#I had to get this out before I got to requests. they'll come after the second part

[ttngummybear]

The next time I go to try and ask for tech support from the revanced team, someone PLEASE just slap me so I don't do it.

[kkusuka]

more roommate simon!

i love the idea that simon thinks he's super open and available with his emotions and reader thinking he's really cold and disinterested. is he ooc? yeah. do i care? no. if you want cannon ghost, play the game!

simon riley doesn't know when you became so important to him.

the only reason he even put out the ad for a roommate was because his landlord though he'd moved out while he was away and he'd rather have some bird in his place than deal with that again.

you were just so easy; showing up to the coffee shop (where you requested to have your first meeting just in case he was some crazy murderer) face flushed, strands of hair all over the place, and sweater a mess; rushing to explain how you got sprayed by a sprinkler on your walk over then chased by a dog. and just as you repeat sorry for the 30th time simon thinks he's in love. you're officially his roommate 30 minutes later.

but it's so out of character for him. he hasn't been around anything other than hard ass military men since he was a teenager. fuck, he's killed hundreds of men in his line of work, tortured thousands more. (he doesn't like to think that that's why he's so drawn to you. that you're so different from who he has to be, someone he's been for so long, that being around you lets him breathe. that he feels like he can actually sit and enjoy his moments away from the field in your tiny manchester apartment.)

he thinks it actually started with the decorations.

the small trinkets you let around the common spaces when he was away. it starts with your room obviously; fairy lights above your bed that spills light into the hallway when he comes home in the early morning hours, paintings on the wall that eventually flow over into the living room, the small plants in your window sill that you ask him to water one day after you leave for work.

then the dinner table suddenly has checkerboard placemats and a vase of flowers that change with the season. and his run-down couch has decorative pillows and a throw blanket (both words he learned from you when he questions what the fuck is on his couch). then the bathroom in the hallway gets a new soap stand, and a mat is placed at your front door, next to the shoe organizer and coat rack.

so he starts buying things too; the penguin plushie in the supermarket window, the vase that matches the curtains in the living room, and a small skull magnet to rest on the face of your fridge.

and before simon knows it his dreary, cold apartment actually looks lived in. and instead of coming home to a dark hallway and an empty fridge, your flower lamp is on, some random show from the 90s is playing, and there's food on the table.

he gets to know you more than he thought he would; he knows what foods you don't like, the books you're reading and the ones you refuse to read again, and even that dick from work he promises to take care of if he bothers you again (it's evident that you think it's a joke and not something that he would genuinely do but simon doesn't think he's ever been more serious).

but he never lets you know too much about him, you don't need to know about it and the less you find out the better.

then came dinners, actual dinner not just him showing up while you already had food ready. you would ask if he wanted whatever you had made ( 'i'm already making food and i normally don't eat is all anyway, so i might as well share' ). so suddenly he was spending his nights at your table with a homecooked meal and simon doesn't think he could ever let this go.

then he gets sent away again, for way longer this time. he makes sure to update his paperwork, changes his emergency contact, your name swirled onto the spouse line. you were probably as close as he'll ever get to one and if you're there they'll tell you if anything happens to him faster. he doesn't want to think of how nice your first name looks with his last name. and you'll probably never even know, simon's never gotten that injured before and he doesn't plan on it now.

months in the heat of the middle east return him to hard shell of a man he was. coming home caked in dirt, blood speckled on his clothes; he doesn't want you to see him like this, he doesn't want you to know this version of him. and for the first time he regrets letting you come into his life.

you are home when he gets back, 2:30 in the morning and every light is off, he opens your door to make sure. you're asleep, not shocking, cuddled into the giant octopus you won at an arcade. he tries not to move, he just wants to look at you for a little bit.

he wakes up the next morning to breakfast and a new pair of combat boots. he's only home for a week this time, not that he's ever home for longer than a month, and he tries to soak up all of your time. you complain about your car, he's on it. the heater started being testy, that's fine he'll take care of it. he's going grocery shopping with you, he watching that weird hospital show, and he enjoys his time in domestic bliss before getting thrown back into some random country.

somehow that all led him here. laying in a hospital bed with two bullets lodged in his shoulder with you sitting in some shitty chair pulled as close to the bed as you could.

"so uh, i'm mrs. riley now?"

"yeah, ya are. 'av been for a while."

[gyaruhana]

please do one where Thanos starts off as your unlikely ally in the games, protecting you from danger and helping you survive. Over time, his protectiveness becomes obsessive, and he begins eliminating anyone he sees as a threat to keeping you by his side even as you start to notice his unsettling behavior you can’t escape his grasp🙏

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - yandere bf

Synopsis: In an attempt to escape from Thanos, you join a game promising money that will help you escape him. Unfortunately, he also seemed to have joined the game.

A/N: I may have combined this with two other requests bc they were all so similar so.. i hope thats okay !!

Warning: yandere thanos, choking

If you had told your younger self you’d be in a game of death with 45.6 billion won up for grabs, you wouldn’t believe it. And yet, it’s true. After the tragedy that was Red Light, Green Light where many people met a rather unfortunate fate, you realized it’d be in your best interest to find someone you can trust and form an alliance with them.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Thanos, happened to also be a part of the games and had been watching you from a distance since he spotted you in the first game. You had originally wanted to get away from him because he was nothing but toxic though now it seems Thanos was one step ahead of you. That, or you just had terrible luck and Thanos decided to come here on his own accord. 

You didn't have time to think about it though because he suddenly got up and left his little group behind to make his way straight to you. He didn't seem happy at all. Perhaps it was because the last conversation you two had was an argument that was left off on a bad note. 

“Where have you been? Were you avoiding me? That makes me really fucking mad, you know,” he says as he grabs your wrist so you can't just walk away from him. Not like there was anywhere to go now. You were stuck with him here. 

“I was just taking some time for myself,” you respond defensively. You really just wanted to get away from him which is why you were here in the first place. Your original plan was to win some money and then disappear so you'd never have to deal with Thanos and his crazy behavior again. It was suffocating to be near him.

“Time for yourself? Don't fucking lie to me,” he says as he brings you closer to him. Nothing about him was gentle. Not his touches, or his kisses, or anything. “Well, you've had your time. You're not leaving my side now,” he continues as he looks down at you with a glare. He wasn't leaving any room for you to defy him. In his eyes, you belonged to him. You were his property and that meant you couldn't go rogue and do what you want. 

“You don't get a say in that,” you say as you lean back slightly to try to create some distance between the two of you. He lets out a bitter laugh before grabbing the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair, and forcing you closer. “Yes, I do. In case you forgot, you're stuck in a death game with me. Do you really think anyone else will help you? Nobody else here gives a fuck about you. The moment they get the chance, they'll let a bullet go through your head,” he says as he looks down at you with a slightly crazed look. 

You'd like to make a counter point but he’s not exactly wrong. A lot of the people here didn't seem to be trustworthy. Not like Thanos was any better but he probably wouldn't purposely kill you if you didn't piss him off, right? As much as you didn't want to, you realized you didn't have much choice. Unless you want to make an enemy right after the first game, Thanos was your only hope of surviving the rest of the games.

“That's better. Just keep your pretty lips shut and let me do the talking,” Thanos spoke with a slight smirk. You didn't respond to that knowing that you'd likely make some sarcastic quip that would piss him off if you did. You didn't have a choice this time. You couldn't run away to another country. You had to give in just this once.

You'd soon come to regret that decision. 

Somehow, Thanos had only gotten worse. He was always right next to you, no matter what. Either his hand would be over your shoulder or he'd have a tight grip on your waist. When it was lights out, he'd force you to sleep in the same bed as him. He'd kiss you all the time too but it was always rough with teeth clashing against each other and his tongue shoved down your throat.

You didn't notice it got worse until it was far too late. 

The moment of realization was during the third game. The game was called ‘mingle’ and it was simple enough. A number would be called out and you'd have 30 seconds to form a group of that number before getting inside one of the fifty rooms. 

Everyone stood on a circular platform in the center of the room and, per usual, Thanos had his arm over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he spoke to his other stupid friend. The platform began to spin slowly as a childish song played. When the platform came to a sudden stop and a number was called out you formed a group and ran into a room. 

It was all going fine as you planned strategic moves and managed to keep on surviving. At least, it was going well. Until the last round when the number 2 was called. 

Thanos had immediately taken your wrist and dragged you towards a room, leaving behind his idiot friend without a second thought. However, the room was quickly stolen by two other players. You thought Thanos would just go to the next room over but that was not what happened.

Instead he pushed open the door and immediately grabbed one of the guys by their hair. He didn't think twice before he forced him out of the room. The other guy made an attempt to help but Thanos slammed him against the wall, his hand going around his throat as he choked him. The look in his eyes was far more scary than you remember. You could hardly process what was happening before the guy was punched in the face and pushed out of the room. 

Thanos pulled you in just before the door closed and locked. The sound of gunshots rang out soon after as Thanos huffed in annoyance. He looked guilt free despite the fact he was very much responsible for the death of two people. Actually, now that you really thought about it, he had killed other people in the previous games too.

Fuck. You were beginning to regret your choice of becoming his ally. You'd have much rather found someone else who could protect you from him because he was clearly fucking crazy. Crazier than he used to be. You thought he was just a manipulative, toxic bastard. You didn't think he'd be truly capable of murder. 

“Fucking dickheads,” Thanos mumbles under his breath with annoyance before glancing at your face. The corner of his lips quirked up when he noticed your expression and he wandered in front of you. “What? Something wrong?” He spoke though he already knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You killed those people,” you said as you looked up at him with a combination of fear and disbelief. He laughed in response before reaching a hand up and grabbing your face. “For you, baby. I fucking killed them for you,” he said as he looked down at you with a smirk. He found your expression such a turn-on really. The idea you were afraid of him meant you'd submit to him and that's all he wanted.

“You're fucking crazy.. crazier than I thought,” you spoke as you tried to step back and create some distance between the two of you. In response, he slammed you against the wall and got very close to you. 

“You're only just realizing this? You don't realize when I snapped the ankle of that bastard who looked at you so he'd lose? You didn't realize when our ‘friend’ and I returned but he had a bleeding nose?” He spoke as he got into your face with a dangerous grin. Well, when he said it like that, it became abundantly clear he had been killing and hurting people left and right since day one and all for you. You just had been too caught up in his behavior towards you that you didn't notice how he acted with others.

“Mm. Fuck, I love that look on your face. You're so afraid. Good. Because you're going to learn that you're mine forever, yeah?” He spoke as he brought a hand to your throat and squeezed it tightly. He let out a laugh as he choked you like it was the funniest thing in the world before slamming his lips to yours in a rough kiss. 

It was then you realized that, no matter how hard you tried to escape, you were his now - you always have been - and you will never taste freedom on your tongue again.

[bunni-v1]

HIHI! Before I make my request, I just wanna say that I absolutely ADORE the way you write the crk characters! The posts you have about Shadow Milk are scarily accurate. On another note, I really enjoyed the Burning Spice x reader hcs, and for my request, could you maybe do some Burning Spice NSFW hcs?🤧🙏 I haven't seen many people do requests for him, so I figured I'd step up and ask!

Burning Spice NSFW Headcannons

🍓Girl, I gotta clear out my askbox AGAIN. I clean it out and then y'all come back with a vengeance. Anyway, you were the first person to rq this, so congrats, you get the special answered ask! Yay! Anyway, Burning Spice is SUCH a challenge for me because we have virtually no content of the guy. This is 90% guesswork on my behalf, so please give me grace lol. Sorry if these are short and kinda bad, my motivation is low rn lol

Tw: NSFW; Rough Sex; Marking (like, bruising and biting); blood mention; predator/prey dynamic mentioned

Info: Burning Spice Cookie x Reader; NSFW

-Burning Spice Cookie is surprisingly lax about sex. It's not something that interests him too much, because once you've done it so many ways, you cannot do much more spicing it up.

-Pre-corruption he had sex semi-frequently with various different partners over a long period of time, but the closer he got to corruption the more... boring sex became. There wasn't much appeal other than dominating his partner, and even then, once he did that it was kind of nothing.

-He's experienced and he's very good at what he does, but he doesn't really care to initiate in most cases. Despite what most might think of him, he values the time he spends with you. Sex seems like it would be a waste of it, so he just doesn't bother with it.

