#pretending i do not see. what is happening with the game.

[puckinghischier]

i’m having soft quinn thoughts today and i have to shout them from the rooftops so everyone else can suffer with me.

but i absolutely cannot stop thinking about how quinn would always want to spend time with you, but feel guilty for how occupied he is during the season. every second of downtime he has is spent watching game film in your living room, studying tactics and plays. not that you ever complain. you’re content simply being in the same room as him, not taking for granted any amount of time you can be in his presence.

quinn’s attention is always half on you, no matter how hard he tries to focus. he steals more glances at you than he cares to admit, worried that one day you’ll get sick of sitting in silence while hockey occupies the space between you. but you never do. you keep yourself busy scrolling through your phone or reading the most recent book he bought you, never uttering a complaint. he’s tuned in to every fidget or movement you make, not wanting you to remove your always cold feet from under his warm legs to occupy yourself with something—or rather someone—better.

it surprises him that you never do. you never utter a word, not wanting to disrupt his work. every so often he’ll catch you looking back at him during one of his ‘quick’ glances, absorbing the warm smile you give him. sometimes you’ll quietly ask him if he wants anything from the kitchen when you stand to go fill up your water cup, but seem content to simply sit there with him as he mumbles to himself, jotting down notes as he watches.

tonight, he can’t help but notice—during his million and one glances at you—that your eyes are glued to the tv. your phone is laying, locked, in your lap, eyes following the puck as it’s shuffled across both screens from player to player. your body’s subtle reactions to the game aren’t lost on him either. the twitch of your foot anytime someone shoots the puck, the raise of your brow when a player on either team scores, the hitch in your breath anytime the two teams start to fight.

you can feel his eyes on you more than usual tonight, his (not so) subtle glances lingering longer than normal. you turn your head to meet his gaze, brows furrowed and a puzzled look on his face.

“what?” you whisper, flitting your eyes between his own and the tv, not wanting to miss any important moments.

“are you watching the game?” he looks at you like you have three heads.

you giggle in response, amused at his expression and surprised tone of his voice. “yeah, kinda. don’t really know what’s happening, though, if i’m honest.”

there was never a home game of quinn’s you missed. you went to support him every time you could, and loved seeing him in his element. but you can’t even pretend to understand the sport past each player wanting to get the puck into the opposing net. you didn’t understand the positions, the penalties, or anything surrounding the ins and outs of professional hockey. you never watched it growing up, and probably still wouldn’t watch it if you weren’t dating the captain of your new city’s team.

you had moved to vancouver for work, and knew nothing of the prominent hockey culture before you arrived. the sports presence buzzed all around you as you figured out the ins and outs of your new home, but it had no place in your daily routine. that is, until you hit it off with this insanely attractive stranger that seemed to frequent the same coffee shop as you. you accidentally cut him in line one day, offering to pay for his coffee to make up for it, but he paid for yours instead. a ‘pay it forward’ war was started between the two of you until he was stood waiting at the door with your usual order one morning, requesting more than just a name and the fact you drank a large, vanilla iced coffee with chocolate syrup lining the cup every morning.

when he realized you were likely the only person in the city he now calls home that doesn’t know who he is, it only piqued his interest in the pretty coffee shop stranger further. the morning meetings at the shop turned into an exchange of numbers, which developed into him meeting you for lunch on your break when he was in town, that then escalated into dinner dates and spontaneous outings, and now it’s found its permanence in you moving in with him a few months ago.

you were…indifferent, when he revealed to you who he was and what all his career entailed, uttering out a simple “oh! that’s cool! makes sense why you’re always at the gym, now” later explaining that you thought he was just really into fitness and maybe worked as a personal trainer or some equivalent. when he first invited you to games he tried to tell you a little bit about the rules, but assumed you’d catch on as you watched (hopefully) more and more of his sport. you always told him how much you enjoyed watching him in his element, but never asked many questions past if the other team was supposed to be good or not. he assumed you understood enough to keep up, knowing how intelligent and observant you are, but he tried to refrain from talking about work too much with you. when he’s with you, he wants to be present with you, not hockey.

which is why he feels so guilty at times like this, watching film while you’re sitting next to him. it feels like you’re two people who happen to be in the same room, completely in your own worlds. until tonight.

“you…never watch the games with me. you always have a book or something,” he reaches over to pause the game, still a little shocked.

you shrug at him. “didn’t feel like reading tonight. not really anything new on my socials, either. so i figured i’d just watch with you for once.”

“and you weren’t gonna say anything?”

this earns a real laugh out of you, not understanding why this is such a big shock for him. it’s not like you’ve ever told him you don’t like hockey. you just have never really cared to watch it if isn’t the one playing. but you’ve been wanting to learn more about it recently, tired of not being able to participate in the games like the other women do when they’re watching their husband or boyfriend play.

“why would i? you’re trying to work, i’m just trying to learn a little bit,” you reply, the hint of a laugh on each word as you say it.

quinn just blinks at you, trying not to get his hopes up at your expression, not knowing just how far you want to go with your quest for knowledge.

“since when do you want to learn about hockey? why now?” he questions, trying not to sound accusatory or snarky, but genuinely curious as to what you’ll answer.

“i’ve always wanted to learn, ever since that first game i went to, but you don’t seem to like to talk about it outside of the rink, so i don’t really ask much. me and google have become very good friends as of late,” you shrug out another answer for him. “plus, when you’re watching games at night like this, i don’t want to keep talking and asking a million questions while you’re trying to work, so i force myself not to watch to keep from distracting you.”

quinn sits a little straighter, now worried he’s made it seem like hockey is this forbidden subject between the two of you.

“sweetheart, i don’t like talking about hockey outside of the rink because i don’t ever want you to think that’s all we ever talk about, not because we can’t talk about it,” he tries to defend himself, even though there’s no accusation. “if you want to learn about the game, please, ask me questions. i- god, i’d love nothing more than to teach you about it. i hate sitting here in silence every night i’m home, worried you’re going to eventually get pissed at me because all i do during the season is watch old games.”

you grin at his slight panic, endeared by how worried he was about your feelings this whole time, appreciating his intention with the unspoken rule.

“q, i never asked about it because i didn’t want you to be upset because i kept bringing up work when you’re away from it all,” your smile only grows at the fact you were both worried about upsetting the other for no reason at all.

the slight tension in his shoulders fades at your words, relieved that you’re not upset or feel like he made it seem like you had no place in that part of his life.

“alright, well, fire away, then,” he gives you the floor, pressing play so the players on the tv screens move once again, now glancing at you every few seconds to catch any looks of confusion or interest in any particular play or action.

the rest of the night is spent playing and pausing the game over and over again, question after question flying out of your mouth. anything from why the faceoff is from a certain spot on the ice to what a particular penalty looks like is spoken the second the thought enters your brain. quinn takes his time explaining every answer to you, even rewinding and pulling up other examples to make sure you understand what he’s telling you.

at the end of the night he realizes just how much more he caught of the game while answering your questions. there’s several times you picked up on things he never has before. like why one player seems to always place his stick so close to another player’s skates while he’s chasing him. or why a certain goalie seems to lean left everytime instead of right, no matter where the puck is coming from.

he’s been able to add several tells about players in his notes, ready to take them to practice the next morning and change his game to accommodate his opponents habits. and when they win their game a few days later, thanks to your observations during the impromptu hockey 101 class in your living room, he revels in the fact that even though you know so little about his sport and his job, you ended up being one of the biggest parts of their success.

from then on, the nights of sitting in silence while he studies film are nonexistent. every time he brings work home with him, you’re right there next to him, enthralled in whatever opponent’s game they’re facing that week. he loves that you’re so observant, paying attention to the smallest of details someone who’s been playing for years becomes blind to. and he really loves turning you into a bottomless pit of hockey information, seeing how you absorb each ‘lesson’ from day to day.

when they break through their slump, a big part of that accredited to your nights spent questioning quinn, and he sees you start really participating in his games, he can’t help but fall that much deeper in love with you. watching you scream and complain about bad calls with the rest of the fans in rogers arena, and reading your texts to him about your thoughts on his away games you watch on tv, swells his heart in a way he never thought to be possible.

plus, he always knew it was only a matter of time before you fell victim to the hockey atmosphere of the city. no one can really resist the pull of vancouver hockey, especially not when it’s captain has anything to do with it.

[kookinglikeachef]

remember that tiktok prank where the girl pretends to give her bf head but she put her hair up and grabbed a remote from under the couch he was sitting on instead? could you do svt reaction to y/n doing that to them?

