#tired of life being one never-ending game of catch-up. I just want to do things without needing a gun to my head

[a-concert-just-for-me]

no yeah I’m getting def getting reassessed for adhd because this ain’t it, chief

[bunnwich]

HELLO! Do you have a summary of how you portray Leona's personality in your stories? I'm a big fan of your Leona and Yuu stories and I've read them multiple times www /gen I always feel like you just nail how he would act and say things and you inspire me to work on my own fics and get better at writing scenarios with him. Than you in advance ily🙏 🦉anon

How I Portray Leona in General and in Romance

HI ANON! So I've gotten this question a few times and someone in my discord asked me basically the same thing so I'll share with you what I wrote a few months ago about Leona and the general way I write him. (it's quite funny bc a lot of these things come up in Chapter 7 when we see his dream. I AM CURSED WITH APOLLOS'S GIFT OF PROPHECY WITH THIS MAN ISTG)

I hope this is helpful?? I would like to point out that the way I write Leona is fully based on my biases and life experiences. And that a big part of fandom is projecting what you wanna see in characters while still making them feel like the same character we know in canon, yk? Good luck with your fic writing! And thank you!! mwah mwah.💚 --

So Leona takes himself as a direct person, BUT he hides A LOT. He purposely misdirects people to get a reaction out of them. (Ex: pretending to be incompetent to anger someone) or he's playing with them. HE LOVES GAMES. Everyone is a chess piece, he has to feel in control bc that’s all he has ever had over everyone else; his wits. He’s a dickhead. He will say offensive shit to scare people off.

It’s a test to see who sticks around. He has no reservations when it comes to this. You take him as he is. And despite how some people write him he’s kinda silly? Like dad jokes. Why does he joke so much about eating people, who knows? (He says shit like Namby-pamby ffs) Why are you a 40y/o in a 20 y/o body?

I HC he purposely talks casually and gruff to distance himself from his upbringing. (I like to mix proper language and slang with him bc it feels right? Also lots of animal puns, and nicknames. HE'S CORNY AF)

In general, I don't think Leona is an entirely romantic person in canon, however in my timeline, I do HC that he, like Scar has this “want vs need problem” with connection to others. He thinks it's just praise he wants (or to be king) BUT he NEEDS TLC. What was Scar MOST jealous of at the end of the day?? Mufasa’s connections, a ✨queen✨, a family! BEING KING DID NOT MAKE SCAR HAPPY!! He needs to be needed and in Chapter 2 novella, he admits he HAS to numb himself to not care. I feel like this is something he constantly battles with. Yeah, he's lazy but it's partly bc he’s tired. He’s burnt out.

On the surface, he projects 100% nonchalance. He wants you to think everything he says is just "off the cuff", but it's not. He plans everything!!! He’s a mentor, big bro, caretaker. He is not the best at comforting words but he enjoys being a leader bc people appreciate him and look up to him. Something he never got at home.

Leona and ✨Romance✨

He fools himself into thinking he has the upper hand at first and keeps his distance keeping an eye on the object of his affection. Why would you catch his eye? Well, his greatest strength is picking up on OTHER STRENGTHS. Chessmaster. He is a mentorrrr and caretaker lowkey, he wants others to NEED him and rely on him. HE WANTS YOU TO NEED HIM.

At first, he would place himself in your path, trying to be helpful in a very tsundere type way. But he would still be causal and keep ruffling your feathers to gauge how you feel for him. He guards his heart pretty heavily. And more and more he is slowly collecting info about you he would find more ways for these meetings to happen until he realizes: "Oh shit, I’ve caught feelings." This one is the winner. He’s the king of nonchalance but also...he’s a very overly sensitive person. No doubt he’s freaking out a little, he doesn't wanna screw this up. But, he’d never show it.

I do think he wants to be challenged and given some pushback (insert manga panel about "something being harder to get and therefore is better"), He wants to WORK for it, to prove himself to you that you SHOULD choose him. He wants to impress you. It makes him feel alive. A person who keeps him on his toes.

And once this ”game” of cat and mouse starts to happen. He might start to let his guard down if you are shown you can be trusted with his VERY VERY delicate feelings, that you DO accept his flaws, treat him differently than all others, and see past his gruff demeanor. It is a test of sorts. He is testing that you can “handle” him. MORE GAMES.

He’d let you set the pace though. He won't be the first to give in. To kiss you or confess first. But he would fall first HARD. He’s not been given much one-on-one attention in his life so he would crave that time with you. Physical touch is a big one, but he would not be pushy. He'd tease your boundaries and become addicted to your time together.

But yeah, this push and pull goes on for a while, all the while he’s gauging how you react to this. Memorizing it all.

He’s def one of those texters who erases their sentence like 5 times when they are nervous bc he is cookin' up the RIGHT response to endear you. (Not in a sappy way of course more in a: “I know you miss me, mouse.” snarky sorta way.) Though he can be self-deprecating on bad days. He’ll act confident, though soften up behind closed doors.

I think once he realizes that you have picked up on his simpery and there's no going back...all bets are off. He doubles down, no longer ashamed of hiding it. (Assuming at this point the person has reciprocated these feelings too!) He wants to be yours and he’s not subtle. Someone to be by his side.

Then you get the REAL simp Leona, who lowkey mumbles the sappiest shit to you in his native language when he holds you, (bc he’s still embarrassed to be vulnerable, though this will fade over time) He’ll be your biggest supporter, and wants you around him as much as you can be.

This just keeps going until you're married. Congrats you now have a lion to take care of forever.🦁 Hope this helps!✨

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Childhood friends to lovers w modern Jace and he’s just really protective over you. When they go out to a party, he’s just begging you to not start anything with any guys, and he’s lowkey mad at you for wearing something revealing. You end up really drunk to the point where Jace has to take you home and you’re just rlly touchy and bold, confessing things you would never say if you sober. And he’s just being flirty back and teasing you abt the stuff you’re saying about him. Idek where this is going but like eventual smut. 😩 Ty, your works are so good.

I love college modern!Jace. To my eyes, he is always part of the hockey team and friends with Cregan. This is how I see modern!Jace

Sorry, I didn't do smut because consent when drunk is not valid consent (you know what I mean?) but everything else is checked!

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Jace sat on your bed as you finished getting ready in your bathroom. He played with the ears of your purple giraffe plushie, smiling when he saw the friendship bracelet still tied to its neck. 

‘’Do you know if Jason is gonna be there tonight?’’ 

‘’Lannister?’’ 

You hummed and Jace grimaced. 

‘’He’s a fucking asshole and only want you for sex. Don’t talk to him. Okay?’’ 

You rolled your eyes in the mirror, tired of Jace disapproving of every guy you talked to. He wasn't trying to make all guys seem bad; he just knew them and their intentions better than you. He was looking out for you.

And you trusted his judgment. 

‘’Yes, dad,’’ you replied sarcastically as you came out of the bathroom. 

Jace’s head lifted when you came into view, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the top you were wearing. To his eyes, this was a bra — with a longer bodice. While you looked really good in it, guys at the party will think the same and oggle you in ways that would make Jace want to punch them.

‘’Eh, is there a second shirt that goes over this one?’’ 

You frowned at his question. ‘’No. Why? What’s wrong with my shirt?’’ 

Jace took a few seconds to think of a way of saying that your shirt was showing a lot without sounding like he was calling you slutty. ‘’Aren’t you gonna get cold? It’s nearly November.’’

You shrugged, grabbing your phone and dorm keys. ‘’I’m fine. You always give me your jacket when I get cold.’’ 

‘’Right. But maybe you should take a jacket with you? In case I’m not available to give you mine.’’ 

‘’Not available?’’ Your lips curled into a mischievous smirk. ‘’Jacaerys Velaryon, are you planning on leaving with a girl tonight?’’ you teased, poking at his chest. You’ve seen him kissing girls at parties, but he never left with any of them. 

He ignored your question, clearly not wanting to discuss his romantic life. ‘’Let’s go. Cregan is already on his third beer. I need to get my revenge on air hockey before he gets too drunk.’’ 

You laughed, slipping your phone into your small purse. ‘’Can I play too?’’ 

‘’We’ll see,’’ Jace said, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked out of your dorm. 

It’s not that he didn’t want you to play. You’ve played with the boys before. It’s just that your shirt was not ideal for playing air hockey. If you leaned on the table, everything would be exposed and he didn’t like the idea of his friends looking at your tits. 

The music was loud at the frat house, plunging everyone into the ambiance. You were sipping your second drink and dancing with your friends after watching Cregan annihilate Jace at air hockey. Jace seemed distracted, his eyes scanning the room instead of focusing on the game. Maybe he was searching for a girl?

Shaking off the thought, you headed to the kitchen and made yourself another drink. You should be happy if he found someone he liked, but the truth was, you were secretly jealous. He had been your best friend since kindergarten, you should have dibs on him.

You put the caps back on the bottles and reached for your glass, but someone snatched it away.

‘’Hey! Give it back!’’ 

‘’No more drinks for you,’’ Jace said from behind you, pouring the contents of your glass into the sink.

‘’It’s my first drink. Okay, maybe my second…or third.’’ A giggle escaped your lips. You were a lightweight when it came to drinking, a fact you always seemed to forget. ‘’I think I’m a little tipsy.’’

Jace raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. ‘’Tipsy?’’ He shook his head and suggested you head home and watch Grey’s Anatomy.  

You pouted, not wanting to leave the party just yet, but the thought of watching Grey's Anatomy with Jace sounded nice. He was always so invested in the episodes and characters, but it was a secret. If his teammates knew, they would never let him live it down.

His arm was around you, leading you out of the frat house and into the cool night air. As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for Jace’s presence. You didn’t know many guys who would offer to take their drunk friend home without any bad intentions.  

‘’You’re a good person, Jace,’’ you said, his jacket over your shoulders. ‘’Always looking out for me.’’

He chuckled, pulling you closer when a group of drunk guys walked by. ‘’What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?’’

You didn’t respond. 

Once you were at your dorm, you set up your laptop and settled into your small bed. It was a tight fit, but you and Jace made it work. 

The episode started where you left off. 

‘’Who do you think is better? McDreamy or McSteamy?’’ you asked as Derek appeared on the screen. 

‘’I don’t know,’’ Jace responded, lying comfortably against your pillows. ‘’Mark is eye-candy, but I think early seasons McDreamy was peak.’’ 

You nodded, laying your head against Jace’s shoulder. ‘’Same. I have a soft spot for brunets. And curly hair.’’

‘’Derek doesn’t have curly hair…’’ 

‘’But you do and it’s cute.’’ 

‘’You think my hair is cute?’’ Jace repeated, teasing you.

‘’It’s so curly and bouncy. And soft too.’’ You twirled one of Jace’s curly hair around your finger, your fingers lingering as position caused your chest to press slightly against his. ‘’And you smell very good. Except when you play hockey. You’re stinky.’’

Jace laughed, the sound vibrating through your body. ‘’Good to know. I’ll make sure I shower before seeing you.’’ 

You smiled, your fingers still playing with his hair. ‘’You’re so pretty.’’ 

Your last compliment took him by surprise, his cheeks flushing. Had you not been intoxicated on alcohol, tonight would have taken a different turn, but Jace was respectful. He would never make a move without your sober consent.

‘’Eh, thanks. Let's...let's continue watching Greys.’’

—

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[deepspacenova]

Zayne’s insomnia + Sylus being the perfect cure HCs

Zayne x Sylus (x Reader)

Incidentally, reader is third wheeling in like, this whole list (but somehow I feel like many of us won’t mind).

[Inspired by the replies in this post with @leighsartworks216 where we spiraled about Zayne + Sylus… dynamics that made my brain go into full HC mode.]

Sylus taking care of day to day Onychinus business when he starts to notice traces of Zayne around the house at night: a medical tome left open on the coffee table, a glass of ice water (but mostly ice) on the counter, one of Zayne's rings on the end table;

Pretty sure he understands, Sylus ventures out of his office more often. Each time he sees Zayne, he looks more exhausted but the one time Sylus raises a brow at him, he’s brushed off with an, "I'm fine.";

Sylus, of course, takes it as a challenge and makes it his mission to become the biggest tease. I mean, he's king of pushing the limits of your self control, so Zayne’s cinder block wall exterior is the ultimate challenge and he’s set on tearing that shit down brick by fucking brick;

It starts with touches. Brushing Zayne's hand, playfully squeezing the back of Zayne’s neck when he walk past him on a business call, using his evol to pull Zayne's books, phone, snacks out of his hands;

But then there's Sylus' words. And when it comes to those, Zayne's a goner. He's used to you being forward in your affections with him but he can't help but clear his throat at Sylus' double entendres and flirty quips, or feel heat in his abdomen when Sylus uses his drawling rasp;

"You’re always so tense, Z. Want me to loosen you up?";

"Those medical texts aren't doing anything to put you to sleep. Maybe you need something that penetrates deeper... into that overactive mind of yours.";

"I know you're the doctor, but maybe you need someone else to prescribe your... treatment tonight.";

It’s not long before it becomes a subconscious thing for Zayne — seeking out Sylus whenever he jolts awake at night. Zayne's very adamant that it’s because he doesn’t want to disturb you in bed though (sure baby boy);

But there's something about Sylus’ ruthless teasing and the mind games they play that has him tired out within an hour of even the worst of his nightmares;

And he'd never admit it out loud but sometimes, Zayne falls back asleep imagining the satisfaction he'd get from finally silencing the Onychinus leader's teasing by stuffing his cock down his throat;

Of course Sylus can tell when Zayne’s frustration and tension finally snaps. His new favorite thing is seeing Zayne try to resist him before he gives up and crawls back into bed;

Sylus knows exactly how to wear him down. Sometimes, it’s pulling the book from Zayne's hand with his evol, only to say "Careful, doctor. Grabbing it like that might get you into trouble,” when Zayne reaches over to snatch it back;

Sometimes he sneaks up behind Zayne, kissing the back of his neck while his Evol tugs Zayne's hips back against him;

Cut to Zayne, pants pulled down to his ankles, legs over Sylus's shoulder, getting the best fuckin blow job of his life. Sylus holding onto his thighs, refusing to let the doctor hesitate to squeeze around his head. Zayne's hand in Sylus's hair, pulling and tugging and trying to keep some semblance of control;

Zayne throwing his head back against the couch, breath choked in his throat, hand tight in Sylus's hair to keep his nose pressed to his stomach, but then Sylus pulls off of him. It's frustrating, it draws unexpected noises from him. And Sylus just smirks and says he promised to tire him out, kissing all up his hip and legs; (credit to @leighsartworks216 for these pieces of genius).

On particularly bad nights, Zayne goes to the balcony to catch his breath and some cold air to calm himself down. One night Sylus, effortlessly smug with the phone at his ear, at work, uses his evol to force Zayne to his knees. "Handle it today," he says to the person on the phone, "you know how I like to put men in their place.";

Speaking of, Sylus loooves edging Zayne. Leaving him a panting, writhing mess, pulling away just when Zayne’s hand tightens in his hair or his breath hitches in his throat. “I said I’d tire you out, but I never said I’d make it easy.”;

For a guy who doesn't say much, Zayne's vocal and very demanding in the heat of the moment - which wakes you up sometimes.

