group it seemed only fair. You got yourself comfy against the wall, listening to the others chat amongst themselves on what to do, waiting for a quiet moment to bring up what felt like the most important thing to worry about. “Where is Bilbo?” You said, cutting through the whispers. The others immediately went silent at that. He wasn’t among them, you hadn’t seen him since before the spiders. “Maybe he’s doing what he does best, burgling the keys.” Baldin grunted. You just hoped he was right.

All talk of escape was cut off by guards coming down, leading Thorin from his cell to meet the king. When the dungeon door closed behind them all of you sighed. If Thorin was angry, which he was, all hope of doing this civilly was going to be immediately snuffed out by his rage. The wait for Thorin to come back was long, and silent. Talk of escape had died completely as you all waited tensely for him to return. And return he did. His eyebrows furrowed in rage, cursing under his breath as he was pushed back into his cell resulting in a loud bang as his body collided with the floor. No words needed to be spoken for them to know it hadn’t gone well. The already depressing reality hit like a train. Unless a miracle happened. This was it.

~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning to banging against the bars of your cell. You were crumpled against the wall, your back strained from the position you’d slept in. “Get up.” The guard said gruffly, starting to poke you with the sheathed sword to fully wake you up. “Get up!” The demanded again, much more aggressively than previously. You slowly started more your cramped body up off of the floor. The cell door opened and two guards immediately grabbed your arms ad started dragging you out of the dungeon to who knows where. The walk was long and winding, it felt like they were taking you on a confusing route on purpose to make sure you didn’t know the way out. Or maybe the halls really were this confusing, who knows. Either way you eventually arrived at a rather impressive looking door. Large green wooden panels made up the door with large tree roots encasing the doors, twirling around the doors handles.

Someone from the other side opened the doors leading to what seemed to be a throne room, with a tall blonde haired man sat on top, a rather dramatic crown upon his head, adorned with gems and jewels to mimic a berry branch. He watched closely as you were dragged in, forced to kneel down in front of him on the ground. His expression seemed to change from mild annoyance to surprise as you got closer. Now kneeled before him, the man stood, towering over you as he stared down at your face, almost like he didn’t believe it. “Oh, it’s you” He said, relief and sadness laced his voice. His legs seemed to give out under him and kneeled down staring at your face with tears in his eyes. “Oh my dear, how I’ve missed you. I though- I thought you died.” He said, his voice cracking slightly as his hand reached for your cheek, fingertips gently grazing your cheek. You stared at him blankly. Not a flicker of recognition behind your eyes as he acted as if you were supposed to know him. Confusion took over his features at your lack of response. “Calatheil? My blossom, why are you acting like you don’t know me?” Now it was your turn to be confused, “That’s not my name, I’m (Y/N).” You said in response. The man went quiet after that, staring holes into the floor. “But you look like her.” He said, his voice firm, like it was a fact. “That doesn’t mean I am her”

The man went silent again for a moment, anger passing over his face before disappearing. “Of course it does,” He said. “You’ve just forgotten is all.” His words were firm and absolute. “Ill just need to remind you, my poor wife” You looked at him as if he was insane. “But I’m not. I am not your wife, I’m sorry. But I’m not... I wanna go back to my cell now.” The man laughed without humour. “Absolutely not, my wife shouldn’t be around such vermin.” “Do you mean the dwarves?” you asked, going on the defensive, they were your friends, were they odd absolutely, but that didn’t mean you loved them any less. “Of course I do! You’ll be going no where near them ever again. Guards, take her to my room, and do not under any circumstances let her get free!” He ordered, standing up from his crouched position and heading back to his thrown. “And bring me Thorin! I may be inclined to allow his freedom under a condition.” You were once again grabbed by guards and dragged out. “No! I’d rather cells, don’t you dare, I’m not your wife! Let me go!” Your shouts died down as you were dragged further away, thrashing in an attempt of any escape, managing to get one arm free only for more guards to hold you, overpowered once more by the numbers. The struggling silenced to Thranduil as the door shut behind you.

[kiplex]

☆.｡.:*　Miscommunication .｡.:*☆

Caleb x F! MC SFW , a tad suggestive Word count: 1423 Tags: A tiny bit of angst, a lil fighting, Caleb being insensitive, resolved angst, Tara is a good friend, breaking and entering???, some smooches, use of "pips" A/N: OMG not me writing more Caleb stuff, and still no smut what are we doing!? I promise I have some smut in the works for Caleb as well as something cute and maybe smutty for Sylus's birthday! My requests are open if you feel like giving me something to write about!!

Caleb doesn’t have the best record for time management for someone who literally commands a fleet for a living. The two of you haven't had much time for each other recently so you took a long weekend off of work to go be in Skyhaven with him, he knew you were coming. So imagine your shock when you get to his apartment expecting to see your overly excited boyfriend, but instead are met with the quiet stillness of his empty apartment. You poke your head into the kitchen, and spot the hastily written note on the counter.

“ Got called in to be Captain Caleb today, sorry Pips. I’ll be home by tomorrow night, Sunday morning at the very latest! Made some braised chicken wings for my favorite chicken wing <3 “

-Caleb

You pinch the bridge of your nose letting out a frustrated sigh. He could’ve had the decency to at least text you, at the very bare minimum… You took planned time off, you assumed he did the same but of course, he’s the Captain of the Fleet, those rules don’t really apply to him. Regardless you’re just upset, you now; at the most, have a full day with your boyfriend who you barely get time with. You whip out your phone to call him.

…

…

…

No answer. 

Fine, that's to be expected. He’s working after all. You’re about to dial him again but he texts you first.

Caleb: Hey pretty girl! I’m assuming you made it safe and sound?

Y/N: Yep. Made it to Skyhaven, a little pissed you didn’t text me or call me to tell me you wont be here for the majority of a weekend we were supposed to be together…

Caleb: I’m sorry!!! Hopefully those chicken wings make up for it :p I won’t be gone all weekend though! 

Y/N: I know, I would’ve left Linkon tomorrow if I knew you weren’t gonna be here tonight. I wanted to see you.

…

It's kinda lonely without you.

Caleb: It’s not like you’ve never been left alone before lol, just chill out and I'll see you hopefully tomorrow night! 

“Chill and I'll see you tomorrow”!? He isn’t here to see his girlfriend and his response is “Chill I’ll see you tomorrow”??? Maybe he had an apple core where his stupid brain should be because he didn’t just tell you to chill. 

Y/N: I take time out of my schedule which is also very busy to come see you, you don’t get to tell me to chill. I’m going home. I’lll see you when your brain starts working again Caleb.

 Your phone pings a couple times in a row, a few “I'm sorries” and “don’t leaves”, but you don’t respond, you'll only have mean things to say back and neither of you needed right now. You grab your stuff which is still conveniently located at the front of the entrance and head back to Linkon. All you want is to sleep in your own bed.

You arrive at the train station in Linkon late, luckily Tara was able to come pick you up. 

“Hey girl!! Do you want me to ask or do you not want to talk about it?” She asks helping you with your bags. “I really.. I just don’t wanna talk about it.” You say, shaking your head with a small sigh. Tara pats you on the back gently. “That’s fine, I won’t push. Buuut if you need him killed just know I got your back.” She smiles, sometimes you forget how truly terrifying the bonds of friendship are. 

Tara drops you off at your apartment and you give her a hug. “ I owe you one, lunch on me next week!” “ I’ll never turn down a free lunch hehe, I’ll see you next week, text me if you need me!” Tara waves to you as she drives away.

You flick on the lights of your apartment, sighing as you drag your bags into the entryway. When you look up into your living room, you  nearly jump out of your skin when you see Caleb sitting on your couch. He doesn’t even look up at you when you let out something in between a scream and a “Huh?” he just sits there, thumbing the page of some catalog you got in the mail that afternoon. You quickly compose yourself. “So what you’re just gunna show up in my fucking living room like a psychopath?” His grip on the pages tighten along with the furrow in his brows. “I’m the psychopath!? My girlfriend who was supposed to be safe at my apartment, leaves abruptly while I'm away and isn’t responding to my texts. God forbid I'm a good boyfriend who worries!” He stands up from the couch tossing the magazine aggressively on your coffee table. “Also you need to strengthen the security on this place, I broke in through the window.” He folds his arms sulking, not entirely grasping the situation at hand.

You rub your temples. “You have the passcode to my apartment- you know what that isn’t the point right now. Caleb why are you even here? Are you supposed to be working?? That’s the whole reason we’re fighting in the first place.�� Caleb scoffs. “As soon as you stopped answering my texts I took one of the ships and came over here. I’m technically supposed to be overseeing operations right now but I physically couldn’t focus because someone decided to go awol.” Caleb walks over to the entryway, his fists clenching and unclenching, a nervous tick he's had since you guys were young.  “I don’t think you understand how worried I was about you. You can’t just leave suddenly like that!” He says, grasping your shoulders. “No, I don't think you’re understanding the situation! I left because you were being a dick! I took time off of work to spend time with you, and I’m really disappointed you aren’t getting that this was a big deal to me, and when I expressed that to you, you acted like you didn't care!” You shout at tears welling in the corner of your eyes. 

Caleb recoils a bit at your tone of voice, his grip stuttering on your shoulders. “Pips… I didn’t mean to brush off your feelings like that. Believe me, this is the last thing I wanted to be doing. Working and fighting with you… This wasn't how it was supposed to go this weekend.” He removes his hands from your shoulders and wraps you into a hug, breathing in your scent deeply when you reluctantly wrap your arms around him too. “I was being a dick, but we both know work isn't something i can just say no to, however i should’ve let you know I'll admit that wasn’t the brightest idea I've had.” You sigh, nuzzling your face into his chest. “I’m sorry too, I was just upset because I couldn't spend time with you. If you ever speak to me like that again though, you better count your days.” He chuckles both of your bodies moving with the vibration from it. “Right right, I’ll be more considerate next time.” 