-Unless, of course, you seem to be into the idea. Then his tune changes. Oh, his little warrior wants to try something different? Alright, sure, but he won't hold back on you. (He does, of course, because he can't have you crumbling on him.)

-Your first time with him is... interesting. He is, in all meanings of the word, considerate of you and your well-being the whole time. But, he's also doing everything in his power to see what makes you tick. How far can he push you this time before you need to tap out, how many orgasms can he get, how hard can he get your legs shaking?

-He likes to push you. A big part of his style of sexual intercourse is dominating. In most cases, he likes to go as hard as he can as fast as he can, but he has an inhuman tolerance when it comes to you. So he takes his time figuring out how to dominate you.

-He likes things that puzzle him, he likes having his mind challenged, he likes to have something for his mind to do. With sex, this is especially important. He gets off on the thrill of figuring you out, he wants to see the way you react to everything.

-He's big on predator/prey dynamics, like, really big on them. He likes to set you loose and give you a fixed amount of time to throw him off your trail. Run, hide, set traps, and he'll come after you like a wild animal starved for weeks. You always think you've got him, but he waits until you're comfortable to strike, and he takes you wherever he finds you - so hiding in public isn't a smart idea... or it is... depends on what you're into.

-Speaking of, he is a big proponent of public sex. Like I said in his initial headcannons, he loves to show you off. You both have a lot of pride in being the other's partner, so why not show it off in every way possible?

-Usually, this manifests as him having you bounce on him on his throne while loyal followers come and praise him. They'll be showering him with flowery words and begging for his acknowledgment, but his eyes are only on you. He soaks in your nervous expression, loving the way you shy away from the other cookie's eyes.

-It also can be more ritualistic. What I mean is that, he very well enjoys having people watch, so why not make a festival out of it. The two of you will be on a huge platform, surrounded by rich silk sheets and the eyes of his most loyal followers. They cheer the two of you on, shouting praises and exclamations of joy as you reach your climax.

-Do not think that this means he's in any way okay with sharing. He is not, it's a one-way ticket to get crumbled. If any cookie is foolish enough to even propose the idea they don't live to tell the tale. Look, enjoy, but don't touch.

-A lot of sex with him actually starts as sparring. You are very weak compared to him, so he rarely goes out of his way to spar with you, but he does. When he does, it always ends with you bent over and babbling his name like a mantra.

-He can't help it, the way you fight him with such a cute determined little expression really makes the cogs in his head turn. Flushed face, chest heaving, oh you look heavenly. Wouldn't you look nicer with him splitting you on his dick? Yes, he seems to think so.

-He likes it when you fight back against him, make him work for his own high. It's just what he wants. Kick and bite and punch and scratch as much as you can, he wants to see the marks you leave on him. He wears them with pride, just like you should his.

-And he does mark you up, very well. Your body is littered with bites from him, and you have several new bruises where he restrains you. The most prominent ones are on your thighs, the perfect outline of his fingers practically burned into your dough.

-You always bleed when he bites, his teeth are sharp, and he never cleans it up. He likes seeing the crimson jam dribble down your body. It's a beautiful sight, the very essence of you leaking out for him to see. When he's feeling particularly romantic, he'll smear it across his lips like makeup, and kiss along your body leaving a trail of blood-soaked kisses in his wake.

-Something else to mention, he very much likes to see the two of you connected. He enjoys watching himself sink into you, and he does it in silence. To him, it's beautiful to see your bodies meld together. Even more so, he likes to see evidence of himself in you.

-So, he always cums inside and he never uses protection. He likes to see his cum leak out of your abused little hole, he'll scoop it out of you after the fact with a scary reverence in his eyes. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, but he cleans you up well, so it's best to let it be.

-He also likes to feel himself while he's inside you. He'll press on your stomach so he can enjoy the way he fits more directly. If you squirm, it just makes it all the better for him. The pleasure is only heightened by your wiggling, so keep it up.

-Okay, we have to acknowledge his size. It's impossible not to do so with how big he is in the game - he is significantly larger than every cookie we've seen so far.

-His dick is large, like very large. It's more... normal... than Shadow Milk Cookie's, but it's not regular by any means. It's big, nearly eight inches long, and about five inches thick. It's the same color as his dough all the way up to the tip, which is a deep reddish-brown color.

-The tip is flat and wide, and it's the same thickness along the entire shaft. The first push-in is always the hardest, but as soon as you adjust, it's easy to take the whole thing... well... what you can fit at least.

-Oh, one last thing, his dick is ribbed. Several bumps line the shaft in a nice pattern, and it rubs you inside like a dream. He knows the effect it has on you too, and he uses it to get you to melt against him like butter.

-He's rough, and he goes rather hard and fast, but he can slow it down sometimes. It's rare, and it isn't something he thinks to do in most cases, but occasionally... just sometimes, you'll get a sweeter side to him.

-That doesn't mean it isn't intense, though. It is intense, even more so than his other style of sex. But it's for different reasons this time.

-Instead of fucking he is making love to you, which seems to be out of character, but I promise you it's not. He loves to show you his devotion to you, and a great way of doing that is through sex.

-If you are, for any reason, feeling insecure he uses sex as a means of expressing just how much you mean to him. Words can only do so much, gifts and mortal possessions are meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but this? The physical connection between the two of you? It's something more, something deeper than anything else he could give you.

-He holds you close, usually facing him on his lap, and slowly ravishes you. There is to fighting or bruising or biting like this, just raw passion that he has for you. Not an inch of your skin is without his burning touch, the heat between the two of you fogging your mind until you can no longer think.

-The pace he sets is slow and deep, each thrust and movement a deliberate show of his admiration for you. It's only then that you'll hear him praise you, words of affirmation spilling from his lips like warm honey, encouraging you to keep going for him.

-What is the most intense, what gets you shaking, is the way he looks at you. His eyes are unblinking and affixed to your face with nothing but sheer devotion and love. He doesn't let you shy away either, you need to look at him, to see how much he adores you. Only once you are jelly against him will he be satisfied that he has done his part.

[kirislovelygf]

self-care night (sevika x fem! reader)

contents: after the battle and after losing jinx and isha, you take it upon yourself to take care of sevika, giving her a much needed quiet night. total fluff, you and sevika are married, post seaosn 2 finale, sevika is finally taken care of like she deserves <3

wrd count: 1.6k

a few mornings ago, sevika had her first day on the job as a councilwoman. 

caitlyn gave up her seat on the council to give sevika the opportunity to speak up for zaun. 

she came home that evening angry as anything. the other councilpeople acted like she didn't even exist. 

and when she was able to speak up, her requests went in one ear and out the other. 

when she received the opportunity to have a seat on the council, we were thrilled. but after that day, she's been trying hard not to blow up on everyone and confirm their suspicions of what would happen with a zaunite on the council. 

tonight, i made her a warm and filling meal and set up the bathroom with candles and pleasant soaps so she can take a relaxing bath. 

i was sitting on the couch reading a book when she came home. 

she closes the door and looks up at me. "hi." she mutters. 

"hey. another long day?" i ask her gently. 

"tch.. you tell me." she joked. she sat down at the kitchen table that was just beside the front door to yank her boots off her feet. 

i close my book and placed it aside before walking over to her. as she struggled to untie the laces of her boots, i cupped her face so she could look up at me. 

"sorry, honey." i muttered before i kissed her. "at least you get the weekend off." i said as i looked at her face. she smiled gently before i crouched to untie the laces of her boots. 

"hey, i was doing that." she chuckled as i threw them on the doormat. "i'm not helpless." 

"just let me take care of you." i smiled. i look at her once more. "why don't you wash up for dinner. i was able to make your favorite tonight." i said to her as i stepped away to check on the food on the stove. 

i hear her come up beside me and take a look at the food that's simmering. 

"damn.. all this for just us?" she said. 

"yeah. i know you skipped out on lunch, so you must be starving." i said as i stirred the meat on the saucepan. 

"how'd you know i skipped lunch?" she asks me. i looked up at her. "i always do. now, go. wash your hands." she laughs softly before washing her hands in the sink. 

i quickly plate everything for her and place ehr food at the table just as she sits down. once i set everything down, i went to plate my own food. 

i turned to go sit down and i saw she hadn't touched anything in front of her. didn’t even move to pick up her fork. "what are you waiting for? eat." i chuckled. 

"i'm waiting for you, dummy." she chuckled, picking up her fork. i smiled at her as i settled into my seat. 

dinner was quiet but nice. i left music playing on the radio as i watched her enjoy her meal like she hasn't had one in forever. 

"this is.. amazing, honey. shit, i was starving." she said after slamming her cup of water down. i chuckled lightly. 

"i can tell." she smiles softly at me. after she got some food in her system, she talked to me about her stressful day as she waited for me to finish my meal. 

"they don't know.. anything about what life is like down here. hell, half of them think we've grown up in sewer pipes." she said quickly. 

"they cannot be serious." i shook my head lightly. "you would think they're stupid at first glance." she jokes. 

"maybe once they have someone with common sense on the council, they'll make better decisions." 

"yeah.. it's gonna take a while though." she hums. i watch her soft expression that is rarely ever seen. i love my wife. 

after washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen, i went nad ran the bath for her while she was occupied in our room, cleaning her mechanical arm. 

once i lit the last candle and turned off the lights, i went to our room to see her at her desk tinkering with the screws and nooks and crannies of her arm. 

"hey, vika?" i said softly. 

"hm?" she looks up at me from her device. "i ran you a bath. come on." i muttered

she smirks over her shoulder. "oh yeah?" 

"don't be gross. it's not like that." i chuckled. 

"oh.. damn.." she grumbled. "come on." i laugh. she follows me to the bathroom and i stand, leaning on the doorway

"you can stay there for however long you want. just relax, alright?" 

"whoa.." she gasped lightly at the acne in the bathroom. 

she looks down at me. "i- you didn't have to do all this." she hummed. 

i shrugged. "you're right. but i wanted to." 

she smiles. she wraps her arm around me while i do the same with both of mine. 

"i don't deserve you. seriously." she hummed after planting a kiss on my head. 

"yeah, you do." i said softly. 

i sat in our room while sevika took her bath. as i was flipping through the pages of my book, i remembered i had gone out and bought a scrub. at a shop up on topside, so it's bound to be good. 

i found it and went to the bathroom to give it to her. i knocked before walking into the dimly lit bathroom. she was sitting in the bath with her hair guarding her eyes from being seen at the side. 

"i bought this scrub today and thought you might like it." i said softly. “you did? why?” 

i sat on my knees as i unscrewed the top of the bottle. “it reminded me of you. here, smell." i said to her. 

i held it up to her nose and she took a quick whiff before humming. "it's nice.. like pine." she said. 

she went to grab it but i pulled it away. "let me." i said. 

"come on, honey. i can clean myself just fine." she chuckled softly. "no one's saying you can't. i just wanna do it for you." 

i look at her eyes before moving her strands aside. "you can't get your back anyway." i said. 

she rolled her eyes. "alright.." she hummed. i got up to find a stool and sat on it as i took a seat beside the tub, sitting behind her. 

the smell of snowy pine trees quickly invaded our noses as i massaged the scrub into her scarred back. 

looking at her muscles and scars, i imagined what it must be like to be her. to experience her life. 

her mother died at birth, father died even later. no siblings to mourn with her.

a best friend turned boss. now dead also.  

two young girls that were like her daughters, dead too. 

i feel like if i followed that same fate, she would end up offing herself. 

so much loss in her life. and she still stood strong every day without fail. 

"why are you doing all this?" she spoke up quietly. 

"hm?" i said as i rinsed off the soap crystals. 

"the dinner... the bath, everything you did tonight." she said. 

"i'm your wife, vika. it's what i enjoy doing." i said softly. 

there was a beat of silence. 

"it feels strange being taken care of like this. " she admitted. 

i poured water over her back again, watching the tiny crystals fall into the water. 

“i know..” i said softly. 

she shifts in the water, bringing her knees up to her chest. 

"sevika, you've devoted your entire life to bringing justice to our people. i've watched you take care of others, put their lives over your own.." i said, glancing over at her scarred stub that used to carry her left arm. 

i gently massaged the scrub over it, letting the scent sink into her skin. 

"it's like that's all you know how to do." i hummed. 

"after a while, you forget how to do anything else." she said quietly. 

"that's why i want to take care of you. while you learn how to pick yourself up again." i said, pouring water over her shoulder.

i’ve reminded her of this since we first got married. while she tells me she believes me, sometimes it slips. 

