#if I don’t intend it then I just go ‘ok’ and move on

[stardust-falling]

Tbh I find people who write “don’t tag as <ship>” kind of funny. Like. Does it really hurt you that much that someone else ships something you don’t? I guess if it’s your art then you might not intend it that way, but guess what? Most authors and creators don’t intend half the fandom’s ships. This is really the hill some people want to die on though.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I love ur writing sm omg- so glad you’re writing for lads too!! ❤️❤️❤️

Sorry to add to your pile but could u do a thing for sylus (and maybe zayne if that’s ok) with an S/o that always asking lil questions like “can i kiss u”, “can I sit on ur lap”, “are u sure I can use ur card”, or just silent and shy physical cues like holding their fingers when s/o wants to hold hands ?

I hope that makes sense 😭

Sylus finds your innocent requests of simply wanting to sit on his lap, kiss him, little things that he believes you didn’t have to ask to do and he’ll remind you of such when he effortlessly pulls you into his lap one day.

‘You know you don’t have to ask for permission kitten, you can just take what you want from me instead.’ He tells you as he places one of his hands on your waist, thumbs caressing your skin over the fabric of your shirt.

‘I don’t want to take advantage of you.’ You trailed off, lowering your head out of a need to not look into his observant crimson eyes, but you should’ve known better if you though Sylus was going to allow you to avoid eye contact with him, only realising your mistake the moment you felt your lover grip your chin and brining your eyes back to meet his smirking face.

‘If you wanting to kiss me, sit on my lap and hold my hand is you taking advantage of me, then who knows what you’d think when desiring the more scandalous and intimate aspects of our relationship.’ He chuckles as he leaned forwards to kiss you on the lip, biting your bottom lip playfully and tugging it before pulling back to see your cute expression. God he couldn’t get enough of how you always act like it was the first time he had kissed you, it only made him want to kiss you more but then he remembered be was trying to teach you a lesson . ‘Now did I take advantage of you when I kissed you just now?’ He asks.

‘No.’ You murmured softly, fiddling with your hands, felling a little silly. ‘No you didn’t.’

‘Indeed. Which is why you’ll never take advantage of my love for you, and while It’s sweet that you ask before doing, but I’d much rather the action of having your lips pressed against mine so sweetly as you always do.’ Sylus then leaned in close until your foreheads were touching, his crimson eyes locked on you yours with a playfulness, leaving you with your cheeks becoming warm.

‘Really? You wouldn’t mind?’ You asked, looking deeply into his eyes for the answers that you seek. Sylus kisses the tip of your nose as he moves back. ‘Of course my sweet,’ he began while his calloused fingers brushed against your jaw and down your neck delicately as though you were the most precious person within the room, which in his eyes you were. ‘Nnot that I had any issue to begin with, take what you want and don’t you dare apologise afterwards. You have my heart already and intend for you to keep it.’ He finishes.

You felt flustered beneath his gaze but his words left you with a newfound confidence that you then tested out by holding his face and covering it with kisses. The kisses were soft and gentle like a thousand butterflies wings were beating against Sylus’s face, they were enough to make him smile in content at your first step into a form of comfortability within your relationship with him, and he couldn’t help but draw you closer to him to the point you were squished against his chest.

It was obvious to Sylus that you were still a little nervous with giving affection without asking for his permission first, but he was more then willing to help you break from that habit in due time, but for now he’s more then willing to sit back on his chair and let you smother him in sweet, shy affection as his chest blossomed with warmth and want. He has you to thank for many things and he promised that you’d never have to ask his permission for anything, for you to take what was already owed to you the moment you blessed him with your company.

You’ve already took his heart without permission, so why not kiss him, hug him, caress him without permission also, you were already his to begin with…

Zayne finds it sweet and endearing that you ask for his permission, even though he had reassured you that there was no need for you to do so, he was your lover and he was more then content with you taking kisses from him to your hearts content.

It warms his heart personally.

However despite all that reassurance you still ask for his permission regardless or silently take his hand in yours and rub your thumb against his purely out of a need to feel him even more. Though then again Zayne was no different for he was cut from the same cloth, he wouldn’t kiss you unless you allowed him to, nor would dare to let his hand wander lower south unless you were comfortable with; Zayne valued your boundaries and wouldn’t dare overstep them either way.

‘Zayne?’

‘Yes my love?’ He replied, looking at you.

‘May I kiss you?’ You asked, fiddling with your fingers. Zayne smiled as he puts aside his book and reached out for your hand, pulling you close to him as he stood from his chair, both of your faces mere inches away from each other. ‘Of course.’ Zayne said and with that you gave him a sweet, tender kiss on the lips, letting it linger there before pulling away, showing him that sheepish smile you often had after giving him any ounce of affection.

‘You know you don’t have to ask to gift me your affection.’ Zayne then said softly, holding you against him by the waist, loving the way your warmth seeped into him.

‘You do the same thing.’ You retorted and Zayne did see the irony in this, he always did, but still he sighed when he felt as though his point wasn’t getting across. ‘That is true how observant of you my love, but I want you to know that you can do whatever your heart desires to me, for I know they come from pure intentions and know you would never lead me into thinking otherwise.’ Zayne said as he looked into your eyes and smiled. ‘I trust you with my heart, I trust you with my love and my trust for I know that your hands are the only ones I’d trust to hold them and myself if I ever feel like I’m falling apart.’ He finishes and you couldn’t help but feel a little emotional over his confession, you smiled brighter then you did before as you gingerly held his face between your hands, caressing his face as you watched him melt into your touch and nuzzling his face against your skin like a cat.

‘Zayne…’ you trailed off.

‘Please my dear, for me.’ Zayne’s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke his plea mere inches from your lips, his hot breath fanning across your face. It didn’t help that he was asking you so sweetly to just give in that you couldn’t help but feel your resolve crumble as you leaned in to kiss him, kickstarting your journey to giving Zayne affection without asking for permission, for you already had his trust and love for the very start.

[always-just-red]

I loved the Drunked Call with Sylus scenario you made! I like the way you write it and I see you accepting request hehe. Can I request about... Sylus, Zayne and Caleb reaction meeting fem!reader, dates or accidentally met (you name it) and they noticed her long hair has been attached with chewed bubblegum? some kid pulled a prank on her before and she didn't even aware of it

Aw thank you so much!! 💕 I did different pranks for each of the boys just to keep things interesting- I hope you don't mind! They're all equally silly haha, and I had SO much fun writing them. Added Xavier and Raf for good measure, too!

It's Just Not Your Day...

L&DS Boys (& Caleb!) x Reader

Summary: It's you against the kids of Linkon City, and guess what? The kids are winning.

Genre: Humour + fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, reader gets a little stressed (and with some of these boys you can understand why 🙃)

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

One of the perks of being a Deepspace Hunter is the way people look at you. You’re used to respect: appreciative nods and gestures, wide-eyed admiration. You’re out in Linkon almost every day, putting your life on the line for everyone in the city. You’re a hero, right?

So why is everyone looking at you so… funny?

“Xavier,” you speak in a hushed whisper, tugging at the sleeve of your partner’s uniform. “I don’t like this. Something weird is going on.”

He yawns. “What do you mean?”

Can he really not see it? Sure enough, a businessman strolls past you, his eyes locked on you as he frowns, mid-telephone call. You think he even stumbles on his words. “Just look around,” you whisper again. Someone is watching you from across the street, their head cocked.   

Xavier is already looking around. You’re on patrol; that’s sort of the point. But he trusts you, so he follows your instruction: casting his sky-blue eyes around a little more carefully. They narrow. “Sorry,” he says, because you’re usually on the same page, “what are you talking about exactly?”

You fold your arms impatiently. “People are looking at us, Xavier.”

“Oh, I…” he seems to hesitate, “I think they’re just looking at you.”

The words could be romantic, but you don’t get the impression they’re intended to be. He’s implying something. He’s uncertain. “What makes you say that?” you ask, hands moving to your hips.

He shifts awkwardly on his feet. “I think it’s your, you know—” his finger waggles in front of his mouth.

You don’t know. “My what?”

“Your moustache.”

“What?”

Your hand shoots to your upper lip, but you don’t feel anything out of the ordinary. Xavier is staring, though, so you reach for your phone and turn the camera on yourself.

A black, cartoon-villain moustache has been sketched onto your face.

You gape at your reflection. “H— how…?” you stutter, tracing your new feature. Then a memory of this morning flashes through your mind: how you’d fallen asleep on the train to work. How there were those two schoolkids, sniggering, when you’d woken up just in time for your stop. Ugh. Really?

Wait— this morning?!

“Xavier!” you exclaim, turning to him like you’d just found his sword in your back. “Why didn’t you say something?”

It’s just gone three in the afternoon, and he’s been with you for hours. “I thought you knew,” he mumbles, rubbing his neck gingerly.

“You thought I…” You’re too bewildered, too betrayed to repeat it fully. Worst of all you feel guilty; how the hell can he look so freaking innocent? You turn back to your phone, desperately trying to rub the ink from your skin. It doesn’t budge. It doesn’t fade.

“Are you ok?” Xavier asks.

Of course you’re not ok, you feel like an idiot. Your cheeks are hot and the redness is spreading to the rest of your face as you fail to reclaim any of your dignity. “No,” you spit back, “honestly, Xavier, how could you just let me walk around like I’m some kind of—”

You glance up to discover he’s no longer listening. He’s not even here; he’s over there, talking to an old man who’s sat completing a sudoku. Great. Wonderful. Why not? At least one of you is making a good impression on the citizens of Linkon City.

With your eyes close to watering, you have one last, futile attempt at wiping the moustache from your upper lip. It’s not working. Gods, you’re gonna be stuck like this, aren’t you?

Someone taps you on the shoulder, and you look up to see Xavier, back at your side. He smiles reassuringly, sporting a drawn-on moustache of his own. The ends of it are curled even more theatrically than yours.

“Xavier…” you half-laugh in surprise, your eyes watering even more. “Why would you—? Now we both look stupid.”

“I look stupid,” he corrects, running a thumb over your wet cheek. “You look really pretty, moustache or not.”

Zayne ❄

“What… happened?”

You sit across from Zayne on a picturesque park bench, like something from a postcard: blue sky stretched above, wildflowers sprouting from the grass below. Birds are singing, butterflies are flittering about, and even the doctor looks perfect— unmarred by the first half of his work day, no matter how stressful it’s been.

It’s a fairy tale you covet: a little reunion with the man you love, on the odd occasion where your lunchbreaks match up and he isn’t drowning in paperwork. And it would be a fairy tale, if it wasn’t for you. You— your uniform soaked and your hair dripping wet. The wooden bench has gone damp beneath you; you’ve literally only just sat down.

“Gee, I don’t know, Zayne,” you hiss, face almost buried in your phone, “what do you think?”

Not too far away from you, some kids are locked in a water-gun battle, their shrieks of laughter loud and infuriating. Zayne glances between you and them, making his deductions. “Why—” he starts.

“Doesn’t matter,” you sniff, wiping your forehead with the back of your sleeve. “They messed with the wrong person, and we’re gonna make sure they know it.”

“We’re going to?”  

“Yeah. Me and you. That a problem?”

You shoot him a glare that sends a shiver down even his spine. “No,” he answers quickly— a survival instinct, uncharacteristically submissive— but his composure returns as you turn back to your phone. “Haven’t you got—”

Another dark look.

“Haven’t we got better things to do than start a war with some children in the park?”

“Not really. Justice is justice.” You shrug before pointing a finger at yourself. “Deepspace hunter.” Then at him. “Cardiac surgeon. Precision is kind of our thing, right? They really don’t stand a chance.” You’re laughing, now: “Gods, I almost feel sorry for them.”

Zayne has been watching your descent into madness with a calmness that does him credit. When he interrupts, it’s gentle. “I don’t think—”

Too gentle; you don’t hear him. “Pick your poison, Dr. Zayne!” Your phone is angled at him to reveal the all-too accessible armoury of an online store. “You’ve got your standard water pistols. Your water blasters.” You’re scrolling and indicating his choices as though you’re the salesman. “This one has two options, single shot or power shot, and— ooh! Look at this one! The AquaJet3000!”

With a soft laugh, Zayne pushes your phone out of his face. He would buy anything you’re selling, although— having seen the prices on your screen— he knows he’d be bankrupt within a week. “Linkon City is fortunate to have you defending it, and whilst I would be honoured, as always, to fight at your side, I was hoping we could… relax. You’re on a break, remember?”

You pout as he peels a wet strand of hair from your cheek. “Justice doesn’t take breaks.”

“Well, justice is going to have to on this occasion, because I said so.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he chuckles. “Besides, you shouldn’t fight fire with fire, or water with water. A lot of people look up to you, you know. Me included. So, set a better example. Save violence for the Wanderers.”  

It ought to be patronising: him, lecturing you on right and wrong when you’ve already added three types of water-gun to your virtual cart. He’s always so righteous. So collected. So moral. You want to be mad at him, but how can you be when he’s looking at you like that? Like he thinks the world of you, even when you’re plotting revenge against ten-year-olds.

You have a point to make, so you fold your arms and turn your back on him, even though he’s making your heart feel so frustratingly warm and fuzzy.

“I have something for you,” he says quietly.

To hell with the point. “What is it?” you ask, spinning eagerly around.

He smiles as he retrieves something he’d concealed behind him. It’s a small-ish box, pale pink, with patterns printed to emulate white lace. There’s a logo in the centre and you recognise it at once. “No way,” you enthuse, “that new bakery finally opened?”

You’ve both been waiting for months. “I couldn’t resist when I saw it,” he confirms, lifting the lid. Inside sit two unbelievably pretty cupcakes, buttercream icing spiralled high and adorned with sprinkles of gold leaf. Zayne plucks one from the box. “Perhaps—” he offers it to you— “perhaps this can make you feel better? Without us needing to, well… attack children.”

You giggle; it does sound pretty stupid when he puts it like that. “Thanks, Zayne,” you grin, reaching out for your reward. You’re glad one of you is vaguely sensible— those water-guns were expensive.

The cake is an inch from your fingers when a jet of water sends it flying from Zayne’s hand. It lands at your feet with an unceremonious splat, and from somewhere behind you, laughter roars.

The doctor blinks down at it in disbelief, his hand still hovering beside yours. He grieves for a long moment, then looks to you solemnly like you’re a colleague and he’s about to ask for a scalpel:

“The AquaJet3000,” he says.  

Rafayel 🎨

“Rafayel, call me stupid one more time, and I’ll—”

You’ll… you’ll… what? He’s looking back at you with wide eyes, his hands frozen when they had just a moment ago been drying the plate you’d handed him. He has some nerve, pretending he’s the victim when he’s spent the entire evening insulting you. This is supposed to be a wholesome moment of domesticity— doing the dishes together before he has to disappear to a late-night gala— so why is he ruining it? Ever since you got home, it’s been: so how was your day, stupid? Hey, stupid, want a hand washing up?

He said he was fine with you sitting out the gala tonight, but maybe he’s not.

“I’ll do this,” you finish, lifting a palmful of suds from the sink and raising them to your lips, ready to blow.

“Puh-lease, you bought me this suit. You really think I can’t tell when you’re bluff— hey, wait! Stop!”

You do blow the bubbles at him, and he recoils, holding the plate and dishcloth up to defend himself. He blocks some of them, but not all of them. “Honestly, Raf, if you’re not ok with me skipping out on tonight then you can just say so.”  

He puts the plate gently aside. “I mean, of course I’m sad you’re not coming,” he thinks aloud as he sets about sweeping bubbles from his suit, “but I’m ok with it, really. You’ve had, like, a crazy week at work. You deserve a quiet night in.”

Compassion? Really? After you just—? Ugh. “So why were you being so mean, then?” you sigh, taking the cloth from him and dabbing away the bubbles he’s missed.

“Mean?”

“You’ve called me ‘stupid’ like fifty times in the span of, what— three hours?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs innocently. “Because you told me to.”

Huh? You stop what you’re doing. “Since when did I—”

He reaches over your shoulder and you feel fingers on your back. “See?” he answers, bringing a piece of paper in front of you. It looks like it’s been torn hastily from a notebook, and it says, in bold, capital letters: ‘CALL ME STUPID!!’

You take the note from Rafayel sheepishly, your lips parted in surprise. How did it—? Wait. “Those kids!” you exclaim, thinking back on your walk home from work. “Oh I knew they were spouting bullshit when they said they saw a Wanderer!”

Your dish-washing companion doesn’t seem impressed by your lightbulb moment. He’s watching you, confusion etched across his face, but you can see right through it. “Rafayel!” you slap a soapy hand to his chest, “you had to call me stupid that many times before telling me?”