He pulls back just enough to look in your eyes. “Can I kiss you, or are you gunna bite my head off…?” His eyes flick to your lips. “Because, I really wanna kiss you.” You roll your eyes, pulling him down to your lips giving him a gentle kiss. “I already forgave you idiot.” He cracks a small smile before kissing you again. His hands sliding against the curve of your back, pulling you in a little deeper. “Good because I think if you yelled at me anymore I would've tackled you and you would’ve been more upset with me.” “You’re a freak you know that?” You kiss him again. “Mmm but I'm your freak.” He smiles smugly into the kiss.

Eventually you pull apart. “I’m guessing you have to dash off back to work now, right Colonel?” He shoots you a guilty look, before bringing on your hands to his mouth, kissing the back tenderly. “Unfortunately yes, however I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow, when you and I are both in Skyhaven.” You roll your eyes, the faintest smirk on your lips. “Oh yeah? How do you plan on making it up to me, hmm?” He grins. “You’ll just have to see, won’t you princess?” He pulls you in one last time kissing the junction where your ear meets your neck. “I guess I will.” 

[nocturnebite]

⟡ 𝙒 𝙃 𝙀 𝙉⠀𝙒 𝙀⠀𝙒 𝙀 𝙍 𝙀⠀𝙒 𝙃 𝙊 𝙇 𝙀 ⟡ {pt. 1}

⟡ 𝙒 𝙃 𝙀 𝙉⠀𝙒 𝙀⠀𝙒 𝙀 𝙍 𝙀⠀𝙒 𝙃 𝙊 𝙇 𝙀... Before the secrets, before the silence — there was only him. And it was enough. Until it wasn’t.

⋆˙⟡. tw: emotional tension || subtle trauma hints || bruises/ injury mentions || secretive behavior || slow-burn angst ⋆˙⟡. pair: ?? jungwon x female! reader ⋆˙⟡. wc: 1.47k

⋆˙⟡. ash's notes: kinda angsty kinda not.. hate me later ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

Jungwon seemed like the embodiment of perfection — in the way he studied, in how he treated others, and especially in how he treated you. To him, you, along with a few close friends and family, meant more than anything else in the world. 

Growing up with him felt like living in a constant state of comfort and security. Like the world was just a little softer when he was around. He made even the smallest moments feel special, whether it was sharing quiet afternoons, walking home together after school, or laughing over the silliest things. With Jungwon, everything felt safe, easy, and full of meaning — like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Over the years, those moments started to linger a little longer. His laugh stuck in your mind more than it used to, and the way he’d smile towards you during conversations made your heart stop without warning. It was slow, almost unnoticeable at first — but somewhere between your late night talks and shared secrets, the comfort began to feel like something deeper.

And then, one day, it just sorta… happened.

If you’re being honest, you knew it would happen from the moment you first met. Your first day of school. You had the unfortunate luck of walking straight into one of the hardest tests of the semester, barely knowing where your next class was, let alone how to solve question seven. You remember muttering under your breath, frustration bubbling up, when a soft voice beside you whispered, “It’s C. Trust me.” 

You glanced over, startled, and saw him — calm, confident, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he’d just broken some sacred rule and enjoyed it. That was Jungwon. Helpful in the quietest, most unexpected ways. And from that moment on, he never really left your side.

Now, years later, that same boy sits beside you — his hand in yours, your heart still skipping when he laughs. From a look held a little too long, a touch that lingered, and suddenly, you weren’t just childhood friends anymore. You were his, and he was yours — as if it had always been leading here, right where you both belong. 

You still smile when you think about the day he finally got the courage to ask you out. It wasn’t flashy or rehearsed — it was so him. He could barely stand still — shifting from foot to foot, hands fidgeting with the sleeves of his navy blue hoodie. He fumbled over his words, eyes darting around looking everywhere but at you, and somehow he managed to make it the most perfect moment. He said it, plain and simple, like it had been on the tip of his tongue for years.

“I… I like you.”  He blurted out, then immediately looked down, like he couldn’t believe he’d actually said it. “I’ve liked you for a while, actually. I just… didn’t know how to tell you.” 

His voice was soft, shaky at the edges, but so sincere it made your chest ache.

And when you said yes — barely louder than a whisper — the way his whole face lit up, cheeks flushed and eyes wide with disbelief, made you fall for him all over again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

For a while, everything felt perfect. Being with Jungwon was easy in all the right ways — late-night calls, quiet dates, shared dreams about the future. The kind of love that felt steady. Safe.

But even perfect things cast shadows.

It began with the little things — a bruise here, a cut there. Back in school, you didn’t think much of it. He was an active teenage boy; injuries happened. “Soccer,” he’d say. “Ran into a desk.” You believed him. He always said it with a smile, casual and convincing. He was Jungwon — the golden boy. What reason did you have to doubt him?

But after graduation, things changed. Life slowed down, and the little things became harder to ignore. The bruises were darker. The cuts deeper. His excuses stayed the same, but now they sounded too polished, like lines he’d memorized.

You started to notice more. The way he’d wince when lifting his arm, or how he favored one side when he walked. How his phone would buzz late at night and he’d tense before quietly silencing it. How he’d disappear without explanation, then return hours later pretending everything was fine. He still smiled, still laughed — but lately, even that felt like something he was holding up, not something that came naturally.

You didn’t want to pry. You didn’t want to accuse him of something you couldn’t name. But deep down, you knew: he was hiding something. And whatever it was… it wasn’t small.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was supposed to be a simple night. Just the two of you — dinner, maybe a late movie, walking home with your fingers laced together. He picked the place himself. Said he’d meet you there. He always did.

But for the first time ever, he didn’t show.

At first, you thought he was just running late. Jungwon was always careful with time, but maybe something came up. Maybe he got caught up helping someone — he did that often. But the minutes dragged on, and your messages stayed unread. Your calls rang and rang, going straight to voicemail.

That had never happened before.

The pit in your stomach grew heavier with every passing minute. You didn’t even remember making the decision to leave — your legs just carried you, almost automatically, toward his apartment. You’d only been there a handful of times without him. Never like this.

The streets felt too quiet. Cold. You could’ve sworn someone was watching you — a prickling at the back of your neck, the kind that made you quicken your steps and keep your head down. But nothing followed. No sound, no movement. Just shadows that seemed a little too still.

You let yourself in with the spare key he’d given you months ago. The place was dark, unusually so… silent. You called his name once. Twice. No answer.

Your heart pounded as you made your way to his room. Empty. Bed unmade, curtains drawn. No sign of him.

You sat on the edge of the mattress, phone in hand, thumbs hovering above the screen as you sent message after message — all unanswered. Worry gnawed at you like a slow ache.

And then — a sound.

The window creaked open. You looked up just in time to see him climbing through, one leg over the sill, the other dragging behind him with a stiffness that made your breath catch.

His hoodie was soaked, clinging to his skin. Blood — not a lot, but enough to make your stomach twist — was smeared along the side of his shirt, a fresh gash across his brow.

He didn’t see you at first.

He stumbled forward, exhaling sharply, hand clutching his side. Only when he turned toward the bed did he finally freeze — eyes wide, stunned.

You didn’t say anything at first. You couldn’t.

You just looked at him — this version of him you’d never seen before, all shadows and bruises and secrets — and he looked back at you, as if unsure if you were real.

Your voice came out barely above a whisper. 

“Jungwon… what the hell is going on?”

“I— I can explain.” His voice is cold. Raspy, like each word scrapes against something raw in his throat. There’s pain in it — not just physical, but something heavier. Something he’s trying too hard to hide.

You rise slowly from the bed, keeping your voice even. “Then explain. Because I’ve been sitting here for hours thinking something happened to you. You didn’t show up. You didn’t call. You’ve never done that before.”

He hesitates, still refusing to meet your eyes. Finally, he exhales. “I… I’ve been boxing.”

You blink. “What?”

“Boxing,” he repeats, a little too quickly. “It’s just a hobby. Something I’ve been doing after hours. I didn’t want to say anything until I was better at it.”

Your eyes drop to the blood soaking through his hoodie. The swelling around his eye. The way he’s standing like every movement hurts.

“That’s not from boxing, Jungwon.”

He winces — not from the pain this time, but from the way your words cut through the lie like glass. Still, he tries to hold the story together.

“I just had a bad session tonight. That’s why I didn’t answer. I left my phone—”

“In pieces somewhere?” you snap, more hurt than angry. “Come on. I know you.”

That lands. His shoulders drop, and something in his expression flickers — fear, maybe. Regret. You take a slow breath. Softer now. “Why are you lying to me?”

He finally looks at you. Really looks. And for a moment, all that calm, perfect composure you’ve known him for shatters.“I didn’t want you to worry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

next

tl: (read rules before asking to be added ᥫ᭡. )

[lfghughes]

Won't Do It Again

authors note: I know I was gone with a while but I came back with a mini series ill be doing! readers beware there's mentions of drinking in this and also toxicity. this is kinda just the start so I know its kinda boring but trust.