Knowing all about Sylus' scheme to tire Zayne out, you love sliding into bed hand pressed to his chest, "Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing, maybe we need to do some tests?" Sylus chuckles darkly, watching Zayne’s eyes flutter between both of you. The idea of you both teaming up to tire him out finally makes Zayne’s control slip;

The best time of day is twilight, a few hours before you and Zayne start the day, as Sylus is ending his. The three of you fall into bed, Zayne's body is exhausted and his mind is quiet. Barely keeping his eyes open when his fingers twine with yours. Sylus pulls you close from behind, his hand on top of both of yours. Sylus smirks at both of you, proud of himself. "The only nightmare you two are allowed to have is me."

[jupiter-esque]

could u write karma with a s/o that doesn’t get into trouble? Kinda like an opposite like they’re still outgoing but the type to never skip and only wanting straight A’s and are kinda sensitive in contrast to him? (🫶🫶ur writing is so cute idk if you still write for karmaa aaa!!😭)

Note: I will NEVER stop writing for karma 😤😤😤

Honestly?

He doesn't even really notice you at first.

Another student in class-E, just like any other.

Obviously that is until you managed to score higher than him in maths during exam season.

It started off as a miniature rivalry, very one-sided might I add.

He'd come to you smirking by the end of the next exam with a mark higher than yours only to be surprised when you smile widley and congratulate him.

Every. Single. Time.

Huh?

You're not supposed to do that, your eyes are supposed to burn with determination and annoyance. You're supposed to snatch that paper from his hands and wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

Clearly not.

Its not even a fake smile, there isn't even a hint of malice in your eyes.

It's almost as if you're happy for him.

You don't even know him, not properly at least.

This really changes perspectives for the assassin so now he's shifted into doing everything in his power for your recognition.

Which doesn't seem to be very hard to gain as he notices that you're a bit popular in class.

Not entirely popular, but if students come up to you they'll only get a sweet greeting every time as if they're a long-time friend of yours.

You're basically Koro-sensei's golden child. Wide sparkling eyes every time you put your hand up in class to you answer his questions, he could weep at how adorable you are.

Everyone comes up to you for anything really.

Help with homework, a quick check in, or just to talk. You're always so easy to talk to, so gentle all the time.

Even Itona will quietly chat with you in a corner.

You're just so...approachable.

In Karma's eyes that's unfair. He needs to catch your attention and now.

Maybe to prove something to himself or just boredom, he doesn't need a reason.

So now he's the one asking for homework help. He can answer the questions in his sleep, you know it too.

He's still gonna play dumb, tap you on the shoulder and muster up his best clueless look.

Even in class, Karma has "coincidentally" managed to switch seats to be your desk partner.

You didn't hear it from me but maybe an octopus-like teacher has something to do with that.

Anyway.

Now that you're basically knee to knee with him in class, this allows karma to charm his way into your every day life.

Constantly stealing away your time with anything he can possibly think of.

He'll do this thing where he just wraps his arms around your shoulders and sultry whine into your ear.

"_____, help me please?"

He'll even throw in a pout.

Nagisa has to pry him off of you.

You don't even ask why he's suddenly around you nearly 24/7, you're just glad to be of help really and though you think he's a bit strange he's quite sweet.

A well known charismatic (possible) sadist, but sweet.

Class trip? He's sitting next to you on the bus.

Getting ice-cream? He already knows your favourite flavour.

Study session? You'll need to work together, being the two top students in class it would only be sensible to partner up for academics. This lead to him coming over a lot and vice versa, need to keep those grades up you know.

Spending the weekend at home? Don't be silly, you're flying to the country of your choice on a whim with a certain red-haired 'friend' of yours.

Having rich absent parents really does come in handy sometimes.

But this whole game is tiring him out.

You've gotten close, yes. He's flustered you plenty, yes. But you haven't confessed to him at all!

It's infuriating.

He wants you to like him at least, because he's teetering on the edge of obsession for you.

Because 'friends' don't hold hands all the time, they don't hug longingly or stay up late thinking of the other.

It'll all click in to place when he just goes red in the face, kisses your cheek once and just spews his feeling out like a flood.

"I like you."

"...Oh."

(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ )

Coughing, he'll look away and pretend like nothing happened while trying desperately to renew his previous charm.

can the ground just open up and swallow him already, oh god.

“I…like you too.” you shyly smile

karma.exe has stopped working

[jojosbingsu]

omgg i loved your jojo headcanon so much 🥹🩷! i was wondering if i could request the same thing but with maki instead! have a good one boo, love ya 🫶🏻!!!

Boyfriend Maki

Admin: Ellie

Genre: Fluff, Wholesome

Pairing: gn!reader x Maki

Word Count: 2.26K

Notes: Hello anon~! Thank you for your request! ^0^ I hope you enjoy my thoughts on boyfriend Maki. :) Please feel free to request again or leave your thoughts and opinions through the request box! Requests are always open and I’m always open to hearing feedback on my work~

You have never met someone who flirts as much as Riki does. This guy absolutely LOOOOOVES to flirt with and tease you because it makes him feel good to see you blushing over something he’s said or done. He’s subtle about it in public so you don’t get embarrassed around others but when you’re alone, he’s a flirt machine who lives his life for the sole reason of seeing you flustered. Even when you’re separated, he will text you cheesy pickup lines when he misses you or give you a quick video call to tell you he wanted to see your face for a few minutes.

Touching isn’t his primary love language but he sure does love to just hug and hold onto you. He feels the most comfortable when he’s relaxing on the sofa with his arms wrapped around you or when his head is resting against your shoulder, chest or back. Whenever you’re facing the opposite direction, he will give you a back hug and just lean into you to find comfort and feel more connected to you for a little while. 

That being said: Cuddles are almost mandatory. If you’re staying the night together, he won’t sleep comfortably unless he’s able to snuggle up close to you and wrap an arm loosely around you. If it’s cold or raining outside, you can almost guarantee he will find his way to your place. He will either want to cuddle close with you or just lay with his head in your lap while you’re busy with whatever else you’d like to do. 

Napping on your lap like a cat is another habit Riki has. When you’re busy playing a game or speaking with your friends, you’ll find your incredibly adorable boyfriend laying down with his head on your lap to catch a quick nap when he’s feeling tired. Running your fingers through his hair or caressing his face is a great way to help him fall asleep much faster. He will sometimes reach to pull one of your hands towards his chest to huge onto until he’s drifted off to sleep.

Riki’s primary love language is spending quality time with you. There’s nothing that makes him happier than just simply having his alone time with you, even if you’re not really doing anything besides lounging lazily on opposite ends of the couch together. As long as you’re with him, he’ll be the happiest guy in the world. His favorite activity to do with you would be going out on adventures or cooking with you! Riki is quite the chef these days, so he would love it if you’d be his second in command and help him whip up a yummy meal you guys could share over a nice at-home dinner date. 

Adventures with Riki would include going on road trips to places neither one of you have ever visited before or taking a simple hike through the woods to find a waterfall you could share a picnic in front of! Adventures could also be simple things like making a trip to the mall because he’s on the hunt for a specific teddy bear he saw a commercial for or going on a hunt for your favorite candy and making multiple stops along the way to find it. - There are no real rules or guidelines for what an “adventure” would be with Riki. Perhaps he would want to take you to an amusement park and label it as an adventurous date for you two! Whatever the case may be, make sure you’re prepared to be out all day!

PDA with Riki is almost non-existent. He loves you dearly and isn’t afraid to make it known that you’re HIS partner, but he doesn’t believe in showcasing “special” relationship moments to the public. Holding your hand or hugging onto you like a clingy monster while you’re out together is fine but you’ll never catch him smooching you in front of anyone else. To him, that kind of thing is special and private and he wants to keep those moments all to himself. He will call you by pet names in public to display affection, but physicality is saved for more private, intimate times where you’re away from the rest of the world. 

Very openly possessive over you. He tries not to sound like he views you as property by any means but he does absolutely try to make it abundantly clear that you are HIS partner and you’re not looking for another one when he feels that someone is being touchy or clingy with you. “It’s my job to fawn over you like that” is something you’ve heard many times before with a sulk coming to rest on his face when someone has struck his nerves the wrong way. He will sometimes clear his throat and glare at people when they’re making him uncomfortable with the way they look at or speak to you. 

He is forever talking about you when you’re not together. If he’s with his friends, he finds a way to mention you about 60 times in conversation just simply because he loves you and he adores sharing information about you with those he’s close with. Though he loves to mention you to his friends, it’s his family that never hears the end of stories about you. He really wants you to have a good relationship with his parents, so he’s forever running to them to gush about how much he loves you! He never forgets to make sure they know just how much you love him too, though! He always mentions how you’ve done something for him lately that made him feel special, such as baking him cookies or helping him sort through old clothes to get rid of when you had a free weekend to spend with him. 

Giving you gifts is something he does on a regular basis. Almost every time you see him, he’s got something new for you! Whenever he sees something that reminds him of you, it’s coming home with him immediately and you just have to have it. He loves to get you nice smelling candles he thinks would set a relaxing mood for you or soft plush blankets that are decorated with your favorite cartoon characters.

Impromptu nerf battles + water gun fights. Let’s just be honest - Riki is a little kid trapped inside of his teenage body. He still has a heart full of childish wonder and joy, so you had better be prepared to get shot with nerf darts or water droplets at the most random moments in time. Whenever you show up to his house, already be prepared with your own nerf gun because he’s planning to get you from a window as you approach the front door. You have to beat him to the punch or else you’re losing the battle almost instantly. If you’re relaxing on the couch, keep an eye out because he’s absolutely planning something nefarious and you’ll want to catch him before he’s able to ensnare you in his nonsense. 

A complete wuss. He is the embodiment of "weenie hut junior" clientele. This guy is terrified of bugs and rodents of all kinds, so you had better hope none ever find their way into your living space. Riki for sure will NOT help you get rid of it. He will be the main one standing on a countertop screaming his lungs out. Your neighbors would think someone is getting killed because of how loud and hard he would scream if a bug or some kind of outside rodent suddenly approached him while hanging out at your place. Count him OUT, he's not dealing with it. You would have to call another friend or some sort of professional to deal with the issue because Riki would stand there screaming that it's trying to kill you. "GET AWAY FROM IT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? OH MY GOD IT'S GOING TO BITE YOUR FINGER OFF GET OVER HERE!" - He would trip major balls over it and end up embarrassing himself.

Always tries to play it off like he wasn't scared. "I was just messing with you! What do I look like being afraid of a bug smaller than my thumb nail?" -> Would become so embarrassed and flustered when you laughed at him and teased him for his behavior. Always has to find an excuse that makes him seem like less of a wuss. "No, I cried because my tummy hurt, I didn't even notice the grasshopper in here..." (sweating nervously because he doesn't know if it's gone yet)

When you guys don’t spend the night together, Riki has made it a habit to send you really sweet morning messages so you have something nice to wake up to in his absence. He’s always wishing that you have a great day and makes sure he reminds you of how much he loves you and how excited he is to see you again. He sometimes sends you photos of his outfit of the day before he heads out as well because he knows how much you love receiving photos of him. 

He likes to take you out for breakfast dates! He thinks going out for breakfast before splitting up for the day is a great way to make sure you both start off the morning on a positive note. He loves quiet mornings in the cafe with you before his day gets busy. He feels like you’re always giving him the strength he needs to keep a positive attitude about his busy schedule, often feeling as though you’re the reason he ends up having a good day. Your morning pep talks really seem to do wonders for the cutie pie and he will forever express his gratitude for your kindness. 

He sends voice notes of him crybabying from time to time if he thinks you’ve taken too long to respond to his messages when you’re separated. Of course he’s never actually mad or accusing you of anything, he just likes to complain and catch your attention. Sometimes you’ll tease him over the voice notes and it opens the door for him to tease you back, which we’ve already established is like his NUMBER ONE favorite thing to do to you. 

When you DOOO spend the night with Riki? Expect to be pampered. This guy makes it his mission to make sure you’re extra comfortable before going to bed when you’re with him. He will run a nice bath for you to relax in (he will sometimes join you in the tub so you can both enjoy the time of unwinding together), he will do skincare routines with you, stock up on your favorite snacks, and make sure he already has the comfiest and softest pajamas picked out for you to wear. 

Breakfast in bed when you stay the night with him! He wakes up extra early in the mornings after you’ve stayed the night at his place so he can prepare a nice breakfast for you to enjoy in bed. Sharing a lazy breakfast with you brings him a lot of comfort and peace. He feels like moments like those spent in bed sharing a meal are special and irreplaceable. He looks forward to surprising you with something different each morning and he finds it to be a very romantic bonding activity just for the two of you. 

Riki is the best when it comes to reassuring you and providing you with comfort when you need it the most. I feel like he’s probably one of the most open minded people you could ever meet, so he would always be understanding when you want or need more from him. He’s always ready to reassert his love and admiration for you. Most of the time, you don’t really have to ask for him to reassure you that he loves you and isn’t upset with you for any reason but if the time comes, all you have to do is say that maybe you feel a little emotionally distant from him and he’s quick to fix it. 

Aside from being the best at reassuring you, Riki also has stellar communication skills and habits. He never hides what he’s feeling from you and he makes it comfortable enough that you never have to hide your feelings either. If something is wrong, he will immediately speak up about it so you can clear the air as soon as the bad feelings hit so there is no animosity between you two. He allows space for you to do the same thing and is always ready to apologize when he knows he’s overstepped a boundary. 

Overall; Riki is a very sweet, tenderhearted and sometimes childish boyfriend. He likes to spoil you with candles and blankets, he pampers you with breakfast dates and warm baths, and he is very emotionally attached to you! He prefers to keep your relationship private (not hidden by any means) from the general public but he boasts about you nonstop to friends and family. He is a very loving guy who just wants you by his side all the time. He tries to make you as comfortable as possible and he’s always ready to make changes so you can both grow positively as a couple and as individuals. He's still learning how to be a good boyfriend, so he does sometimes slip up and make mistakes but it's no big deal. He's always taking accountability for his mess-ups and he's willing to learn from his mistakes so he doesn't make the same ones over again.

[rita-repulsa-ke]

In Bed

Headcanons around their sex life. This one is rated maybe R, though it isn’t smut. Proceed accordingly.

When overly excited, Rio is an oil fire, devouring, all-consuming, barely letting Agatha breathe, let alone think. She doesn't actually have to play by mortal rules about stamina or exhaustion, and so things normally end when Agatha is too sore or too tired to continue. Sometimes Agatha has to resort to magic, uses it to please her inhuman lover until she runs out of energy for even that, collapses and sleeps like the dead.