“I thought you wrote it. Pet names can be weird sometimes— I don’t know what you’re into.”

He’s still acting. Still lying. Fine, two can play at that game.  

You fall deathly silent, turning back to the sink to retrieve the bowl you’d dropped in there the last time he’d called you your new ‘pet name’. “I guess it suits me,” you mumble, half to yourself.

“What d’you mean, cutie?”

He can call you cutie as many times as he wants; you’re out for blood. You give the bowl another once-over with a sponge. “Some hunter I am. Can’t even tell when some kids are messing with me.”

Rafayel frowns. “Hey, it’s been a long week, yeah? You’re just tired.”

“Tired,” you echo, and you drop the bowl back into the water with a dramatic plop. “Tired? No. I’m exhausted. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work, there’s always… something. To make me feel like an idiot. To make me feel… stupid.”

“Hey,” Rafayel tries again, and his voice is fraught with worry. “Don’t say stuff like that. You’re not stupid. I’m stupid. I’m supposed to make you feel better and instead I was just screwing around. I’m sorry, ok? Don’t be sad. Please?”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, resting his chin on the top of your head. You don’t give in, not at first, but then you hug him back. “Thanks, Raf. I’m ok— really.” You hear his phone buzz from where he’s left it on the counter. “You should go. Thomas will kill you if you’re late.”

“Nah, he needs me,” the artist chuckles. “You get first dibs, though. You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“Yeah,” you laugh quietly back; your heart not quite in it. “Quiet night in, remember? Go on. Go.”

He steps away from you, though not before planting a light kiss on your cheek. “I’ll make it up to you when I get home,” he says, collecting his phone and the rest of his things. He gives you another kiss when he’s done, dodging your efforts to shoo him away. “Miss you already, cutie.”

“Go!”

And he does as he’s told this time, no matter how listlessly. It’s sweet he wants to stay and make things better, but he already has— he just doesn’t know it yet. It wasn’t the hug. It wasn’t the apology. You lean back against the counter with a smirk, savouring the view as he leaves.

It might have something to do with the note you’ve stuck on his back.

…

Rafayel retrieves the note the moment he closes the door behind him, stuffing it smugly into his pocket. He’ll have a story ready for you, by the time he gets home, about just how much you humiliated him. About how he walked around for a good hour before Thomas spotted the note and gave him a lecture about his ‘image’.

He smiles to himself; he’s a really good boyfriend.

Sylus 🩸

“You should know better than to keep me waiting, sweetie.”

Oh, great. This is just what you need.

You peek over the saddle of your motorcycle from where you’re crouched behind it. “Hey, Sylus,” you greet. The man is watching you, his arms folded. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Sorry?” he repeats, an eyebrow raised sceptically. “What— no ‘patience is a virtue, Sylus,’ no ‘oh please, Sylus, we both know you’ve nothing better to do?’”

You had disappeared behind your bike again, but you steal another glance at him. “Wow,” you marvel, “is this what you did before we met? Have arguments with yourself?”

“More or less,” he smiles dryly, then shrugs: “I’m not bad, as far as sparring partners go. You of all people can vouch for that. Besides, what were my other options? Mephisto?” He laughs. “Luke and Kieran?” He laughs harder.

“I’d rate Mephisto above you,” you add distractedly, no longer looking at him.

“Is that right?” he purrs, and it’s very obvious he doesn’t believe you.

He sounds close— too close— so you stand, re-entering his eyeline so he doesn’t come closer. Gods, this is embarrassing. Those stupid kids; he’s gonna have a field day if he finds out. “Yeah.” You wipe your hands slowly with a cloth, disguising the fact that your mind is scrambling. “The things that bird comes up with, just… scathing, honestly. Emotionally devastating.”

“Oh really?” Sylus tuts. “That’s awful. I can’t imagine where he gets it from.”

You smile back at him, resting your hands on your hips. You do feel bad, actually; you’d completely forgotten you were supposed to meet him this morning for breakfast before work. He’d received no texts to cancel. No calls. How long was he waiting at that sweet little café you’d picked out?

Then again, this morning isn’t really going to your plan, either.

“Something wrong with your bike?” he asks, because he’s already figured out that much. “Besides the usual, I mean.”

Your smile drops. Your whole act drops. “It’s nothing, Sylus.”

“You’ve already stood me up this morning, sweetie. Are you really going to lie to me, too?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. Fine. “Some kids graffitied it, ok?”

“This piece of junk? Really?” He toes the front wheel of it, then catches onto the withering look you’re sending him. “Oh no,” he tries again, with absolutely no enthusiasm, “what a dreadful crime against such an advanced, state-of-the-art vehicle.”

Prick. You keep the label behind tight lips as he wanders around the motorcycle to join you, assessing the damage. You’re stood by a bucket of water and the litany of rags you’ve used to try to scrub it clean— each one a testament to your failure. The sight alone makes you want to burst into tears. The skin of your hands is pink. Raw.

You feel cheated; you wish you were at that café right now.

Sylus taps a finger against his cheek, eyes narrowed pensively. They’re spoiled for choice of what to look at: misspelt obscenities, a generous number of crude symbols. All in permanent marker, naturally. “An improvement, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wouldn’t say. No.”

“Art is subjective.”

“Yeah? So is your face.” Not your best effort. Sylus glances up at you, amused. “Shut up,” you dismiss proactively. “Besides, this is my work vehicle. I can’t ride around Linkon on this. It would be—”

“Too staggering a blow to your professional reputation,” he finishes like he’s bored.

“This isn’t funny, Sylus.”

He points at a particularly chaotic drawing of a penis. “It is.”

You smack his hand away. “It’s not.” Your voice wobbles, ever so slightly betraying you. This is serious; you could get in trouble. You stare down at the graffiti, despair setting in.

Keys dangle in front of your eyes. “Here. Borrow my bike.”

“You’re joking, right?” You swat at them. “You really think that’s gonna help? Me— rolling up to work on a bike that costs twice my annual salary?”

“Twice? That’s cute, kitten.”

You glare at him, any guilt you felt about standing him up long gone. “Can you just stop? Being you? For like, two seconds? Please? This is the last thing I need today, Sylus. I’m gonna be late. I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of everyone. And worst of all? I was actually looking forward to seeing you this morning. Before all of this—” you gesture dejectedly at your bike— “all of this shit happened.”

Sylus is looking back at you, his arms crossed again. He does nothing for a few, slow seconds, and it’s just long enough to make you feel like you’re overreacting. Then he leans over, running a hand across your bike, and you watch as the graffiti flakes and lifts, turning to ash under the influence of his Evol.

He brushes his hands together when he’s done, straightening with a hmph and a self-satisfied smirk. Content (more than content— thoroughly impressed with himself) he turns back to you. Your bottom lip has dropped in surprise and he chuckles, reaching a finger to lift your chin. “You can thank me later, sweetie, and I intend to spend the entire day thinking about how you might. Don’t disappoint me, hmm?”  

You’re still silent, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re bristling with something other than awe and adoration. He frowns. “Sweetie?”

The second ‘sweetie’ breaks you, and not in the way he wants. You slap his chest, hard; he doesn’t really feel it.

“Sylus! You could have done that the whole time?!”

Caleb 🍎

“Sit still, dear.”

Sit still? How are you supposed to sit still when you’re brimming with rage? Every inch of your body is tense, waiting, yearning for you to spring into action. It wants you to retaliate. It wants revenge.

“I can’t, Grandma,” you whine, crossing your arms as if to hold yourself back. You’re still fidgeting on the chair as she navigates your hair with her scissors. “This sucks. Everything sucks. The only thing that could make this worse is if—”

You hear the front door swing open, then closed. Why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut?

Sure enough, Caleb strolls into the kitchen mere moments later. “What��s happenin’ here?” he asks, dropping a bag of groceries onto the countertop.

“Nothing,” you mumble. “Grandma’s giving me a haircut, that’s all.”

“Ok. So what’s actually happening here?” he tries again. He’s known you forever, after all; he can tell when you’re lying.

You swing a foot out at his shin as he tries to step closer. Nuh-uh. No investigating. No sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. “Nothing,” you hiss again. “Gods, Caleb. What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem, pipsqueak.” He uses his foot to push yours away. “At least Gran’s on my side—” his amethyst eyes seek her— “can you tell me what’s going on? Please? Pretty please?”

A hand breaks their eye contact. “You don’t have to answer that, Grandma.” You glare Caleb down. “The DAA has no authority here.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

Grandma sighs; she’s had far too many years of this. “You know Mr and Mrs. Lee’s children? Down the road? Well, they—”

“Grandma!” You round on her. How long did she last— all of three seconds? You bitterly regard Caleb, your voice dark with resentment: “They put gum in my hair, ok?”

“Really?”

“Yeah." He wanted the truth, didn’t he? “They lured me in with some nonsense about a Wanderer. I didn’t realise until, well, until…” You wave at your hair. “Too late.”

He considers the story, then shrugs. It’s clearly not as thrilling as he was anticipating, because he disappears from the kitchen, leaving you and Grandma in peace once more. The silence is as uncomfortable as it is sudden. You’d expected laughter— a lot of laughter. Teasing. Maybe even a shot at how gullible you are.

You release an uneasy breath, resting your head back on the chair.

“Sit still,” Grandma repeats, nudging you, prompting you to sit up straight. “I’ve almost got it. Just one more… here!” There’s a decisive snip.

“Thanks, Grandma.” You slump again, staring up at the ceiling.

You’re not sure what you’re waiting for. Maybe for the blush of your cheeks to cool, or for a Wanderer to spring out of the floor, killing you, so you can be dead and not so embarrassed. You hear heavy footsteps— Caleb returning— and you really wish the Wanderer would hurry up.

“Caleb…” Grandma’s tone is wary. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”  

You readjust your head so you can look at him. He’s clutching what must be a dozen rolls of toilet paper; they’re piled up to just below his chin, almost spilling out over his arms. “How about it, pipsqueak?” he asks as he struggles to balance them. “A little team-up between the DAA and The Association— wanna do your part in reclaiming your neighbourhood?”

Now that’s more like it. “Fuck yes! Sorry, Grandma.”

You’re really as bad as each-other. She tuts reproachfully as you leap out of your chair, and she's disappointed, but not surprised.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)

Thanks!

@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗

Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader

⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death

For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before.  Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?

That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.  

Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301. 

How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.

Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.

What were you thinking?

You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.

You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU. 

At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all. 

You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul. 

You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.

You have a secret. 

You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin. 

This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.

“Stop, Alex.”

“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”

“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”

He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.

Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face. 

“John! Stop!” 

Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?

You get the inkling that wolf is jealous. 

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.

Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.

John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say. 

“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.

Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.

He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.

“You’re trying to get me killed.”

You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.

“Milaya…” 

It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.

Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles. 

He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.

Until now.

You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt. 

“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”

The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance. 

You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you. 

“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.” 

He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You said–”

“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”

You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do. 

He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders. 

“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours. 

Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper. 

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.  

Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom. 

This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified. 

However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire. 

“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts. 

This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too. 

You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.  

Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin. 

Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later. 

Like maybe, tomorrow. 

“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…” 

If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired. 

“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.

He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”

“You know what I mean.” 

“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.” 

Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.

“Oh, John…”  

He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.” 

You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too. 

“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both. 

You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld. 

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask. 

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze. 

“Oh come on.” 

“Fine. I like Paris a lot.” 

“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done.  You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.

Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?

[pedropascallme]

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 2: Thigh riding

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) thigh riding, little bit of dirty talk, this came out so much fluffier than I'd intended but I'm not mad about it, if I missed anything please let me know!

He didn’t turn to look at you when you walked into the cockpit—didn’t so much as flinch when he heard your steps on the metal floor. He could see your reflection in the transparisteel, your soft shape reflecting off the canopy of the cockpit and into his visor.

“Mesh’la…” He breathed it through the modulator. You smiled as you closed the gap between yourself and him; wrapping you body around the back of his chair, splaying your hands on his chest and joining him in looking into the nothingness of hyperspace.

“How did you know it was me and not the kid?” You leaned your head against his helmet.

He didn’t respond, but you had a feeling that somewhere under all the metal, he was smiling.

“You know, sometimes I worry that you have the same freaky powers that he does.” You continued, dragging your hands over the armor on his abdomen. You knew he couldn’t feel it, but it was more for your own benefit.

“Why is that?” Even through the modulator, you could hear the gravelly amusement in his voice.

“You know too much.” You smiled, removing yourself from him to stand in his line of sight.

“Do I?”

He was goading you, in his own way. Maybe to someone else it would seem like the vague, brief response typical of a Mandalorian, but you knew he was working towards something. And it made you falter just a bit.

“Sometimes…” You shrugged, the shy smile on your face was directed towards your feet as you spoke.

“Just because I know you well, doesn’t mean I know too much.” He still hadn’t moved, letting you stew in uncertainty and the glare of the gaze you couldn’t see.

There was a pause then. You considered the weight of his words.

He was right. He did know you well. Your scent, your touch, your taste—he knew it all, better than anybody else ever had.

But beyond that, he recognized what you wanted, how you wanted it, even when it was something simple and would be, to many, seemingly unnecessary.

It just startled you to have someone—especially someone like Din—put in the effort.

“Did you come up here for something?” He broke the silence, pulling you back in.

“You weren’t in bed. I just figured you’d be here.” You played with your hands. “How long are we going to stay in hyperspace?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’ll see.”

“Ok,” you nodded, and despite his apparent standoffishness, you knew it was just Din being Din. It was simply how he was.

You knew he’d crawl back into bed eventually, when the thoughts stopped racing and he could take the time to appreciate your weight and heat against him.

You turned to leave, and he finally decided to move.

“Mesh’la,” his hand caught you by the stomach, forcing you to hang back. You looked down at him, bringing your hand up to cradle his. “Come.”

You took a step back, rounding the chair to stand in front of him. He spread his legs, situating himself comfortably and easing you into a straddle over one of his thighs. You leaned into his chest, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“You don’t want to sit and enjoy the quiet?” You asked, almost rhetorically, “Just look at the stars pass by on your own?”

You felt his hand come to rest on your lower back before he dragged it down over the curve of your ass and began to knead gently over your bed clothes.

“You came here for something.” It wasn’t a question this time. His hand swept upward, palm pressing into your back to force your body flush against him.

“Did I?” You held out, if only for a moment longer, just to see where it would get you. “You’re the one who knows me so well. You’ll have to be specific…”

He craned his neck to lean his forehead against yours, and his helmet pushed into your skin in a manner almost verging tenderness.

“Move your hips, mesh’la.” It was all he said before leaning back, removing his hands from you and opting to simply watch on.

“Din…” You whined, but your halfhearted protest didn’t stop you from doing as he said. You swayed your hips over his thigh, sliding over his armor and wrapping your hands around his neck.

He didn’t say anything, but his head tilted back slightly.

“I can’t,” you tried to argue, tried to get him to take pity on you so that he would put in the work and let you feel him. “Please—too smooth, it’s not enough.”

“Doesn’t seem to be stopping you from trying.” He growled, and he was right; you continued to grind your hips against him in a desperate attempt to find the friction you needed.

Your pleas caught in your throat, morphing into a whimper.

“You complain every time,” Din caved only a little, placing a hand on your hip, thumb brushing the dimple where your thigh met your abdomen, “But what always happens?”

You moaned into his neck, letting the metal that adorned him amplify your sounds.

“What always happens?” He pressed on, slowly beginning to push and pull on your hips in an attempt to help you.

“I cum,” you whispered it, a dirty secret meant just for him. “I always cum for you.”

He let out a deep hum, and you complied with the pressure his fingers dug into your skin; slowing your movements and allowing him to set the pace as he dragged you across the beskar.  

“Relax,” it was a command, one you obeyed immediately as you melted against him, giving in completely to his hands on your body and letting him put in the work for you. Arms still slung over his shoulders, you hands fell lower on his back, searching for purchase.

You could feel your slick coating his leg beneath you, the raw chill of the hardware that protected him absorbing your heat and making for a smoother ride. He pushed your hips back, tilting you forward and ensuring that your clit felt the stimulation of his thigh beneath you with every tug of your body towards him.

“Din—” Your mewl was barely audible beneath the thrum of the ship surrounding you, but he heard you.

He knew.

He raised his leg slightly, pushing it up with his toes and flexing under the beskar to give him the leverage to push you down hard against him.

You came with a weak gasp, clawing at his back and letting your fingernails drag lazily over his armor. He gently paralleled your movements, gloved hands rubbing shapes into your back.

Your head felt light, but your limbs rested heavy as you sagged against him.