Of course you felt dumb but somehow you kept going back every time.The first time you and Jack hooked up you didn’t even blink when he said you two should keep it between yourselves because you agreed, why should other people know your business? He claimed he didn’t want things going around and you could understand why so you kept your mouth shut. But the hot and cold from him drove you insane. Right now it was cold, ice cold actually as you watched him from across the room at a house party just flirting with a girl. “You’re not drinking tonight?” Nico asked and it snapped you from your thoughts. 

“Oh no, I don’t really feel good, I’ll probably head out in a bit.” You shrugged as your eyes flicked back over to Jack. Nicos eyes followed yours, landing on his teammate “Looks like Jack is having a good night.” A chuckle left his lips as your own heart fell into your stomach. “Good for him.” And with that you couldn’t watch anymore so you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to put as much space between you and pretty much everyone but no such luck. 

Home is where you needed to be so that’s where you went. There was no need to tell anyone goodbye especially not Jack since he was busy. The minute you got home you sank down into your bed, willing the tears to come but even then you were so tired of this cycle that you couldn’t get the tears out. The buzzing of your phone caught you off guard and you couldn’t help but let out a frustrated groan when you saw Jacks number pop up.

“Hey where did you go, dork?” Jacks voice filled your ear. “I went home, I was tired.” You simply answered, not wanting to offer up any more information on why you left. “Can I come over?” He asked and you knew you should say no but yet the butterflies in your stomach started fluttering around. “Sure.” 

It didn’t take him long to get there and as soon as he was in your door, he wrapped his arms around you and his lips were on yours. “You know, Nico was telling me how into you he is.” Jack started once he finally had pulled back and your eyebrows furrowed at the conversation. “I think he’d be good for you.” But before you could even say anything else his lips were back on yours and even though you were confused about everything he just said, you were focusing on the kiss. 

When he finally pulled away, he grabbed a hold of your hand and starting leading you to your couch. “Let’s watch a movie before bed?” He asked and you nodded your head as you flopped down onto the couch. You grabbed a few blankets and spread them out between the two of you. “You know that girl from earlier?” Jack asked, raising his brow at you as he turned to look at you. You nodded your head but you could feel that sinking feeling in your stomach again. “Do you think she was into me?”

What in the world was Jack on where he thought that was an okay question to ask. “You’re joking right now, right?” You asked and the confusion on his face let you know that he indeed was not joking. “No? All the boys were saying she seemed into me and I should go for it but I wanted a womans perspective.” He said with a shrug. With those words out of his mouth you stood up. “You need to leave right now.” You told him and his face only got more confused. 

“What why?” He asked as he stood up next to you. “Jack I’m not kidding, leave.” And with those words he knew you weren’t kidding and he left. This night was one of the worst nights yet, and your head was starting to pound at everything that had happened. It wasn’t long until a text showed up on your phone. “What did I do that pissed you off??” But the only thing you could do was click delete on the message.

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter one:

<next chapter>

➴ warnings: smut (unprotected sex, creampie, mirror sex, dirty talk, public sex kinda?), drinking, curse words, jealous fmc and jack being a playboy.

➴ word count: 3.7k

➴ author’s note: this went on a completely different trajectory… sorry for being a whore you guys 😓

—♡

“FUCK, Soph, you’re always so fucking tight for me, baby.”

Jack’s moans were heaven sent. Hearing them would never get old and you were still surprised they were for you, even six months later.

“Harder, Hughes, come on,” you ordered, feeling confident that he would do what you wanted for once.

You would later find out that Jack had a dominant hand in everything— hockey, sex, games. He needed to be in control in order to be sane, and you understood, you really did, but if he didn’t fuck you harder you’d start crying at any minute.

You probably said that last part out loud because next thing you know, Jack is sinking into you again, a bit harder this time.

“Yeah? Maybe that’s exactly what I want. Wanna see that pretty, doll-like face wet with tears, while you try to fuck yourself open on my cock.”

“I fucking hate you, I hope you know that,” you mumbled, hand reaching down to touch your aching clit. “Can’t fucking stand you.”

He just smirked, and covered your hand with his, rubbing and applying pressure on your clit, making you squirm on top of him. The idea was to ride his dick quickly because it was already four in the morning and probably your fourth round, but Jack was being difficult for some reason.

“Jack, I’m being so real right now,” you moaned, feeling frustrated. “If you don’t fuck me hard and rough right now, I’ll find a dick elsewhere.”

Something like anger flashed through his eyes, and even though he didn’t say anything, you could see that bothered him. You smiled when he slammed himself inside of you, angry and rough, just how you both liked it.

You lowered your body at the same time he lifted his, and the sex dance was just to die for. No one did it like Jack, not your shitty ex, not any guy before him. He was like a sex God, always making you come at least twice before he gets to come inside the condom— or inside your mouth, or on your tits.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned, voice still a bit raspy from singing and screaming at the concert you had earlier.

“Yeah? Like it like this, baby?” He whispered, his cock reaching places inside you didn’t even know you had.

You nodded, biting your lips.

Finally.

You and Jack have been fucking for almost six months now. What was supposed to be a one time thing, turned into a sex arrangement when he texted you, a week after fucking you for the first time.

You didn’t have anything to lose, in fact, it was a win-win situation for both of you. And with the way you both kept it on the low— you’re assuming he didn’t tell anyone, and you only told Grace—, not a single gossip Instagram page knew about your hook-up.

You both came at the same time— another thing that happens a lot whenever you’re with Jack—, and you sighed, loudly.

“We’re getting too good at this,” you said, wiping the sweat from your face, and getting off of him. You laid down, resting your head on his sweaty chest.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he answered, planting a kiss on your forehead. You smiled, liking how sweet he is after sex.

You both stayed quiet for a few minutes, breathing in sync, enjoying the peaceful satisfaction of a good fucking. But then;

“How’s your album doing?”

You frowned, more surprised than anything. It wasn’t unusual for you to have a small pillow talk before any of you left, and you tried not to read much into it, because it was just that. Talking. Mostly about his games and your concerts, but nothing too personal. Talking about your songs with people always felt too personal, because your songs were your feelings.

And especially with your new upcoming album, rip to my feelings. It was your most important album yet, and you kept it really close to your heart. So Jack asking about it meant only one thing.

He, for some goddamn reason, cared.

“How do you know about it?” You chuckled, watching as the sun started to rise behind his curtains. You fucked the entire night. Damn.

“I follow you on Instagram, dumbass,” you couldn’t see it, but you would swear on your mother’s life that he rolled his eyes after speaking.

“I haven’t announced anything yet, dumbass. Tell me the truth.”

“Well, Grace might have talked about it the last time we saw each other.” You could feel him half-shrugging.

“That girl can’t keep a secret to save her life,” you giggled. “It’s fine. It's a bit hard to complete it though.”

“Why?”

There it was. Jack acting like he truly wanted to know about your stuff.

You ignored the tug on your heart and kept going.

“It’s too personal,” you started. “All of my previous songs are good and I love them, but they’re just… songs. It’s like I’m telling someone else’s story, y’know? They’re not about me.”

“Not even the horny part?” You could hear the smile on his lips.

You smacked him on the chest, smiling too. “Okay. Maybe just that part.”

“What are the songs about?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Do you own any gossip accounts?”

This time you heard his laugh.

“Not that I know of, no.”

“I guess it won’t hurt to tell you, then. It’s a bit embarrassing though,” you whispered the last part.

“Try me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

He shouldn’t call you that when you were lying on top of him, snuggled and glued to his chest.

“It’s about Harris.”

“Oh, the dickhead, asshole.”

You chuckled. You weren’t even the one who told Jack about Harris. Grace did. In fact, she made sure to spread the information to almost everyone on the Devils team. Now half of the men on the team had beef with the actor. It was funny.

But Jack looked like he hated the guy. Every time Harris was mentioned, he’d lock his jawline, and his eyes would turn a different shade of blue, almost ocean like.

You wondered why, though.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “It’s not like I still care about him, it’s just… some of the songs I wrote while we were still together, and the others I just… they kept coming and I’m not a girl to hold back.”

He snorted. “That you aren’t. You’re a feisty, little kitten.”

“Call me that again and I swear to God you’ll never fuck me again.” You said, fake mad. He laughed, again.

“Noted,” he murmured, running his hands through your hair. “For the record, I don’t think it’s embarrassing for you to talk about him. I hope you wrote really mean things about him and I hope he gets dragged on the internet by all of your fans.”

You audibly laughed.

Jack was incredibly funny whenever he got that sassy man attitude on him.

“Jesus, you’ve been around Grace way too much.”

He went silent for a while, both of you staring at the sunrise in front of you. It was peaceful, and warm. You could feel the sleep making its way inside your body and it was more than welcome.

“Can you sing a bit for me?” Jack whispered. You were once again surprised by his actions, but you did what he asked anyway.

“This one’s called opposite,” you took a moment to organize the lyrics in your head, before starting.

“Oh, so you do have a type and it's not me.

Oh, so you can reply, just to not me.

If you wanted brown eyes, I coulda got contacts.

So y'all are in Paris now, guess it's public.

Face like that other girl you're in love with.

You knew I would see that.

You knew I would notice. She looks nothin' like me”

You could feel his arms squeezing you, and you smiled through the sad song.

“Sorry, my voice isn’t great now. I think I fucked my vocal cords up with how much I screamed for you tonight.” You apologized, tone playful and sleepy.

He gently moved underneath you, grabbing your chin and locking his also sleepy gaze with yours. “Your voice is perfect,” he says, voice soft. “And I really like your eyes just like they are.”

You smiled, leaning in and kissing him softly. His tongue on yours made you feel all jelly-like, as it always did.