Seungcheol

Cocky mf. The moment you’re crawling between his legs while he’s lying in bed, reading, he’d close his book and place his hands behind his head. On the inside you’re trying so hard not to laugh because Cheol really thinks he’s getting it SLOPPY ASF. However, you are giving him that look and he’s never been more excited. That is until you also pulled out your own book and laid beside him. A deep sigh falls from his lips and he drops his arms to his sides. To add insult to injury you have the nerve to kiss his cheek and giggle innocently.

Jeonghan

Would probably already know that it’s a prank because you tease and prank each other regularly. But a part of him would still fall for it. He’d run his fingers through your hair, thumb grazing the side of your face and lifts your chin slightly. That alone makes you want to forget the prank. But powering through, you bring your face closer to his growing bulge only to blow a raspberry on his stomach. Not the blow he was expecting. He’ll let out a breathy laugh and pretend like he wasn’t falling for it. Rest assured, he’ll tease you the same way next time.

Joshua

Unless you’re really trying to get fucked I suggest you sit your ass down. He will not accept that it’s a prank. You started it. Now you have to finish it.

Jun

Okay so, you jokingly get on your knees in front of him. Jokingly caress his thighs. He’s jokingly throwing his back. You jokingly take his cock out and into your mouth. And jokingly give him bomb ass head. He’ll jokingly cum. Then you jokingly tell him it was a TikTok prank. And he jokingly tells you that it’s your turn.

Hoshi

You already know he’s hype the minute you bend between his thighs. He immediately stops whatever he’s doing. There’s a smile on his face assured as he sinks back, arms wide across the back of the couch, and eyes closed. He’s waiting for something to happen, that sloppy top, gawk gawk, and it’s not. He doesn’t see when you go under the couch to grab the tv remote that you had planted there earlier. But when you get up, he’d open one eye, looking around confusedly, and you’re sitting next to him with your legs crossed, scrolling through channels. “Wanna watch Squid Game?” You’d ask. He'll say yes but his face clearly says no. You’ve totally shattered his heart.

Wonwoo

He’s gaming when you go into his room and suddenly stood in front of him. Moves his headphones slightly behind his ear and stares up at you and asks if you’re okay with a hand reaching for yours. When you crouched between his legs and he noticed what you were doing, he’ll blush and probably won’t meet your gaze, but he also wouldn’t question you any further. He’ll wait with anticipation for your next move. Until you reveal that it’s a prank, his face would turn red and he’ll feel a little ashamed.

Woozi

He’s already relaxing when you caught him working on music and mixing vocals. He’d start smiling and grabbing your hair and tells you that you have to make it fast. Then you go down and come back up with a pen, “was that fast enough for you?” You asked innocently. Just fucking blinks at you. And now he’s humiliated. Dignity? What dignity?

Dokyeom

Absolutely do not play in his face like this. He’s swallowing hard, palms sweaty, and breath hitching when he feels the warmth of yours so, so close to his crotch. He’s prayed for times like this. Waiting for you to give him the most gut wrenching, toe curling, finger bitting, eye rolling, ass clenching, soul sucking head he could ask for. Unfortunately that prayer would not be answered because when you grabbed a stray hair tie from the floor then joined him, he’s DUMBFOUNDED and covering his face with his hands. Ears turning red from embarrassment.

Mingyu

PLS you’re gonna have his big ass feeling like a damn FOOL. He’s like a puppy the minute you get down on your knees. The prank hadn’t even started yet and he’s already foaming at the mouth. A small noise would escape his throat the moment you bend forward and he’s basically pushing his hips into your face. You try to bite back your laughter when you pulled back with a chapstick you had conveniently put under the couch and plop into his lap. Hands on his face trying to get him to look at you again even though he was refusing. He’ll be smiling but he’s definitely annoyed. “Talk to me when you’re done being a tease,” he’d tell you before walking away.

Minghao

His eyes would be glued to you wondering what you were up to. So when you position yourself perfectly between his legs, he folds his arms with raised eyebrows. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Your little TikTok prank?” He didn’t have to clock you so quickly but just give him that neck anyways.

Seungkwan

BYE. He’ll get so mad at you for getting his hopes up. And then get mad at himself for getting his own hopes up. You give this man a hard on and then reveal it was just a little jokey joke, he’s eye-rolling and mean muggin you all day. Attitude on top of more attitude. Will completely and I mean COMPLETELY ignore your existence.

Vernon

Just sits there. You drop to your knees and push his legs open a bit and he literally just sits still, no reaction or anything. It’s so awkward cause you’re tying up your hair and making those eyes like he’s about to get that gluck gluck 9000 double handed twisted vacuum sealed super max deluxe. You look up and he’s just staring down at you like 👁️👄👁️?? Talking about some, “Y/N, get off the floor.” While pushing your head away. You’re like 😐 “really Hansol.” And you get up, so embarrassed. Now he’s really not getting the gluck. Then he’s so confused when you’re annoyed with him later.

DINO

Chan loves going down on you. But even more than that he LOVES when you go down on him. Shit absolutely destroys him. So he wouldn’t understand the prank. You’re warming up your jaw and when he decides to lean forward and kiss your forehead, you begin to feel bad for what happens next. You caress his knees, separate his legs, and finally lean in… to grab the couch pillow that had fallen on the floor. His shoulders slump and he looks as if he’s on the verge of crying when you explain the prank. On the outside he’s smiling but on the inside it’s just pain. Please give him the suck he deserves.

[sucodelaranja86]

Ahem..may I request teasing poor gf young-mi? I absolutely love her and there’s NOTHING for my poor girl

- you're so cute! : ★

featuring: young-mi kim x reader

summary: your girlfriend is very shy and timid, but what's the deal when their partner just happens to be a little teasing menace?

warnings: angst at the end.

A/N: AAAAAAAAAA A YOUNG-MI REQUEST FINALLY I LOVE HEERR 💕 also, she survives in this 😋 oh, and pretend the number of the room was not 6, but 7.

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

➤ When you two first met each other, Young-mi reminded you of a rabbit or a small hamster that flinched and ran away at the smallest movements or threats.

So when you two started dating, it wasn't a surprise you treated her like she was made out of glass.

For starters, based on the scene she called 246 a "charming prince", i think she would be really down bad for the 'classical gentleman' behavior, but wouldn't in 100 years get the courage to tell you. HOWEVER, she makes it so damn obvious you discovered it in the first week (and used it against her).

Opening doors for her, pulling out chairs, offering to to carry heavy things. If you want to see her turn the color of a tomato, do one of these things while she is distracted.

Now, inside the games the situation doesn't change that much. Let's say you both were dating before you two ended up in the game.

In the first game, when you find out that the 'crazy' guy was right, and the game was actually deadly, the first thing you do is put her behind you. Holding her tightly to avoid that the panicking people pushed her. Of course, when the game ended, you two were both shocked and relieved that you didn't get shot.

However, even in this situation, you didn't lose the opportunity to mess with her. Creating a light atmosphere in the middle of the panic.

"Oh, princess Kim Young-mi! I shall give my life for you!"

"S-stop! This is se-serious!" she stuttered. An adorable sight, if you must admit.

In the second game, she called a tall woman who you both sympathized very much due to no one wanting to form a team with her. You, of course, didn't lose the chance to tease her for her courage.

"Someone is getting bold, finally?"

"It was nothing!" she stammered.

The team consisted of you, Young-mi, a man with his mother, and the lady who you reminded yourself to thank later for encouraging your girlfriend so much.

At lunch time, you were sitting with the same group you were matched for the previous game. Oh, and of course you were not eating normally.

"Open wide, sweetie!" you said as you pointed a spoonful of rice in front of her mouth. You were glued to her, with your thighs touching, your arm wrapped around her shoulder, you head laying on the top of hers. Who would you be without embarrassing her at every second of the game?

"This is embarrassing..." she stuttered again, trying to make herself look smaller and smaller at every passing second. Yonsik was making disgusted noises, Hyun-ju was quietly laughing to herself, and Jang only muttered something among the lines of "ah, couples these days..."

-

As the third game started, you haven't separated from Young-mi. As each round passed, you ran close to her to each room as fast as you both could. However, close to the end as the female voice announced the number '7' you and your group were struggling to find a room, until a familiar voice called,

"Here!"

It's Hyun-ju! Thank God!

As you ran beside her, you could notice you were both going to be the last ones to reach the room. And as the sight of the open door reached your vision, even if it wasn't one of your talents, you quickly did the math that the number of people would not be correct by one.

You didn't have much time to think as a young man quickly pushed you both to the ground, running away before you could even glance at his face.