“Wasn’t so hard.” His hands stopped moving, coming to rest on your thighs where they were still spread around his leg.

“Only because you helped,” you sighed, “Only because it’s you.”

That earned you a squeeze, possessive but chaste, where his hand sat on your leg. You squeaked out a happy response.

You began to stir after a few minutes, the slick between your legs creating a gluey tension between your bodies.

“I should check on him,” you started to move, separating yourself from Din, “If he’s up, he’ll be hungry.”

Your attempts to stand were thwarted as Din wrapped an arm around your waist. “He’s still asleep.”

“How do you know?” You let him pull you back towards him, repositioning you to straddle his waist rather than just one leg.

“Freaky powers.” Din’s visor bore into you, and for a moment you felt like you could see his eyes—big and brown, just as he had described them to you.

You laughed, the intimacy and his wit sparking something deep within you, as it always did, and your body came to rest again, slumped against him.

“Stay, cyar’ika.” The quiet request only served to magnify the feeling he’d sparked inside you.

“Don’t have to beg, Din,” you grinned, lips creating streaks on his armor and your breath fogged the metal on his chest. “I will.”

[wlfchnlv3r]

I read all your fictions and they’re so good my lord😭Can I request Virgin!Han x Femreader?? 🫶🏻

(Daje Roma Italians uniteee💪🙂‍↕️)

Not as sweet as you

Roommates!fem reader x Virgin! Han

Synopsis: You and Han became roommates a few months ago, he is a very shy guy and a bit of nerd, but you two get along so well.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: cute like hell Han, smut and fluff, sex! Mdni!, 🔞, handjob and boh.

Note: small waist!Han is so hot.

As soon as you enter the living room you start hearing some unusual noises from Han’s room.

He probably didn’t expect you to be home this early.

You get closer to his room and you finally understand what are this “noises”, moans, definitely moans. A smirk appear as you clear your throat and knock at the door “Han, everything is ok?” you ask quietly.

Hearing the knock at the door he suddenly stopped what he was doing and quickly tried to fix himself “What? Y-yes”.

“You sure? Can I come in?” You slowly open the door and watch his figure under the sheets.

Han tries to look decent, but it was obvious he was in the middle of... something “y-yeah i'm fine..! just u-um studying... yeah studying..." he quickly responds.

You just smile and nod “Yeah- I… see”.

He suddenly become flustered, he knew what he was doing was obvious, and he tries to hide his blush but his soft cheeks made it hard to hide.

“Don’t worry- it’s- don’t be shy” you say smiling a little.

He couldn't help but feel the embarrassment building inside him, he looks at you and see your smile, the blush on his face becomes more visible "i-i…i'm not shy..." he said quietly.

“So you don't mind if I join you, right?” You tease him.

Han has a surprise expression on his face and becomes speechless for a moment "w-wait huh? i-im...uh..." he does not know what to say and just looks at you with shook.

His mind is now racing and the thought of you joining him makes him a bit excited.

“So cute Han, just let me help you…” you know he is not your “type” but you are so attracted by him anyway.

Han bites his lip, his look slowly turns to one of desire with pleading eyes and a growing blush on his face "a-are you sure...?".

You just nod, “it’s ok, I promise” you reassure him.

He slowly makes room between him, allowing some space for you to sit next to him "o-okay... then come here..." he watches as you sit down and he couldnt help but look at your body, getting a bit more excited.

You catch him scanning your body and chuckle “Mh you have to come closer hannie”.

Han is surprised hearing you call him a nickname, it makes his heart skip a beat.

He obeys you and gets a bit closer to you, a bit faster than he intends to "like this..?" he asks whispering.

You pull him more closer “just on top of me, like this…”.

His eyes widens as you suddenly pull him closer. he felt a bit flustered from the close proximity as he was now between your legs "y-yeah... just like this...".

“It’s… ok if I kiss you?” you search for his consent.

That is so unexpected for him, but he looks at you with an excited and shy look "kiss me?.. y-yeah... go ahead...".

You gently cup his cheeks, and close the distance between you two, kissing him slowly.

He closes his eyes as he feels your soft and warm lips on his. his heart is racing from all the excitement and he slowly returns the kiss, his hands resting on your waist pulling you closer to him.

“you are so sweet Hannie…” you speak between the kiss.

Han smiles softly when you call him by the nickname again and he gently runs his hand through your hair, you could feel the heat from his body; He is getting more excited "i-i...i think you're much sweeter... y/n".

As you hear his words you immediately pull him closer to on top of you.

Han lets out a quiet moan as you pull him closer. he buries his face in your neck, nuzzling and kissing your soft skin gently.

You let out a soft moan “mhh-“.

Han continues to leave gentle kisses on your neck, moving up to your ear. His hands slowly moves down your torso, gripping your hips "g-god... i need you so bad...".

You pull back a little just to see the blush on his face, “so cute…”, and begin to caress you thumb on his bottom lip.

He gasps softly as you touch his lips.

He looks up at you and opens his mouth for your thumb, gently taking it in and sucking it slowly.

A shiver runs down your spine “god- Han…”.

Han slowly swirls his tongue around your thumb, his eyes looking at you with an intense look.

After a moment he let go of your thumb "you're driving me insane...fuck... you don't know what you're doing to me..." he says slowly.

You watch him just for a few seconds before starting to kiss his neck roughly.

He tilts his head, giving you more access to his neck and a few more soft moans escapes his mouth "mmmh...you're gonna leave marks..." he whispers to you.

“It’s ok for you…?”.

Han thinks for a moment, then quickly nods; he is so desperate for you, he wouldnt resist anything you do at this point "y-yeah... leave marks...” before he finishes his sentence you nip and begin to leave purple hickeys on his neck.

“Y-you know- an hickey is just- just a bruise…and…and it’s caused by capillaries’s damage-“ he let out a soft yet shaky moan “-that… causes your capillaries to leak blood…and- and it doesn't have anywhere to go.” As soon as he finishes the explanation you laugh a bit.

Han just bites his lip, trying not to moan too loud.

“I want to hear you, sweetheart”

Han lets out a shaky breath, and pulls you closer against his body. he leans down again to your ear, whispering to you "you're t-teasing me... i-i want you so bad...g-goddd...you dont know what you're doing to me...".

“God- you are so innocent and cute as hell”.

He is a bit embarrassed from your words but he couldnt help feeling excited, desperate and eager for your touch; he looks at you with a flushed face and pleading eyes before saying "y-you're making me feel t-things i've never felt before... i-i...".

You give him a quick kiss smiling “I want to make you feel good…”.

Han bites his lip, and he nods slowly "y-yes... please...i want more..." he pulls you against his body, his hands slowly starts to wander on your curves.

The intimacy starts growing between you two and you take off his hoodie with a quick movement, he lifts his arms to help you take his hoodie off fully, his body revealed right in front of you.

It was now, that you notice his slender yet firm and lean physique; His waist is small, you could almost wrap your hands around it and he had muscular and defined arms “you are gorgeous sweetheart”.

Han looks at you, his eyes slowly trailing down from your face to your body, examining you; he was clearly very attracted to you "y-you're the one who's gorgeous here... god i cant keep my hands off you...and- I don’t know what to do”.

“Just- undress me…”you speak in a low tone.

He slowly pulls at the hem of your shirt and lifts it up, slowly taking it off for you; His face heats up as he took it off, revealing your body.

His eyes are focused on your curves, his gaze lingering on your exposed body; he touches your body slowly, his hands running up and down your sides, before wrapping his arms around your waist “god- you are so pretty y/n”.

You smile for his compliment before speaking again “what if i take off your pants..?”.

Han lets out a soft, shaky breathe, hearing your request. he looks at you in the eye with a mixture of pleading and excitement "m...mmh...yes, go ahead... p-please...".

You start to lower his pants and boxers and he lifts his hips slightly to help you with it. He is now naked in front of you, and visibly excited.

You bite down your bottom lip looking at him.

Han’s breaths is becoming quicker and shaky and your reaction alone was driving him insane.

He gently cups your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him before looking in your eyes with a soft yet somewhat needy look; his other hand slowly rubbing your thigh "p-please... touch me more..." he pleads.

You start to rub you finger on his hard tip, hearing him curse a little just increase your excitement “shh, now… tell me what were you doing earlier…”.

Han lets out a few shaky breaths, his head resting on your shoulder; it is almost as if he is using you to hide his flushed face "i-i... w-was thinking of you... and touching myself..”he mumbles into your shoulder.

“Really..?” You smile a little hearing his words.

Han is still hiding his face, feeling really embarrassed and he slowly nods in response to your question, still clinging on to you tightly.

“I- i want to see you touching yourself…” you suddenly ask.

He lifts his head up, looking at you with a shy look and bits his lip.

He is hesitant at first but he nods slowly too worked up at this point and in desperately needs for some relief.

Han slowly lets go of you to lets you watch him; he leans back a bit on the bed, and slowly starts to touch his hard cock.

You just look at him with a smirk on your face; he makes an effort to keep eye contact, but he is way too shy for that.

You really want him, you can’t help it “want to feel you inside me… please” you almost plead and finish to undress yourself, pulling off your skirt and panties.

Han looks at you and let out a quiet moan; his tongue quickly came out to wet his dry lips "g-god you're so hot...".

You pull him on top of you and between your legs, again “... have you ever have sex hannie?”.

He is now basically laying on top of you, looking at you with a flushed face (he didn't expect to be on top so suddenly), but he quickly adjusts himself for comfort and he shakes his head slowly "no l haven't... I'm a v-virgin..." he admits.

“Ehi- don’t worry, l'm gonna help you a little ok?” you reassure him softly.

Han is thankful for your kindness and patience with him and he nods at your words, trying to keep a steady breath "okay... p-please help me..".

You rub his cock tip and position it in front of your cunt, guiding him.

He is getting really desperate now, he can’t believe he is actually here, laying between your legs, about to lose his virginity.

Han bites his lip, his breaths shaky as he looks at you, then down at your body in front of him "please... c-can i-?" he pleads.

“Y-yes- you..can move” you say in a whisper.

He takes a shaky breath, gripping the cushions for support; his dick pressing against your entrance, he looks up at giving you another kiss before slowly and gently starting to push inside.

You moan a little “you- you ok..?” you ask.

Han lets out a shaky breath when he hears your moa, it sounds so good to his ears

he looks at you and nods "y-yeah I'm okay... just going slow".

He pushes his length in deeper slowly, taking in deep breaths as he feel himself being surrounded by your warmth walls.

It is all so new to him and it feel so good that he is almost losing it; Han looks at you, his eyes slightly closing from pleasured sensations.

“Good- you are doing so good…” you whine.

He smiles a bit; he was very nervous and he is glad to hear you say that "r-really..? s-should i keep going...?" he shyly asks.

“Yes- please yes…”.

Han is desperate now, and he is so eager to keep going to please you.

He begin to move in and out of you, the sensation was so new to him that he struggled to keep a steady rhythm; his breaths were quick and shaky, broken moans escaping from his mouth, not even trying to keep them under control.

You cup his face trying to kiss him not in a sloppy way.

Han immediately melts into your kiss, his hand coming up to hold your face as well. He is starting to lose himself in the sensations as he deepened the kiss, his tongue licking your bottom lip, entering your mouth.

“God- Han you feel so good inside me.. want more” you moan between the kiss.

His pace slowly starts to get faster and "f-fuck... you are so tight- i- i just don’t know how long i can last…”

Both your moans fill the room with him saying random pleas and begging words.

After a moment he reaches his orgasm right before you.

Han feels and hears you finish and it’s all so new to him and he is so overwhelmed by the pleasure, he can’t control it and buries his face in your neck; he laid on top of you, feeling weak and exhausted from his orgasm.

After a few minutes he pulls out of you and lays down holding you against him.

“You did so good sweetheart… really good”.

Han is still shaking a little from his orgasm, but hearing your praise put a smile on his face; he looks at you, with an almost exhausted but satisfied look on his face "r-really? b-but I finished so quickly...".

“Ehi- don’t worry…it was your first time” you say as you hug him tightly.

He lays his head on your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart. it was very soothing and relaxing, but he was also still feeling clingy, and didn't want to let go of you

“What about we go take a shower?Then I'll change the sheets” you suggest.

Han lifts his head and looks up at you with a needy look, he wants to stay as close to you as possible but nods “okay... but can we shower together? I don't want to let go of you yet..."

Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse @eastjonowhere

(Comment to be added to the taglist🎐)

[jobean12-blog]

Promise Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 1,080

Summary: Joel is not happy when he finds out you left to go search for something and didn't tell him...

Author's Note: Just a little angry (but soft always) Joel because he's overly protective and needs you to be ok. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angsty bits here and there but only bc Joel is protective and you're his, softness, spicyness and some fluff

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

Joel shoots to his feet with a string of grumbled expletives, intending to go out and start his second search of the day when he hears the sound of soft footfalls on the stairs.

His heart starts to beat wildly as he waits to see who’s at the door. It opens to reveal you, looking as beautiful as ever, and with that his anger reaches its boiling point.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Your entire body startles with a strangled scream and you drop something to the floor. You back up against the wall and search for some light, finally noticing him seconds later.

“Oh my god Joel! Are you crazy?”

Some of his anger deflates at your panicked tone, but not all.

“I’m not the crazy one! Crazy would be leaving for half the damn day and not tellin’ me where you’re off to!”

With a scoff you reach down to pick up what fell from your hands. “I didn’t know I had to report all my comings and goings to you!”

His chest heaves with his labored breathing and he steps closer.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” he warns.

You stay silent as you stuff the contents of your hand into your jacket pocket, trying to skirt past him and into the small space you call home.

He’s had enough, stopping your progress with a firm hand on your waist.

He spins you around until you’re caged against the counter, his arms resting on either side of you, and leans in close.

“Where. The. Hell. Have. You. Been? I’m not goin’ to ask again darlin’.”

You get right in his face.

“I went looking for something ok! And I found it. And I’m fine.”

His eyes sweep over you, assessing you so closely you feel stripped bare.

He doesn’t move away but heaves a yielding sigh of your name.

Your expression softens with a frown and when his head drops toward his chest you tentatively reach for his jaw, pressing your fingers to the patchy scruff to lift his eyes to yours again.

“Joel?”

“I...,” he starts quietly. “I thought somethin’ happened to you!,” he says, much louder now.

His agonized eyes meet yours and after a moment’s hesitation, he speaks again.

“Believe it or not, I care about you. More than you know. The last few hours have been pure hell, darlin.’ You think it’s funny to scare the shit out of me?”

“No,” you answer quietly. “I don’t think it’s funny and I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Then why were you gone all day angel?” he demands.

“Well…I,” you begin hesitantly, then blow out a breath. “I wanted to find some crayons! I found a coloring book the other day but I have no crayons! It took longer than I expected. I thought I would be back before you even missed me.”

When he just stares at you blankly you continue talking, your voice barely above a whisper when you ask, “do you want to color with me?”

He remains quiet and you add, “I’m sorry.”

He nods and slides his hand into your pocket, carefully pulling out the worn box of crayons.

“All that for some crayons?” he muses softly.

“I love to color,” you say with a small shrug. “Don’t be mad.”

Resolute in his anger he doesn’t reply but keeps you caged in, his eyes dropping to your lips.

With tentative movements you brush the fallen hair from his forehead and trace the line of his jaw before pressing a kiss just under his ear.

“I promise I won’t do it again.”

Another kiss, this time lingering on his neck.

He can feel his defenses slipping and against his better judgement he leans into your touch, the feel of you threatening to completely topple his anger.

Your hands start to trail down his chest toward his stomach but he grasps them, dragging you into his embrace.

“Say it again,” he growls. “Promise me you’ll never leave me like that. Never again.”

“I promise Joel.”

He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing the inside of your wrist then letting the other hand slide down your back, satisfied when your breath hitches in your throat.

“Good,” he murmurs, pressing you against his body, lining you up with every inch of him.

A roll of his hips lets you feel his need and your eyes close, parting on a moan.

“Are you still mad?” you ask. “We could color? It might help you relax.”

His head dips slowly, his warm breath fanning your lips before he closes the distance and cuts off your surprised gasp with his mouth. He grabs the back of your neck and commands the kiss, only deepening it when you bite his bottom lip.

His possessive growl is followed by a question spoken directly against your parted, swollen lips.

“Do you see what you do to me?”

His breath shudders in and out, sounding loud in the quietness surrounding you. He works open the button of your jeans, then slips his big hand down the inside of your panties.

“Next time you need somethin’ you come to me,” he says. “I’ll give you everything you need.”

Your head rolls back and your eyelashes flutter against your cheek, your breathy affirmation driving his fingers right where you want them.

