#you guys will watch it too right..... (joke) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stellamarielu · 14 hours ago

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joel miller x female reader

summary: you ask your dad’s best friend to give you a ride home after a night out, which leads to you teasing him in the backseat of his truck as he watches you in the rearview mirror.

content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, dbf!joel, no outbreak!au, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel being chivalrous, but also being a down bad freak, heavy voyeurism, female masturbation, praise kink out the wahzoo, basically joel just watches you finger fuck yourself in the backseat of his truck

author’s note: listen i’m no better than the rest of you, i’ll fold for a dbf!joel miller fic. i’m sorry to all the joel miller/pedro pascal girlies for having to deal with my ass infiltrating your fandom BUT i come bearing gifts of filthy, depraved smut!!!

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You were standing out on the curb with your arms crossed over your chest. The faint music from the bar behind you filled your ears and the February wind had goosebumps raising on your skin. You were beginning to regret your decision to forgo a jacket. The choice felt right when you were bar hopping earlier, free from lugging around an extra layer of clothing, but now it was coming back to bite you in the ass as you stood out in the cold clad only in a skimpy little dress.

Thankfully you didn’t have to wait long as you watched a familiar truck pull up in front of you.

Joel Miller’s dark grey pickup came sliding up on the street and you could see the man behind the wheel smiling through the driver’s side window, amused at your poor choice in inadequate clothing.

Without missing a beat, you pulled on the handle of the door behind him, sliding to the middle of the spacious backseat.

“What the hell are you doin’ kid?” His voice was a low chuckle as he turned his head back to look at you.

“You know you can sit in the front? Pretty sure you’re old enough.” He sounded entertained as his eyes met yours.

“It’s more fun this way.” You were giggling out.

“It’s like we’re in an uber.” You were leaning forward with your eyes still on him, your chest practically falling out of your dress.

Joel was fighting with himself not to let his eyes wander to your exposed skin when he decided to face forward again.

Jesus you were hardly wearing any clothes. He was starting to question why he had agreed to come pick you up in the first place. Oh yeah, it’s because his dumbass made a comment weeks ago about being able to give you a ride if you were ever too drunk to drive. And judging by the way your words were falling from your lips in a carefree giggle and how your body was folded forward over the middle console of his truck, you were definitely in no shape to drive.

You were in college and still living with your dad in an effort to save up some cash. Sure, it was nice not to worry about rent, but living under your father’s roof came with its downfalls– like him being far too aware of your whereabouts.

That’s when you and Joel shared a whispered conversation about him being there if you ever needed a hand sneaking around your dad’s constant need to be in your business.

He had joked about being your designated driver if you ever needed one, and tonight after a few vodka sodas and your friends not wanting to end their fun, you had taken him up on his offer. It was no surprise that he agreed to come get you, Joel was always so nice to you– a perfect gentleman.

You met him last year after him and your dad worked on the same construction site. Their friendship started with shared beers after work and quickly turned into Joel and his daughter coming to your house every weekend for Sunday night football and dinner. Your two families had gotten pretty close, and you began to look forward to seeing Joel every week.

He was a friendly guy, always cracking jokes and drumming up conversation, not to mention he was incredibly attractive. In fact, you had developed quite the little crush on him. You would act calm, cool, and collected every time you spoke with him, only to go on losing sleep at night thinking about how dreamy he was. It was just a bit of harmless fun, a teeny tiny unrequited crush on your dad's best friend. That was until you caught him watching you a few months ago, like really watching you.

If it had been anyone else you might’ve found it creepy, but it was Joel. Joel who was undeniably single, and funny, and handsome, and older. Joel who was raking his eyes down your body inch by inch when you had skipped downstairs in the world’s tiniest pajama shorts and an equally teasing crop top. You weren’t expecting to see him standing in your kitchen that early on a Tuesday morning yet there he was, gawking at your ass cheeks that couldn’t be covered by the barely-there material of your shorts. He saw you watching him as he stared at you. He didn’t even try to hide it. Both of you frozen in your kitchen and the tension palpable before your dad came into the room muttering something about his car not starting and Joel giving him a ride.

After that day your little crush on Joel Miller turned into a full-blown obsession.

You wanted to have his eyes on you like that again. You dreamed about him staring at you. The scenarios that you conjured up about him late at night could land you in the loony bin, but you didn’t care. This new desperation to fulfill the fantasies plaguing your brain were all you could think about, and you were determined to do something about it.

“I don’t understand how you’re wearin’ that when it’s so cold outside.” Joel’s eyes were staring straight ahead as he began to drive you home, pulling his car back onto the road and moving with the traffic on the busy street.

“Well you’ve obviously never been a girl on 6th street on a Saturday night.” You were still leaning forward in your seat making sure to push your cleavage together with your arms now that you knew he was looking at your outfit.

“Obviously.” He was mocking you with his response, eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror.

“What’s Sarah up to tonight?”

Your question was harmless as you leaned back in your seat peering out the window and admiring the bright lights of the city around you.

“She’s staying over at a friend’s house.” Joel’s eyes were back on the road, focused on the route back to your house.

“Probably for the best, don’t want her knowing I’m picking up your drunk ass at 2am.”

You were shooting him a glare that he couldn’t see while he chuckled under his breath.

“Don’t need you lookin’ like a bad influence.” He was peeking at you through the mirror again, a smirk on his lips.

“Oh please, I’m an angel.”

You were responding in a sugary sweet voice, your eyes holding as much innocence as you could muster, only drawing more attention to the way your tits were pushed up against your arms.

It was such a sinful image, one that Joel let his eyes linger on for a little too long as he stared at you through the mirror.

You were addicted to the way he was looking at you.

Quite frankly, you were addicted to everything about him.

You could almost feel the liquid courage still coursing through your veins as you relaxed against the leather seat, arching your back slightly and looking up at him through your lashes.

“You could just take me back to your place.” Your voice was hushed as you watched Joel’s expression fill with confusion, his eyes finding the road again.

“And why on earth would I do that?” He may have been confused but his voice remained playful as he questioned you.

“Because maybe I want you to finally do something about that wandering eye of yours.”

There it was– the words you had been holding back for months. I see the way you look at me, I’m into it, and I want you to fuck me.

“Don’t know what your talkin’ about angel.”

His voice was mocking as he used the title you had given yourself moments ago. He was tip toeing closer to the blurred line of whatever unspoken tension had been building between the two of you.

Oh, game on. If he wanted to tease you, two could play at that game.

“C’mon Mr. Miller I know you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

The use of his surname had Joel’s eyes snapping up to the mirror to meet your gaze. As soon as his eyes were on yours, he regretted it. You looked downright drunk, but not from whatever alcohol was left in your system– no, you were drunk off desire. For him.

“I know you like to watch...” The words were leaving your lips in a disgustingly sweet tone and your hand was ghosting over your chest.

“Don’t.” His voice was stern as he spoke, but his eyes were still on yours in the mirror all big and needy, telling an entirely different story.

“Don’t what?”

Your hands were teasing the lowcut neckline of your dress as you spoke.

“Shouldn’t you be concentrating on the road? You seem a little distracted.” The flirtatious words falling from your lips worked in tandem with your hands that were now cupping your breasts and trailing down your torso.

You searched for his eyes in the rearview mirror again, only now they were focused ahead instead of on you.

“You’re drunk, I’m not doin’ this with you right now.”

Oh so he wanted to parade around on his high horse? Not happening.

“I’m not drunk. I had a few drinks hours ago. I’m of sound mind Mr. Miller.”

There it was again, Mr. Miller. You had never called him that before, not once. But now you were sitting in the backseat of his truck with your hands all over your body saying it over and over again and he thought he was going to combust.

“And what if I hadn’t been drinking tonight? Then would you watch me do this.”

What little alcohol that was left metabolizing in your body must’ve given you enough confidence to spread your legs, the movement hiking your dress all the way up your thighs. You hand was sliding down your body only to stop when it found the thin material of your lace panties.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ.” Joel was groaning out when his eyes flickered to the mirror to watch you all spread out in his backseat like that.

“Knew you liked to watch.” You were whispering as your fingertips danced at the hem of your underwear.

“What do you want me to do?” You were teasing as you let your fingers wander closer to your core, legs still wide open.

“Want me to stop Mr. Miller?”

You could see the way his hands were gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was squeezing.

He was holding on as tight as humanly possible while he debated his next move. Did he get serious and put a stop to this, or did he let himself have a little bit of fun and surrender to the pretty young thing all needy in his backseat.

“Want you to keep touchin’ yourself angel.” His voice was gruff, muddled with lust and bad decisions as he finally gave in to temptation.

You hummed out a quiet moan of victory as your hand met the wetness of your panties, your fingertips tracing up and down your clothed center.

Joel’s eyes were a constant boomerang going back and forth between the road ahead of him and the reflection of you playing out in the mirror above him.

He knew it was wrong to let you do this right now. He was the older more mature one in the situation, he should be telling you to stop. Only he couldn’t. He had been fighting himself on this for far too long. The once thick rope that was holding him back from giving into his desire had been thinning since that morning months ago when you had your ass on display for him before 8:30 in the morning. The restraint had become a single, tiny strand keeping him from pouncing on you and now that you were in his backseat with your hands between your legs, he had given up entirely, cutting the string with his own pair of shiny, perverted scissors.

“C’mon baby, keep goin’.” He was encouraging your filthy movements when your eyes met each other in the rearview mirror.

His brows were furrowed and the look in his eyes was completely primal. That glare alone made you pull your panties to the side, giving him a glimpse of your slit, all swollen and glistening– excited by the spontaneity of being half naked in the back of his truck.

“Fuck.” The groan that fell from his lips had you wanting to shove two fingers as deep into you as they could possibly go, but instead you decided to spread your arousal over your opening, taking your time and teasing the man sitting in front of you.

“I always think about you Joel.” Your voice was timid now as you preened underneath your own fingers.

“Think about you when I’m touching myself.” The words were a breathless hum as your fingertips found your clit, rubbing gentle circles over it and allowing your eyes to flutter closed at the sensation.

“That right baby?” You could tell Joel was holding onto what little composure he had left as he continued to prompt your self indulgence.

“Show me”

Each time his eyes found the mirror again you could feel the heat spreading throughout your body.

“Show me what you like. Show me what feels good.”

Fuck. You had a feeling Joel would be good with his mouth, but you didn’t anticipate him being this good with his words. The filthy things he was saying were driving you further into a place of utter insanity. He had you on the edge of going feral as you nearly forgot you were in the backseat of his car, your fingers working faster on the bundle of nerves at your center.

The moans bubbling out of your throat were evidence of your dazed headspace and you weren’t sure what felt better; the way your fingers were stroking your clit or knowing that Joel was watching you, his dick probably rock solid in his jeans.

The idea of him being turned on was enough to have the pressure coiling inside your core, but you needed more. You ached to feel some sort of stretch, some semblance of fullness. You needed something inside of you, and if it couldn’t be Joel, you would do it yourself. Without a second thought you slipped two fingers into your entrance, slowly dragging them in and out.

A low grunt left Joel’s lips, and you could see one of his hands leave the steering wheel and fall into his lap as he adjusted himself through the denim holding back his growing erection.

“That feel good sweetheart? Nice and slow like that?” His voice was strained, and his eyes were darting between the windshield and your reflection.

“So good. Wish it was you instead.”

Oh that was it. He had officially lost it upon hearing those words.

Shit, he wished he had taken you up on your offer to go back to his place. He also wished you hadn’t been drinking tonight. He reminded himself that although you claimed sobriety, he wouldn’t be able to live with it if he did something he couldn’t take back and you regretted it tomorrow.

So, for now, as deprived and questionably moral as it was, he would just let you finger yourself while he sat back and watched. You were an adult that could make your own decisions to possibly regret in the morning; and who was it hurting if he gave you a few words of encouragement?

“I know baby, but just keep playin’ with yourself.”

His voice was reinforcing your already overwhelming pleasure as you arched your fingers, hitting just the right spot. That familiar curl mixed with the featherlight touch still circling your clit had you bracing yourself for the orgasm that you knew would be hitting any minute.

“Doin’ so good.” His voice was a whisper from the front seat and you could’ve sworn he was on the verge of whimpering.

“Gonna make yourself cum all over my backseat- shit.” He was mumbling out his words and you could practically hear the sexual frustration building within them.

Both of you were losing control and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about your surroundings as Joel’s truck was coming to an abrupt stop.

You were home.

He was careful to park on the curb a little further from his usual spot as he quickly took the keys out of the ignition and shut off his headlights. You had never been so thankful for the cover of nightfall and the invention of tinted windows.

“C’mon baby show me how you cum, wanna see it.”

Joel was now leaning his body over the console to face you. Finally getting to see you all spread open before his very eyes instead of a reflection. The bulge in his pants grew tenfold at the sight; Your dress was bunched at your waist, your cheeks hot and pink, your eyes were fighting to stay open, and your delicate little hands were working overtime between your legs. Watching you like that had Joel ready to finish in his pants like a teenage boy.

“Come back here.” You were all but begging through moans as you kept working to bring yourself to the edge of release.

You wanted him to join you, to use his fingers instead of yours, or his dick– you’d take whatever you could get right now, and you wanted it all.

“No sweetheart, not tonight.” He was refusing your invitation, and your feelings might’ve been hurt if it weren’t for the way he reached out and placed his hand right above your knee.

He was spreading your legs further apart with his grasp on your leg and rubbing his thumb back and forth on your lower thigh. His gentle touch had you seeing stars.

“Let go baby.” His eyes were burning into you as he watched your fingers carefully curling at the knuckle with each thrust. Your moans were incoherent as the tension pulling inside your body threatened to snap.

“I need it, show me.”

Joel’s words were carrying you to the finish line as your chest heaved.

“Give it to me sweetheart.” With his hand caressing the soft flesh of your thigh and his eyes watching your every move, you came apart for him. Profanities and moans spilled from your mouth as your release washed over you.

You kept your eyes screwed shut for a few seconds as you forced yourself to take a handful of long deep breaths working your way down from your high.

As soon as your eyes opened, you were met with Joel’s stare. His pupils were dilated and you could see his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as you raised your fingers to your lips.

If you were doing this, you were ending it with a bang.

You opened your mouth just enough to slip your index and pointer finger inside, dramatically sucking them clean before pulling them back out.

“Fuck kid.” He groaned in defeat as his eyes remained glued on your perfectly pouted lips.

“You better get inside.” He was breaking his trance on your mouth and turning back around to start his car back up like nothing ever happened.

“Are you serious?”

You were shocked at his ability to hold it together, knowing that his dick must be throbbing in his jeans at this point. You were more than happy to solve that problem if he’d just let you, but it seemed as though he was ready to kick you out of his tuck without so much as another glance in your direction.

“I don’t know how much you’ve had to drink tonight, can’t trust your decision-making skills.”

“Oh, but you could watch me do that and it didn’t interfere with your moral compass?”

“Go.” He was motioning you out of the car with a tilt of his head and you could read the painfully amused expression on his face through the rearview mirror– the very mirror that had just bared witness to the corrupt scene of you and Joel losing all self-control.

“Fine.” You were chuckling as you pulled your dress back down your thighs and scooting toward the exit, pulling the handle and plopping out onto the concrete street.

“Have a good night… blue balls.” You were standing outside the truck and forcefully shutting the door to his backseat. The last two words leaving your lips in a giggle as you waved goodbye to Joel.

Joel just watched as you skipped up to your front door. He was in big trouble, huge fucking trouble. There was no way he’d be able to look at you again, let alone be in the same room as you.

After tonight, he wouldn't be able to trust himself around you. The next time your eyes met his he'd have no choice but to run his hands all over your perfect little body.

And tomorrow was Sunday night football at your place.

He was screwed.

my masterlist

#oh look she wrote another joel miller fic #this is wildly self indulgent whoops sorry #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character smut

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goldfades · 2 days ago

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no men era | chapter four, DAYLIGHT

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | after realizing you were in no shape for a relationship, you decide that you were going to focus on yourself -- that is, until joe burrow makes an appearance again, and this time it wasn't so... smooth.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | nothing too crazy, just more daylight shenanigans. joe being a cocky bastard and some cliches type of stuff, andrei mention for my andrei girlies out there!

The sun was barely up when you decided.

Lying in your hotel bed, wrapped in the pristine white sheets, you stared at the ceiling and made the choice that this—this—was going to be your new era. A clean slate. No more Jayson, no more men, no more attaching your identity to someone else. You weren’t just Travis and Jason Kelce’s little sister. You weren’t just Jayson Tatum’s ex.