What Rio really prefers, though, when she can sit still for it, are sweet things, soft caresses, butterfly kisses and murmured adoration. That’s not Agatha’s strong suit, but she’s more than happy to do it, because it gives her the thing she likes most of all—control. She takes her time with it, until she has a melted, mewling puddle of Death begging her for release.

And then there are the times when Agatha wants it rough, punishing, maybe even a touch demeaning. She could just ask, of course, but where’s the fun in that? She prefers to live dangerously, she likes the thrill of making Rio angry, riding the line between getting what she wants and getting stabbed by a frustrated supernatural being.

The easiest way is flirting. She picks out some pretty girl in town, smiles at her in a way that leaves her head spinning and her cheeks flushed, until Rio drags her favorite girl away to get exactly what she deserves.

Afterwards, while Agatha is basking in the sore afterglow, her head on her lover’s thigh, Rio complains, “I feel like this is only encouraging you.”

“Nooo,” Agatha says, looking up, enjoying the view. “I’ve definitely learned my lesson this time.”

She can only laugh at how dramatically Rio sighs, a sustained burst of air. “I really do hate when you flirt,” her lover sulks.

“But think of how you get to punish me for it.”

“Mm. Punish,” Rio picks up her knife, twirls it one-handed. “If I stabbed you, you might actually stop.”

“But then how would I have any fun?”

Rio studies her, brushes her hair back with an unnervingly gentle touch. “Someday, Ags, you really will go too far with this game.”

Agatha takes that hand in hers, presses her lips to the back of her lover’s knuckles. “Only you. Only ever you. In my heart and in my bed.” She meets Rio’s eyes, unblinking and huge. “All right?”

”…does it have to be flirting?” Rio says, but she’s softened, caught, staring only at Agatha.

Agatha’s smile curls at the edges, her eyes light with equal parts mischief and malice. “It does work so well, though. You get positively vicious. And,” she simpers, does her best attempt at doe eyes. “I do make it up to you, don’t I?”

Something in Rio’s eyes catches, oil lit aflame. “…sometimes. Eventually.”

Agatha’s cheeks heat and she actually has to fight the urge to look away. “…I really can’t, I’ll—“ she stops herself from saying ‘die’ at the last possible second, that would really get Rio going. “Never walk again.”

Rio considers that. “I’m feeling kind of unsatisfied, though. And I do have this knife…”

“Goddess, whoever taught you to say things like that is a monster,” Agatha says with appreciation. “Can I just—with the magic?” She holds up her hands, crackling with purple.

Rio shrugs, pretend-indifferent but doing a bad job of it, because she’s looking at Agatha like a starving man looks at a three-course meal. ”Not what I’d prefer, but—“ she lounges back, looks down at the woman she loves. “All right, Agatha. Satisfy me.”

And of course, Agatha does.

Eventually.

[lovelybucky1]

rivals/enemies to lovers Anakin fic and their tension is 10000000x high all the time like😫😫😫

thank you for the ask!!! inbox open for cillian murphy and anakin

warnings: gender neutral!reader, pushy anakin, semi-public, mentions of masturbation, inappropriate use of the force, teasing, enemies to lovers, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

Anakin Skywalker might be the most infuriating person you have ever had the misfortune of meeting. The praise he constantly received for his skills during his padawan years combined with the title of "Chosen One" that is often bestowed upon him did terrible things for his ego.

He struts around the temple with so much arrogance that you can practically smell it on him. He's rude and demanding, often making some of the younger Jedi do his bidding just because they listen to him.

If they weren't scared of Anakin, they were bowing at his feet to kiss his boots. Everybody knew what Anakin was capable of, and they treated him like a god because of it. But not you.

To you, Anakin was nothing but a spoiled brat in an adult's body. He tried to enchant you, to get you under the same spell he had everyone else under, but you refused. You could recognize talent, but you would rather die than contribute to his inflated ego.

For some reason, your refusal to kiss his ass made Anakin obsessed with you. He knows you hate him, you make it obvious. Anakin has taken this hatred as a challenge; he wants to break your resolve.

Anakin is like a fly, always buzzing around your head at the least opportune times. During training, he always volunteers to be your partner. He always sits next to you at meals and during meditation. While meditating, he invades your mind just to pester you some more. At night, he appears in your dreams and you wake up pissed off at him.

This is a game to Anakin. One you despise with your entire being, but its one he never seems to tire of. It's escalated a bit over time; at first it was just teasing jibes and general annoyance, but now his remarks have a flirtatious edge to them and that makes you even angrier.

"If you were that desperate to get into my arms, you just had to ask," Anakin smirks as he looks down at where you fell against his chest. Training with Anakin is never easy, he plays dirty just so he can get you into positions such as these.

"Get the fuck off of me," you huff, pushing him away.

"What's got you in such a bad mood?" he asks, knowing full well that it's him that has you so irritated.

"One of life's greatest mysteries," you say as you get back into a fighting stance.

Training technically ended an hour ago, but Anakin kept taking you down and you couldn't leave without a victory.

"Come on, you can tell me. I can keep a secret."

You run at him, extending your foot to kick him in the shoulder but he grabs your ankle and flips you over, sending you falling face down onto the mat. You grunt when you hit the floor and roll onto your back, only to find Anakin standing over you, looking impossibly tall.

"You're my fucking problem."

You get up, swatting Anakin's hand away when he offers it to you.

"Me? What have I done to you?" he asks.

Catching him off guard, you hook your ankle around the back of his knee and bring him to the ground. He could have fought back, but he goes down easily. You stand in front of him as he kneels in front of you, not looking any less smug despite his position.

“Why do you continue to train with me if you hate me so much?” he asks.

“You choose me, asshole.”

“I don’t force you to be my partner. You could have anyone you wanted.”

You glare down at him. “I like beating the shit out of you.”

“Have you ever beat me?” he asks with a smirk. “Y’know, sometimes I get a feeling that you like me.”

“Like you?”

“Yeah. You’re always hanging around me, you dream about me, you even think about me when you meditate. That sounds a little like obsession to me.” He walks forward a bit on his knees so he’s close enough to rest his cheek against your thigh, and for some reason you don’t stop him.

“Those are all things you do, Anakin. You put those thoughts in my head.”

Anakin chuckles. “Maybe so, but I know you also think about me at night,” he rises to his feet, once again towering over you. “in bed, under the covers when you can’t get to sleep.”

You gasp, trying to cut it off before he notices but it’s too late. Anakin is close, too close, his chest mere inches away from yours.

“I didn’t put those thoughts in that pretty head. That’s all you. Your desire,” he takes ahold of your wrists and pins them at your sides. “Your dirty secrets.” His gaze is intense and it makes you want to squirm away from it.

“You’re a fucking pig,” you spit, trying to wrestle your way out of his hold but there’s no use.

“And you can’t admit what you want,” he says. “Come on, you can tell me. I promise I won’t tell a soul.” Somehow Anakin sounds earnest and you feel compelled to confess.

“I don’t like you,” you say.

“I don’t want you to.”

“I hate you.”

“I like it that way.” He looks at you expectantly. “But…?”

“There’s no but, Anakin! I’m not attracted to you,” you huff.

He rolls his eyes and smirks. “How about I tell you some things first, and then it’s your turn?” You give him a blank stare in return; he continues anyway. “I hate you. I think you’re a stubborn little bitch who hates me just because you’re jealous. You’ll never be as powerful as I am, and I know that irks you like nothing else. I hate the way you talk shit about me every chance you get to make yourself feel better. And most of all, I hate the way you pretend you don’t want me to fuck you in all the ways you fantasize about.”

You gape at him, feeling embarrassed and angry that he just exposed you so blatantly. You wrench your arms out of his hold and this time he lets you, which makes you even angrier.

“You fucking-”

“Tell me you don’t want it,” he challenges. You stare back at him. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you.”

There is a moment of silence; Anakin waiting for you to deny and you waiting for him to ridicule you.

Anakin steps forward and grabs your hips, pulling you flush to him. You don’t fight back.

“Nothing to say?”

“Fuck you.”

“You gotta say please if you want it so bad,” he grins.

“I hope you choke.”

In a flash, Anakin has you down on the mat, flat on your back. Your legs are spread and he’s slotted between them, leaning up on his elbows to look at you. His nose is only inches away from yours, and it’s making your blood boil.

“Don’t I feel good on top of you?” He does, and he knows it. “Just say yes, baby. I’ll fuck you right here, just how you like it.”

You grit your teeth. “Yes.”

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Masterlist

Hi! This is so I don't lose track of my fics so far. I thank you all for your kind reviews and reblogs, they make my day. Main is blueredwrites. Feel free to drop your thoughts be it in the form of asks, replies or reblogs. 😉

REQUESTS NOW OPEN! SEE THE RULES HERE

What am I working on?

✨️ Indicates smut.

🪆 Indicates possibly triggering.

🍂 Indicates angst.

🧸 Fluff.

House of the Dragon

Alicent Hightower

Oneshots

Crime and Punishment ✨️🪆

The Queen and you get along wonderfully. After all, the strongest friendships are based on shared interests.

Speak now

Alicent is not too sure of how she feels about you. Or about the fact you just proposed to run away. But she is sure about how she feels about the wedding. 

Cregan Stark

Mini series

Harwin Strong

Seasons of my love

As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

Oneshots

Win some, lose some✨️

Harwin and his wife have a disagreement over communication skills. The end result is exactly as the title says.

Lemon cake ✨️

Harwin’s wife is a tough crowd.

Aegon Targaryen

Oneshots

Daedalus

On the eve of Aegon’s coronation, both of you disappear. Your mother imagines a thousand scenarios. But were you really abducted by him or is it a simple coincidence?

Aemond Targaryen

Mini series

Death in four moves 🪆

Aemond and his new partner explore trusting again after SA.

Death in four moves 🧸

Whatever souls are made of 🍂🧸

MAD

Caught in the crossfire of your familiy's ploys, you never expected to catch the eye of the enemy.

Threads of fate

Muña✨️

In which you find yourself caught in a deadly game of tug of war between two dragons. Daemon, your husband, and Aemond, the man who promises to make you a widow.

Oneshots

Last man on earth ✨️

No one told King Aemond about the Song of Ice and Fire. As the daughter of Rhaenyra, you have one last mission left.

Categorical✨️

Aemond needs to blow off some steam, so you offer to verbally spar with him. 

Last word ✨️

Aemond instructs you on the importance of protecting your virtue.

Push and pull ✨️

You just love riling him up. Especially on his name day.

Bouquet of Violets 🧸🍂

You are happy in your marriage, even if your husband can be quite hellish. It all starts to go wrong when a secret admirer shows up.

The Seamstress ✨️

Prince Aemond is your favorite client.

We light the way

House Hightower does not have dragons, but they have a magic of their own.

No masters or kings🪆

Aemond has issues around sex. The thought of being married to you, an angel, it's not helping.

Unforgivable

Aemond and you are tired of being pawns. Instead of chess, you decide to play draughts.

Young Gods 🪆

History has a way of repeating itself. Ft. Hades! Aemond.

A Challenge

In which you are in a search for identity, and Aemond is in search for a way to prove his superiority to your father. Somehow, both of you find each other.

Daemon Targaryen

Oneshots

Honesty✨️

Daemon seduces his unwilling Lady Wife.

Mirror

Courting. Daemon's version.

Staring back at you✨️

Companion piece to Mirror. You have married Daemon. Now, it is actually time to bed him. You find out you have a few more things in common with your uncle than you thought.

Capital

You think you married the plainest woman on earth, and you look away for one second and suddenly she is not. Typical. At least, for Daemon.

A Thousand Words ✨️

You want to marry him. He wants to fuck you. The two things are not as incompatible as they sound. 

Violent delights 🪆

As a dornish princess, you live by one saying. All is fair in love and war. When Prince Daemon stumbles into your life, you start to reconsider your stance.

Lookalike

Inside the highest tower of the Red Keep, lives a girl with long silver hair...

Bestiary ✨️

Your husband and you do not speak the same language. During your wedding night, you find out that High Valyrian and the Common Tongue pale when compared to the way your bodies allow you to communicate.

Vūjigon ✨️

Companion piece to Bestiary. Daemon has been having sex without love his whole life. It's easy. Marriage should be more of the same, right?

The dragon has three heads ✨️

It's Viserys first day as a King. You and your twin see him off.

You wouldn't believe the things I have done for her ✨️

Daemon lives a dangerous life. You wish you could find a way to protect him, but you are too afraid of guns. Lucky you, Daemon has a plan.

Gold rush ✨️

Your whole life you have been Daemon’s voice of reason. Tonight, you choose to be the impulsive one. 

To conquer

Incest is common amongst Targaryens, Daemon assures you. Unfortunately, Alicent got to you first.

The girl with the pearl necklace ✨️

You marry Daemon to secure an alliance. But surprisingly, you find a haven in him.

Two ships

Two people who do not understand each other, but keep coming back together. Familiar much? It’s the tale you share with your brother, Daemon.

Clad in sea

It is not Harrenhal, what drives Daemon to the Gods Eye. It’s the memories of you and your daughter.

The Brave

A collection of first times with Daemon

Miniseries

Little lamb✨️

After the death of Viserys Targaryen, CEO of Targaryen industries, his heirs get into a legal battle over the validity of the will. It's a terrible time to start fucking your sister's brother in law. So of course, you do just that.

Divine intuition ✨️🪆

My take on modern reader meets Daemon

Threads of Fate

Pyrite✨️

A nefarious plot to place Princess Rhaenys on the Iron Throne leaves you, a handmaid, as the sole witnesses. Deciding to save an innocent life, you find yourself an unlikely protector. But Prince Daemon does not make favors lightly.

Helaena Targaryen

Golden Chains✨️

Helaena isn't yours, but you are always hers

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Oneshots

Baby teeth

Cousins. You love them or you hate them. And Rhaenyra knows exactly how she feels about you.

Three-headed dragon ✨️

Three times Rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. Or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.

Doom of Ghis✨️

You decide to trick a Queen. It doesn't go quite according to plan.

Threads of Fate

Viserys Targaryen (Yuck)

The dragon has three heads ✨️

It's Viserys first day as a King. You and your twin see him off.

Events

Halloween

Useful writing things - Episodes.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 6)

Summary: Sam and Max's plan to get their siblings invited to a party may have worked but Sebastian Monroe is a dangerous man and they may have just put not only their lives but their families at risk too...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 5,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: Uh oh...

_________

Two Weeks Later

Reader POV

“Damn,” said Dean, shaking out his arm after you’d tossed him a football in the backyard. “I’m going to need your arm workout and no, I am not joking.”

“Oh my god, did I tell you the dance choreographer wanted me to learn to do a handstand so I could sing, upside down? I shut that shit down so fast,” you said, Dean gently tossing the ball back to you. 

“I’m sure you could do it. But I don’t blame you for not wanting to,” he said, catching the ball one handed. “Do you get a lot of say in that stuff? Dance moves?”