“you know, people look at you and see a terrifying old woman who can kill them with just a look.. and you are.” i said, to which she laughed softly. 

“but when i look in your eyes. when you hug me in the night when we’re sleeping, all i see is a sweet girl who’s in need of love. and i want to give it to her.”

“so, while you're out there looking after the lanes… i’ll be here at the end of every day to take care of you.” i said. 

i rinse off the last of the soap from her shoulders and leaned back slightly. 

“okay?” 

she’s quiet for a second but turns her head slightly. “yeah.. okay.” she hums. 

i moved from my seat and sat next to her. i reached out to her chin and turned her head slightly to kiss her cheek. “i love you, you old softie.” i muttered. 

she looks at me with tears welling up in her eyes. 

“i love you. so much.” she said quietly. 

i held her face in my palm as i scanned her face before i kissed her lips. i pull away from her and smile softly. “you finish up here, alright?” 

i left her in the bathroom and waited for her in our bed. 

it was slightly cold, i just put on the freshly washed sheets, a new fuzzy blanket, and lit a candle that made the room smell like sugar cookies. 

she was dead asleep in seconds. 

a/n: i need to put sevika in my pocket, i love her and she deserves the world.

[clarkeybabey]

Hi! This is my first time requesting anything so I hope I'm doing this right, was wondering if u could do some george hcs of being his gf while he plays in the charity match? Thank you xx

thank you so much for the request!! I hope you enjoy:)))), a bit suggestive at the end..... more coming soon;)

poor baby is so nervous in the weeks leading up to it

"i would've rather them ask me the day of." "you wouldn't have been prepared." "I genuinely couldn't care less about preparation; the suspense is killing me."

He's dialled in every second, whether that be the sidemen Instagram or the whatsapp group chat

"you do know they've already announced you, right?" "yes, darling, but what if they change their mind or something???"

and you better believe when the fellas streamed discussing the lineup, he had it, volume blasting, on your bedroom tv, knee bouncing.

"you're going to be riding that bench mate," "shut the fuck up, Christopher."

chris and arthur give him so much shit for how he's acting

"arthur, you weren't even invited. you're not a part of this!!!" "Bit harsh, mate, no?" "They're scared they'll hurt your ever-so-fragile ego if they don't invite you back." "alrighty then..."

practically begs them and you despite your plans with the other wags to let you be there on training day.

"she'll be well behaved, simon, i promise." "i don't think I'm the one they're worried about..." "we'll bring the leash just in case," "STOP FORCING THE PET PLAY NARRATIVE, GEORGE CLARKE."

he has an eye on you the entire day, introduces you to everyone you haven't met yet, and makes sure you see all the defending he does or the goals he makes. Clearly in search of much-needed validation

"is this your missus, clarkey?" "oh yeah, ginge, this is [name], my wife." scoffing, you hold up your ringless hand, "that's news to me."

"did you see that, holy shit," he says in a pile of limbs on the grass, "I did, yes, but lets not kill ourselves before you've even touched the pitch."

all of a sudden, the morning of match day, he wakes you up dressed in his Sidemen FC zip-up, feeling scarily indifferent about being in front of millions, playing with some of the biggest social media stars.

he kisses your cheek before stepping out for team breakfast. "are you sure you're okay?" two nights prior he was quite anxious about the crowd or disappointing anyone, but now he's just chill.

"im fine, baby, excited but im not freaking out anymore," he shrugs toying with his vlog camera settings, "Well, I've got breakfast with liv and sab in a bit, text me okay?"

You receive a kiss on the corner of your mouth, followed by a salute, and he's off

Throughout the time before the match, you're shooting him endless messages of encouragement and well-wishes, he's quick with thank you's and assurances that he's okay, just footie with his mates, he insists

The crowd erupts with screams during their walkouts, you're aware of the amount of support your friends and boyfriend receive on the internet, but the energy in the stadium seemed to be something otherworldly.

He was benched for a bit, but when he was out there, he made his presence known. Anxiety and pride are the only things you find yourself feeling

especially the ladder when he scored his goal, despite his doubts that he'd be able to do so.

Once the celebrations calm down, one of the girls speaks up, "Someone's getting it tonight," with wagging brows. you don't answer, but the irrepressible smirk on your face says everything you refuse to.

Before you know it, it's over. The match goes into penalties for the first time ever, unfortunately, Sidemen FC loses because of one missed penalty.

There are no hard feelings as 4.7 million pounds and counting was raised and split among three charities. Unless Chris, Deji, and Danny's bragging rights are brought up

You find him in the showers after most everyone's left to change and freshen up for the afterparty. He's a sight with his towel hanging low on his hips, seemingly typing up a text; it takes a lot of restraint not to jump on him right there.

your phone chimes with his notification, he smiles when he finds your eyes, "Don't go getting any ideas, i don't think i'd like to be banned from Wembley." you scoff, jokingly offended, "how dare you assume I'm thinking inappropriately, just wanted to see my man,"

"told you id meet you in the lobby. you're very impatient," simple words, his pretty eyes, and a hand squeezing your hip have all words dying on your tongue

They quickly return when his wet hair soaks both your neck and top. "George," you gasp, doing your best to put space between the two of you, not really caring when you fail and are lifted up onto the communal sinks, "Now whos getting ideas?"

[lovverletters]

👉👈 yandere serial killer...??? Maybe?? Like just this big scary dude with a mask and a big fuck all weapon like a butcher's knife or something and hes so big and scary but he sees his darling as he's just head over heels in love and obssessed and stalks them and makes sure they are safe.

Maybe leaves gifts as a way to try and court his darling even (trial and error style)

So like he leaves maybe a dead animal like a fucking cat cause he's this kinda survival guy and he's trying to provide food but darling is freaked out, so he tries again with something else maybe bones. Doesn't work. Tries to figure out what they like and tries again with their favorite flower or something.

Like he's out of touch with society cause again big serial killer who likely lives out in the woods, kills people who get to close to his home etc so he's really trying to win over his darling who lives closer to the town/city or something.

Just.... I just love big scary man who is so scary and mean but is ONLY nice and soft to his darling and tries to be so gentle, especially if his darling is much smaller than him.

No pressure if you dont wanna do this! Just!!! Giving out some ideas!

♡♡♡

♡Bunny

Yandere! Serial Killer

A/N : thank you for requesting! I changed a few things if you don't mind💖 this is like an intro for him? I'll write more if people like this dude

T/W : Obsessive behaviour, murder, mentions of dead animal.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"─yet another body has been discovered near a park at Heartfelt Avenue this morning. The police were alerted to the scene after a man who was walking his dog stumbled upon the deceased body covered with deep cuts that were shaped into a heart. This marks the twelfth victim of the serial killer, 'Lovelorn' that has left communities in fear──"

The news forecaster were cutted off as [Name] switch the television off. Their stomach churned with uneasiness at the reports of the new killing. With the serial killer still on the loose, god knows who'll be next?

It could be them.

It's a terrifying thought but a probable possibility. All of the bodies were found near their place of living, meaning that the killer is not far from their area. Moving away is not a choice for them, they could barely make enough money to stay afloat.

[Name] will have to put up with the murderous maniac's antics until they were caught and placed behind bars.

"Shit── I forgot I have to cover for Stacey today!" They cursed out, hurriedly changing into their horrendous work uniform.

Working a late shift at a cafe wasn't exactly their choice. [Name] usually worked the day shift── stressful but far better than being all alone at night when there's a lunatic who's going around stabbing people. Their coworker Stacey had an emergency today and had practically begged [Name] to cover for her shift as no one would take up on it.

[Name] don't blame them, no one in their right mind would voluntarily throw themselves in a situation where they would ended up in a news headline.

However, adulting is hard and it drains your sanity slowly and [Name] already lost theirs a long time ago. Plus, they really need more money otherwise they'll have to live off cup noodles.

What ever could go wrong? The killer had just slain a person today, they couldn't possibly attempt to do it again could they?

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Everything went wrong.

It had been mind numbingly boring shift, the cafe were deserted at night with only a few people coming in and getting out as soon as they got their drinks.

[Name] were tempted to just sleep through their shift in the break room. Their boss won't care──probably.

"Can't something interesting happens right now? I'm bored out of my mind──" On cue, the lights suddenly begun flickering before shutting off.

Fuck. They're not bored anymore.

[Name] jolted in their place when the main door slammed to a close and their heart stopping momentarily as they saw a figure running towards the backdoor entrance.

They raced towards the exit──there's no way they're going to investigate it! They value their life more than this store they worked at──and try to pry the door open but discovered to their horror that it has been jammed!

Before they could attempt to break the glass door with a steel chair, they heard a noise from their former place behind the counter. [Name] eyes widened in fear at the sight of the figure they'd seen running earlier.

The man was muscular and had a red horned mask on, in his hand was a large butcher knife that serial killers loves wielding. Had their life not being in danger, [Name] would've laughed at how cliché this situation they're in.

"H─hey buddy, that's a nice looking knife you got there" [Name] says as they held onto the steel chair tighter, ready to wield it as a weapon if needed to.

The killer only stalked further in silence, ignoring [Name]'s remarks. He only stopped once they reached a good distance from each other and [Name] were confused, is he fucking with them?

Their confusion only furthers when the killer drops a fucking dead rabbit in front of them. Horrified beyond belief, [Name] looked at the horned masked man who stared at them as if he's waiting for a praise.

"Wh──wha..?" They could only croaked out timidly.

"It's for you" The killer spoke in his deep voice, elaborating no further.

Their eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he dropped a human heart next to the dead rabbit. [Name] felt their knees weakened as they fell on the ground, disturbed at the sight before them.

Mustering whatever courage they have left within them, they asked the killer that's towering over them.

"Wha──what are these f──for?" Stumbling over their words from how terrified they were.

The killer, holding a flower in his hand──they looked freshly cut from the stem──lowered to their level of ground and spoke in his gravely voice that's strangely laced with a certain gentleness and love.

"M' courting you cause' I love you"

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[unintentionalseductress]

Hi!!! If you're still taking requests, can you do a bodyguard headcanon for the LADS boys pls and thanks 🙏

After talking to @ballorawan740 a little more, an extra detail added for the request was that MC was hired as a bodyguard for a young girl by their family. So I made all the men single dads for this HC. IDK who had they this child with or how it happened, just go with it.

Hey Miss Bodyguard...

Zayne:

He's a rich, famous, doctor stretched thin. He hadn't expected being a single dad would be this challenging. Being the youngest person to win the Starcatcher award was no small feat after all.

His fear stems from his refusal to work with Ever. He's terrified that they'll take his daughter as leverage.

He holds interviews of course, because how else can he find the best person to keep his little girl safe? When you walk in, he feels a connection that was absent with the other candidates. You got along easily with his child, and it was obvious that you cared for her more than beyond seeing her as a paycheck.

He keeps things professional and beyond offering you a drop home at night or sometimes bringing takeout, he mostly keeps to himself, but he's drawn to the way you spend time with his daughter. He sees how happy she is around you, and he's confident in your abilities to keep her safe.

It's his daughter that points out he likes you. "Miss...I think my daddy like you!" she'll say matter-of-factly while she gets her shoes on for school. Zayne nearly chokes on his coffee, his ears turning red as you stifle a laugh behind your hands, ushering her out the door. Later that day, Zayne calls asking if it would be all right if he asked you to dinner. You accept of course, because how could anyone resist the stoic, handsome, doctor with the cute daughter?

Sylus:

Sylus has a never-ending list of reasons as to why he needed a bodyguard for his daughter. He was the leader of an organized crime group after all, and there were several people who would gladly claim his head on a platter.

He tried to entrust Luke and Kieran but after an almost near accident at a gun range he decided maybe they weren't the best choice.

His daughter is suspicious of you when Sylus hires you. You simply looked out of place in the N109 zone and part of her didn't feel like you were 'one of them'. She would constantly complain to Mephisto and insist uncle Luke and uncle Kieran weren't that bad, and that they were sorry about the gun range incident.

You finally gain her trust when you teach her how to shoot soda cans with your hunter's gun. She's impressed and says you're not a bad shot, the highest compliment she could think of.

She expresses her approval to her dad and says to him, "daddy, she can outshoot you. You should shoot guns together." Sylus who is tossing a salad for their meal glances at you thoughtfully just as you're about to walk out the door. "Is that so? Well, what does our bodyguard think?" You'll freeze for a minute and retort that you had to think about it and leave. Sylus smiles reassuringly at his daughter. "That's a yes."