You were you.

And maybe you didn’t fully know what that meant yet, but you were damn sure going to figure it out.

You threw off the covers and padded toward the bathroom, the early morning chill nipping at your skin. The hotel suite was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside. As you flicked on the bathroom light, the mirror reflected a face that, for the first time in a long time, felt like a stranger’s.

You weren’t sad. You weren’t heartbroken. You weren’t even angry anymore.

You were just... there.

You were in the middle of blowing on your coffee, eyes trailing over the busy street outside, wrapped up in your own thoughts, when the bell above the door jingled.

And just like that, the universe yanked you out of your peaceful little morning like it was some kind of sick joke.

Because he walked in.

Joe Burrow.

Looking unfairly good for someone who very clearly had a rough night. His hair was a little messy, his jawline still faintly shadowed with the remnants of yesterday’s stubble, and—yeah—he looked a little hungover, blinking against the morning light filtering through the café windows.

For a second, it was like time hiccupped, both of you just standing there, staring at each other in mild shock. You, because why was he here, in the same coffee shop as you, at the same time, again? Him, because—well, shit.

Joe had spent the past few days trying (and failing) to push you out of his mind, convincing himself that his weird little crush was just that—a passing thing. He wasn’t the kind of guy to get stuck on someone, especially not someone he had talked to for, what? Two minutes?

And yet, here you were. Again.

Looking like that.

And suddenly, Sam’s voice from last night rang in his head. The whole Jayson thing. The whole Dalton thing.

Joe had spent half the night processing all of that, trying to figure out why it made his stomach twist the way it did. Because—sure, whatever, she was dating Dalton Kincaid. But did she actually like him? Because Joe had eyes, and last night at the event, she looked bored out of her mind.

And, okay, yeah, maybe he had gotten a little too loose, a little too confident last night after a few drinks, because he definitely told Sam that Dalton wasn’t her type. That he was more her type. Which was crazy, because—what the hell did he even mean by that?

But now, standing here in this tiny café, watching as you blinked at him like you were just as confused as he was, he felt that same weird little spark in his chest.

It had to be the universe.

That was the only explanation, right?

Joe didn’t overthink it. He never did.

So he smirked, cocky and confident, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie as he strolled up beside you.

“Damn,” he said, his voice still a little rough from the night before. “You following me, or what?”

You blinked.

Then, slowly, your expression shifted—brows raising just slightly, lips pressing into a flat, unimpressed line.

Oh.

Oh, he was one of those guys.

You exhaled through your nose, turning back to your coffee. “Yeah, totally. Been tracking your every move.”

Joe chuckled under his breath, tilting his head. “That so?”

“Mmhm.” You lifted the cup to your lips. “Didn’t think you’d still be in New York, though. Thought you’d be back in Cincinnati, you know… working.”

He could hear the edge in your voice, the subtle dig, and it made his smirk widen.

“Hey, even I get a break every now and then,” he said, shrugging. “Gotta enjoy the off-season while I can.”

You hummed, barely interested. “Right.”

He should’ve let it go. Should’ve just ordered his coffee, sat at some table, and left you alone.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he leaned in a little, just enough to make it feel deliberate, enough to make you glance up at him from the rim of your cup.

“Surprised I didn’t see you with your boyfriend last night,” he mused, voice dropping slightly.

Your eyes narrowed.

Oh, he was really being insufferable.

You weren’t sure if it was the hangover, or if this was just how he always was, but God—he was already irritating.

“I was,” you said simply. “We left early.”

Joe just nodded, like that was interesting, like he was analyzing it. And then he smirked again. “Didn’t look like you were having much fun.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you would know?”

“I pay attention.”

That made you snort, shaking your head. “You think you pay attention.”

“I know I do.”

He was pushing it. Really pushing it.

You turned fully toward him then, and Joe swore the café suddenly got a little smaller, a little warmer.

“You know, if you’re trying to flirt with me, this is the worst attempt I’ve ever witnessed,” you said, voice dry.

Joe grinned, but before he could say anything, you added, “And just to make it clear—I am dating Dalton.”

That made his stomach twist. Not because he hadn’t already known that. But because of the way you said it, the way you made it so damn clear.

Joe just scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, okay.”

And then, without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out. Joe stood there for a second, still half in disbelief.

What the fuck was that?

He just fumbled. Bad.

And worse—he had no idea why.

For the first time in his life, Joe Burrow was actually speechless.

He ran a hand down his face, letting out a low breath. What the hell was wrong with him?

“You good, man?”

Joe turned his head, finding Ja’Marr standing in line, staring at him like he’d just witnessed a tragedy.

“No,” Joe muttered. “I think I just lost a game I didn’t even know I was playing.”

Ja’Marr barked out a laugh. “Damn. That bad?”

Joe sighed, glancing toward the door where you disappeared.

Yeah. That bad.

Back at the hotel, you were sprawled across the bed in Kylie’s suite, arms flung dramatically over your face as you recounted the absolute disaster that was your encounter with Joe Burrow.

Kylie, meanwhile, was cackling. Not just laughing—full-body shaking, tears in her eyes kind of laughing.

“Oh my God—” she gasped between wheezes, clutching her stomach. “You walked out on him?”

“Yes,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “Like, just straight up turned and left.”

Kylie threw her head back. “Oh, that’s so good.”

“It’s not good, Kylie,” you muttered, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s embarrassing.”

“No, he’s embarrassing,” she corrected, wiping her eyes. “Dude really thought he was him, huh?”

You let out a long sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t even know what his deal was. He came in all cocky, acting like—” You waved a hand vaguely. “—like he was God’s gift to football, and I was supposed to just melt or something.”

Kylie snorted. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Well, I’m done with all that,” you declared, pushing yourself up. “No more Jayson, no more Joe, no more men. I’m entering a new era—focusing on me, rebuilding who I am outside of all this—” you gestured dramatically, “—outside of being a Kelce, or Jayson’s ex, or—”

Kylie raised a brow. “Or Dalton’s girlfriend?”

You blinked.

And blinked again.

Because, oh.

Oh, shit.

You had completely forgotten about Dalton Kincaid.

Kylie must’ve seen the realization hit because she promptly burst into laughter again, collapsing back against the pillows.

“Oh my God,” she wheezed. “You forgot about your own boyfriend.”

You groaned, grabbing a pillow and smacking it over your face. “Stop.”

“No, no, this is the funniest thing I’ve ever witnessed.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “Like, imagine if he knew.”

You groaned even louder. “Stop.”

“I mean, you do realize that’s not a great sign, right?”

You sighed, letting the pillow slide down your face. “I know.”

Kylie propped herself up on her elbows, giving you a knowing look. “So… what’s the plan there?”

You let your head thunk back against the bed. “I don’t know.”

Kylie smirked. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that if you forgot you were dating him, he’s probably not the one.”

You exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah.”

There was a long beat of silence before Kylie added, teasingly, “So… you gonna tell him?”

You turned your head, giving her a flat look. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely.” She grinned. “This is premium entertainment.”

You rolled your eyes, but even you couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips.

Because, yeah.

This was a mess.

And you had no idea what you were going to do about it.

Just as you were about to fire back at Kylie for finding way too much joy in your existential crisis, the hotel room door swung open. The chaos that followed was immediate.

“Daddy, I wanna hold it!”

“No, me!”

“She had it last time!”

Jason walked in, looking exhausted, carrying a coffee tray and wrangling two very energetic kids who were currently in the middle of a heated debate over what you assumed was a muffin or a juice box—whatever prize had been promised to them as a post-breakfast treat.

“Oh, good, you’re still here,” Jason said, barely acknowledging the war waging between his daughters as he handed Kylie a coffee and plopped down onto the couch. “Sid, make a call. We’re putting these ones up for trade.”

Kylie shot him a look as she helped untangle the muffin dispute. “Jason.”

“What?” Jason took a sip of his coffee, eyes flicking to you, then back to Kylie, clearly catching on to the laughter that had not been there when he left. “What’s so funny?”

You groaned and flopped back onto the bed. “I forgot I had a boyfriend.”

Jason, to his credit, did not even blink.

Instead, he nodded and said, “Yeah, that tracks.”

Kylie choked on her coffee. “Jason!”

“What?” He shrugged, setting his cup down. “I met the guy. He’s nice and all, but if you already forgot about him, that’s kind of a sign, don’t you think?”

You groaned again, dragging a hand down your face. “That’s not helpful.”

Jason ignored that. “So what’s the plan? Are you gonna break up with him or just keep going until he proposes and then really freak out?”

Kylie wheezed.

“Jason,” you muttered. “Please. Stop talking.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, it’s a slippery slope. One day, you’re having dinner with him and it’s fine, and then boom—you’re at the altar wondering why you’re about to take his last name when you don’t even remember his middle name.”

You groaned louder.

Jason looked at Kylie. “What’s the problem exactly? She doesn’t like the guy?”

Kylie smirked. “No, the problem is she likes the guys who are bad for her and doesn’t like the guys who are good for her.”

Jason frowned. “That’s stupid.”

You shot up. “I know!”

Jason blinked. “Then… stop doing it?”

You gaped at him. “Oh my God, why didn’t I think of that? Thank you, Jason! Problem solved!”

Kylie laughed so hard she almost spilled her coffee.

Jason just shrugged. “I don’t get why this is hard. You don’t like Dalton. End it. Done.”

You sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” You waved your hands vaguely. “He’s… good. He’s nice. He’s polite. He’s great with your kids.”

At that, Jason narrowed his eyes. “Okay, hold on—are you saying that’s the issue?”

You groaned. “No, I just—I don’t feel it, okay?”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I should feel it!”

Jason made a face. “I think you just answered your own question.”

You collapsed back onto the bed again, defeated.

Kylie smirked and turned to Jason. “She’s also in her no men era.”

Jason scoffed. “Yeah, okay.”

You lifted your head to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

He raised a brow. “Sid, come on. I love you, but you’re a Kelce. You’re genetically incapable of avoiding chaos for longer than a week.”

Kylie grinned. “He’s not wrong.”

Jason leaned back, arms crossed. “I mean, let’s be real—you’re gonna get bored in, like, three days, and then suddenly there’s gonna be some new guy, and boom—we’re back here.”

You scoffed. “That’s not true.”

Jason didn’t even argue. He just sipped his coffee like he was already picturing the next man-related disaster you were going to drag them into.

Kylie turned to you, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, if you really want to commit to this no-men era, I guess that means no more talking to Joe Burrow.”

Jason snorted.

You glared at her. “Kylie.”

Jason choked. “Wait—Burrow? Joe Burrow?” He burst out laughing. “Oh my God. That is so funny.”

“It’s not funny.”

“No, no, it is.” Jason shook his head, grinning. “That dude is the definition of locked-in. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him even look at a woman, let alone actively pursue one.”

“Well, apparently, he tried,” Kylie said, biting back a smile. “And Sid walked out on him.”

Jason cackled. “You walked out on Joe Burrow?”

You groaned. “Can we please move on?”

Jason wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh, man. I like this. I really like this.”

Kylie grinned. “Right? I feel like this is the best entertainment we’ve had in years.”

You groaned louder.

Jason leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Okay, hold on. So if Burrow actually wanted to pursue you, what would you do?”

You shot him a look. “I’d tell him I’m in my no men era.”

Jason smirked. “Mmm-hmm. Sure.”

You flopped back onto the bed dramatically. “I hate you both.”

Kylie patted your leg. “Aw, we love you, though.”

Jason just grinned. “This is gonna be so fun to watch.”

Joe was still trying to process what the hell had happened back in that coffee shop.

He had walked in, feeling like maybe—just maybe—the universe was on his side. He had opened his mouth, said one thing, and then? Immediate failure. Immediate regret. Immediate cringe.

And now, here he was, back in his hotel room, sitting around with Ja’Marr, Tee, Andrei, and Sam, while they all tried—and failed—to keep their laughter contained.

It was not contained.

Ja’Marr was straight-up wheezing, clutching his stomach like he had just witnessed the single funniest thing to ever happen in his life. Tee was crying actual tears, face buried in his arm on the hotel couch. Sam just shook his head, chuckling under his breath, while Andrei was at least trying to be helpful but was failing miserably.

“Okay, wait, wait—” Ja’Marr gasped between laughs. “She rolled her eyes at you?”

Joe glared at him. “Yes.”

Ja’Marr lost it again, doubling over with laughter. “Oh, my God.”

“I didn’t even say anything that bad,” Joe muttered, still trying to defend himself.

Tee lifted his head, eyes wet from how hard he had been laughing. “Bro. You walked up to her and immediately acted like she should be grateful you were talking to her.”

Joe groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “I did not.”

“You did,” Sam confirmed, smirking.

“She thought you were a fan, Joe,” Andrei said, shaking his head. “That’s tough.”

Joe just glared at them, all of them, as they continued to laugh at his expense. “Okay, fine. Maybe I came off a little cocky—”

“A little?” Ja’Marr howled.

“—but I swear, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole,” Joe finished, ignoring them. “It just… happened.”

Tee wiped a tear from his face. “Damn. This is worse than I thought.”

Andrei snorted. “I don’t know, man. I think this might actually be good for him.”

“How is this good for me?” Joe snapped.

“Because,” Andrei grinned, “for the first time in your life, you fumbled.”

That set them off again.

Joe just sat there, arms crossed, as his so-called friends lost their minds over his suffering.

When they finally calmed down—two whole minutes of pure humiliation later—Andrei leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. “Alright, so what’s the plan? You gonna try again?”

Joe hesitated. “…I don’t know.”

Ja’Marr gawked at him. “Are you serious? Since when do you back down from anything?”

Joe rolled his eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

Tee smirked. “What? You scared?”

“No,” Joe said immediately, but the thought of messing up again made his stomach twist.

Sam leaned back, arms crossed. “Look, man. If you really want her number, you should just try again before we leave for Ohio.”

Joe exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, yeah, but it’s not like I can just find her.”

Andrei smirked. “I can.”

Joe’s head snapped up. “What?”

“I can find her number,” Andrei repeated. “I know a guy.”

Joe narrowed his eyes. “What kind of guy?”

Andrei just grinned. “Don’t worry about it.”

Joe did worry about it. “That sounds shady as hell.”

Ja’Marr nodded. “Yeah, man, that’s some stalker shit.”

Andrei laughed. “Relax, I’m not being weird. I just have a friend who does PR for the league, and he might have it. It’s not that deep.”

Joe hesitated. On one hand, yeah, that was technically an option. But on the other? That felt like cheating.

“…No,” Joe finally said. “I want to get it myself.”

Andrei shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Then, a slow smirk curled his lips. “Wanna bet on it?”

Joe narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Ja’Marr perked up. “Ohhh, now we’re talkin’.”

Andrei leaned forward. “I bet I can get her number before you do.”

Joe’s jaw clenched. “You just said you were gonna cheat.”

Andrei shrugged. “Didn’t say I’d play fair.”

Sam chuckled. “Damn, Joe, you better not lose to Andrei.”

Tee grinned. “You know his ego can’t handle that.”

Joe’s competitive streak flared at the challenge. “Fine.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and slapped a crisp hundred-dollar bill on the coffee table. “I’m putting money on it.”

Ja’Marr whistled. “Ooooh, he’s serious.”

Joe smirked. “If I win, you all shut the hell up about this forever.”

Tee grinned. “And if you lose?”

Andrei’s eyes gleamed. “Then we get to make fun of you for life.”

Joe huffed. “Whatever. I’m not losing.”

Ja’Marr cackled. “Alright, bet’s on, then.”

Joe leaned back, determined. This wasn’t just about the bet. It wasn’t about proving something to his friends.

It was about her.

And he wasn’t going to lose her.

The club was packed, the bass thrumming deep in your chest, the neon lights casting everything in a hazy glow. You were perched in the booth with Travis, Taylor, and Dalton, trying—really trying—to seem engaged in whatever your supposed boyfriend was talking about.

But you couldn’t.

Because Joe Burrow was here.

And you hated that you noticed him the second he walked in.

You refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was even a blip on your radar. And you were already so over this night.

It wasn’t even that clubs weren’t your scene—you could handle the overpriced drinks, the bass rattling in your chest, the way every conversation required a near-shouting volume just to be heard. But tonight? You had no patience for it.

Especially not with Joe Burrow in the same damn room.

You weren’t looking at him. You weren’t. Not even a glance. You kept your focus locked on Dalton, nodding along to whatever he was saying about off-season workouts, even though you weren’t really listening.