“Thank you.” You whispered, letting sleep take over your body.

— ♡

THE clock read one p.m. when you woke up, Jack’s body crushing yours with its weight. You mentally reprimanded yourself: rule number one of one-night-stands: never spend the night.

Yet you still did it.

You tried to get out of bed without waking him up; no success.

“Where are you going?”

You stretched your body, feeling sore and tired. You noticed that you were naked too. Ooops.

“I’m going to my house, lover boy,” you smiled, putting your hair up in a bun and looking for your clothes. When you found them, you put them on and made a mental note to start bringing extra clothes to your hookup sessions.

Not that you were planning on spending any more nights at his place. It was just because it is uncomfortable to wear dirty clothes.

Jack sat on the bed, shirtless and so fucking cute. How could a man look that cute five seconds after waking up?

“Will we see each other next week?” He asked, looking directly at you.

“Huh, maybe we’ll see each other tonight? Nico invited me and Grace to his birthday party. Are you coming too?”

He looked confused for a second before letting understanding take over his face.

“I almost forgot about that, God,” he ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Then I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

He got up, standing in his naked glory and morning wood. You whistled, laughing right after. He rolled his eyes at you and put on his boxers.

“Bye, then.” You whispered, feeling your chest hurting for some unknown reason. You walked towards the door, but just before you left his huge ass room, you felt his hands on your waist, pulling you close to his naked chest.

He kissed your forehead gently before smiling at you. “Bye, Soph.”

You left his house like your ass was on fire.

— ♡

liked by nhl, tatemcrae, dixiedamelio and 789,982 others

sophiamontenegro happy nicohischier day to those who celebrate 🤍!! can’t explain how much i adore u.

View all 5,615 comments

nicohischier ❤️😌

user1 RUE WHEN WAS THIS?

user2 didnt know my girl was a hockey fan

user3 y’all acting like she didn’t sing at the devils charity gala like six months ago and posted a picture with nico’s jersey too 🤣

user7 user3 No bc fr and nico once posted a picture at her concert like?? People are so dumb lmfao

user4 user7 user3 the only thing that’s surprising here is JACK HUGHES liking this post and following soph. When did this even happen????

user5 she’s so goddamn fine lord help me

user6 When’s the new album coming out 😓

sophiamontenegro user6 soon my love i promise!

— ♡

“HAPPY birthday, Nico!”

Nico Hischier was one of the nicest people you’ve ever met. In these six months that passed, you’ve grown so fond of him it was almost comical. But you couldn’t help it— he was just a big, fluffy teddy bear.

“Hey there, cutie, thank you,” he hugged you tightly, before moving to Grace behind you. “Hi, Gracey lady,”

You smiled, taking in Nico’s Monterey type of house. It wasn’t your first time there, but anything was better than watching Grace and Nico passive-flirt with each other.

“Hi, Nico, happy birthday.” You heard your best friend say.

His house was somewhat full: lots of hockey players and their girlfriends, Nico’s family and some other friends.

And right there, in the open living room, sitting on the couch beside a… girl. A blonde, gorgeous girl, was Jack Hughes himself.

You raised your brow at him, and he raised his to mimic yours.

“I ordered pizza for everyone, but there’s also plenty of food in the kitchen, Ma prepared it all,” Nico brought your attention back to him, and you smiled. “And vegetarian pizza for you, Grace.”

You saw your best friend turn every shade of pink before she managed to say a little “thank you”. Adorable. You loved them a lot.

The doorbell rang again and you both moved out of the way so Nico could greet whoever was behind the door. Grace took you straight to the kitchen, talking about how she needed a beer.

“Did you know he was going to be here?” Grace asked as she reached for the bottle in the freezer.

“Who?” You played dumb, opening your own bottle.

She poker-faced you.

“You know damn well who, girl,” she closed the freezer and stood in front of you, on the other side of the counter.

You both looked at the living space and saw Jack sitting on the couch with the same girl from before. He didn’t seem to be particularly enjoying himself, but the girl certainly was.

“Yeah, I did. We talked this morning.” You shrugged.

“Does it bother you?”

You were ready to say no and move on with your night but even though it wouldn’t be a lie, it would still feel like one.

Jack wasn't your first fuck buddy, just the one who lasted longer, and that was probably why your head was all messy. Dating was certainly out of the question because of how traumatized you got by Harris, but what you had with Jack wasn’t just… sex.

At least not for you.

And you didn’t know Jack before, but you may or may not have looked him up online and you saw how long his dating list was. Literally, that guy had a mission and that mission was to fuck every Jerseywoman there is.

But he did seem to settle down when you guys started fucking a few months ago, so you never put much thought into it.

Until now, you guess.

“I don’t know,” you answered, honestly, because duh, that was Grace and she would know if you didn’t. “I don’t like it, that’s for sure.”

“It’s alright. More songs for you to write,” she joked and you smiled.

“You’re right.” You said, taking a long sip of beer.

You heard your name being called and you saw Nico in the living room, yelling your name. You chuckled and left the kitchen with Grace behind you. Greeting everyone— and, proudly! Not even looking at Jack twice!— you sat on the floor beside Trevor Zegras, cringing when he put his arms around you.

“How’s Dixie doing, Zegras?” You asked, and heard some people laughing.

Trevor frowned. “We broke up,” he said, like it was a well known fact. Hell, he had to be grateful you even know who Dixie was.

“Oh,” you started, smiling. “I did notice the streams of my break-up songs going up but I didn’t know it was you.”

“Fuck you, asshole.” He pouted like a baby, and everyone was laughing now. Even Jack. Not that you noticed or whatever.

“Ask me again in five years, I might say yes.”

The rest of the evening went well, the pizzas arrived, everyone ate and you were happy. Even if you had to watch every girl in there surrounding Jack like they wanted him to be their baby daddy.

You finished your fourth beer, feeling a little tipsy and desperate to pee. You excused yourself and went to the bathroom, silently complaining about how far it was from the rest of the house.

You found the huge upstairs bathroom— the downstairs one was occupied— and went on with your business. Washing your hands, you wondered why you were feeling so weird that evening. Why did the fact that Jack still talks to other girls bother you so much?

Hell if you knew the answer.

You opened the door, holding in a scream when you saw the man in front of you.

“What the fuck, Hughes?!” You angrily said, heart practically in your mouth.

“Sorry,” he whispered, smirking and not looking even the tiniest bit sorry for scaring you. He stepped closer and wrapped his warm, calloused hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “‘Needed you.” He mumbled, before locking your lips together.

As his sweet, pillowy lips brushed against yours, you couldn’t do anything but melt in his arms, putting yours around his neck, and standing on the tip of your toes so you could reach him.

It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since the last time he’d been inside you but it didn’t matter. Your panties were starting to feel sticky again and you felt yourself clenching around nothing, your insides already used to his thick dick.

He probably had the same idea as you, because he pushed you inside the bathroom again, locking the door behind him, without breaking the kiss.

“You’ll need to be quiet, okay, baby?” He whispered in your ear, turning you around until your hands were placed on the bathroom sink vanity, looking at him through the mirror. “We don't want anyone else hearing you, do we?”

You smirked, the alcohol making you a little braver. “I don’t have a problem with that. At all.”

He lifted your skirt and pulled your panties to the side. Oh, so this is how this is going to be.

“I don’t fucking share, Sophia.” He said through his teeth, taking his cock out, and you remembered to answer him before you started drooling.

“And you think I do?” You replied, thinking about all the girls downstairs, who would probably pay to be in your place right now.

He stared at you, eyes confused and mouth a little bit open. You pushed your ass back towards his crotch, wanting him to forget about your little slip up. You didn’t know where the possessiveness even came from but hell if you’d let him catch on it.

“Fuck, I didn’t bring a condom, and I know that Nico doesn’t have any here, he’s probably waiting until marriage or something.” He said, running his hands through his hair.

“You can…” you bit your lips, looking directly into his eyes. “You can come inside, I’m on birth control,” you whispered, knowing it was risky. You have never fucked anyone without protection before, and you knew it was probably extremely shitty and you would regret it in the morning but. Horny you didn’t think properly.

“Fuck. Are you sure?”

You saw his reflection in the mirror, his blue eyes dark and full of lust. You nodded once, and he shook his head too, spitting on his hand and spreading it on his dick. It wasn’t even needed with how wet you were, the possibility of getting caught at any time exciting you in ways you never thought possible.

He entered you in a quick, rough move, knowing that you didn’t have much time before someone— Grace or, fuck, even Nico himself— came looking for any of you.

It wasn’t his first time fucking you from behind but it was possibly the hottest one. Looking at him behind you, towering you with his body while you were bent over like some cheap whore did wonders for your horny thoughts.

You moaned loudly, knowing that you needed to be quiet but not really caring. This was too good to be silent.

Jack thought otherwise, though.

Without stopping pounding into you, he fisted your hair into a ponytail and pulled you, until your back was glued to his chest. He wrapped his other hand around your mouth, muffling your sounds, while fucking himself deeper into your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up, Sophia,” during sex, he only used your name whenever he was really pissed, and apparently this was one of those times. “Don’t need anyone hearing how much of a whore you actually are.”

You panted, tears forming in your eyes, but you knew you couldn’t shed a single tear. Your makeup would smudge and you would have to explain the fucked out look in your face.

Jack let go of your hair, using that hand to cover your mouth instead, while his right hand rubs on your clit, quick and precise. Your legs are one step closer to giving out so you gripped the counter like your life depended on it.