As the time ran out, you realized that if one of you two didn't enter the room, Young-mi and everyone you had formed a close bound inside this game would quickly perish.

Using the last bit of strength you had left, you yanked the small girl by her hair (something you honestly felt a bit bad for) and threw her to the arms of 120. The boy with the number '333' on his jacket closing the door shortly after.

As the time ran out and the doors closed, you slowly began to walk to the door of the room she was in, peeking on the small space between the locked room and the outside.

"Young-mi. You sure are slow, aren't you?" you called her. Not in a sad or melancholic tone, but one that held love. You only wanted to see her one last time, not give her another reason to be saddened.

"NO! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO-!"

As she reached the door, she tried desperately to open it, her attempts all futile. You didn't dare to look back, only gazing at her softly.

Before you could say something one more time, your body felt numb as your vision began to fade.

Her adorable face being the last thing you see.

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

A/N: lowkey didn't like how this turned out 😞

[therogueflame]

The Diplomat (Part Two)

Hi my angels!

Here is part two to The Diplomat , this part is the sexy part, so reader's discretion is advised. I had so much fun writing this, and am definitely lining up more nasty one shots to write. :) (ñuha zaldrītsos means "my little dragon" in High Valyrian)

✨My Masterlist✨

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+. dubcon, violent anger, dominance, oral (f!recieving), sex (p in v), multiple positions, fluids in mouth(s), lil bit of praise kink, lil bit of breeding kink, Daemon Targaryen, no use of y/n, fem!reader

Daemon Targaryen x Wife!Reader

MDNI!!!

The tension between you and Daemon had stretched thin, the days following the reconciliation ceremony feeling like a fragile truce. The whispers had started, first in the shadows and then louder, until they rang in Daemon's ears, carried on the tongues of servants and lords alike. He had done his best to ignore it, to focus on the duties of the City Watch, to retreat into the work that allowed him to pretend the storm brewing within his chest didn’t exist.

But it was no use.

You were standing by the window in your chambers when the door slammed open, the force of it shaking the wooden frame. His eyes, wild with fury, locked onto you instantly. The air between you crackled with the intensity of the moment, his anger an almost physical presence. His hand gripped the doorframe, knuckles white, and his breath came fast, his chest heaving with the weight of what he had heard.

“Do you think me a fool?” His voice was low, dangerous. He took a step forward, his boots thudding heavily on the floor. “I know what they’ve been saying. I know what you’ve done.”

You didn’t flinch, didn’t back away. You remained still, though the fire in his gaze burned through you like a brand. You had expected this confrontation, knew it would come, though you had hoped to delay it for just a little longer. The look on his face was one of a man betrayed, though it was you who had been forced to act without his knowledge.

Daemon took another step toward you, his fists clenched at his sides. “You think you can control everything? The Blackwoods, the Brackens... you made a fool of me.”

You met his gaze, your expression calm, as though the tempest raging before you was nothing more than a mild storm. “I did what had to be done.”

His eyes narrowed, a sneer twisting his lips. “What had to be done?” He spat the words, stepping closer until the heat of his anger seemed to suffocate the space between you. “You went behind my back. You thought I would be too ignorant to see your schemes, to feel your manipulation in every move?”

You didn’t respond immediately. The silence in the room was thick, heavy, suffocating. His fists tightened at his sides, his jaw clenched in rage as he waited for you to explain yourself.

“What were you trying to prove, hmm?” he growled, voice low but seething. “That I’m not capable? That you, with your little games, can do better than me?”

His words hit like a slap, and you finally allowed yourself to speak, your voice cutting through the thick tension with the precision of a blade. “You’re too blinded by your pride to see what needs to be done, Daemon. Your anger would have destroyed everything, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.”

Daemon’s face twisted, fury turning to something darker, more dangerous. He took another step closer, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your face. “You think you know better than me?” His words were a growl, raw and vicious. “You, who’s hidden behind your little schemes, who’s used the power of my name like a dagger in the dark?”

“Don’t make this about me,” you replied, your voice a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything you had to say. “This was about keeping the peace. You didn’t want to listen to anyone but yourself. I did what was necessary.”

His hand shot out, gripping your arm with such force that it burned, his nails biting into your skin. His face was inches from yours, his breath ragged as he stared down at you, his anger a storm raging in his chest. “Necessary?” he spat. “You’ve humiliated me.”

The words stung, but you didn’t flinch. You let him seethe, let him vent the fury that had been boiling over. You knew it would pass—just as the storm always did. But in this moment, the words he spoke, the anger that poured from him, felt like it might consume you both.

You tilt your head slightly, your gaze steady, and your voice, soft yet cutting, drips with a kind of quiet venom. “If you were half the man your brother is, none of this would have been necessary.”

The words hang in the air between you, like a challenge he’s powerless to take back. The comparison to Viserys, a man Daemon has always despised, would wound him deeply. It’s not just an insult; it’s a reminder that his volatile nature has cost him the very thing he craves—respect.

Daemon's grip on your arm tightened painfully, his eyes flashing with a dangerous mix of rage and hurt. For a moment, you thought he might strike you, his free hand clenching into a fist at his side. But instead, he released you suddenly, as if your skin had burned him.

He took a step back, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. When he spoke again, his voice was low and cold. "You dare compare me to him? To that weak, indecisive fool who sits on the throne?"

You stood your ground, even as your heart raced. "At least Viserys knows how to rule without letting his temper destroy everything around him."

Daemon's laugh was bitter, bordering on manic. "And you think you're so clever, don't you? Playing your little games, thinking you can control everything from the shadows."

"I'm not trying to control everything, Daemon," you replied, your voice steady despite the tension crackling between you. "I'm trying to protect what matters. The realm, our family, you—"

"Protect me?" Daemon snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I don't need your protection. I don't need you meddling in affairs that don't concern you."

You took a step forward, closing the distance he had created. "Everything that happens in this realm concerns me. I am your wife, the mother of your child. Did you think I would stand idly by while you tore everything apart with your rage?"

Daemon's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You went behind my back. You conspired with Viserys, made decisions without me. How am I supposed to trust you now?"

"Trust?" you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your heart. "This was never about trust, Daemon. It was about doing what needed to be done, what you refused to see."

His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching beneath his skin. "And you think that gives you the right to go behind my back? To make me look weak in front of the entire court?"

You took a step closer, your gaze never wavering from his. "You made yourself look weak the moment you let your temper dictate your actions. I did what I had to do to protect this family, to protect the realm."

Daemon's eyes flashed dangerously at your words, a storm of emotions raging behind them. His hand shot out, gripping your arm again, but this time there was a desperation in his touch that belied his anger.

"Protect the realm?" he spat, his voice low and venomous. "You think I don't want to protect it? Everything I've done has been for this family, for our legacy!"

You didn't flinch from his grip, meeting his gaze steadily. "And yet your actions threaten to tear it all apart. Your pride, your anger - they blind you to the consequences."

Daemon’s grip remained firm, the tension in the air thickening with each passing second. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and rough.

"You think you can outsmart me, control everything from the shadows?" he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

His free hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair, tugging you closer. His touch was a confusing mixture of dominance and a deeper, unspoken hunger.

The raw intensity of his presence, the heat of his body pressed so close to yours, made it impossible to think clearly. The anger in his eyes hadn't quite faded, but it was now laced with something darker, more primal, as though his fury had been redirected into a desperate need to prove something. His thumb traced the curve of your jaw, the roughness of his touch contrasting with the lingering softness of your skin.

It was almost as if he were testing your limits again—not with words or anger now, but with an entirely different kind of power. His movements were slow, deliberate, the control he wielded over you shifting from violent to something more intimate, dangerous in a new way. You could feel the struggle in his chest, the tension still there, but now it was tangled with a strange pull, one that drew you closer despite everything.

In the space between your pounding heartbeats, you searched his eyes, looking for some semblance of the man you once knew. The Daemon who had swept you off your feet, who had loved you with a fierceness that both terrified and exhilarated you. But in the depths of his stormy gaze, you found only shadows of that man, clouded by rage and feeling betrayed.

"Daemon," you began, unsure if it was a plea or a warning.

His response was to crush his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his other hand still tangled in your hair. You gasped into his mouth, caught off guard by the ferocity of his need. His tongue forced its way inside your mouth, claiming every inch of you as though he feared it would be taken away.

The kiss was ferocious, almost punishing. Daemon's grip on your hair tightened as he deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding down to grasp your waist and pull you flush against him. There was no tenderness in his touch, only raw need and the lingering anger that still simmered beneath the surface.