Taylor, bless her heart, shot you a knowing look. You ignored it.

Travis, meanwhile, was sulking into his whiskey. “This place sucks.”

Dalton chuckled. “Not really your vibe?”

Travis made a face. “Not really anyone over the age of twenty-two’s vibe.”

Taylor laughed. “And yet, here you are.”

Travis sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just make it quick.”

You were barely paying attention. Because Joe was here.

You needed a drink.

You excused yourself, weaving through the crowd, making a beeline for the bar. You were halfway through ordering when a presence sidled up beside you, way too close, and you just knew.

You glanced up.

Andrei.

Oh, God.

You knew exactly what this was.

The too-casual lean against the bar, the barely-contained smirk, the way he had way too much interest in you, despite the fact that you had never spoken before?

Yeah. He was trying to get your number. And that meant one thing—Joe told them about the café.

You sighed, already annoyed. “Can I help you?”

Andrei grinned. “I don’t know, can you?”

You rolled your eyes. “So this is a thing now?”

He feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”

You gave him a look. “Don’t play dumb. Joe put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Andrei let out an exaggerated gasp. “Joe? Why would he care?”

You just stared at him.

He smirked. “What, a guy can’t come up and chat with a pretty girl?”

You snorted. “Not when there’s money involved.”

Andrei chuckled, not denying it, which told you everything.

You sighed, shaking your head, already amused despite yourself. “Wow. He really put you guys up to this?”

“Not exactly,” Andrei said. “It was more of a… friendly wager.”

You raised a brow. “What, a bet to see if you could get my number?”

Andrei grinned. “First to get it wins.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Andrei shrugged. “Maybe. But you can’t tell me you’re not at least a little flattered.”

“Oh, so flattered,” you deadpanned.

Andrei chuckled. “Come on, what’s the harm? Just a little number—”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

And then, before Andrei could say another word, he appeared.

Joe.

And damn, did he look annoyed.

“Really, dude?” he said, looking right at Andrei.

Andrei smirked. “What?”

Joe gave him a look.

Andrei grinned, leaning against the bar. “Hey, man. I’m just talking.”

Joe scoffed. “You’re full of shit.”

You bit back a laugh, glancing between them. “This is so stupid.”

Joe ignored you. His eyes stayed locked on Andrei, like he was seconds away from throwing a punch, which was hilarious, because Joe didn’t seem like the type of guy to get worked up over something this dumb.

And Andrei? He loved it.

He smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Why? You jealous?”

Joe scoffed. “Of you? Not a chance.”

Andrei raised a brow. “Then why are you here?”

Joe’s jaw ticked. “Because I don’t need you embarrassing yourself.”

Andrei laughed. “Sounds like an excuse.”

Joe huffed, turning to you. “You really entertaining this?”

You smirked. “I don’t know. Maybe I like having two NFL players fight over me.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “We’re not fighting over you.”

Andrei grinned. “Sounds like something the loser would say.”

Joe glared.

You? You were having the time of your life.

Joe sat down on the barstool beside you like he belonged there, like the whole stupid bet hadn’t just happened, like Andrei wasn’t still smirking at him from a few feet away, clearly enjoying every second of getting under his skin.

You didn’t even have to look at Joe to feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves. It was almost too funny. You had known plenty of guys like him before—the cocky, confident, too-talented-for-their-own-good athletes who acted like they had the whole world figured out. Joe, so far, had done a great job of proving he was exactly that type.

And yet…

You took a sip of your drink, side-eyeing him. He was looking straight ahead, like he was actively willing himself to ignore Andrei, who was still loitering nearby, sipping his beer with all the smugness in the world.

“I think he likes you,” you said, just to mess with him.

Joe exhaled sharply through his nose, a half-laugh, half-scoff. “Yeah, okay.”

“I mean, he was laying it on pretty thick,” you teased.

Joe finally turned to you, giving you a dry look. “You think that was flirting?”

You smirked. “I think he was winning.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “He wasn’t winning.”

“Oh, really? Because it kinda seemed like it.”

Joe shook his head, running a hand through his hair before muttering, “This is so dumb.”

You just smiled. “So dumb.”

Andrei finally decided he had enough fun, pushing off the bar and giving Joe one last little clap on the shoulder before walking off into the crowd, still laughing to himself.

That left just you and Joe.

Alone.

You weren’t sure how you felt about that.

Joe sighed, finally facing you head-on. He looked exasperated, like he couldn’t believe this was his life right now. You, on the other hand, were thoroughly entertained.

“Okay,” he said finally, tilting his head slightly, as if he were considering something. “How about we just… start over?”

You blinked.

Joe must’ve taken your silence as hesitation because he immediately rushed to add, “Not like that. I just mean—this whole thing got off on the wrong foot, and I’m not really trying to make a thing out of it.”

You crossed your arms, amused. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Joe sighed, shaking his head. “I’m serious. We started off on the wrong foot.”

“You were an asshole.”

He exhaled, nodding. “Yeah, I was.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, skeptical. “Why do you even care?”

He didn’t answer right away. He just looked at you, his blue eyes studying you like he was trying to figure you out.

Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seem…” He trailed off, shaking his head like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to finish that thought.

But something about the way he said it, the way his voice was a little softer, a little less cocky than before, made your stomach flip.

And that was dangerous. Because this was a bad idea.

Kylie’s voice rang in your head from the hotel, her laughter when you had practically forgotten about Dalton, her words about how you always chose wrong. And then Jason, the way he had bluntly pointed out your pattern, how you went for the guys who would make your life messy, complicated, and chaotic.

And Joe? He reeked of trouble.

But… maybe that was fun.

Maybe you didn’t want simple. Maybe you didn’t want safe. Maybe you wanted someone who could keep up.

So you looked at him, at this cocky, confident, aggravatingly attractive man who was now—surprisingly—trying to not be any of those things. And instead of saying what you should say, instead of walking away like you should, you smirked.

“Alright, Burrow,” you said, leaning your elbow on the bar, resting your chin in your hand. “Let’s start over.”

Joe’s lips quirked, like he had just won something.

You ignored the way your stomach flipped again.

#joe burrow #joe burrow bengals #joey b #joe shiesty #jb9 #jamarr chase #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x oc

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w2mini · 3 days ago

Text

“Inarizaki with a manager who…” randoms !!

warnings: reader is reserved, fem reader, swearing, platonic or romantic idgaf

IDK bout’ you guys, but every time I think about Inarizaki having a manager, I think about someone who:

Is stereotyped as your typical “quiet” and “reserved” demeanor girlie when in actuality—she just finds herself in a difficult position to open up to the boys. 😓

- I mean, who wouldn’t have a hard time, they’re like top two in the nation and HIGHKEY intimidating to be with, I have respect 4u girl. 🫡 but a job is a job. Kita recruited you since he had to balance his club and academics at one point (also following the coach’s suggestion).

Also should I just mention that you are such a beauty??? Like, maybe if you weren’t so pretty and mysterious then they wouldn’t be bothering you so much just to talk with you!! 😾

- Suna tries to small talk with you sometimes, keyword: tries (his way of trying is giving you the most unnoticeable hints that he wants to talk with you).

- Whenever you begin to feel tired during a long day in practice, Osamu won’t just let it slip past him and hands you some of his mint candy that he has to help you stay awake as he suggests. Yall chill like that🤞

- You and Kita are the ones who are always together, since you guys discuss about the team’s schedule and strategies alongside coach. But that’s just about it.

- Aran and Omimi tends to help you with your duties, especially if it requires lifting heavy weight or a lot of items to carry. We love gentlemen. 🫡

- Riseki is TOO shy to chat with you, but he’s trying his best I swear. 🥲 Your glamorous self just makes him feel like standing beside you feel like a huge offense.

- The closest (🤏) I would consider to be close to you is proably Akagi and Ginjima, they were the ones who approached you with a warm welcome and introduced you to the team as they showed you the ropes of being a manager.

As for Atsumu? I’m gonna need a whole separate section for him hol’ on.

- How do I even start with him.

- Because for the first time, he doesn’t attract your attention, he’s chasing for it.

- You’re supposed to praise him! fangirl over him! shower him with your undying attention! Not just awkwardly standing there and nodding every now and then! 😾

- Can’t you see how hurt his pride is. 😞 (his fault for expecting too much tbh 😹)

- His last straw was during when he was practicing his sets and you were there to watch. So when you approached him, he was expecting the words: “wow you’re amazing Atsumu!”

- Your response?

- “Miya you should probably extend your arms further more so you have better accuracy on the ball.”

- his jaw dropped to the floor.

- YOU? THE MANAGER? giving him TIPS?

- and what’s worst is that you were right and it genuinely improved his sets slightly better, oh he’s never forgetting about this.

But even after all that, you genuinely just could not bring yourself to be close and open up to them, your reason? a lot.

- The volleyball team of Inarizaki is undeniably well known around the campus and to be their manager is either a curse or a blessing.

- actually scrap that. It’s a fucking curse.

- number one. the top on the damn list. their fangirls.

- the amount of them that question you about the team is just too much for your poor social battery to handle. You were their victim number one to harass about the team. (props to Aran for always saving you during times like these 🙂‍↕️)

- which is also why you have a set of rules to yourself whenever you encounter one of the members in the campus: 1) walk quickly past them in the hallways, 2) only talk to them when they initiate it first, and 3) to never bring up anything about them around the campus.

- number two would be the team itself. why? very self explanatory. 😊

- you do not get an ounce of peace and rest around those guys. Especially Atsumu’s endless cycle of jokes and teasing just to get a reaction out of you.

- and that one time Osamu accidentally served a ball towards you. You were on the tribunes just taking notes. WHO SERVES AT THE TRIBUNES.

- but its okay, he bought you a snack as an apology after that on the convenience store run on the way home. His motherfucker of a twin however just laughed at you like a maniac.

- also the amount of strays you have to pick up during practice is EXHAUSTING. Being their manager made your spine feel like 85 years old.

However, you are genuinely such a hardworking girlie🥹 your actions spoke louder than words, it’s just your way of showing you care for them but sometimes you just don’t feel like it’s enough and you don’t think they notice it either because of how reserved you could be.

- Inarizaki’s volleyball team was independent, they didn’t need a manager.

- which is what they think.

- because ever since you arrived, Kita has felt a heavy weight lift off his shoulders (++ coach too). You’ve genuinely helped them in ways that you didn’t deem possible

- you also took notes of the smallest things or even the quiet observations about the team on your notebook (e.g. “Make sure Atsumu doesn’t forget about his water” or “Osamu gets grumpy if he skips meals” etc.)

- Although they may not be vocal about it or have mentioned about it—the team just has so much respect for you. To be able to manage a team like them is impressive. They don’t think anyone would be able to top your managing skills EVER.

So yeah, it kinda just went on like that… not for long. You strictly kept a classmate relationship between them and just went on being their manager—you do your job, but you kept a distance. That is until Inarizaki gets their win against another strong team.

It wasn’t anything serious or sad with what became the turning point in your relationship with the team, I’d say its very Inarizaki like.

- It happened when Inarizaki won against a really strong team, the game was fierce and stressful to watch, but in the end they were able to snatch the gold.

- Undeniably, the boys are all hyped. “We should celebrate! C’mon let’s go out to eat!” Akagi says as he excitedly suggested.

- the others agreed with the idea, especially a certain twin. On the way, they all discussed their orders and plans for later. In the end they all decided to go for ramen.

- You on the other hand kept silent. You decided it was best for you to go home already and let them have their fun, your social battery was draining anyways.

- which COULD’VE been the plan.

- Until Kita turns around to your direction, then offhandedly says: “You’re coming too right?”

- your brain short circuits.

- it doesn’t help with the fact now that the rest is also waiting for your answer.

- is this what they call peer pressure. 😵‍💫

- but it was in this moment that you realize that—they actually want you to be there. Not just as their manager, but as part of the team.

- So you agreed.

- It was a warm moment when you guys were inside the ramen bar, everyone made an effort to include you, making stupid jokes, teasing you slightly, sharing food, etc.

- And, probably for the first time ever, you were laughing with them.

- And, they all just. froze.

- Because they rarely saw you express emotions around them. Heck, not even a laugh!

- They all glanced at each other and nodded, yep, it was like they had antennas saying their common goal: to see you smile more.

In the end, Inarizaki needs a manager who can handle their shit—and love them anyway.

WOOO kinda short but hope u guys enjoyed, I just kinda wanted to share my thoughts BECAUSE every time I write about Inarizaki having a manager, I always imagine someone who’s just keeps to herself yk, but thas js me🤷‍♀️ Thats why I chose Haerin for today’s layout because the personality matches her sm lowk omg

I kinda wanna make this a series tbh, LIKE that one shiratorizawa series in Ao3 I FORGOT THE NAME but you guys know right….. right.

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insidekatmind · 1 day ago

Text

More than enemies-Cho Sang woo

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

The conflict had become your daily bread. Every day, every interaction, was a new opportunity to challenge each other, to throw sharp jabs, to ridicule each other. Neither of you ever gave in. The silence was tense, but it was soon shattered by another exchange that seemed to never end. The room, though small, felt too big to contain the tension between you and Sang-woo.

“You really don’t understand a damn thing, do you?” Sang-woo huffed, crossing his arms with an air of superiority. “Do you think I’m talking to please you?”

You didn’t even need to respond right away. You knew there was no reasoning with him, but his words always hurt, more than you ever wanted to admit. “I don’t care if you’re talking to please me,” you replied coldly, “but maybe you should learn to respect people instead of thinking they’re beneath you.”

Sang-woo laughed, but it was a laugh full of contempt. “Respect? Have you ever wondered why I don’t respect you? Maybe because you don’t deserve respect.”

His words stung, but you weren’t going to back down. “Maybe you should look at yourself in the mirror, Sang-woo. Because all I see is a man who’s trying to look bigger than he really is.”

The others, sitting in the corner of the room, were enjoying the spectacle of your constant back-and-forth. Gi-hun was the first to laugh, amused by the way you two were challenging each other like a pair of wild animals ready to pounce. Ali, with his always genuine smile, looked confused but intrigued by the situation. Sae-byeok, on the other hand, observed silently, her sharp gaze tracking every move, every word, as though it was a chess game where you two were the key pieces.

“Look at them, looks like they’re putting on a show,” Gi-hun whispered, but loud enough to be heard. “There’s more tension here than in one of our games.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them breaks down,” Ali added, chuckling. “They’re so used to fighting, I don’t think they can stop.”

Sae-byeok lifted the corner of her mouth, watching intently, as though she was trying to figure out where this dynamic would lead. “There’s got to be something more to it,” she said seriously. “It’s not just hate.”

You could feel your blood boiling, the anger burning inside, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. “Yeah, sure, as if you’re the only one here with a brain,” you replied, but the sarcasm in your voice didn’t hide the frustration eating away at you.

Sang-woo, however, wasn’t backing down. “You don’t get it, do you? That’s exactly what pisses me off about you. Always acting tough, but underneath that hard exterior, there’s just a bunch of weaknesses.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst, but before you could respond, Gi-hun threw a glance between you and Sang-woo. “Okay, guys, enough, we can’t be here all day watching you two fight,” he said, his tone joking but a little nervous, as if he was trying to calm the situation. “Please, at least let us breathe.”

Ali chuckled. “I think we’ve just witnessed a new form of psychological torture.”

Sae-byeok remained silent, but a small smile crept onto her face as she watched the way you both provoked each other, as though she was taking mental notes for something that might come in handy later.

But you knew, despite everything, it wasn’t over. The war between you and Sang-woo would never end. It didn’t matter how much you hated each other. It was too deep, too ingrained. And you both knew it.

After a while you get the guard to take you to the bathroom and sang woo follows you. Since the bathrooms were unique for both males and females.You were washing your hands when you heard his voice.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk on his face.“You don’t need to hide in the bathroom to avoid me, you know,” he said, his tone a mix of mockery and amusement.You turn around, looking at him boredly. "Now a person can't go to the bathroom because otherwise it will make your head go up" you say approaching him.

Sang-woo chuckled. "Oh, come on, we both know that’s not what I meant." He didn’t flinch as you got closer; the smirk on his face only seemed to intensify."Besides, you’re not exactly subtle," he said, tilting his head to one side. "It’s almost pathetic, the way you try to avoid me."

Your blood boiled at his words, but you kept your cool, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you get worked up. "I’m not avoiding you," you replied, your voice tinged with irritation. "I just find you absolutely insufferable."