Xavier:

Xavier decides to ask you to be his daughter's bodyguard after finding out there are traitors amongst the Backtrackers. Their anger at him for deciding to stay in this timeline with his daughter knew no bounds. He feared they would kidnap her and attempt to fly back to dying Philos. They'd never make it, he knew, given the condition of their spaceship. His bigger concern was them getting stuck in the deepspace tunnel with no way to find their coordinates.

Xavier's daughter has an easy relationship with you. She's seen you around the building before and you always have candy ready for her sweet tooth. If Xavier was too busy to give her attention, then down the elevator she came to knock on your door.

On multiple occasions Xavier has come down to retrieve his daughter from you, reminding her that it's not ok to visit when you were off duty. This upsets her and she looks at you teary-eyed and you insist that she's not a bother.

At this point his daughter bursts out loudly, "Daddy, I'm always either at our place or hers. Miss should just move in with you so that I don't have to come downstairs anymore!" Both you and Xavier laugh awkwardly, both of you blushing before bidding each other good night.

But after Xavier has put his daughter to bed, he considers the idea. It seemed practical, but he knew you'd never go for it. So instead he asks you if you'd be interested in joining him for hot pot one of these days.

Rafayel:

Rafayel somehow believes that because you are his bodyguard, it means you are his daughter's too. Even after you told him it would cost double since you're trying to protect two people he shrugs it off and asks Thomas to write you a check for more.

The young girl is similar to her dad and has an artistic flair, painting breathtaking landscapes and adorable little cartoons alike. She often watches you chastising her dad for not following rules and not being safe enough and senses there's more there.

She can't help but notice that some of her dad's portraits feature people with features similar to yours; the same nose, the shape of your eyes, or the fullness of your lips. When she points this out Rafayel shakes his head in denial.

Determined to be right, she pulls you into his studio where all the portraits are kept while he's out one day. You do see the resemblance but try to console the girl that artists can find inspiration from anywhere, and it might not be as simple as him having feelings for you. Of course, she pouts (so much like her dad!) and that's when Rafayel walks in.

You ask him to correct his daughter, that your relationship is strictly professional. Rafayel sighs dramatically, then says, "Yeah, it's professional. But only because I can't get her to change her mind." His daughter smirks in triumph and you leave the room blushing, wondering how you got tangled up with this family.

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura

[dduane]

Dear DD, I'm wondering if you could show examples (from your own work or otherwise) of what really, *really* rough drafts of fiction writing look like. I'm talking the earliest stages of the process that normally most people don't show to the public; whenever I look around online, what folks seem to post as "WIP" samples are usually more like 80-90% polished excerpts.

While my brain logically knows these are the late-stage stuff, it has an ill-advised habit of trying to draft to that 80-90 level of quality from the get-go--I think it might help to see what the equivalent of "thumbnails" or "sketches/doodles" look like in writing, especially from someone who's been At The Work for a long time. Hopefully it's an alright request! I understand if for various reasons you can't.

I'm more than willing to show people my stuff in process, every now and then. ...But in my case, your initial query poses an unusual challenge. And it's this:

After pushing fifty years of doing this work (or indeed, you had it right, this Work) for money, everything comes out looking fairly polished.

And this can't be helped. Once you've been doing this work for long enough—once doing it well starts being the thing responsible for keeping you and your family fed—you will inevitably (eventually) evolve the ability to exude smooth-looking prose at minutes' notice. Over the years your internal prose filters will get trained into being increasingly fine-meshed... and the longer this goes on, the more flatly they'll refuse to let clunky stuff out onto the page any more. You don't really even think about it. You just keep refining a given phrase/sentence/paragraph in your head until it feels acceptable.

After a couple/few decades, this ability becomes an ever more finely-honed survival characteristic. You can no sooner emit actively coarse prose (without trying purposefully to do so, which is another story...) than you can stop breathing for minutes at a time without suffering the consequences. (shrug) It's just the way your life experience has taught your Drafting Brain to conduct itself, going forward.

Now... this doesn't mean at all that the drafted material, be it ever so polished-looking, is necessarily what you intended (or needed!) to write. Oh no. I could this very day show you some prose that by my standards is still really rough, because I wrote it five minutes ago... and you'd look at it and be very unlikely to be able to see what my problem was with it.* Whereas I'm sitting staring at it and muttering "Dammit, something's missing here. No idea what. I'll come back to it tomorrow."

And indeed I wrote something about three hours ago that (as I got it onto the page in its earliest form) left me literally gasping about how obtuse I'd been about the situation and emotions described in it, as recently as early this afternoon before I had lunch. It was a scene that had been missing from something I'm completing at the moment—indeed not merely missing but completely uncontemplated—and as it spooled itself out on the page all I could do was shake my head at my own idiocy at having missed the opportunity earlier, while I was nailing down the plot.

And I would love to show you that piece of prose right this minute, so that you could see what minutes-old prose from me looks like. Except it's seriously spoilery, and I refuse to sabotage a larger work by allowing out any material that's so loaded... and which viewed out of context would deprive it of most of its power. So, as we say around here, 'Sorry not sorry.'" Though I promise I'll come back to this and talk about it "in the clear" later, when that work's published.

...Anyway. The best advice I have for you just now is that trying to make your filters-in-training less effective is—to put it as gently as Captain Amelia might—a mistake.

That urge to have the first draft—or the "zero draft" as some are calling it these days: I use this myself—be as good as possible is frankly a lifesaver. Indulging it, sentence by sentence and paragraph by paragraph, will only leave you with less frustration, less editing and re-editing, and way less Flat Forehead Syndrome over time. You are going in the right direction, even if it makes you feel like you're losing valuable time.

Your brain's attempts to draft to the highest possible level are not ill-advised. Indulge the urge to get your drafting more right, even if it makes you suffer a bit. No one ever said this writing lark was going to be all fun. (And if they did, they lied to you.) Also: hunting through other people's WIP excerpts, be they rougher than yours or more polished, in a search for something that your excerpts or drafting style should or could theoretically look like, will do you no good in the long term... and may do you harm. All you're likely to be left with, after you haven't found anything useful in the wake of the shoulder-peering, is a sense—almost certainly an inaccurate one—that you're somehow doing it wrong.**

You're not. You're finding your own way, at your own speed. This is the Writer's Journey. (As opposed to the Hero's, which I have characters shouting at me about at the moment.) (eyeroll) As you continue going your own way, your drafting will gradually pick up speed without losing quality. ...And don't neglect your outside reading. You need to be reading outside your own genre and your own century to pick up, as it were, new (or old) plugins for your filters.

Anyway. If (as it seems) you're in this for the long term: get right down here with the rest of us and suffer your way (briefly) through it. We all agonize unnecessarily over the effectiveness of our process from time to time. The only cure is to say "fuck that noise" to the back of your Writer's Mind, and get back to the actual writing, where these problems are worked out in the only way that counts.

So: go do your thing, and let the chips fall where they may. And I hope this has helped! Let me know, over time, how things go.

*This situation is also, BTW, a bit of a problem for a writer in a career stage like mine. In an inversion of the usual rule—where "the Perfect becomes the enemy of the (Merely) Good"—the "Really Not Bad At All" becomes the enemy of the "Could Have Been Way Better If You'd Given It A 'Should I Maybe Sweat Over This A Little More?' Pass". Because the Not Bad At All genuinely isn't... but if you're not careful, you stop seeing where to kick it into the next stage when you're distracted by all the other junk going on in life.

**...But this is one of the downsides of the community, and communality, of the writing life online. We wind up endlessly looking over each others' shoulders to try to find answers that—in many cases—were already sitting between us and the screen, on the keyboard.

(And now a suggestion for those who find these occasional excursions into the Advice Barrel useful: at various folks' request, I have a Ko-Fi now. If you find the advice useful and you feel so inclined, send me a sign.) :)

[impactedfates]

Hi I see that you open submission 👀 so, I want to put into your submission 3 character for dan heng, sunday and jing yuan (separate) with fem reader

The alphabet is : A,B, I, J, W (for all of them)

Hihi :3 Sorry for taking awhile, here's your request done <33 I hope it's good!

A - Affection (How they show they love you)

Staring, long and loving staring. There doesn't even need to be sound between you both, whether you're yapping away about things you love, telling him stories or you're also silent, maybe drawing or reading. He enjoys staring. At first he got embarrassed when you noticed, he let out a rare blush before turning away.

But now a days he continues, even if you do notice him. Even if your eyes meet and the two of you have an unintentional staring contest. He is more than content to continue. Even if no words are exchanged between the two of you, you know this is him silently telling you he loves you, silently telling himself how lucky he was to have you.

B - Blessing (Would they get your families blessing?)

I think so, maybe your family is a bit off due to his silent nature, but they give him a chance and they're so happy they did. Even if he is more on the quiet side, they see how well he treats you, how he holds onto the corners of the tables as you two walk by.

The grip he has around you if he sees someone try to flirt with you. I feel your parents are more than happy that you two are dating, and if you plan on marrying each other. They'll be so happy.

I - "I love you" (When's the first time they say this?)

Me thinks this was after a particularly long mission, you had just come back and quickly sought out your boyfriend, as soon as you entered you felt his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. You feel his tail join the hug, his breath hot against your neck as he nuzzles in.

"...I missed you"

He mumbled into you're neck, urging you to lay next to him in bed. He was so worried during the mission. As you lay down and make yourself more comfortable, ready for bed. You can't help but hear him utter out the words:

"I love you"

J - Jealousy (How jealous are they?)

I wouldn't think Dan Heng would be too too jealous. He knows you love him but he can get possessive at times, especially when others try and flirt with you, right in front of him no less. His arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you closer, trying to make it very clear you're taken.

If they persist, he'll be able to keep calm but he'll out right tell them you're taken. If they still do it? He isn't hesitant to take you somewhere else, as long as the other doesn't try anything, like try to hit you or aeon forbid hit you. He's pulling out that spear as soon as he sees them even try and grab you.

W - Wedding (Are they thinking of marriage? Are they ready for it?)

He's thought of it, and he'd love to finally put a ring on your finger, but he's not sure if he's truly ready. He feels there's too much of his past that still needs to be dealt with.

Still stuff in his past he'd rather not bring him down as he continues. There's also the fear of your own life. Assuming the fact you're not from the Xianzhou nor a Vidyadhara or in general. Just have a regular human life. He's scared of loosing you, sure it'll still be a long while before your day comes but knowing he'd outlive you so a thought he'd rather not think about. He's still debating it though, he just doesn't know what choice he'll finally make.

A - Affection (How they show they love you)

He likes doing things for you, at first it was a small means of apologising for his previous actions, this amplifies if you two were already in an established relationship before the Penacony events.

Then it became a habit, even after he's been told he didn't have too. He wanted to for you. He himself enjoyed seeing your face of gratitude as he placed a cup of tea or coffee next to you as you worked.

He loved seeing your excited face as he fixed perhaps a plushie you had ripped by accident. Loved hearing you laugh as he attempted to help you with your work despite not knowing anything.

B - Blessing (Would they get your families blessing?)

This all depends, pre-penacony story? Yes of course, especially if your parents were from Penacony. What do you mean you managed to make the Head of the Family fall for you? Not saying you couldn't but they would've never thought to see him at their door, asking for their blessing.

It's a bit more complicated after the Penacony events, especially again if your parents were from Penacony. They wouldn't know the full extent as to why he did what he did, not that it made things better of course but I feel hearing his explanation may make your family be a tiny bit more okay with him.

Though as it is, they need to get to know him much much better. You can ask them to be less overbearing about it and Sunday can apologise. But it'll be a bit harder to get your families blessing this time.

I - "I love you" (Whens the first time they say this?)

I'd like to think your his first I love you was infact when he confessed (or you, but he's still saying it)

Sure maybe people will think it's too fast but if he likes someone he wants to try and be direct. Even if the nerves in him are killing him slowly. He spokes softly, gently. As if you were glass that could be shattered if he spoke an octave higher.

He makes sure the confession is perfect, even if it'll hurt him if you reject him. It's set perhaps in a flower garden, all the flowers matching either your favourite colour, scent or in general. The flowers you like, he'll take your hand gently and recite the script he has written for this moment.