He leans down and brushes his lips to the shell of your ear.

“I protect what’s mine.”

The next morning, by the soft glow of the rising sun, you sit on the makeshift bed, your back to Joel’s chest and your knees pulled up with the coloring book resting on them.

“I forgot how small these things are.”

You study his hand. Long, thick fingers dwarfing the green crayon held between them.

“Nah. Your hands are just really big,” you purr. “And I lo…”

“Yeah, yeah. I know angel. You love ‘em.”

“I love, love, love them!” you exclaim, feeling his light chuckle.

You snuggle closer to his warmth and rest your head back along his chest.

“You have to stay inside the lines,” you playfully chide.

“Well, it’s not that easy from this position!” he shoots back.

“I can move over here…”

He tightens his grip, not allowing you to move an inch out of his arms.

“Don’t. I need to keep you close.”

“Forever?” you ask with a giggle.

He gently grasps your chin and tilts your head back to meet his eyes, his expression fierce.

“Forever angel.”

@hiddles-rose @lizette50 @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Hello! I stumbled across your post about requests opening for certain Rings of Power characters, and I'd love to request one for Gil-galad, if that's okay!

The reader is Elrond's sister, and was taken in by Gil-galad when she was an elfling after Sirion (just like Elros and Elrond). Could you write something that begins in angst and ends in fluff? Like, for example, Gil-galad has been trying to convince himself that he's not falling for the reader (but he is), and one day she goes on a patrol with Elrond and a few other elves. She gets grievously hurt, and is rushed back to the palace by her overprotective brother Elrond. Gil-galad is incredibly concerned, and the love and grief comes rushing to the forefront. He's got to watch her scream in pain as she's being healed by Elrond. When she gets better, the High King professes his love and asks her to court him. A timeskip and a brief mention of them getting married at the end and facing the hardships of Second Age Middle Earth together? Because Eru knows we need some fluff and happy endings!

Thanks a lot, and apologies for the long request!

Hello there! I combined this with another ask I received about our lovely High King! I'm going to make a part 2 that is going to address their happily ever after and maybe some spicey time.... for now, here you go!

zoya-olenka asked:

Ok and the other one, reader and Gil Galad are always clashing during their interactions until the tension is too much and well, we know what follows. I'll leave it to you to set the scenery. I'm sure I'll love anything you come up with!

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

Lovely Thorn

You sit across from Gil-galad at the war council, the map of Middle-earth spread out between you on the heavy oak table. The room is filled with advisors and generals, all eyes turned to the High King as he discusses the latest reports from the patrols. Your heart pounds in your chest, and not because of the looming threat of war.

"I still believe we should patrol further south," you say, folding your arms across your chest. "The enemy could be gaining ground there, and if we don’t act now, we risk losing control of the entire region."

Gil-galad raises an eyebrow, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "Moving south would leave Lindon exposed. I will not risk the heart of our people for a gamble on a dark servant that Galadriel herself cannot seem to find."

"It’s not a gamble," you argue, your voice sharper than intended. "It is a calculated risk, and one we must take if we’re to stand a chance protecting the people of this world."

The room goes silent, all eyes flicking between you and the High King. This isn’t the first time you’ve challenged him in public, and it certainly won’t be the last. His calm, unflinching demeanor only serves to irritate you more. How can he be so maddeningly composed? And worse—how can he look so beautiful even when he’s infuriating you?

"Perhaps," Gil-galad says after a long pause, "you would like to lead the army yourself, then? Since you seem to know so much more about warfare than my generals."

Heat rushes to your cheeks. "That’s not what I meant, and you know it!"

He leans back in his chair, the smirk still there. "I know what you are saying. But the decision is mine to make."

You grit your teeth, feeling the tension thick between you. The air seems heavier when he’s near, and no matter how much he irritates you, you can’t deny that every argument leaves you more flustered than the last.

"Fine," you mutter, finally relenting, though your mind still spins with frustration. "But when the darkness returns to our borders, remember that I warned you."

As you storm out of the room, you can feel his gaze lingering on you, and the sensation only makes your heart race faster.

—---------------------------

You’re standing in the middle of the throne room, arms crossed as you glare at Gil-galad. The council has just adjourned, but the two of you remain, still arguing over the trade agreements with Númenor. He stands with his arms behind his back, the picture of regal calm, while you’re nearly pacing with frustration.

"We need to offer them more, or they’ll break off the alliance," you insist, your tone exasperated. "You’re being too cautious, Ereinion!"

"And you’re being too reckless," he counters smoothly, his voice low but steady. "If we give Númenor too much, they’ll see it as a sign of weakness. We cannot afford to appear desperate."

"I’m not saying we should grovel," you snap, taking a step closer. "I’m saying we should meet them halfway, but you’re so stubborn!"

Gil-galad’s eyes narrow slightly, but that infuriating calm never leaves his face. "You think me stubborn, do you?"

"Yes!" The word bursts out of you before you can stop it. "You never listen to anyone else’s advice, not when it contradicts your own plans. You—" You falter as he takes a step closer, his gaze locked on yours with a sudden intensity that makes your breath catch. You’re close enough now to feel the heat radiating from him, the weight of his presence pressing down on you.

"And you think I don’t listen to you?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. His closeness, the way his gaze flickers down to your lips for just a fraction of a second—it all leaves you dizzy. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Instead, you turn sharply on your heel and walk out, your face burning, every nerve in your body on fire.

—---------------------------

Of all things to argue about, you hadn’t expected this. The grand banquet hall is prepared for an important delegation from the elven cities, and you’re standing with Gil-galad, going over the final seating arrangements. He points to one of the seats near the head of the table.

"Lady Galadriel should sit there," he says decisively.

You shake your head. "No, she should be closer to the center. That way, she can engage more easily with both the Galadhrim and the Lindon lords. She’ll feel isolated at the head."

Gil-galad sighs, rubbing his temple. "The head of the table is a place of honor. It shows respect."

"She won’t care about that," you insist, your voice rising slightly. "She cares about connection, not appearances."

"And what makes you think I don’t know what she cares about?" he says, turning to face you fully now, his brow furrowing. "I’ve known Galadriel for centuries."

"Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think," you counter, crossing your arms and standing your ground. You know you’re being difficult, but for some reason, every word out of his mouth today is setting you off. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, like you’re some puzzle he can’t quite solve. Maybe it’s the way he always manages to look so composed while you’re constantly flustered in his presence.

He takes a step closer, his gaze hardening, but his voice remains calm. "If memory serves, I am the High King, and the decision is mine."

Your heart pounds as he stands so close, his presence once again overwhelming you. You can smell the faint scent of pine and sea air on him, and you hate that even now, even in the middle of an argument, you can’t help but notice how maddeningly attractive he is.

"You always say that," you mutter, looking away, your face burning. "But sometimes I think you make these decisions just to frustrate me."

Gil-galad’s expression softens for just a moment, something unreadable passing through his eyes. "Perhaps," he says quietly, "I do."

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You glance up at him, your heart racing, but before you can say anything, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, flustered and confused once again.

—---------------------------

You walk down the quiet halls of the palace, your feet barely making a sound as you wander through the open corridors of Lindon. The sea breeze brushes against your face, carrying with it the familiar scent of salt and pine. You’re lost in thought today, the memories of Sirion still haunting the edges of your mind despite the many years that have passed. 

Your steps slow as you near one of the open council rooms. Two familiar voices filter through the air. Círdan and Gil-galad. Their tones are low but clear enough for you to hear.

“You are the High King of the Noldor, Ereinion. It is your duty to provide a legacy, to ensure the future of our people,” Círdan says with that calm, ancient wisdom in his voice.

There’s a pause, and then you hear Gil-galad’s reply, strained but resolute. “No one deserves that burden, Círdan. To be bound to me would be a life of endless war and worry. The darkness presses closer each day. How could I ask anyone to endure that?”

“You would not be asking. Someone would gladly bear it, if it meant standing beside you,” Círdan counters softly. “There are many who would fill the role, Ereinion. And, if I may speak freely, there is already someone fit.”

A silence follows, heavier than the words before it. You find yourself holding your breath, your heart beating faster for reasons you can’t quite place.

Gil-galad sighs, the sound laced with weariness. “No. There is no one fit for such a task. Not… not her. She deserves more than I can give. I can never ask her to share in this life.”

Her? It couldn’t be you. A sudden weight settles in your chest as your mind scrambles for an explanation. Gil-galad must be in love with someone else—some other elleth, far more graceful and fitting for a king. Perhaps all those charged moments between you—the arguments, the heated exchanges—were nothing more than misunderstandings, your own heart playing tricks on you. You’ve been a fool, misreading his every glance, every word. Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment floods you. Of course, the High King would never see you that way.

You quietly slip away from the door, your heart heavy, and find Elrond later that evening. Without revealing too much of your turmoil, you convince him to take you on the next patrol. Anything to clear your mind, to escape these tangled feelings. Elrond hesitates at first, but you press, insisting that some fresh air and a change of pace will help you regain your focus.

But as you ride out with the patrol, your thoughts remain clouded with questions about the mystery elleth. Who is she? Is she one of the noble ladies who frequently attends court? One of the warriors who catches Gil-galad’s eye during council? 

The wind whispers through the trees as your patrol moves cautiously through the dense forest. The air is tense, but your thoughts are elsewhere—drifting back to the conversation you overheard, the words replaying over and over. Who could she be? Gil-galad’s voice, so calm, so certain, echoes in your mind. Whoever she is, she has captured his heart, and that realization claws at you, leaving you distracted and heavy with emotion.

"Are you well?" Elrond’s voice pulls you from your reverie. He rides beside you, his sharp eyes watching the tree line, ever the vigilant commander. You nod, forcing a tight smile, but your mind is still clouded.

Suddenly, a cry goes up from the front of the patrol. The snap of arrows cutting through the air is followed by the sickening thud of one hitting its target. Chaos erupts as orcs burst from the underbrush, their jagged weapons gleaming in the dim light. Your heart leaps into your throat, and instinctively, you draw your sword.

"To arms!" Elrond shouts, his voice clear and commanding over the din of battle. He’s already dismounting, swinging his blade with practiced precision, felling the first orc that rushes him. The patrol scatters, engaging the enemy in pockets of combat, but the ambush has left you surrounded.

You leap from your horse, blade in hand, but your focus is scattered, your movements just a fraction too slow. You parry an orc’s strike, feeling the jarring force of the blow reverberate through your arm. Another charges, and you swing your sword wide, catching it in the side. It falls, but more take its place.

The clashing of steel fills the air, mingled with the guttural roars of the orcs and the cries of your comrades. You fight to keep up, dodging and weaving between the advancing enemies, but your thoughts keep pulling you back—back to her. Whoever she is, she’s the one occupying Gil-galad’s heart, not you. Not ever you.

And that moment of distraction costs you.

An orc lunges from the side, and you turn too late. The blade slashes across your side with brutal force, the shock of it knocking you off your feet. A scream escapes your lips as the pain explodes through your body. You hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from your lungs, blood already soaking through your tunic. You try to stand, but the world spins, your vision dimming at the edges.

"Sister!" Elrond’s voice cuts through the haze, frantic and filled with fear. He’s at your side, fighting off orcs left and right with terrifying precision. He’s calling for help, his face pale as he kneels beside you, hands pressed to your wound. His touch is warm, but you can feel the cold creeping in.

The battle rages on around you, but all you can focus on is the searing pain and the dull roar in your ears. Elrond’s voice fades in and out as he fights to keep you conscious. Somewhere in the distance, you hear the thundering of more hooves—reinforcements, maybe—but it’s too late. The darkness closes in, and your last thought is of Gil-galad. The king you love. The king you can never have.

The world goes black.

The gates of Lindon loom ahead as the patrol rushes back into the city, Elrond riding with you cradled in his arms. You’re barely conscious, the pain from your wound a constant, throbbing ache that keeps you teetering on the edge of blackness. Every breath is agony, and the blood loss has left you weak. Through the haze, you feel the rhythmic beat of your brother’s heart as he holds you close, murmuring soothing words that you can barely hear.

The moment you pass through the gates, the guards shout for aid, and in the next breath, you hear another voice—a voice that sends a jolt through your foggy mind.

"Ereinion," you manage to whisper, but the sound is drowned out by the clamor around you.

Gil-galad appears as if from nowhere, his face pale, eyes wide with fear as he takes in your bloodied form. His gaze locks onto the gash across your side, and his calm, regal demeanor shatters in an instant. He rushes to your side, kneeling next to Elrond as they carry you inside the palace, moving swiftly toward the healing chambers. His fingers tremble as they brush against your cheek, his breath shallow.

"What happened?" His voice is low, edged with a panic you’ve never heard from him before.

"An ambush," Elrond replies tersely, his focus never leaving you as he lays you gently on the bed. "She’s lost a lot of blood, and the wound is deep. I have to start healing her now."

Gil-galad nods, but his eyes remain on you, unable to tear himself away. As Elrond begins the healing process, the room fills with an eerie light. You know what’s coming—the agonizing burn as your brother’s power works to knit your flesh back together. It’s like fire coursing through your veins, and you grit your teeth, trying to suppress the scream rising in your throat.

The pain surges, and your body writhes involuntarily, your breath coming in short gasps. Elrond’s hands glow brighter as he works, but the intensity of the healing magic is unbearable. Your vision blurs, and a scream tears from your lips, the agony more than you can bear.

"Stay with me," Gil-galad’s voice suddenly breaks through the haze. You feel his hand wrap around yours, firm and steady, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "Look at me."

You force your eyes open, your gaze locking onto his. His face is inches from yours, his expression raw with concern, and something else—something deeper that you can’t quite name.

"Do you remember the day we met?" he asks, his voice soft but urgent, as if he’s trying to anchor you to the moment, to keep you from slipping away. "You were so angry. Soaked from the sea, all wide eyes and defiance. I knew then that you would be a thorn in my side."

Despite the pain, a weak, breathless laugh escapes you. "Glad... to oblige."

"You’ve been a constant thorn ever since," he continues, his tone light but laced with something tender. "Arguing with me at every turn. About everything. War. Politics. Even seating arrangements."

You wince as another wave of pain hits, but Gil-galad squeezes your hand, his grip steadying you, pulling you back from the edge. His eyes, usually so composed, are filled with a desperate kind of affection. "But," he murmurs, his voice low and almost trembling, "you are a thorn I would gladly bear every day of my life—if you would stay by my side."

Your heart races, but the words are lost in the haze of pain. All you can do is hold on to his voice, to the warmth of his hand in yours, as Elrond works tirelessly to heal you. The burning, searing pain seems to stretch on for hours, each second a battle to stay conscious. But Gil-galad doesn’t leave your side. He speaks to you quietly, distracting you from the worst of it, telling you of moments you had shared, of arguments he had secretly cherished because they meant you were there, with him.

When the pain finally subsides, and the last of the healing light fades from Elrond’s hands, you collapse back against the pillows, utterly exhausted. Your body is drenched in sweat, your limbs trembling, but the worst is over. Your eyes flutter closed, your mind drifting as sleep pulls you under. The last thing you feel is the warmth of Gil-galad’s hand still holding yours.

As you slip into unconsciousness, Gil-galad remains where he is, his fingers intertwined with yours, his expression unreadable. He leans his forehead against your hand, relief and exhaustion written in every line of his face.

"I won’t leave her," Gil-galad says quietly, his voice hoarse. He looks up at Elrond, his gaze unwavering. "Not until she releases me."

Elrond, weary but grateful, nods in understanding. "She’ll need you when she wakes," he says softly, placing a hand on Gil-galad’s shoulder before quietly leaving the room.

The High King stays, his grip never loosening, watching over you as the night wears on, his heart heavy with the weight of his unspoken feelings.

[prince-jjae]

heh, so for kinktober or just a regular fic atp. Can u do toxic relationship w/ yeonjun. Like reader and yeonjun are in a situationship and yeonjun says that him and reader can’t have any strings attached if they’re just gonna have sex. But like reader rlly doesn’t care so they just keep having one night stands with random people at the club. And one day, yeonjun catches her and gets jealous and BOOM raw sex. But then angst bc reader says he doesn’t love her so they’re free to hit on whoever they want. So they argue and reader never sees yeonjun again. BUT LIKE IF U DON’T WANNA MAKE THIS ANGST THEN U CAN MAKE IT A HAPPY ENDING :3 heh, my brain is going brr brr rn. Ok ty! 💕

Escapism.

mdni, nsfw!!

pairings: choi yeonjun/reader

genre: smut, angst. hurt/no comfort??

warnings: fwb?yeonjun, meandom!yeonjun, mentions of beomgyu, mentions of club bathroom sex (Dont!), name calling (slut, whore, etc), unprotected sex (Dont! pt2), gender neutral reader but they have feminine anatomy, jealousy, anger, kinda dubcon if you think too hard about it, player!reader, if i forgot any lmk!

jjae's comments: this is.... insane. I sat down to write this thinking itd be like.. 1k? around the same length of my other fics? but no... welcome to 3k words of pure smut and sadness. i made yeonjun a lot more pathetic in this fic than i think the ask originally intended, but i hope it still reads well!! enjoy!