His smirk grew wider, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Oh, please, you’re not fooling anyone." He took a step closer, closing the distance between you two. "The way you glare at me, the way you snap at my every word, it’s clear that I get under your skin," he said, his voice low and taunting.

You backed away instinctually as he stepped closer, but you quickly regained your composure, refusing to let him get the upper hand. "Don’t flatter yourself,” you retorted. “You’re not the first arrogant, overconfident prick I’ve had to deal with.”

Sango woo looks at you and grabs you by the neck pushing you against the bathroom wall. “careful how you talk little girl” Sang woo says looking at you as his grip on your neck tightened.

Your heart jumped at the sudden physical contact and the way he pressed you against the wall, his grip around your neck tight and threatening. "What, you can't handle hearing the truth?" You retorted, trying to keep your voice from quivering, even as his grip tightened, making it harder to talk.He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "You really enjoy pushing my buttons, don’t you?"

You tried to stand your ground, ignoring the way your heart raced in your chest and your breath caught in your throat, but the close proximity to him and the grip he had on your neck made it difficult to think straight. "At least I'm not afraid to be honest, unlike some people," you manage to say, glaring up at him defiantly.

Sang-woo’s grip tightened even more, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully, as if to punish you for your stubbornness. He leaned in even closer, his face only inches from yours now, his gaze intense and unyielding."Honesty, huh?" He huffed, his voice a low growl. "Or perhaps you’re just too stupid to know when to keep your mouth shut."

Sang-woo’s eyes widened slightly as your hand touched his arm, and his grip on your neck loosened just a bit. He noticed you looking at his lips, and for a brief moment, it seemed like something passed between you two, an almost electric energy flowing through the air. He held your gaze, his expression still hardened, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes, a hint of surprise and perhaps a shadow of something else.

Sang woo kisses you roughly without saying anything. The kiss took you by surprise, Sang-woo's lips pressing against yours roughly, demanding and controlling. You felt a mix of shock and defiance, but something deep within you responded to the kiss, a desire you'd never wanted to admit being ignited. For a moment, everything else melted away, the tension and animosity that always hung between you two seemed to vanish. There was just the two of you, the feel of his lips on yours, the firm grip of his hand on your neck.

You moan softly and try to hold on to him. Sang-woo's lips moved from your lips to your jawline, your neck, creating a trail of kisses that sent shivers down your spine. He pushed you harder against the wall, his grip around your waist tight and possessive. The sound of your soft moan seemed to awaken something in him, a feral hunger that made his actions more urgent. "You’re mine now," he whispered against your skin, his voice raspy and possessive.

You moan and give him more space as you look at him longingly. Sang-woo’s eyes darkened with desire as he pressed himself against you, his body molding to yours in a way that felt both dangerous and intoxicating. He moved his hand from your neck to your face, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, his touch almost caressing. "You’ve been mine since the moment we met," he whispered, his voice rough with a possessive edge.

Your breath hitched at his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew the truth in them, even though you’d always denied it. There was something about him, a darkness and intensity that called to something deep within you. His grip on your waist tightened, and he pulled you even closer, his lips against your ear. "Say you’re mine," he demanded, his voice low and seductive.

“I'm yours,” you whisper, clinging to him, kissing his jaw. Sang-woo let out a low moan as your lips touched his jaw, his hand on your waist sliding up to your back, pulling you even closer.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He caught your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his eyes dark and hooded, his breath fanning across your face.

He takes off your sweatpants and underwear and quickly unwinds you and turns you gently against the wall, entering you, making you both moan. “So tight,” he whispers in his ear as he pushes into you. You moan and lean into him and Sang woo nips at your neck, making you moan lo

“You make such beautiful sounds” Sang woo whispers as he places his hands tighter on your hips fucking you harder.

“Sang woo” you moan loudly as you lean against the wall and he grunts. Sang-woo growls lowly, the sound sending a jolt through your body. He pushes you harder against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, his hands roaming over you possessively.

"Say it again," he demands, his lips moving down to your neck, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin. "Say my name again."

“Sango woo” you moan even louder feeling his thrusts increase. Sang-woo lets out a guttural moan as you say his name, his grip on you tightening almost to the point of pain.

"That’s right," he breathes, his voice ragged, barely coherent as he continues to move against you, his desires taking over all reason. "Moan my name, let me hear you." Every sound you make, every gasp and moan drives him wilder. He can hardly control himself, the primal need to claim you, to make you his and only his, is all-consuming. His lips move back to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites, marking you as his.

He bites down on a sensitive spot on your neck and you let out a yelp of pain, but he just laughs against your skin, the pain adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations. Sang-woo's body is pressed tightly against yours, his muscles rippling with the effort to hold himself back. He can sense he’s on the edge, his breath ragged and his heart pounding.

"You're going to make me lose control," he mutters against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone. His hands roams over your body, leaving burning trails wherever they touch. He grabs onto your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh, as if he's trying to brand you with his touch.

He pushes his cock into you even harder making you both cum. At that moment Sae byeok, Gi hun and Ali come in since they were worried that you hadn't come back. And when they see the scene Ali giggles. “Finally,” Gi-hun murmurs.

Sang-woo freezes, his body still pressed against you as Sae-byeok and Gi-hun appear in the doorway, their expressions a mix of surprise and disbelief. It takes a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in, and a wave of shame and embarrassment washes over both of you. Ali laughs heartily, clearly finding the entire situation amusing. "Looks like we were right!" he exclaims.

Sang woo covers your body with his. “Go away” Sang woo murmurs who was still inside you.

Gi-hun and Sae-byeok exchange amused glances, but both of them seem to realize the gravity of the situation. "Alright, alright, we'll go," Gi-hun relents, grabbing Ali's arm and heading for the door. "You two behave yourselves."

Ali's laughter trails behind him as they exit, leaving you and Sang-woo alone once again, but this time with the aftermath of what had just happened.

161 notes · View notes

itsnesss · 2 days ago

Text

𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | jj maybank × fem!reader

summary | you receive an anonymous gift, and when you find jj on the dock, he reveals he’s the one behind it

warnings | fluff, romance, kissing, mild language

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

Valentine’s Day was a strange concept to you. Growing up, it was always just a day filled with cheesy card exchanges, over-the-top flowers, and chocolates—none of which ever seemed to be in your hands. You were the girl who, while happy for those who had their special someone, spent the day with her friends, watching rom-coms and making sarcastic comments about the holiday.

This year, you thought, would be no different. Until you stepped into your boat that morning.

There it was, resting on the seat: a small, heart-shaped box of chocolates with a red ribbon tied around it. At first, you thought it was a joke, something someone had left behind. But when you pulled the card from under the ribbon, your heart skipped a beat.

"To my secret Valentine. I bet you don’t know who I am."

Your brows furrowed. There was no name. No clue. Just a note that seemed too personal to be from anyone else but one person.

JJ Maybank.

But that was impossible, right? JJ wasn’t the type to send sweet chocolates or write sappy notes. He was the guy who did stupid things like steal beers from the store or make bets with John B. and Pope. He wasn’t the romantic type. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Still, the thought lingered in your mind as you stared at the note, turning it over and over in your hands.

You stuffed it into your jacket pocket before anyone else could see it. JJ, you thought. But there was no way.

The day dragged on. It was business as usual—your friends laughing over lunch, the usual teasing from the guys, and then, as usual, you slipping away to spend some time alone, thinking.

But your mind kept drifting back to that damn note. That chocolate. The way the handwriting had looked strangely familiar. You shook the thought away, telling yourself you were being ridiculous. JJ Maybank, your friend, wasn’t the type to be thoughtful.

Or was he?

By the time the sun started to dip below the horizon, you found yourself on the way to The Wreck. Kiara needed some help fixing a few things, and you were happy to spend some time there, away from the confusion in your mind.

After you helped Kiara, you felt the need to clear your head. So, you decided to take a walk down to the dock. The ocean breeze felt refreshing against your face as you walked along the shore, letting your thoughts drift with the tide.

As you neared the dock, you saw him. JJ Maybank. Sitting on the edge, looking out over the water. His feet dangled, just above the surface, and in his hand was a can of beer—nothing unusual for him.

You paused for a moment, just watching him. He had that same careless, carefree attitude, his hair messy and tousled by the wind. You could see the light of the setting sun catching on his features, casting a soft glow that made him look... different. Vulnerable, even. Something about him wasn’t the usual carefree chaos.

You took a step forward, and the sound of your footstep caught his attention. He turned, eyes lighting up when he saw you.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to join the party,” he said, grinning that signature mischievous grin of his.

“Just wanted some air,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you walked toward him. You weren’t sure why, but the note and the chocolates were still running through your head.

JJ patted the spot next to him on the dock. “Well, sit down then. I could use some company.”

You hesitated, but only for a moment, before sitting beside him. The wind blew through your hair, and for a second, you didn’t say anything, both of you just watching the water.

But then you pulled the crumpled note from your pocket and held it up in front of him. His eyes locked onto it immediately.

“What’s this?” he asked, a teasing smile curling at the corners of his lips.

“You tell me,” you said, trying to sound unaffected, but your voice gave you away. You were nervous, unsure of what he’d say.

He unfolded the note slowly, reading it with exaggerated care. “Hmm. ‘To my secret Valentine...’ You sure you don’t know who this is from?”

“I don’t,” you shot back quickly, though you were starting to feel a small flutter in your chest. Was it possible? No, it couldn’t be.

JJ glanced at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You know, this sounds like something someone would do if they had feelings for you. You know, chocolates, sweet notes, all that mushy stuff.”

You felt heat rising to your face, but you tried to brush it off. “That’s stupid. You’re right, it’s probably just some prank".

JJ leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky. “Yeah, maybe. Or maybe it’s me.”

You froze. Your heart skipped, and you glanced at him, unsure of whether you heard him right.

“What?” you whispered, not sure if you were ready to hear his answer.

JJ turned to face you, his grin softening into something a little more serious. “Maybe I’m the one who left that note. Maybe I’m the one who wants to be your Valentine.”

The words hung in the air for a long moment. You couldn’t process them right away. JJ Maybank, the guy who was always up for a laugh, who had the worst timing with girls, was actually saying these words to you. And he wasn’t joking. He wasn’t teasing.

“JJ, what are you—”

But before you could finish your sentence, JJ leaned in, cutting you off with a soft, but firm kiss. It wasn’t urgent or rushed. It was gentle, tentative, as if he was waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. You didn’t want to.

When you finally pulled away, your breath caught in your throat. His forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily in the quiet evening air.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered, a smile playing on his lips.

Your heart was still racing, but you managed to find your voice. “Happy Valentine’s Day, JJ.”

You could hear the waves crashing against the dock below you, but in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. There was no need for big gestures or elaborate words. It was just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment, and in that moment, everything felt right.

JJ pulled back slightly, still smiling. “So… I guess this means you’re my Valentine now, huh?”

You smiled back, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the sun. “I guess it does.”

And as you sat there together, with the stars beginning to dot the sky above you, you realized that maybe, just maybe, this was the kind of Valentine’s Day that could change everything.

#jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #outer banks x fem reader #outer banks x you #jj one shot #jj outer banks #jj obx fic

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hisfavegirl · 2 days ago

Text

HOTD Characters when you posted something that angered them on instagram.

a/n : with their revenge.

Aegon :

Aegon wasn’t just jealous—he was seething.

He hadn’t been paying much attention to his phone, probably nursing a drink or sprawled out on his bed in boredom, when his notifications started going off. Dozens of messages, tags, and mentions, all leading back to one thing.

Your post.

The second he saw it, his entire body tensed. His fingers gripped the phone so tightly he nearly cracked the screen.

You were practically naked. The lighting was teasing, the pose deliberate—bare skin, just barely covered, revealing far too much. His mouth went dry, his jaw locked, and his pulse spiked with something dark and possessive.

And then, the comments.

“I think I just died and went to heaven.”

“No way you’re single posting this.”

“You’re actually cruel for this.”

“Let me take you out, I’ll treat you better than he ever could.”

Aegon snapped.

His tongue pressed hard against his cheek, his breathing slow and measured—forced control. Every part of him burned. The thought of other men looking at you like this, imagining things they had no right to—it made his vision blur with rage.

Did you want this? Were you trying to make him lose it? Because if so, congratulations. It worked.

His hands were shaking as he opened your messages.

Aegon: What the fuck is wrong with you?

Aegon: Take it down. NOW.

Seconds passed. No response.

His jaw ticked, his heart pounding. He could already see you smirking at your phone, enjoying this.

Aegon: Do you think this is funny? You think I’ll just sit back while you let every desperate asshole on the internet drool over you?

Another moment of silence.

And then—

Aegon: Fine. You don’t want to listen? Then I’m coming to you.

He didn’t care where you were, who you were with. This wasn’t going to be solved over text. If you thought you could push him, make him jealous, tease him like this—

You were about to find out exactly what jealous Aegon Targaryen really looked like.

Aegon Revenge :

THE INTERNET WAS NOT READY.

People had barely survived your last stunt.

And then—

He ended them.

A video.

Dim lighting. A massive, ornate mirror reflecting everything.

You—completely bare, wrapped in Aegon’s arms, your back pressed flush against his chest. His grip on your thighs, fingers digging in as he held you up, your body rocking against him.

And then—

Him.

Silver hair messy, sweat dripping down his bare chest. His lips bruised, parted, his eyes half-lidded—but focused. Locked on the mirror. On you. On himself.

He didn’t even turn off the sound.

Your whimpers. His low groans. The sound of skin against skin.

And then—his voice. Rough. Arrogant. Possessive.

“Let them watch. Let them know exactly who you belong to.”

And the caption?

“You’ll never be me. You’ll never have her.”

THE INTERNET? DESTROYED.

The guys:

“What the actual fuck?”

“No way. NO WAY. I refuse.”

“Delete this right now, Aegon, I’m not joking.”

“BLOCKED. REPORTED. SOBBING.”

“She was supposed to be ours. OURS, YOU BASTARD.”

“First, she posts that picture, now THIS? Haven’t we suffered enough?”

“Aegon. BRO. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.”

“This wasn’t just a flex. This was a declaration of war.”

“Bro didn’t even try to be subtle. Just straight-up ruined us.”

“I WAS LIVING A PEACEFUL LIFE, AEGON.”

“I can’t even be mad. He won. He fucking won.”

The Girls:

“This is the most disrespectful thing I have ever seen, and I need more.”

“The mirror. The hand placement. The fucking arrogance. I’m unwell.”

“HOW DO I SIGN UP FOR THIS LIFE.”

“He knows he’s that guy, and he’s making sure we do too.”

“Aegon is actually dangerous because why is this so hot??”

“This should be illegal. In every country. And yet I can’t look away.”

Meanwhile, Aegon?

He was smirking, watching the absolute chaos in the comments, lazily scrolling, completely unbothered.

And just to finish them off, he dropped a comment under his own post:

“Cope. She’s screaming my name, not yours.”

With that—

The internet was officially incinerated.

Aemond :

Aemond rarely paid attention to social media. It was a distraction, a meaningless void filled with people desperate for attention. But when his phone buzzed relentlessly—notifications flooding in, people tagging him, sending him something over and over—he knew something was wrong.

Then he saw it.

Your post.

His entire body went rigid. His grip on the phone tightened, fingers twitching against the screen as his eye locked onto the image.

You were practically naked.

The dim lighting barely concealed you, your pose deliberate, teasing, calculated. It left just enough to the imagination while making it painfully obvious what you wanted people to see.

And judging by the comments, it was working.

“You’re actually a goddess.”

“This is illegal. It has to be.”

“I need a minute. Maybe an hour. Maybe my whole life.”

“If he doesn’t wife you after this, I will.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His chest burned with something vicious, a white-hot fury that spread through his veins like wildfire.

Who the fuck did these men think they were? Speaking like this—like they even had the right to look at you, let alone imagine more.

His breathing was slow, controlled, forced—because if he let himself fully feel this, he’d break something.

He opened your messages, his fingers moving before he could even think.

Aemond: Take it down.

No response.

His teeth ground together, his patience already paper-thin. He could feel you smirking at your phone, waiting, pushing him.

Aemond: Now.

Still nothing.

A dangerous heat flickered behind his eye. His grip on the phone was dangerous now, his mind already racing with possibilities.

Aemond: You think this is a game? You think I’ll just sit back while you let every desperate bastard in the world stare at what’s mine?

His lips curled into a sneer as he refreshed your post, seeing the numbers climb—more likes, more comments, more eyes on you.