"Ah, perhaps I've talked for far too long but...I just want to let you know that I love you"

J - Jealousy (How jealous are they?)

A bit more jealous, he loves you. He's scared of loosing you, if he sees another person trying to flirt with you, he'll quickly cough, interrupting the conversation before looking away. If he was still the Head of the Family it would be a bit simpler, perhaps the man would quickly back off even without asking who you were to him.

But without his status, people don't truly care all too much. And he's not a fan of that. There are some who may recognize his previous status and back off, or know of what he did and still do. But when it comes to the ones who still flirt, Sunday is willing to let the other know that you're taken.

Holding your hand, kissing your cheek or kissing you on the lips, calling you pet names. All this in front of him. That or he may sulk a bit, don't worry. As long as you're there he'll feel better.

W - Wedding (Are they thinking of marriage? Are they ready for it?)

He wants to marry you, but for now he'll wait. He wants to wait for the best time and similar to Dan Heng, he feels there's too much in his past that he feels he needs to deal with first.

Yes you two are already dating, but marriage to him is such a big next step, he doesn't wish to burden you with it, even if you technically are and are willing to help, he feels marriage makes it much too more personal. Once he's ready and felt like his past isn't weighing him down as much anymore. He's ready to find that perfect ring for you to adorn your finger.

A - Affection (How they show they love you)

Tons of different ways or physical affection is his favourite. When he's tired, he'll come to wherever you are and lay on your chest or lap. Or even just beside you. You presence alone is enough to lull him to sleep.

He loves hugging you too, especially from behind, doesn't even matter if you happen to be taller than him, he'll still love his hugs from behind oh and he'd be swooning if you did the same. He's already heads over heels for you, don't give him another reason to be. As long as he has you by his side, he'll have his arms around you.

He loves you so deeply.

B - Blessing (Would they get your families blessing?)

Oh hell yes I think, what do you mean you're dating one of THE generals of the Loufu. Huh?? Did they miss a page??? Of course he has their blessing, maybe they're iffy and cautious encase the talks of him being a gentle and kind yet strict general are false and he's different behind closed doors.

But those thoughts die away quickly as he sees how in love with you he is. Still opening doors for you, pulling out chairs. All of it, and he truly is a kind general as he helps them as well. He is such a nice man, he gets that blessing rather quickly, probably one of the quickest out of all hsr characters.

Oh do get married soon, he's just perfect.

I - "I love you" (Whens the first time they say this?)

I see it as a random day, you two are looking at the stars, his head on your lap as he slowly flutters his eyes closed. He hears you laugh softly, thinking he's asleep.

He hears you lean down and place a kiss on his forehead then nose, mumbling out a soft and gentle:

"Sleep well"

Then and there is when he realised he wants to spend so much of his life with you. Then and there is when he opens his eyes slowly, reach a hand up to rub a finger against your check and say:

"I love you"

J - Jealousy (How jealous are they?)

I think he's rather chill around most people, even if they try to flirt...well, not many would dare try and flirt with one of the generals lovers. Especially with him around so he had no thoughts... had

The first time he saw someone flirting with you, especially after seeing you try and say you were taken, he's quickly ignore whatever he was planning on doing (or doing anyways) and walk over, gently leading your face to him and kissing you softly.

When he pulls away, he has a knowing smile on his face that he shows the other person who tried flirting. Needless to say, not many come back after trying to flirt with Jing Yuans partner.

W - Wedding (Are they thinking of marriage? Are they ready for it?)

Oh he wants too, he so so wants to. Before all of that though, he wonders how it'll be like for you if you ever await his return from a mission but don't return. How it'll be like if he ever outlived you, or worst yet get mara struck. Of course the whole outliving thing depends on your species but he's still scared of possibly loosing you due to your association with him.

Against all else though, he still wants to and probably will after a bit longer. To ensure your safety though, he may ask for you to have a bodyguard. That you help choose of course, you have to be comfortable.

One last Alphabet event left hehe. Hopefully I'll get it done at the end of this month or a week into the next. I hope you guys like this <33

[pukefactory]

Hello! Haha it's my first time in this blog and I love it so far! I love your hcs! I'm sorry if this is too specific of a request but Would you do one of Sprout X GN reader.

How would he react to a reader that used to be fun loving and silly become more Short tempered, and depressed when Garden view shut down? They've been isolating themselves out of fear they'll blow up at him.

If not any general hcs for him is also fine!

Hey, thank you so much for your kind words, Anon! I’m truly grateful that you and others enjoy my blog. Don’t worry—your request isn’t too specific at all, and I appreciate you providing such a clear prompt. I hope this meets your expectations!

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊ DEAD MALL ₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

✶ Summary: A compilation of headcanons featuring Sprout helping a melancholic reader

✶ Character(s): Sprout Seedly (Dandy’s World)

✶ Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Angst, SFW

✶ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✸ Sprout noticed the shift in your demeanor almost immediately. At first, he chalked it up to stress—after all, everyone was struggling with Gardenview’s shutdown in their own way. But as time passed, your usual playful energy remained absent, replaced by a lingering frustration that made you feel like a completely different person. It wasn’t just that you were quieter; you were angrier. It worried him more than he was willing to admit.

✸ He’s never been one for dancing around a problem, so when your mood didn’t improve, he confronted you about it directly. He didn’t mean to be pushy, but his concern overpowered any hesitation. “Something’s wrong,” he stated firmly, arms crossed as he stood in front of the opening to your room. “Talk to me.” Even when you tried to brush him off, he stood his ground, refusing to let you isolate yourself any longer.

✸ The first time you snapped at him, it caught him off guard. You hadn’t meant to, but the frustration had been building for so long that it slipped out before you could stop it. His expression faltered for just a second—just long enough for guilt to settle deep in your chest. But instead of arguing back, he exhaled sharply and took a step closer. “That’s not gonna scare me away,” he muttered, softer than usual.

✸ Sprout isn’t the best with words, but he is persistent. When you started isolating yourself, he made it his personal mission to check in every day—whether you liked it or not. If you wouldn’t come out of your room, he’d sit outside the door, chatting about whatever came to mind. “I tried a new pie recipe with Cosmo today. I think I messed up the crust, but he said it was still good. You would’ve liked it.” His voice was casual, but his meaning was clear: I miss you.

✸ He knew you were afraid of snapping at him again, but that wasn’t something he cared about. “I can handle you being mad,” he told you one night, his gaze unwavering. “What I can’t handle is you acting like I don’t exist.” It was the closest thing to vulnerability he’d been in a while, but if being honest was the only way to get through to you, then he’d rip his heart open as many times as it took.

✸ Despite his pushiness, Sprout never forced you to talk before you were ready. Instead, he found small ways to remind you that he wasn’t going anywhere. A freshly baked pastry left outside your room. A soft knock, followed by a quiet, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you want company.” No expectations, no pressure—just the promise that he was always within reach.

✸ When you finally started opening up again, it wasn’t a grand confession—it was a quiet, exhausted whisper as you sat beside him on one of the dining tables. “I just don’t want to say something I’ll regret.” He didn’t respond right away, just studied you for a long moment before finally murmuring, “Then I’ll just have to be patient, won’t I?” His usual bluntness was still there, but there was something softer beneath it, something only you got to see.

✸ As your mood slowly improved, he adjusted in kind. When you hesitated to reach out, he’d grab your hand first, squeezing it reassuringly. If you got frustrated and started spiraling, he’d guide you to the kitchen with a casual, “Help me bake something. You’re way better at kneading dough than I am.” Distractions, support, presence—he wasn’t always good with words, but he was good at being there.

✸ One of the few times you truly broke down, he didn’t hesitate. He let you cling to him, gripping the fabric of his scarf as sobs wracked your body. He didn’t try to shush you or tell you to calm down—he just held you, rubbing slow circles into your back. “You don’t have to act fine around me,” he murmured, voice steady despite the tightness in his chest. “You don’t have to pretend.”

✸ Over time, things got better. You weren’t the same toon you had been before Gardenview shut down, but you weren’t alone in that. Sprout had changed too—he had grown alongside you, adapting to your struggles without ever once making you feel like a burden. And through all of it, through every high and low, one thing had remained constant: he had never left your side.

[emeraldgreenbeautiesstu]

written for this request : matt x hooters girl, i’m thinking the triplets are recurring customers that only come to see her because matt thinks she’s hot. (pls pls pls pls! make it smutty!)

warnings : dom!matt, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), oral (male receiving) degradation, public (kinda?) sex.

lowercase intended.

a/n : this is my first time writing smut so right now i'm just testing out the waters, thanks for the request! and as always, feedback is appreciated!

-

y/n had been working at a hooters in la for about four months and it was definitely an interesting job. and it paid good. she tended to rack up the most tips out of all of her coworkers, being the hottest one. She had double d’s and a nice ass, as well as sunkissed skin, and caramel brown hair. she was used to old shriveled patrons hitting on her by now, but she wasn't used to younger people coming in as much. but recently, a group of three men had been coming in about once a week for about a month and a half now, and the change of scenery was a big step up from the wrinkly perverts who she typically served. she recognized the boys to be youtubers, the sturniolo triplets. y/n had never watched their videos, but she knew enough about them to know they post the videos in their car, and that 12 year old girls go crazy over them.

y/n was nearing the end of her shift with only two hours left, when the hot regulars walked in. she found them all attractive, but the quiet one was her favorite. she watched as they sat in her section as they always do, smiling to herself. y/n made her way to their table, swaying her hips and making her tits bounce slightly as she pulled out her notepad and pen. it was a tactic she used to get more tips. “hey yall, welcome to hooters! can i get yall something to drink?” her sweet southern accent rang out.

the one she recognized to be nick spoke up saying, “i'll have a dr. pepper, and they'll have pepsis.” he said, pointing to his brothers. y/n noticed the one she recognized as matt had moved his hand to his pants, readjusting as he tried not to look at her. she smiled, loving the effect she had on him. shed be lying if she said she didnt think about him fucking her.

“ sure honey, ill be right back with that.” she walked away, making sure to ‘accidentally’ brush matts arm with her hip as she walked away.

time had past and the boys had gotten their food. y/n had passed their table, after teasing matt all night, brushing his hand as she gave him refills, hitting his shoulder when she laughed, etc. she soon noticed that matt had gotten up behind her. “im sorry did i forget something?” she said, turning around.

“something like that.” he grumbled, motioning for her to follow him as he walked past her. he led her to the back room, and pinned her against the wall, hands on either side of her head. “if you wanna act like a little slut all night, ill treat you like one.” he growled, not breaking eye contact. the breath hitched in y/ns throat, as she nodded. he broke away to lock the door. “knees.” matt said, sitting in a chair and manspreading, the bulge in his tight pants was extremely visible. she nodded, clenching her legs before getting on her knees, feeling matts gaze burning her skin. she unbuckled his belt, looking up to meet his eyes. she undid his pants and moved his boxers, his dick springing up to hit his stomach. he was big. “how bad do you want it sweetheart.” he inquired with his boston accent more prominent on the word 'sweetheart'.

“bad. so so bad.” y/n said, reaching for his aching member. she wrapped a hand around it, slowly pumping up and down his full length. matt got impatient. he grabbed her hair by the base of her ponytail, pushing her mouth onto his dick.

“you're such a slut y/n. working here with your tits on display? you know all the men here are starin, and you love it you whore. now you're blowing a costumer in the breakroom.” he growled, watching her pump up and down on his dick, his grip on her ponytail tight as he helped her bob. “s’pretty.”

he released into her mouth and she pulled off, starting to spit when matt said. “nup, good girls swallow it.” she did what she was told. she wanted to be a good girl. matt immediately pulled her up from the floor to a standing position, moving her to the wall once more. y/n stood dripping, when matt ripped her tiny shorts off, revealing no underwear. he smirked, seeing how soaked he was. “so wet already?”

“matt i need you.” she moaned out, taking matt by surprise. with no more words, he picked her up by her thighs and slammed into her, feeling her walls stretch. she yelped at the feeling, not even attempting to muffle her sounds as he aggressively thrusted in and out. after minutes of him absolutely rocking her shit, she moaned out “matt i- im gonna cum” the tension in her stomach having little to no give.

"you cum when i say you cum." he said, continuing to pound into her. he came again, pumping it into her. "dont wanna waste it now do we sweetheart?" he asked, realizing y/ns eyes were closed and her head was back. she responded with a weak 'mhm', he grabbed her chin with his thumb and index, pulling her face down to meet his. "answer me." he growled.