“No strings attached.” he had said. No strings attached. If that's what he wanted, then why was Yeonjun acting this way? He hadn't the faintest idea, but the sight of you dragging a puppy-looking guy to the bathroom with your finger hooked into the front of his jeans made his chest cave in.

He thought this was a good idea, months ago. Back when you were only focused on him with your puppy-crush. Maybe it was the power he held over you back then that convinced him to do this. The strength he had over your every move made his head too foggy with desire to see the fatal error of his ways. Back then you seemed like just a nerdy college student, out of place and quiet. Just his type. He was glad the work of approaching you had been done for him, smirking at the board with your name scrawled next to his. ‘Just how cliche would this get?’ He wondered at the time. It was practically fate. He spent weeks breaking through your cold and bitter exterior, dead-set on tasting the sweet softness that he knew you kept well-hidden. It was the thrill of the chase. The promise of something forbidden, off-limits. Sure, he could give any excuse he wanted, but getting into your bed with you was always his goal. You were a sweet poison, he soon found. You were the sweetest of nectars, yet shockingly deadly. He was in bed with you, his plush lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to your heated skin. He drank in the quiet whimper you let out when his teeth scraped at you with the sharp promise of his canines marring your soft skin. 

“No strings attached.” He had whispered to you huskily, and you dumbly nodded along, eager to please so he would keep going. So he would consume you like the fire you knew he was. He said it more for his own sake than yours, he thought. He knew from the first time he had you under him, obscene sounds coming from where your hips collided, mouth spilling rivulets of drool around his fingers which pressed and prodded at your tongue, that he was thoroughly fucked. 

But now, after months of being your.. What was the right word for it? Was this a situationship? Was he your friend-with-benefits? You two had never talked about it. Hell, you hardly did anything more than moan into each other's mouths and skin. Neither of you were next to one another by the time the sunshine graced your apartment windows. He knew better, now. If he was going to continue drinking in your poison by the mouthful, he needed to be careful. Precise, even. 

Yeonjun sighed, watching you go as he swirled the drink in his hand. You didn’t know he was there. You didn’t even see the text he had sent you 2 hours prior on your phone, you were too busy scanning the crowd. He had texted you the second he walked through the doors into the club he knew you frequented. He was perhaps a little desperate to see you, but he would never tell you as much. Hell, it was hard to even admit it to himself. He craved you like he craved air. 

But you didn't care. You didn't even react to the buzzing in your pocket, sharp eyes intent on finding your next victim. This club was your web, and you were a black widow. He hadn’t known it when he stumbled into your trap all those months ago, but you were vicious. You took control of him like a possession, the thrum of your power over him was buzzing under his skin constantly. Your kiss was a brand, ruining him for anyone or anything else. 

The great player, Choi Yeonjun, reduced to a simpering, desperate boy. How far he had fallen in pursuit of you.

He recognized the man you had picked - your victim for the night - as Choi Beomgyu. He was a friend of Yeonjun’s, actually. They bickered a lot, but they got along well enough. He recalls mentioning you to him before.. Had Beomgyu sought you out because of him? The thought made his stomach churn. Jealousy cut through him like a searing hot knife, the jagged edge catching his anger in just the right way. His eyes remained fixed on the bathroom door, sipping away at his drink the entire time you occupied it. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what you were doing in there, but he needed to see it. He needed to know that you were really doing this. 

He had no right to be jealous, he knew that. Rationally, realistically, this was none of his fucking business. He was the one who suggested you two wouldn’t be exclusive. Why should he be upset now that his own words were haunting him. Was it because he never expected to get this attached? Or was it the realisation that you didn’t feel the same? It was obvious that you didn’t care for him the way he cared for you. He could live with that, he thought. He could live with you not loving him back, but seeing you sneak off with someone new right before his very eyes? This was an anger he was unfamiliar with. He was never on the receiving end of this. Perhaps this was karma, finally catching up to him and providing him the pain he usually dished out freely. Perhaps he deserved this.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, makeup smudged and clothes wrinkled, his heart plummeted to the floor. He glanced behind you, watching Beomgyu walk out with a dazed look in his eyes, shirt halfway undone and hair a mess. You loved pulling on his hair when he gave you head, He thought. The memory of him being the one between your thighs finally snapped the cord in him. 

He slammed his drink down onto the table next to him, ignoring the way the other patrons flinched at the loud crack the glass made against the worn wood. He was already halfway across the floor. You didn’t even notice him until he was on you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the club with the shadow of his rage hanging over him like a cloud. He barely registered you tugging at his arm, trying to get him to let you go, trying to ask him what was going on. Your questions fell on deaf ears. He was on a mission as he dragged you to his apartment for the first time, only a few minutes walk away from the club.

He was going to prove he was better. No one else could have you the way he could. 

Yeonjun liked to believe that he was a gentle lover. That he could be mean when it was required or requested of him, but for the most part, he was a giver. Full of plush words and promises that usually held no actual weight. A phrase echoed in his mind at that, something about truth being singular, and lies being words, words, words. In that case, Yeonjun guessed he was a liar of a lover. It tracked, if he really thought about it. Like now, when he had you pressed into the door the second you two were beyond the threshold, kissing you like a man starved. His hands were possessive, gripping onto your flesh wherever he could. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove- actually, scratch that. He did know. He wanted to erase every memory of Beomgyu’s touch, He wanted to burn it away with his own until only his touch remained on your skin. 

You weren't sure where this animalistic side of Yeonjun came from, but you hardly had it in you to complain. You should probably push him away, demand answers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. The knowledge of this made yeonjun grin against your neck before sinking his teeth into the soft junction between the column of your throat and your shoulder, pulling a pleasured scream from your lips. He practically growled against the skin, fingers trailing down to push aside the skimpy shorts you wore. 

“You let him finish inside?” He grit out, fingers sliding easily through your soaked core. The sound of Beomgyu’s cum leaking onto Yeonjun’s hardwood floor should have made you embarrassed, but instead of shame burning through you, only lust remained. You shivered, nodding at Yeonjun like a bobblehead, mind swirling in the wake of his rough handling of you. He just laughed, but the chuckle he released was devoid of humour. He was angry. You let him fill you? Did you let anyone else do the same?

“Dirty fucking thing.” He spat at you before hauling you up, legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, flinging you unceremoniously onto the covers. You were still bouncing on the mattress from the sheer force he used to toss you onto it when he descended on you. He was all tongue, teeth and rage as he practically tore your clothes off of you. He hardly gave you any space to breathe, let alone think. Your mind was a useless puddle of mush as he manhandled you, adjusting your body the way he wanted. By the time you could gather the mental presence it took to move your eyes downward, His breath was already fanning hotly at your still-sore cunt. Your eyes widened comically, but he only laughed at you before diving in and eating you with the crazed frenzy of a man who had never eaten before in his life. He had to clean you, had to rid you of any evidence of his friend. You had to become pure again, only for him to defile you himself, make you his the way you had made him yours. He had to show you, even if he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Surely, you'd understand, right? You understood him. He was sure of it.

Your hands instantly tangled in his silky locks, tugging harshly enough to pull a hiss from his lips the second his tongue made contact. You squealed, body still sensitive from your previous orgasm with Beomgyu, but Yeonjun didn’t care. He wasn't doing this for pleasure, he was doing this to make a point. To make you his. He ate you with fervor, a mix of your arousal, Beomgyu’s release and Yeonjun’s drool making his face a fucking sopping mess. It dripped onto the sheets below, but he paid it no mind, allowing you to rock your hips desperately on his tongue and nose as he worked you up again. You were sobbing, fat tears streaming down your face and clumping your pretty lashes together. All he could think about while you bumped your swollen clit against his nose was how badly he wanted to ruin you once he was done. Your wails and pleas fell on deaf ears. He had no plans on slowing down, giving you any breaks. You had teased him enough, he thought, parading around with Beomgyu’s cum still stuffed inside you. He was intent on replacing it with his own. When you finally came, sobbing out his name into the silent, cold air of his apartment, you collapsed, boneless onto the sheets. Your hand clasped at your naked chest, sweat cooling your skin as you scrambled to catch your breath. You couldn't remember a single time when Yeonjun behaved like this, did things like this, ate you like this. Sure, he loved having you on his tongue, but he was always so sweet, drawing out every little hum and movement out for your pleasure. This shift in his demeanour left you confused, for sure, but you found it so hot that you couldn't stop to ask any questions. Your eyes flew open again, desperately clawing at his arms when he shifted your body again. He lifted you with ease, flipping you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing. 

“Can't- jjunnie, please!” You cried, voice slightly muffled by the pillow he shoved your face into. He just sneered down at you, dragging his drooling cock through your soaked folds. He had no mercy for you, not anymore. He leaned down, smirking at the way your breath stuttered when the head of his cock caught your entrance. The feeling of his hot breath on your skin paled in comparison to the mean words he spat into your ear. 

“You’ll fucking take what I give you, slut.” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to feel any shame at his words. In fact, you revelled in them, pushing your hips back against him. It caught him by surprise, and you were so wet that he sunk into you with ease with that simple movement alone. A punched out groan fell from his pouty lips, one of his hands gripping your hip in a bruising hold. You were sure his fingertips would leave bruises for you to press on by tomorrow morning. 

“God- You’re so fucking desperate, arent you? Just got your pussy stuffed with cum and you're already begging for more?” He laughed, the sound mean and cruel in your ears as he set a brutal pace. You were so slick that the sounds that reverberated in yeonjuns bedroom was fucking obscene. You felt filthy, dirty, used- and you loved it. You weren’t sure how, but Yeonjun could tell. You knew he could. Maybe it was the way your walls fluttered helplessly around his fat cock, spearing into you with no mercy that gave you away. It didn’t matter, though. You hardly had the mental presence to care about anything beyond the way he stretched you out so so well. “Look at you, fucking pathetic. So eager for dick. Do I not give you enough? Huh? Do I need to stuff you full every hour of the day for you to be satiated?” 

All you could do was claw at his sheets, nodding pathetically along to his words. He scoffed, reaching up to grab your chin and forcing your mouth open. “Speak, whore.” 

You scrambled for words, but the syllables fell through your fingers like grains of sand. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, reminiscent of a fish out of water, before you finally managed out something akin to verbal language.

“Need- please- more- jjunnie-!” Your voice quickly dissolved into a chorus of pornographic ah, ah, ah-’s, and it sent a thrill through Yeonjun’s body. He was doing this to you. In this moment, right here in his bedroom, you were his. He shoved his fingers into your still open mouth, keeping your head thrown back as his hips ploughed into your sopping heat from behind. His thrusts were so intense they were punishing, sure to leave you sore and wobbly on your feet for days. Thinking about you stumbling around, needing his help to walk only made him growl and fuck you harder. He was far too drunk on you, on your moans, on your pussy. He couldn’t help himself.

“Need-? Getting fucked so good you cant speak, huh? Don’t worry, baby.” He grinned, but the smile was sharp and cheshire. It held no warmth for you, not that you could care or open your eyes long enough to even see it. You could feel it in his words, though, in the way he nibbled at your earlobe before shoving you down into the pillows again. “Daddy’s got you.”

He was entirely right, really. You were fucked positively stupid on his dick. You couldn’t deny that. In fact, you wouldn't. “Daddy-” you whined, voice barely audible over the lewd sounds of Yeonjun’s cock sinking into you and his hips snapping against the plush of your ass. “‘s fucking good- fuck!”

Yeonjun let out a breathless laugh before he pulled out of you. You hardly had time to whine at the loss, the aching empty feeling he left you with, before you were being moved again. Now you were on your back, and before you could even get your vision to focus on him, Yeonjun was already balls-deep in you again. With your head thrown back in bliss, throat bared for him, he couldn’t help but sneak down and leave angry, splotchy hickeys along your soft skin. 

“That’s right, baby- fuck… take it. Take it. Gonna fill you up better than he did- fuck!” His hips were beginning to stutter, but his mouth kept running. He was dissolving into horny babble, but he had the presence of mind to sneak his hand down, fingers drawing rough circles on your clit that had you spasming underneath him. 

He had slept with you enough times to know your tells, to know when you were going to finish. The way your head fell back, eyebrows drawn up, pretty lips making that pretty ‘o’ shape- the way you fluttered around him wildly, trying to milk him dry- you were close. He knew it. Just a few more thrusts, a slight change in angle and-

God, you were so beautiful when he had you like this, crying his name again, nails clawing uselessly against his back and leaving angry marks that he loved. 

“That’s it, baby- shit. Take it, slut. Fucking take it-!” He gripped your hips firmly in both hands, using them to move you on him. It made his thrusts hit deeper, and- God, were you squirting? If anything, the revelation only made him rougher with you despite your protests that you couldn’t take it, that you needed him to slow down. He wouldn’t, though. You knew he wouldn't. He only grabbed you harder, cock slamming into your cervix in a way that made you wince before he finally filled you, pressed as deeply into you as he could manage. He pressed into you over and over, as if trying to force his seed even deeper into you. As if he could fuck it right into your little womb. 

After a few more mean thrusts, you began to squirm and whine in his grip. Only then did he snap out of his jealousy-filled rage, looking into your eyes with his own so wide and pretty. There he was, that was closer to the Yeonjun you remembered. You smiled lazily at him, lifting your arms to him. With no prompting, he fell into your embrace. He peppered kisses along any skin he could reach, sighing happily into your skin when your fingers ran through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp in the way you knew he liked. You chuckled, but made no move to push him away. That was all he needed for hope to bloom in his chest again. You understood him, right? You knew what he was trying to do, what he needed. He needed you. He needed you more than air. He looked at you expectantly, hoping that you would say what he did not have the courage to. 

But you didn’t say anything. 

You didn’t say anything when he cleaned you up. You didn’t say anything when he carefully brought you to the bath he drew for you. You didn't say anything when he gently scrubbed your body. You didn’t say anything when he helped you back into your clothes. 

You only opened your mouth to deny him when he suggested you sleep over. He didn’t know his heart could shatter so easily with just a few words. He supposed he had this coming. Yes, he was right, earlier. This was karma for all his previous misdeeds. You were karma, and you were cruel.

“No strings attached, remember?”

[concreteangel92]

I have a request if it's ok!

A story about Noah being insecure about his uh... size. Hear me out... there are so many stories about him being confident and cocky (no pun intended 🤭) but what if he's sitting on the couch, reader is grinding on his lap and after a bit she notices his arousal and size like 😳 and our sweet boy gets embarrassed and flustered. Reader uses her hands and mouth to assure him he's got nothing to be ashamed of and she can handle him but he's so gentle and sweet and slow with her omg ok I need stop now 🥵

I’ve done this one as a headcanon which I hope is ok for you. This was definitely different to write but I hope I done it justice for you haha ☺️

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: Oral (male receiving), size kink (in a way?) I’m pretty sure that’s it haha

• You and Noah would be having a big make out session on the sofa, you sitting on top of his lap while his hands were tangled in your hair and resting on your ass

• You’d start to feel him becoming hard underneath you, feeling how big he actually was caused you to pull away with a gasp

• “Oh wow”

• Noah’s cheeks would flush pink at your words as he knew exactly what you were talking about

• “Big everywhere I see”

• You smiled at him but it dropped slightly when you saw how his eyes struggled to meet yours

• “What’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?”

• “No! No, it’s just…I know that I’m…I mean, I don’t want to hurt you”

• You looked at him confused and ran your hand over his cheek

• “What do you mean?”