Fine. If you wanted attention, he was about to give it to you.

Aemond: You’re going to regret this.

And before he even gave you a chance to answer, he sent one last message.

Aemond: I’m coming to you. Right now.

You wanted to test him? To push him to the edge? You were about to see exactly what happened when Aemond Targaryen is jealous.

Aemond revenge :

The Internet Was Not Just Broken—It Was Destroyed.

Aemond had been quiet lately. Too quiet.

People should have known he was plotting.

And then—

He dropped the video.

Dark sheets. Low lighting. Your body sprawled against his bed, wrists tied above your head, satin bindings digging into your skin.

And then—

His hand.

Slow. Intentional. Inside your cunt.

Aemond wasn’t even looking at the camera—his gaze was locked on you. Sharp. Unrelenting. His lips curled into something dangerous as he watched you struggle beneath him.

And then—his voice. Low. Rough. Possessive.

“They can watch. But they’ll never touch.”

And the caption?

“Don’t bother fantasizing. She’s already ruined for anyone else.”

The Internet? Utterly Incinerated.

The Guys:

“I can’t keep doing this, bro.”

“AEMOND. THIS WAS NOT NECESSARY.”

“This wasn’t even a flex. This was pure domination.”

“I was a happy man. Now I’m in hell.”

“He could have just hinted at it. But no. He had to prove it.”

“What the actual fuck is this??”

“I just dropped to my knees in Walmart.”

“I need time to process. Maybe a lifetime.”

“WHO ALLOWED THIS???”

“No way. NO WAY. I refuse to accept this reality.”

“This is actually a hate crime"

The Girls:

“The hand placement. The bindings. I actually feel pain.”

“Aemond Targaryen is actually disrespectful for this.”

“I don’t know whether to cry, scream, or book a one-way flight to his bed.”

“The way he’s just watching her struggle—I am NOT OKAY.”

“WHO GAVE HIM THE RIGHT??”

“I hate her. I love her. I want to be her.”

“The fact that he tied her up and still made sure to show off?? I need a moment.”

Meanwhile, Aemond?

Unbothered. Probably sipping wine, watching men suffer, knowing no one could ever take you from him.

And just to finish them off, he dropped a comment under his own post:

“Cry harder. She’s not leaving my bed.”

With that—

The internet was officially annihilated.

Jace :

Jace wasn’t the type to obsess over social media. He didn’t scroll mindlessly or waste time checking comments. But when his phone wouldn’t stop buzzing—when his notifications were flooded with messages, tags, and people sending him something over and over—he knew something was up.

Then he saw it.

And everything else faded.

You. Practically naked. The lighting was soft, shadows barely concealing you. The way you posed, the way your skin was on full display—every inch of the picture was deliberate.

And the comments?

“Holy fucking shit.”

“No way in hell Jace is letting this slide.”

“You’re actually unreal.”

“If you ever need someone to treat you better… just say the word, baby.”

Jace’s jaw locked. His grip on the phone tightened so hard his knuckles went white.

His chest burned—jealousy, rage, something dark and possessive twisting deep in his gut. Did you want this attention? Were you enjoying the way these men spoke to you, the way they looked at you? Did you forget who you belonged to?

His vision blurred as he opened your messages, his fingers moving before he could think.

Jace: Take it down. Now.

Nothing.

His knee bounced, jaw ticking as he refreshed your page, watching the numbers climb. More likes. More comments. More eyes on you.

Jace: Don’t make me repeat myself.

Still nothing.

His tongue pressed hard against the inside of his cheek, his blood boiling. He knew you were doing this on purpose. Testing him. Pushing him.

Jace: You think this is funny? Letting every desperate asshole in the world think they have a chance?

He exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand through his hair before sending one last message.

Jace: Fine. You don’t want to listen? I’m coming to you.

Because if you thought you could make him jealous, make him furious, and just get away with it?

You were about to learn exactly what happened when Jace Velaryon snapped.

Jace Revenge :

The Internet Was NOT Okay.

People were still recovering from the last time you posted something that had them spiraling—

And then he ruined lives all over again.

A video.

Low, moody lighting. The golden glow of a bedside lamp casting soft shadows over your bare back, your skin flushed, the smooth curve of your spine on full display.

And then—

His hand.

Fingers twisting in your hair, pulling just enough to tilt your head back, exposing the slope of your neck, the sharp inhale that followed.

His other hand—out of frame, but you could feel it.

The video was silent, except for the sound of breathing—his and yours, deep, uneven, filled with undeniable tension.

And the caption?

“Mine.”

The Internet? SHATTERED.

The Guys:

“Jace, bro. What the fuck.”

“This is personal. I feel personally attacked.”

“Nah. This is war.”

"BLOCKED. REPORTED. UNFOLLOWED.”

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m logging out forever.”

“This is actually illegal. I’m calling the police.”

“Jace, be honest… was this necessary? Was it??”

“I just threw my phone across the room. I can’t look at this.”

“Bro really said ‘you thought you had a chance?’ and ended us all.”

“At least let me heal from the last post first, damn.”

The Girls:

“That hand placement? That possessiveness? Yeah, I’m in pain.”

“Jace Velaryon is the standard. I’m sorry.”

“The hand in the hair. The bare back. The silence. Yeah, I’m not okay.”

“HOW DO I APPLY TO BE HER?”

“The way he’s handling her like that… this is too much.”

“I will never get over this. Ever.”

“Who gave him the right to post something like this?”

Meanwhile, Jace?

Completely unbothered. Probably smirking, watching the chaos unfold, scrolling through the absolute meltdown happening in his comments.

And just to ruin them further, he dropped a comment under his own post:

“Don’t be jealous. She’s right where she belongs.”

With that—

The internet was officially in ruins.

Daemon :

Daemon wasn’t a man who checked social media often. He didn’t care for it. But when his phone wouldn’t stop buzzing—when people kept sending him something, tagging him, warning him—he knew something was wrong.

Then he saw it.

And the world around him went silent.

It was you. Practically naked.

Soft lighting, shadows teasing just enough to make the image dangerous. The way you posed—deliberate, taunting, meant to provoke.

And the comments?

“I need a moment. Or a lifetime.”

“She’s actually unreal.”

“Daemon’s done for. There’s no way he’s letting this slide.”

“If he won’t treat you right, just know my DMs are open, .”

His fingers curled around his phone, grip tightening until the device creaked.

His jaw clenched, his breathing slow and controlled—because if he let himself fully feel this, if he let the jealousy and rage take hold, he would break something.

Or someone.

You were his. And yet, here you were, putting yourself on display for every desperate, pathetic fool to see. Did you enjoy this? The attention? The way they drooled over you?

A muscle in his jaw ticked as he opened your messages.

Daemon: Delete it. Now.

Nothing.

His nostrils flared, his lips pressing into a thin line. He refreshed the page—saw the likes climbing, the comments piling up. More eyes on you. More men thinking they had a chance.

Daemon: I won’t ask again.

Still, no response.

His vision blurred at the edges, his pulse pounding hard in his ears. He didn’t need to guess what you were doing—smirking at your phone, waiting, pushing him.

Fine. You wanted to play this game?

He sent one last message.

Daemon: I hope you had your fun. Because I’m coming to you. And when I get there, you’re going to regret making me jealous.

If you thought you could tease him, taunt him, make him seethe like this and get away with it—

You were about to learn exactly what happened when Daemon Targaryen snapped.

Daemon Revenge :

The Internet Was Not Ready.

People were barely breathing after the last time you pulled a stunt—

And then, he ended them.

A video.

Steam curled in the dimly lit bathroom, water cascading down your bare skin. Your body, glistening under the soft glow, was pressed firmly against the fogged-up glass.

And then—

Daemon.

His hand, wrapped around your wrists, pinning them behind your back. His body, completely covering yours, silver hair damp, clinging to his skin.

He wasn’t looking at the camera—he was looking at you.

His lips ghosted along your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as his voice—low, smug, downright sinful—rumbled against your ear:

“Go on, love. Tell them how badly you want me.”

And the caption?

"Try harder. She’s not going anywhere."

The Internet? Decimated.

The Guys:

“THIS IS A CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY.”

“I am NOT okay. This is NOT okay.”

“You didn’t just flex. You obliterated us.”

“Daemon, bro, was this NECESSARY???”

“The way he claimed her, I—no, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Just say you hate us and go.”

“I actually felt physical pain watching this.”

“Daemon, bro. This was unnecessary.”

“HE’S NOT EVEN FLEXING—HE’S JUST OWNING US.”

“This man has no mercy. ZERO.”

“I would literally sell my soul to trade places with him.”

The Girls:

“I CAN’T DO THIS TODAY.”

“The way he’s just holding her there like that… I need to go outside.”

“Hands behind her back??? IN THE SHOWER??? I am ACTUALLY in pain.”

“That hand placement… I’m unwell.”

“You’re telling me she gets to live this life for FREE?”

“Daemon is disrespectful for this and I love it.”

“The way he’s handling her… yeah, I’m done.”

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and I will never recover.”

Meanwhile, Daemon?

He was grinning, scrolling through the utter destruction he left in his wake, watching the internet collectively lose its mind.

And just to make it worse, he dropped a comment under his own post:

“Tell me again how you had a chance?”

With that—

The internet was officially in ruins.

Luke :

Luke was never the jealous type. He was sweet, easygoing—never the one to start fights, never the one to lose his temper.

But when he saw your post?

That soft, kindhearted boy? Gone.

His breath caught in his throat as his grip tightened around his phone, fingers pressing into the edges so hard the plastic nearly cracked. His jaw clenched, his heartbeat hammering in his chest.

You.

Barely covered, skin on full display, your gaze sultry, teasing—like you knew exactly what you were doing.

And the comments.

“This is my Roman Empire.”

“Imagine waking up next to her every morning.”

“Luke is too soft for this, he ain’t doing what needs to be done.”

“If Luke won’t handle her, I will.”

��She doesn’t belong to just one man. She’s for us.”

His vision blurred with rage. Us? The fuck do they mean, us? Did they really think they had a chance? That they could talk about you like this?

He immediately opened your messages, his breathing sharp, his fingers moving fast.

Luke: Take it down. Now.

Nothing.

His nostrils flared. He refreshed the post—saw the likes climbing, the comments piling up.

Luke: I’m serious.

Still nothing.

His patience? Gone. His normally warm, easygoing demeanor? Shattered.

You thought this was funny, didn’t you? You were pushing him, testing him.

Fine.

His next message was short.

Luke: Keep playing, love. But when I see you, don’t bother acting innocent. You wanted my attention? You’ve got it.

And Luke Velaryon?

He never let things slide.

Luke Revenge :

The internet collapsed.

People were barely breathing after your last post, still clawing their way back to sanity—

And then Luke decided to ruin lives.

A video.

Dim lighting, tangled sheets, the heavy sound of breathing filling the air. The camera was shaky, intimate—Luke wasn’t filming for them, he was filming for himself.

And then—

Your voice.

A broken, breathless moan of his name, soft, needy, wrecked.

And in the background?

Luke.

Smirking.

The angle barely caught him—just a glimpse of his sweat-slicked skin, the possessive grip of his hands on your waist. His voice, low, teasing, barely above a whisper:

“Louder, love. Let them know exactly who you belong to.”

And the caption?

"I don’t hear them laughing now."

The Internet Was NOT Okay.

The Guys:

“Nah. This ain’t right.”

“Luke, bro, please, have some mercy.”

“I can’t breathe. I actually can’t breathe.”

“I was having a good day.”

“I need everyone to stop what they’re doing and just process this.”

“He knew what he was doing. And I hate him for it.”

The Girls:

“I am actually going to scream.”

“Luke Velaryon is disrespectful.”

“She is so lucky and I hate it here.”

“I need what she has. IMMEDIATELY.”

“He really had to flex like this? On today of all days?”

Meanwhile, Luke?

He was grinning, scrolling through the absolute carnage in his comments, watching men and women completely unravel.

And just to finish them off, he dropped a comment under his own post:

“Jealous? You should be.”

With that—

The internet was officially deceased.

Margor :

Maegor didn’t do social media. He barely tolerated its existence. But when his phone wouldn’t stop buzzing—when people kept sending him something with messages that ranged from “Bro, you need to handle this” to “LMAO, she’s testing you”—he finally checked.

And his blood boiled.

It was you.

Practically naked.

Soft lighting, shadows teasing every dangerous curve, your expression taunting—as if you knew exactly what you were doing. As if you wanted to drive men insane.

And the comments.

“This is a religious experience.”

“If Maegor won’t handle you, I will.”

“She’s too stunning to be owned by just one man.”

“She belongs to the people now.”

“Maegor is somewhere flipping tables right now.”

His grip tightened around his phone, fingers curling so hard the device nearly cracked. His chest heaved as he breathed through his nose, his jaw locked so tight it ached.

You were his. And yet, here you were, putting yourself on display for every desperate, pathetic fool to see. Did you enjoy this? The attention? The way they lusted after you?

He opened your messages, his anger controlled—for now.

Maegor : The fuck you thinking?

Maegor: Delete it. Now.

Nothing.

His nostrils flared, his patience already threadbare. He refreshed the page—saw the likes climbing, the comments piling up. More eyes on you. More men thinking they had a chance.

Maegor: I won’t ask again.

Still, no response.

His vision darkened at the edges, his rage sinking deep into his bones. He could already see you smirking at your phone, waiting, pushing him.

Fine. You wanted to play this game?

His next message was short.

Maegor: I hope you enjoyed your little show. Because when I get to you, you’re going to learn exactly what happens when you make me jealous.

And when Maegor Targaryen snapped—

There was no escaping him.

Maegor Revenge :

The Internet Was Not Just Broken—It Was Obliterated.

No one was prepared. No one even had time to brace themselves.

Because Maegor Targaryen?

He didn’t just post—he declared war.

A video.

Dim lighting. A massive, gilded mirror reflecting the carnage behind it. Your body—wrecked, ruined, utterly claimed—pressed against the cold glass, your bare skin glistening with sweat.

And then—

Him.

Towering over you, still inside you, his broad hands gripping your hips so tightly there would be bruises—his bruises.

He didn’t even bother hiding his face.

Silver hair wild, lips parted, gaze locked on the mirror, watching himself own you in every way imaginable.

And then—his voice. Low, dark, dangerous.

“Let them watch.”

And the caption?

"You’ll never be me."

The Internet? Dead on Arrival.

The Guys:

“I have never been more jealous of a man in my entire life.”

“Maegor, please, have some HUMAN DECENCY.”

“This wasn’t a flex. This was a public execution.”

“I was happy. I was living my life. And now? I have to deal with this.”

“He’s not even trying to be humble. He’s just taunting us.”

“You know what? I’m logging off. I can’t do this today.”

The Girls:

“I’m actually feral right now.”

“HOW DO I APPLY TO BE HER.”

“The way he’s just holding her there like she’s nothing—I need a moment.”

“THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AN EMAIL, MAEGOR.”

“I can’t even hate. She’s living my dream.”

“This is the hottest thing I have ever seen. And I hate that I will never recover from it.”

Meanwhile, Maegor?

He wasn’t even looking at his phone. He had better things to do.

But when he finally did check?

He smirked. Slowly. Lazily. Completely unapologetic.

And just to make it worse, he dropped a single comment under his own post:

“Stay jealous. She’s not leaving my bed anytime soon.”

With that—

The internet was officially incinerated.

Aegon I :

Aegon wasn’t the jealous type—at least, that’s what he liked to tell himself. He was easygoing, laid-back, the type to laugh things off.

But then he saw your post.

And something inside him snapped.

His phone nearly slipped from his fingers as he stared at the screen. His chest rose and fell, breathing suddenly too shallow as his jaw tightened—so tight it ached.

You.

Barely covered, skin on full display, lips slightly parted like you knew exactly what you were doing. Like you wanted people to look.

And the comments—

“This is actually life-changing.”

“No way Aegon lets her get away with this LMAO.”

“She’s unreal. Divine. Untouchable.”

“If Aegon won’t claim her, I will.”

“Bro, she’s for the people now.”

His grip on his phone tightened so hard his knuckles turned white. The people? The fucking people? Did they think this was a game? That they could just—talk about you like that?

He opened your messages, fingers moving with an urgency that wasn’t entirely controlled.

Aegon: Take it down.

No response.

His jaw clenched harder. He refreshed the post. More likes. More thirsty comments from pathetic little nobodies who clearly didn’t understand their place.

Aegon: I’m not asking.