“That would require me to be able to dance,” you laughed, clasping both arms around the ball when he threw it back.

“She’s right. God awful dancer when it’s not choreographed. Miracle she can fake it as well as she does,” said Eric from the patio table, glancing up from his phone. “It’s four by the way.”

“Ugh. Why’d we say yes to this stupid party?” you asked. Dean shrugged.

“This guy donates a bunch of money to the Wolves charity every year. Plus Emma said it’s not a bad idea to go to a charity event together. Apparently it helps the public not think of me as such a scoundrel.” You tossed him the ball one last time, clasping your hands behind your back.

“I mean you are the big bad playboy corrupting the virtue of the sweet princess of pop,” you said, batting your eyes, twirling your hips. You grinned when he frowned, his eyes like a predator sizing up his prey. “I think the media is right about you. Such a bad influence.”

“Oh keep it up, princess, and I’ll tell them you ain’t innocent in the slightest.”

“Someone put me out of my misery,” groaned Eric, rising to his feet. “I’m getting dressed and going over protocols with the team. We’ll head out at seven.”

“Ain’t it kind of early to get ready?” asked Dean as you tossed him the ball one last time. Eric only laughed and headed inside, Dean cocking his head at you. “I know girls take a long time to get ready but three hours?”

“Shower. Shave. Makeup. Hair. Plus I told Sloane I’d help do her hair and pick out a dress,” you said, Dean humming. “I’m sure there’s a college game on you could watch for awhile.”

“I got some game film I can review,” he said, a heavy sigh in his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, Dean ditching the ball to return it. “It just never ends.”

“You love football, though,” you said, Dean nodding. 

“I do. But every year it’s getting to be more and more. I know you understand the pressure of it all. I just…I’m tired. I want to have more of a life outside my job,” he said, sliding his hands down your arms, taking your hands in his. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, Dean sharing the same sad smile you wore. “Me, I can have less tour dates and not put out an album every single year. I can make more wiggle room for myself. But I know you can’t. And sometimes I worry when I watch you play, pushing your body so hard.”

“I’m incredibly lucky I’m the least sacked QB in the league. I’ve had only one surgery and that was cause I broke my toe like an idiot on a coffee table. I don’t want to be like these guys that stay in too long and wind up with so much pain at forty. Or worse.” 

“I guess the thing to ask yourself is, do you want to keep going? Or could you walk away and be satisfied?” you asked. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. 

“All I know is I used to put my head down, bury myself in the game. All I looked forward to was getting to the season, the start of a game, feeling that rush. This year…I’m looking forward to being done with work and games way too much. It’s like I’d rather be somewhere else…with someone else,” he murmured.

You nodded, squeezing his hands. “Nothing to decide today.”

“I know. Go get ready. I can occupy myself for a few hours.”

“Damn,” you said when it was nearly seven. Sloane looked down at herself alarmed, glancing back worried. “Sloane, you’re fucking hot.”

“I’m forty two,” she scoffed, smoothing out the floor length gown. “I’m not hot.”

“Hell yeah you are,” you said, Sloane tucking a strand of freshly curled hair behind her ear. “Eric’s going to fucking drool.”

“He better not,” she mumbled, taking a breath as she put her leg up on a chair and hiked the skirt portion up. She opened up her clutch sat on the end of the bed and slapped a very small thigh holster on her right leg, a smaller than usual gun inside. 

“Right. Cause really hot women packing heat are total turn offs for him,” you said, adjusting the strap that ran across your shoulder. She pouted and you handed her the clutch. “You said you could work with him tonight. We’re only bringing two of you inside and we wanted our best.”

“I can. He’s good about not speaking about anything but strictly work lately,” she said, sitting on the bed. “Does he seem…different to you?”

You knew why she was asking. Eric had told you he needed a few hours a week off for therapy a few weeks back. You practically jumped for joy that he was going to get some help to work through some things. Then it all shattered when he said it was related to his dad and needing to address some stuff he did to him as a kid. He didn’t share more but you had a feeling that had as much impact on him as his days in the military, probably more.

“It’s hard to tell with him,” you said, trying to respect his privacy. Plus, it actually was difficult to see a difference. Eric held everything close to the chest. Sometimes too much.

“Yeah. There’ll be no issues working together this evening,” she said, forcing a smile. You wanted to offer some reassurance that he was trying and maybe someday things between them could change. But honestly, you had no clue if they would work things out.

“Good. Well, let’s go see the boys.” A moment later you were coming down the stairs, Dean and Eric wandering out from the front hall in their tuxedos. Eric had always looked handsome when he dressed up but Dean?

He was walking sin in the tailored outfit, showing off his large shoulders and trim waist. You could feel the heat in your cheeks when he stared like he wanted to devour you then and there.

“Wow,” said Dean, a growing smile on his face, eyeing you up and down. It was a fairly simple dress. Black. One shoulder and a thin strap on the other. Form fitting up top before it became loose at the hips. It probably didn’t match black tie standard one hundred percent but it’d been sitting in your closet for two years and you finally had an excuse to wear it.

“Wow yourself,” you said, tugging on the lapel of his jacket. “Put you in one of these and you’d never imagine you spend literally every single day in flannels, henleys, and black tees.”

“Strange considering I’ve seen you wearing those clothing items a lot more yourself lately,” he teased, grinning down like a cat staring at the mouse it’d cornered.

“Oh, just a coincidence,” you said, Eric clearing his throat. You rolled your eyes, getting a roll in return. “You look nice too, Eric. I know you need the compliment on your appearance or your ego will bust.”

“Why did I take this job,” he mumbled to himself, staring at Sloane as she walked ahead for the front door. “You look beautiful.”

Sloane stopped dead in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at him, his gaze shooting to you. 

“I know you’ve wanted to wear that dress for awhile,” he said to you, Sloane rolling her eyes and walking outside. Eric closed his eyes when she was gone, Dean slapping his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’m sure my hyper observant protection agent didn’t catch the way you said that straight to her face and then pretended to say it to your boss.” Eric shrugged him off and grumbled on his way outside, harshly pulling the door behind him. “Damn. I was hoping they’d have some kind of fairytale moment or shit. He looked like he wanted to fuck her over the kitchen table.”

“I don’t know. We’ll just…wait and see what happens,” you said, holding out your hand. “Ready to go?”

“One sec,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. He slipped something elastic over your wrist, beaming when you stared down at it to find it was a friendship bracelet, like the kind from when you were kids. This one was black, gray and white, the LA Wolves colors. You turned it over when you felt a few square beads, expecting to see DEAN.

Your heart skipped when you saw MAX with a few beads separating it from SAM. You glanced up Dean, his green eyes flittering down to where he’d removed his jacket, right sleeve pushed up. 

Dean had always had Sam’s initials tattooed on his forearm. You remember that happened at some point in college, not too long after Sam went missing. The initials right below it were new though, his skin tinged a light pink from where the tattoo was still fresh.

“Is that-”

“Max’s initials? Yeah, looks like it,” he said, a coy smile crossing his face. You held out a finger, Dean humming it was alright to touch. A thick swallow was audible as you traced over the delicate skin, black ink soaked into the creamy canvas of his body.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, Dean’s face falling.

“Sweetheart, I’m-” he said as he wiped at your eyes, mascara coming away on the back of your hand. You laughed, shaking your head at him.

“Look what you did you sweet man,” you laughed, a few tears falling free. “Dean, you didn’t have to put his name on your body.”

“Brothers go on the arm. It’s kind of my thing,” he said, your bottom lip wobbling as a swell of emotion hit you. “Are you mad?”

“No,” you croaked out, squeezing your bracelet. “I wish they were with us.”

“Me too,” he said softly, wiping his thumb under your eye, stopping a tear from falling. “Y/N.”

You met his green eyes, thumb stroking your cheek with a barely there touch.

“You understand you’re my girl, right?” You nodded, Dean’s head tilting slightly, eyes scanning down to your lips slowly and back up just as lazily. “So. Am I yours?”

You held a finger to his lips and turned towards the front door, pulling it open, Eric and Sloane both leaned against an SUV.

“We’ll leave in thirty,” you said, pulling the door shut again, finding Dean with a raised eyebrow. “I need ten to fix my makeup. The other twenty is to show you exactly how much you’re mine.”

Dean POV

I stepped outside while Y/N used the bathroom, the brisk air doing wonders for cooling me down after what I could only describe as the most intimate handjob I’d ever received. It was the one thing that stuck out to me about sex with Y/N. Every other partner I’d had, it was about release, pleasure. With Y/N though, it felt different. A good different. Yeah, it was about the pleasure there too but it was…comforting in a way, joined together. 

Once Y/N had let go of her fear of it, intimacy turned out to be one of her favorite things in the world. And it was becoming one of mine too. She just made me feel safe. Whole again.

“Told you she’d cry about the tattoo,” mumbled Eric in my ear, hands clasped behind his back. “Surprised you didn’t get down on one knee yet.”

“We understand what we are to each other,” I said, adjusting the sleeve of my jacket. “The time for that’ll come eventually but I don’t think either one of us is in a rush to get there.”

“Ready!” exclaimed Y/N, rushing outside barefoot, the skirt of her dress bunched up in one hand, heels in the other. “How late are we?”

“Oh, only forty five minutes,” said Eric, Y/N jumping in the backseat when he opened the door. “Clutch?”

“I’m the purse tonight,” I chuckled, patting my pocket where her phone, a lipstick and extra hair tie resided. 

“Good. I usually get stuck with it,” said Eric, patting my bottom. “Let’s move it kiddos.”

“Hopefully this party doesn’t suck,” said Y/N beside me as we drove up a long driveway thirty minutes later, lips pursed.

“You hate parties,” Eric chuckled from the passenger seat.

“I hate parties where people ask me to sing at their kid’s sweet sixteen which is like, almost all the time,” she said, my hand reaching over and interlacing our hands together. “Sorry. That sounded bitchy.”

“It sounded like that’s really annoying to have happen all the time,” I said, the car slowing down behind another luxury SUV. “We won’t stay long, just a few hours. I know we have to do this for me.”

“Hey,” she said, voice firm. My eyes flickered to hers in the dark space. “We both have more money than we know what to do with. I’m perfectly happy to waste an evening if it means sending some of that money to a good cause. You getting some good press out of it is a bonus.”

“I ever tell you how wonderful you are?” I asked, heart swelling up as she blushed. “Want to go show off your reformed bad boy, sweetheart?”

“You were never bad,” she said, pecking a kiss on my lips. She grinned goofily and wiped them off with her thumb. “Lipstick.”

“You can take it off if you promise to put it back later,” I said, Y/N’s eyes flirting down to my groin, a wicked smirk on her face. “Down girl.”

“I’ll play with you later,” I said as we stopped. Eric slid out of the passenger seat as I opened the back door. I exited and held out a hand, helping Y/N down in her obnoxious skinny little heels. They looked like a death trap to me but she danced around on stage for three hours in them so if anyone knew how to work them, it was her.

Damn she was sexy in that dress. Almost as sexy as those red flannel pajama pants she wore last night. And that cozy blue sweater on Thursday. Or that-

“Stop staring at her,” said Sloane, pushing on my back so I’d move and she could slip out of the backseat. “You’re like a puppy obsessed with her.”

“Be nice,” Y/N chided, taking a step forward, letting me follow her lead. Eric and Sloane fell in place behind us, the driver staying with the car and driving off towards where the cars were being parked. 

A man in a nice suit opened the front door for us, revealing a grand hall that made Y/N’s house look like a starter home. 

“This guy is loaded,” I whispered in Y/N’s ear as we found ourselves quickly surrounded by people when they caught sight of her. There must have been three hundred people at this thing.

“Here we go,” she mumbled before putting on a big smile, immediately getting asked to be in a selfie with a woman in her twenties.

For the next thirty minutes it felt like we were bombarded, stuck not ten feet past the door in a never ending line of people wanting to talk to Y/N. Yes, some people were football fans but a vast majority were there for Y/N, some nervous, some practically jumping out of their skins.

“Damn dude, you’re beyond lucky,” said some guy to me as his wife took a picture with Y/N. 

“I know I am,” I responded, Y/N giving me a flash of a smile.

“She needs a break,” whispered Eric in my ear. I stepped forward and cut off the next gaggle of women that wanted to approach. 

“Excuse me, I need to steal Y/N for a minute,” I said, taking her arm and leading her down the large open hall.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a glass of champagne off a servers tray. She knocked it back and I started to scan the room in search of water for her.

“Hi,” said a teenage girl in a light blue dress, approaching slowly. She seemed out of place at the event filled with adults in designer clothes. “I’m Cecilia Monroe, Sebastian Monroe’s daughter.”

Ah she was this guys kid. That made sense. “Nice to meet you. We haven’t met your father yet. We’d like to thank him for his numerous donations to the Wolves charity over the years.”

“You have a lovely home,” said Y/N, the girl blushing, clasping her hand over her wrist in a failed attempt to hide her friendship bracelet. Y/N caught it and smiled. “Did you go to the tour this year?”

“Uh yeah. My dad got VIP tickets,” she said shyly, suddenly straightening her back. “I’ll be on the veranda. Please come find me when you’re through with my dad. It’s very important.”

She scuttled away, Y/N raising an eyebrow.

“I think you have a superfan,” I chuckled, Y/N biting her lip. “You think she’s a problem?”

“No. She’s a fan clearly but I don’t know,” she said, waving for Eric and Sloane to join us from where they stood together by a table of appetizers. 

“You two good?” asked Sloane, their eyes finding the young girl and watching her leave.

“Keep an eye on that girl,” Y/N said, nodding as Cecilia went through open back doors outside. They both readied themselves but Y/N shook her head. “Just watch her. This might be a Denver situation.”

“Denver?” I asked, Eric frowning. 

“Fan in Denver was being abused by her parents. Subtly asked Y/N for help at an event. Smart kid actually,” said Eric. “Sloane and I can try a soft approach with the girl, get a feel for if something is up, relay we can keep her safe .”

“This guy does have a lot of private security,” said Sloane. “If something’s happening, she may feel safer knowing we can protect her in the interim.”

“Let’s go talk to the girl,” said Y/N just as a man in a very nice suit came striding down the hall towards us. “I think that’s our host.”

“Eric, Sloane, go see what’s up. We can fend for ourselves for awhile,” I said. They scuttled away as the man greeted us, holding out a hand and shaking mine firmly.

“Sebastian Monroe,” he said with a pleasant enough smile. “And you two are the power couple my teenage daughter will not stop talking about.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot. We said hello to her earlier,” said Y//N with a fake smile, staying close to my side when the men looked like he was going to reach for her hand. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Dean Winchester,” I said, taking my hand back, the other wrapped around Y/N’s waist. The man only smiled though, like we didn’t need to introduce ourselves. “I’ve heard you’re a Wolves fan.”

“Oh not anymore than anyone else,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Although a signed jersey by you would certainly go for big bucks at our next charity auction.”