The sound of his hips meeting your ass was loud and you prayed to God that no one was behind the bathroom door because it would be obvious to anyone what was happening inside that bathroom, it smelled like sex and sweat.

“Fuck, uh, come for me, baby, c’mon,” Jack whispered, hands still on you, dick fucking you hard and rough, leaving your insides raw and deliciously hurting. “Come on my cock like the good girl you are.”

The praising, a rare occasion if you may add, did it for you, and you came on his cock, not fighting the tears anymore, and watching in the mirror as Jack bent you over the sink again, fucking you fast, using you, looking for his own release.

It was the first time you ever felt someone coming inside of you (your ex-boyfriend hated how messy it’d get), and fuck if that didn’t do something to your brain chemistry. It also did something to Jack, apparently, seeing how he couldn’t take his eyes off where you both were connected, watching as his cum dropped out of your used pussy as he removed his dick from you.

“Jesus fuck, Soph,” he breathed, and you chuckled, knowing exactly what he meant. Yeah, you thought, Jesus fuck. “You’re a fucking dream.”

You smiled, trying to regain your composure. “Do you think they noticed we were gone?”

He smirked, while grabbing a piece of paper and wetting it a bit, before wiping you. Oh. “‘Dunno. But they know we’re hooking-up so.” He shrugged.

“What do you mean they know?” You raised your body, looking at him surprised. You’d thought he hadn’t told anyone.

“I told them,” he frowned, probably misinterpreting your reaction. “What? Wasn’t I supposed to? I can tell them I was lying if that’s what you want.”

There it was, your heart doing a fucking hip hop choreography again.

Stop, you stupid thing.

“No, it’s fine, I just… I didn’t think you wanted them to know, that’s all.” You shrugged, putting your panties back on, feeling sticky and uncomfortable. He had cleaned you the best he could but there was still cum coming out of you.

“Are you kidding?” He laughed, putting his pants back on, trying his best to look normal too. “I couldn’t stand the guys talking about you whenever they saw you, so I just had to, you know, claim you I guess.”

You laughed at his choice of wording. What did that even mean?

“That’s such a playboy move, number eighty-six.” You rolled your eyes, trying to remove the stains of mascara under your eyes. “I don’t care that you’ve told them, really.”

When he was done fixing his shirt and jeans, he picked you up and made you sit on the counter, making you wince with how sensitive you were.

Then, he kissed you like he was making a statement. Gentle and subtle, but a statement nonetheless.

What he was trying to state, though, was a completely different question.

“Come on, pretty,” he whispered, against your lips. “I still want to beat Trevor’s ass in Mario Kart.”

You laughed, throwing your head back.

“Not if I beat him first.”

[sim0nril3y]

How about one where they have a huge fight with lots of angst and groveling? I just love angst so much.

Note: my looooooove, i hope that this was okayyy, i'm not super happy with it, but it's kinda angsty with a little bit of hope towards the end. Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, talk of sleep struggles, canon-typical swearing.

There had been so much of your relationship that had been so difficult in the beginning. It wasn’t like there was ever a conversation that you were officially together, it just happened. It was like you never wanted to leave and equally he didn’t want that either. You simply began sleeping over at Simon’s flat, keeping some spare clothes in your car. It was because the conversation never happened that you were left trying to figure out what Simon needed or wanted from you.

It was the little things in the beginning, taking his arm in public, wrapping yourself around it. Simon was simply shrug you away, as if unwanted. You were hurt by the exchange, but it was hard to talk to him about these things because… well, it wasn’t easy to talk to Simon most of the time.

You’d try and bring up these conversations with him. You’d try and ask him what he wanted. It all came to nothing. Emotionally he struggled to voice any type of opinion or need. When you would begin the conversation Simon would simply shut it down, when you’d accuse him of being unavailable emotionally, he’d call you dramatic.

This same little argument would come up every now and then, but finally you were sick of it all, you were sick of going in circles, you were tired of not being able to make any progress, you were just annoyed by Simon shutting you out. “Where are you going?” His voice boomed from behind you.

“I’m going home.” You told him firmly, turning to look at him. “You don’t want me anywhere near you in public. The only time you’ll touch me is in your home.” You fumed at him and Simon look bewildered for a moment. “And then when I try and talk to you about it because it bothers me, you just shut me out.” You announced. “So, yes. I’m leaving. I’m frustrated and I feel like I’m not being heard.”

Simon let out a gruff noise. “You’re being dramatic.” “That’s what you always say!” You pointed a sharp finger back in his direction. “I’m telling you how I feel and you’re not listening. How am I supposed to know what is too much with you, Simon? I feel like I don’t know anything about you!” The worries that had been buried deep down came tumbling out. “I had to convince you to go on a date with me. You wouldn’t tell me what you did for a job. You’ve never mentioned any family. I haven’t met your friends.” Then shaking your head, you continue. “And you haven’t asked me any of those things either…”

For a moment he looked frustrated, turning and rubbing his hands over his face. “You won’t talk to me… I don’t even… I don’t even know what we are.” You pointed out, voice lowering sadly. “I’m not expecting you to tell me everything… I just… I want to know if I’ll ever know anything.” Simon looked rigid, like he was frozen in fear. The way that he didn’t instantly jump to comfort you or assure you only increased you hurt feelings. Simply you nodded your head and said. “Okay… well, when you figure it out… you have my number.”

With a sharp turn you left the flat, tears beginning to fill your eyes and finally spilling down your face by the time that you reached your car. As you sat there you wondered if you should have just allowed things to continue, but that didn’t feel right for you. Of course, you didn’t want to make Simon uncomfortable either, feeling like he had to tell you things he didn’t want to talk about but if you were going to be more to him than a fling then you wanted to know more about him.

The next few days you didn’t hear from Simon and deep down you had convinced yourself you were never going to hear from him again. Maybe he just wasn’t ready for that type of commitment, or maybe you just wasn’t what he was looking for in a partner, too touchy, too dramatic. It hurt because you had felt like there was a real connection, something true and pure.

Late one evening you phone began to buzz beside you. Glancing down your eyes went wide as Simon’s name flashed across the screen. Shit… Shit, was this really happening? You had to shake yourself back to reality and answer in a breathless voice. “Simon?”

“Yeah…” His voice came back hard but with something lingering beneath the surface. “I…” He paused for a moment. “My mother’s name was Mary.” It was piece of information that you hadn’t been expecting and for a long moment the line went completely silent, you simply filled the space with. “That’s a nice name.” “It’s just a name…” A tiny smile tugged at your lips as you were reminded of the first conversation you’d had with Simon. “Come to the door?”

Stepping through your flat, prying open the door Simon stood there hoody drenched with rain, hood pulled up. “Haven’t fuckin’ slept in two fuckin’ days because I can’t get you off my fuckin’ mind.” His teeth were slightly grit, like he was mad with you or maybe himself for that fact. “I don’t know what we are but I know that I don’t want to lose you because of a stupid argument.”

Frowning you crossed your arms over your chest. “I struggle with opening myself up. I struggle with letting people in. I know… I know that is frustrating for you but that is just how I am.” Simon huffed. “I wasn’t expecting you to come bulldozing into my life. You turned my life upside down.”

“You could always ask me to walk away. If it was too much for you. If it wasn’t what you were wanting…” “Like fuck.” He grumbled, shaking his head. “Like fuck am I ever going to ask you to walk away. I’ve done countless stupid fuckin’ things, but that would… I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t put everything into this…” Then he took a step towards you, looking deep into your eyes with desperation and vulnerability. “I will try and do better. I will be more open. I can’t promise it will change overnight but I will try that for you… only for you…”

The second his hands clasped your face, bringing you forward to him a tiny whimper escaped your lips. “I can’t lose you.” Simon whispered. “Not now. Not ever.” Squeezing his eyes closed and pressing his forehead against your own. “Don’t give up on me yet.” There was a mixture of emotions that were bubbling around you now. “I don’t want to force you to be something you’re not uncomfortable being…”

“And I’ve lost too many people to let you walk away because I won’t hold your hand in public.” Simon replied shortly, opening his eyes and looking down into your own again. “We will figure this out, babe. You have my word.” Lips skimming against your own now, looking for silent permission. “Promise?” “Promise.” Your lips connected into a passionate kiss then. Maybe this could be the start of something different.

Masterlist | Ask | 12-12-2023

[atinyniki]

happy new year!

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!bangchan x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, established relationships, fighting, reader flinches bc of chan, reader is neglected, chan says rlly mean things, reader is pretty mean too, takes place on new years/new years eve, mentions of physical abuse, kissing, crying, kiss and make up (literally), chan is kinda mean to his manager (that he hates), petname, mentions of cheating, cheating accusations.

authors note: two posts in one day hell yeah ! this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1524

“seriously?!”

he can only bring himself to nod, evidently a little upset at your yelling.

you both go quiet for a moment, until you break it.

“chan.”

he looks up at you again, playing with his fingers in his lap. “hm?”

“are you cheating?”

“what?”

“are you cheating on me?”

“n-no! how could you even… ask that?”

you roll your eyes at him. “you havent been home in so fucking long, chan. and now you’re leaving again and it… it’s just not fair!”

“it’s my job, y/n.”

“your job shouldn’t require you to be away from me every day! you just got back”, you yell even louder.

he knows you’re frustrated, but he’s starting to get a headache. “y/n—“

“plus, even while you are here, you’re never with me… you’re always sleeping and you never talk to me.”

and then it just snaps.