Still nothing.

His tongue swiped over his teeth as a low growl built in his throat. Oh, you thought this was funny, didn’t you? You were playing with him. Pushing him.

Fine.

His next message was short.

Aegon: I hope you got all the attention you wanted, baby. Because when I see you, the only thing you’ll be worrying about is how long I plan to keep you in my bed.

And Aegon Targaryen?

He never made empty threats.

Aegon I Revenge :

The Internet Was Not Ready.

People were barely recovering from the last time you decided to ruin their lives—

And then, he destroyed them.

A video.

Low lighting. The soft rustling of silk sheets. Your body glowing, tangled in his bed, looking like sin incarnate—your breath uneven, lips parted, skin flushed.

And then—

His hand.

Large, firm, resting possessively on your breast, fingers slightly digging in, making it painfully clear that you were his.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was him.

Aegon, half-lidded cocky smirk, his other hand holding the camera, his cock still inside you, his grip lazy, casual—like he had all the time in the world.

And then, his voice—low, smug, devastating:

“Yeah… go ahead. Say something now.”

And the caption?

"Don’t act like you wouldn’t trade places."

The Internet? Absolutely Unhinged.

The Guys:

“Aegon, bro. Please. Have some compassion.”

“This is actually cruel.”

“I hate him so much but I respect it.”

“HE’S NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE HUMBLE ABOUT IT.”

“I was having a good day. Now I have to rethink my whole life.”

“This wasn’t necessary. He just wanted to hurt us.”

The Girls:

“She’s so lucky and I hate her.”

"Not even gonna lie, this ruined my entire day.”

“The way he’s just sitting there like a smug little bastard—yeah, I’m sick.”

“Aegon is the biggest menace to ever exist.”

“I have never known true jealousy until this moment.”

“She’s living the dream. I can’t even be mad.”

“HE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT HE’S DOING AND IT’S DISRESPECTFUL.”

Meanwhile, Aegon?

He was laughing, scrolling through the absolute devastation in his comments, watching men spiral into despair and women descend into chaos.

And just to finish them off, he dropped a comment under his own post:

“Keep crying. She’s still moaning my name.”

And with that—

The internet was officially in shambles.

Rhaenyra :

Rhaenyra wasn’t one to obsess over social media, but when her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing—when people kept tagging her, sending her messages, practically warning her—she knew something was up.

And then she saw it.

Her stomach dropped. Her grip on the phone tightened.

It was you.

Draped in soft lighting, skin bare and glowing, your pose deliberate—calculated to tease, to tempt, to drive people insane. It left just enough to the imagination, while making it clear you knew exactly what you were doing.

And the comments?

“I can’t believe we’re witnessing perfection in real time.”

“This is actually dangerous.”

“If Rhaenyra doesn’t kill someone over this, I’ll be shocked.”

“No way she’s letting this slide.”

“If she won’t claim you, I will.”

Rhaenyra’s nails dug into her palm as she gritted her teeth. A sharp flare of jealousy surged through her—hot and possessive, a burning anger she rarely felt this intensely.

Because who were they to talk about you like this? To look at you like you weren’t hers?

Did you want this attention? Did you enjoy knowing people were drooling over you, imagining things they had no right to even think about?

She exhaled sharply through her nose, forcing herself to breathe before she opened your messages.

Rhaenyra: Take it down. Now.

No response.

Her fingers tightened around her phone as she refreshed your post. More likes. More comments. More pathetic fools thinking they had a chance.

Rhaenyra: I will not ask again.

Still nothing.

She could see you smirking at your phone, relishing in this, testing her.

Fine.

Her next message was short, sharp, final.

Rhaenyra: I’m coming to you.

If you thought she would just sit back, let you taunt her, let you make her jealous like this—

You were gravely mistaken.

Rhaenyra Revenge :

The internet collapsed.

People were barely recovering from your last post—scrolling, coping, trying to move on—when Rhaenyra ended them all with one photo.

A single image that sent the entire world into ruins.

It was you.

In her bed.

Soft lighting, silk sheets tangled around your body. Your head tilted back into the pillow, lips slightly parted, the glow of your skin dangerous in the dim light. And then—her hand. Resting on your thigh, fingers glistening with your release sprawled in a way that left no room for misinterpretation. She wasn’t just touching you. She was claiming you.

And the caption?

“Mine.”

The internet lost its mind.

Guys and girls alike descended into madness:

The Guys:

“I am actually about to throw up.”

“Rhaenyra, PLEASE, LET’S TALK ABOUT THIS.”

“Bro, how am I supposed to recover from this??”

“This isn’t fair. This is violence.”

“We lost. We fucking lost.”

The Girls:

“I’m happy for her but also devastated for me.”

“THIS COULD HAVE BEEN ME IN ANOTHER LIFE.”

“Do I congratulate them or do I cry? Or both?”

“Rhaenyra, what was the reason? WHAT WAS THE REASON??”

“I’m choosing to live in denial.”

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra? She was smirking at her phone, watching the despair unfold. She knew exactly what she was doing—dropping the photo, sitting back, and enjoying the chaos.

And just to truly bury everyone, she left a single comment under her own post:

“You can stop dreaming now.”

And with that—

The internet was officially in shambles.

Alicent :

Alicent never cared much for social media. She found it shallow, a place for desperate attention-seekers, a distraction from real matters. But when her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing—when messages kept coming in, some filled with concern, others with amusement—she knew something was wrong.

And then she saw it.

Her breath hitched. Her fingers tightened around her phone.

It was you.

Practically naked.

The lighting was soft, intimate—dangerous. The way you posed, the way your bare skin was on display, your confidence radiating off the screen… It was deliberate. It was a taunt.

And the comments—the flood of people thirsting over you, speaking as if they had a right to look at you like this, as if they could ever touch you—

“Mother of the gods, I need a moment.”

“Alicent is somewhere seething right now.”

“You’re actually unreal. Perfection.”

“If she won’t claim you, I will.”

“How does it feel to be the most desired person alive???”

Alicent’s grip on her phone was so tight, her knuckles turned white. A slow, hot wave of jealousy coiled in her chest—sharp, possessive, furious.

Did you enjoy this? The way people devoured you with their eyes? Did you want them to look at you, to desire you?

Her jaw locked as she opened your messages, her fingers moving with icy precision.

Alicent: Take it down. Now.

No response.

She refreshed the page. More likes. More disgusting, pathetic fools thinking they had a chance.

Alicent: I will not repeat myself.

Still nothing.

Her nails dug into her palm, her patience snapping thread by thread. She knew you were doing this on purpose. Testing her. Pushing her.

Fine.

Her next message was short. Final.

Alicent: If you think this little stunt is going to go unpunished, you are gravely mistaken.

If you thought she would sit back and allow you to tease her, to make her jealous, to tempt her patience—

You were about to deeply regret it.

Alicent Revenge :

The internet broke.

People were just recovering from your last post—scrolling, coping, trying to move on—when Alicent ended them all in one swift, merciless stroke.

A single photo.

Dim lighting, silk sheets slightly messy, shadows stretching across warm skin. You—in her bed. Head tilted back, lips slightly parted, hair yanked firmly in Alicent’s grip. The way her fingers curled into your strands—possessive, unrelenting, a silent but undeniable claim.

And the caption?

“Mine. And I don’t share.”

The internet descended into absolute chaos.

The Guys:

“I need a support group. This is actually painful.”

“Bro, I can’t compete with this.”

“Alicent did not have to flex this hard.”

“I swear I was fine five seconds ago.”

“The grip she has—on the hair, on the situation, on my emotions—I can’t take this.”

The Girls:

“Happy for them but also screaming inside.”

“This could have been me in another timeline.”

“Alicent said know your place, and I guess I will.”

“Do I cry? Do I throw my phone? Do I respect it? All of the above?”

“I was coping until she posted this. Now I’m just suffering.”

Meanwhile, Alicent? She was satisfied. Watching the world crumble, notifications exploding with people’s rage, jealousy, and despair.

And to truly finish them off, she left a single comment under her own post:

“Go ahead and cry. It changes nothing.”

And with that—

The internet was officially six feet under.

Tag list : @danytar @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @callsignwidow @ashblooddragons

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valkyriexo · 3 days ago

Text

When You Start Getting Distant Because You’re in a Relationship | Hyung Line

ᑉ³pairing; Friend! OT8 x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Headcannon, angst

ᑉ³warnings; none I think!

ᑉ³authors note; I hope you enjoy <3

╰┈➤ Chan

Tries to be the mature one, but it kills him inside. He tells himself that as long as you’re happy, he should be happy too…but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest every time you pull away.

Overthinks everything. Did he say something wrong? Did he do something to make you uncomfortable? He replays every conversation in his head, searching for a reason why you’re slipping away.

Still checks up on you, even when you don’t respond right away. Sends casual “Hope you’re doing okay” texts or reminds you to eat and rest..because no matter how much it hurts, he can’t stop caring about you.

Pretends to be fine around the others, but they can tell. He still smiles, still jokes around, but his energy is off. The sparkle in his eyes when he talks about you? Gone.

Tries to convince himself that he’s just your friend…but jealousy betrays him. Seeing you with someone else makes his stomach twist in ways he hates. He laughs it off, but deep down, he’s unraveling.

"Right. I get it." His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it, something almost bitter. You’ve known him long enough to recognize when he’s holding back.

"You’re happy with them, huh?" He lets out a dry chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "That’s good. That’s… that’s what I wanted for you."

You open your mouth to respond, but he exhales sharply, shaking his head.

"No, actually….screw that." He suddenly looks at you, and for the first time, you see it. The frustration. The heartbreak. The feelings he’s been shoving down for who knows how long.

"I hate this," he admits, voice quieter now. "I hate watching you slip away because of some guy...do you even realize how much I care about you?"

He lets out a soft, bitter laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I thought we had something. And maybe that was just me being stupid, maybe I was reading too much into things—but I…" He stops himself, lips pressing into a thin line.

Then, barely above a whisper—

"I was supposed to be the one making you smile like that."

╰┈➤ Minho

Acts like he doesn’t care…but he definitely cares. At first, he just observes, waiting to see if you’ll come back on your own. But when you keep pulling away, he starts getting annoyed.

Gets passive-aggressive. His usual teasing turns sharper. If you cancel plans, he just shrugs and says, “Figured you’d be too busy anyway.”

Refuses to ask what’s wrong. He’s stubborn. If you want to push him away, fine. He won’t beg for your attention—but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

His eyes always give him away. Even when he plays it cool, you can see the way his gaze lingers, the way his expression darkens whenever your S/O is mentioned.

Starts distancing himself before you can fully leave him behind. If you don’t need him anymore, then maybe it’s easier if he’s the one to walk away first.

Finally snaps when he catches you avoiding him. If you won’t give him an explanation, he’ll demand one.

"So, am I just not important to you anymore?" The words hit you like a slap, and when you turn to face him, he is standing there,arms crossed, face blank, but eyes burning.

"Because that’s what it feels like," he continues, voice quieter but laced with frustration. "One second, we’re fine. And then suddenly, you’re too busy, too distant....too… gone."

You stammer, trying to explain, but he lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head.

"Yeah, whatever. You’ve got someone better now, right?"

His tone is mocking, but there’s a crack in it...just enough to betray him. Just enough to show that this isn’t just annoyance.

It’s hurt.

He turns to leave, but then

He stops. His fists clench at his sides. He doesn’t face you when he speaks next, voice barely above a whisper.

"I liked you first."

Your breath catches.

"You know that, right?" he finally looks at you, expression unreadable but eyes raw with emotion. "I’ve liked you for so long, but I waited. I waited because I thought… I thought maybe you’d see me, too."

A pause. A breath. Then—

"And now, I have to sit here and watch someone else have you?"

His voice is tight, controlled, but the pain is there. He takes a step back, shaking his head, his usual confidence gone.

"Forget it."

╰┈➤ Changbin

At first, he doesn’t take it seriously. He jokes around, playfully whining about how you’re ditching him for your “new best friend.” But when he realizes it’s not a phase, his smile starts feeling forced.

Keeps trying to reach out. Sends you funny memes, random gym updates, or voice notes just to see if you’ll respond like you used to. When you don’t? Yeah, it stings.

Overcompensates by acting louder and happier around others. He hates feeling like the sad, jealous guy, so he pretends it doesn’t bother him. But his jokes get a little sharper, his laughs a little less genuine.

Starts working out even more. If he can’t control the way you’re slipping away, at least he can control something. He pushes himself harder at the gym, but no amount of training can distract him from missing you.

Gets mad at himself for feeling jealous. He tells himself he should just be happy for you...but the thought of someone else being the reason for your smile makes his stomach churn.

"Are you serious right now?"

His voice is sharp, frustrated.

"I get it, okay? You have someone new in your life. That’s great. But does that mean I just—what? Stop existing?"

You open your mouth to explain, but he doesn’t let you.

"Do you know how stupid I’ve felt? Sitting here, waiting for you to text back, waiting for you to just—acknowledge me?" He lets out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "I’ve never had to fight this hard just to talk to you." He sighs.

"And I hate that I’m jealous." The words come out softer, but they hit harder. His jaw clenches, and for once, Changbin looks uncertain.

"I hate that I care this much. That every time you talk about them, I feel like I’m losing you a little more." He swallows hard, eyes meeting to yours.

"I wanted to be the one you looked at like that." He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

"Forget it. Just… just tell me one thing.." his voice wavers, but he keeps going, "Did I ever even have a chance?"

╰┈➤ Hyunjin

At first, he pretends it doesn’t bother him. He convinces himself you’re just busy and that things will go back to normal soon. But as days turn into weeks, the distance between you feels crushing.

Becomes unusually quiet around you. He still smiles, still laughs, but there’s a hesitation now. A pause before he speaks, like he’s choosing his words carefully...afraid of saying something he can’t take back.

Starts expressing his emotions through art instead. If you won’t talk to him, his sketchbook becomes his outlet. Page after page filled with drawings of you, his way of holding on when he feels like he’s losing you.

Acts like he’s fine, but his eyes give him away. Whenever you mention your S/O, his eyes tell you everything you need to know....sadness, frustration, something he doesn’t want you to see.

Becomes distant, too—but not because he wants to. If you don’t need him anymore, maybe it’s better if he stops clinging. But every time he tries to walk away, he finds himself waiting. Hoping.

"Just tell me what I did wrong."

His voice is quiet but firm, and when you finally look at him, Hyunjin’s expression is unreadable...except for his eyes. His eyes are full of everything.

"Because I don’t get it," he continues, laughing bitterly. "We were fine, and then suddenly, you’re too busy, like I don’t even exist to you anymore."

You shift uncomfortably, but he steps closer, shaking his head.

"You don’t even look at me the same."

His voice wavers, and for the first time, you see it..The vulnerability, the pain he’s been trying so hard to hide.

"I should be happy for you," he admits, exhaling shakily. "I tried to be happy for you." He lets out a dry chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "But every time I see you with them, I just—"

He stops himself, his lips pressing into a thin line. His fingers twitch at his sides like he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lets out a slow breath, taking a step back.

"I guess that was never an option, was it?"

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2-shots2-thehead · 2 days ago

Text

- I don’t see what anyone can see in anyone else.. But you -

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Summary : Dating Spencer headcanons bc I luv him n wanted to write smth smosh related >-<

Pairing : Spencer Agnew (Smosh) x GN!Reader (Use of Y/n)

Warnings : suggestive joke, other than that pretty much just fluff

A/N : the spencer brainrot is real oml 🙏🙏 im so fruity

- oh my god

- it took this man SO LONG. to ask you out

- like im talking working together for YEARS

- but once he finally did, it came off as like the most casual thing ever

- even if he was psyching himself up for this for MONTHS

- “hey, y/n, maybe after we’re done filming y’wanna grab lunch? like..as a date.?”

- he only started showing his nerves once you actually said yes

- he looked visibly surprised and then just nodded shyly without another word and walked off

- ever since that little interaction, you guys were together

- constantly.

- never seen without the other.

- “where’s y/n?” “well, i just saw spencer in the games studio so probably there”

- pretty much every single social media post since when you started dating has been about you

- CATS.

- you guys have at LEAST one cat

- you cannot convince me otherwise

- but hopefully more because you can never have too many, right ?

- always just bringing you random shit to work

- we’ve all seen the smosh mouth TNTL where spencer just keeps pulling random drinks out from under the table ?