You found yourself responding despite your better judgment, your hands coming up to grip his shoulders. The familiar heat of his body against yours ignited something primal within you, a stark contrast to the tension that had been building between you for days.

Daemon broke the kiss abruptly, his chest heaving as he stared down at you with dark, stormy eyes. "Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "To have me at your mercy?" Before you could respond, he ripped the front of your gown open, thread and beads flying everywhere.

You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed skin, Daemon's hands rough as they roamed over your body. His touch was possessive, demanding, as if he were trying to reclaim something he felt he had lost.

"Daemon," you breathed, your voice caught between desire and uncertainty.

He silenced you with another bruising kiss, backing you up until you hit the wall. His body pressed against yours, trapping you between the cold stone and the heat of his form. You could feel the hardness of his arousal against your thigh, a stark reminder of the passion that still burned between you despite everything.

Daemon's lips moved to your neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks. His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging in almost painfully. "You think you can control me?" he growled against your skin. "You think you know better than I do?" You couldn’t contain your moans as he left searing kisses on your exposed skin. The sound of you only sent Daemon further into a frenzy. His hand slipped between your legs, hiking up your skirts. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers found your wet heat.He stroked you roughly, making your hips buck against his hand. Daemon's eyes were dark with lust and lingering anger as he watched your reactions.

Daemon's fingers moved against you with a desperate urgency, his touch rough and demanding. You gasped, your head falling back against the wall as pleasure coursed through your body. Despite the anger and hurt between you, your body responded to his familiar touch.

"Look at me," Daemon growled, his free hand gripping your chin and forcing your gaze to meet his. His eyes were dark, stormy with a mix of desire and lingering fury. "Is this what you wanted? To have this much power over me?"

You couldn't find the words to respond, caught between the intensity of his gaze and the sensations he was drawing from your body. Your hips rocked against his hand, seeking more of that exquisite friction.

With a low growl, Daemon withdrew his hand, leaving you aching and wanting. In one swift motion, he spun you around, pressing you face-first against the cold stone wall.

Daemon pressed himself against you from behind, his body hard and unyielding. You could feel the heat of him through your clothes, his breath hot on your neck as he spoke.

"You've played your games," he growled, his voice low and dangerous in your ear. "Now it's my turn."

His hands were rough as they hiked up your skirts, exposing you to the cool air. You gasped as he pressed himself against you, the hardness of his arousal evident through his breeches.

"Daemon," you breathed.

He responded by nipping at your neck, his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin. "Don't speak," he commanded. "You've said enough."

You heard the rustle of fabric as he freed himself from his breeches. Then, without warning, he thrust into you in one hard stroke. You cried out in pleasure and his hand found the front of your throat.

The feeling of Daemon entering you so forcefully drew a gasp from your lips. His hand tightened slightly on your throat as he began to move, his thrusts hard and deep. There was no tenderness in his movements, only raw need and lingering anger.

You couldn't respond, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. The cold stone of the wall pressed against your cheek, a stark contrast to the heat of Daemon's body behind you. His free hand gripped your hip bruisingly tight as he drove into you again and again.

He turned you to face him once more, and a sudden shift sent a jolt through your body as Daemon's mouth replaced the feeling of his cock. His tongue laved over your sensitive flesh, drawing a gasping moan from your lips. Your legs trembled, barely able to support you as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Daemon's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you with an almost feral intensity. His tongue delved deep, tasting every inch of you, while his nose brushed against your most sensitive spot. The contrast between his earlier roughness and this focused attention left you reeling.

You reached for him, your fingers tangling in his silver hair as you fought to stay upright. "Daemon," you breathed, his name like a prayer on your lips.

He growled against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs. Your hands gripped his shoulders as you begged for mercy on your shaky legs.

Daemon's mouth continued its relentless assault, his tongue delving deep inside you before flicking against your most sensitive spot. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out as waves of pleasure crashed over you. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, holding you in place as he devoured you.

You cried out, your fingers tangling in his silver hair as you felt yourself nearing the edge. "Daemon, please," you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or never cease.

He responded by redoubling his efforts, his tongue moving faster and more insistently against you. One of his hands left your thigh, his fingers finding your bud and stroking in tandem with his mouth.

The dual sensations were too much. With a keening cry, you came undone, your body shuddering as ecstasy washed over you. Daemon carried you to the bed, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release. He laid you down roughly, his eyes dark with a mixture of lust and lingering anger as he loomed over you. Without a word, he gripped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling you up onto your hands and knees.

You felt his body press against yours from behind, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of your torn gown. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back as he leaned in close to your ear.

“Tell me what you want, ñuha zaldrītsos,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous in your ear.

Your mind raced, caught between lingering anger and overwhelming desire. Part of you wanted to resist, to maintain some semblance of control. But another part craved his touch, his dominance, the raw passion that had always existed between you.

“You," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you, Daemon."

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Not good enough," he said, his free hand trailing down your side to grip your hip. "Be specific."

You felt your breath catch in your throat, torn between desire and the remnants of your earlier anger. Daemon's body was hot against yours, his grip on your hair unyielding. You could feel the hard length of him pressed against you, a reminder of his barely contained need.

"I want..." you began, your voice trembling slightly. "I want you inside me. I want to feel you, all of you."

Daemon's grip tightened, pulling your head back further. "And?" he prompted, his voice a low growl.

You swallowed hard, heat flooding your cheeks. "I want you to take me. To claim me. To remind me why I'm yours."

A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled in his chest. Without warning, he thrust into you in one hard stroke, burying himself to the hilt. You cried out, the sudden fullness sending shockwaves through your body.

Daemon set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against yours with each powerful thrust. His grip on your hair remained tight, holding your head back as he drove into you again and again. The room filled with the sounds of skin against skin and your breathless moans.

"Is this what you wanted?" Daemon growled, his voice rough with exertion and lingering anger. "To be reminded of who you belong to?"

You could only gasp in response, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. Daemon's free hand gripped your hip bruisingly tight, pulling you back to meet each thrust. The angle allowed him to hit that spot deep inside you that made you see stars.

"Answer me," he demanded, giving your hair a sharp tug.

"Yes," you managed to choke out between moans. "Yes, Daemon, please..."

Daemon's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. You could feel the tension building in your core, pleasure coiling tighter with each movement. His hand left your hip, snaking around to find your sensitive bud. His fingers circled it roughly, drawing a sharp cry from your lips.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice low and possessive in your ear. "No matter what games you play, what schemes you devise. You will always be mine."

His words, combined with the relentless assault on your senses, pushed you over the edge. You came with a keening cry, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over you. Daemon didn't slow his pace, fucking you through your orgasm and drawing out your pleasure until it bordered on overstimulation.

With a final, powerful thrust, Daemon found his own release. He groaned, his hot seed coating every inch of your pulsing insides. Before you could take a breath, he flipped you once more to your back, and pushed his fingers inside of you. He wanted his seed to be buried inside your womb. As he retrieved his fingers, he brought them to your lips.

“Taste,” he commanded.

The room was spinning, but you didn't dare defy him. You parted your lips, and Daemon pressed his seed-covered fingers to your mouth. You closed your eyes, enjoying the tang of iron and salt that filled your senses.

"Mmm," Daemon purred, pleased with your submission. His grip on your hair loosened, allowing you to catch your breath. "That's my good girl."

You swallowed the evidence of his claim on you, the thick liquid coating your tongue.

Your heart was still pounding, body trembling from the intensity of what had just transpired. Daemon's weight pressed you into the mattress, his breath hot against your neck. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room your ragged breathing.

Slowly, Daemon lifted his head to look at you. His eyes, which had been stormy with anger and lust, now held a mixture of satisfaction and lingering frustration. He studied your face intently, as if searching for something. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch gentler now as his thumb traced your lower lip.

"You drive me mad," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "In every way possible."

You gazed up at Daemon, your breath still coming in shallow pants. The intensity of his stare made your heart race, a mix of lingering desire and uncertainty coursing through you. His touch on your cheek was gentle now, a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before.

"Daemon," you whispered, unsure of what to say. The anger between you hadn't fully dissipated, but it had transformed into something else - a raw, primal energy that left you feeling both satisfied and vulnerable.

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. His silver hair fell around your face like a curtain, shielding you both from the world outside. For a moment, you could almost forget the argument that had led to this, the schemes and secrets that had driven a wedge between you.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief and exhaustion. The wounds of your actions would take time to heal, but for now, the storm had passed once again.

The tension in the room slowly ebbed as you both lay there, bodies intertwined and breathing gradually steadying. Daemon's weight against you was both comforting and overwhelming, a reminder of the intensity that always existed between you. His fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, the gentleness of his touch a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before.