“We’ll have to make that happen for sure,” I said, not enjoying the way his gaze traveled down Y/N’s body. I’d seen it plenty of times tonight but his seemed the most sleazy of all. 

“Speaking of the auction, where are the tables? I’d love to donate,” said Y/N.

“Right side of the veranda, sweetie.” Y/N hummed, giving me a look to join her as soon as I could. “Boy, if I was ten years younger.”

I couldn’t hide my annoyance, Sebastian flashing me a smile. “Oh no. Please go ahead and tell me what you’d do if you were ten years younger.”

“Easy kid. Half the population would bone her if they could,” he said, sipping from the glass in his hand. He took his turn to eye me, a curious look on his face. “You know, I could be inclined to offer another sizeable donation to the Wolves charity for those kids if I could get one of those signed jerseys myself.”

I bit my tongue, both of us aware of the clear message. Refuse and good ol’ Sebastian stops donating a million dollars each year to kids in poverty.

“I’m sure you got one around here somewhere we could fix up,” I said. Sebastian threw an arm over my shoulder and I hide my cringe. 

“Good man. Come on. I got one right in my game room.”

Reader POV

There wasn’t really anything you wanted from the silent auction but you had found a general donation slip at the end of the table and jotted down your agent’s information. You’d looked around for Eric and Sloane or the girl when you finished but hadn’t found any of them which probably wasn’t a good sign. You frowned and walked over the railings edge, looking around the dim yard for any sign of them.

“Bruschetta?” asked one of the servers. 

“No thank you,” you said without looking.

“I must insist,” he said. You rolled your eyes, ready to give it to this guy but something seemed familiar about him. He handed you one on a small napkin as you kept staring. “Take a bite and smile, pretend it’s really good.”

You’d had more than a handful of dangerous fan interactions over the years but this felt…different.

You did as he asked, faking wide eyes at the average at best food. “Who are you?”

“Do not make a scene,” he said as you finished off the food. “I need to get to your bodyguards.”

“Are you trying to protect that girl? Cecilia?” you asked as you played along and took another piece off the tray.

“What? No. I don’t have time for this,” he said, stepping in front of you, your gaze narrowing. “Do not ask questions. Just get me and Max the fuck out of here.”

“Max?” Your heart skipped a beat, the food falling from your hand as you understand where you’d seen him before. “Y-You’re Sam.”

“We’re watched. Get your guards to get us out. Don’t get caught or we’re dead,” he said, turning away and offering a couple nearby food from his tray. You swallowed, instantly putting on your performer’s smile. The one you wore that time you had food poisoning during a concert and were throwing up between songs back in the summer. The crowd had no fucking clue you felt like shit while you gave them the show of their lives.

Time to act your fucking ass off. 

You walked past Sam without a second glance, wishing you could ask him all the questions swirling around in your head. Tell him he was going to be okay. Give him a damn hug and tell him he was safe now.

But you wore that damn smile, all while your blood was boiling. You’d had a lot of dark fantasies about what you’d do to the person that took Max. In recent weeks that’d turned to include Sam too. 

It turned out the monster was a hundred feet away from you inside some fucking mansion.

“Y/N,” said Sloane, appearing through a set of open doors in the house, catching your arm a little roughly. “Stay in public.”

“I need to talk-” She shot daggers at you, shutting you up. 

“Stay in public for the love of god or Eric will kill me,” she said, loosening her grip. “In forty five seconds I need you to be the biggest distraction in the world. Do not go in any rooms with anyone. Your fame will keep you safe but only if there are people around to witness it. Eric has eyes on him. Do not ask questions. Understand?”

“Sam’s on the veranda,” you whispered, Sloane nodding. Cecilia must have told her and Eric about your brothers.

“Go give us a shot to get them out of here.” You nodded and slipped inside, heart thumping away in your throat. Max was with with Eric. Wherever he was, he was with Eric. He was safe. And Sam should have been with Sloane by then. They were both safe.

As long as they got them out of this house and into the damn car before anyone could notice. Before all those private security guards seemingly on the edge of every room could stop them. Your driver was fast though. They just had to get the boys in the car and they’d be alright.

So you needed to be a distraction. A big fucking distraction and buy them time. You froze in the middle of the hallway, watching Sebastian leave a room with Dean by his side, horribly annoyed from the looks of it. An idea sparked in your mind, one you hoped Dean forgave you for someday. 

Yeah, you knew how to cause a big fucking distraction alright.

Dean POV

“You son of a bitch!” screamed Y/N. Normal people could scream loud. A goddamn professional singer that could belt out ballads while running? The whole house went silent at her ear piercing shriek. Even the string orchestra stopped playing. I stared at her as she climbed on top of a table in the center hall, my eyes going wide. “You fucking cheater! You’re a fucking cheater Dean Winchester!”

“Excuse me?” I said, a hundred already with their phones out with even more people piling into the house from the veranda. “Sweetheart-”

“Don’t sweetheart me!” she screamed again. What the fuck was happening? “You’re a cheating bastard! You swore you were different!”

“Y/N, get off the table,” I said gently, very aware of the many phones that were facing us, even some from the freaking staff and private event security. Y/N only backed away when I reached for her, fury in her eyes so visceral it felt like it burned. “Y/N what-”

“I know what you did with her! By the fucking cherry blossoms? Our cherry blossoms? You think you can sleep around on me? I’m the motherfucking Princess of Pop! The world fucking loves me!” 

Something was wrong. Besides the fact I hadn’t cheated, Y/N wasn’t one to scream at people from tabletops. She wasn’t drunk and she wasn’t on drugs. And we had no fucking cherry blossoms. Except for the fact it was the code to get in her house. 

Trust. She was asking me to fucking trust her right now in front of three hundred people while she tore down my reputation.

If my girl was losing her shit, well damn I was going to play right along.

“Oh get off your high fucking horse!” I shouted, Y/N flinching for a brief moment like it’d stung. “I never made you promises. We aren’t even fucking exclusive!”

“What?!” she shouted back as Sebastian came over, clearing his throat.

“Perhaps if you two could-”

“This bitch is a moron for thinking I’d ever want someone like her. Of course I’m dicking around with you! You really think I want some goodie two shoes like you?”

“Man whore!” she shouted.

“Fucking prude!” I screamed back, praying to god Y/N knew that every word out of my mouth was a lie. “No wonder no one wants to date you. Getting in your pants wasn’t even worth it!”

“Funny since getting in yours just takes a smile. I’m surprised you haven’t contracted every disease known to man you pig!”

“At least I get some! You’re wound up so tight surprised anything can fucking fit up there!” Fuck, I was really going to hate myself in the morning.

Y/N was halfway through screaming back at me when I felt both my phone and Y/N’s go off in my pocket.

YOUR BROTHERS ARE SAFE. HOST SECURITY KNOWS WE GOT THEM OUT. OUR SECURITY & FEDS ON THE WAY. ETA TEN MINUTES. DON’T TRUST LOCAL COPS. CORRUPTED. HOST IS BAD GUY. STAY AWAY FROM HIM AND GUARDS. DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO TO STAY IN PUBLIC. 

“What the fuck does brothers safe mean?” I asked, tossing my phone to her. Y/N caught it one handed, her whole body relaxing momentarily before tensing again, her rage suddenly on it’s true target.

Sebastian Monroe.

“Our brothers were here,” she grit out. She ripped off her heels and hopped down onto the floor, stalking over to Sebastian slowly like he was her prey. Her face darkened and I swore she looked ready to tear someone’s throat out. “Our baby brothers were in this fucking house! As your servers! Not of their free will! No. No, they were being watched. Forced. Last I checked, our baby brothers were kidnapped and they didn’t get un-fucking kidnapped.”

She gripped her heel tight in her left hand, right clenched so hard I saw the bone against the skin of her knuckles.

“I don’t care if you weren’t the one that took them. But you kept them and I’m going to fucking destroy you for it,” she growled, approaching him as my brain tried to catch up. 

“Y/N what are-”

“I saw Sam! And he was scared and said they’d kill him if he got caught talking to me. They’re safe now but Sam and Max were forced to live here. By him.” Her head turned towards Sebastian, his own head glancing at his security team. “What the fuck did you do to our brothers?”

It clicked for me what she’d been saying, what the text meant, why Y/N had acted so out of character. So full of hatred. But I barely had a chance to feel that same hatred. 

Because in the blink of an eye, one of Sebastian’s guards grabbed at Y/N and her fist shot out, connecting with the man’s jaw. He seemed alarmed at her strength and fell back, another guard trying to get their hands on her.

“Get off!” she shouted, kneeing another guy before flipping him on his back. But there were too many of them and I rushed forward, yanking her behind me just as Sebastian got in my face.

He eyed me up and down, smirking at me. “Oh you two just made a big mistake.”

He clasped his hands together loudly as his guards surrounded us, turning his attention to the rest of the party.

“Let’s give the love birds some privacy to sort out their issues,” he chuckled. “And maybe keep an eye on the open bar, hm?”

He spun back around and leaned in close, the stench of cigars and alcohol on his breath. 

“Get your brothers back here or I’ll fuck her up so badly there won’t be anything left to bury.” He gripped my shoulder, too forcefully. “And then I’ll bury you alive in the woods all the while the world will think you got in a drunken accident on the way home. After all you had a very loud and public argument tonight. With the friends I have in certain positions of authority…I can make even you two disappear like nothing.”

Y/N gripped the back of my suit jacket tight, a slight tremble in her hand as she listened to him speak.

“Get those boys back and get those guards back in the next ten minutes or I start cutting off pieces of the damn princess of pop.”

________

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

[draculasfavoritewife]

Wild Honey

Summary: Gale is one stubborn son of a bitch, but if anyone could get him to open up, it's always been you.

Pairing: Gale Hawthorne x fem!District 12!Reader

Warnings: ANGST. Idiots miscommunicating and falling out. Heavy tension, sensuality, and implied smut at the end. Also by far the most sexually charged eating scene I have ever yet written, SO sorry everyone, that really deserves its own separate disclaimer lmao. Ye have been warned.

I would like to preface this by saying I know Gale stans sometimes receive hate, and while I do not condone his more problematic actions, I do deeply understand why he is the way he is -- most of my favorite characters in any franchise have done morally challenging things, but I will always fall in love with a survivor, and most times in dystopian fiction survival is messy and comes at the cost of someone else's. It is also worth mentioning that I was watching Hunger Games during one of the most difficult periods of my life a year ago, when a loved one's life was hanging in the balance and Gale became the comfort character I turned to in order to cope. He will always hold a particularly fond place in my heart 🖤

tl;dr -- If you don't like Gale Hawthorne, feel free to not read. No reason to be mean to anyone :)

*Takes place during Catching Fire

He hasn’t been the same since she came back.

That much is clear to anyone two degrees north of blindness. But it could be anything, really. His work in the mines is draining on both body and soul, the added responsibility of being the Everdeen family’s sole provider as well as his own would exhaust anyone.

Yet Gale Hawthorne is probably the only one who could still be standing tall at this point, his proud stride never faltering, shoulders broad enough to hold up all of Panem if he had to. 

The man’s just tired, people say.

Tired and angry at the world, let him be. 

What else is new?

Gale has been wearier than a young man should be and angrier than most could know for as long as you’ve been part of his life.

It’s not that. 

No, it’s the sadness darkening his gray-blue eyes and the new tightness in his full lips that you see setting in whenever he looks at her. Whenever her eyes dart away to seek out Peeta’s instead, or stare straight through him at the phantoms of horrors he would never quite understand. You see him reaching out more often, trying anything and everything to bridge the yawning rift that has opened up between him and Katniss ever since her return, and see how with each misplaced gesture, every time he tries to be soft, another piece of him turns to stone inside. 

And it breaks you, to watch and know you can do absolutely nothing about it. 

You’re surprised to find him hunting alone the next time you go out beyond the fence; you would have assumed she was with him as she usually is. You’ve known Gale at least as long as she has, but perhaps the fact that you don’t rely on him for sustenance has made the two of you less likely to travel together.

And besides, whatever complicated relationship the two of them had, you had never wanted to insert yourself into that mess. 

But for whatever reason, today he is alone, anger and something deeper sharply visible in the movements of his nimble fingers as they field-dress a wild turkey on the floor of the small clearing you’ve emerged into, his brow furrowed and mouth harsh. 

You say nothing for several minutes as you pull your bow and quiver from their stash, testing the pull of the string, fiddling with a crooked fletching on one of your arrows. Your relationship has always been different from what he has with Katniss — you would be lying if you said you weren’t sometimes jealous of how much time she gets him to herself, but you also doubt that he talks to her the way he does to you.

There are pros and cons to not needing him in the same ways. 

“What?” he snaps when you’ve stood there too long; he knows you’re too efficient to need that much time to prepare your gear. 

You shoulder your bow, staring down at those heavy eyebrows, long ebony lashes, and the rainy-sky eyes that are still stubbornly avoiding yours.

“I don’t know, Gale. You tell me.” 

He sighs, long and annoyed. “You’re gonna stand there all day if I don’t, aren’t you.” 

You give a noncommittal noise and make a show of leaning against a tree to keep watch for Peacekeepers while he finishes his work. 

The thanks you get for that is little more than a grunt. “Well don’t get comfortable, I’m almost done. And keep up — I still need more than this or we’ll have a lean few days.” 

“When have I ever not kept up with you, Hawthorne?” You raise your eyebrows at him, playfully miffed. 

There it is, the cocky smirk that pulls one corner of his pretty mouth slightly higher than the other. “That a challenge, Spark?” 

You roll your eyes in mock disdain of the nickname he’s used forever (“because you’re small, but I know you’ve got a blaze in there somewhere” he’d half-teased). “Why, are you gonna try and run away from me?” 

It’s his turn to shrug. “How badly do you want to talk, I guess?” He’s loading the bird’s carcass into his satchel, wiping off his hunting knife and preparing to head out. 

A quick grab and you’ve shouldered the bag instead, ensuring he can’t abandon you now without also abandoning his prize. “Pretty damn badly, I guess.” 

Gale huffs a breath out through his nose. “God, you’re stubborn.” 

“Look who’s talking.” You brush past him, aiming for a deer trail that takes you through some hidden haunts that usually yield rabbits and even some bigger game on occasion. “Now come on, spill. You’ve been acting more pissed than usual, and that’s saying something.” 

“Hm. Very funny.” He easily lifts his own hunting gear once more and falls into step behind you. “Hunt first. Talk later. I’ll be even more pissed if we scare off our dinner.” 

You turn and give him a brisk nod, grinning to yourself when you face forward again. 

It may not sound like much, but that was practically a promise that he will talk to you eventually. 

And you’re nothing if not patient enough to outlast him. 

The times the two of you have hunted together, your ambition and his tenacity tend to be a deadly combination, and as luck would have it, a rare buck deer had crossed your path today, resulting in an even more substantial promise of survival than the turkey. As the two of you worked quickly to prepare the carcass for packing it out, you could feel the tension ebbing away between you, could tell by the way Gale’s strong shoulders relaxed and his jaw unclenched that the immediate worry of ensuring his mother and younger siblings had enough to eat this week had faded.