- there’s just always little treats like that at your desk where you occasionally edit

- more often than not they’re drinks he grabs from the gas station, along with a kickstart for himself, of course

- just how you two are always inseparable, it increases by about 10 billion percent at parties

- i mean, let’s be real, there’s never a day where he’s at a party and wouldn’t rather be home playing a video game with your cats

- if he doesn’t know anyone else at the party, your hand is in his the entire time and he’s talking your ear off

- speaking of which, hand holding.

- so. much. handholding.

- like he wouldn’t be big on pda, but it’s just the little things like that

- him carrying you for many a TNTL bit

- or just putting your head on his shoulder while he’s streaming (we all know what i’m talking about)

- aside from the little surprise drinks, there are more often than not little sticky note messages on your desk

- especially at times where you’re editing and he’s filming and that means you’re apart for however maybe hours

- on days like that, he’s making it everyone’s problem

- “yeah, so then we-“ “y’know, this would be fun with y/n”

- yet another person who uses horrible pickup lines as a joke

- sometimes the sticky notes are the most poetic, sweet, romantic thing you’ve ever read

- ..and sometimes it’s “are you a beaver ? because DAM”

- “are you my laptop ? because you’re really hot and i’m a little bit concerned”

- “my favorite pokémon’s beedrill because i’m gonna bee-drillin’ y-“

- you guys build lego sets together all the time

- sometimes they’re little roses

- sometimes it’s the millennium falcon

- but his personal favorite is the hedgehog picnic date ⬇️⬇️⬇️

- they are now sat atop a very high, fancy shelf in your shared apartment

- you guys watch movies n shows together all the time

- you have a specific show though that you always and only watch together

- “you didn’t watch it without me, right” “don’t worry, I turned it off when you fell asleep”

- you guys play video games together all the time

- maybe you’re not as good as him, but he’s always open to teaching

- you guys practice instruments together if you play

- if not, he just plays guitar for you

- never too loud, but you can hear it of course

- he picks special songs he thinks you’ll like and learns them

#fanfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #writing #x reader #x yn #smoshblr #smosh #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #smosh spencer #youtube #x you #x y/n

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hxrsheykisses · 3 days ago

Note

It’s me again girl💔 could u do the eltingville boys with a reader that has a bf that mistreats them? I would like to see how they react ESPECIALLY if the bf is preventing her from hanging out with them (wink wink) - 💐 anon

THIS IS GOING TO BE SO GOOD!!! I love making drama with the boys cause I just know that they will be a hot disastrous mess💔 thank you so much for requesting 💐 anon!!♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

They gon run fades

Cause this whole thing will send them on a mission. They ALL will postpone the club meeting to have a discussion to lowkey lay hands on this lil boyfriend of yours. They may not be all that in physique wise but they aren’t gonna allow him to not only keep you away from them, but to also mistreat you.

They all had their own personal experiences with your boyfriend so they knew that he was just a bitch.

Bill, we all know that he is an asshole, it’s no secret. But before Bill could even give him shit, he beat him to it. Your boyfriend was talking some nonsense that hurt his ego—taking shit on his interests and his looks while he ain’t look nothing special himself. Bill’s ego is the most sensitive thing about him so anything and anyone can make it hurt bad. He was already tweaking out after that first encounter.

Pete automatically knew from the start when you brought your boyfriend around. He could also tell that you acted so differently when he was around and that set off some red flags. So Pete has been wary of him. He didn’t appreciate how your boyfriend would talk to you as if you were stupid and treated you like shit. Now, Pete ain’t just gonna sit around and listen to him bark and yap so of course he spoke out about it to him. Your boyfriend just said some snarky comments about how Pete was doing way too fucking much and that set him off.

Josh would be the butt of the joke whenever your boyfriend was around and it’ll all be about his weight and shit. Josh would say stuff back but he doesn’t go far enough. Your boyfriend seems be appear to be experienced in knowing how to make people shut the fuck up apparently so everytime Josh tries to shoot his shot with a insult or two, it all comes crashing down on him.

Jerry has said something one time to your boyfriend when he flat out called you out of your name, like he said how it wasn’t cool for him to call you that considering how you two are dating and stuff. Obviously that all went out. one ear and out the other and it had Jerry boiling on the inside because he just couldn’t stand watching your boyfriend treat you in such a fashion—with no shame too.

The point where it got serious was when your boyfriend prevented you from doing anything with the boys. This meant no club meetings, no hanging out outside the meetings, plans, or even simply making small talk if you were to cross paths—everything was a big no no. (And if I remember correctly…) You guys were 17 year olds—why was your boyfriend preventing you from hanging out outside? Why is he trying to take the ropes and keep you away from them when you are damn near grown?

The boys have planned a confrontation after sneaking and talking to you (wasn’t an easy thing to do…), they convinced you that your boyfriend wasn’t a good guy for you to be with and how they can tell that it’s taking a toll on you. It was a tough decision but it was the right one. So, they all planned on scheduling a confrontation with your boyfriend…the plan was to catch the two of you walking around the block, and all the boys basically team up against your boyfriend. You on the other hand, with some extra backup, you will make the official choice to break up with him.

The situation was terrible and resulted in a small physical fight between the boys but in the end it all worked out with some bruises and cuts in the end—you were finally free from the grasp of your shitty boyfriend at least’

On a real note, the boys were really worried about you and you were always on their mind when you and this bitch were dating. They didn’t want you to end up getting hurt more than you already did by this guy and they weren’t going to sit around and allow it to happen. Sure, they aren’t necessarily good people themselves but you are their friend and they can’t risk seeing you get hurt like that.

#eltingville bill #eltingville jerry #eltingville josh #eltingville pete #the eltingville club #pete dinunzio #welcome to eltingville #jerry stokes #josh levy #bill dickey #bill dickey x reader #josh levy x reader #jerry stokes x reader #pete dinunzio x reader #kissy 💋#fluff #oneshot #drabble

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dreamyluigi · 2 days ago

Text

superstar saga luigi crashout thoughts

looking once again at this awesome piece by yamari-san and how it sparked a lot of thoughts in my brain about luigi's treatment throughout SS

(link to the pic, this artist is also a huge inspiration for me)

through this whole game luigi is consistently ignored/disrespected by almost every NPC who recognizes mario, always being seen as That Other Guy or The Brother Guy or Lu... Louis? What Was His Name Again? etc. i like to think for the most part luigi is so used to this already, like it's par for the course for awhile especially in the beginning of the game - like, this is the first time (by RPG standards) he's actually gotten to travel alongside his brother like this. he didn't want to, but i think as time goes on he finds himself enjoying their time together and feels useful for once. despite that, NPCs continuously disrespect him throughout the course of the game, even after he's proven himself to be just as strong and capable as mario. you'd think after awhile that starts to wear on a guy, right?

of course there are random characters who admire luigi, there always will be. and characters who genuinely acknowledge him as a superstar like mario! but... even peasley disrespects him at times, despite being one of the ones who also gives him compliments and a confidence boost. maybe he's a little airheaded and doesn't recognize some of the disrespectful things he does/says but at the end of it all luigi is still rejected.

luigi's number one goal is to help mario, and i think he'd let mario do just about anything to him in order to achieve that. but i think the culmination of multiple characters ignoring him, forgetting him, etc., and then being hammered into a surfboard just makes him boil over. like... for real, the joke's over. the name Joke's End is the perfect area and time for him to just completely lose it. he's done being just useful, he has worked so hard, done so much to help, he wants recognition for his efforts - not just from the people they help but from mario himself too.

mario of courseeee loves him so much and is probably too thickheaded to even think he did anything wrong. but when weegee finally snaps at him to take him seriously! no one ever takes him seriously! i finally get to come on an adventure with you and nobody even cares! why do i have to be the surfboard!? i think they have a long talk about it... and mario absolutely agrees that luigi deserves just as much superstardom as he does. it's something they've needed to acknowlege forever but just never did because luigi always stayed back, stayed behind, willingly, perhaps out of cowardice perhaps out of fear that he'd drag mario down. but after realizing they have perfect synergy in battle and outside of it, his confidence grows. mario gives him that strength. and he needs to be respected for it!

for as much shit as folks like to give starlow, she is not even in this game and it's the most luigi has ever been disrespected... she has her moments of course but i feel like it balances out with her being kind of the only source of grief luigi gets. in other M&L games after SS i think luigi gets a lot less BS from random NPCs so it doesn't feel as harsh to me? maybe i'm a starlow apologist. i think she's funny. i don't think luigi appreciates it but i think it affects him less than nearly everyone in SS being like Who is this guy lol. Why are you wearing mario's clothes. Are you a fanboy or something (he is but like damn!)

it makes me happy that snoutlet exists. luigi always needs a little bit of bullying as a treat, but the way snoutlet absolutely loves him, praises him, thinks he's a genius, it's what he deserves after all this time of being forgotten or disrespected. and i think mario watching the progression throughout the M&L series of folks respecting and loving luigi more and more the more adventures they take together makes him feel happy and fuzzy inside too. he's a humble guy and seeing his brother get praised makes him feel much more proud than if it was directed at himself

"M&L RPGs aren't sequential-" to me they are. if you look hard enough you will see.

#dream.txt #i'm sick as fjuck today so let's ramble about luigi for awhile

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saebyeokbliss · 16 hours ago

Text

JUST MEET ME AT THE APT.— K. SAE-BYEOK

CHAPTER SEVEN

synopsis: managing a rising rock band is already chaotic enough, but when you're stuck touring with four reckless musicians, things get even messier. between late-night facetime calls, teasing that feels a little too knowing, and a certain guitarist who might just be your biggest problem, keeping things professional is getting harder by the second. but hey, no one said the music industry was easy.

warnings: mutual pining, intense eye contact, teasing that borders on flirting (or maybe it is flirting), secondhand embarrassment, slow burn that burns, emotional whiplash

playlist: spotify

Sae-Byeok stormed back into the Kang household, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

The girls were still on their phones, their laughter filling the living room as they scrolled through whatever Jisoo had sent now.

It only made her angrier.

Without a word, she reached out and snatched Ji-Yeong’s phone right from her hands.

"Hey—what the hell, dude?" Ji-Yeong yelped, reaching for it, but Sae-Byeok was quicker.

Before anyone could react, she grabbed Se-Mi’s and No-Eul’s too, holding all three devices in her hands like some kind of hostage negotiator.

"The fuck is your problem?" Se-Mi scowled, making a swipe for her phone.

Sae-Byeok took a step back, her grip tightening. "Do any of you even realize what you did tonight?"

That made them pause.

Ji-Yeong frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Sae-Byeok scoffed, shaking her head. "Her."

The room went quiet.

"You were so busy with this fucking group chat that you didn’t even notice her sitting there, completely left out."

Se-Mi’s face fell slightly. "Wait… are you talking about—?"

Sae-Byeok exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "Yes."

No-Eul, who had been watching quietly, leaned back against the couch. "I told you she looked sad."

Sae-Byeok’s glare flickered to her. "Yeah, and none of us did anything about it."

That made the room even more uncomfortable.

Se-Mi shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of her head. "Shit… I mean, we didn’t do it on purpose."

"That doesn’t matter," Sae-Byeok snapped. "She was sitting right there, and none of us—none of us—bothered to make her feel included. And then we laughed about some stupid group chat she wasn’t even in, like it wouldn’t affect her."

Ji-Yeong groaned, rubbing her face. "Fuck."

No-Eul, still eerily calm, tilted her head. "You ignored her too, you know."

Sae-Byeok stiffened.

Se-Mi nodded slowly. "Yeah, like… we weren’t the only ones."

Ji-Yeong crossed her arms. "You barely even looked at her, Sae. And now you’re yelling at us?"

Before Sae-Byeok could retort, another voice cut in.

"You all ignored her."

They turned to see Cheol, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

Sae-Byeok’s little brother had clearly been listening in, his usually playful expression now serious.

"You guys didn’t see her face when she was sitting there," he continued. "She looked sad until I started hanging out with her."

Sae-Byeok’s stomach twisted.

Cheol’s voice softened. "She acts like she doesn’t care, but she does."

Silence fell over the room.

Ji-Yeong sighed, rubbing her temples. "We’re idiots."

No-Eul shrugged. "Took you long enough to realize."

Sae-Byeok clenched her jaw, the guilt now fully sinking in.

She had messed up.

They all had.

And now, she had to figure out how to fix it.

The small Seoul venue was buzzing with energy, fans already lining up outside, eager for an intimate performance from HOT DIVISION.

You arrived early, as always, ready to handle logistics, double-check schedules, and make sure everything ran smoothly.

Like always.

Like nothing had happened.

You greeted the girls with your usual easygoing smile, slipping into conversation effortlessly. You joked with Ji-Yeong, checked in with Se-Mi about the setlist, and made sure No-Eul’s equipment was all in order.

Business as usual.

But No-Eul wasn’t buying it.

Neither was Sae-Byeok.

Sae-Byeok lingered in the background, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

No-Eul, however, wasn’t one to stay quiet—not when something wasn’t sitting right.

You were backstage, adjusting mic placements when No-Eul casually leaned against the wall beside you.

"You don’t have to act like everything’s fine, you know."

You froze for half a second before forcing a small laugh. "What are you talking about? I’m fine."

No-Eul gave you a pointed look. "You’re not."

You swallowed, keeping your hands busy with the mic in front of you. "Look, it’s nothing. It’s stupid. I don’t want to make things awkward before a show."

No-Eul sighed, crossing her arms. "It’s not stupid if it hurt you."

You hesitated.

And then, quieter, she added, "I’m sorry."

That was what did it.

Your throat tightened, eyes stinging as you blinked rapidly, trying so hard to keep it together.

No-Eul noticed immediately.

"Shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry—"

You let out a weak laugh, quickly wiping at your eyes. "I’m not crying."

"You’re totally crying."

You shook your head, voice a little wobbly. "I just—thank you. For saying it. For noticing."

No-Eul nodded, stepping closer. "I should’ve said something sooner. Should’ve made sure you were okay instead of just watching it happen."

You took a shaky breath. "It’s okay. It really is."

No-Eul didn’t look convinced. But instead of pushing, she simply pulled you into a hug.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It wasn’t over the top.

Just a quiet, steady warmth that made you feel seen.

You exhaled, hugging her back. "Thanks, No-Eul."

She pulled away, patting your shoulder. "We’re gonna do better. I promise."

You nodded, forcing a small smile. "Now go kill it out there."

She smirked. "Obviously."

And just like that, it was time.

The show was about to begin.

And somewhere in the background, Sae-Byeok was still watching.

taglist: @everly-summers-solace @knfthxv @madebysae @knfthxv @katieschry1 @imlackingsleep @lyzem @stellssxo @wiltingconquest @peelover25@monroesturnns @laurenkens @yenyu1s @idontliketoread2137 @bitchybananaflower @lyuuw

#sae byeok #fanfic #saebyeok x reader #squid game #wlw fiction #kang sae byeok x reader #angst #wuh luh wuh #⋆˚࿔ just meet me at the apt.#wlw yearning

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grimesve1l · 11 hours ago

Text

Get it back

Read previous part here

Summary: Rafe helps make things right

Warnings: Swearing, mention of weapons + violence

Y/n turns to Rafe. "Your sister stole from Barry?" She asks. "What?" he responds. "That's what he just told me." Y/n says standing up. "Sarah? Nah she's hanging around some pouges right now but she wouldn't do something like that." Rafe replies. "Well sounds like she did so you better figure that out cause Barry is not happy." Y/n says grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

"Wait. Where are you going?" Rafe asks grabbing Y/n's arm. "I gotta go calm Barry down." she says turning back around "and get his money back." she adds. "Lemme help you" Rafe says trying to pull her back. "In case you couldn't tell from his screaming on the phone Barry's mad at you too." Y/n says as she unlocks the door.

"Look you're cute and I like you but Barry's family and right now your family fucked him over so looks like we've both got shit to fix. Get your sister to give the money back or something." Y/n says before she walks out the door. "Shit!" Rafe yells once he knows she can no longer hear him.

He rushes downstairs to Topper and Kelce "Yo y'all gotta get everybody outta my house." "Why and what happened to the touron?" Topper asked. "Don't worry about it and she's not a touron." Rafe says going up to other groups telling them to leave.

Y/n's made it back home at this point and has gone inside to see Barry. "Barry where are you?" She calls out. He comes around the corner tucking a gun in his waistband. "What are you doing?" she asks concerned. "I'm getting my shit back tonight." Barry says pushing past Y/n. "Wait. I'm coming too just wait a sec." she says going go her room to grab something.