“well, what if i’m tired y/n? what if i’m tired of running around all day with shitty schedules? what if i’m tired of having to exert my fucking voice all the time? what if i’m tired of you being so fucking clingy with me? i need rest!”, he yells back.

tears begin to well up in your eyes, and the words lump in your throat. despite that, you still manage to say something.

“am i really that clingy just for wanting the attention that i deserve? i’m your girlfriend for gods sake!”

he gets up off the bed, lightly stomping towards you. you notice the upset look on his face, red, teary eyes, and his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. 

you scoff at the sight, “what, you’re gonna fight me now? do it. hit me.”

though you act confident, you gulp, scared for what’s to come. he reaches a hand up to cup your face, but you shut your eyes, flinching and turning away.

there was no impact.

you turn back to chan, his face completely streaked with tears. “did… did you think i was really—“

he cuts himself off, unable to say anymore. 

you trip over your words, you know you’ve hurt him now. “i- i mean… i don’t see another reason your clench your fists. i just thought that—“

“clenching my fists eases the pain of my heart. that’s why i do it so much.”

“o-oh”

an uncomfortable silence passes between you two.

“um… just- come to me when you’ve calmed down. i’ll be in the living room.”

“o-okay.”

he makes his way out the room, his fists still clenched. you hear the pitter patter of his tears hitting the hardwood floor, and you just break.

you’ve done it. you’ve made him cry.

what kind of a girlfriend are you?

you finally let everything sink in. you sit down on your bed, wrapping yourself in the blanket, but it smells too familiar. it smells like chan.

chan will be leaving you again in two days. you don’t want to think about it, but you can’t stop. this is what he wanted after all. to think about it. to calm down. but you can’t.

not after what you said to him. not after what he said to you. your breaths become labored, gasping for air in between sobs. it gets painful, you can’t inhale anything anymore.

you’re stuck, you can’t breathe, but you’re being too loud. so you slap your hands over your mouth, hoping that he won’t hear, and you stuff your face into a pillow, body convulsing with every breath.

you clench the bedsheets, just needing to hold onto something.

chan was right. it helps.

he is not doing too well without you either. he hasn’t been able to stop crying since you left the room, trying to distract himself with the future next.

he turns on the tv, finally finding the countdown to new years. that’s when he realizes how late it is. how long it’s been since your argument.

it’s five minutes till midnight. 

the next year.

a fresh start. 

but it won’t be the same without you by his side. he tugs at his shirt, sobbing into the cushion even more. he’s careful not to make a sound, not wanting you to feel even worse than you already feel.

before he knows it, there’s only two minutes left. he has to apologize. he has to make it right. there’s no way in hell that he’s ending the year like this.

he walks over to your shared room, knocking softly.

one minute.

the doorknob turns, and you’re forced to face him again. it’s just the consequences of your actions.

your pillow is soaked with your tears, as is his cushion that’s still laying on the couch. your hands are clenched into fists beside you, just as his are now. your bloodshot eyes stare directly into his, and it’s like looking at a mirror.

twenty seconds.

he walks over to the bed, eyes flickering between the wet pillow and your puffy face. his heart clenches at the sight, and he digs his nails even harder into his palm. 

still wordless, he kneels down in front of you, where your legs are hanging off the bed. he’s now level with your face, making him far more intimidating.

five.

a tear leaves his eye.

four. 

he smiles softly at you.

three.

he glances at his phone to check the time, hand reaching for yours. you comply of course, interlacing your fingers in a desperate attempt to just feel him.

two.

he leans in closer to you, heart beating wildly in his chest. it feels like your first date all over again, the nervous feeling in his chest.

one.

using his other hand, he cups your face and pushes your foreheads together, smiling even wider when you don’t flinch away from him this time.

zero.

he steals your lips in a breathtaking kiss, and you just melt into it. your hands find his face, but before you can do anything, he picks you up, lips still attached to yours.

he sits down on the bed and pulls you further into his lap so that you’re straddling him, finally breaking away from the kiss with tears in his eyes.

“happy new year, babe…”

even more tears escape from your eyes now, but you just can’t help them. you hug chan even tighter now, scared that if you let go, he’ll be gone.

“you waited?”

“of course i did. i couldn’t leave you alone.”

you kiss him again, whispering little love confessions to him as you do. “happy new year…”

he knows the elephant in the room still needs to be addressed, and sighs. “i’m sorry for calling you clingy. i didn’t mean it. i really love the attention you give me, and i truly wouldn’t trade it for anything”

“i’m sorry for yelling at you… i should’ve handled it better. thank you for being patient with me.”

“you know i would never… um- do something like that to you… right?”

“i know chan, i was just scared… it was in the heat of the moment. i’m sorry for not understanding.”

he hugs you tightly, “i love you so much, y/n. you’ve changed my entire life, and now i actually look forward to it. i look forward to my schedules, my comebacks, even waking up… because i know it’s for you.”

you can’t even say anything, scared another sob will come out, so you take some time to process his words, kissing slowly at his neck.

“i love you too, channie. thank you for being here for me, and thank you for loving me. i know i can be so difficult and just a lot at times, but it means a lot that you try to make time for me.”

he smiles, kissing you again and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “oh my baby… i’ve missed you.”

you’ve never heard this type of emotion in his words before, so you just know his words have a different weight to them this time. 

“i missed you too. wondered how i was gonna sleep without you, knowing that you were hurt and—“

“shh baby… it’s okay. i’m here now, yeah?”

“but you’re gonna be gone again in two days”, you jokingly whine.

he smiles, grabbing his phone from the end of the bed, and he calls someone. you’re not sure who, but it rings for a while until they answer.

“hello?”

“i’m not going to be there for the interview.”

“what? why?! we’ve been planning this for months.”

“okay, well my girlfriend was planning on having me to herself for months, but we don’t all get what we want, do we? i’m spending time with her now.”

“can we reschedule?”

“we’ll talk later.”

he hangs up, and you’re a little stunned by the coldness of his voice. you know he hates his manager, but that much? 

“not anymore, y/n.”

“i love you, dumbass”

he giggles, “i love you too, angel.”, he says in a sing-song voice while bopping your nose.

“angel? you’ve never… called me that before…”

he hums, giggling again and quickly kissing you on the cheek.

“new year, new name.”

<3

[luvvyouforever]

saw your post about declan x reader x rupert and i can't stop thinking about them in their slutty little venturer tshirts ugh need to be sandwiched between them while they're bickering over who can make you feel better

ughhh the slutty venturer t-shirts! just for you anon <3

challengers - declan o'hara x reader x rupert campbell-black

synopsis: rupert believes he can make you feel better. declan disagrees and thinks he can. there's only one way to find out.

content: threesome (kinda?), afab reader, no m/m, rupert's got a thing for legs, no maud au so there's no infidelity, oral sex, handjob kinda, hickeys, praise, squirting

word count: 3k oops

author's note: this fic has been sitting in the drafts for a whileeeeeee. like before season 2 was even confirmed. enjoy! (ps i haven't watched challengers i just thought the title was fitting)

you think that maybe rupert and declan have forgotten about you sandwiched between them, but perhaps there were worse places to be than leaned against a doorframe, the heady scents of their cologne filling your nose.

"i just find it interesting that every time i come to look for our dear y/n, she's always right by your side, hmm?" rupert's posh accent echoed above you, his chest puffed.

"have you thought that she just prefers my company to yours, rupert?" declan's thick accent was so different to rupert's, but they mingled so well together. you briefly wondered how long you could still there still and quiet until they acknowledge your existence again.

"considering you're tipsy half of the day, i have reason to doubt that."

you would be standing there quietly for a long time.

it was painfully obvious to everyone, not just you, that rupert and declan harboured crushes for you. it had started when freddie managed to poach you from corinium to come work for venturer instead, and small gazes as you left turned into something you weren't even sure how to handle.

"you guys do know i'm standing here still...right?" you managed to slip out between the incessant firing off of insults.

their heads turned downwards, eyes meeting your own.

"of course, doll," declan said at the same time as rupert's, "could never forget you, sweetheart." they glared at each other, then returned to their attention to you.

it was a bit overwhelming, sure, but you held firm in your resolve to attempt to solve this issue. "i thought i could just let you both fight till you came up with a solution, but the plan has not worked evidently. and a girl can only take so much lustful staring and touches on the knee before she need something."

"i'm sorry if declan's made you uncomfortable, love," rupert said slyly, hand softly grazing your upper arm.

declan immediately lost the control he was exerting and faced rupert again with a loud scoff. "i'm making her uncomfortable? if anything, you are! who'd want a man that's slept with half the countryside giving her fuck-me-eyes?"

rupert couldn't help himself. "who'd want a man that hasn't slept with anyone in months giving her fuck-me-eyes?"

"oh, i'm sure i could make her feel much better than you ever could. just cause you're easy doesn't mean you're good."

with every word spat at each other, their shoulders squared and jaws clenched. if you didn't know any better, you'd keep watching the way their t-shirts flexed against their skin, swooning at the knowledge that it was you they were fighting over. but you had to do something.

it seemed crazy the second it popped into your brain. like something from one of those erotica books lizzie wrote. but the way rupert and declan were so naturally competitive, it might be the only way to solve this before they irreparably damaged the friendship they'd been building through venturer.

first you tried to clear your throat loudly which didn't work. they continued to mumble about their respective skills. then you tried saying their names. didn't work either. finally, with a huff of pure frustration, you grabbed each of them by the collars of their t-shirts and drug them further inside declan's home, effectively shutting the door behind you with your foot.