"no, we dont wanna waste it." she spat out. she came all over his dick, moaning as she couldnt hold it in any longer. they snapped out of their high when they heard a fist pounding on the door.

"whos in there!" the manager of the store shouted through the door.

shit.

a/n : tbh, probs could've done better but oh well! 🎀

[emotaeyongie]

"Will you join me?"

Mark lee x fem!reader

Genre: a little hurt/a lot of comfort

Warnings: nudity (non-sexual), angst (not too much) kissing (literally once), pet names (honey, baby)

Word count: 549

A/n: my first actual fic! lmk what you guys think! im working on more fics besides texting ones rn (can't guarantee they'll be out anytime soon tho)

For once, you made it home from work after Mark. Mark was sitting on your shared couch when you trudged in. You were exhausted. Mark looked up from his phone and saw your tired state.

"Hey honey, I didn't think you were working so late tonight. What happened?" Mark asked, trying his best to be gentle with you.

"I'm sorry, I should've texted you about it. I didn't want to work late, but everyone else in my section asked to leave early- so I had to stay late and do all their work too." You sighed, dropping your purse to the floor, feeling a small weight lifted off your shoulders.

"It's okay, baby. You don't need to apologize for something like that. Here-" He motioned for you to sit down, "Let me help." Mark smiled.

As you sat down on the couch, Mark helped you slip out of your shoes and placed them by the door before coming back to you. "I made some food about an hour ago, I can heat it up for you. Did you want some?"

You silently nodded, smiling at his request. Mark got up, quickly preparing the dish he made earlier for you. He walked back over to you a couple minutes later, handing you a plate and some utensils. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you ate. Once you finished your meal, Mark cleaned up after you. "How about I run you a bath and we get ready for bed, yeah? I can tell you're exhausted, baby."

"Please," You yawned.

The two of you made it to your shared bedroom as Mark turned on the water for a bath for you. Once the bath was full, Mark walked back to you, leading you into your bathroom as he helped you out of your clothes. As you got into the tub, the warm water instantly calmed your nerves. Mark had moved your dirty clothes to the laundry, going to grab some pajamas for you to wear after.

"Mark, baby? Will you join me?" You asked.

Mark smiled as he looked back to you, "Sure, baby."

Mark stripped and tossed his clothes to the side, moving to get in behind you in the bath. His warm arms quickly enveloped your smaller frame as the two of you laid in the tub; relaxing. You leaned against Mark's back as you both soaked in the water.

"Thank you Mark, this is really nice." You whispered.

"You're welcome, baby. I just wanted to take care of you. You're always busy taking care of me, I'm glad I finally got to return the favor." Mark smiled, lightly stroking your arm.

As the water began to get cold, the two of you made your way out. You changed into your pajamas for the night as Mark did the same. The two of you got into your shared bed and you quickly curled up to Mark's side. Although you had a long day, Mark always knew how to make your nights better. You quickly drifted off to sleep, the sound of Mark's heartbeat lulling you to sleep. Mark lightly kissed your head as he saw your now relaxed figure, quietly sleeping.

"Goodnight baby, I love you." He whispered, slowly falling asleep with you in his arms.

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, your PA series is amazing! Can you write a fic about the team celebrating a big win and some people try to flirt with both PA and Jamie but they are so absorbed by each other they dont even notice other people? And the team notices and starts a bet when they'll stop being idiots amd get together, so Richard decides he wants to win and a couple days later he starts flirting with PA (because I imagine Richard flirting with women is his only way of comunicating with them) so PA is not bothered and thinks 'oh just Richard being Richard', Jamie is so confused he's speechless and the team has a laugh. And afterwhards Jamie shyly tries to find out from PA or Richard what the hell is going on.

Thanks :)

Bet On It

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, flirting, suggestive language

A/N: Thank you for this awesome request. The bet part is going to be very important to Jamie and PA's story, so thank you for that! Also it is a very long chapter and I've been writing it for ages, I don't wanna spam so I'll schedule it for some day...

The pub is buzzing with energy. AFC Richmond had just secured a massive win, and the entire team, staff, and their closest friends had taken over their usual spot at the Crown & Anchor. Pints were flowing, chants were being sung off-key, and spirits were soaring.

Y/N is there, obviously. Jamie had made a whole thing about how she had to come—something about “ya can’t celebrate a win if ya don’t have the best PA in the league with ya”—so she hadn’t stood a chance.

In the middle of of the bustling chaos celebration, Jamie and Y/N were exactly where they always were—next to each other.

They had claimed a small corner booth, sitting so close their knees brushed under the table. Their drinks sat untouched as they laughed over something ridiculous, because, of course, Jamie had ordered the most absurd drink on the menu: the 'Red Card', which came with a tiny plastic whistle attached to the straw.

Y/N was still giggling as Jamie twirled the whistle between his fingers. “Oi, don't laugh, this is class,” he said, grinning as he took a sip.

“It’s literally just a vodka cranberry with a fancy name,” Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Jamie gasped dramatically. “No, it’s got passionfruit syrup. Proper exotic.”

“Oh wow, passionfruit? That totally justifies the fact that it came with a side of gummy footballs,” Y/N deadpanned, picking up one of the tiny candies.

Jamie smirked, leaning in slightly. Too close, too warm. “Bet ya won’t eat it.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“‘Cause they’ve been sittin’ in that jar at the bar since the 2014 World Cup,” he said, nodding towards the counter.

Y/N immediately dropped the gummy. “Jamie!” she shrieked, laughing.

Jamie cackled. “See? You need me to keep ya safe.”

“Oh yeah, protecting me from stale candy is really heroic,” she quipped, rolling her eyes.

They were wrapped up in each other, completely oblivious to everything else happening around them. They barely even noticed when Sam and Dani slid into the booth across from them, smirking.

“You two are disgusting,” Sam declared, taking a sip of his beer.

Jamie frowned. “Nah, this drink’s actually well nice. And we didn't even eat the gummies, so.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sam muttered under his breath, exchanging a knowing look with Dani.

But before Y/N could question it, Keeley and Rebecca waved her over from across the room.

She nudged Jamie’s knee with hers as she stood. “I’m gonna go talk to them for a bit.”

Jamie pouted dramatically. “Oi, don’t be gone too long, yeah?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of pink on her cheeks. “Try not to get another ridiculous drink while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” Jamie called after her, grinning.

And that’s where everything started to spiral a little bit.

The evening kept going on and on. Spirits were high. The music’s loud, drinks are flowing, and Richmond is riding the high of a victory that had the entire stadium on its feet.

Jamie, of course, is loving it.

He’s alone now, perched at a booth near the bar, lounging back like he owns the place, sipping his ridiculous drink. A girl—tall, blonde, very much into footballers—leans against the table, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“So,” she says, all sultry. “You were incredible tonight. Saw the game on the telly.”

Jamie flashes her a quick, polite smile. “Yeah, I know.”

She laughs, clearly thinking he’s flirting back. "You must be exhausted. You should let someone… take care of you."

Jamie blinks. "What, like a physio?"

She pouts. "Like me."

But Jamie isn’t paying attention anymore, because across the room, Y/N is also getting hit on.

Some guy—tall, good-looking in a finance-bro kind of way—is leaning way too close, grinning down at her like he’s won the lottery.

"So, what do you do at Richmond?" the guy asks, flashing a cocky smile.

"I'm Jamie Tartt's personal assistant," Y/N replies easily, taking a sip of her drink.

The guy raises a brow. "Oh? That must be… exhausting. Bet he has you running around all day."

Y/N smirks. "Yeah, well, he's a handful. But I keep him in check."

Finance-Bro laughs, taking this as an invitation to keep going. "Bet a girl like you deserves a little break. How about I buy you a drink?"

Jamie physically flinches.

The almost-forgotten blonde girl notices. "You alright?"

Jamie waves her off. "Yeah, yeah—hold up, sorry, what'd you say?"

But she’s already gone, rolling her eyes as she walks away.

Jamie doesn’t care.

Because now? He’s glaring at that guy again.

Across the pub, the Richmond boys watched the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Y/N had returned to the booth after her chat with Keeley and Rebecca, sliding right back into her spot next to Jamie as if drawn by some unspoken gravitational pull. The two were locked in their own little world again—laughing, teasing, Jamie leaning in way too close just to whisper something in her ear that made her swat at his arm with a smile.

It was painfully obvious to everyone watching. Except, of course, to them.

Sam, beer in hand, shook his head in disbelief. “Are they serious?”

Dani sighed dramatically. “So in love and yet, so blind!”

“Unbelievable,” Colin scoffed, arms crossed. “They’re literally flirtin’ with each other every day, but the second a random person tries, they’re suddenly deaf to it?”

The team had just witnessed it firsthand.

Not five minutes ago, some bloke in an expensive-looking jacket had been chatting Y/N up by the bar. She had been polite—maybe even a little amused—but completely unaffected. Meanwhile, across the room, a girl had been twirling her hair and giggling at everything Jamie said, and he hadn’t even noticed. Jamie Tartt hadn't even noticed!

Jamie had barely glanced at her, too busy craning his neck to see if Y/N was coming back.

They were ridiculous.

Jan Maas huffed. “Five quid says they’ll keep doing this for at least another month.”

Isaac perked up. “Oh, we bettin’ now, bruv?”

He immediately stood, cracking his knuckles like this was serious business.

“Alright,” Isaac declared, pointing at Jan Maas. “One month. Jan Maas. Noted.”

Dani grinned. “Two months.”

Colin tapped his chin. “One month. No, wait—three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” Sam echoed. “That’s bold.”

“I’m an optimist,” Colin said, shrugging.

Jan Maas scoffed. “You are a fool. They will never confess because they are cowards.”

Isaac let out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“I am only honest,” Jan Maas replied.

“Two weeks,” Isaac announced, crossing his arms. “Tops.”

The boys all turned expectantly to Richard.

But Richard just smirked and swirled his wine. “Oh, no. I will simply… speed things along.”

Thierry nudged him. “You’re not betting?”

Richard shrugged, ever the picture of confidence. “Why would I bet when I can guarantee a win?”

The team exchanged wary glances.

They all knew exactly what that meant.

“...Richard,” Sam said cautiously. “What are you planning?”

Richard simply took a leisurely sip of his drink. “You will see. Put me down for one day.”

The rest of the team watched him suspiciously as he glanced over at Y/N and Jamie.

Jamie was currently leaning in close, again whispering something in Y/N’s ear that made her laugh.

Richard smirked. Time to make things interesting.

As expected a day later, Richard makes his move.

It starts at lunch.

Y/N is mid-bite when Richard slides into the seat beside her, all effortless charm and intentional mischief.

"Ah, ma chérie," he croons, reaching for her hand dramatically. “How is it that every time I see you, you grow even more beautiful?”

Y/N barely looks up from her sandwich. "Mmhm. Thanks, Richard."

Undeterred, he tilts his head, smirking. “You know, I have written poetry about women like you.”

Y/N finally looks at him, lips twitching. “Yeah? Lemme guess. ‘There once was a girl from London town…’”

Richard chuckles. “Non, non. More elegant. More… French.”

Jamie, sitting across the table, furrows his brows. His fork is frozen halfway to his mouth as he watches this unfold.

What. The. Fuck.

Richard keeps going. “Ah, you do not believe me? Perhaps I shall recite it for you, oui?”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jamie blinks.

Wait. That’s it? That’s all she’s gonna say?

Richard is laying it on thick, calling her ‘ma chérie’ and acting like some French Casanova, and she’s just laughing? Richard can't believe it.

Jamie however shoves a bite of food into his mouth, chewing aggressively.

But it only gets worse.

Later that day, it happens again.

This time, in the locker room.

Y/N is talking to Will when Richard casually drapes an arm around her shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Ah, la plus belle femme du monde,” Richard sighs dreamily. “You must tell me, how is it possible that you are here every day, yet I still lose my breath when I see you?”

Y/N snorts. "Alright, Romeo. How many times have you used that line?"

Richard gasps, clutching his chest. “You wound me, Y/N.”

She pats his cheek. “Aw, you’re such a cutie, Rich.”

Jamie short-circuits. His entire body goes rigid. Because—what the actual fuck?

Did she just call him cute?

Colin, sitting nearby, is already cackling.

Jamie snaps his head toward Sam. “Oi.”

Sam looks up innocently. “Yes?”