• Noah sighed “sometimes a lot of women are too nervous to be with me or they think I won’t…fit….it can be kinda disheartening and I don’t want you to feel the same”

• You firmly moved your hips over his clothed erection, pulling a moan out of both of you

• “I think I can handle you just fine, in fact…”

• You moved yourself back and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his joggers, waiting for permission to pull them off

• Noah nodded and lifted his hips up for you

• Seeing him completely bare in front of you was a mouthwatering sight

• He was so big and he fell back onto his stomach hard and heavy, you couldn’t help but admire the vain that ran along him

• “You’re so beautiful”

• And you meant it as well and you wanted to show Noah that he had nothing to be shy about

• You’d reach down and wrap your hand around him, giving him a few teasing strokes, loving how small your hand and fingers looked compared to him

• Noah’s head would fall back onto the sofa as he let you please him

• It wouldn’t take long for you to be on your knees in front of him with his cock half way down your throat

• Or as much as you could fit that is

• You were loving every second, you weren’t shy about drooling all over him, you tried to push your limits and take him further down causing tears to form in your eyes

• Noah’s hand would be resting on the back of your head while he tried to keep his hips as still as possible

• “Shit…fucking hell, you’re going to make me cum so hard if you carry on”

• You pulled away briefly so you could respond “come on then handsome, give me everything you’ve got”

• You wrap your lips around him again and continue to suck him off while using your hand at his base to help stimulate what you couldn’t reach

• You gently tapped Noah’s thigh to get his attention, his eyes met yours and in that moment, without stopping the rhythm of your mouth, you gave him a wink and scratched your nails along his inner thigh

• That was all it took for him to grip your hair harder as he groaned through his orgasm

• The rest of the evening, you made sure to show Noah that he did 100% fit and that you loved every second of him filling you up completely

[sharkorok]

all eyes on you (enhypen)

or the moments that make everyone think you’re dating

cw/genre: idol!reader, reader doesnt have specified gender but implied to be a female, fluff, so cute bye, secret relationships, humor, u have delulu fans

requested: naurrr

a/n: ehe thx for 100 followers :) I hope my writing makes u happy because knowing people read my works makes me super duper happy! luv uuuu

•-•-•-•-•-•

heeseung

-at an awards show your outfits were matching, like very obviously matching

-matching bracelets, you had one on your left wrist and he had one on the right, the colors matched each other, same style and aesthetic…

-he gets v nervous but also you were in some dating rumors with another idol so…he wouldn’t be mad if he was next tbh….BUT THEN UR GROUP WAS ASSIGNED NEXT TO HIM??

-dawg was sweating the whole time trying not to admire you and how cute you two looked

-but no every one of those “enhypen mma reaction” or “heeseung reaction focus” showed him very clearly staring at you 😭, twt had a field day with you two

-he can’t help it, you looked so good and how can he keep his eyes off his lovely s/o when they’re all dressed up + matching?? seriously his management was insane for putting him so close to you

-and when all groups were leaving he was seen literally sprinting to be closer to you

-ya dispatch didn’t even need to confirm anything after that awards show

the others r below!

jay

-during a live he got his guitar out and started playing all your favorite songs

-and this was literally a day after you named your favorite songs

-then to make it worse he was like “yeah these are y/n’s favorite songs don’t they have good music taste?” and then he kept talking about you and staff was sweating while watching istg

-the way he talked about you tho,,he either had a massive crush on you or you two were dating

-the ship edits the next day were insane honestly some of your fans need to get into the editing business because you genuinely believed a photo of him holding your waist was taken at inkigayo

-he doesn’t even try to hide how much he likes you istg, he goes out of his way to talk to you at awards shows and always films challenges with you, he gives the shippers so much content

-then another time jay cooked your favorite food in a vlog and specifically said it was your favorite food, name dropping and everything

-literally no one is surprised that you two are confirmed dating after a while.

jake

-accidentally went on live while talking about you

-he fully believed he closed out of the app when he was talking to jay and saying stuff like, “I’m really excited to see her at the performance, I hope we have time to hang out…” and then he hears notifications and sees that he was streaming and he nearly faints

-plays it off like he fully intended for everyone to hear that and continues like he planned on going live

-he’s also trying to hide the way his eyes flickered up to your rapid texts being like, “JAKE WHY ARE WE TRENDING ON TWITTER??”

-jay is behind the camera just trying not to laugh becuz how do you even recover from this one, literally all the comments are talking about you and him

-“y/n…? yeah ahahah I know her uh huh mhm anyways moving on” and his horrible deflecting skills are making it even more obvious

-and when you go on live?? oh u bet the comments are “did you see jake’s recent live?? are u cheating on us y/n?”

-u desperately distract by spoiling your comeback but there’s already 14k Tik toks analyzing every interaction you had with Jake and why you two are cosmically intertwined

sunghoon

-describes you to a T when asked about his ideal type

-he meant to just mention the broad details but he gets excited talking about u ok :(

-“yeah a good heart and around (your exact height), with (the hex code of your eye color) eyes, born on (your birthday), hobbies include (every single one of your hobbies) and also…(literally all the information under your kprofiles page)”

-ur fans catch on and are like “isn’t this literally y/n” and he’s like “omg nooo coincidence”

-it is NOT a coincidence bro he was fully thinking of you and only you during that interview

-anyways you don’t help the situation by describing him too when asked about your ideal type, but ur at least a tad less obvious 😭

-“yea I love guys who ice skate and stuff”

-u two definitely get scolded by management

sunoo

-sometimes he forgets to care about keeping things secret (like that lipton tea thing he did)

-so he’s showing fans his camera roll and he shows selfies you never posted before…in his camera roll…never before seen by anyone but him and you to the camera and is like

-“y/n’s visual is so perfect, right?”

-and yeah duh ur stunning and gorgeous but fans are distracted by your beauty for a second before being like “hm…how did he get those selfies and why r they in his camera roll”

-ur fans r thankful for the content tho so he kinda did everyone a favor

-but it’s a LITTLE suspicious…but neither of you address anything so it just festers a little

-until you two do a tik tok challenge together and he captions it with a heart emoji like oh my god 😭

-you’re not innocent either when you said “sunoo’s visual is so amazing” like both of you get some media training I beg

-everyone loves how obviously whipped you two are for each other tho :,)

jungwon

-accidentally exposes your polaroid in his phone case

-thankfully he has photos of his members and maeum but why were you there??

-he completely ignores it tbh he shows the photos to the camera and is like “these r the polaroids in my phone case. anyways.” n he’s playing it cool but internally he’s PANICKING

-“hopefully they didn’t see the heart I drew on the Polaroid,” he thinks foolishly

-we did.

-so you try to do some damage control on your own live when asked about why he has ur photo in his phone and ur like “oh we’re really close friends!!���

-n honestly that’s a good and healthy response because everyone has the right to their platonic relationships

-but jungwon’s heart he drew on your Polaroid was just a little bit tooooo suspicious…anyways this leads to fans over-analyzing every single interaction to the point you two weren’t allowed to be seen in a ten foot proximity at events for a while

-but at least it reminded jungwon to be more careful lolol

niki

-accidentally rizzes you up on live television

-you’re an mc for smth and you’re interviewing enhypen and you’re like, “oooh, some burning questions, what is your ideal type?”

-and Niki, with no hesitation fully goes, “you lol” and you see ur career flash before your eyes

-ur co mc is nervously laughing and niki realizes like oh wait we’re being broadcasted so he’s like “oh just kidding haha!!!” even though you two are making awkward eye contact while you’re mentally scolding him

-he’s so used to teasing and flirting with you in private so it’s a little hard to shake off in public

-anyways fans notice he’s looking at you a little too lovingly and being a little too genuine when he responded so it’s not long before you see ship edits on Twitter and tik tok

-doesn’t help when you answer the ideal type question with “someone who is playful and funny” thinking it was broad enough but ‘twas not <3

-he doesn’t really care too much but thought it was funny, even if he had to take a media training class again afterwards >:T

[moodriingz]

Waiting Room | Q. Hughes

Summary | Reader works for the Canucks’ socials and has an unrequited crush on Quinn. Based off of Waiting room by Phoebe Bridgers.

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | unrequited love, angst, moving on?

Author's Note | Oh my gosh this ended up so much longer than intended, so buckle in it’s a long one. I thought about trying to shorten it but I had so many ideas about what to include. I was also so nervous to write this one that it took me forever to finish. Also thinking of writing a part two, but let me know what you think. Please send in requests for other players!

Masterlist

Part two

If you were a teacher, I would fail your class

Take it over and over 'til you noticed me

“This is why you are the best person ever,” Quinn said as you carried an insane amount of coffee for some of the team and the Canucks social staff.

“Oh, it’s no big deal I always just pick some up when I get mine,” you say as you almost drop the lattes from your hands. “I’m going to find Elias and drop his off and then head to my desk. See you at practice.”

“Y/N how did you know I didn’t get the chance to pick up my coffee?” Elias asked with a smirk. “Or did you just get extra so it wouldn’t be obvious you love to get Quinn’s coffee?”

“Goodbye Elias! I’ll see you on the ice in a bit!” You shout as you walk down the hall to the social media office.

You set down the last two coffees on your desk, go through your emails, and write down some ideas for content before your morning meeting. 

“Y/N you have to stop buying his coffee, you're just torturing yourself,” Megan says as she sets her bag down. “But please don’t stop bringing me coffee because I never have enough time to get some myself.”

“Ok Megan I’ll keep that in mind, but I don’t get it just for Quinn, I also got it for Elias today,” you say with a blush covering your cheeks.

“Yeah alright. Let’s go get this meeting started.”

If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor

I would sit there with my first aid kit and bleed

After the meeting with the rest of the social media and communications team, it’s decided that you have to go on the ice to capture content today. Usually, you can just film from the bench, but your boss wanted some trending content that required you to skate with the team. The only bad thing about filming on the ice was your awful case of clumsiness.

You were filming content with Brock when you tripped over your own two feet. Normally, you’d laugh it off after getting up, but your left foot twisted under your body. 

You wince as Brock helps you stand to skate off the pain but yelp the second you put your weight on the foot. Quinn watches as Brock’s hands are on your waste and immediately skates over the second you cry out in pain.

“Are you ok? What happened?” Quinn asked, putting your arm around his shoulders to support you as he took you to the bench.

“I-I’m fine. I just twisted my ankle as I fell,” You say looking into his worried eyes.

“Ok, let me take the skate off, and then we can go to the trainers and get you ice,” Quinn grimaces as he takes the skate off and sees your ankle already swelling.

“It’s probably just a sprain, but we need to get ice on this ASAP. I’ll take you to the trainers, let's go,” Quinn says standing to help you up.

“But what about practice? You guys have your East Coast road trip coming up, and I’m not going to be the reason you skip out on practice,” You say trying to figure your way to get ice or wait until Megan comes to help. 

Truthfully though, you don’t want him to take you because the way Quinn is taking care of you makes you fall harder for him.

“Don’t be crazy. Practice is almost over and they won’t miss me for the five minutes it’ll take me to make sure you’re ok,” Quinn says as you nod reluctantly. You feel your blush coming back and know you’re never going to get over your silly crush on Quinn Hughes.

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

The next night the Canucks lost to the Flyers with just a game left before the two-week road trip. The loss was hard following Christmas, and Quinn was beating himself up over the game. You found him after finishing up your content for the night and he finished his interviews. He tried to smile at you, but it looked like a grimace from how tight his lips were.

“Hey how are you,” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You say sheepishly.

“Yeah, I guess. Are you busy tonight? I was hoping we could hang out at my place and watch some movies,” Quinn’s question surprised you. You’ve only really hung out in group settings or when the team went out after a game.

“I’m free, let me just finish wrapping some stuff up and then we can go,” You say with butterflies forming in your chest. 

You go and find Megan and tell her everything that happened with Quinn.

“Shut up you’re going, right?” She asks.

“Yeah of course I am, I think I’d be stupid not to. I’m just nervous,” You respond. 

“Don’t be. He asked you over for a reason he must not hate you.” Megan says practically pushing you out the door.

You nod and go back to find Quinn talking to Elias while he waits for you to come back. 

“Hey ready to go?” You ask.

“You’re replacing me for our movie nights?” Elias blurts out of jealousy.

“No, not completely replacing you. I just didn’t want to wallow alone. Plus I figured Y/N would be free,” Quinn says nonchalantly. There’s a pang in your chest because not only is this a tradition with someone else, but that he just assumed you’re at his beck and call. You both arrive at his apartment after a silent drive from Rogers arena.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks, swaying back and forth. Is he nervous? Why would he be? It's not like this is a date or anything. This is something he always does with Elias. 

“Can I just have water?” You say quieter than intended. You felt small and out of place in his apartment.

“Of course. Do you want to pick out the movie? I figure you should do the honors for your first movie night,” He says as he pours your water. 

You think for a second and immediately know you should put on your favorite rom-com 13 going on 30. It’s kind of a comfort movie and you might calm down with something familiar. Once it’s pulled up he sits down with you on the couch.

And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better

He told you he’s never seen the movie as he sits down and watches intently until the birthday scene.

“Man, I feel so bad for that Matty kid.”

“Why,” you say, keeping your attention on the tv.

“His unrequited love with Jenna,” He says it so plainly like he’s toying with you for your confession.

“Yeah unrequited love is the worst,” You say finally looking over at him.

“Why do you have feelings like that for someone,” He chuckles at the idea. You realize he doesn’t know that you have feelings for him.

“No. I did at one point,” You say, and the subject is dropped. You watch the rest of the movie and he orders you an Uber home. You realized that night that your crush needs to end no matter how hard it is.

And when broken bodies are washed ashore

Who am I to ask for more, more, more?

Quinn seems to be in a much better mood from the loss the night before. But you want to avoid him at all costs today. Your boss asks you to do something with him later. There’s nothing you rather do than work with Quinn, but You want to stay in your boss’ good graces.

She asked you to shoot a video with a concept that had been performing well on socials with other players. You find Quinn before he steps out for practice to let him know you’re following him for the day.

“Hopefully you can keep a better balance than you did with Brock,” He chuckles.

“Yeah I’ll try my best not to fall today,” you say with your signature blush covering your cheeks.

“Well if you do I’ll catch you. Can’t have my favorite staffer breaking something.” Oh, he must be playing with you. Your face is completely flushed and you give a court nod before running to the restroom to calm down.

You start to think over your last couple of conversations. Had he been flirting? Or giving you more attention than usual? You think about how he rushed to your side and left practice just to help you even if it got him in trouble. You think about his smile when you bring his coffee. You think about last night how he was so tuned into unrequited love.

“No Y/N there are bigger things than a silly little crush. You have to go do your job.” You say to yourself in the mirror. After your pep talk, you go out on the ice, shoot your content quickly, and then go back to your office to edit. You tell yourself that you need to stop focusing so much on Quinn.

But you're breathing in my open mouth

You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

The Canucks win the next game, and before you can make it into the locker room to shoot content Brock stops you.

“Y/N! Are you coming out with us tonight?” He asks. You can see Quinn’s head pick up waiting for your response.

“Yeah, I can. I just need to film a couple of the post-game interviews and then I can leave,” you say excited for a drink.

When you all arrive at the usual bar you head straight up to the bar. You give a once-over of the crowd and how many people are there tonight. You go find the boys at their usual table. And you find Quinn’s eyes already staring at yours. 

“I think I’m going to go dance,” You tell Elias before turning around to head to the dance floor.

“Where’s she going,” Quinn asks Elias, watching your retreating figure.

“Going to dance. Are you going to replace me there too?” He jokes.

“Haha, very funny. I’ll be back in a bit,” Quinn says as he leaves to find you.

Of course, you’re in the middle of the crowd and once he finds you’re already making new friends. Quinn laughs to himself because you’re so sociable unlike him. 

“Are you ok if I join you,” Quinn says leaning in. You can only nod and note his proximity but brush it off due to the crowded area.

He dances close to you as music plays over the speakers. His energy and presence make you feel alive. He follows your moves as you’re face to face and you never want this night to end. However, at the end of the song, he notices your glass is empty and offers you another drink. You nod and follow him back to the bar.

“Aren’t you going to order something?” You ask after he only requests your drink. He shakes his head no and gets closer.

“I figured I’d be the designated driver to take you home tonight,” he says with his breath hitting your ear. The alcohol already going straight to your head makes the room spin and gives you confidence.

“Usually I only take guys home after the third date,” You joke, instantly regretting it. He laughs it off and says that you need more water instead of a drink. Even though you’re tipsy you remember that this crush is going to hurt you regardless of how he feels.

I want to make you drive all night just because I said maybe you should come over

I want to make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents' teenage daughter

At the end of the night, Quinn keeps his promise as he ushers you into his car. You’re giggling as he pulls you towards safety and you say goodnight to all of the team.

“Goodnight Pettyyyyy,” you slur and yell as you get further from him. He just waves and chuckles. 

“Get her home safe Huggy,” Elias shouts back drunkenly.

“Will do. See you tomorrow,” Quinn says finally getting you in the car.

“You know my dad used to drive my mom back from bars back in the day,” you say once he starts driving as you stare out the window.

“Oh yeah?” Quinn chuckles at your drunken state.