He would never say as much out loud, but you know it keeps him up at night when they do go hungry, can imagine how he must pace the floors of his house at night, cursing himself for falling short of the herculean standards that the loss of his father set upon him.

He should be able to sleep somewhat peacefully tonight, knowing they will survive another day thanks to him. 

“That was a good shot,” he says after a while of working in silence, and there’s a deep-running warmth threaded through his tone. “You really slowed him down.” 

You shove his shoulder, making him laugh and then scold you for jostling him with a knife in his hands. “Not so shabby on that killing shot yourself, Hawk-eyes. You’ll have food for awhile.” 

“You’re not getting away without some of it,” he insists. “It’s as much yours as mine.” 

And because you know refusing Gale an act of service is a surefire way to start an argument and guarantee his sullen silence again, you agree that you’ll take a sizable portion back to your family when the two of you head back. Placated for the time being, he finally lets his tongue run — about how he’s managing in the mines, what his siblings have been up to, how even in the midst of his exhaustion, he still lives for the end of the work week when he can escape to the forest again. There are new themes of thought that surface and submerge like fish between his words, murmurs of rebellion, thoughts of standing up to the Capitol at last, but they are hushed and quickly moved on from. 

No matter how much you might support him, he doesn’t want to worry you too much yet. 

“What about you and Katniss?” you finally prod, trying to ignore the familiar jolt of envy that tastes so sour on your tongue whenever you say their names together in the same breath. 

He stills; when his eyes flicker up to yours again they’re guarded and cold. “What about me and Katniss?” 

“Well, she’s conspicuously not here with you.” You flick flyaway hairs away from your face in irritation, the damp air making them cling to your skin. “Don’t be like that, Gale. I’ve been your friend long enough to not deserve your cagey act anymore. Let me in. Please.” 

He stares up at you for so long from his position kneeling on the forest floor, you standing over him, pleading him with your eyes to let someone else shoulder part of the heavy load he carries for once. And you’re struck by those traitorous thoughts again in the silvery silence — how unreasonably lovely he is, with that sharply angled jawline, and those softly curving lips, that thick dark hair you’ve always secretly wanted to tangle your fingers in as he leans down, your name on his tongue and a teasing glint in his melancholy eyes — 

“I think I made a mistake,” he finally mutters. “I know I can’t understand fully what she’s seen or who she is now, but is it completely wrong of me to just wish things didn’t have to change?” 

The man who means more to you than anything has never looked more lost and uncertain than in this moment of admission, and you sink to your knees in front of him, suddenly overtaken by a wave of softness that takes a second to fully process. “I’m sorry, Gale, I am. We all change, and I know how it feels to wonder if someone still cares or not.” You shake away your own uncertainties you’ve been having ever since she came back and he’s been chasing her attentions around.

“It’s only natural to want to pick up right where you left off, I get it.” 

His gaze sharpens, though the rest of his face remains calculated and unreadable. “Have I been ignoring you lately, Spark?”

It seems like a genuine question, as if running back through the last few months in his mind he now acutely senses your absence from them. 

You reach out, trailing the tips of your fingers ever so lightly down his cheek. The gesture isn’t novel, you’ve used it to comfort him before, especially when you aren’t sure how much physical contact he wants on a given day, but something feels different about it today, some electric shiver passing between you that makes his mouth twitch and causes you to pull your hand away as if shocked. 

“I need you too, Hawk-eyes,” you murmur, almost under your breath. “I need you.” 

To your dismay, the intimate moment abruptly ends; he tears away from the echo of your touch and is on his feet again in an instant, eyes now pale and hard as ice as he smolders down at your upturned face. 

Reeling with confusion and hurt, you try to understand what just happened. “Gale, wait! What did I —?” 

“It’s that damn word,” he half-snarls, but you hear the raw pain bubbling beneath his attempt at anger. “Need. My family needs me, the District needs me, Katniss needs me to be there when she can’t find what she needs from anyone else. Everyone needs me, Spark.” 

You stare wordlessly into his face, silently begging him to help you understand. His eyelashes glimmer with droplets from the mist and maybe something else, the anger draining away as quickly as it had appeared. 

“I would just like to be here because I’m wanted for once.” 

He’s gone in only a handful of long strides, the undergrowth rattling in his wake. 

And you’re left alone in a space all at once too cold and quiet, wondering what the hell it will finally take to make it through those impenetrable walls and at last touch his solitary wounded heart. 

The sun has sunk lower in the sky by the time you find the fallen tree beside the stream and discover its unexpected bounty. You’re not too far from where you left the deer, knowing neither you nor Gale can pack it out by yourself, but far enough away to give him space if he goes back there first. 

He and his prickly attitude leave your thoughts momentarily, however, when you see the bees returning to the gutted form of the dead tree. Where there are bees there might be honey, and your mouth waters at the distant memory of that sweet, energy-filled delicacy. You swiftly fall to the work of building a small, smoky fire and holding the billowing branches underneath their main entrance, waiting for the buzzing to slow and finally fade out before carefully peeling away some of the cracked wood and extracting your prize, leaving a piece behind of course for the hardworking insects to enjoy themselves. 

Wrapping the majority of the honeycomb in leaves that you know are safe to be in contact with food, you settle at last in a spot looking over the water, ready to enjoy a taste of your labors.

Closing your eyes, you let the first drop of sun-warmed sweetness land on your tongue, and the sound of appreciation that escapes your throat is shamelessly suggestive of something else.

So you freeze for a second in horror when Gale’s familiar voice rumbles through your senses. 

“So is this your little secret, or were you planning to share with me?” 

You compose your thudding heart and suddenly hot face, glancing up at where he now towers over you, arms crossed over his broad chest and a wicked smirk on his handsome face. By the high-tilted eyebrow that asks a sensitive question without really asking, he definitely heard you, and he wants you to know that. 

So you hold eye contact with him, even as the thick honey continues to drip down, painting your tongue in cloudy golden shades of wildflower sugar.

And to your gratification, you don’t think you imagine the way his eyes dart away ever so briefly, or how his own tongue runs across his lower lip. 

“I was gonna share,” you finally say, your own voice coming out slow and sticky after swallowing. “But I didn’t know where you’d run off to.” 

“Hm. I’m not convinced.”

He lowers his tall body to the ground beside you, reaching for your piece of honeycomb, and because he seems to have let go of his earlier flash of annoyance, you let him take it, gaze now glued to the entrancing picture of him as he opens his own mouth and lets the sweet amber substance drizzle between his parted lips, tongue lifting to capture any stray drops that threaten to escape. 

“Don’t be selfish,” you tease, but it comes out strangely heavy, and something kindles deep in your chest as his eyes slide sideways to pin themselves to yours.

It’s an oddly incriminating image almost, though you couldn’t name why, to see him stare you down like that with fresh honey glistening on his lips and fingers; he, however, doesn’t seem to feel any such sense of indignity. 

Without a word, he holds the waxy section out once more, his free hand coming up to your face so that his thumb gently coaxes your lips apart again. 

“You want more?” he asks, a silky hum. 

You have no idea if he’s even talking about the honey anymore, but you nod anyway, too breathless at how close he is, how much bigger he is than you. 

So he complies, trickles the comb’s gleaming goodness into your mouth with an intense focus that you can hear in the roughness of his hot breath as it washes across your skin. His chest is inches away from yours, one of his muscular thighs resting between your legs. You’re aware that your own breathing is turning shaky, and you gasp softly when a splash of honey rolls from the corner of your mouth and starts running down your face. 

Gale is quick, but not quick enough, and though his other hand catches some of the rogue rivulet, he can only watch as the rest rolls to your chest, landing on the stretch of exposed skin right at the tops of your breasts, a single drop of gold hovering just above the scooping neckline of your black shirt, daring him to take some sort of action to solve the predicament he has caused. 

His eyes move up from the now very rapid rise and fall of your chest to your widened, startled gaze.

You look like a wild animal he’s surprised on the hunt, and he now finds that he fiercely hopes whatever comes next doesn’t spook you away. 

“Can I?” he whispers, honeycomb now forgotten and set aside. 

You nod your assent, keeping your focus fixed on his face. 

A hand approaches your body with all of the steady patience you’ve seen him exercise when stalking his prey, and the touch of two fingers to the delicate skin below your collarbone is warm and gentle. His hands are beautiful too, broad and long-fingered, the veins that hint at his great strength clearly delineated in the low-slanting sunlight.

You watch like a fascinated outside observer as those work-roughened fingers swipe the honey away, a shiver fluttering across your flesh as you feel the way he smoothly follows the swells of your bust and the dip between. 

He catches the tremor he caused and pulls away, looking back up at your face even as he licks the honey from his fingertips, and you wonder what’s running through his mind, and if it’s nearly as incendiary as what that simple action sends through yours. 

“Alright?” 

It’s a one-word question that leaves his mouth as something like a purr, though you sense the true concern behind it.

He worries he’s gone too far, and he’d never forgive himself if he pushed you into anything you didn’t want, no matter how small. 

He cares about you too much for that. 

“Yes.” You blink and gather your scattered thoughts. “Better than alright. Gale…?” 

He leans even closer, bringing your faces only a mere breath apart.

The blue-gray eyes have gone as feathery soft as mist in the early morning, and the sight makes your chest ache with something you cannot quite name. 

“You didn’t get all of it. I’m still sticky.” 

Gale searches your expression for confirmation, wary of his next move. “You know what you’re asking?” 

Your hands are on his chest now, and you can feel that despite his much more outwardly collected demeanor, his heart is beating just as hard as yours. 

“I want your help,” you tell him firmly, and you feel the way that simple word, want, finally pierces his armor, makes him twitch like the bite of a gnat. 

So he bends down, and the moment his mouth connects with your chest, time stops. 

It’s a lightning strike, crackling through your entire body. 

His lips are cool, chilled by the evening air, and they’re every bit as perfect as you’ve always imagined. You could stay there forever in the mesmerizing trap of his kiss, but the addition of his sultry tongue, sweeping a slow track along the path his fingers had gone only a few minutes before, is what fully unravels you, sending his name from your own mouth in a whine and prompting one of your hands to slide up his neck and into his hair — and it, too, is everything you’ve dreamed of, dense and wild and begging to be tamed by your grasping desperation. He growls in surprise at the unexpected sensation of your fingernails, but you feel rather than hear it, the vibrations of his voice thrumming deep inside your body. 

You know the entire exchange must only take a few minutes, but it seems like an eternity that he’s there, sucking the honey trail from your skin, his still-sticky fingers leaving behind more prints that he also endeavors to remove. You pull his body closer to yours, until it seems you breathe one breath, share one heartbeat as he rocks you back and forth with the barely restrained desire to push you over until he can cover you completely. 

But it can be deadly to lose concentration in the woods, especially so close to nightfall, and regretfully the pair of you pull away in unspoken agreement, staring at each other and trying to understand fully what just happened. 

“We should get a move on,” Gale finally huffs. “That deer won’t carry itself.” 

Temperamental, taciturn Gale.

Always concerned with the practical side of things. 

No more words are exchanged between the two of you as you pack up the day’s yield and slip back into the somewhat relative safety of the Seam. The meat is stored away at Gale’s house (he knows you’ll come back for your share, or else he’ll find you and force you to take it) and at last there is really nothing more left to do, so you step out the door and into the lengthening shadows. 

When you look back, however, he’s still standing there in the doorframe, and there’s a tentative curiosity written across his face, a reluctance to have this be goodnight and goodbye until his next free day. 

And you could lie and say you don’t feel the same way, but you and Gale have never lied to each other. 

“What?” you tease, echoing his demand of much earlier. 

He opens his mouth, then closes it again and shrugs helplessly. “I…I don’t know, Spark. Where do you want…this…to go?” 

You ponder that, taking in the familiar sight of him with warm fondness. He looks tired, shoulders slouched and face smudged with gray dust from the mines, but there’s something different there tonight, a fragile hope behind his resting sullen expression, some aura about him that pleads with you not to leave him alone tonight. 

Even a man as strong as Gale Hawthorne has his limits. 

So you give in to temptation. 

“The washtub at my house is bigger, you know. And we both could use a hand cleaning up.” 

He steps down from the threshold to follow you back to your home. 

You know what you’re really offering to him. 

And so does he. 

When you wake with first light, he’s already long gone. Only the dip in the other side of your worn mattress remains to suggest another body was actually there. 

You’re not surprised, and not really hurt. He has his job to get back to, after all, a family to feed and a whole village to look after. But you wonder briefly, after having watched him fall asleep with his arms wrapped around you and his face hidden in your chest, long eyelashes leaving butterfly kisses against your flesh, what it would be like to watch him wake up, too. 

You imagine his eyes are even prettier then, hazy with sleep and not yet hardened to withstand the day’s toils ahead. 

Last night feels like a strange dream of lukewarm water and skin on skin, sporadically interspersed with starkly clear images of his well-muscled form and those clever hands traveling across the width and breadth of yours. When you close your eyes you can still feel his heavy weight on top of you, pressing you deeper into the mattress, and you feel oddly empty and untethered now in its absence.

Only the dark blossoms his mouth left behind on your body and a selection of new — but not unpleasant — aches tells you that what you shared was in fact as real as this morning. 

What it means going forward, you don’t know. 

But you don’t regret a single moment of it. 

As you dress and prepare to head out for the day, your mother’s voice calls you into the main room. “One of the younger Hawthorne children brought you something — said it’s from your friend.” 

You see it there on the table, a folded scrap of rough paper and a single daisy, still fresh enough to mean he probably cut it on his way back to his house. 

A small smile creeps across your lips as you unfold the note. 

Spark — 

I don’t want this to be just a one-time thing. At least, not if you feel that way too. 

Sorry I had to go. I wish I could have stayed. 

You may not need me to survive, but you made me realize something. 

I need you. 

— Gale 

Hastily re-folding the paper, you tuck it away into your shirt pocket, close to your heart. 

Stubborn Gale Hawthorne. 

He’d never been much of a talker, so you know just how much those simple three words at the end of his message really mean. 

For the man who needs no one to admit he can’t go on without you?

He might as well rival the old poets in their epic declarations of love. 

Gale is much like the wild honey that started all of this, you realize, as you snatch a piece of the comb on your way out into the harsh world beyond. Once you manage to get past his defensive sting, there are so many intoxicating flavors to taste within. 

And whatever he still needs to work out with Katniss…. 

He doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing. 

[porcelainseashore]

Coffee & Secrets (5)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.

Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to @pickonerain! You've been an absolute star to me and seeing as you love Sherry, here's her little addition to the story 😇

AO3 Link

Chapter 5: Divergence

It was not like Claire and Leon to hide from you, but somehow they had ended up right at the other end of the room, far away from the counter, out of sight. They seemed deep in conversation, their expressions grim, and Leon was gripping his porcelain cup so tight you were afraid it would shatter to bits in his hand.