"Y/n I already told you you're not getting involved with this shit okay? I shouldn't have even let you fuck around with Rafe but-" Barry gets cut off by a loud knock on the door. "This better be them damn pouges with my money." Barry says throwing the door open. "Where's my money Rafe I know your sister took it." He says to Rafe as he stands in the doorway.

"Okay let's go. Y/n says re-entering the room "What are you doing here Rafe?" Y/n says noticing him. "Look I don't know where your money is but Sarah and her friends are probably at John B's place. Let's go there and get the money back." Rafe says to Barry. "Sounds like a plan to me, let's go." Y/n says trying to walk out the door.

"No." Barry and Rafe say simultaneously as Rafe puts his arm in front of Y/n's waist to keep her from leaving. "So I grabbed this for nothing?" Y/n says pulling out a gun of her own from her purse. "Where the-? Man I don't have time for this shit. You stay here while me and Rafe handle this. A'ight?" Barry says to her. "Fine just don't die. If you do i'll be pissed." she says giving him a hug goodbye.

Y/n watches the two leave in Rafes truck. She attempts to stay up but falls asleep while waiting for them. She wakes up to Barry talking to Rafe. "They really thought they could get away with that shit. Huh?"

"What time is it?" Y/n asks looking at the two in front of her. "Hell if I know but I got my shit back." Barry's says putting the money in her face. She pushes it away as she sits up to check the time. "Damn it only took y'all an hour? What'd y'all do?" she asks as Rafe sits beside her. "Don't worry about it." Barry says going to put his money back.

"What happened here?" Y/n asks reaching to touch a fresh cut above Rafes eyebrow. "Nothing, you should see the other guy." he jokes. Y/n laughs putting her head on his shoulder. "It's late you should stay." she says. "Yea?" he responds. "Mhm in my room." Y/n adds.

"Barry wont mind?" Rafe asks. "He doesn't control who I take to my room." Y/n tells him standing up. "Come on." she says motioning for him to follow her. Rafe gets up and follows her down the hall. They pass Barry's room on the way. "Where you think you going country club?" he asks leaning against his door.

"Leave him alone Barry, he's staying in my room." Y/n responds. "If y'all get loud i'm kicking both of y'all ." he says only partly joking. "Yeah yeah goodnight Barry." Y/n says continuing to her room. Once her and Rafe are inside she closes the door and falls face first into her bed letting out a content sigh.

"I gotta change" she says getting back up and going to her closet. Rafe sits on the side of the bed and starts taking of his shoes. When he turns around he's met with Y/n's topless back. He stops in his track as she puts on a tank top. She takes off her shorts in exchange for sleep shorts before finally turning to face him.

"You gonna sleep like that?" she asks pointing at his clothes. "Oh umm, nah" he says as he takes off his shirt and shorts. She turns off the light before crawling into bed but he hesitates. She can still see his face faintly due to a small light on her dresser.

"Less than a couple hours ago you were all over me in your bed but now you're scared to get in mine? Come on I don't bite." she says pulling the covers back and patting the bed. "Unless you're into that." She jokes.

He gets in bed and she moves to put her head on his chest. He wraps his arm around her before saying "You know I had fun tonight. Before the whole Barry thing at least." "I did too, especially in your room." she says while trailing her hand down his chest to his lower abdomen.

"I was thinking." he starts "I wanna take you out before you start working." "Are you asking me out?" Y/n asks turning to look at him. "Yeah" he says meeting her gaze. She smiles before agreeing.

"So you gonna take me to some fancy rich place." Y/n asks. "That what you want?" Rafe responds. "I don't know, i've never been on a date before." Y/n says. Rafe turns to look at her. "You've never been on a date?" he asks not believing her. "Nah, a guy hasn't ever really caught my attention like that. Not like you have." she says cuddling closer to him. Rafe doesn't respond but he smiles as he thinks about how he'll make the date special for her.

A/n: this is kinda short but i wanted to post this so i can get to the next chapter cuz i'm excited for it. i promise the next chapter is js gonna be pure fluff❤️

#obx fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe x y/n #fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx fic #obx fluff #obx fanfic #rafe x barry's cousin!reader

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pedricos · 14 hours ago

Note

hector fort prompt #8? x

Héctor Fort – don't cry, i hate it when you cry .ᐟ

a.n: its been so long since i wrote a angst, sorry if its not so good.. also, english is not my first language, srry for any mistakes

warnings: light angst, comforting ending, light suggestive joke at the end (1,4k words)

why were they so mean to you?

you meet your boyfriend way before him becoming a barcelona star.

you two were only six when you met, both your families already being friends for ages. you basically grew up together! he was your first crush at middle school, when you would watch his games when he was still so little. he was also, your first kiss.

before entering high school, you never had kissed anyone. you were painful inexperienced, but héctor was the one teaching you how to kiss properly, and being patient with you, no matter how many times you got the tongue timing wrong. you can almost get a laugh from the way he tells the story.

he asked you to be his girlfriend when you both were 15, so young and full of love and admiration already. he thinks you're the prettiest girl ever, and he never liked a girl this much before, and for you, he's the cutest guy! he's just so sweet and always made you laugh so much.

and by the eyes of everyone around you, you two were the cutest couple! just by knowing eachother so well for so long and having so much charisma together. it was a joy to see how much you love and the good you do to each other. his family loved having you around in the holidays, and yours always welcomed him so well on the weekends.

but suddenly, nothing you do is enough anymore. you can't even tell the moment you started to try and prove yourself to the others. and you know, if he wanted, there would be thousands of girls by his feet, waiting the right moment of your fall.

in the stadiums, the hysterical girls screaming his name to get his attention wouldn't even bat an eye at you, completely ignoring your presence; pushing you to the side to crowd him and ask for a photo, or for him to sign their shirts.

you let slide. maybe this time they didn't see you. right? it happenes!

then, his fans cut you out of the photo he posted, but kepts his non-player friends in it. its okay, right? it's a fan page for him and not for you anyways.

but when when you post a picture, they did the same things. obviously cropping your whole body out of the picture. the picture you liked so much because it's you, walking hand in hand, with your boyfriend by the beach of the aphrodisiac island you were visiting with his family.

you let slide the comments on your body.

“she deff gained a lot of weight 🤣”

⠀⠀⠀→ “is she pregnant???”

“why your body look like that lool”

“héctor deserves better smh”

⠀⠀⠀→ “he so doeeess!”

what does this have to do with the photo? it was just a sweet picture of you and your boyfriend sat side by side in a nice restaurant, the photo was taken by his parents, who sat parallel to you.

and everything suddenly became too much.

why did they hate you so much? was because they wanted to get to héctor? was something personal? what did you do besides being his long term girlfriend? were they mad that you're not a plastic, fake-blonde, face sculptured ig model who was with him just for his fame?

you were so much better than them and their fake white teeth.

héctor always complimented your natural beauty so much, he even gets mad seeing you compare yourself with these full edited ig models. you have such a natural aura, your little crooked smile, your natural light freckles, the little moles caused by the sun, your natural blush.

sometimes he would think you're the one that is too much for him. he loved you so very much, but was just as scared of loosing you to a better player. but you never thought that way, because he was the one for you.

since you were 15, he was the one. since you were 6 years old holding a little flower he picked up for you. since you were 12 crying because nobody but him showed up for your birthday party. he was the one to be always there.

and why now being with him was so hard since loving him is so easy.

you didn't even noticed when you started crying in the shower. the water running along with the tears, a mix of your sobs along with the water running. you just ducked your head under the shower, letting it clean away your sadness.

you came out of the shower just as sad as you came in, but what could you do? the evening was silent as you wondered around the house by yourself, héctor still training. you only put on your comfiest pajamas and layed down on your empty king bed.

“i'm home!” your boyfriend announced, only to find a dark living room. he was so used to have you on his arms as soon as he stepped back home. he took his shoes off, wondering if maybe you were in the kitchen; but nothing. just as dark and empty as the sofa.

“y/n? hermosa?” he enters the shared bedroom, eyebrows immediately frowning as he found you crying your heart out on the bed. your eyes were puffy and your nose a dark pink color, signaling that you've been crying for a good while now, “hey, it’s me, it's fine” he pulls you in a tight hug.

you could only burry your face in his chest, smelling his fragrance as you tried to control your breath, sighing repeatly, trying to catch your breath. “qué pasó? why are you crying?” he cups your face to have a better look at you. (what happened?)

your puffy eyes and cheeks, tears never stopping to roll down your face and your nose pretty pink; he could almost find you cute. you tried to explain why you're so sad but couldn't even stop crying, chocking on your own tears as they fell uncontrollably, “shh, breathe first!” he runs his hands up and down your back.

“why do they hate me so much?” is all you can verbalize before hiding your face on his chest once again, letting yourself cry out loud, “who’s 'they', princesa?” he reaches to grab your phone as it sat unlocked next to your pillow.

he almosts cry along with you. if his fans really loved him, why would they attack the person he loved the most? they had no reason to call you all this names, you were his princess, his little girl, not any of these bad words on your comment section.

he pulls away your body from his, fixing a loose strand of hair that sat on your face, putting it behind your ear. one of his hand find your cheek, caressing it so softly with his thumb. why do they hate you so much? he was so full of love for you, why would anyone hate on you?

“i’m with you, y/n. i’m with you because i love you so much and i chose you! i choose everyday since i was fifteen years old, and i didn't stopped loving you a day ever since!” he kisses your forehead, hand creeping to the back of your head, caressing your neck through your hair.

“don’t cry, okay? i hate it when you cry” his words make you realize how luck you are.

after all, you're the one he comes home to, you're the one he brought a ring you can only buy once in your life, you're the one he's waiting to marry since he was a kid.

“i even brought flowers and your favorites snacks to celebrate our anniversary.. but i don't know if you're hungry” he sounds so calm, but you can't help but blame youself for forgetting such an important day, “no preparé nada... lo siento” you wipe away your last few tears. (i didn't prepared anything.. sorry)

“i don't mind it, i just want to be with you” he pulls you for a sweet kiss. no fight for dominance nor lust, just love and caring. just the longing he felt the whole day, thinking about you every second, wanting to be home as soon as possible, just to be with you.

“i can make you cry more later.. happy tears" he gives you a smirk.

“héctor!” you laugh as you slap his chest.

he's right here, with you.

check out my masterlist .ᐟ

i have such a annoying migraine rn, but ill try to write some more requests!! 🥹

i will be re-opening the requests soon!! bye bye, hope u like it 💋

#hector fort #hector fort x reader #hector fort x y/n #hector fort x you #boyfriend headcanons #barcelona boys #barcelona x reader #fc barcelona #héctor fort #héctor fort x reader #héctor fort x you #light angst #angst with a happy ending #requests

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gay-dorito-dust · 16 hours ago

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Any chance Johnny Storm x reader? Johnny gifted the reader a puppy, please?

The golden furred pup within Johnny’s arms was restless as he made it towards your shared room, where he knew you were taking a power nap, as a smile rose on his lips when he looked down at the energetic golden retriever he had gotten for you.

‘I’m excited too little bud but could you maybe not nip my fingers?’ He says and the puppy stops nibbling on his fingers for a moment, it’s head tilted to the side, as though contemplating before continuing to nibble on his fingers. Johnny couldn’t help but laugh at this and press a kiss to the top of the puppy’s head, right between the puppy’s floppy ears, knowing damn well he could exactly stay mad at the little guy for expressing his emotions the only way it knows how.

Johnny also knew that if he couldn’t stay mad at the dog for long, neither would you as you would probably spoil the dog rotten, even letting it get away with stealing food from your plate if it were to ever give you the puppy eyes. All these thoughts of future events with you, him and your newest addition to the family came to the forefront of his mind in a flurry, and it only made Johnny all the more eager to burst open the door and show you the puppy; however he also had to remember that you weren’t exactly fond of being woken up from your nap, as he had quickly learnt from the past couple of times where he did unceremoniously awoken you without a good reason.

Reed, Sue and Ben had asked Johnny what was the reasoning behind getting a puppy when he was barely there half the time to take care of it due to the missions they’ve been going on recently.Johnny’s response to this by saying that the puppy wasn’t for him but for you, a companion for you when he was away as he knew how you hated being alone, and he hated that you felt like that so he had decided weeks ago that he’d get you a puppy; and get you a puppy he did though he didn’t dare name it as he though that right would be reserved for you.

It took a while for him to actually get the golden retriever, but it was all worth it the moment Johnny laid eyes on the little guy and knew that you’d love the shit of out him just as much as he would.

‘My partner is on the other side of this door fast asleep, do you think you could spare me the hellfire by being all cute and licking their face?’ Johnny then asks the pup in his arms, who looked up at him and let out a soft bark as an answer with a tail that was wagging faster than Johnny’s eyes could see with excitement.

‘Good because you’re on little guy.’ He then tells the golden retriever as he opens the door to his room slowly and lets the dog from his grasp, watching as the little guy makes his way towards you on the bed, managing to climb up the bed covers and towards you where it began licking your face. It didn’t take long for you to wake up once the dog began to lick you, especially when it’s hot breath fanned your face to bring you into the land of the conscious, only to see into the deep brown eyes of perhaps the cutest golden retriever puppy you had ever seen.

‘A puppy?’ You said groggily as you sat up with the golden pup eagerly clambering on your lap, steadying it’s front paws on your chest so it could continue licking your face as it’s tail wags itself into a blur. ‘Well ain’t you a handsome lad, where did you come from cutie because you couldn’t have just come from my dreams now did you?’ You gently cooed as you scratched him between his ears, smiling when you watched it lean into your touch and start licking at your hand and fingers as it got to know your scent.

‘That would be me.’ Johnny said from the doorway he was leaning on with a smirk.

You huffed. ‘You sent in a puppy to wake me because you were too much of a coward to wake me yourself I see?’ You joked as your boyfriend joined you and the puppy on the bed.

‘I think we both remember things differently here sweetheart, I don’t wake you up anymore because you try to kill me, not because I’m cowardly and have to have a dog do it for me or as you like to claim.’ Johnny replies as he leaned over to kiss your forehead. ‘But it’s nice to see you’ve finally decided to join us from your little nap, even if it was to the cute dog I had gotten for you slobbering all over you.’

Your eyes widened upon hearing this as you cradled the pup in your arms where it would wriggle restlessly, only to stop to instead start to nibble at your fingers playfully, not that you minded anyway. ‘You got me this bundle of fluff?’

‘Yep.’

‘Why?’ You asked.

Johnny shrugs. ‘I’m on missions most of the time and I remember that you don’t like being lonely, so I got you this little guy,’ Johnny stops to boop the puppy in your arms on the nose, ‘so that you wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore and try to wait up for me when you shouldn’t have to.’ He adds with a look that was knowing about the fact you would stay up later then normal just to see him home safely, something he had told you not to do but something you frequently ignore because you miss him deeply.

‘Oh Johnny he’s beautiful and adorable, I love him.’ You say as you kiss the puppy several times across its muzzle and top of its head, giggling when it tries to reciprocate your kisses with licks of its tongue, before letting it on the bed so it could get use to its new home while you and Johnny talked. ‘More than me?’ Johnny then pouts and gives you his best impression of puppy eyes which only proved in making you laugh and holding his face between your hands as you rest your forehead again his.

‘Already jealous of the puppy are you Johnny?’ You teased as you caressed his cheeks with your thumbs as a smile grew across your face at how sweet and thoughtful your boyfriend could be, always thinking about you and your feelings over his one sometimes, and you couldn’t help but wish others saw Johnny the way you did but at the same time you were glad that you were the only one that got to see this version of him.

‘Never because I know that I’ll always be number one in your heart forever and always.’ He said with full confidence that it was enough to earn him a kiss on the cheek as you pulled him into your arms, positioning yourself in a way where you could both watch the curious puppy together as it chewed on your shoelaces.

‘I don’t know Johnny,’ you drew out as you rested your head atop of his one that was resting against your chest, ‘the puppy is a lot cuter than you so you might have some competition here.’ You joked as you felt Johnny cling onto you and groaning, but you knew he was smiling, you could feel it and see as the crowd feet near his eyes made an appearance.

‘Oh dear whatever will I do to.’ He playfully whines. ‘Tell me what I can do to stay number one in your heart sweetness.’

You smiled as you kiss the top of his blonde head and whispered. ‘Stay here with me and our little floppy eared son who’s tearing apart my shoe right now.’ Johnny leaned further into you, his smile growing wider as he felt his body relax in a way it only did within your presence and closed his eyes.

‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else sweetness.’

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