"jesus christ, you're like toddlers," you near-shouted. "you'd think a teacher told you that you have to share the toy the way you're arguing with each other. we have to solve this one way or another." you paused for a beat, letting the two men gather their composure. declan leaned against the kitchen counter, while rupert stood with his arms crossed. "i want you to listen to every word i have to say without speaking, okay? and when i am done, you are allowed to give me a response."

you waited for them to nod and once they did, you continued speaking.

"in full honesty, i can't choose between the two of you. you're both handsome and intelligent and i've enjoyed getting to know you. but i know you can't share. that would never work with the way you both square off like gorillas in a jungle," you said. your next words needed to be chose carefully. "however, i can't make a decision without test driving. so, we can settle this like adults in declan's bedroom, or i will walk out the door and forget that i ever found the two of you attractive in the first place."

true to their word, neither of them spoke until you gestured that you were done. declan was the first to speak up. "how long have you found me attractive, huh?"

"good lord," rupert whispered to himself, though both you and declan heard it clearly. "so when you mean settle this like adults..." he trailed off, posing a question for you to respond to.

"d'ya need her to spell it out for you?" declan asked, shoving himself off the kitchen counter. he sauntered towards you and his scent flooded your senses once again. his hand came to your lower back, dipping down just enough to graze your ass. "she wants us to prove which of us is better."

you let out a soft gasp, followed by a bite of your lip when his hand lifted then came back down on your ass, more harsh than a love tap, but clearly not as rough as he'd like to go.

declan chuckled. "think i'm already ahead of you."

"jesus, get in the bedroom already," rupert said, coming up behind you and replacing declan's hand with his own, pushing you towards the stairs.

the next few moments were a blur. before you knew it, your figure was posed on the middle of declan's bed, with declan and rupert waiting patiently at the foot.

"are there rules?" rupert asked.

you thought for a second. it was an impulsive plan, one you hadn't put much thought into. you shook your head. "nope. want you both to show me just how good you are since you're talking all that game."

declan and rupert looked at each other perhaps the most amiably the whole entire evening. while it was a competition, they seemed to have a silent agreement that your world would be forever changed after this.

declan moved first, his eyes already lowered and darkened with desire. having this view of you in his bed was driving him mad, pushing him to do that much better so he could always see you sprawled on the flannel sheets that smelled like him.

"can i take this off of you, love?" he asked quietly, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. you met his dark brown eyes and nodded, biting your lip as his hands deftly removed the fabric. you could hear the hitch in both his and rupert's breathing.

suddenly, rupert's frame was on your other side, fingers barely touching the skin on your side. "you're so beautiful," he said. though declan made the initial move, rupert took it one step further and brought his head down to offer you a sweet kiss on the lips. declan could've growled, but he knew you wanted to end the fighting. he had to just find his own way to touch you.

as rupert continued to expertly move his lips against yours, declan's own mouth met your neck and upper chest. he left hot, open-mouthed kisses on your delicate skin and you whimpered into rupert's mouth.

declan continued his ministrations as rupert pulled away and tugged off his venturer t-shirt, revealing his toned, tan body underneath. he then slid his belt from around his waist and threw it down onto declan's carpet. he took a few seconds to figure out his next plan of action and when he saw just how enamoured you were with declan's kisses, he opted for the same strategy.

rupert leaned down and started trailing his lips along your stomach, up to the edge of your bra, around the seam, then back down again. he was careful not to invade declan's space while also losing himself in the way your noises reverberated in his ears.

declan, too, rose from kneeling and took off his own shirt. you managed to open your eyes and the sight before you could've sent you reeling immediately. rupert was toned and muscular while declan was broad and, for the lack of a better word, big. in that moment, you considered yourself the luckiest girl on the planet.

your hands flew to declan as he leant back down, fingers roaming the broad expanse of his chest. desperate to have him kiss you on the lips this time, you moved your hand to his chin and tugged him towards you. he picked up the message easily and moved his lips against yours eagerly.

so far, you distinguished that declan and rupert had two distinct styles. declan was desperate and eager and ready to take you as his own. his kisses were passionate and you could tell from his touches that he was exerting a lot of restraint. rupert, on the other hand, was more calculated. his kisses started delicate, like he was teasing you, drawing you in, making you crave more. it would be a harder decision than you thought.

once he was satisfied with the trail of kisses along your body, rupert ducked down, fingers teasing the band of your pants. you looked up at you, somehow meeting your eyes past declan's head, and asked a silent question. you nodded as best as you could, then turned back to declan. as rupert's hands tugged down your pants, revealing your bare legs, your fingers tangled in declan's curls.

you had become so lost in declan's overpowering kiss that you let out a sudden gasp when rupert's mouth met your thighs. you could feel his breath against your legs, hands squeezing your flesh. you realized his weakness then as he groaned with every inch his mouth met.

eventually, you pulled away from declan, desperate for breath. he looked at you with a powerful look, one that you could hardly tear away from. you did, though, and gestured to his pants. "don't leave me alone here," you whispered. he smirked and stood to undo his belt, then tug his pants off.

as if his arousal was not already evident, the bulge barely concealed by his boxers revealed it tenfold. your eyes roamed his body and with a smirk, your hand reached out to his core. at the sudden contact, he groaned, no, growled.

you let out your own noise of surprise at rupert's hands meeting your own middle. your eyes flew to his and he met them confidently with his own smirk.

"she's so wet for us," rupert said, drawing declan's attention towards your center. both of their eyes didn't leave your face as declan's hand reached out to feel for himself.

"absolutely soaking, doll," he added.

"please," you pleaded, though you weren't sure what you were asking for.

"what do you need, love?" rupert asked sweetly. his fingers replaced declan's and they teased past the hem of your panties.

"what would you like us to show you?" declan asked. it was evil, the way they seemed to suddenly team up with the purpose of torturing you. it was as if every ounce of their fighting left once your body was available to them.

"y-your mouth, please," you squeaked out, cheeks flushed both from embarrassment and pure heat. "you first," you added, gesturing to declan.

"don't mind if i do, pretty girl," he said, moving to situate himself between your legs. rupert went to move, but he couldn't help himself but watch as declan slowly removed your panties. "fucking gorgeous."

rupert moved to your side again, one of his arms propping up his body by yours, the other snaking around and entangling his fingers in your hair. he came in close and you could smell the spearmint on his breath from the gum he chewed. "i don't think i could ever tell you enough how beautiful you are," he whispered.

had it not been for declan's mouth being dangerously close to your pussy, you would've reeled at his romantic words. you hoped that your shining eyes would convey your appreciation enough. he seemed to have gotten the message and smiled as his hands moved to wrap around your back and undo your bra.

once you were fully bare before them, rupert offered the same vulnerability, moving upwards to take his pants and boxers down.

"fuck," you choked out, both at the sight before you and at declan's tongue licking a long stripe up your core.

rupert smiled and returned to your side again. "like what you see?" he asked, fingers curling under your chin. you nodded enthusiastically, as it became difficult to form words from declan's ministrations between your legs. you couldn't do much else but reach towards rupert's body, hands exploring the muscular build of his chest and shoulders and torso and everywhere. he offered the same, soft hands teasing up your sides and breasts.

declan's mouth was beginning to draw you close to the edge. he was close to making out with your pussy, and you were positive both he and you were soaked. despite the slight burn coming from his thick mustache, your back arched from the bed ever so slightly, offering rupert more surface to explore.

everything came crashing on you all at once, though, as declan's finger slowly entered you, curling up to the spot that made you shut your eyes so tight you saw swirls of color. to add to the torture, rupert's mouth had wrapped around your nipple, tongue teasing and slow.

"fuck!" you shouted. "s-so good. so good, declan." your praise egged him on further and he added a second finger. his tongue didn't let up until your thighs squeezed around his head and you came around his fingers with barely intelligible groans of his name.

reluctantly, he pulled away, leaving your hole clenching around nothing. you were correct about him being soaked. he was a vision of pure sin, nothing else. it had to have been one of the sexiest sights you'd ever see in your life.

"think you can do better than that?" declan asked.

rupert released his mouth with a pop and smirked. "of course i can." ever the gentleman, though, he looked at you first. "ready for me now, love?"

despite your better judgement telling you to breathe first, you nodded eagerly. they switched spots then, declan moving to your side. before he got comfortable, though, he stripped off his own boxers. you whimpered. how could you have possibly gotten this lucky?

rupert situated himself between your thighs and instead of diving in immediately like declan, he teased you with his fingers first. it was torturous, but so methodical, like he wanted to play you like an instrument. for a second, you watched him with lust blown eyes, before averting your attention to declan's hard cock just before you.

you felt greedy receiving all the pleasure from the two men. you looked at declan with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster and he chuckled lightly at your pleading. he inched closer, getting comfortable at your side.

"all yours, darling," he said quietly. you bit your lip and outstretched your hand. declan groaned as your skin met his and he was sure that he had never been so needy for someone before.

rupert's mouth finally fully latched on to your clit and you gasped instantly. your hand continued to stroke declan and he leant down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. his breath tickled your ear and his moans were like music. down below you, rupert's mouth worked expertly on your pussy, which was an entirely different sensation than declan's sloppy, but deliciously overwhelming mouth.

your thighs squeezed around his head, but it only made him that much more eager to please you. his tongue moved up and down, then teased your entrance. your stomach squeezed with the feeling of another orgasm coming on quickly.