Curiosity—or rather, nosiness—got the better of you, and you scooted closer to the couple, pretending to sweep the area so you could listen in more easily.

“This was why you wanted to meet me, Claire?”

“Isn’t it important enough? I don’t get why you’re being so defensive!”

“I thought you wanted to catch up over coffee, not use me for one of your schemes!”

“Use you? Are you even listening to yourself? How does bringing down that son of a bitch count as ‘using you’?

“Chief Irons probably had a good reason, and all these rumors—”

“Rumors? There’s cold, hard evidence! We just need that one missing piece—”

“No! Forget it.”

“What?”

“I’m not getting involved.”

“So, this is it, huh? You go your way, and I go mine?”

“I…”

“I’m embarrassed I even called you a friend.”

Kicking out her chair, Claire threw down a couple of bills on the table before storming out in a fit of rage, slamming the front door behind her. 

Before you could even react, Leon had beaten you to it. “Don’t look at me like that,” he chided, though he had ducked his face away, red with shame. “I know you heard everything. You weren’t exactly being very stealthy.”

“That was never really my strong suit,” you admitted. “Mind if I join you?”

“Be my guest,” he said, motioning to the seat beside him, still unable to look you in the eye.

Spying his half-finished drink on the table, now cold, you resisted the urge to get up and fix it, knowing there were other things he needed more in that moment. So, you continued to sit with him, and even though you did not exchange any words, you breathed together, content with sharing in each other’s company until he was ready to speak.

“Do you think I’m naive?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Maybe I’m scared that I am,” he confessed, his voice small and tired. “What if I’m wrong? What if Claire’s wrong?”

Cradling his cheek in your hand, you caressed it softly. He didn’t protest, but leaned in indulgently, nuzzling his nose against your palm like a deer. Then, something clicked internally and he broke away, straightening up in his seat as though he had not just given in to his desires a moment ago. However, this time, his face was angled towards you, waiting.

“What does your gut feeling say?” you put forward. “I’d trust that.”

He hesitated, taking a deep breath as he stared off into the distance, gathering his thoughts. “A snake oil salesman—that’s one way of putting it.”

“Chief Irons,” he clarified. “Whenever I get close to something nasty, he throws me off scent.”

Another hunter—a more seasoned one, you observed.

“I guess you have your answer.”

He collapsed into the backrest of the armchair and exhaled, as though a large weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “I’ll figure it out,” he stated, mostly to himself.

“I know you will,” you said encouragingly.

He had chosen the more difficult path, but at least he had made peace with it and was no longer in denial about Chief Irons’ deception. That was definitely a step in the right direction.

“Thanks, that means a lot to me.”

Once again, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. It felt nice like this, as though your very thoughts and beings were connected.

“I want to know more about you,” he professed out of the blue. “But somehow, you always manage to steer the conversation back to me.”

You gulped, fiddling with your hands. “What do you wanna know?”

“Everything,” he murmured. “Your backstory, your favorite color, what do you do outside of work…” he trailed off.

“I’m not used to talking about myself,” you spelled out.

He grinned cheekily, as if the battle had already been won. “Don’t worry, I’m a good listener.”

And so, you yielded to him, letting things unfold as they should. Hours passed while you shared tales and secrets over cups of spiced tea with sweet milk. The flavors of cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg swirled around your tongue, bringing to mind the warm, inviting breeze of a coastal town near the Red Sea.

“There’s many names for it,” you explained, circling the rim of the cup with your finger lazily. “But I know it as Shai Adeni.”

Leon nestled his chin in his hand, propping his elbow on the table as he gazed at you, captivated. “Incredible.”

“Hmm?” You were not sure if he had registered what you had just said.

Reaching out, he cupped the back of your neck, pulling you close. His heated breath moist against your flushed skin, and the scent of his cologne was dizzying. “You’re—”

The door chime jingled.

Both of you jolted, separating yourselves away from each other in a flash, as your eyes fell upon a little girl standing shyly by the entrance. She was dressed in a school uniform, her hair neatly swept back with a headband into a braided bun.

“Hey there,” you greeted, brushing your hands against your apron as you stood up, shuffling past Leon towards her. “Would you like something to drink?”

At this, she nodded enthusiastically, following you to the counter to grab a seat. As you infused white chocolate into milk with a good dollop of citrus, you exchanged looks with Leon, who held the same concerns as you.

Sliding over another high chair adjacent to hers, he gently opened with, “Hey, I’m Leon. You got a name, pumpkin?”

She wrinkled her nose and grimaced at the nickname. “Sherry,” she replied timidly.

“Nice to meet you, Sherry,” Leon said, shaking hands before he continued, “So, it’s really late, huh? Do your parents know where you are?”

She twiddled her thumbs, swinging her dangling legs back and forth on the chair. “They don’t care,” she said finally. “They’re busy.”

“What do your parents do?”

“They work at Umbrella. They’re making important new medicine,” she revealed proudly.

“Sounds like a tough job,” Leon empathized.

After sprinkling the glittery icing sugar on her drink, you set it before her with a flourish. “Voilà, your Yuzu Meringue, Miss Sherry.”

She giggled at your performance and slurped down the foamy surface. “Mmm!”

“Good, huh?” Leon gave her a side smile.

“Tell you what, Sherry,” you began, “when you finish your drink, my friend Leon here will take you home, okay?”

Her nose was dusted with powder and the cup was still covering half of her face as her eyes darted towards the man.

“He’s a good cop, you’ll be safe with him,” you reassured her. 

Scribbling down your shop’s telephone number on a piece of scrap paper, you handed it to her. “Keep this, you can call me anytime you need to.”

Taking it, she pursed her lips and nodded reluctantly as she stuffed it away into her pocket. “Can I—” she paused, “can I come here whenever I want? You and Leon are nice.”

A pang of loneliness hit you. You sensed it from the tone of her voice and what was left unsaid. It didn’t seem like she had many friends and you wondered about it.

“Please?” she begged, interrupting your thoughts.

“Of course, sweetheart,” you said warmly. “You’re welcome here anytime.”

“Thank you!” she squealed, running over to give you a quick hug before taking Leon by the hand.

Turning to you, a rosy hue spread across his face as he smiled meekly. “So… uh, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“See you tomorrow, as usual, Leon.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[fallinforerling]

LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL... but maybe ours is. final chapter - jb

A/N: Tada! Here it is. The end of an era! Can you believe it? I hope you all liked it. Thank you all for liking my writing and following me, sending messages and support. I'm so grateful for all of you. Love ya always xx

* The photos are pure inspiration! Not true representation of any of the characters.

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

♡ three months later ♡

footballgossip

♡ judemylove, universalfootball and 534,320 more

footballgossip It appears that rumors involving BVB star Jude Bellingham and the mysterious girl that has been seen at recent games are true! The youngster confirmed his long-term relationship with his girlfriend on his IG after today's game! What do you guys think?

Follow @footballgossippp for more info about your favorite players!

loviejude omg wtf, i KNEW he was with someoneeeee

bvbjude i mean... we all knew. this girl has been on his games and jobe's ig for a WHILE now

judesgirl YAAAY. i'm so happy for him!!!

— The article spread like fire, and on the first fifteen minutes of being out, you'd received it more times that you could count. It was a bit overwhelming, but you knew it was coming. Since the day you two got out of the stadium holding hands, everyone knew Jude Bellingham had a girlfriend. And even thought just a tiny circle of people actually knew your name, everyone knew your face.

So you decided to soft-lauch yourself into the public eye. Well, officially. The first step was to make your IG public, and then posting the photos you took after the game. You did it first, thinking that Jude will do something similar to your style.

yourinstagram

♡ nikkiwikki, mia_d, judebellingham, jobebellingham, gioareyna and 760,880 more

yourinstagram my winner ♡ i'm so proud of who you are, your achievements and having you by my side. love you forever

judebellingham i love you so so so much

jobebellingham disgustingly beautiful, love you guys xx

nikkiwikki i knew it

mia_d me and who

gioreyna 👀

judeforever omgksjdkdnfnff i can't

bellinghamnow she's a real one 🫶🏻 we love you queen

judesbaddie can jude fight??? lmao

bellinghammm i'm tired of being singleeeee 🥹

— After seeing the (mostly) positive response from everyone, you felt relieved. Jude was next to you, “giving it the last touches” as he said, then after hitting post, he gave you the proudest look ever.

“I'm so good.” Was the only thing he said, smiling.

“Let's see.”

judebellingham

♡ yourinstagram, jobebellingham, gioareyna, erling.haaland and 1,346,590 more

judebellingham date night with the love of my life. i'll never shut up about you and how much i love you. having you by my side it's the biggest achievement ever. love you forever xx

yourinstagram omg i'm the love of his life 🥹

jobebellingham bring me dessert pls

yourinstagram you're ruining the mood bro

jobe2005 nah, jobe is wilding on their comments like pls 😭

judeforever i didn't want to cry at 2 am but oh well

bvb awwww

judebellingham i know right 🥹 she's beautiful

jb22 girl, if that man doesn't treat you right I CAN

“You call that soft launching me?” You laughed, kicking him just a bit on the leg.

“I was very subtle, my love.” He said, catching your leg and dragging you across the sofa until you were almost on top of him. “At least I didn't called you my future wife.”

You blushed, hating and loving at the same time how much he has been hinting and joking about proposing. You didn't know how to feel.

— Now that you felt more confident about posting every single photo available of Jude, you did it as much as you could. Everyone loved it, not only your close ones, but Jude's fans, thanking you for giving them more content.

You never imagined yourself enjoying the fact of having a public relationship. But it never was about the attention, but the freedom of wanting to post and being able to do so.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

— You lowered your phone after seeing the most recent story he posted, smiling at your boyfriend with such force that you thought your face was going to split in half. 

“Ready?” He hugged you as tight as he could. “The reservation is waiting for us.”

“I'm always ready for dinner.” You said, giggling when he started to kiss your face. “I love you.”

He caressed your face, looking into your eyes for a few seconds before kissing you again. 

“I love you even more.” He finally replied, twirling you around. 

It was such a wonderful night with the most wonderful boyfriend ever. 

Thank God for second chances.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

— After dinner with friends... And family, you didn't know what to say. It was so shocking that all you could do was see the photos Jobe, Nikki, Mia and Denise were sending you one after another.

✉️ Nikki: Post this one!!!

✉️ Mia: NO! This one has better lighting

✉️ Jobe: As the newest member of the group chat, I order it to be this one I personally took

✉️ Nikki: Excuuuuuseeee me?

✉️ lmaoooo, guys don't fight!!!

✉️ Nikki: He started it!

yourinstagram

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yourinstagram getting married i guess (i love you darling)

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judebellingham our engagement, of course

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judebellingham proposed to my girlfriend i guess

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jobebellingham again, my idea

judebellingham bro! shhhhh

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[daemour]

Pairing: Choi San x f!Reader

Genre: light angst, fluff, non-idol au, roommate!san, f2l

Word Count: 1818

Warnings: Cursing, an aggressive ex but it ends quickly

Summary: You’ve known San since the beginning of college and you’ve had a crush on him since your second year. But you’ve been obvious and he’s done nothing about it so all your hope is lost.

Happy Valentines Day! Thanks to @defwoodz​ for reading this through lol go check out Long Kiss Goodnight!

-

When you wake up, your back hurts. Of course it would, having fallen asleep at the coffee table while trying to finish an essay. The end of the semester is near so you’ve been working extra hard to complete everything you need to, but you’ve been wearing yourself thin. It doesn’t surprise you that you’ve fallen asleep at your laptop, but the blanket around your shoulders does surprise you.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Your roommate’s voice makes you spin around in your chair, definitely 100% awake now.

“Were you just sitting on the couch and watching me?” you ask, affronted, but all Choi San does is laugh and point at the muted TV playing an anime. “Oh. Sorry, I’ll go in my room so that you can put the volume up.” You shoot him a quick, apologetic smile, and escape to your room.

When the door is shut and locked and you’re sure he won’t come to ask you something, you immediately bury your face in your pillow and scream. You’ve had a crush on San since you shared a class with him in your sophomore year and because of your mutual friends. When he and you became flatmates your senior year your feelings only amplified.

You’re sure you’ve been so obvious that San must know and just chooses to ignore it because he doesn’t want to make things awkward.

But alas, being roommates and one of his best friends, avoiding him is not an option. The only peace you have from your blooming feelings is during exam season when both of you are far too tired and brain-dead to even say hi to each other most mornings.

Unfortunately, life is not in your favour and exam season has passed and all you have left to do is sulk about your unrequited crush on a boy who thinks of you as just someone who is his best friend’s girlfriend’s best friend.

A knock on your room door startles you out of your funk and you sit up quickly. “Come in!”

San pokes his head around the door. “Hey, I’m going to run to the store down the street and grab some ramen. Do you want anything?”

“Mmh, can you get me some iced tea? I don’t care what flavour.” San nods and you roll off your bed. “Lemme give you some money for it, hang on.”

San shakes his head. “No need, it’s literally only 1000 won. Save that money for your next pack of gum that you chew on unhealthily much.” You throw one of your hats at him and he annoyingly catches it and puts it on, winks, and ducks away before you can throw another thing at him.

As soon as you hear the apartment door click you groan loudly and slam your head on the floor. You have absolutely no game so no matter how hard you try and flirt, it just doesn’t work. What the hell are you supposed to do now? Your best friend, Karina, has tried to get you to meet other people, but none of them were a good match. Her boyfriend Wooyoung (San’s best friend), has tried to hint to San himself, but to no avail.

In the end, all you do is get up off your floor and move back into the shared living space. As you’re getting a glass of water, you can hear a knock on the door and you laugh at the sound. San forgot his keys once again. It’s almost a weekly occurrence by now, and he’s lucky all your classes are in the morning.

“Man, you’re almost as forgetful as me,” you joke as you swing the door open but your words die in your throat. Standing in front of you is your ex, Jaebyeong, with a smile you never thought you had to see again on his face.

“Hey, (Y/N),” there’s a drawl to his words and you can smell a hint of alcohol on his breath. “It’s been a while.”

You grimace. “And there’s a reason for that. Why are you here?” You lean away from him but as drunk as he is, Jaebyeong doesn’t seem to notice and instead takes a shaky step forward.

“I missed you,” he says, his smile widening. “Why did you even leave me in the first place?”

You take another step back into your room, but that proves to be a mistake as he follows you forward. “You left me, remember Jaebyeong?” you ask under your breath. “You left me for Saeyeon.”

Jaebyeong waves his hand. “Ah, that was so long ago. Aren’t you over it? Don’t you like me anymore?”

He leans in as if to kiss you but in the corner of your vision, you see a hand land on his shoulder and pull Jaebyeong away so harshly that he almost slams into the doorframe. “Get away from her, asshole.”