You feel so grateful that he decided to take you home. You hate taking Uber, especially after drinking. You take note that the bar is nowhere close to your apartment and his place is on the other side of town. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to do, but he did it without you even having to ask. Maybe your unrequited love isn’t so unrequited and you fall asleep in your bed hopeful for what the next day could contain.

She'll be the best you ever had if you let her

The next morning was rough to get out of bed, but get excited when memories of Quinn going out of his way to bring you home come back to you. You get ready and go to the coffee shop you always stop at with a pep in your step.

Once you get to the arena you go straight to the locker room as usual except you stop right outside of the door when you hear Elias and Quinn talking.

“So you and Y/N,” Elias said with a suggestive and teasing tone.

“Nothing happened between us. She’s sweet and all, but I’m not into her that way,” He says quickly. Your heart shattered and you turned around to leave before you could be caught.

You drop your things off at your desk and run to the restroom to let out a good cry. After a minute or two you compose yourself before going back to your desk and delivering the coffee like nothing happened.

You hand Quinn's coffee and he thanks you with his usual stupid smile like he didn’t say anything ten minutes ago. You give Elias his coffee and leave the locker room without saying a word. Little did you know, Elias followed you out and caught up to you in the hallway.

“You heard him didn’t you?” He asks you with sad eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s ok I knew this would happen. I’ll be ok. It’s just going to be awkward on the plane because we always sit together for roadies,” you say with a sigh.

“Sit with me,” Elias says simply and you just look at him perplexed. “I’ll just say I wanted my own movie night with you.” You nod and tell Elias you have to go for your meeting before you all leave.

I know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You walk into the plane after your meeting and you finalize some posts to be uploaded while you’re flying. You see Quinn watching you expectantly for you to take your unassigned seat next to him. However, You miss the surprised and sad gaze he has after you walk past him to sit with Elias.

Elias always sits near the back of the plane, and Quinn knows you hate sitting so far back. He hears you and Elias pick a movie to watch during the flight and he gets jealous. It’s small but Quinn always wanted to do that on flights with you, but you always were more interested in reading or sleeping. 

“Do you want to watch 27 Dresses? Isn’t that your favorite?” Quinn hears Elias ask you and Quinn scoffs. He knew even before you came over to watch a movie that 13 going on 30 was your favorite move. That’s why he watched it before he invited you over so he’d have good commentary for your movie night.

You grab Elias’ hand as the plane lifts and apologize and say it’s muscle memory. You always get nervous on planes but Quinn always calms you down. You and Elias have fun for the rest of the flight. Watching movies even though it was something you wanted to do with Quinn. But you know getting over your crush is for the better. You and Quinn wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

The next day you wake up in your hotel room after letting yourself sleep in a little bit. Even on road trips, you would make a point of getting Quinn’s coffee. But you decided now that you know he doesn’t feel the same, so you didn’t see the point in doing it anymore. You come down from your hotel room and see Quinn in the lobby. 

“Oh hey, I was just going to wait for you to come back from getting coffee for everyone,” Quinn says sheepishly.

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to set an alarm and overslept. I can’t go today because I have to go meet the Blue’s social team before the game to go over rules for the game,” You say with little emotion.

“Oh ok, that makes sense. I guess I just see you at the arena,” Quinn says sadly.

“See you there!” You say with a smile leaving the lobby. This was the first time you felt like you could maybe get over Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

The team returns from a successful road trip and you feel energized, which rarely happens after traveling for two weeks straight. You and Elias became good friends over the trip and now realize there is a lot more to your work than just Quinn.

After your meeting, you and Megan are talking about your plans as you settle back into Vancouver.

“You should let me set you up,” Megan blurts out, cutting off your list of chores.

“What? Who would it even be?” You’re intrigued where she’s going with this.

“My friend Evan just got out of a relationship a couple of months ago. I feel like you guys would really get along. Plus it could be good for-”

“You know what I’m in. Can you send me his number or something?” You decided you were ready to move on.

“Yes! I’ll send it right now. I'm so excited.”

You go to the ice to get ready for some practice content. Quinn is out first and gives you a weak smile. You feel a mixture of butterflies and your heart clenches. You missed Quinn. You haven’t had a full conversation with him since you all went out. Even though you’re trying to convince yourself to, you don’t know if you’ll be able to move on from Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

Your date with Evan is today and you’re excited. You feel giddy all day thinking about the prospect of dating again. Your boss lets you go home early because you’ve finished your content and are ahead of schedule. As you walk out to your car you see the team going back to the locker room from practice.

“Hey Y/N are you coming out with us tonight? It’s nothing crazy we just wanted to go out to celebrate the road trip,” Brock asks 

“I would love to, but I actually have a date tonight,” You say with a grin and blush on your face.

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

There’s a couple of wolf whistles from the team when you tell them your plans. Quinn’s heart drops at the idea of you going out with someone else. He knew you guys hadn't talked a lot during the trip, but he just figured it was because you were busy with work or tired. He didn’t think it was because you started talking to someone.

He sulks as he gets ready to go home, and can’t stop thinking about who your date could be with and what you’re doing. He knows you look great no matter what you wear, but the idea of you dressing up for some other guy makes him uneasy. 

Quinn gets home and thinks about texting you, but what would he even say? “Good luck on your date hope you have fun” when he prays it goes badly so he has a shot again? He thinks about texting you to not go on the date, but knows it’s not his place and you might not feel the same way.

Instead he texts Elias if he wants to hang out. Elias comes over and immediately notices his sour mood. 

“What’s got you so down?”

“Nothing I guess I’m just in my head,” Quinn says.

“Is it about Y/N? I thought you said you don’t have feelings for her,” Elias says as a joke knowing Quinn would never admit it out loud.

“I didn’t think I did, but I’ve really missed her over the last couple of weeks and it made me think about her a lot. I just don’t know what to do,” Quinn says with his head in his hands. Elias is shocked at his revelation and doesn’t know what to say.

“I doubt the date is going to be that great. Tell her how you feel after,” Elias says and Quinn just nods his head. 

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You get ready for your date and get even more excited as it gets closer to your date. You know it might not go anywhere with Evan, but you’re just proud of yourself for trying to move on from Quinn.

You go to meet Evan at a restaurant downtown, and give him a hug when you see him. You quickly notice he’s the complete opposite of Quinn; he has brown eyes instead of Quinn’s blue eyes. Evan’s hair is light brown and barely has a wave vs Quinn’s dark brown curls. 

You quickly take note that Evan is more talkative and has a bigger personality than Quinn. He doesn’t seem to like silence and is always asking you more questions about yourself even as you try to look over the menu. Then you realize that if you truly want to get over Quinn, you’ve to stop comparing Evan to him.

That's when you guys hit it off. You realize he’s really funny and also understands your humor. You both have a lot in common too. You can’t stop smiling throughout the rest of the night. 

Know it’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

After your dinner you both don’t want the date to be over just yet so you decide to take a walk down the street to continue your conversation. You have no idea how long you guys have been together, but haven’t gotten bored of each other for the night.

You stumble across an ice cream shop, and both note how much you love ice cream. And even though it’s freezing outside you both decide to get some to end the night. After you finish you both decide to call it a night and He walks you back to your car.

Know It’s for the better

Know It’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

“I hate to say it this way, but I didn’t think I could have this much fun on a date,” Evan says looking down at you.

“No me too, but I had an amazing time.”

“Do you want to go out again soon? I don’t know what your schedule looks like, but-” Evan rambles on and you decide to cut him off.

“I would love to. I’ll let you know when I’m free,” You say with a smile.

You get in the car and can wipe the grin off of your face as you drive home. You get ready for bed and almost want to text Elias, but know he’s with the team and didn’t want to interrupt their fun. 

Know it's for the better

I never grew up with you

And you’re not my waiting room

The next day you go into the office with your smile still wide. You see Megan in the parking lot and walk in together telling her about your date. 

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too” Megan squeals and tells you she’s so excited for you. 

Little did you know that Quinn was nearby and heard everything. You spot him not thinking much about it and he gives you a small smile. You realize that your life will continue on after your crush on Quinn and you’re ok with that.

[httpvomitello]

Double surprise *⁠.⁠✧

Raph stood outside the makeshift room in the lair, pacing like a caged animal. He wasn’t used to feeling this out of control. His fists clenched and unclenched as the sounds of your labor reached him. Normally, he could face anything, monsters, enemies, whatever... but this? Waiting to meet his baby? That had him more nervous than he’d ever admit.

“Calm down, Raph. She’s gonna be fine,” Leo's voice echoed, but Raph wasn’t so sure he would be.

When Donnie finally poked his head out of the room, Raph rushed over like a bull charging through a door. “Can I go in now?” he asked, his voice a little more gruff than he intended.

Donnie chuckled. “Yeah, big guy. It’s time.”

Raph wasted no time, practically shoving his way into the room. His eyes went straight to you, lying on the bed with a tired but glowing smile on your face. You were holding a tiny, wriggling bundle in your arms. His heart nearly stopped at the sight.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice catching in his throat as he stepped closer.

You nodded, holding out the little one for him to see. “Meet your son, Raph.”

Raph’s hands shook as he reached for the baby. He wasn’t used to holding something so small, so fragile, but as soon as his son was in his arms, everything clicked into place. He stared down at the little boy, the world around him fading. He couldn’t believe it, he was a dad.

But just as he was about to sit down beside you, taking in this perfect moment, Donnie’s voice cut through the haze again. “Uh, Raph… you might want to sit down.”

Raph blinked, turning to look at his brother. “What now, Donnie?”

Before Donnie could respond, a second baby’s cry filled the room. Raph’s eyes went wide, his jaw dropping as he turned back to you. “Are you serious? We got two?”

You laughed, though you were clearly exhausted. “Yeah, Raph. We’ve got twins.”

Raph’s brain short-circuited for a moment. He carefully handed the first baby back to you, his hands shaking as he tried to process it all.

When Donnie finally placed the second baby in your arms, Raph just stared in awe. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to react. Two babies? He hadn’t seen that coming.

“Raph,” you called softly, breaking him out of his daze. “Come meet your daughter.”

Raph moved like he was in a trance, his heart pounding in his chest as he gently took the second baby into his arms. His daughter. He looked down at her tiny face, his mind still struggling to process everything.

“I… I don't know what to say,” he muttered, glancing between you and the two babies. “Twins....”

You smiled up at him. “Yeah... We weren’t ready for this either, but look at them, Raph. They’re perfect.”

Raph nodded, sitting down beside you as the weight of it all finally hit him. “Perfect,” he whispered, staring down at his son and daughter. “I don’t know how we’re gonna do this, but… damn, I love them already.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his arm. “We'll figure it out, don't worry.”

Raph kissed your forehead, his heart full of more love than he ever thought possible. “Yeah… we got this. I’ll protect all of you, no matter what.”

With that, he settled in beside you, holding his newborn twins as the reality of being a father, times two, started to sink in. And for once, Raph didn’t feel scared or out of control. He felt even more in love with you.

[bysaber]

Breaking up ft. Satoru Gojo

Day 13 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — you break up with your partner a few weeks prior christmas.

word count — 1.2k

content — hurt/comfort, gojo is emotionally constipated but he’s trying ok, lowercase intended

notes — today was supposed to be obito’s fic but i wrote this one first because im kinda… going thru the same thing lol. enjoy <3

everything feels out of place as you lay in bed trying to place together pieces of an unfinished puzzle.

two weeks have passed since the last time you and gojo spoke to each other. two weeks since you broke up with him, leaving a part of your heart behind.

you know you have to move on, but it’s hard when you have years of friendship and a one-year-long relationship weighing on your back. you look back to all the efforts you put into it and, foremost, you can’t completely let him go.

you always knew about gojo’s personality, in fact, you fell in love with it. but it became unsustainable when you were the one doing everything while he sat back and watched.

you used to say to him, “you are a good person. you are the best person I’ve fallen for, like a window of light in the dark.” and never once you regretted those words. you made sure to repeat them to him during the breakup.

you truly believe satoru’s a good person, and he never intended to hurt you. what defined the fate of your relationship was his inconstancy, his fear of emotions.

gojo could shower you with kisses and “i love you”s for days, but they were always half-hearted and, whenever the conversation between the two of you took a deeper turn, he would instantly shut down.

become cold, even.

he also didn’t care much about life in general, talking about several topics and simply forgetting to ask simple questions like “how was your day?”

you knew he cared, but it didn’t feel like he did.

it killed you every time he’d disappear for an entire day, especially on days you weren’t okay, not even bothering to reply to your texts, and then replying with a mere “i was busy” – you knew it already, but a text would be nice.

and to match his emotionless self, you were the embodiment of intensity.

you tried to crack up his shell, always paying attention to what he said and remembering it. you dove head first into every interest he had, and supported him in every choice he made.

you cared, you asked and, mostly, you talked.

multiple times, you tried to express how you felt, how you wish he could open up more and maybe just regard you a little more – a few texts not to worry you wouldn’t hurt. gojo said he was like that, but that he would try to be better.

what mined your relationship was that lie.

because he never even tried.

and after another month of dealing with all of that, with not feeling wanted enough, cared enough, you decided to end everything.

you can’t lie a little part of you hoped he would fight for you, ask for you to stay. but as you watched distress filling his eyes, all he could muster was, “i’m really sorry i couldn’t be better.”

and you lost everything you thought you had.

you blink away your tears, trying to escape from your painful thoughts, and get up from the bed – it’s past seven now and you need to start getting ready for a christmas party at one of your friends’ house.

you need to move on.

after taking a quick shower, you put on the red dress you’ve decided to wear – a dress that gojo bought for you months before – before starting to do your makeup.

this is when your doorbell rings.

you frown, “who is it?” you yell as you make your way toward the door, but there’s no time for an answer before you open it.

you almost close it again when you see your ex-boyfriend standing there, but you don’t. you know you need to be mature about this situation, even if seeing him makes all the walls you’ve been building crumble down.

it hurts.

“gojo.”

you don’t look him in the eye, focusing on his christmas sweater instead. funnily, the one you gave him a year ago.

“can i come in? it’s freezing outside.”

if you looked into his eyes, though, you would see the big blue bag under them. you would see how faded his blue irises are, and how fucking anxious satoru is.

you don’t ask further questions, letting him into the house he knows all too well before you close the door. he follows you like a lost puppy, and keeps standing when you sit on the couch.

“you look gorgeous,” he compliments meekly.

“thank you. what do you want?” it takes all of you to not start crying right then and there, but you know you have to be firm.

“i want you back.”

satoru doesn’t beat around the bush, and the silence that follows is so loud it can be heard. you feel your heart beating in an insane rhythm, and your head spins.

“gojo, you can’t–”

“you were right. you are right. about everything,” he interrupts you. “i was a boy, and for that i’m sorry. i acted like you had to keep up with my shit, like you would always be there, and i’m sorry for that too,” gojo speaks so fast you can barely keep up with him, like he’s going to die if he doesn’t say those words. “i thought i couldn’t change, i thought i didn’t have to. because it is easier to live the way i live, but… it is much harder to live without you.”

“gojo–”

again, he doesn’t let you speak, “don’t call me that. please, don’t call me that,” gojo drops on his knees in front of you and grabs your hand. “call me satoru, toru, baby, love for all i care. just not gojo. i’ve been miserable without you, i never thought a person could get so miserable,” his voice cracks, pulling your hand towards his face in a desperate attempt to be comforted. “i promise you i will do better, i will pay attention, text you all the time, tell you all about my past and what made me who i am, scream through my pain for what’s worth. just take me back, please.”

you are so deeply in shock that it takes you a while to register the tears falling down his face, his eyes closed as he expects the worst.

all it takes is for your thumb to caress his cheek softly, and satoru sobs. you grab his face with both of your hands, cleaning his teardrops as your own fall, and you gently kiss his forehead.

it kills you to see him like that, but at the same time it gives you a reason to live to know that he’s willing to try. for you.

you kiss his nose, his cheeks, and then his lips.

satoru whimpers, pulling you into an embrace so strong you’re afraid he’ll never let go.

“toru,” you say when you part your lips and bury your face in his neck, feeling his scent. “everything’s okay now. i’m here, i’ll take care of you.”

“missed you so much, i’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“i missed you, too,” you confess, finally looking into his eyes and frowning when you notice he hasn't slept. “what’s past is past, we’ll be okay. but i guess we should just sleep a bit, hm? it was one hell of a ride.”

“sleep together, right?”

he sounds so clingy, you chuckle lightly.

“yes, toru. together.”