"fuck, rupert. please keep going," you moaned out, arching your hips into his face further.

declan could feel himself getting closer too, but he didn't want to finish then and spend time gaining back his energy. he gained the strength to pull your hand away from him and offered a sweet kiss to your palm instead. he craned his neck down to place more kisses on your neck, and once he found a spot that seemed to draw an extra whimper from you, he bit down and sucked.

your moans were surely loud enough to hear across the countryside. it didn't matter though with the way declan and rupert were lavishing endless attention on you. it was the best you were sure you had ever felt. that knot in your stomach only grew tighter and you weren't going to last long.

rupert wasn't letting up, though. in fact, he copied declan's move and slipped two fingers in, curling them upwards over and over. with every pull, that knot tightened and tightened. if he didn't pull away, you were sure you'd pass out. he didn't though.

declan's mouth continued to leave hickeys down your neck and suddenly, waves of pleasure overtook every part of your senses. before you knew it, rupert's chest and torso were soaked.

"had to be such an overachiever and make her squirt?" declan asked, releasing from your neck with a harsh bite. you were breathing heavily, attempting to come down from the intense high you had been feeling. declan and rupert bickered quietly, before realizing that your head had lulled against the pillow.

"seems like i won that one, huh?" rupert asked, moving up the bed again to caress the hairs that had stuck along your forehead.

"oh, please," declan said. his large palm met your cheek and you looked at him with eyes that made him fall only deeper for you. "we haven't even fucked the pretty girl yet."

[forsinnersandsaintsalike]

If you were Their stalker…

TW: uhh mentions of stalking, manipulation. Lowk kinda creepy.

Billy Loomis

Billy is both intrigued and disturbed by your attention. He doesn't mind the occasional glance or the way you seem to be always around, but he's careful not to let his guard down too much.

At first, he might think you're just a harmless fan-someone who enjoys his dark charm from a distance. But as the messages, the weirdly perfect timing of your presence, and the subtle signs of obsession start to accumulate, his interest grows.

Billy isn't one to shy away from danger, and he's quick to start playing along with your game. He'll notice you from a distance and make it obvious he knows you're watching.

If you start leaving him gifts or notes, he'd inspect them with interest, his cold demeanor showing only the faintest hint of enjoyment.

"You think you're the only one who likes playing games, don't you?" he'd say, amused by your persistence, but his eyes would hold a dangerous gleam.

Billy would start engaging with you in subtle ways-leaving messages in return, making sure you know he's aware of your presence. There's a thrilling, twisted connection starting to form, and while he's playing with you, he's also starting to enjoy it.

His thoughts would be a mix of intrigue and dominance. "You want me, don't you? You've always wanted me.

If you continue stalking him, Billy will begin testing just how far you're willing to go for him. He might lead you on with flirtatious looks, purposely running into you, and creating situations where you'll feel like you're "chasing" him.

At times, he might get frustrated if you're not giving him enough attention or taking too long to make your move. "You've been watching long enough, sweetheart. When are you gonna make your move?"

Billy would probably want to make you prove your loyalty, pushing you to prove that you're as obsessed as he is, testing your limits.

As things escalate, Billy would become more possessive and dangerous. The stalking wouldn't be a game anymore-it would be a twisted form of control. He might start showing up at your house uninvited, watching you through your window, and making sure you know he's in charge.

"You think I don't know where you live?" he'd whisper darkly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Don't worry, I'll always be close."

If you tried to distance yourself or resist him, Billy wouldn't hesitate to cross the line into more sinister actions. He'd try to make you feel trapped, showing up at your most vulnerable moments, claiming that you're his and no one else's.

Stu Macher

Stu would be both flattered and deeply entertained by your stalking.

At first, it would start as a game-an amusing one, something that makes him laugh and enjoy the chaos.

He'd play it off, pretending to be oblivious, but secretly finding your obsession thrilling. He might joke with you, saying things like, "I've got a stalker! You really want me, huh?”

Stu would love the attention at first.
If you showed up at his house or school, he'd act like it's the best thing in the world. "Oh, you're following me around? This is a new level of fun!"

He'd egg you on, making playful comments to see how far you'll go. He might even taunt you. "I'm not running away, sweetheart. I love how much you're into me."

His reactions would be more overtly flirtatious, encouraging the game without realizing just how dangerous it is. "You're such a bad girl for stalking me, but I like it.”

As things progress, Stu would push the boundaries even further. He'd encourage you to be more daring, possibly following him even more closely.

He might start showing up at your place unexpectedly, showing you just how much he's been keeping an eye on you, making it clear he's aware of every move you make. "You know, I thought you were just following me, but it looks like l've been following you too."

If you left him notes or gifts, he'd play along and take it to a whole new level. “You left me a present? Well, I guess I’ve gotta get you something now too.”

Stu would still find the whole thing fun, but he'd start becoming more erratic. He'd push you harder, testing just how far you'll go for him.

He'd start showing up at your work or school, popping up in the places you least expect. "Did you miss me? I was wondering when you'd show up next."

His obsession would quickly turn into an adrenaline-fueled mess. He'd start pulling more dangerous stunts to keep you engaged, maybe involving you in his chaos. "You know, we could make this fun. What if we made a game of it?"

Eventually, both Billy and Stu would start realizing just how much power they hold over you. They'd both twist the dynamic, making it clear they're in control and that they can do whatever they want.

The difference between them would be stark Billy would be colder, more calculating, and obsessed with possessing you completely. Stu, on the other hand, would be louder, more chaotic, and addicted to the thrill of the chase.

Eventually, you might find yourself caught between the two, struggling to figure out who you want to align with. Billy would be a dangerous obsession, and Stu would be the wild ride you can't get off.

If you gave in…

Billy loomis

Billy watches you with a cold, calculating gaze, taking note of every movement, every subtle change in your behavior. At first, he thinks it's just a phase—a brief moment of weakness. But as you give in to him, something shifts inside him. A twisted sense of satisfaction creeps through him, and he realizes you're not just playing along-you want him. You've chosen him.

When you finally give in, Billy doesn't waste time. He's no longer pretending to be indifferent. Instead, he's all about control.

"You finally came to your senses," Billy says, his voice low, dark, and full of something dangerous. "I knew you couldn't stay away."

He'll pull you in close, his hand gripping your chin firmly as he forces you to look him in the eye. "You wanted me all along, didn't you?" His smirk deepens as he leans in, his breath ghosting across your skin.

Billy wouldn't be gentle. He would make it clear that once you've given in, there's no going back. He'd take what he wants, pushing you further into his dark world. He thrives off the knowledge that he has you exactly where he wants you.

"I always knew you were mine," Billy whispers as he presses you against him. "Now, you'll know what it feels like to belong to me."

The first time he really gets his hands on you, he's both tender and terrifying. He might trace his fingertips over your skin, but it's all with a purpose: to test how much control he has over you.

He'd start pulling you away from everyone, isolating you with his intense gaze. "Don't need anyone else, just me," he'd murmur, as though convincing himself as much as you.

Billy would take his time, studying you closely, memorizing every reaction. He'd want you to feel him completely. He'd be cold, almost clinical in the way he touches you-making sure you know he's in charge, but showing you exactly how much control he holds over your body.

He won't ask for permission; he takes it. "This is where you belong," he'd say, his voice low, before capturing your lips in a possessive kiss. Once you've given in to Billy, there's no escaping. He would see you as his, and every time you'd try to pull away, he'd bring you right back into his world.

Billy would push you into increasingly dark situations, forcing you to prove your loyalty. "You're mine, and I'll make sure you never forget it," he'd mutter as he pulls you further into his twisted world.

Stu Macher

Stu, on the other hand, thrives off the chaos and excitement of it all. When you give in to him, it's less about calculated control and more about pure, chaotic energy. He would be more energetic, reckless, and spontaneous in his pursuit of you, but that doesn't mean he's any less dangerous.

Stu's first reaction is a loud, exhilarated laugh. "Finally, you get it! I knew you'd come around," he says, practically bouncing with excitement.

He might grab you in a playful, over-the-top way, pulling you into his arms with too much force and a grin that borders on psychotic. "See? I told you, you'd fall for me. And now we're gonna have so much fun."

Stu isn't as cold as Billy. He's more about showing you how fun it is to be with him-how dangerous and freeing it can be to throw away the rules. His hands roam, not gently, but with a raw need that makes your heart race.

"You think you can keep up with me, huh?" Stu says, eyes twinkling with mischievous intent. "Let's see how far we can go together." He pulls you deeper into his chaotic world, not giving you room to breathe, but making sure you enjoy every wild moment.

His kisses are hungry, passionate, and reckless. "You want this, don't you? You wanted me all along." His tongue moves feverishly against yours, the taste of him intoxicating.

As things escalate, Stu would continue to push you further, making every moment feel like an unpredictable thrill ride. He'd love to see just how far you're willing to go for him-what lines you'll cross, and what walls you'll let him break down.

He'd push you to take risks with him, to get involved in his schemes, whether it's stalking someone together or just indulging in reckless behavior. "Come on, let's go break something!" he'd encourage.

The sex would be messy, filled with need and passion, but it would be in his terms. He'd dominate the situation, his hands gripping your hips as he makes sure you're as swept up in the moment as he is. "Don't you dare pull away," he'd warn, his voice dripping with possessiveness.

For Stu, it's all about enjoying the thrill of having you and proving that you're as twisted as he is. He loves the idea of corrupting you, pulling you deeper intr his chaotic world.

With Stu, there's always that uncertainty-always that danger. He would push you further and further, knowing that you crave the chaos as much as he does.

"You're as messed up as me," he'd grin, pulling you into an even darker, more reckless journey.

The line between love and obsession would blur for both of them, with you caught in the middle, unable to escape their dark hold. Every moment would feel like an adrenaline rush-both terrifying and thrilling.