San is standing there, plastic bags at his feet, and you’ve never been so excited to see him in your life, and that’s saying something. Jaebyeong looks your roommate up and down, and although your ex is almost a head taller, he notices the strength in San’s arms and the unbridled anger in his gaze and he turns and leaves without another word.

As he moves out of sight, San sighs and moves forward, grabbing your shoulders. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head. “Yeah, he just…rattled me. I haven’t seen him in two years and now he decides to come crawling back?” You force out a laugh but it sounds fake even to San’s ears judging by the look he gives you. “Did you get my tea?”

It’s the saddest effort you’ve ever had to change the topic but San takes pity on you and drops it. “Yeah, is peach all right?” You nod and he goes back into the hallway to retrieve his groceries. “Go sit on the couch and relax. I’ll pop on a movie and we can have a roommates only movie night. No arguments.”

He fixes you with a look but to be honest, he didn’t really need to because you want to forget about that encounter, and you’d also love to spend more time with him anyways.

—

“(Y/N) I’m so happy for you!” Karina runs up to you, big eyes shining excitedly. “You and San are finally going out!”

“What?” You’re confused. At least three other people have congratulated you and Wooyoung winked at you just this morning so when Karina drops this huge bomb on you, you’re understandably a bit stressed out. “We’re not?”

“But Mina heard it from Jisoo, and Jisoo heard it from Irene, who heard it from Baekhyun who heard it from Mark who heard it from Jaebyeong. You’re with San!”

Your mouth drops open as it all comes together. “Oh, no, no, no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “San and I are not together.” You explain the situation to her and Karina’s face falls.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” she says, more miserable than you are right now. “You were so in love with him.”

“I am not!” you exclaim a little too loudly.

“You’re not? That’s too bad cus I was going to ask you out.” A familiar voice makes you freeze in your tracks and you slowly turn around to face Choi San himself, a smirk on his face.

“San! Heyyy,” you say slowly, drawing out the vowel, and Karina makes her quiet escape. “So about that…”

San steps closer and you take one, tiny, tiny step back. “So. About that,” he mimics and you groan and roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from your usual banter. He giggles along but then becomes serious. “So you love me?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” you mumble out, twisting your fingers together, but one look from him and you crumble. “Okay, maybe I am in love but I think I did a good job of being subtle.”

From the laugh that comes out of San’s mouth, you realise that he, in fact, is not as oblivious as you thought but just didn’t do anything about it. “Subtle to who?” Your frown deepens.

“Okay, well, if you’re going to be a dick about it, I’d rather you just reject me so I can get on with life and find a new roommate,” you grump. “I’m not in the mood to get my heart broken so do it as gently as possible.”

San’s expression immediately becomes serious. “Wait, I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I don’t mean to make fun of you and I definitely don’t want your heart to break.”

Your face scrunches you and you have to will yourself not to cry. “Well then. I don’t know if I want to pretend this never happened cus I will inevitably get hurt.”

You’re just about to start sobbing and you really don’t want that to happen. You turn away and start to walk, but strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and San’s face appears in your peripheral vision. “No, I don’t want that either. What I’m trying to say…is that I love you too.”

You bite your lip. “If you’re joking I might have to kill you, San, and I don’t want that to happen.”

San can’t help but chuckle but soon buries his face in the crook of your neck. “I don’t want that to happen either. How else will I get to hold my favourite girl?”

You let a sigh escape and you slowly relax in his hold. “I’m your favourite?”

San laughs at how cute you look right now. “Mmh, who else would it be? I’ve loved you since you bumped into me four years ago.”

You slap his arm but butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words. “Why didn’t you do anything about it then?”

“Mmh, I kinda thought you were cute trying to be obvious but I was going to tell you before finals ended,” San teases and you can feel your face grow hot but the feelings you have for him only intensify after his confession.

“I love you” you can’t help but murmur to yourself.

“I love you too,” San hums back, turning you around so that he can look into your eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

You don’t speak in fear of not being intelligible and instead just nod. San smiles the biggest you’ve ever seen and his hands move from his shoulders to your face and you close your eyes in anticipation. And when his lips touch yours you swear you would’ve melted on the spot if his touch wasn’t grounding you.

“You loved me first,” you murmur against his lips, and you can’t help the smile from spreading across your face as you lean back for some air.

“And you loved me next,” San responds, pulling you back in with another kiss.

[kyouka-supremacy]

Sskk headcanons for you, my liege:

- Akutagawa visits Atsushi's ADA apartment, and is horrified that his jinko sleeps in a closet. He takes Atsushi mattress shopping, but blindfolds him first. That way, Atsushi can't see the price tags, and will be honest about his preferences.

- Atsushi makes homemade sweets for Akutagawa, because he knows Aku has a sweet tooth.

- They go on lots of festival dates, especially during the summer. Neither of them got to experience a normal teenage life, and it's a nice break from their insane jobs. Kouyou handmakes yukata for them, and Yosano does Atsushi's hair. Akutagawa is always awestruck at how pretty Atsushi is. They walk around for hours, playing games and eating festival food, holding hands. During the fireworks show, Atsushi sometimes falls asleep with his head on Akutagawa's shoulder.

- Being around Atsushi physically relaxes Akutagawa, because he knows (even subconsciously) that Atsushi will keep him safe. He sleeps best when he's laying next to his jinko (especially when Atsushi plays with his hair.) Bonus points if Atsushi is purring-- it'll put Akutagawa straight to sleep.

THANK YOU THESE WERE ALL AMAZING all your ideas are absolutely blessed and get instantly integrated in my canon belief system, I don't even know how you do it.

Atsushi sleeping in a closet as a concept only keeps delivering, and it's only made better when you add Akutagawa to the scene? Did he comment on how cats like to be in boxes. Did he make a “talk about being in the closet......... ” joke. But most importantly how did he find out? Was he visiting Atsushi's place for the first time and he sat down on the only bed there and the exchange happened “get off, that's Kyouka's bed” “What do you mean Kyouka's bed? Where the hell do you sleep?” “I sleep in the closet” “... You sleep in the closet.”. Never getting tired of the potential this has, and the concept of Akutagawa blindfolding him, I can't, that's too cute 😭😭😭 Like yeah that would definitely happen!!! Because Akutagawa is all about this kind of silent acts of care, and Atsushi would probably never allow him to buy something expensive for him knowing the price tag. This is all so cute.

And I'm ALL IN for Atsushi baking for Akutagawa that sounds like something he would definitely do!!!! The kind of domestic activity he never got the chance to do but that he really wants to catch up on now. Also Atsushi basically forcing Akutagawa to eat because Akutagawa can't say no to Atsushi. They're so cute they make me sick.

But yeah ultimately it's all about sskk exploring what it feels like to have a normal life and catching up on everything they've missed together, and it's so cute, it's one of my favorite things. They probably have a never-ending bucket list of all things they consider “normal” and slowly fill it together. They watch a lot of movies (especially for kids) and go to amusement parks together a lot and of course festival dates!!! Akutagawa always has his breath taken away by seeing Atsushi, but like, that's just Ryuunosuke Akutagawa for you. And the concept of Atsushi falling asleep on Akutagawa's shoulder 😭😭😭 Akutagawa probably going into internal combustion even though it's like the twelfth time that happened.

And I AM a firm believer Akutagawa can only really fall asleep with Atsushi like. That's the only thing that still keeps my sleepyhead-Akutagawa belief standing although he canonly only sleeps like four hours. He can only sleep with Atsushi because Atsushi is the only person who can make him feel safe! Also this

Thank you again for your blessed mind long live sskk

[lonelyskeletonflower]

Scar-crossed Lovers

my very first serious fanfiction, in English nonetheless lol. I wrote this last night after uni fueled by the power of hyperfixations (FOB's music) and the fact that I miss playing BG3 (I'm stuck + no time to play because of uni)

1,5k; spoilers for the end of the game. transmasc tav (they/them). based on FOB lyrics. hurt no comfort (okay a bit of comfort)

It was a rare, calm night, after a long, tiring day. The sky was clear, and the moon was big and comforting. The stars seem to shine brighter, lately, Astarion thought, as he lowered his gaze to look at the big wolf getting chased by Scratch around the camp. The big wolf, his druid boyfriend. He allowed a soft smile to form on his lips, knowing that the other companions were busy, except for Karlach, who was watching the wolf and the dog play with a delighted expression. Her presence next to him definitely wasn’t the reason why he felt so warm inside, despite his condition. No, that warmth in his chest and the exceptional brightness of the stars those nights were caused by his blooming feelings for Kieran, who had just sat next to him, panting, still in wolf form.

“Are you done playing for tonight, darling?” he asked, stretching his hand out to pet the wolf’s fluffy head. Kieran replied with a sweet canine smile, wagging their tail.

Sweet. Yes. Kieran was, indeed, quite sweet. And not just that; they were many things. Brave, for instance, always ready to face any danger on their path, and fierce in battle, and strong, and attractive, and compassionate, smart, sensitive, loyal, caring, good. Astarion hated how much of a good person they were, it was almost nauseating, at least when they first met. He knew people had taken advantage of their goodness their entire life, Kieran had told him about it with a pained smile on their pretty face, and yet the druid never really strayed from being good, from the desire to do good, to help people, even when they didn’t deserve it. That didn’t mean, though, that being used like that didn’t leave any emotional scars on their soft soul, and that was what made them strong. He hated and loved that at the same time. He loved Kieran, as reluctant as he was to admit it, even to himself. He’d never expected that, in the process of getting the druid to fall for him and win their protection, he would catch feelings for them, but there he was, in love with someone so infuriatingly good at heart.

He wasn’t the only one, of course, who felt something for the redhead. Kieran was so lovable and loving, they’d been with Karlach, and Wyll, and even Lae’zel couldn’t resist them, and he saw the way Shadowheart looked at them; Halsin, too, had let them know that they could drop by his tent anytime, and not just to talk about the Oak Father and other druid things. Nevertheless, Kieran longed for him. Astarion. The kind-hearted hero wanted to give their love to him, who was no hero and definitely not much of a good person. The fact that he refused to share them with anybody else, someone good like them, was certainly proof of his selfishness.

He petted the wolf some more, then wished Karlach good night and got up to go to his tent, followed by the wolf. They snuggled up together in Astarion’s bedroll.

“Could you stay like this, tonight?” asked Astarion. Kieran answered by wagging their tail.

It was much easier to be alone with his thoughts at night without seeing that sweet face in the dark. Even in the dark their goodness made them glow, a light as painful as the sun before the tadpole. But could he really live without light again?

“Dream sweet of me” he whispered, gently scratching the wolf between the ears. Kieran licked his cheek. Soon enough, they were softly snoring.

Astarion sighed. At first, he had thought they only desired his body, they were infatuated with that handsome face (he didn’t need to see his reflection to know that, because nothing could change his beauty… right?), just like his victims; but Kieran had shown him that they genuinely loved him for him, handsome face and nice body and perfect hair and scars and selfishness and dark past and being a vampire and- they loved everything about him, good and bad. They believed in his goodness, although he doubted there was any left in him, after everything Cazador had put him through.

He kept going back to that first night with the druid, after the party, how they went straight to his tent instead of spending the night with Karlach, or Lae’zel, or Halsin, and how they kept coming back, how they kept choosing him over everybody else. Kieran was pretty messed up, too, to love someone like him, even after knowing Astarion’s plan to seduce them so they would protect him. How did they manage to remain a sunbeam, since they were so messed up? That was a mystery. But it was only fair that two messed up people had ended up together. Maybe they deserved each other.

Maybe, he thought, cautiously, I could get used to this. To their love.

He pressed a kiss against his boyfriend’s head and buried his hands in their fur. Having Kieran sleep in his tent, whether in an animal form or in human form, made him feel safe. An unfamiliar feeling, but not an unpleasant one.

Yeah, I could really get used to this.

It was over. Cazador was dead. He had ascended. He was free. Free! He didn’t have to hide any longer. He didn’t have to live in fear anymore. He had power and everything he wanted – everything but one thing. The only thing that motivated him to find Cazador again and kill him: Kieran.

After Astarion had completed the ritual, he thought everything would be perfect: control, power, love, and no more fear. But Kieran had left him, saying that they thought they were more than a pet to Astarion. And they were so much more than a pet to him, they were the reason he finally felt alive after two hundred years. Weren’t they supposed to be aeterna amantes? And yet he couldn’t stop them from leaving.

He could live in the light again, forever, yet he preferred the darkness. There was no point in being in the light without his light. His sunbeam.

And suddenly, there they were. Kieran was there, right in front of him, in their human form. Astarion wanted to run to them, hug them, kiss every single one of their freckles, greet them with “hello, my sweet”. Instead, he waited for them to say something.

“Astarion” they said. Their eyes were filled with sadness. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah” he agreed. I miss you, he wanted to say. “What brings you here?”

Kieran opened their mouth to say something, then changed their mind and closed it again, only to clear their throat and finally speak.

“I wanted to talk.”

“Talk” Astarion smirked. “What about? Regretting your decision?”

The druid tortured their bottom lip with their teeth for a moment.

“I don’t regret it, seeing how you are now. Who you are” they replied, locking eyes with their former lover.

“I’ve always been like this. This is who I’ve always been. And you knew it.”

Kieran shook their head, red hair gently falling on their face.

“You’re not the person I knew. You’re not the man I fell in love with anymore” they said, calmly wiping away a solitary tear that rolled down their cheek. Astarion felt incredibly angry and incredibly sad at the same time.

“I don’t think he ever existed” he retorted, flatly. “You just wanted to see something that wasn’t there.”

The hero of Baldur’s Gate looked extremely dejected.

“I guess you’re right. I never learn my lesson, uh? I’m sorry.”

Astarion looked away, uncomfortable.

“I still think that hiding somewhere behind this image you’ve created for yourself there’s the Astarion I love” Kieran added, slowly. “I love you. I cannot be with you, but I do love you. And I’m yours ‘til the earth starts to crumble.”

The vampire laughed bitterly, choking on tears that he refused to cry.

“We’re scar-crossed lovers, forever” he said. “These scars we bear will always keep us apart, no matter how used to them we get.”

Kieran took one step closer. Astarion did too. Their lips met one last time. Their faces were wet.

“I thought you believed in having control over your life” whispered the druid, but they didn’t mean it. They knew their relationship was doomed.

“I thought you believed anything can be healed or fixed” whispered back Astarion, and he found himself meaning it.

“What happened to ‘scar-crossed lovers, forever’?”

“What happened to aeterna amantes?” Astarion smiled weakly, gently wiping away Kieran’s tears. “I’m struggling to exist with you… and without you, darling.”

It was the redhead’s time to laugh with desperation and a tiny bit of hope.

“Is this our fate? A relationship that will never work, but a love that will always bring us back to one another?” they asked, looking for Astarion’s eyes. In the darkness of the place, they glowed with love… and a tiny bit of hope.

“Oh, my sweet.”

They embraced each other, feeling finally safe and at home again, as the dawn of a new day brought a few soft rays of sun onto them.