Jamie gestures wildly at Y/N and Richard. “The fuck is goin’ on?”

Sam blinks. “What do you mean?”

Jamie waves a hand. "He’s bein’ all… French at her! He don’t usually do that, right?"

Sam shrugs. “Oh, you know Richard. He flirts with everyone.”

“Yeah, but—not her,” Jamie argues. “Like—not this much.”

Sam tilts his head. "Why? Do you have a problem with it?"

Jamie freezes. “What? No. Just weird, innit?”

Sam hums, suppressing a grin. “Interesting.”

Jamie glares. “It’s not.”

Sam just smirks. Because it very much is. And Jamie Tartt?

Jamie Tartt is about to lose his goddamn mind.

Later, in the locker room, Jamie corners Sam, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

"Oi," he says, voice low and serious. "Don't fuck around with me right now. Be honest, Sam. What the fuck is goin’ on with Richard?"

Sam looks up from tying his laces, blinking innocently. "I literally have no idea what you are talking about, Jamie."

Jamie gestures wildly. "He’s obviously flirtin’ with Y/N! Am I fuckin' goin' insane right now or are you lot just blind?"

Sam tilts his head. "And what if he was flirting?"

Jamie lets out a sharp scoff. “What d’you mean ‘what if he was’? That's not okay, right? Like—she's mine—my assistant I mean. And mans is callin' her ‘ma chérie’ and shit.”

Sam barely holds in a laugh.

"It's not fuckin' funneh!" Jamie insists, voice rising slightly.

Sam studies him, amused. "It bothers you. Do something about it."

Jamie opens his mouth—then immediately closes it.

Because the statement was very obvious.

But he can’t just say that.

He scratches the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Sam. "It don’t. She can do whatever she wants, so yeah."

Sam hums, way too entertained by this. "Right."

Jamie glares. “Fuck you, mate.”

Sam smirks, but says nothing.

Because at this point, Jamie is digging his own grave.

The locker room is nearly empty when Jamie spots Y/N grabbing her bag from the bench. He hesitates, heart racing for reasons he can't fully explain, but he has to do this.

Jamie walks up to her, trying to act casual, but his voice comes out a little more strained than he planned.

"So," he begins, shifting on his feet. "You and Richard, yeah?"

Y/N raises an eyebrow, not quite sure what he’s getting at. "What about me and Richard?" she asks, her tone curious but not overly suspicious.

Jamie scratches the back of his neck. "Y’know… he’s, uh… been flirtin’ with ya."

Y/N lets out a short, surprised laugh, not a bit phased by the whole situation. "Oh, please. That’s just Richard."

Jamie blinks.

"What?"

Y/N shrugs, clearly dismissing the concern as nothing. "Jamie, he’s Richard." Her voice softens, almost like she’s explaining something obvious. "He flirts with everyone, especially me. He’s a flirt. It’s what he does. You’ve known him long enough."

Jamie stares at her, a mix of confusion and relief battling inside him.

So… she doesn’t like him? Richard’s flirtation is just… a thing Richard does?

It’s almost like a weight lifts off his chest, but that weight is immediately replaced by an even heavier, more uncomfortable feeling—one that Jamie can’t quite put a finger on yet. His mind starts to spiral.

“Right.” He rubs his face, trying to come off like it’s no big deal, but Y/N can see through it. She can always see through him.

"Jamie, you okay?" she asks, her voice soft but teasing. She knows he’s not acting like himself.

Jamie glances away quickly, his heart thumping harder than it should. He’s so relieved that he doesn’t have to worry about Richard and Y/N becoming a thing. Still, he’s struggling to make sense of why it felt so wrong when Richard was all over her.

But then his eyes flicker up, and he notices something he hadn't before.

The team.

Standing at the entrance to the locker room. Watching.

Watching him.

These idiots were fucking with him.

He turned back to Y/N. "Yeah, I'm all good. Just Jamie bein' Jamie, yeah?"

Y/N looked at him, now equally confused. "I guess."

"You want to grab a pint?" Jamie said, not letting her answer the question and quickly grabbing her by her wrist. "Alright, c'mon then,"

They walked past the whole team, Y/N wasn't even wondering why they all stood there. Jamie just mouthed a 'Fuck You' towards all of them and pulled Y/N along.

Richard is officially the first to lose the bet.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yandere! Revenant harem w/ "queen" darling

A/N: ya'll won't leave me alone about this damn harem lol. ! jkjk I love ya'll but idek what to really add onto the harem stuff like please...I'm dying here. please eat this while I finish my requests.

requests: always open for my baby girls

Warnings: Ya'll should be famillair with the type of time I'm on

masterlist

hypothetically...let's say the original harem failed at protecting you and the revenants won and took you captive *tbh that's the only reason they came*

The revenant harem is all about teamwork, that's why they won. None of them mind sharing you and serving you is their sole purpose of living..well being undead?

You were their prize before they died and now in their afterlife, you are the only thing they can think about. They must protect their living darling from suffering their same fate. You are their queen now, they'll stop at nothing to prove that to you. Before they were playing fair, letting you choose who you wanted but they are done waiting. They are all yours to love.

Once captured by the harem, you will no longer have any life outside of them. You are not going anywhere. They hate the thought of you interacting with the outside world. Seriously, you are on lockdown. They even hate the idea of you visiting your family. They are your family.

were you a champion? Oh, well you're no longer allowed to ever fight or train again. They forbid you because they were all skilled and dedicated their lives to it but now look at them..you cannot get hurt.

Actually anything remotely dangerous is a no go.

There's never a second when you're alone, they're enamored by you. They've most likely built an entire castle for you, fit with a throne only you may be allowed to sit on. bouquets of flowers and jewels gifted at your feet. They bow in your presence and cannot wait to throw themselves at any opportunity to do something for you.

Anything..please anything you want. They'll gladly go to war for you and take over the entirety of the outworld for your ruling. Just say the words and they'd do it. You deserve to be Kahn with your ever so graciousness.

say jump and they'll say how high. If you never felt like walking again your feet won't ever have to touch that filthy ground ever again.

Don't let this fool you though, they are absolutely insane. They are still dangerous yanderes who will collectively punish you for any signs of disobedience. Don't run away, don't fight back or reject them..

Actually...do fight back. come on..they dare you. They love it when their queen plays rough. Who wouldn't want to be punched by you? They'll taunt and mock you while your weak self tries to fight them ...you're hilarious. If you are super powerful and is actually causing trouble, you will be punished by the more intense characters. Do you think you're getting past Raiden?

"A shame I had to use such intense force to subdue you. Although you are very dear to us, do not think for a second are exempt from proper discipline. Your fate will be shortly decided."

punishments range from you having some luxuries revoked to being dropped off in the living forest and left there to fend for yourself for a couple of hours.

You got the absolute worst version of every-single character...like a harem that consists of REVENANT Dark Raiden and Noob Saibot is a harem you def don't wanna mess around and find out with.

I know in the previous harem it seemed like every girl's dream..yeah no. Not this one.

Oh and they also like to control what you wear. Elaborate regal clothing is their favorite, especially with a huge headpiece. Your schedule is also controlled throughout the day. They have everything perfectly balanced to fairly share you and to take shifts protecting your castle. Occasionally though, some will get into fights with each other when one is a bit more needy and tries to hog up your time. The most sought-after time though is when you're either getting ready in the morning or settling down in the evening. To be the one to brush your hair or to help you out of your ridiculous garments is an honor.

I like to imagine that when you sleep, they all gather around your bed, admiring your beauty. none of them are allowed to sleep on your bed, They'll just huddle on the floor around it. reminds me of the quote "sleeping on your floor is better than sleeping in my bed." They all have their own rooms but rather be near you.

they're so far gone, you have to remind them every time you need to use the restroom that no. they cannot follow you in.

"Johnny, no. I need some privacy please."

*on his knees* "But my sweetheart...I just want to offer you some assistance."

"johnny- i have to pee..."

This way of life is completely normal...that's what they keep telling you at least..That their actions are innocent. Oh they just can't bear a second without you, bullcrap. So manipulative. They are still the same grimy men as before lol

Especially Kano and Erron..somehow death just made them have less of a filter.

Do you think Lui Kang, Kung Lao, Hanzo, and Kuai forced the monks and both clans into being your personal army? They're so damn corrupt.

They'll instantly kill anyone who dares to even look at you. It's only their special privilege. Their head will be gifted to you on a silver platter to show their undying devotion. Are you crying? did you not like their gift? They're sorry. Would you have preferred something more?

Speaking of you being upset, if someone in the harem causes you distress they'll be exiled after punishment...that is if they survived it.

[secretlysamcro]

𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑆𝑜 𝐿𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑦 | 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑂𝑛𝑒

Black female reader x Jax Teller Possible spoilers, violence, explicit & threatening language, kidnapping (knowing me - eventual smut) & eventual Stockholm syndrome (kinda?) If you’re under the age of 18, haven't finished the show, or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

So this is my first ever original [by original, I mean not requested by someone else] part series! I hope you guys love. Will be multiple parts, just not sure how many yet. Let me know if you'd like to be in the tag list!

You knew taking the shortcut home was probably the wrong fucking idea, but after two pitchers of rum punch, half a smoked blunt, tequila shots and slut drops, you waited outside the club for over 30 minutes for your friends, who had disappeared somewhere between all of that. Fuck it. Your phone was dead, you had your heels swinging in your hand and your bladder was about to burst.

It was only a fifteen minute walk home, but halfway there, the pressure in your stomach became impossible to ignore. You slowed, scanning your surroundings then stumbled your way into a quiet alley between two warehouses, mumbling to yourself. ‘Real classy girl, love that for you’ You crouch low, behind a dumpster trying to be quick but before you could even handle your business, you hear it.

Voices, angry and dangerous. You freeze. The hairs on the back of your neck now standing to attention. “You thought we wouldn’t find out?” A voice growls, sharp and low “you hurt one of ours, we hurt you back. That’s how this works”

You hover forward slightly, three men stand with their backs to you. Their faces aren’t visible but the bold letters stitched across their backs? Yeah, shit was about to get real. The bodies are circling another figure kneeling against the concrete. His face is bloodied, eyes wide with fear but his pleas completely ignored.

“You fuck with the Sons of Anarchy…” the voice continues, cold as ice. “…you pay the price”

A single gunshot shatters the stillness.

You flinch violently, your hand clamps over your mouth before the scream could slip. That drunken balance, fails you. Your ass hits the filthy ground hard, landing in the piss you were trying so desperately to hold in. Your panties are still tangled around your thighs and your dress bundled up above your waist. You freeze, your heart hammering violently, praying they didn't hear. And for a moment, nobody moves.

Then, the men's voices pick up again, absolutely oblivious.

"Clean this up Hap. Rat's comin' in the second van to dump him. Needs to be on AB territory"

"You got it brother" another responds, his voice monotone but gravelly.

Another voice then speaks up nervously, slightly hesitant "Jax man, we do that, then they'll know it was us"

"That's the whole fuckin' point Juice"

Footsteps come closer, crunching over broken glass and dirt, louder and closer. Your pulse races, you’re barely breathing as the headlights flood the alley, tires screeching as a van speeds towards you. You press back harder against the wall, praying the shadows hide you and nobody looks down to see you there.

The doors slide open violently. "Come on Jax! we gotta go brother!"

The blonde man, the one they call Jax, runs towards the van, shoving something into his waistband. As he sprints past, the silencer he'd been clutching falls from his grip, rolling smoothy along the ground, like it's moving in slow motion, coming to a stop.

Right in front of you.

You don't dare breathe. You squeeze your eyes shut, praying that somehow it will make you disappear.

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me" his voice is dark, so fucking dark.

You try to crawl back against the wall, your body trembling and your heart punching at your ribs. But he's already moving. He storms over so fast that your breath catches in your throat. "I..." you say quickly, your voice cracking "I didn't...I didn't see anything I...I swear...”

"Bullshit" he bites back, yanking you roughly into the light.

Your knees scrape against the concrete, sharp pain shooting up your legs as you're dragged forward. You try to tug your underwear back up with one hand, desperate to cover yourself.

But he doesn't care.

With a hard pull he hauls you to your feet by the wrist, like you weigh nothing. Like you're just another problem he has to deal with. He doesn't scream, doesn't threaten. He just stares at you, like he already knows what's got to happen.

"I...I didn’t see anything..."

"DONT LIE TO ME!" he barks, shaking you by the shoulders.