You turned your head slightly, meeting Daemon's gaze. The air between you felt heavy with unspoken words, the argument that had led to this moment still hanging over you both.

"Daemon," you began softly, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

He silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. When he pulled back, Daemon's eyes searched yours, his expression softening slightly. 

"I know," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "We still have much to discuss."

You nodded, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. "We do," you agreed softly. "But perhaps... not right now."

[jellybell92]

Jschlatt Imagines

(Twitch couple edition)

I'm back with another installment of Jschlatt imagines for y'all! This time I'm writing a hc in which he and his partner mess with each other on stream. You know, being all cute and shit.

Pure fluff and targeted towards gn and/or fem readers. Enjoy!

One day, Schlatt calls you into his room and sits you down to tell you he wants to start streaming together.

You're elated because you realize your relationship has gotten super serious if that means he wants to show you off online

At first you do little things here and there to show that you're a couple, like use each other's headphones or munch on a snack that only Schlatt would eat (that one specific brand of beef jerky).

Chat catches on and teases you about it. You play dumb at first and pretend to be oblivious, but the signs are definitely there

You both decide to up the ante one day. With Schlatt's approval, you wear his NY hat during your stream while he's streaming too.

You blush and try to keep the bit going for as long as you can, but chat sees right through it. Eventually you give in and tell them that you live with Schlatt

Of course they go absolutely batshit and spam your screen. You decide to play Deal or No Deal in celebration. Amidst all the electric energy in chat, a TTS pops up and reads aloud:

jschlatt donated $50!

Give me my hat back bitch

You chuckle and smirk, running your tongue along the inside of your mouth.

“You're gonna have to take it from me, big guy. I'm not prying this thing off my head if it's the last thing I do. Back me up, chat!”

A wave of messages come in and defend your honor. You flip your hair back smugly, running your finger along the brim of the hat to show it off.

All of a sudden, a mysterious tall figure bursts through the door and starts shooting nerf bullets at you. You scream and fall out of your chair, curling up on the ground. Schlatt strolls into the room and rips the hat off your head, bending down and kissing you on the cheek. “Thanks, toots.” And with that he leaves.

Meanwhile, Schlatt's chat explodes as they connect the dots. He returns to his seat and dramatically places the hat on his head, observing himself in the camera and nodding. “Sorry, chat. Had to take care of some business.” He's smirking and laughing maniacally as chat screams over what just happened.

Ever since then, y'all's appearances have become more frequent. Sometimes when you're playing a game or reacting to content, Jay will open your door and throw Jambo or {redacted} into your room if he's had enough of them.

Y'all will have spontaneous nerf gun fights, whether they're on Schlatt's stream or yours. It'll end up with either one of you on the floor, panting heavily and begging for your life or with you running around the house trying to get away.

Your audiences eat up the moments that you're on stream together. They'll make thirst edits and TTS them, causing you to blush and hide behind your hands while Schlatt takes on a more extreme route. “If you do that one more time, I'm banning you, fucker?” He threatens. “Let's get one thing straight. No one can thirst over them as much as I can.” He cocks his fake gun and stares into the lens with a straight face, making you laugh. Oh, that's definitely getting clipped.

Sometimes when Schlatt is streaming, you'll bring him a snack or make him lunch when he forgets. You'll tiptoe behind him and poke his shoulder playfully (fully knowing that he can see you, but it's just fun to tease), placing the plate down in front of him. Sometimes he'll take it and thank you quickly, engrossed in whatever game he's in. Other times he'll swivel around and give you a kiss, encouraging you to stay for a while and hang out.

He'll plop you on his lap and point to the screen, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Look babe! I got a bullseye. I told you I had good aim." He winks at you and plops an apple slice into his mouth, taking another one and holding it up to you.

You take it in your mouth and bite down, muttering, "Yes, Jay. I see that. Nice job, baby." After a while of jokes and teasing, he'll boot you out of the room and his sarcastic persona will switch on again. "Moment of weakness for my person, chat. Alright, where were we?"

Sometimes when you've been streaming for too long late at night, Schlatt will TTS you with, “come to bed, stupid” or he'll physically walk in there and stare at the lens until you get the hint. You'll sigh and smile, glancing at him and rubbing your eyes. “Alright guys, duty calls. See you in the next one.”

Your viewership goes up steadily each time you stream with Schlatt. It was never about the numbers, but with the way your audience is so invested in your relationship, it makes you want to stream with him more and more.

It also makes living with him a lot more comfortable. Now you no longer feel the pressure to hide when there's a camera around. The tension that once lingered between you is gone, and now you can freely make content whenever you please.

[missdynamighttt]

Hiii!! I was hoping if you could do an Angst abt Pro!katsuki who in one fight is against Villain!reader who was Katsukis friend/crush (u can choose!!) back in UA but Reader randomly stopped attending at school and this was their first encounter after reader left.

angst SCARES me, but this was fun!! im sorry if it took so long oml, i didn't know how to approach this at first because i am NOT a PURE angst writer, but i hope i did your request justice 💜💜

the alleyway was quiet, save for the distant echoes of sirens and the faint hum of the city. pro hero dynamight, katsuki bakugou, stood with fists clenched, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with adrenaline from chasing someone.

before him stood a figure from his past—a person he never thought he'd see again, let alone face in such a casual yet tense setting. the villain before him wasn’t just any enemy. it was you.

you, who had disappeared from ua without a trace, leaving behind questions and a void that katsuki could never quite fill. back then, he'd brushed off his feelings, masking them behind his usual bravado.

but now, seeing you here, standing against him as an enemy, he can't believe that he's finally found you after all these years.

"so you decided to finally show your face after these years. what the fuck happened? where have you been?"

all katsuki felt was anger and frustration. he was pissed at you for leaving without a word and pissed at himself for not finding you. before he could see you like this.

"it's been a long time, huh?" you say with a dry chuckle. "i'm glad that you still remember me though, dynamight."

katsuki scoffs. "of course i remember you, idiot! you just decided to leave without a word, how could i forget you when you just vanished?"

you give a small scoff at hearing katsuki's comment, feeling the anger and tension slowly building. you cross your arms over your chest, not looking away from him.

"oh, so now you give a damn about me leaving. didn't think you'd care enough to even wonder why I just disappeared and left."

katsuki's eyes narrow at your response. he didn't like that you were acting all nonchalant about everything. as if this whole interaction didn't matter.

he takes a few steps forward, not taking his eyes off of you. he hadn't seen you in so long, he actually couldn't believe that you were right infront of him.

"don't give me that crap! you just disappearing like that without a word or any explanation, what the hell was i supposed to think?!"

you feel annoyed and somewhat defensive at Katsuki's reaction. You couldn't stand the fact that he was acting like he cared so much about you when you know he didn't care about you at all back then.

"oh please, you never even thought about me back then. you were too wrapped up in your own ego to even notice that i was gone. let's not play this little game where you pretend that you actually cared."

it was like a cold bucket of water had been splashed onto his face. katsuki clenched his teeth at your words, feeling the anger bubble up in him.

"believe it or not, dumbass, i care about what happened to you! more than you'd ever know... every damn day i thought about you, wondering if you were okay. i've never, ever stopped thinking about you."

you had no idea how much he cared about you, how much he even thought about you. hearing katsuki's confession hits you like a pile of bricks. you had always had feelings for him back then too, but you never had the courage to confess your feelings. he just couldn't keep his feelings bottled up anymore.

"damn it, i've always cared about you, idiot. i wanted to tell you everything back then, but i never got the chance to.

"hell, i even had dreams about you... dreams where i told you how i fuckin' felt... but before i could say anything, you just... vanished."

shock and disbelief flood you as you process katsuki's confession. you couldn't believe that after all this time, he was telling you how he felt. however,

when you remember the circumstances, a pang of regret hits you as you shake your head.

"goddamn it... why are you telling me this now? we can't just act upon our feelings now, not after all i've done."

"i don't care about that... my feelings for you haven't changed. just tell me what happened. why did you disappear? what happened?"

you let out another dry chuckle at Katsuki's determination. you shake your head with a sad smile on your face.

"it's kind of funny, you know. back then, i would've been over the moon to hear you say those things to me. if you had said that you had feelings for me... i would've been the happiest damn person in the world."

you take a deep breath, looking down at the ground.

"before i left school... i was going through a really rough time. i didn't know where i was going to go or what i was going to do. i... couldn't handle it. then i got mixed up with the wrong kind of people who treated me right and.. i'm here now."

katsuki's anger and frustration start to fade, replaced with a mixture of sadness and guilt.