[januaryrabbit]

how seventeen would act around their s/o while drunk heheee

pairing: seventeen x gn reader, established relationship, fluff

word count: 1.8k

warnings: alcohol, cursing, mentions of sleeping over and physical affection w/ the boys but it’s meant in a fluffy context, not a suggestive/mature one!

other disclaimers: lowercase intended, probably typos, setting is hanging out with all the boys and with you!!!!!

a/n: i just realized in my wip post i said "crush" instead of "s/o"........WOOPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUT ANYWAY hello everyone, i’m finally back with another post! i;m sorry for the very long hiatus, i p much always have something going on in my life lol @-@ but i have time now to actually write!!! i hope you enjoy this one hehe -mina

✩‧₊˚clingy drunks:

mingyu: this man will not leave you alone. he is in love with you. and he’s cheesy! in a sweet way :) will kiss your hand every few mins, lean on you, or put his arm around you so you lean on him hehe. i think he would also want you to reciprocate the clinginess too hehe,,,it makes him feel loved :3 i can see him moving your hand to his hair to ask you to play with it, and if you stopped, he would just take your hand and put it back in his hair LOl. he strikes me as someone who would take care of you (kinda like how he takes care of drunk hoshi hehe) and makes sure you're ok, even if he's drunk himself :]

seungcheol: omg omg HES GOING TO DOTE ON YOU SO MUCH!!! “jagi are you ok” “jagi do you need water” “jagi i’ll walk you to the bathroom, be careful”...he doesn’t realize that he himself is wobbling around and spilling water, LMAO. he just wants to help his baby!!! would def ask where you’re going if you get up, ask you to stay over with him, etcetc. would always have an arm around you and constantly LOL. would also go on a random rant about how protective he is of you HAHAHA!! like “Y/N . IF ANYONE MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. TELL ME RIGHT AWAY . I WILL DEFEND YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH  EVEN IF IT’S MY OWN FRIENDS I DONT CARE WHO I HAVE TO BEAT UP (svt: BRO WTF?????) . GOD I LOVE U SOMUCH .” pls give him some water and a kiss!!!

junhui: i don’t think he’d necessarily be like talkative or doting, but i think he’s the type to just want to be around you and would sit really close to you :3 he almost gives me like Protective Bf vibes in the way that he’d just wanna be by your side to make sure you’re feeling ok too. plus, junnie just likes your company! i can picture him sending a lot of smiles toward you every few minutes because he’s so happy you;re his partner and he feels so comfy with you next to him :) also he likes leaning his head on your shoulder and he WILL show you cat pics the entire night…..pls comment on all of them or he’ll get sad. he also gives me the vibes of someone who has lazy days with his s/o after a night of drinking hehe…napping, hotpot and movies :)))

✩‧₊˚loud/emotional/(verbally) affectionate drunks:

soonyoung: MESSY U WILL HAVE TO CARE HIM !!!! did you see him on lee youngji’s show?? so cuteeee :( he would just shower you w/ affection heheh. im picturing him hugging you from behind like how he hugged the ice in the youngji ep and he would nestle his head into the crook of your neck and reach over to kiss your cheek :3c he would announce like every 20min how much he loves you to the whole room like "THIS IS MY PARTNER I LOVE THEM VERY MUCH THANKS!!!" and would post blurry pics of the two of you on his story with typos "i lvoe tehfm sonmchch" HAHA!! youll definitely have to sober up to take care of him hehe. would definitely start crying bc he loves you so much and YOU have to comfort him……you and mingyu get him to the car that night because he can’t walk by himself. the next morning hes like babe that was so fun round 2 of drinking tonight???????????? (horanghae pose)

seungkwan: BRUH KWAN GETS INTO (JOKE) ARGUMENTS WHILE HE’S DRUNK I HAVE NO DOUBTS!!! 90% of the time he’s trying to pick a fight with mingyu or chan i just know it I KNOW IT TO BE TRUE!! but with his s/o, i think he’s the type to be like HONEY THIS ONE IS FOR YOU and he starts belting a love ballad and singing directly to you HAHA!!! (vernon: why are u always trying to outsing everyone. no one else is singing.) seungkwan ignores vern’s comment and keeps going tho. he almost moves himself to tears by how much he loves you and how much love he’s pouring into his performance LOL. you tell him you love him too and that he doesnt have to sing VERY LOUDLY IN PUBLIC to profess his love !!! its not that serious pls sit down!!! and hes like MY LOVE FOR YOU IS SERIOUS . and that’s how you end up with a pouty and drunk kwan!!!!!!!!!

chan: oh my sweet chan,,he would just shower you with affection LMAO like “i love you. you’re amazing. you look so beautiful right now, you know that?” type of thing. he’s just the biggest simp hehe. i think hes also the type to just wanna have fun, he'd prob cheer you on if you took a shot like FUCK YEAH BABE GO OFF!!!! but i also think that he would be doing EVERYTHING for you. "i'll pour your shot!!!!! don't lift a finger SERIOUSLY!!!!!" asks you every 30min if youve had water. (you: yes. i had some 30min ago. when you GAVE ME SOME.) gets you snacks. if you needed to throw up he WILL hold your hair with a drink in the other hand (for him)!!!! he also helps you put your jacket on at the end of the night. it doesn't matter how drunk he is, he's firm on taking care of YOU!!! <3

✩‧₊˚(physically) affectionate drunks:

wonwoo: he’s all smiles for you hehe. clings onto your arm whenever you’re near him. he wouldn't be too loud or anything, but i think he'd shyly whisper compliments to you now and then about how you look nice or how much he loves you. i think he’d be one of the more chill people, he just feels happier than usual bc of the alcohol hehehhe. usually, wonu is pretty good at keeping himself composed when you show him affection. but when he’s drunk, i think he’d react a little more…he strikes me as someone who’s more verbally/physically affectionate when it’s just you two, but around friends/family he tones it down. but when he’s drunk i think he would be comfortable having you sit on his lap or having an arm around you <3

jihoon: i am convinced lee jihoon is a different man when he’s drunk!!!!!!!!!  i have a hot-ish take when it comes to drunk uji…omg woozi would SOOOO open up physically and emotionally to you..and he’d be the type to always, Always have an arm around your waist and constantly hold your hand, looking at you with a smile that leads all the way up to his eyes. he’s someone who has dealt with a lot in his life, but in this moment, he’s so grateful to be here with his friends, and someone he loves that also loves him for who he is. the reason i think he’d be like this is juts because like. he doesn’t drink much, but when he does, feelings he’s been keeping to himself finally come up to the surface. also his face, neck and ears are constantly bright red because of the alcohol LOL. but ALSO they'd be red the next day when he realizes how he behaved in front of you hehe…. don't tease him too much about it or he'll die of embarrassment!

seokmin: dont ask me why bc idk but i think he would ruffle your hair constantly because youre so cute. then he would get distracted and talk to the bros for a bit, look at you again and remember how cute you are and ruffle it again sorry i dont make the rules!!!!!!! dk is definitely the loud/funny drunk hehe…hes the type to be giggly/try to make everyone laugh :) but i think he’d definitely try to make you laugh the most !! mostly in terms of physical affection though, i think he’d just dote on you a lot…like you know in the dingo video how he kept kissing woozi??? yeah he does that to you. along with the hair ruffles. and the attempts to get you to laugh. good luck. you’re going to drown in affection from this man LOL. 

✩‧₊˚happy/chill drunks:

vernon: HE WILL CARE YOU this man is all vibes. he’s just here to have a good time lol. you’ll probably be the drunk one who needs to be taken care of :3 but if he was somehow convinced to get really drunk, i think he would still just be vibes. but happier vibes. i think he would just laugh at everything and keep a hand constantly on your knee heheh. also i think he would encourage seungkwan’s antics more when he’s drunk i’m just saying .

minghao: minghao is just relishing in the moment of enjoying his time with his friends and partner~ he doesn't strike me as someone who drinks much, kinda like vernon. he'd be more focused on having a good time with everyone! i think he's the type to have hangover remedies ready for you at home for the next day. i think he would also be the type of bf to know when to cut you off LMAO like “y/n’s had 4 shots….hyung STOP pouring them another one!!!!!!!!” he just seems like he'd be prepared to take care of his partner :) you're so lucky!! he’s also the type to observe you and take pictures/videos if you’re doing something funny while you’re drunk LMAO!!!!

joshua: josh is a giggly drunk i have no doubts. also in the dingo video that man was RED af!!! would probably be like “im fine im SO SOBER RIGHT NOW…BABE TELL THEM HOW SOBER I AM!!!” he is not sober. i also think he would be the type to compare hands with you LMAO. you’re just like ???? you know how big both our hands are???? you’re literally my bf???? and hes like I JUST WANTED TO CHECK OK!!! tbh he seems so fun to be around LMAO like he on the way to the hangout hes like “babe lets match each other if u drink i drink” and ur like HELLO SIR???????? WHO IS DRIVING US HOME?????? (jeonghan does and he sleeps over.)  he just wants to have FUN and let loose with the homies and his partner!!!! consequences are for TOMORROW, y/n!!!!!! (he might start sulking if you don’t agree to match him but it’s fine you both know your limits hehe)

jeonghan: i see him as someone who doesn’t go too wild when drinking. kinda like vernon and minghao, i think he’s more there for vibes than getting fucked up lol. if anything, he’s doting on you because he finds you so cute, especially when you’re drunk hehehe. HE would be the one to ask you to do aegyo or something and when you do he just dies of cuteness lmao. i think he would also tease you in silly ways, like convincing you that he and s.coups are actually long lost brothers who found each other in college, or that seungkwan is a natural blonde. and of course you believe him which is the funniest shit ever to him!!!! LMAO!!!!! your shock and wonder at his blatant lies is the cutest thing to him. don’t worry tho he’ll tell you the next day nothing he said was true, except for when he said he loves you :)

[jazzsonly]

౨ৎ blurb. ౨ৎ

ʜᴜɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ᴜ

pairing(s): amber freeman x g!p!reader

warning(s): no pronouns used. smut. blowjob. making out. recording. mentions of onlyfans. use of shaft and length. not too detailed or long bc it’s a blurb. (deal with it.) probably the worst thing you’ve ever read tbh.

summary: ❝ shut your mouth, i’m recording. ❞

inspired by.

────────✬────────

amber was touchy, it’s just who she was…especially with you. anyone who was with you in a room for more than a minute could pick up on this. the way she always jumped on you in excitement, her legs wrapped around your waist and her arms around your neck, while your hands rested under her thighs.

or the way she sat on your lap when you’re in the quad with core four. when she insisted on plucking your eyebrows, straddling you as you sat on the couch, legs settled on either side of you.

it was just normal for you two, and normal for anyone else around. as normal as it was, it was hard for you (no pun intended) to stay contained because amber was a pretty girl, a very pretty girl and you sometimes found it difficult to stay contained with her on your lap. it wasn’t just the fact that she was on your lap but that she was on your lap in the shortest mini skirt or the shortest biker shorts.

and she could never sit still, always making it a point to move her hips, rocking back and forth on you. claiming she were ‘trying to get comfortable.’ you just prayed to whatever in the sky that she couldn’t feel your hard-on when she was on your lap.

“you know…i’ve been thinking about doing onlyfans,” your eyes widen at amber’s statement.

it had been a lonely saturday, just you and amber at the apartment while the others went out for laser tag. you had been pretty worn at from work the day before so you decided to stay in and watch movies, amber claiming to be worn out too and offering to join you.

you were both on the couch, you arms stretched out and rested, legs opened in a manspread position. all while amber’s head rested in your lap.

“why would you need to do onlyfans?”

“ehh, just some extra cash. plus, our rent might go up.”

you clear your throat, swatting away the thoughts of the things amber would do for onlyfans. “why not just pick up extra shifts?”

“it’ll be no good, they cut my hours anyway cause the new hire.”

“well, whatever you’re comfortable with…i’ll support.”

the girl smirks, “you’ll support?”

“n—not like that, i meant—like i won’t judge you or be weird about.”

“so,” she pauses to sit up, looking at you more clearly. “you wouldn’t tune in?”

“wouldn’t that be weird?”

“no weirder than how you get hard every time i sit on your lap.”

your eyes widen and a nervous cough leaked out, “amber i—“

“relax,” she moves her position again, straddling your lap. “i like it. i like you.”

“you like me?”

“uh huh, and i want to make my first video with you.”

there were invisible question marks over your head. was this really happening?

“yo—you do?” amber smirks, she loved the affect she had on you. you were so nervous and lost in this moment. it turned her on.

she leans forward, her hand in the middle of your chest to steady herself, “i want you inside of my mouth.”

“amber, are you—i mean, i don’t want to mess up our friendship…plus, i’ve never done this before.”

“i’ll guide you…so, are you in or what?”

your bottom lip stuck between your teeth and your chewed on it in nervousness, of course you wanted to do it but what the fuck?

“you won’t even have to show your face, the camera will only come to your waist and i’ll be on my knees.”

you exhaled deeply, looking up at the girl, “ok.”

“yay!” she kisses your cheek in excitement before jumping up, she ran to her room to get the tripod and her phone.

your leg bounces rapidly, while she sets up the equipment near the coffee table.

“relax,” she hand comes down on your thigh to stop it from shaking. “you wanna kiss me first? help it be less nerve wrecking for you?”

you hesitantly nod, licking your lips.

the freeman places her other hand on your other thigh, steadying herself as she leans forward, running her tongue across your bottom lip. she can’t help but smirk at the hitch of breath you let out at her actions, she pushes forward, her lips pressing against yours and locking with them.

her seductive aura took over you, intoxicating you. as you start to relax, you get more comfortable and let you tongue run against her lips this time and she immediately opens her mouth, pressing her tongue against yours, letting you taste her.

her minty strawberry breath was now mixed with yours. her tongue rolls against yours, fighting a fight that she already won. and to dismay she pulls away, slowly.

her eyes study your face, your eyes still closed, lips still puckered and you lean forward into her, wanting more.

“mhm, ok stand up so i can line the camera up with your waist.”

easily, you comply to her demand, moving around the coffee table, you stand next to the tripod that held her phone and she slid down to her knees in front of you adjust the camera’s view.

you couldn’t help but look away in embarrassment, knowing your hard-on was showing through your sweatpants—the same sweatpants amber leans up and kisses the hem of.

“amber are you su—“

“shh, i’m recording.”

you tongue flys to the roof of your mouth, cutting your words off.

“look at me.” she softly demands and reluctantly you let your eyes meet her dark doe ones, that gracefully put you in a trance of obedience.

her nails run against your smooth waist before she hooks her fingers in the hem of your sweats and let them drop down to your ankle, her eyes going back and forth, from your eyes to very noticeable print that now showed through your plaid fruit of the loom boxers.

a content smile takes over as she runs her fingers across the seven and a half inches, feeling the slight veins.

if it wasn’t clear to her, it was clear to you that your body was on fire with a desire that grew more and more with each slight movement of your roommates.

taking you by surprise, the girl swiftly hooks her fingers into your boxers this time, letting them also drop your ankles, you length stood tall, whipping out, hitting her in the cheek softly.

“so big,” she utters straight into your eyes and somehow, if even possible you grew even more aroused.

you push your tongue slightly between your teeth and bite down softly when she grabs your base firmly, wasting no time to lick the tip. her salvia wet and moist on you, bringing you soft sensations.

she bobs her head down, only taking the tip into her mouth which caused you to lowly groan.

you had a few girlfriends in the past and though you didn’t go all the way, you’d gotten head before but not like this, not like amber. her movements were so precise, your pleasure was her’s and she wanted to make sure it was just right.

with a pop, she let you fall from her mouth, taking the left over spit and using it as lube to move her hand up and down your shaft, she had a tight grip and she twists when she comes to the base, going up and down with the same movements.

“fuck, amber.”

“mhm, feels good? tell me how good it feels, y/n.”

subconsciously, without any embarrassment you let out the pleasure. “it feels so good, amb. so good.”

she hums in satisfaction, taking you into her o shaped mouth once more, this time going deeper then just the tip. she bops her head up and down, eyes still locked on your half closed ones.

once again, amber studied you. the way you fell apart in her hands (and mouth), the way your head slightly threw back, and low curses feel from your mouth followed with an occasional ‘amb.’

she’d been wanting this moment for a long time and she finally got it.

making it a point to pleasure you, to send you over the edge, amber sucks air in through her nose and prepares to take all of you into her mouth, deepthroating you.

“oh fuck!” music to amber’s ears.

“amb, i’m so close! don’t stop!” without even knowing it, your fingers lace in the girls hair and grip tightly as you move her head just the way you want.

her eyes watery and her breath shortened, she let you do whatever you wanted.

once you feel that familiar pit in your stomach, you tug her hair and release yourself from her mouth, letting your cum squirt on her face without warning, but of course the freeman didn’t mind.

━━━ 👩🏽‍💻 a gift for all my beautiful, sexy, silly babygirls.