Then, more footsteps approach. "Jax, what's..."

He whips his head towards the voice. "She saw me. She saw all of us" he then turns looking directly at the one with tattoos decorating his skull "And some stupid asshole said my name too. so its not just faces. It's me. she knows my fucking name"

You try to speak, your words slurring as the alcohol still sways through your body. You try to explain that you're not a snitch, that you wont say anything. But the words fall short when he grabs your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"Doesn't work like that darlin" he says, stone cold. Pushing your face out of his grip before turning to the man behind him. "Put her in the van".

There's no hesitation. You're grabbed hard by the forearm, and yanked towards the waiting vehicle. Before you can even steady yourself, your shoved inside. Your body hitting the cold metal floor. Jax stays where he is for a short moment, just watching. Then he crouches, scooping up your phone, heels and your small bag, pausing when he notices the damp patch spread across the fabric, his face twisting in quiet disgust.

Without a word, he tosses the bag and your shoes into the van after you, but your phone? he keeps that. He climbs in, slamming the door shut, dropping onto the bench opposite you. The silence heavy as he presses the button on your phone, trying to turn it on. But there's nothing. He exhales harshly, shoving it into his pocket as his Jaw rolls in frustration.

You're curled up in the far corner, shoulders shaking quietly. Tears flow silently down your face, but you keep your back turned so he cant see. Doesn't matter though, he knows you're crying. He sees every shudder and every tremble. He glances over briefly, his chest tightening a little when he realises just how exposed you still are.

Panties twisted awkwardly around your legs, your dress bunched up at your waist and your thighs streaked wet from piss. The minimum lighting in the van reveals your bare skin and even though he can’t see you too well, he can feel the panic and humiliation radiating off you in waves.

He lets out a forced breath through his nose as he rubs at his beard. His gaze flicking over your exposed skin. Quickly and uncomfortably. His eyes pausing at the dark ink across the small of your back, he can't quite make out what it is but he doesn't linger long enough to figure it out.

Yeah he just ended a man's life in cold blood, no hesitation whatever. But this? seeing you, someone who shouldn't even be here, someone who had no part in the clubs messy business, broken down, vulnerable and terrified? that shit doesn't sit right with him.

He mutters a curse under his breath, more aimed at himself than at you, then shrugs off his Kutte, pulling his black hoodie up and over his head, leaning forward slowly. Draping it across your shaking form. Your body goes stiff at the sudden weight of the fabric, but you don’t move. And he doesn't say a word. Nothing comforting, no apology, doesn't offer any words of false reassurance, just places the hoodie over you as he breathes deeply, frustrated at himself and the fucking mess he's now made.

Jax is pulled out of his thoughts when the driver glances back through the metal grate. "Where we takin' her Pres?" The words hang heavy in the air, Jax doesn't answer right away, his thumb tapping against his knee whilst his brain fired off in a hundred directions at once. They can't risk just dumping you, You'd seen too much. He inhales, biting his lower lip as he does. Then, his eyes flick over to where you're crawled up, silent still shaking and still wrapped in his hoodie.

"The cabin" he says, low and certain. It's isolated, quiet and no one goes they're unless they're told to. And right now, Jax needs quiet, to figure out what the fuck to do with you.

The van finally rolls to a stop after what feels like forever. You're slipping in and out, half drunk and half terrified. Everything aches, everything burns. You don’t even know how long you've been curled up in the back, knees tucked to your chest and his hoodie clutched around you like a barrier.

The door slides open and slams shut again, leaving you alone.

You catch the faint words through the walls of the van "Hap's all done at his end. Just this shit to deal with now"

"Alright" Jax replies, calm and steady "give me a minute, go inside, move anything too personal, I'll bring her in"

You sit up slowly, wincing as pain shoots through your hip from how hard you landed earlier. You pull of the hoodie and lay it beside you. Hands trembling as you finally tug your dress down and drag your underwear back into place.

A second later, the van door slides open again, fast and hard. Jax climbs back in, ducking a little under the frame. He pauses for a second, then takes a deep breath stepping forward, crouching down and offering you his hand. "Come on" he mutters "please don't make this any harder than it already is" his voice is flat, not cold but not kind either.

You don't move.

"You alright?"

You let out a dry humourless scoff, the first sound you've made since being in this van. You’ve moved past fear now, and your ‘take no shit’ attitude begins to seep through. "What do you think?" Your voice is hoarse, but the sarcasm still on fucking point. "I'm half drunk, covered in my own piss and in the process of being kidnapped...so yeah I'm perfectly alright"

His jaw flexes, but he doesn't say anything back. He just nods once like he deserved that answer. Then, reaches out and helps you up. Firm and steady, but no roughness this time. Just a man trying to handle a mess he didn’t plan for, and a woman who’s not about to go quietly. Jax kicks the cabin door open without saying a word. His grip on your arm, controlled. He walks you down a narrow hallway, his shoes heavy against the old wooden floor. You don't ask where you're going, you already know it doesn't matter.

He stops outside a door at the back of the cabin and pulls it open. A small room, a bed, a set of drawers and a tiny ensuite tucked to the side. No windows. Nowhere to run.

He guides you into the room. "Don't do anything stupid" he says simply, his eyes meeting yours for just a second before leaving and locking the door shut.

You stare at the plain wooden walls. It's silent, your heart hammering in your chest again. You haven't even sat down when the door clicks open once again.

This time though, its not Jax.

A different man walks in. Tall, messy dark curls, twitchy fingers and eyes that never stop moving. He's got a gun in his hand, held loosely at his side. He shuts the door behind him then takes a few slow steps towards you. Not in a rush, but like he's done this a hundred times before.

He grins, just about. "I don't know what Jax is thinkin', keepin' you alive... but I'm here to make sure you understand something real clear" He stops right in front of you.

Close. Too fucking close.

"You saw somethin' you weren't suppose to, and the only reason you're still breathin' is cause pretty boy out there wants to think this through" he rolls his eyes, waving the gun in the air "Me? I'm not so patient"

The words stretch on, and before you can even think, you snap. You slam your foot straight into his shin and shove him hard. He stumbles back and you rush him, teeth clenched and your nails scraping against his face. He grunts, throwing his arms up and in the scuffle you manage to draw blood from his skin.

"You crazy fucking bi..." His hand lifts, the gun gripped tight, ready to hit you with it.

The door slams open.

"TIG!" Jax's voice cuts through the room "What the fuck are you doing brother!" in a flash, he's between you both, grabbing Tig's wrist mid swing. “I told you to scare her! not beat the shit outta her”

His lips curl, blood dripping down his cheek "She fucking jumped me! look!" he points at the mark you've left on his face.

“Get out” Jax snaps, his voice sharp.

“Seriously? She started it” Tig whines, sounding more like a sulky teenager than a grown man.

“Go wait for the others. Let me handle this” Jax says, his tone sharp and final.

Tig huffs moving in the direction of the door “whatever man” you can tell by the way he looks at Jax that he wants to argue, but it’s like he knows better. He shoots you a glare as he passes, then lifts his middle finger with a slow overbearing smirk.

“see ya around sweetheart” he slams the door behind him, hard enough to rattle the cabin walls.

"So you don't wanna kill me, you don't wanna let me go...you're just trying to scare me?" you half laugh, sitting yourself down on the edge of the bed.

He rubs his face in frustration. You're hitting nerves and he hates that you can already see through him. "Can you just shut your mouth for one fucking second?" he snaps, his voice rising with irritation.

And just like that, he's on you in an instant, dropping to his knees in front of you gripping onto your arms, practically trying to shake some sense into you.

The heat of his breath hitting your face as he leans in. "Listen to me..." his voice is low but fierce. "I don't wanna do anything fucking stupid, But him? the one you just tried to fucking bite. He doesn't give a shit. And neither do the rest of em" his grip tightens just a little, goosebumps flaring up along your bare arms. "I'm trying to find a way to get you out of this. So shut. the. fuck. up. and quit being so fuckin' stubborn"

You chew your lip, the alcohol dulling but not fully gone. You're not sober but you're aware enough now, to know how real this shit is now. You just nod in response, not trusting your mouth to say the right thing.

Jax exhales hard, then glances down at you, taking you in again. Your piss stained clothes cling to your skin, you can see the smallest flicker of disgust on his face, even if he is trying to mask it. You catch the look and speak softly, almost begging. "Can I at least have a shower?"

He stares for a second longer, then finally releases his grip, standing again "Yeah". But he doesn't move far, he hovers on guard, and when you stand he makes sure to lock the door Tig just left through, his eyes not leaving you the entire time.

You hesitate slightly, unsure if you're even allowed to move yet. You watch on as he searches through the drawers in the corner, eventually pulling a pair of old joggers and a oversized tee, tossing them onto the bed next to you. "Go" he says, nodding towards the ensuite.

You move cautiously, your eyes flicking back to him. But as you go to close the bathroom door behind you, his foot wedges it open. "Not happening" he says, almost amused.

"Are you serious?" you say, narrowing your eyes at him.

He smirks, the corner of his mouth twitching like he's amused by your attitude "Not a fucking chance" he mutters, sinking to the floor, planting himself in the doorway like a guard dog.

"Creep" you glare at him, your lips turned in annoyance.

He gives you another grin, all teeth and no warmth "Been called worse sweetheart" he says, lighting a cigarette as he waits for you to clean up.

He continues sitting in the doorway, one knee bent up and the other stretched out. His jaw tight and his eyes locked forward but you know he’s aware of everything in the room.

You move slow, peeling off your dampened dress. Your eyes keep flicking back over to him, making sure he’s not looking. Steam begins to fill the bathroom as you step into the shower. The hot water hitting your skin, the grazes on your knees stinging deep but for the first time tonight, the tension in your body finally relaxes, just a little.

Outside of the shower, Jax takes a slow drag of his smoke, his eyes momentarily drifting. Then he sees it, the tattoo he couldn’t work out earlier. "Lucky You" in small print just above the curve of your ass. He scoffs under his breath, amused. Intrigued. Maybe a mixture of both. “Yeah…not so lucky” he mutters, the irony making him laugh.

When you finished getting changed, you still don't utter a word. You simply step over him, your bare foot brushing against his thigh, your hair still wet, curls shrinking tighter as they dry. He stiffens slightly but doesn't move, doesn't speak. Just follows you with his eyes as you sit back on the bed.

"You always act like this?..." he speaks finally, his voice low, almost taunting "...like you ain't scared?"

You meet his stare, holding it as he gets up off the floor. "Maybe I am scared"

"Are you?"

"What the fuck do you think?"

He doesn't reply right away. Just studies you, the same unreadable expression plastered across his face. Something behind his eyes shift, but its too quick to catch. "What's your name?” "Why? so you can put it on my grave?" you raise a brow as you stare him out.

"I could just check in your bag” he mutters.

“Do that then”

“Rather you just tell me…bags covered in piss” he makes that same face again, like he's grossed out but trying to hide it.

You cant help but let out a laugh. "So you'll shoot a guy in the head, but a lil piss is where you draw the line? wow...that's wild"

He finally makes eye contact now, a grin creeping at the corners of his mouth "Oh" he says, the grin now blatant on his face "so you did see somethin?"

Your stomach drops the second the words leave his mouth. You try to keep your face blank. You’ve sworn up and down until now that you didn’t see a thing. Your throat tightens and your chest pulls tight. You don’t have any words to respond with so you just watch him.

“Guess I’ll just call you Lucky” he says, already walking towards the door. Absolute audacity in his tone, and as if he’s not already five steps past disrespect, he winks as he says it.

You sit up a little straighter “Lucky?”

He glances over his shoulder with that same fucking smile. “The tattoo”

And then, it hits. You feel the heat rush up your neck. You don't know if it was when you were standing in that damn shower, or maybe it was before that. When you were chucked in the back of the van, skin exposed and eyes on you like you were nothing more than a problem.

“Fuck you” your voice is low, the words sounding rougher than you meant them to.

He stops in the doorway, turning fully leaning himself against the frame. “Not tonight darlin” Then the door shuts behind him. The lock clicking slow. And just as the silence settles, you hear the deep roar of more bikes turning up, one by one.

Photos & gifs do not belong to me

Jax Teller Masterlist

My plan is to do shorter parts than usual, so we can drag it out a little! Thank you for taking the time to read! Love you all 🤭🖤🫶🏽

xoxo secretly samcro