"why... why didn't you reach out to me? to any of us? after all we've been through, we would've helped you. we could've been there for you."

you smile humorlessly, a mix of pain and shame in your eyes.

"you don't get it. i didn't want to be a burden. i didn't want to put my problems on you guys when had your own lives to worry about. i didn't want to add to that."

katsuki couldn't believe what he was hearing. He never thought that you would've felt like that, but... he wished that he had known what you were going through.

"we could've helped you through everything, damn it. we cared about you... i cared about you..."

you look at katsuki and feel a pang of sadness and despair. you couldn't believe that after all this time, he reciprocated your feelings. but it was too late. tou were too far gone to turn back now.

"i can't just leave and expect everything to go back to the way it was. there's no changing it."

"you can still change," katsuki argues, the hope in his eyes glowing with desperation. "you can still come back."

you shake your head feverishly, head too overwhelmed with thoughts to think straight. "i-i can't. its too late for that."

katsuki watches as you prepare to leave, helplessness coursing through him. he couldn't just let you go. not when he was finally seeing you again after all these years. he couldn't just lose you again.

"no... don't leave. please. don't just... walk out of my life again..."

"katsuki?"

his head snaps up to look at you.

"yes? what is it?"

you smile sadly at him.

"in another life, i would've really liked... just doing laundry and taxes with you."

[mattsfavouritewhore]

Just Go part 4... The End - Chris Sturniolo

a/n: welcome to the end pookies!! enjoy

just go part 2 part 3

you felt like a stranger in your own skin as you pushed through the crowded party. The thumping bass of the music vibrated through your bones, but it couldn’t drown out the thudding of your heart. you had come here to escape, to forget, but now the weight of what happened earlier felt suffocating. Chris likes Harper. Not you.

Why did you even come? pushing past a couple of people laughing by the kitchen. But as you walked deeper into the house, your eyes naturally found Chris. He was standing in a small circle with some friends, but Harper—of course—was right there, leaning into him as if they were already in their own world.

The sight twisted something in your chest. It wasn’t just jealousy anymore—it was something sharper, like betrayal. seeing it now, in person, felt like salt in an open wound.

Before you could look away, Chris caught their eye. The flicker of recognition passed between you guys, and in that instant, everything seemed to stop. He excused himself from Harper and started making his way toward you. your pulse quickened, a mixture of fury and something else—something that felt uncomfortably like longing.

No. you couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not after everything.

When Chris reached them, he was breathing a little heavier than usual, clearly flustered. “Hey,” he said, running a hand through his hair, his voice hesitant. “You made it.”

You crossed their arms tightly, feeling a rush of emotions you couldn’t process all at once. you forced a tight smile. “Yeah, I thought I’d come for the free drinks and the real entertainment.”

Chris winced at the sarcasm. “I know things have been weird... but I didn’t think it was this bad.” His gaze flickered toward Harper, who was watching them from across the room.

Chris’s expression faltered, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, Y/N. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” you asked, unable to keep the edge from your voice. “You think you can just sweep everything under the rug, pretend like I don’t have feelings? Because here’s the truth, Chris: I’m not the one who needs to be protected here.”

Chris stepped forward, his voice dropping. “Y/N, I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe me. You’ve always been...” He stopped, looking lost for words.

“Always been what?” you challenged, your voice growing colder. “Your second choice? Your fall-back plan? Is that it?”

Chris’s face softened with regret, his eyes desperate. “No, you’re not that to me. I care about you. But...”

“But?” you repeated, cutting him off. “But what? You care about me, but you’ve been chasing Harper this entire time, Chris. How long were you planning on stringing me along? Because, news flash, I’m not waiting for you to figure it out anymore.”

Chris opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Harper suddenly appeared at his side, her voice dripping with sweetness, but with a dangerous edge. “What’s going on here, you two? Did you need a little private chat?”

you turned to face her, your pulse quickening. Harper’s eyes gleamed with a strange satisfaction as she looked between you and Chris. She wasn’t even pretending to hide the power she had over him. “I think Chris has been very clear about his feelings, haven’t you, babe?”

Chris’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes flickered briefly to you, almost like he was looking for approval, but he said nothing.

your heart felt like it was breaking, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you looked right at Harper, cutting through the tension. “You two are really something, aren’t you?” you said, your voice like ice. “You’ve been playing this game for months, pretending you care about me when all along you were just setting me up as some... rebound.”

Harper shrugged, unfazed. “Rebound? Maybe. But if the shoe fits…” She tossed her hair back with a smug smirk. “To be fair, I didn’t think he was going to fall for you. But he did. I guess it was fun while it lasted.”

you stared at Harper, anger and hurt crashing through you, but something deep inside clicked. you were done being the victim of this twisted little game. you turned to Chris, your eyes narrowing. “I’m done with both of you,” you said flatly.

But just as you turned to leave, something unexpected happened. Chris grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but gentle. “Wait,” he said urgently. “Y/N, please listen.”

you spun around, eyes blazing. “No. I’m done listening. I’m done with the lies, done with being a fucking second choice.” you yanked their wrist out of his grasp.

But Chris didn’t let go. He pulled you in, his hands on your shoulders, his eyes locking with yours in a way you'd never seen before. “Y/N, don’t walk away. I fucked up,” he said, his voice low but earnest. “I’ve been a coward, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you in the dark. But it was never about Harper. It was always you. You just... you have to trust me on this.”

you felt a mix of disbelief and something else—a rush of longing you had tried to suppress for so long. The anger was still there, but it was tangled up with something raw. Something real.

“Prove it,” you whispered, barely able to hear their own voice over the pounding music. “Prove that you want me. Because right now, I’m not sure you even know who the hell I am.”

Chris took a step back, eyes wide, then nodded. “I can prove it. I will. Just give me a chance.”

you stared at him for a long moment, your breath catching in your throat. you could feel Harper’s eyes burning into them from across the room, but for the first time that night, you didn’t care.

“Fine,” you said finally, their voice low. “You’ve got one chance to make this right, Chris. Don’t screw it up.”

Chris’s face broke into a genuine, relieved smile. And for the first time, it wasn’t forced. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice filled with determination.

He drags you to the yard, away from all the people, away from the music and the alcohol..

it was just the two of you.

“I was a mess, Y/N. I was so scared to face the truth that I just let things happen. I didn’t know how to break things off with Harper, and I thought… I thought I could handle everything, but I can’t. I didn’t want to lose you, but I knew I was losing myself by trying to keep you around while still being hung up on her. I messed up, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m willing to prove to you that I can be the person you deserve.”

You listened as he explained himself, still not understanding why he chose harper over you, why he did what he did if this is how he truly felt.

“I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but I need you to know that I’m here for the long haul. I don’t want to play games anymore. No more secrets. I’m not perfect, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this right. But I need you to tell me what you need. I can’t fix things unless you let me know what you need from me.”

He tucks a strand of her hair, kissing her cheek before getting up and walking away. you watch him leave, being left alone with your thoughts.. would he ever tell you why he did what he did? should you forgive him? it all came crashing into your thoughts.

A few days go past, you hadnt heard from chris until one night he messages you..

Chris:

“I know you’ve been dying to see that documentary about that photographer you love. I got us tickets for tomorrow night. no pressure. But I want to spend some time with you, the right way. If you’re up for it, I’m here.”

You smile at your phone, quickly responding "sure"

Chris continued to spoil you, not really going into detail abt harper and why he randomly switched up from you to harper back to you but he made it clear that harper was no longer an issue.

you decided to give Chris another chance, but on your terms. you're not rushing into anything—you've learnt to trust yourself first, and now, you need to trust Chris with a more open heart. Chris’s consistent actions, honesty, and vulnerability make all the difference. Slowly, you lets down your guard. you find yourself laughing again in each other’s company, planning things together, and feeling like you can be your true selves with him—no games, no secrets.

you guys take your time. There’s no immediate rush to label things, but trust and communication gradually grow back, until one day, Chris holds your hand and says, “I’m not going anywhere. I want this with you, for real. You’re it.”

you, with a soft smile, reply, “I believe you.”

a/n: this is pretty rushed bc i geniunely had zero of an idea on how to finish the series.

tags: @riggysworld @watercolorskyy @courta13

[milchig-de]

What's mine is yours; only ours

Pairing: Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader (as Traveller)

Warnings: None!

Summary: You give the Wanderer, formerly Scaramouche a name. It's yours!

Notes: Aw man i have such big feelings about my name, it really meant a lot to me to give Wanderer his name. I gave him mine and it just... I know he's just a guy in a game but idk. it really touched me i guess. i wrote this when the main quest for this just came out but i only now found it again, polished it and gave it an acceptable ending. also i have like. no idea how to insert y/n without it being like. sorta bad so forgive me 😔

"You want to share your name with me? Huh. Not a bad choice."

You smile at him. His heart picked up speed. How was it, Scaramouche? wondered, that you could make him feel such odd things so suddenly?

"Are you sure about your choice?"

"Yes, I think this will fit."

This name, your name, will fit him?

There had been many unpleasant encounters between you and him, and now that he had his memories again, he could truly grasp the severity of those encounters and the current situation. The entire time you've known who he was, what he was. And even though he was your enemy, someone you must have hated, the person who tried to kill you, you still found it in yourself to help him.

When you saw him that time at the bazaar, you could have easily walked away, just pretending it never happened; after all, you were the only one who knew about it. Even with the fable Nahida had stored away, she wouldn't have been able to uncover who he was. He didn't even remember himself.

You could have left him in idiotic unawareness, you could have left him to simply live his life in an agonizing lie. Yet you chose to. present the truth to him and Nahida.

You had certainly earned his utmost respect.

And even now you were still willing to go to lengths for him that would have not been necessary. Offering a part of yourself up to him? After all he had done? Amazing. Not only that, now you were telling him it was a name befitting of him; a name you yourself had carved into the shape it is today, and to now bestow it onto him... He felt quite honored. Perhaps you also wanted him to be like you, to grow into a better person of himself. Or maybe it was an incentive to push himself harder, so he could make something of himself. The future was his to choose, and he'd make sure he made the right choice this time.

He wasn't very good at expressing himself yet, so he hoped all of these emotions shone through his words in a way you could understand.

Your eyes twinkled in understanding. Perhaps you had known his thoughts all along. Maybe one day, the Wanderer would also come to understand your thoughts on this decision.

For now though, only one thing was left to do for him.

"I accept it."

And with this, yours and [Y/N]'s path separated; though you're sure you'd be seeing each other again very soon.

[shigarakisdumbwhore]

The Visit - Todoroki x Reader

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts since FEBRUARY 21, 2022 Y'ALL. why did I wait so long omg

Summary: Your ex, Todoroki, visits you in the hospital after a traumatic car accident.

Warnings: mentions of car crash, hospital, angst, hurt/comfort ig

Words: 735

"Did you only come because it reminds you of the guilt from your mommy?"

You had heard the door open and looked over. It only took you a second before you realized who it was. He wasn't even out of his school uniform yet. His hair was glued slick to his forehead with sweat and his jacket was around his waist, dress shirt barely tucked in and wrinkled.

He didn't say anything, not even a reaction, as he made his way over. He didn't ask to take the seat next to you, probably didn't care what you wanted anyway. He appeared to be on a mission. His face was expressionless and too blank to read.

"No."

The answer was so simple and short. There was little to no emotion behind it, but it was comforting to you. It made you think about how he came here all by himself, despite knowing how snippy you could be. Todoroki wasn't completely innocent. He had his moments where he could be disrespectful, you both did. However, he knew he would have to deal with it upon arriving at the hospital and he did it anyway. Even though you two believed the relationship was far behind, there were still some lingering feelings. A part of you wished you'd never see him again and the other part was glad he came.

An awkward silence was instilled between the both of you. You looked out straight again, too hurt to look at his face once again. The memories of how he made you feel still lingered fresh in your mind. Looking at him would only bring them back, and that would do you no good.

"What are you watching?" Your gaze focused on the laptop in front of you, sitting on the rolling desk that hovered above you. Your friends and family came to visit as often as they could, but during the hours they couldn't it was lonely. You asked to keep your laptop available so you could play games or watch movies. The one Shoto was asking about happened to be your favorite, one you felt giddy about when someone asked. You couldn't help yourself. As soon as he asked, you answered with excitement. A long ramble filled the silence. It was just like old times.

For the first time in a long time, he was smiling at you. It was a small smile, a Todoroki type of smile. You never saw Endeavor with a big grin so you assumed it was a family thing. Regardless, it was an image that lived in your mind with vivid detail. Then it hit.

Upon this realization, you turned to look at him with a wide grin, but it began to fade when you noticed his did too. It must've clicked at the same time. The two of you were always known for having synchronized minds. Old times. They were called old times for a reason.

"I'm sor-"

"Please, just," you interrupted, "let's just... pretend none of that happened, like we're still together, like we're happy... please."

Shoto sat in silence as he stared at you. His face was so hard to read. So blank and emotionless, but you knew a million things were going on in his mind. You could only imagine what could have been running through his head.

"I never wanted to leave. Things were so complicated with school and my father... I took that out on you and for that, I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took your injury for me to figure that out. I promise, when you recover, if you give me a chance, I'll do better." His tone was sweet and sincere. Shoto never really had any reason to lie and he usually was very loyal to his word. But the hurt that he caused you, was this apology enough to just forgive him so easily? To forget everything before and act like it never happened, like it never bothered you. Like it still didn't bother you.

Despite all of it, you still loved him. That's why it still hurt. That's why you still held on. And that's why you secretly felt so relieved when he walked through that door like he traveled through hell just to see you.

"I missed you... I missed you every day you were gone."

"I know," he stood up and pulled you into his arms tightly. "This time, I'll make it right. I love you."

[menodoramoon]

That's the thing about Menodora. She doesn't grow. She holds all thought thoughts -- those seedlings of awareness and observations -- close to her chest and in the back of her mind. She doesn't allow them to morph and change and metamorphosize into new ideas, new actions, new intents. She's never allowed those crocuses to break through the snow. Never permitting those Irises to see the light. Oh… how charming, she thinks. How funny. How fitting.

She sees Tófi in different lights. The illusion of their human self and the truth of their monstrous one. They watch them closely, a look of contemplation of her face. In that alternate 1815, she's loved them as their true self. In that alternate game of gods and monsters, they'd been more human. But those dreams didn't happen. Tófi would chide her for letting her mind wander back.

All of that to say, reconciling who they were had always been difficult. It's harder now, to think of them as a person who felt. And what did they feel besides rage and a thirst for vengeance? Is it so cliche to say that Tófi felt misunderstood? As childish as that word may seem, it felt like the truest thing to her. She misunderstood them time and time again. Underestimated them, overestimated them. Didn't know them as she thought she did or perhaps knew more aspects of them better than they knew her to.

She's somehow charmed by the turn her mind takes, the vague recognitions and reacquainting they're doing. This is not like the beginning of the year where they renewed their friendship. They tore down their relationship today in fire to begin to forge it anew. Perhaps Tófi would burn her in the future as she'd burned them. But it would be earned. And that, in itself, felt right.

"You love more than those, Tófi of Septarsis," Menodora chides. Her tone takes on one where she may tease a wayward ambassador. Where she is delightfully coy with her knowledge. "Don't lie to us when you demand so much truth of me."

Those smiles she gives them hurt her head. Ping lightly, like a pin dropping to the floor, against her senses.

"If things were any different, we may be happier people. Or not," she says, her voice lighter. Pained, but lighter. This discussion is taking a toll on her, her wick was quickly being burnt through. "Because if I am happier, that must mean I'm being ignorant to your plight. And if you were happier or contended, I don't know if I'd be standing here."

She purses her lips for a moment, closes her eyes against the brightness of the hall. It feels like stepping out of darkness into the daylight, bright and blinding. She would love to live in her oblivion, pretend all was well and ignore the pain Tófi hides. She remembers how Tófi had reprimanded her in the dream, reminding her how light could blind. It revealed the worst bits of you, exposed you and laid every bit of you bare.

Could Menodora handle the truth of herself? The facts of matters she tried so hard to -- for so long succeeded to -- repress.

Tófi seems to hold tight to their even tone, their humorless tone. She can't help but raise a brow, even if it's ill-advised over her worsening headache.

"What I'm hearing, Mr Sethson," she says, with that same teasing, playful look as before, "is that you want to watch me sleep." But she's not serious. That much was written across her features. If she were bolder, she may have said something sharper. Something more accusatory. Instead, she hums a soft smile, the slight reverberation on her lips. "It's noble of you to offer keeping vigil, though. Almost sweet, though I don't think sweet is the word I'd use to describe you."

Every external upturn of her lips is a downturn of her mind. And eventually, she knows she'll give out. Her banter is temporary. Exhaustion is a shadow, slowly consuming her.

When she observes them, they're observing her back. She's watching for a hint of a smile. They're watching for the eventual overwhelming of weakness.

It was a dance they'd done when she was a child. Physically, she's only been as tall as maybe his heart when she first knew of their truest face. Now, she could stand on her toes and brush her nose against theirs, their familiarity eye-to-eye.

"Why, Tófi," she says, humor evident but her strength fading, "it almost sounds like you want an excuse to carry me."

Are they twenty feet from reprieve or two hundred? This house couldn't be that big, their manner of manor was surely not that expansive. Even if taking one more step felt like the effort of wading through deep water.

If they lingered any more in the hall, Tófi would have no choice unless they were content with 'rest' being synonymous with her crumpled, unconscious on their hallway floor.

She's a moment from a delirious laugh. Settles for an exhale. Shuts her eyes as the thrumming and drumming and darkness in her ears rises.

"I'll permit it, just this once, if you're still offering."

@ofseptarsis

genfødte sandheder || Tófi & Moon

[alshaverpressbox]

integral part of any team: local dirtbag

carolina hurricanes @ minnesota wild, 27 feb 2024

[sonknuxadow]

see i do think there have been actual instances of fandom people just deciding two characters are siblings with no real basis and acting like its canon and forcing that interpretation on others and getting mad at people who disagree . but a lot of the characters i see people list as examples of this happening with are just actually stated to or heavily implied to see eachother as siblings by the source material and at that point i think you just dont see adopted siblings as real siblings idk what else to tell you

[reel-fear]

Genuinely so curious who Mike thinks is gonna be buying The Cage or the new DCTL GN bc with the way he tweets as far as he's concerned, it's not gonna be:

The queer people he has actively admitted he will never show any representation of in the games.

2. The POC he has actively fought against representing in his franchise. [Who he also mocked for thinking they would be represented in his franchise]

3. The Bendy fandom which has always been concerned with topics of diversity esp in the sense of queer people since its creation. Who he has responded to really poorly esp in regards to the GN.

4. The fans who critique him. [He blocked me for doing so lol]

5. His fans in general who he tweets about like this currently. [He's being vague about why people were mad at him or sent him 'nasty messages' because if you actually looked into why you'd see he was in the wrong. Either way, a very hateful way to speak abt ur own fanbase.]

Reminder while Mike is trash talking his fans he has always treated them rather poorly. The fans who won the fanart contest for Chapter 5 never got their posters actually in game due to it being rushed. Not only was chapter 5 a big slap to the face story wise, but it was literally so rushed he couldn't be bothered to add in the art his fans gave him for his game FOR FREE. [Meatly blames this on a crazy timeline, reminder him and Mike are the literal ceos of this company. The proposal of future updates here is also pretty cruel considering Mike nowadays happily admits he corrupted Chapter 5's source code and therefore literally can't update it At All currently. Because he is a moron]

At least they got to be in Boris and the dark survival, and by that I mean that was the Only game they got to be in so far, isn't that just treating your fans like you love them? Shoving their hard work into a spin off game almost nobody has played or addresses much. [Hell, who knows if with the Lone Wolf rebrand they'll even stay there. In which case they'll be in None of the games, only in the credits of BATIM]

6. The Bendy fans who just generally disagree with him on stuff. Like the new ink demon design where there is literally a public poll showing people generally prefer the old one.

7. The Bendy fans who can see he is actively lying to them. To their fucking faces.

He says this has always been the case, but screenshots and links to tweets regarding the books being canon prove it was not. Does he really think bendy fans are stupid or something? [Unless he's admitting here he lied to Kress when he told her the books were canon which sounds worse!]

8. Anyone who doesn't like the idea of giving money to a guy who laid off tons of employees then afterwards thought it was a great idea to express his anti-union views! Also brag about how good of an employer he was, according to his employees, he was not!

So in summary; Mike is an awful person who has not learned anything from the awful things he did. I will not be purchasing The Cage because, combined with this and his absolute refusal to take any kind of critique or see any differing interpretation of his franchise, I have no reason to think my problems with the franchise will ever be addressed or fixed. I probably will pirate The Cage along with any future Bendy Products [Including the movie] and will do my best to avoid giving it any kind of monetary support. Unless this changes any time soon, I can't see myself making anymore positive Bendy posts soon.

Mike has just managed to make it so hard to speak positively or optimistically of this franchise when he's so willing to broadcast how little he cares about it or its fans. I'm at the point where I refuse to pull any of my punches with my problems with it. What's the point of trying to play nice with my critique when either way the people creating it don't care?

So with this post, I want to invite anyone who feels similarly about the franchise to tell me, make a post or send an ask talking about how all of this makes you feel. It may not change how things are, but genuinely seeing other people share my feelings of anger makes me feel better. It feels nice to see when other people share our same concerns and worries. I'd also love to know if anyone else thinks they'll be avoiding purchasing Bendy products over this.

I'm not forcing anyone to participate in it nor trying to say anyone who doesn't supports mike but genuinely maybe if we can collectively decide to boycott things like the movie, graphic novel and The Cage... It might at least make the bendy devs acknowledge how much they have destroyed their own fandom's faith and trust in them.

The way Mike tweets about his actions like he had no control over why people were mad at him at least proves to me he takes NONE of it back nor regrets it. If you didn't know about his actions and only went off his tweets, you would be led to believe Mike has been needlessly picked apart by fans over things he couldn't control [or in his own words, had his words twisted and taken out of context]. That is not how you speak about your actions if you have actually learned better from them.

anyway, that has been my bendy dev callout post. This is an open invitation to anyone feeling similarly upset about the way the franchise is going to talk about it. It's genuinely nice to see how people feel about this and the more we talk about the more it's likely the bendy devs are forced to address our concerns. I don't think they will but hey, that's why I'm not gonna support them with my money anymore nor am I gonna be nice to them in any content I make critiquing Bendy. I mean I'm also basically making this post just in case anyone asks me Why I feel this way towards to bendy devs/as a way to respond to anyone who thinks I am too harsh in my critique in the future.

As always, it seems the best part of Bendy isn't actually anything about canon but about what the fan's are creating with the ideas Bendy failed to do anything interesting with.

Also the books, the books slap.

[penisgeorge]

unfortunately no, Kinger is confirmed to be the first, I’m afraid. And Ragatha has been there the second longest— goose gave that info waaaayyyyy back. You can find it on her tumblr here, actually!

However, I do blender shit, and (as far as I can remember, it’s late) usually, .001 is what they give to a copy of something. You have “armature” and “armature.001” instead of “armature.2”

ergo…Jaxs model has either been copied, or Jax himself has.

To offer a theory of my own— what if Jax was duplicated at some point, maybe as one of Caines “funny adventures.” Everyone else’s copies were snapped out of existence at the end, but instead, the real Jax was (perhaps due to a “prank” of switching badges or colors, like twins) And now the copy has to pretend he’s the original, all the while knowing he’s not. Hes still very human, he still has his memories, but he also knows he was on the “copies” side of the playing field when the game started.

Jax died. Jax.001 remains. And only Caine knows the difference.

I feel like this is pretty plausible given goose’s characterization so far— Jax is clearly trying to ignore or bury something. he’s very preoccupied with appearances. (Nobody can see this, right?) He’s trying to act as close to what he remembers acting like before, but for different reasons now.

this could also explain why Caine is only now coming to a breaking point after people have been abstracting seemingly for years, (he actually deleted a human, their file no longer exists) why he’s obsessed with keeping an eye on them, (all seeing eyes!) and why he doesn’t let NPC’s inside the circus anymore. (Who knows what…could…happen…)

…that or I’m completely mis-remembering how blender works.

Anyway, sorry for hijacking your post like this op! Just got the brain worms a wigglin’. I can think of a myriad of other things this could mean, but uh. I’ll make my own posts about those, lol.

here’s a thing that’s been on my mind.

in the newest episode of TADC, huge detail I haven’t seen ppl pointing out.

IM SORRY, JAX WAS THE FIRST?!??????!!!!!!!

WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS?!!!????

Jax has been here SO LONG that he has lost sense of himself and has become a caricature. A mask.

Can this be disproven? Probably but this was intentional. Jax said Kinger ‘supposedly’ has been here the longest. Maybe he’s trying to deflect attention to himself 🤷‍♀️

i mean, Jax keeps talking about how crazy Kinger is and how he thinks he’ll be the next to abstract. Almost to a point that it’s like he’s trying to CONVINCE HIMSELF.

Anyways that’s just a theory.

A GAA-

[sweetandglovelyart]

Knightfall in Dream Land - Page 5

Meta Knight loses a battle and his wings to Nightmare.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol