#|| it's impossible to put those all on paper | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smoft-demons · 7 months

Text

MC falls asleep on him

_______

Lucifer:

‘…?!’ Is what Lucifer is thinking as your head drops onto his shoulder.

You had cajoled him into doing some of his constant paperwork in a bigger chair for a change. So there’s room for you to sit next to him! You’re not even demanding his attention, or the spare time that he doesn’t have, you’re being very considerate, you just wanted sit next to him, that’s all, you had promised!

Lucifer caved, because he is very soft for his human—even though he’s loathe to look like it. You were in fact being considerate… so he had brought a stack of relatively low-importance papers out of his office, into the living room.

You were sitting on a couch together, him with his stack of administrative papers and you with a homework assignment. You finished yours quickly, so you ended up playing a game on your DDD as you lean against him.

He checks on you periodically out of the corner of his eye. He’s relaxed though—as relaxed as Lucifer gets. This is peaceful. Meditative, almost. He’s happy. All his brothers are elsewhere, his tasks are not too overwhelming, he gets to have a nice, calming afternoon sitting in companionable silence with his favourite housemate…

A sudden weight falling on him jolts him out of his trance. Your cheekbone thunks against his shoulder. He blinks. Processing.

In quick succession, his brain goes like ‘..?!’ then ‘it is mid-afternoon why are you sleeping’ and ‘have we been overworking our human?’ and ‘aww. MC really does trust me that much.’

He adjusts the way you’re situated so you’re more comfortable as he finishes up the last of his work. When he’s done, he takes a moment to just observe. To appreciate your trust in him. Also, to congratulate himself again for his part in the creation of the exchange program, because it brought you into his life.

(He tries to ignore the stubborn twinge of nostalgic heartache he feels as well. You’re reminding him so much of Belphie, from back when his relationship with him was good. He’d never admit it, but he misses having his babiest brother fall asleep on him like this.)

Lucifer gathers up his papers, then picks you up, being careful not to jostle you too much. Let no one ever say he doesn’t take good care of his human. He carries you to your room to put you to bed. Clearly you need the extra sleep. Or… well, he tries to. You’re holding onto him pretty insistently.

He expects himself to feel irritated, but… no. He can’t help but feel a little smug, actually. It’s cute, you’re cute, you don’t seem to want him to leave you. So… fine. He’ll oblige. For a short break.

(An hour or two later, you’ll wake up to the smells and sounds of dinner being prepared. You’re… not under your blanket? No, you’re covered by Lucifer’s ridiculously long coat. It’s warm, soft. It smells like him. In this moment, it’s impossible to miss how loved you are.)

_______

Mammon:

The first time this happened (in your room, watching movies without any of his brothers for once), Mammon was stunned. He had frozen up, stuttered some nonsense to no one in particular, then quickly slapped his free hand over his mouth as he realized he would wake you if he didn’t immediately chill out.

Now though? You’ve been in his life for a while. He’s your oldest friend here. Those movie nights had become a habit, even though it remained rare to have one with no one else joining in. So this has happened a lot, and he’s gotten used to it. He doesn’t react so outwardly anymore, not unless one of his brothers show up to make fun of him.

If they try it, Mammon is rather aggressive about shushing them. At first, because he hated to be so obvious about how much he cares about you, but now that he’s a bit more used to it, it’s because he doesn’t want them to disturb you. He feels like he’s protecting you by keeping his brothers from waking you up. Sometimes, he’s the one who wakes you up by telling them to shut up just a bit too loudly, or silently gesturing for them to be quiet or go away a little too enthusiastically.

His brothers roast him even more for that. Poor thing.

Time and time again, you pass out on his shoulder. During a movie, mid relaxed hangouts with various groups of the brothers, in the rare times when hanging out solo with Mammon is a relaxing low-energy affair, while studying, during the lunch break at school, even in class sometimes. His heart warms, and he can’t help but smile at the familiar feel of you conked out on his shoulder again. He doesn’t even mind if you snore.

Mammon is usually such a loud, high energy person. Neither you nor him finds anything wrong with that of course, it’s one of many lovable things about him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like being able to just chill with you sometimes though. It’s nice.

Eventually, he gets familiar enough with this that he’s willing to move you around to get more comfortable. With time, he learns exactly what ways he can move you without disturbing you. So most of the time when you fall asleep on him, you wake up in some other position. Sitting in his lap, lying down with a sleeping Mammon wrapped around you, being carried to another room, propped up against his side in your next class, being hugged like a teddy bear in his room, etc etc.

He never questions why you’re tired. He just lets you pass out on him. He wants you to be in the best possible condition, and he will happily take all the time with you he can get. He takes this to mean that you also want all the time with him that you can get, that you would rather stay with him than go to bed when you’re tired because you would rather not be separated from him. Just like how he feels about you. Why else would he be in your room as often as he is?

You trusting him enough to sleep on him all the time makes him feel like he’s being a good guardian demon, like he’s as precious to you as you are to him.

He’s a fan of all the free cuddles he gets out of this, too.

_______

Levi:

You’re in Levi’s room with him, set up very comfortably as you’re marathoning an anime together. You’ve been at it for hours though, you’re already a bit sleep deprived, and you’ve seen this one a few times already. You can’t stop yourself from nodding off. Your head drops onto his shoulder.

Levi freaks out.

“afgshrjdxssh—WH-!” He flails. You immediately snap awake again. “You—uhh-!” He shoves you away in a panic, then immediately changes his mind, pulling you back in, then freezes for a moment before letting go of you to flap his hands frantically. “Nonono stay—wait no, you don’t want to—I mean, you don’t have to—I mean, get o—uhh! Um! I mean! S-stay if you want, but I don’t care if you don’t want to—!”

You blink slowly at him a couple times. Trying to parse his contradictory sputtering. You’re tired, you’re not working at full brain power. You figure he means something along the lines of: ‘ooo I’m Levi, I have bad self esteem and I can’t believe you want to touch me, but I want you to, but I can’t say that because I cope with feeling unlovable by acting all tsundere because that way I feel less pathetic, love you though!’

You know. Standard Levi stuff. You love him so much—and you’d be very happy if he started therapy.

For now though, you just grab his arm and pull him closer to you again. You bury your face in his shoulder. This time, it’s unmistakably a deliberate move. Wordlessly telling him that you do in fact love him enough to want to touch him.

It’s like his body just took a screenshot! He keysmashes out loud.

Slowly, he calms down. He puts one hesitant arm around you. You don’t move. He can’t tell if you’re already asleep again or just pretending to be, but either way you seem to be comfortable.

Soon enough, he finds himself smiling like an absolute dork. This… is actually very effective reassurance. He feels all warm and fuzzy and loved. He likes holding you.

It’s reminding him of TSL fluff fics he’s read where absolutely nothing happens except Henry and the Lord of Shadows cuddle. A way for him to experience affection vicariously through a character he relates to and a character he loves, when he really wants hugs himself but can’t have any.

He squeezes you softly as his heart warms. He squishes his cheek against the side of your head.

“I love my Henry..!” Levi mumbles to himself, under his breath. He has no way of knowing if you heard that, which is why he said it out loud. It’ll be a while until he gets the nerve to say it when he knows you can hear.

_______

Satan:

He is HONOURED, he is OVERJOYED, he is MELTING, he is… very carefully remaining perfectly chill.

It’s the same type of happiness as when a cat decides to sit on you out of nowhere. He’s been chosen!

He is SO happy you trust him so much!

He had been reading, as usual. You had been sitting next to him, as usual. You had gotten tired, and without a moment of hesitation you had buried your face in his shoulder and fallen asleep.

He carefully contains all the joy this gives him, so he doesn’t disturb you. He wraps an arm around you, plants a soft kiss on your head, and goes right back to reading.

If you sleep fitfully, he’ll stroke your hair to soothe you.

When you wake up, he’ll ask if you had a nice nap. He won’t make any moves to make you get off him. If you choose to anyway, he won’t react outwardly, because he doesn’t want to discourage you falling asleep on him again. He wants this to happen lots more! So he’ll just smile at you and go back to his book.

But if you don’t choose to leave, he’ll shift you entirely into his lap to make you both more comfortable. He can hug you properly like this. If he’s sure you’ll be comfortable with it, he’ll kiss your forehead before going back to his book. He’s very happy to keep you there.

_______

Asmo:

Predictably, Asmo’s gonna take ALL the pictures of this!

A few in which he doesn’t look at the camera, as if they were candid shots. Some where he’s posing cutely, a couple where he’s kissing your head, a bunch of various angles of your sleeping face. What can he say, he thinks the way your cheek squishes against his collarbone is just precious.

A bit less predictably, he posts none on devilgram. No, these are just for him.

…maybe the best ones are for the group chat. He’s gotta show off his cute human to someone, it may as well be to his brothers. They’ll appreciate you properly. He’ll share after you’ve woken up, though. He doesn’t want anyone barging in to disturb you.

He’ll share the pictures with you as well if you ask, of course! What he will NOT do, however, is risk you deleting them! He’ll back them up first. He’ll store them in a hidden album if you’re shy about them, but he’s not deleting them!

Well, unless you’re genuinely uncomfortable. Then, okay fine. But please let him keep at least one? You’re so cute!

He’ll be more affectionate over the following days. Trying to be next to you all the time, inviting you to his room at every opportunity, pulling you to sit next to him. All because he hopes you’ll fall asleep on him again. Or just lean on him like that, and let him cuddle you. Please, he’d be SO happy!

_______

Beel:

Beel is so used to this behaviour. Belphie falls asleep on him all the time. He’d be the most chill about it.

As if it’s routine, he’ll secure you in your position with his arm, so you can’t fall and get hurt. He’ll rub your back and hum softly to you to help you relax if you don’t seem to be sleeping well. Beel is warm and soft and big and comfy, like the giant teddy bear he is at heart. He’s considerate and gentle. He’s always really sweet to you, and that doesn’t change one bit even when you’re unconscious.

When he inevitably gets too hungry to stay where he is, he’ll just take you to the kitchen with him. It’s no problem, he does this with Belphie all the time. It doesn’t matter how much you weigh, Beel can carry you easily. He thinks nothing of it.

He can cook one handed too if he needs to. He’s got practice—also because of Belphie. He’s chilling, he’s comfortable, there’s nothing unusual about this at all to him.

If the kitchen noises wake you up, he’ll apologize and share his food with you. He’ll tell you outright that he’s happy to let you use him as a pillow whenever you want.

(Also, he makes a mental note to drop you off with Belphie instead of bringing you along to the kitchen and risking waking you up again next time)

If it doesn’t wake you up, no problem! That’s what he expected. He just carries you around as he does what he needs to do around the house. He’ll put you to bed properly if he needs to go outside of course, but otherwise he’s bringing you with him.

When you wake up, he’ll put you down if you somehow indicate that’s what you want. If you don’t though, he just… won’t. He likes holding you. He’d do it so often if he thought you’d like him to.

_______

Belphie:

…Welp. The table has turned, hasn’t it.

People don’t fall asleep on Belphie while he’s awake too often! He’s not usually conscious to experience this! He likes it though. He thinks you’re being so cute.

9 times out of 10, Belphie will take this as his cue to cuddle up to you and join you in sleep. He can always be tempted into a nap. He’d make sure this the comfiest, nicest, most restful nap you’ve ever taken. He’d make sure you feel so safe and loved. You will NOT be disturbed on his watch.

On the rare tenth time, when Belphie isn’t tired, he might whine about being trapped. When one of his brothers points out that he can move you very easily, he glares at them. He maintains that it’s illegal to move when you’ve been chosen as someone’s pillow. When it’s pointed out that he’s perfectly capable of waking you if he really wants to get up, he looks affronted. He would NOT do that, he says. Do they think he’s completely heartless, he asks.

Well. He wouldn’t do that unless he’s feeling particularly bratty. He’d totally do it to any of his brothers… but he’s soft with you. He loves you. Be so for real, do you think he’d really ever pass up an opportunity to cuddle you? No way. He can go shopping later.

He won’t tell you that though. He’ll bitch about it to your face, complaining until you agree to go shopping with him next time, all the while refusing to let go of you.

He already was not hesitating to fall asleep on you, but he somehow gets more shameless and constant about it. Since you’re doing it too, it’s your thing now. You’d be a hypocrite to complain now.

Yeah, he couldn’t be happier about this. Please sleep on him all the time. Enable him even more! He’ll make sure you won’t regret it.

3K notes · View notes

monzamash · 4 months

Text

my side of the sofa — lando norris

rating – mature (language, sexual references) requested for✨monzamusings✨ inspired by the kooks' sofa song – and i kinda want to continue this lil story... lmk what you think x

lando was the andy to your april, the tom to your zendaya – on paper there was no logical reason why your dynamic worked, polar opposites in almost every way. he was sunshine personified, wildly charming and devilishly handsome. he was the kind of guy who wore his heart on his sleeve, staunchly loyal with a smile brighter than the stars he swore you hung in the night sky.

in contrast, you walked on the darker side of life; a little mysterious, quietly confident and self assured but humble, generous and effortlessly beautiful but to some, you were intimidating – always kind and caring but scary until those impenetrable walls that had been iron clad from birth started to come down.

somehow lando norris had achieved what most thought was impossible.

it started small with knowing smiles and inside jokes – my god, you had jokes for days! and he laughed at every single one, without fail. wild curls thrown back and smile lines crinkled together, creating a jigsaw you desperately wanted to piece together. you loved in his dry british sense of humour – dark, macabre jokes sprinkled with tasteful sarcasm that he saved just for you. on paper, you couldn’t make sense of it, how your heart felt safe with someone so different to you.

“you know that giving a guy a key to your apartment means things are getting serious right? like, way more serious than a stupid label…”

lando stood in your kitchen, patiently brewing you a cup of tea – strong and dark with the tiniest dash of milk, just the way you liked it, while you scrounged around in the cupboards for the shortbread you bought on a whim just in case you had visitors, though rare it did happen from time to time. why the fuck did I put them up there, you muttered under your breath. lando placed down the teaspoon he’d been drumming on your countertop and came to your rescue, his warm hand resting on you lower back as he reached up beside your head and plucked the shortbread from the top shelf with ease.

“short arse.”

“prick.” you quipped back, snatching the delicious snack from his hand and skipping away.

“and to answer your question – no, i don’t think giving you a key means anything but being smart because it saves me having to come all the way down here to unlock the door for you... because you're here allll the time,” your drawling tone earned a pinch to the ribs as you launched onto the sofa, lando following closely behind.

“i’m here all the time because you call me, miss ‘i’m scared of the dark and need a big, strong man to look after me’,” lando mocked in a high pitched voice, causing you to scoff into the hot cup of tea nestled in your hands.

“big feels generous…”

a shocked expression swept across lando’s face – eyebrows raised as he playfully brushed off your burn, “ooh does it now?” his attitude turning cocky in the blink of an eye.

“i don’t think that’s how you felt last week in monaco – just saying,” he shrugged before taking an exaggerative sip from his mug, your eyes suspiciously narrowed but the smile itching the corners of your mouth threatened to give you away.

“admit it.”

"no way!”

“come oooon, admit that i’m big or i’m not watching vanderpump with you.”

lando quickly grabbed the remote control from the coffee table in the midst of his ultimatum and held it above his messy head of curls as you carelessly shuffled into his tracksuit-clad lap, determined to take back what belonged to you.

“don’t you dare threaten me, norris – i have so much dirt on you so you do not want to push me…” you couldn't be serious if you tried.

"all the dirt you have on me includes you, my sweet girl so do your worst,” he taunted with a whisper, his smug smile making your eyes roll.

he had no idea who he was dealing with.

“three words; facetime in singapore… or maybe you need me to re-jog your memory?” lando’s face dropped in disbelief, dragging his bottom lip between his two front teeth at the memory but as he peered into your playful eyes, a dubious scoff puffed from his mouth.

"pfft, you wouldn’t do it…”

“oh baby,” you mocked, hands pressed to his tight chest as you settled into his lap, eliciting a groan when you looked down at him, “try me and find out..”

lando's eyes fluttered shut for a millisecond as his head lulled back in defeat, placing the remote on your side of the sofa, “you win.”

“i always win.”

lando softly hummed, tilting his head with a smirk, “nah ‘cause after all that, who’s side of the sofa are you on?” the proud smile lit up his handsome face and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how goofy and beautiful he looked admiring his handy work.

“so you see, i win. and maybe you can too.”

“oh, i’m definitely winning.” you leaned in with a smile and pressed a firm kiss to his perfect lips, melting into his touch. the one thing you knew for sure was that you could kiss him all day, every day, maybe for the rest of your life.

lando was the first to come up for air, eyes blurry and heart shaped while you took a couple more seconds to return to the real world, begrudgingly opening them to see the sweetest human being staring right back. the sigh he exhaled was so deep that it reverberated through your bones, worrying you a little until his hands brushed down your sides and the smile etched on his face remained.

“why are you being such a chicken about us being together?”

“i’m not being a chicken, i’m just being realistic,” you whispered, desperately wanting to change the subject, “... your eyes look really pretty.”

lando chuckled, “i know they are so why don’t you want to wake up to them every morning and tell me that, huh? because i wanna do that.”

“tell yourself that you have pretty eyes?”

it was lando’s turn to eye roll and plant a soft smack to your backside, “such a smartarse.”

“you love it.”

“yeah i do and i love you sooooo…” lando nudged gently, searching for an answer that would ease his fear of losing you.

“soooo…” you mimicked but quickly shied away from his intense gaze, “i’m in love with you too, you dumbarse but we’re weird and so different to one another and i feel like people aren't going to understand us and ruin everything... what do you think?”

you hadn't even realised that you'd started chewing through the black varnish on your nails until lando gently grasped your wrist and laced his fingers with yours. he sighed and kissed the back of your hand – the pause in conversation gave him time to gather his thoughts while the circles he drew into your palm with the pad of his thumb calmed your racing mind.

lando answered hundreds of questions every day but he was struggling to think of a time when his response to a question held this much meaning. actions meant everything to you, and he couldn't wait to hold your hand in public and not be afraid of getting caught sneaking kisses in the paddock when the two of you were meant to be working, but words were a good place to start.

“what i think is that we love each other, yeah? and what i know is that i don't give a shit what other people think because you're fucking hot and i love being weird with you, my scary little angel of death,” he teased, tickling your sides until tears ran down your cheeks and you succumbed to his embrace, face buried in his neck.

“i love being weird with you too.”

shout out to mar (@percervall) for the prompt! more writing...

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #monzamashmasterlist #monzamusings ✨#formula 1 blurb #lando norris fluff

1K notes · View notes

endless-ineffabilities · 1 month

Text

chemical override (7)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: again, I'm thanking all of yous for fueling the chemical override fire! Your comments/messages are so sweet and hilarious and wild - just as this story demands <3 Happy reading!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The arrangement you and Ewan share is in place, but jealousy rears its ugly head when another costar takes an interest in you. It isn't Aemond's allegiance that renders Ewan green-eyed, so to speak...

London

Whenever Ewan needs you, you answer the call.

Because, in truth, you need him too. This might not be the most savoury of arrangements; it might not be what you pictured in your head when you thought of getting back together.

But this way, you can have him, and he can have you.

It's a win-win situation. Even if you're not his, and he's not yours, as he so nicely put it.

So you're there when his need arises. Which, as it happens, arises often - intense, wanton, and greedy. He takes you for himself, your body left littered with markings that can only be from his teeth, his fingers, his aching manhood.

Beads of sweat would cloud your vision as the side of your face is pressed to the mattress, your legs bent to give him better access, so that he sinks deeper. He would whisper, - you're mine... you're mine... fuckin' mine, darling - when he leans down to pant roughly in your ear, momentarily forgetting about the one condition of this whole thing.

You're not his. But as he finishes inside of you, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss, you also have it in you to conveniently forget.

Your respective apartments in London set the stage for your trysts. Ewan comes over so often that he's had to use the back entrance, after getting papped once on a foggy Sunday morning, leaving your apartment building in the same clothes that he wore when he entered at midnight.

LATE NIGHT RENDEZVOUS! - on page 6! Game of Thrones spinoff stars can't get enough of each other!

When Ewan said that the whole thing was going to be a secret, he must have failed to account for the near-impossibility of that notion for a celebrity.

What can be kept secret for those in your line of work?

A romance between two young, highly coveted actors will see the light of day eventually, aided by the blinding flashes of papparazzi cameras.

Predictably, your friends catch on and demand to know how you little lovebirds found your way back together, because of course, they always knew you would.

Sadly, you have to burst Phia's bubble when she calls one evening. "We're not back together."

A pause. She mulls it over. "But the papers..."

"I know."

"He's been seeing you... " She claims, her tone growing unsure.

"He has."

"Then what... oh." You can practically picture the realisation coming across her face. Would it be accompanied by distaste or disappointment? Neither is good anyhow.

"We're seeing each other. But, not really, if you get what I mean."

"No!" she exclaims. You can hear shuffling in the background, like she just slammed the book she was reading shut. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"

"That's doesn't mat - "

"It's Ewan's, isn't it?" she answers, confirming her own suspicion. "That little devious bastard."

"It's not his fault," you find yourself shaking your head, then you startle as the buzzer to your apartment gets your attention. The routine is in place - it's the receptionist letting you know that Ewan is in the lobby. Speak of the devil...

Hmm. You walk to the intercom to let him upstairs, thinking of him coming to claim his prize. But he's not the devil - he's my twisted angel, whose heart I broke.

Phia isn't finished. "What do you mean, it's not his fault? If this was his idea, then let me just talk to the lad and screw his bloody head on straight."

You stand by the door, waiting for his arrival, because whenever Ewan needs you, you're there.

You need him too.

"Phi, I... I want this," you reply. "I have to go."

"Babe, we're not done here. You're not getting off easy."

"I know, I know," you smile at her genuine concern. "Maybe you're right, maybe this all wrong." But...

You know you don't have to say it outright. It's there to see, clear as day.

You love him.

She sighs loudly, resigning herself to the truth of her friend's predicament. "You'll figure this out, the both of you."

"Hope so, Phi." The doorbell rings. You rush through your goodbyes, dropping the call with a promise to keep her updated on what she deems a ridiculous situation.

You greet him at the door, and he stands there, with his black hoodie obscuring his face like he's Daemon about to do some nefarious act of sorts. And he just might. He chews on his lip, and smirks as he takes you in.

"Darling," he greets as he lets himself in. He shrugs off his hoodie and drops it in its usual corner, before beckoning for you with his arms reaching.

He runs his fingers through your hair, as he kisses your neck and inhales your scent, purring, " - fuckin' missed you, beautiful - " as his skilled fingers find the hem of your old shirt.

"My darling girl," he says, and you so badly want to hate him, because he's not being fair. Why does he get to act like this matters to him, when he made it clear that this is only so both your needs are met? Why does he look at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat in hope, with those same blue eyes that blazed when he once said he loved you?

How can you make sure that you don't fall back in love with him, when that love was never truly gone?

"Ewan," you moan as he pushes you against a wall, his rough hands kneading your flesh. You help him pull his shirt over his head, and your fingers drag upward along his skin until it finds the silver chain around his neck. You use it to pull him even closer, not a breadth of space between you.

He kisses you, and it's like an anchor finding home.

Yours or his, it matters little.

It nearly bubbles out of the two of you - those forbidden three words - each time his hips slam right into yours. It's almost there, fighting, waiting to be heard. His 'I really do fucking love you', and your 'I'm sorry about everything, about lying, all I ever wanted was you.'

Nearly. If only things were that simple.

He never stays for long afterward. Small talk is shared - about his new film, the ongoing production for yours, the upcoming engagements you both have for season 3 of House of the Dragon. The bloody weather, even.

The holidays have come and gone, and soon the two of you will again have to fly out to work - you, back to Atlanta; him, to LA for the pre-production of his film with Jenna Ortega.

He took on the film after all, and you should be relieved, but it's hard to feel any sense of ease when you know he will have to be with her in a way that he can't be with you. To the rest of the world, soon enough, they will have to play at being together. Your only claim to him rests in between the sheets, in the countless hollow trysts to be shared.

He doesn't reach for you after the deed is done, after his clothes are back in place and his hair is relieved of that post-sex tousle. As if touching you would cast him aflame.

But you feel his eyes linger on you, all the time, especially when you try to avert your gaze.

What is he thinking, you wonder. Who does he see?

On his way out, he has to deal with an obstacle in order to retrieve his hoodie. An adorable one, at that. Your black Bobtail cat, Sansa, nestles comfortably atop it. Her paws grip the cotton material of the hoodie as Ewan tries to pull it away.

"She likes you," you smile at the sight of Ewan gingerly trying to lift Sansa so she doesn't lash out at him. Even though the likelihood to that is low, with Sansa taking so well to Ewan's constant presence, so much so that you sometimes find her meowing at the door waiting for him to come back. The traitor.

"Good girl," he whispers to her, his hoodie almost released from the weight of her fluffy shape. "That's it."

Then he turns to you, smiling as he shrugs his hoodie back on. "I don't think she wants me to leave."

Like mother, like daughter, comes your thought. But when he straightens, and appraises you with a sideways glance, an amused hum escaping his lips, you realise that you said it out loud.

He smirks openly to himself, his ego blossoming. You roll your eyes at him, mumbling, "Oh, give me a break."

He simply shrugs, walking over to the door.

"I'll call you," he calls over his shoulder as a matter of courtesy, but he sounds uncertain, and the question lingers. Please don't say no, his tone practically begs.

How can you ever?

Arms crossed in an attempt to act nonchalant, leaning against the wall, you smile and say, "Try not to miss me too much, Mitchell."

His eyes linger as they always do. "Impossible task," he responds, casually, unaware that he just upended your whole world with his words.

He solidifies the grip he has on you, before he leaves.

And so the fucked up cycle continues.

Los Angeles

A ginger tabby cat slinks around Ewan's ankles as he sits in the director's office, reminding him of your Sansa and the way she would slink in between your bodies the moment she finds an opening, which is usually after the heated roll in the hay.

He smiles to himself on instinct, remembering how you once shared that you wanted to adopt another cat, preferably a Ragdoll, and name him Benjicat.

"Benjicat?" Ewan had asked.

"Yeah," you smiled, as you stroked a purring Sansa between her ears. "Benjicat Blackwood."

Ewan merely blinked, the connection dawning on him, the brilliance of your idea not lost on his supposedly indifferent mind. He could not hold back his warm and appreciative smile as he gazed at you, and for a moment, he pretended that things were back as they were.

He briefly had the idea that, perhaps, you should adopt the future Benjicat together.

Until the bitter thought crossed his mind - he wasn't the one who quashed that possibility first.

In the office in LA, Jenna sits daintily across from him, still aloof and somewhat of a stranger. She had given him a shy smile when she sat down at the table, exchanged pleasantries and surface-level compliments, the works.

Ewan feels nervous, almost ill at ease, and he normally would be able to single out the reasons why. It could be the notion of meeting an acclaimed director and his future costars. Trying not to stumble on his words, messing up their first impression of him. Maybe he had chainsmoked one cigarette too many before the meeting, worsening the anxiety-inducing effect of his staple black coffee with six sugars.

But this is different. He knows the thing he is dreading is when the matter of the PR business will be brought up.

So he doesn't know what emotion comes over him when the director, Autumn de Wilde, lightly remarks in an attempt to break the tension, "So, Ewan, how's your girlfriend?"

"M-my girlfriend?"

"Yeah," she says jovially, "your costar right? It's all over the socials."

"Oh, I love her," Jenna chimes in. "Is she back in England or is she filming somewhere?"

She's not my girlfriend, is what he should say, but he can't push the words out of his mouth. He's not even sure he wants to. After all, that is why he had the idea for the friends with benefits arrangement in the first place - because he can't cope with the fact that you're not his girfriend anymore.

"Mmm, yeah, she's - uhhh - she's filming in Atlanta," Ewan answers, dodging the main question, but not really.

"Well, say hello to her for me," Autumn says. "She's a keeper, huh? What with her being okay with the PR bullshit you will have to do."

Jenna purses her lips apologetically at him, then remarks, "I don't like that Bruce guy. I know some people who worked with him, and they share the sentiment."

Ewan feels lighter, knowing that they're on the same page. He asks tentatively, "That PR thing... is it set in stone or - ?"

Autumn sighs, "Apparently so, kid. But I heard along the grapevine that great ol' Brucey is dealing with some suit and he might have to pull out of the film."

"Some suit?" Ewan asks.

"A lawsuit," Jenna says.

"Oh." What the fuck. "If he pulls out then what that does mean for us?"

"Halle-fuckin-lujah, that's what," Autumn laughs. "More creative control, more logistics control... more happiness for everyone, really."

"Does that mean the PR relationship will be scrapped?" Ewan blurts out, before sheepishly adding to Jenna, "I mean, no offense - "

"None taken," she shakes her head at him. "I never had a liking for that stuff anyway."

"Well, we'd have to consult with the rest of the execs but they're a lot more likely to be conducive to requests," Autumn says.

Ewan feels a rush of relief, one he immediately wishes he can share with you. If you only you stuck it out with him. If only you didn't leave him hanging at the first sign of trouble.

If only you weren't unsure of how you felt about him.

He calls you afterward, because he wants to, the last remaining shred of his resentment towards you be damned.

"Production nearly finished, darling?" He asks, the pretense of holding back from using the term of endearment long since abandoned.

"Mhmm, I've got one more week here in Atlanta, Mitchell."

You've gone back to calling him Mitchell - not baby, love, or anything remotely romantic.

It bothers him, but he's determined not to let it show.

"I've got about a week and a half here still."

"Then we've got season three prep in London, right?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. "I'll see you back there I suppose."

"Okay," you reply, sounding uncertain of what to say next. "Are you... is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he automatically says. "I just thought... maybe I can come see you."

He listens to your steady breathing at the other end, and it calms him. He waits in silence, until you respond with, "Aren't you busy out there, Ewan?"

He is, and he is aware that it makes him seem desperate. It has only been a few weeks since your last rendezvous back in London, and he is supposed to remain nonchalant. Unaffected. This is not supposed to be some kind of lifeline for him. The thought of you should not be what runs through his mind at every waking moment.

He contradicts all of that, when he admits, "I am, but I want to see you anyway. I can fly out for a day and we could - "

"Ewan - "

"I need you."

You sigh deeply, and he pictures the silhouette of your shoulders rising and falling, the pinch in between your brows, the concerned frown your lips take the shape of.

He misses you. Do you miss him too?

"I know," you say. "But I'll see you soon in London, okay?"

That was not the answer he wanted. There are times when you sound dispassionate and he feels like you couldn't give less of a shit about him, and it kills him.

Even though it shouldn't, and this is what he should have expected, after proposing the arrangement.

But there are also times when you give him a spark of hope to cling to.

"Besides," you muse, "we'll soon have to prepare to give the fans what they want. All the love for Aemond and Alyna surely will not be ignored by the writers. I know I'm rooting for them."

Ewan laughs, "I am too."

Aemond and Alyna. You and him. There are fans, and there are fans, and Ewan is proudly a member of the latter.

"Okay, so, I have to head back inside," you say. "I - uhhh - "

"Yeah, darling, I'll see you soon." I miss you.

"Hmm," you respond, stealing his signature line right from his lips.

He stays on the line, unwilling to let you go.

"Mitchell?" you ask.

"Yes, love?"

"I guess you missed me too much after all."

He smiles wistfully, "I guess I did."

London

Production for your film wraps in late February, just in time for the initial preparations for the upcoming season of House of the Dragon.

You arrive back in London a week before the table read, just in time to join the rest of the cast for a mini reunion at Matt's apartment.

A few drinks in, with numerous tales regaled amongst the large group about what everyone has been up to for the past half year, and you realise just how much you missed being with the cast.

They truly are the best bunch of people you could have ever dreamed of working with.

You eventually found yourselves branching off into little groups, with some preparing food in the kitchen, others smoking out in the balcony, and the rest scattered in the expanse of the apartment.

Matt's place is well-decorated for a bachelor pad, with personal knick-knacks at every corner. You note this to him, as you sit on the plush carpet in his living room. Your little half-circle consists of yourself, Matt, Phia, Liv, Bethany, and Tom, all in varying degrees of inebriation, but either of the lads arguably take the cake.

"You see that?" Matt leans close, pointing to the green shelf nestled in the corner. "On the second level right there, is a prop I stole from season one."

"No way," you squint in that direction, unaware that he gives you a good once-over, the admiration in his eyes plain to see.

The others are quick to point it out in typical fashion.

"Now, now, Smithy," Tom quips. "Try not to burn holes in the girl with yer eyes there."

"She's my babe," Phia jokes, winking at you.

"Oh really?" Matt simply leans back on his palms, unaffected. "Not Ewan's?"

"Oop - " Liv's eyes widen like saucers. "Don't even go there, Smithy."

"Why ever not?" Matt shrugs.

"Guys," you shake your head, waving a hand in dismissal. "it's fine. It's... whatever."

"He's not here," Matt says. "We can talk about it."

"Gossip girl over here," Bethany smirks.

Matt was right in pointing out that Ewan is yet to arrive back from the States. Of course, Ewan had given you a call letting you know that he would be spending the night before the table read at your apartment.

But right now, in this moment, you didn't really feel like going through the sordid details of your affair.

"We can talk about it," you say, "but I'd rather not."

Matt laughs, "Okay. But are you or are you not together?"

"Matt," Tom groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in amusement at his mate's boldness.

"Hey, it's a simple question!"

"It is, isn't it?" you shrug, allowing him that, because he is speaking true. It is supposed to be simple. "We're not actually together... but some of you already know - " you shoot Tom and Phia pointed glances " - that we had a thing once, and we may have a thing still, only lesser and more casual." You look around the group, hoping they got the gist, and that no follow-up statements are necessary.

"Hey, I get it," Bethany replies. "It sounds complicated, but it's your business, sweetheart."

You hum gratefully. The others jump on another topic, but Matt slinks closer to you, with the on-brand glint in his eyes. He says, lowly, "That's good, then."

Your mouth parts in pleasant surprise, as you finally take notice of the way he looks at you. "Say that again, Smithy?"

"You heard me," he answers. Smooth. Matt has been known to be the resident casanova of the cast, with his undeniable charm on and off set. He can get along with absolutely anyone, and this includes the array of women who get pulled in by his charisma.

It's lost on you why he would now set his sights on you, but you can't deny that you enjoy the attention.

Fabien suddenly comes into view with that digital camera of his pointed towards your group. He snaps one of Tom whose raised bottle of beer half covers his smirking face. Then he turns to you and Matt, saying, "Give papa a smile, kids!"

Matt quickly slings an arm around you, making you lean against him. He coolly points to the camera, posing like he usually does. You smile widely, your brain in a pleasant daze from the alcohol, the banter, and the alluring scent of Matt's perfume.

"Send me a copy of that, Fabs," Matt comments after. Fabien will probably post the photo on his usual Instagram slideshow, but Matt happily stays off the socials.

"Gonna get it framed?" you joke, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

"Oh, you bet," he winks at you, making you swallow nervously. Speaking to him now, in this way, you realise just how easily the Matt Smith is able to get with the ladies. Charm practically oozes off of him.

And Daemon was your original favourite, after all.

Fabien and Matt walk you and Phia back to your apartments in the wee hours of the morning. Though your neighbourhood was only 5 minutes away, the lads gallantly insisted that they wouldn't let you go without an escort.

Your group weaves its way through the empty streets of London, chatting and laughing away, the effects of the alcohol yet to wear off. At some point, Matt wraps an arm around you, and you let him keep it that way.

You have grown fond of him, having spent a lot of time with him during filming. And, well, you needed to keep your balance anyway.

Not to mention, he offers a pleasant distraction from having to yearn all the damn time for what you once had with Ewan.

Fabien and Phia walk ahead to her nearby apartment, so you're left with Matt in front of your building.

"We'll be spending a lot more time together this season, fortunately," he says.

"That's kind of a given," you laugh. "Alyna's never going to drop her oath to the Queen."

"And the King."

"Consort," you finish for him.

He laughs freely, shaking his head, before his expression turns a bit serious. He dips his face closer to yours, whispering, "And in real life? Is Alyna sticking with Aemond?"

That stumps you. Matt's blue eyes are indeed arresting, but one mention of Aemond is enough to bring you back into the Ewan Mitchell spiral.

But... you're not his.

You shrug in response, smiling softly, "I guess some things just aren't meant to be."

You become convinced that the universe must be testing you because your phone buzzes in that moment, revealing an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye.

Matt spots it easily, challenging you with, "So what then, beautiful? Are you going to answer the call?"

It buzzes once more, and another time, before you press decline.

Matt doesn't give you the time to regret your decision. He swoops down and plants a soft kiss at the corner of your lips. Nothing too much, but just enough to toe the line of simply being friendly.

"I - I better head inside - " you stammer, your face heating up.

"You better."

"I'll see you soon, Smithy."

He nods, "See you soon, my Alyna."

Ewan can hardly focus on the script in front of him. He struggles to get his lines out efficiently during the table read, and he hopes that no one else notices.

It would be a miracle if you actually take notice of him, with Matt stealing your attention as he sits to your right.

The cast and crew are positioned around the room, and you just happened to be directly across Ewan, right in his line of sight. He would revel in it, but not now, with Matt leaning in once in a while and whispering something in your ear that makes you softly giggle.

How unprofessional. Whatever he is telling you, it sure must be fucking fascinating.

He isn't entirely oblivious of your growing closeness with Matt. He saw the photos of the two of you walking the streets of London, snug against each other, but he chose not to think much of it. After all, how many times has Matt been pictured with an arm wrapped around a costar? That is just how he is. Open and friendly.

Ewan had not been inclined to think it meant something more in your case.

"Ewan," he hears Tom sharply whisper to his left. "It's your line."

The room is silent in anticipation, eager to get on with the script. You lock eyes with him and offer an encouraging smile, and he is just about to reciprocate, but then he notices Matt's arm resting on the back of your seat.

Like he has laid a claim on you.

Ewan ends up grumbling out his lines, lacking the vulnerability that Aemond is meant to be displaying in that scene.

His keeps his expression stoic, trying to do his best to accomplish the task at hand. A tiny consolation is that the script to season three seems to be marginally better than that for the previous season.

There is not a single scene of Aemond and Alyna thus far, but the script is littered with those of Daemon and Alyna. Which makes complete sense, since they're fighting for the same cause, and Daemon has been somewhat of a mentor to the young Alyna.

Ewan liked their dynamic, being a fan of both the characters, and their real-life counterparts. But the scene that is playing out before him may be enough to sway his bias to the contrary.

Daemon and Alyna. You and Matt.

Ewan scoffs to himself, forgetting where he is for a moment. Tom side-eyes his weird behaviour, thinking, the lad must have left his marbles back in America.

Ewan doesn't notice. His thoughts race a mile a minute - Do the writers not see the potential goldmine they've got with the Aemond and Alyna dynamic? Do they not know how crazy it would drive the fanbase?

Is Matt unaware that it was his name - Ewan's, and no one else's - that you were screaming last night?

Your sputtered little pants of his name rise from his memory, your breathing ragged by the time he finished making love to you the third round in the same night.

That... that was his.

You are -

"Mate," Tom clasps him on the shoulder, "drink some water, yeah? You look bloody flushed."

Ewan hums gratefully, nodding once, shaking the image of you from his mind.

After all, he wears his Adidas joggers today, and the thin material would not be able to conceal it if he ended up having a raging hard-on, in front of everyone during the damn table read.

When another scene of Daemon and Alyna comes on, with you and Matt eagerly reciting your lines to each other, the boyish lust that Ewan entertained essentially dies.

He purses his lips, a ghost of a smile, ever the good and supportive costar.

He raises his head to distract himself by looking around the table, eventually locking eyes with Phia, who had already been looking at him strangely.

You okay? she mouths.

His head snaps toward the sound of your laughter before he could respond.

"Shoot, sorry," you smile, apparently having read the wrong line. Everyone at the table waves it off, a cacophony of 'it's alright' and 'you got this' heard around the room.

When you finish the rather long, drawn-out speech Alyna makes, there is an intermission before the next scene.

People begin turning to each other to make comments, some stand to stretch their legs. Then Ewan hears it - "How'd I do, Smithy?" followed by "Not too shabby, my Alyna."

His Alyna?

Ewan flips the bloody table over in his mind.

Ewan calls you the following night, under the pretense of the arrangement.

In truth, he'd take anything. He could sit on your couch and watch paint dry, if it meant being around you.

"Not tonight, Ewan," you say, and his heart sinks.

"Why not?" he asks, uncaring about how downright needy he sounds.

"Uhhhm, I have a friend over," you reveal.

"Phia? I'm sure she'll understand."

"Oh, come on, Ewan. It's not Phia, and even if it was, I wouldn't just send her away."

"Who then?" he insists, but some part of him already knows the answer.

"Fabien," you say, "and Matt. But Fabien already left to go see Bella, so it's just - "

"You and Matt, huh," he spits bitterly. For an actor, he sure is unable to mask his emotions.

"What are you insinuating? We're friends. You're his friend too, Ewan."

"Hmm," his grip on his phone tightens, "you seem a lot closer than friends to me."

"You're being ridiculous," you scoff. "I would ask you to still come over if you want to hang out with us but not if you're being this unpleasant."

"Forget it," he practically snaps, immediately regretting his tone, "let me know when you're less occupied."

"Ewan - "

"It's okay, darling," he cuts you off, wanting to be done with the conversation already. "I'll come see you before the cast shoot." He refers to the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot the entire cast is slated to do in the coming week, the first offering of season three promo.

"Okay," you exhale, then say, "Sansa misses you."

That earns a weak smile out of him. If only her owner could say that she misses him too. "Does she?"

"Mhmm," you respond, and he hears the smile in your voice, "so... so you better come over soon or she might start clawing at the door."

Matt makes his presence known, his voice becoming audible as he walks into the room where you are, asking, "You alright, love?"

"Ewan, I gotta go," you say in a rush.

"Okay," he sighs in defeat. He drops his phone on the couch, then paces around his apartment, needing to get the picture of you and Matt canoodling out of his mind.

He audibly groans. Why must he torture himself so? If you say that you and Matt are just friends, then that must be the case.

My Alyna, Matt had called you.

In a sudden flash of madness or genius, Ewan picks up his phone and redownloads a certain wretched app.

It takes less than a minute, and soon he finds himself back in the mostly uncharted waters of Instagram. Careful not to accidentally like any post as he had before, he makes his way to the section that lets him create a new post.

Scrolling through his photo gallery, it doesn't take long before he finds one to his liking.

No editing is needed. He knows that the image and its subjects need no addition.

In his eyes, you are perfect as you are.

That night marks Ewan's second ever official post on his Instagram, yet again sending the entire fandom in a wild tailspin.

It's a picture of you sitting on top of your bed, hair slightly dishevelled, and with an old pyjama shirt on. Sansa is cradled on your bare thighs, and a smile graces your face as you pet her dotingly. The angle is from the side, where Ewan lay on his designated part of your bed, surreptitiously taking the picture.

The morning light cast a soft glow on your face, and the entire scene had made Ewan wish he never had to leave.

Under the post, reads the caption -

My Alyna.

💌 next chapter

🎧 series mixtape

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @sprinklesprinkle888 (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

In part 8 - the EW photoshoot, more season three prep, and big news regarding Ewan's upcoming film!

I'm taking all your amazing ideas into account, and you'll continue to see smatterings of them in this story.

As always, I can't wait to talk with yous in the comments! Which couple is your endgame? <3

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #chemical override #aemond targaryen x reader

795 notes · View notes

legandairy-horror · 2 months

Text

Does anyone else feel a strange sort of dread waiting for new deltarune chapters?

It sounds crazy right? I admit it's a weird feeling for sure, and I'm not even 100% sure if dread is the right way to describe it. But as more info is revealed and the next chapter inevitably gets closer and closer to releasing I can't help but feel a strange sort of, melancholy? Longing? The only way I can describe it is "when you know the goodbye is coming". The strange somber feeling when you know you’re going to have to leave stuff behind, but aren't quite ready for it yet.

warning: words. Homestuck

In 3 months Chapter 1 will be 6 years old, and in 2 months Chapter 2 will be 3 years old. Deltarune is ostensibly in Early Access but this release schedule puts new chapters closer in time scale to whole sequals if anything, which they most assuredly are not trying to be. This has created a strange situation in the fanbase that I don't think I've ever truly seen anywhere else. One where, In the time between chapters It feels like everyone has had their own chance to decide what Deltarune is to them. To create their own version of this story, to write their own themes that they want to see explored, to imagine their own events and plot twists they want to see play out.

@lynxgriffin Paper Trail Comic Being an Alternate Story following off of chapter 1

@lilybug-02 The Chara Timeline Being one of many interpretations on the popular Asriel & Chara roommates headcannon.

@huecycles Andromeda Chapters being their interpretation on the full game

The innumerable Deltarune Theorists and analysts like HalfBreadChaos, Andrew Cunningham, Stuffed Alpaca, etc. etc.

@vyletbunni Deltatraveler being a whole ass fangame based around a chapter 2 meme that it has long since outlived

And that's kinda the thing isn't it? Once more deltarune comes out, a ton of these projects will just become outdated, it's an inevitability. So what will happen to them? will they become forgotten? maybe, maybe not, it's impossible to tell. but either way it feels kinda sad to think about yknow? that one day all the time and effort spent and all the memories made might one day just cease to exist.

There's a lot more I could say on this topic if given the chance but to keep this tumblr post from morphing into a 2 hour long video essay in text form let me leave off with this.

In the age of the internet and social media there will always be a fan of something. Nothing truly dies quite like it used to anymore, regardless of whatever influencers want you to believe. But that doesn't mean things stop changing, that there wasn't a past that has since been left behind. I'm a Homestuck fan. more specifically I'm a Late Homestuck fan, one who came in after the comic had already ended and it's peak in popularity was long behind it. The fandom's still around all these years later. But it'd be foolish to admit that, 8 years after the comics controversial end, the inescapable trend of new fans replacing old fans has left the fandom wholly disconnected from the monolith that it once was. the only remnants of which lie in decades old discourse and fanfiction. Like old relics of a long forgotten city, waiting to be excavated under a fine layer of dirt.

Before I close out here I just want to make it clear: I'm not saying that we should be trying to return to some nebulous "glorious past" that never really existed. I'm not trying to deride Toby Fox for not working in the sweatshop hard enough to produce more content™, or whatever you wanna try and spin-doctor this post into. It's just a thought that creeps into my head every now that I wanted to share, see if anyone feels the same, yknow?

Besides it's not all doom and gloom. For those of you OG Homestucks who read till the end. You remember Heinoustuck? Guidestuck? Nightfall? Fucking Ke$haStuck? yeah those are still going by the way! after years of inactivity they've now started back up again. some under new authors and some by the same author but still!

You could say a lot about that but to me at least, it makes me feels hopeful in a way. That, even if not everything will survive. we'll at least have some mementos to remember what came before.

#deltarune #utdr #toby fox #deltarune chapter three #deltarune chapter 3 #deltarune chapter 4 #deltarune chapter four #deltarune update #deltarune fanfiction #deltarune discussion #homestuck #fandom

621 notes · View notes

yzzart · 10 months

Note

Tom Blyth being really fucking obsessed with actress!Reader, like constant physical contact, many kisses, maybe some moments on set? I love your writing 💖

"Oh, the lovebirds."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: another compilation between you and tom? we have!

word count: 538!

notes: thank you for requesting this, anon and i hope you know that i love you and beg you to request more ideas!

"See them over there?" — Recording and switching the camera to frontal mode, Rachel pointed to you and Tom sitting under the tree, in the forest setting, together. — "Two lovebirds in love." — Tom's arm was around your shoulder, he was saying something that was, technically, impossible to identify, but then he left a long kiss on your forehead. — "Look!"

Rachel saved that video with a triumphant, happy smile on her face in an album she had made specifically for behind the scenes and it was the thousandth video of you and Tom that she had saved. — The first and biggest fan of both of you.

It wasn't difficult, and not at all complicated, to find behind-the-scenes photos of 'The ballad of songbirds and snakes'; so soon, it wasn't hard to see photos and videos of you and Tom together on set. — So much for you posting and Rachel too.

There were videos where he put Coriolanus' peacemaker helmet on you; your hands between his rough and cut hair, commenting on the possibility of him temporarily turning blonde;; a photo they took of him and him lying on the grass. — Several moments recorded, captured and saved with lots of love.

Also, the small and peculiar fact that you left written messages or just heart symbols on paper, sometimes torn up, for each other. — Hunter thought this was cute, and she even helped Tom put one of them in your trailer.

In every interview, to repeat, in every interview, Tom always tries to be in contact with you; mainly, the physical. — It doesn't matter if your chair is a little far from his, or if you or he are on the other side of the row. — Nothing can stop that man.

The cameras record, with attention and great focus, Tom holding your hand while you answered questions from the interviewer, who was also watching, and admiring the rings that were present on your fingers; and that some were gifts from him. — If Tom had the opportunity, he would never let go of you.

He contemplated carefully; distributing affection with his fingers on your hand and your palm, at certain moments, even tickling you and, sometimes during the interviews, a brief laugh accompanied your words.

And every time it happens, that passionate smile wrapped in such a strong emotion curves on Blyth's lips.

Well, it's not just the contacts and touches between your hands that are captured by cameras and the watchful eyes of fans; Tom's arm resting on the back of your chair, your leg touching his, your head on his shoulder and once again Tom's hand resting on your knee. — You looked like a pair of magnets.

Oh, and not to mention, a moment from an interview, another one from Vogue to be a little specific, in which Tom removes one of the rings that was on his fingers, the one that is always on his pinky, and decided to put it on your finger. — God, your fans went completely crazy on all social media, especially on Twitter. — It wasn't so perfect, in the right measure, but you didn't remove it in any way.

During the premieres, several photos with you kissing Tom's cheek and him kissing your hand, like a knight, spread across networks and even on the film's official accounts. — And Rachel commented on all of them. — And the photos that show Tom's hands on your waist, holding you so gently accompanied by such a sweet and intimate look and following you wherever you went became your favorites.

Flashes and snippets of interviews, videos of Tom's hand on your back, helping you with your long dress and him brushing some locks out of your face while you answered questions. — Even the interviewers smiled witnessing those acts.

And there's always a like from Tom Blyth on Instagram posts of these photos.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

2K notes · View notes

anadiasmount · 9 months

Text

glory box - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: pr stunts looks good on paper and online, but no one ever truly know what happens behind closed doors. when deciding to abruptly terminating your contract, you’re faced with a unsettlement that can’t be resolved until you confess the truth and nothing but the truth.

wc: 7k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa🗣️: this contain smut so minors please dni! 🔞 content ahead contains unprotected p and v, being tied up, handjob, oral on f, and being edged. a bunch of angst but fluff as promised! my longest story yet and I really love this :PP insta au's included throughout the story! like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

the streets were quieter than usual, always filled with people walking up and down, on their bikes, or with loud cars driving by. it could have been due to the weather, the grey skies and cold air, immediately making people rather stay inside than stroll around. you would rather be those people, either finish packing for your move to germany, or sit on the couch and eat sweets all night.

the decision was made rapidly. being accepted to uni and the internship that would help you start of your career, going full ride as long as you made no mistakes or fell behind. you felt utterly grateful and full of joy, but that would mean moving away from the place you called home, to a newer city alone.

here you had your uni friends, and some family, you weren't alone. leaving all this behind meant leaving them which you weren't prepared for. no one is ever prepared for a sudden goodbye, you hated goodbyes, it made you feel even guiltier. it wasn’t easy to break the news, with many tears and reminiscing, though the support would always be there, their words of encouragement making you feel less regretful.

although you had one thing left to do, which was terminate the pr contract with no other than him. jude bellingham. the pr stunt that was made strictly professional turned into no other a friends with benefits situation. it was risky business, and became awkward when strangers or close friends asked you personal questions about the relationship. kids, marriage, how long you had been together, how you met. your life became a lie and you were tired of that.

was it a foolish idea? totally. but you needed the money nonetheless, school became expensive and then you hardly could eat because you could never afford the groceries after paying utilities, your job not paying you enough even after the amount of work you put in. if there was another way, you wouldn't have hesitated to take it.

you weren't looking forward to this, because saying goodbye to jude would make every plan and decision you made official. you would have had your pr manager do it for you but you felt the need for closure, even though it would be hard to receive that when jude was famously known everywhere. you and him were famously known everywhere. the it couple.

they only saw what was posted online or on paper. a happy smiling couple walking into a dinner setting hand to hand, a media event consisting of many red carpet photos, being “discreetly” caught late at night stealing kisses, oh don't get started on the game day photos, or photo dumps jude did on his feed and story dedicated to you… they never knew what happened behind closed doors. it was all fake.

the door opened, the creak making you squint your eyes and cover your ear. you saw jude walk in with the guy who made all of the pr stunt come to light, jonah. jude sent you his pearly white smile, a sudden wave of nausea hit you, reminding you about the first time you came here to officially sign off on the deal, now it was you terminating it.

you quickly greeted jonah, avoiding jude because now you felt it impossible to do what you wanted to do. his confusion went unnoticed by jonah, but you could see hurt flash him, as jude’s body language completely changed. his hand trying to discreetly catch your attention to him. if there was one thing jude hated more than anything, it was being left out.

“so to what do we owe this pleasure, y/n? must be something good?” jonah sipped onto his warm latte completely oblivious. you pursed your lips and looked up, feeling jude’s brown eyes drown into you. he watched as you pulled out a manilla folder, your hands slightly shaking as you opened it to reveal the contract.

“i’m here to terminate the contract we have,” you said softly with a barely present smile, jonah choked on his drink, turning away to cough loudly in pure shock. you couldn't see it but you could almost feel the plastered face of confusion on jude’s face at your words. jude was stunned, not able to process your words. terminate our contract?

“what are you talking about? what are you on about?” jude spoke as his brummie accent popped out more than usual, furrowing his brows as his hand finally touched your thigh trying to get you to look at him, but it only irritated him more as your attention was on jonah.

“you said if we wanted out, of this,” you pointed at the two of you, the empty space, “we had to give each other, well everyone, a two months heads up,” you stuttered, feeling your nervous system go crazy.

“i spoke to you about this a while ago, but i made my decision…” you said surely, jonah nodding his head either in affirmation or still slightly stunned by your sudden loss in the deal. “y/n, i don't get why though? we still have a couple of months left? we have upcoming events and charities!” jude said with a crazed look.

when jude saw you couldn't face or let alone speak to him like an adult, he scoffed and leaned back onto the chair, “no! i don’t agree to this. i won't agree to terminate the contract.” so many thoughts raced into his head, desperately wanting to know why you wanted out, or if someone was bothering you. he wanted to fight for you, to keep you away from whatever was pushing you away.

“i’m afraid it is in the contract jude… if the other party wants out they have the right to do so… with or without the other person’s agreement,” jonah spoke defeatedly, running a hand along his forehead. “i’m guessing you know the terms and conditions that apply to this right?” he asked facing you, “yes, my pr person told me about it. i'm fully aware of the consequences.”

jude couldn't wrap his head around the fact you would be going along with this. that in just two weeks you would be gone, and a present reminder of the taint you left behind. was it the sudden fame you got that bothered you into doing this? had he done or said something to push you away? was there someone else who got your attention?

that made him even more upset, and jealous even. thinking of someone else making you happy when it wasn't him next to you. he envied the person if there was one, who got to hold your hand, smile at you, or dared to look into your eyes. those eyes he watched rolled back as he hit that spot that made you shiver breathless, the eyes that glistened when you laughed, eyes that he could get lost into, the eyes that never lied. even if the contract didn't state it like he envisioned, you were his.

maybe it was a mistake to start a habit or create that barrier of awkwardness when you agreed to have what you had. but soon he realized just how attached he was to you, calling whenever he felt the need to be next to you, making unscheduled dates to see you even if it was for an hour or two, always having his arm around you no matter where you went.

“it’s so beautiful here!” you said excitedly, with your eyes dazed and smile as you stared into the tulip field. you ushered him to hurry, immediately walking to the rows of flowers that layed ahead of you. he couldn’t stop watching, the way the sunset had a glow on you as you leaned down every now and then to smell the flowery scent.

his hands engulfed your from behind, making you laugh loudly and turning to hug him thanking him quickly. It didnt feel fake, it felt real, the way his heart stopped everytime you spoke or laughed, when you pointed in the distance, when you told him a childhood story of how you became obsessed with gardens.

“if i could buy this field, it would all be yours. i would do anything to see you this happy and excited every day… you’re so beautiful y/n…” he tucked your hair back and kissed you. it felt exactly how he planned the date, with butterflies and a sense of home.

“i’ll have the terminated contract ready by next early next month. it will be signed by me and jude by then, you can drop them off at the office after you sign,” jonah said. the three of you said nothing, not a single peep or action. you jumped, the table shaking as the drinks almost spilled, when jude stood up and walked out and yelled out, “this is bullshit!”.

your heart thumped in apprehension, knowing jude reacted the way you pictured it. your eyes followed him as he rapidly walked out, disappearing into the crowds of people by the intersection. your eyes stung, feeling the irritation and picturing just how red they would get, jonah squeezed your hand in comfort, “do you wanna talk about it? i know it’s not my place to ask, but i’m open to hear…”

you hesitated to speak but you felt like you owed it to him at least, “i’ve accepted to move abroad for school and work, and i’m moving away soon. i thought about it closely enough and i just don't think physically and mentally could’ve managed this pr relationship with my daily life. i did it most off for a new chapter and start, to leave out the old and bring in the new.”

“well, first of all congratulations! i’m very proud of you for always being a tough fighter and always dedicated to your studies. it takes a warrior to do that especially when dealing with a contract like this, having to judge your every move and ignore the comments they say. like you said, if you felt the need to begin something new, go for it! you’re young and smart, and i know this move will be perfect,” jonah said encouraging.

“and i’m glad you were able to think of the risks and sacrifices you would’ve faced if you continued it. the traveling, not being able to focus on studies or on the job, the fake smiles and interviews, plastering your face here and there for companies knowing you weren't happy. it doesn't make you selfish, quite frankly it makes you stronger, y/n,” jonah continued.

“i know it isn't just that though... something deeper happened between you and jude. whatever it is i feel like you should tell him before it's too late. even a blind bird could see the tension, i think that is why it made your relationship even more believable… it didn't look like a pr stunt to me, especially with the hidden glances.”

you rapidly blinked the tears that threatened to fall down your hot cheeks, forcing yourself to smile and show no indication of how the move, jude, terminating the contract made you feel. blinking away at the image of jude’s face being hurt, you never wanted to hurt him, but the inconsistency the two of you had become insufferable.

while what you and jude were doing made you feel alive, you wanted more. which scared him as his sole focus was football. it should've never happened, it was all a mistake, and you hated yourself now more because of it. for allowing yourself to get attached, to be consumed away by his words and kisses, for making you believe there was something more than stupid words on a sheet of paper.

you sat quietly on the carpet, the paintbrush in your hand stroking the white canvas, with different lines and shapes, colors and patterns as you painted. jude had his tongue slightly peeking, a look of concentration as he focused on perfecting every trace of color on his canvas.

“jude?” he replied with a hum, still focused on painting.

it was a topic you thought about every time you had sex, or shared an unexpected kiss. would this probably ruin things maybe… but it would mean you tried. you sighed and nervously chuckled, your thumbs running on the pads of your fingers as you took a deep breath an asked, “after the contract ends, where do we go from here? us i mean…”

his head slowly rose up… an eyebrow raised with a face of questioning. he didn’t anticipate you asking this, taken at back and chuckled a bit. your smile fell, feeling embarrassed as you had the urge to scratch the tip of your brow in nervousness. He cleared his throat and took a sip of water, his eyes bored into yours.

“well, we end of course… the contract ends so do we, no? we could still see each other, when we feel the need to you know, but i don’t see why we would continue this? whatever you're trying to imply? remember this is just for public figures, for the two of us to benefit from it… its all an act. it's all fake…”

you felt as your heart was taken out of you, empty and felt lied to. all an act? all fake? you knew it was a pr stunt, but you thought maybe he would feel the same for you after sharing constant nights and kisses together. Was there anything inside that maybe felt the slightest bit for you? with a painful smile you responded.

“oh… right.”

“please don’t tell him jonah. not a single peep of what we spoke…” you pleaded, wiping away a tear that let out. jonah opened his mouth to deject but closed it, understanding you needed time to process what was going on in your life. he licked his lips and closed the folder, standing up and buttoning his blazer, “please don't make the mistake of leaving knowing there's more that needs to be said to him. you’ll regret it…”

—————————

spottedcelebreity

liked by: 349,908, and others

spottedcelebrity: after recent rumors of the couple splitting up, it seems like jude and y/n are together. what is your opinion on them? live show is present at 9pm so stay tuned.

comments:

user34: i still think its a pr stunt... theres no way they've been together so long.

username3: he looks so good!!! y/n is a lucky woman to have jude as her bf.

user50: the flowers, he is so perfect.

username21: fuck jude, i want to see y/n? ik my queen ate with her fit!!

username589: i swear, how are they still together? they weren't posting at all like they used to?

—————————

the limo ride was quiet, soft music playing in the background as you nervously bit the nail on your thumb. your leg bounced rapidly, your dark gown making flowy movements, attempting to distract yourself from the over 6ft tall man who sat beside you. before you could successfully terminate the contract, there was a club charity event downtown, which would be your last appearance together.

you would’ve thought your “relationship” ended that day at the restaurant, but jonah still needed the two of you to post content, even if it was a small glimpse because technically you still had those two months left. you didn't want to get sued or be treated worse, for his and your sake you agreed. a month and a half filled with quiet silence, unspoken feelings, and forced smiles.

you couldn’t bring yourself to tell jude you loved him, that for you jude meant more than a stupid contract, but he obviously wasn't ready for that. that didn't stop him from talking to other girls and making you feel less without knowing. he never was ready for more with you, focused on other people and things, and you really wanted to avoid another heartbreak before moving. the idea of never being enough for him hurt you, because after so long you sacrificed what you had in life to be with him. your friends, your family, your privacy.

“i know we aren't on best terms but let’s keep it civil,” jude suddenly spoke up, making you nod carefully and look out at the window again. jude’s hand itched to interlock with yours, looking down to see you wearing the rings and bracelet he got for you adorned on your hand.

he fisted his hand and knocked it on his thigh gently, a million thoughts raced his head as to whether the club dinner would go to plan and no one suspecting a thing. he was nervous as lately there have been so many headlines saying you had broken up. jude wasn’t stupid and he knew you were hiding something from him, he just didn't why you hid it from him.

even though you had been nervous, it didn't stop you from reaching over and grabbing his larger palm and conjoining them together with yours. this was his day today, and the good persona in you wanted to assure he wouldn't be a mess thanks to your situation and feelings. your thumb softly stroked his skin, making jude smile inside, as butterflies appeared in his chest.

“i know i don't say it enough, but thank you for everything you've done for me. the traveling, sacrifices, events, the fake smiles… everything we did together,” jude said knowing this would be his final chance to make things right. he could feel your hand loosen its grip, giving him big eyes as you heard him talk. “i am going to miss you… so much y/n.”

“me too jude,” you gave him a small smile, leaning up and pressing a faint kiss on his cheek to avoid leaving a print, but he wouldn't have cared either way, he loved when you did that. he wanted to relish every last second knowing it meant you'd never seen him again. he couldn't tell but you were a nervous wreck, you pushed your feelings aside once again to calm him, but deep down all you could feel was cold air and a pit in your stomach at his words. “i am going to miss you y/n… so much…”

you so badly wanted to run away in that moment, for allowing those words to mean more than they should. with a heavy heart and shaky hands you stepped out and walked out hand to hand inside the event center, jude glancing down every now and then to check in. your hand found home around his bicep, faking all the smiles and laughs when the media team asked both of you questions, complimenting him for his season so far, making sure to be the supportive girlfriend you have been so far.

you immediately downed the glass of champagne as soon as the waiter offered, fanning your face because the room became hot. you said your hello’s to other wags there, taking pictures and talked with them as the night passed. you stayed close to where jude was as you watched him talk with his teammates and coaching staff.

you checked your socials and immediately found yourself clicking on his story, a bereal picture taken of you when you were in the car when you had held his hand looking out and the small kiss print selfie of him. you giggled and hearted it, scrolling along some fan pictures and comments filled with relief as you two were still together.

—————————

spottedcelebrity

liked by: 547,768, and others.

spottedcelebrity: y/n was seen wearing a glamorous dress, as she approached her boyfriend jude who waited outside their car with open arms. the couple seemed to have missed each other as their hug lasted a minute before sharing a quick kiss. what do we think about these two?

comments:

user39: same old same old.

username1: i think jude could do way better than her...

↪️user45: no way? i honestly think with his lifestyle SHE could do better than someone who runs for a ball every day.

user23: she looks so beautiful, shes so gorgeous always! 💕

username88: anyone hear the rumor about her moving away?👀

↪️ username3: WHAT

↪️ user43: me too! some wag gossip page posted it but we don't know if its true.

↪️ user73: if she moves away that means they break up...

↪️ spottedcelebrity: well that being said... stayed tuned for our 9pm live show...👀

user44: i'm so happy they're together! she's so supportive and such a good person to judge :(((

—————————

even though the night was dedicated to him, you still had your fun. playing a game of poker and winning while sitting on jude’s lap and feeling him pepper kisses on your shoulder delicately, danced with the girls, and took picture with them at the booth. you clapped loudly as jude had been awarded a small trophy for the season, when he returned he kissed your lips softly, savouring the moment by leaving a last kiss on your forehead.

your hands slightly scratched the back of his neck as you slowed danced together, it was so late but no one wanted to leave. your feet ached but you could care less as you wanted to hold him like you were, to appreciate him for the last time. words didn’t need to be said, the way you both held each other said enough.

the sudden rush of sadness hit you, feeling your hands come to a halt, and a desire to be honest. it wouldn’t matter two weeks from now. two weeks from now you’d be living a different life than currently, attempting to forget every trace of jude. beginning a new chapter and living life to its fullest.

“i haven’t been honest with you lately jude…”

jude swallowed hard, grabbing the back of your head gently and pulling you to see your watery eyes and biting your lip. “talk to me. say what you have to say. believe me, you’ll be doing us both a favor by saying what you have to say. no matter how much it hurts or feels… put me out my misery. i need to know why you're doing this. to us…”

his hand remained there, holding you in his place, with his jaw clenched, his soft glistening eyes begging you for answers. your chest flooded with warmth, “if i do say what's on my mind… i’m afraid i’ll do the biggest mistake and regret… i’ve tried in the past, and it always take a toll…”

“i’m moving to germany,” you deadplanted. jude released a breath, stuck in place, he scowled and gave you an unsure side smile. “what do you mean moving to germany? what for? for how long?” he asked with a insisting tone, brows tucked in. he could handle a couple months top, but forever is something he couldn’t do. it was becoming too late and your words were becoming his biggest nightmare become reality.

“jude, what is the most thing that scares you the most?” the interviewer asked. jude thought about the answer, tapping his bearded chin with his index finger, a taunting smile with playful eyes. you stifled a laugh, covering your mouth not wanting to seem disrespectful.

it was you. to lose you.

“probably my girlfriend y/n. it’s my biggest fear yet, to think of anything happening or her not being with me? yeah that’s what scares me the most,” he nodded as your mouth agape, you offered the camera a nervous smile. just when you assumed you couldn’t be more in love, this was the tip of the iceberg.

“i’m moving for school, i’ve been accepted to their program and their internship that can help me later on in my career... i genuinely didn’t think i’d get accepted but i did, and i’m doing it…” you told. jude shook his head in surprise, blinking rapidly to see if this was actually happening. jude was attempting to comprehend, how you could’ve kept this secret so long away from him.

everything was making sense to him. the random cancelations, when you didn’t text back, when you abruptly left the next morning after having sex, no more ‘good morning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, how you dodged his kisses even when it was the two of you alone. he saw all the signs but ignored them. it was his fault. for not being able to see how things were being portrayed.

jude grabbed your hand, leading you out to a private hall in the venue, and then outside to a white balcony. you tried to keep up, but with your heels and urgency to run it became difficult. some of his teammates and wives gave you suspicious looks, making you give them a reassuring smile and mouth a “we’ll be right back.”

jude paced back and forth on the concrete, clearly stressing, you sat on the small bench by the door. “you were just gonna get up and leave? just like that? without saying anything to me?” he asked his voice cracking, walking over to you. “i mean you wouldn’t care? you said so yourself that day, that when the contract ends we end,” you quoted his words.

jude felt guilty because he remembered he had said that. he could still see the painful smile on your face when he said those words. “i don’t get you jude. one day you want me, the next day you don’t? why would it matter to you if i left? all you’ve made me feel is like a shitty person. you use me one day, give me hope something could happen between us just for you to push me away. yeah, i sure do matter to you,” you sassed.

“it does matter to me. you matter to me. do you think i wouldn't feel anything for you after this year and a half?”

“well, i don’t know jude. what do you think? i’ve constantly shared what i feel when i’m around you, and you don’t even bother, so why should i? it hurts me, i feel embarrassed at the amount of times i tried, but it will never be enough for you. we’re in this pr mess because of you!” you yelled out. it wasn’t right to blame him, for everything including the pr, you just couldn't hold back on the anger you felt. after holding it for so long.

“i’m sorry but you agreed to it remember? you had your reasons i had mine,” jude retorted. “this is why. this is what i was afraid of. the constant arguing, not being able to make time for each other, the trust issues. i’m scared of losing you even if it is due to the smallest thing. i hate thinking of you not being in my life because it hurts me. to lose you would hurt me.”

“you’re just saying that..”

“i’m not just saying that. it’s how i feel about us and for you. my whole life has been dedicated to football and quite frankly i don’t know if i’m enough for you. i don’t know how to do all this… i don’t have the experience, though it feels right being with you. with or without the contract. i hope you know what i’m getting to… you’re more than enough y/n.”

something inside you want to not to believe him that it would be one of those moments again. but the way he sat here begging with his eyes for you not to go made you understand there was more to what he was saying. “all those times i pushed you away i thought i was doing what’s best but turns out it was the opposite. i’m tired of that, i just want to start fresh. i won’t hold you back from your dream, but please, try to understand me, ” jude pleaded.

“i do understand you jude, it's just troubling to find a solution to this after the amount of times we pushed each other away,” you said with your voice cracking. “i just wanna be yours…” you confess tears sliding down your cheeks, unable to get rid of the pain and chill feeling you experienced.

“you are mine baby… from the moment you walked into that office, when we signed those papers, after our date in the tulip fields, you’ve always been. i was just a coward to continue letting my overthinking get in the way of our love,” he pulled you onto his lap, stroking your hair back, “please don’t leave me here alone… i love you y/n.”

“you love me?” you stuttered tears no longer coming out watching jude with wide eyes to see if you heard properly. your heart hammered in your chest, jude felt like he could hear his own pulse beat rapidly, he was finally expressing how he felt and there was no holding back. he wanted to make sure you knew how he felt, that you were on the same page as him.

“how could i not? you changed my soul from a dark place to where now i picture us in that field of tulips. the moment i met you i knew you were special, everything about you captivated me, your smile, laugh, eyes, your kindness. i know i’m not big on communication, but it feels like a relief to finally say this,” jude kisses your wrist thumb tracing over your knuckles as he continues. “i love you, and to have someone who loves me like you do, is so grateful…”

“let’s get out of here jude…”

the bedroom door to his room opened quickly, jude placing you on the floor before going over and shutting it. he strides over again, grabbing your face not caring about your makeup, and leans down to capture your lips with his. your hands settled locked on his wrist, allowing your body to rest at his mercy.

“it scared me to think you would go away and be alone. where i can’t protect you or hold you like this when i please,” jude whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “don’t ever do that to me again. i can’t afford to lose you baby, ever,” jude confessed tucking a stand of hair back, closing his eyes and allowing the moment to pass.

“i promise i won’t jude. you have my word.”

jude placed soft kisses all over your collarbone, his beard tickling you as his hand moved down your spine to slowly unzip your gown. your head felt cloudy as his eyes stared at the black lacy set of lingerie, roaming over every beauty mark and parts he wanted to see uncovered. “to think you were walking around with this underneath without me knowing…” jude tsked.

jude kisses a small mole by your boob “every inch,” then down to a faint scar on your shoulder “of you…”, he ran his tongue along your skin, making you lose balance and squeeze your legs together, “is perfect. so perfect and beautiful.”

“jude…” you said shakily, he hummed, his hands gripping your waist and bringing you to him. “don’t get shy with me baby… i’ve seen you like this many times. this feels different because we’ve now said i love you to each other…” jude kisses your lips fervently, groaning at your sweet taste once again.

“do you have any idea how crazy you make me feel?” jude asked, ending the question with a ‘hmm’. “how long i waited to hear you say those words? how you consume my everyday thoughts…” jude groaned, and squeezed your ass making you grip his biceps tightly. “i want to make you all mine. not on a sheet of paper, here tonight…”

“then what are we waiting for jude? i'm here…” you say breathlessly, “i’m all yours with or without that stupid contract.”

the kiss was different from the one he gave you in the hall an hour ago. this kiss was filled with urgency and neediness, yet also with undeniying love. he felt you crumble for him, your hand on his cheek not wanting for him to pull away. he couldn’t pull away, addicted to how you tasted, how your lips bit his bottom one and watched it pull back.

he walked you over to the bed, your legs spreading for him as your back hit the silk sheets. your back arched at the cold feeling and sensation, pulling away from the kiss and let out a small whine. jude kisses your jaw and knee, standing up with his lips slightly swollen and tainted with your lipstick, gulping at the sight of your body.

he made sure you were watching, your eyes stuck on his big hands slowly remove his suit jacket. his fingers slowly unbuttoning the white shirt, revealing his bare torso, abs and happy trail that you wanted to touch. he swallowed a breath, looking at the way you thighs suddenly clenched closed as he removed his belt and dress pants.

your chest raised up and down, your propped arms now itching to be closer to jude as he got on the bed with you. “can i touch you jude?” your voice low, jude’s eyes going wide before nodding. you crawled over to him, where he layed on his back just with his black calvins and his prominent big bulge. you bit the inside of your cheek, filling the empty spot where you would cuddle his right side.

you kissed his lips teasingly, hearing a small groan escape his throat, trailing down to his neck sucking the spot beneath his pulse, down to his chest which rapidly began to rise at your actions. “is there anything you want me to do?” you ask shyly sitting up, feeling intimidated by his brown eyes that were darker than usual. “take this off for me…” at his deeper voice he helped you unclip the lace bra, groaning at the soft flesh of your boobs, erect nipples reaching his view.

“you have the most perfect body y/n…”

your hand slowly traced down his happy trail, nails raking, observing the way his abs sucked in struggling to calm down. “relax jude…” you said tauntingly with a smirk, jude closed his eyes in desire as he felt your hand reach inside his boxers. he shivered feeling your erect nipples touch against the warm skin on his side, now fully hard as you tucked him out his boxers.

you slowly stroked his shaft, hand barely being able to wrap around his complete girth. your thumb circled the tip, pre-cum oozing and adding a layer of lube. he felt hard and heavy against your palm, kissing his neck to add to the satisfaction he was feeling. his right hand squeezed your ass cheek, as his left palm clenched the sheets beneath him.

the way you slowly yet squeezed him, was adding fire to the pit of his stomach. he couldn’t focus on anything, rolling his eyes back everytime you squeezed him or gave him doe eyes. “fuckkk y/n… you’re making me feel so good baby… keep doing that… just like that…” jude moaned, squeezing your ass cheek again moving around.

you continued the rhythm, feeling your arousal spreading as you heard and felt the way you made him feel. his groans, the way his adam’s apple bobbed, his low dazy eyes watching your small hand stroke him. he was so close, you increase his high by beginning to stroke faster, “like this jude?” you asked knowing the answer. “just like that… oh shit… shit i’m so close y/n. you're gonna make me cum…” you kissed him, hiding the loud moans he released as he shook around almost trembling.

you giggled hearing him chuckle deeply. “look at the mess i made because of you…” you hid in the crook of his neck feeling almost too shy and embarrassed to face him. you cleaned your hand with the rag, looking at jude when you licked a small stripe off your finger, jude immediately grabbed your hips and turned you over.

he removed the lacy thong, bringing you down to where your sex met where he tucked himself back into the boxers still hard even after cumming. the black tie he wore was placed by the night desk. he knelt down, your pussy glistening and begging to be touched, eaten. he took his arm and tugged you closer, watching the way you anxiously waited for him to do something.

you felt his tongue slowly lick from your entrance to your clit, arching your back in pleasure, a hand coming to play with your boob as you felt him dig in deeper. he knew exactly how you liked it, the places, the movements, he was enamored with how delicate and sensitive you were. “no… please jude…” you whined, looking down to see him smirking when he stopped his movements.

“patience baby… relax for me y/n…” he kissed both your hip bones, the skin at the bottom of your belly button and down to your inner thighs, he was teasing you, drawing out your long-awaited orgasm as much as possible. “that’s not fair jude. i gave what you wanted, what you asked for…” you say out of breath.

he placed a messy kiss on your clit, the bundle of nerves then sucked between his lips as he pulled away again. you moved around the bed, finding it hard to stay still as he continued to devour you, moaning and biting your lip. “if you keep moving around i won't let you cum…” he mocked, watching you rapidly shake your head no.

“then do something about it…” you sassed back. he raised his brow, coming back up from between your legs, glancing to the black tie that was placed on the stand. “you would like that no? for me to tie you up?” he taunted, leaning over to grab the slim material. he asked you first and you agreed giving him your wrists, feeling as he tied them on the headboard.

he returned to his original spot, his large hands smoothing your sides as you struggled to pull away. he gave you a messy kiss yearning for more, jude circled his tongue on your nipple sucking the bead as you arched your back, his tongue traced all the way down to your clit, where you let out a raw moan.

he held you down on your hips, feeling as his tongue entered you, he was being messy, being able to hear the heavy breathing and slurping he did as jude continued eating you. the familiar heat in your stomach returned, if he kept up with this, you would be on the edge of releasing. “i’m s-s-so close jude… please don’t stop…” you sobbed, pulling your hands from the hold on the headboard.

the intrusion of his two fingers had you shivering in pleasure, moaning his name loudly. you tugged on the fabric, jude pumping in and out as he took control again. He licked your clit teasingly, going up and down and side to side. “oh my god,” you moaned in relief as your orgasm hit you, your face tucking to your arm as your legs shook, jude still pumping and licking.

he propped back up, sucking the juices from his fingers, watching how your chest rose heavily trying to calm down from your high. jude undid the tie, leaving one wrist still wrapped with it, he kissed you sweetly hearing a hum of delight from you, “doing so good for me y/n… turn to your side for me,” he asked and you obliged.

you laid on your side, giving jude your free wrist back to him where he tied them back up securely. you heard him move around the room, guessing he was probably fully undressing himself. he returned back, hovering over you as his tip poked your coated walls… you bit your lip in anticipation.

jude entered you, let out a small gasp from your lips as your nails dug into your palms feeling him thrust deeper into you. you could feel all of him, how hard he was, how desperate he was, how big he was, he fully stretched you out and you loved the feeling. you couldn’t hold back the whines and whimpers you let out, the position you were in allowed you to feel everything, as he continued to thrust into you.

“not so soon y/n…” he pulled back, he could feel your walls clamp down on him, squeezing the life out knowing you were approaching your second orgasm. “no! no, not again please jude…” you pleaded for him to make you cum, he gently placed you on your back, hands tied behind you now. he spread your legs open, leaning down as he thrusts into you again, your head going to the side moaning, “jude, you feel so big… so good…”

“oh shit, shit shit…” jude grunted, kissing your neck and leaving a small suckle behind, his hands wanting to give up and crash his body on top of you. the way he was manhandling you had you close to seeing stars and cloud nine. his thrusts came to a halt, grabbing you gently to pull you up and into his chest. he undid the complete tie, your hands finding home around his neck.

jude extended his legs, not caring if he was on the opposite side of the bed. the pillows were on the floor, the sheets scrambled all over, and clothes scattered all over the room. “i didn't hurt you did i?” he gently grabbed your wrists, placing soft kisses on them, “no jude.. you didn’t.”

your legs digged into the sheets, a hand on his shoulder as the other one brought his face to yours, leaving no space between as you kissed him. his tongue entered your mouth, being able to still taste the champagne and sweet taint on you. he leaned his forehead on yours, grabbing your hips, “i love you.”

your chest warmed again hearing him confess his underlying love for you, “and i love you.”

you reached between the space, bringing his cock to your entrance feeling him stretch you out again as you sat on him completely. you lifted your hips up and then brought them back down, “shit baby… you feel so tight like this,” jude groaned grabbing and pulling you closer as you balanced yourself by holding his broad shoulders.

“Jude…” you murmured throwing your head back in pleasure struggling almost to take him as a whole, feeling the way he kissed your boob and squeezed it with his hand. you were chasing that second orgasm for the two of you, rocking your hips up and down and back and forth, like an expert of course.

your nails raked down his back and chest, as you felt get closer and closer, jude following behind. you cry out in pleasure, jude gripping your ass as you continued to bounce on him. it was a sight for him, to watch you like he was, to see your angelic face, eyes closed, brows pulled in and lips were still swollen from the makeout session before. “such a good girl for me,” jude praised.

jude felt so lucky, so lucky he helped you move against his cock, wanting to feel your walls clench even tighter as you reached your orgasm, not being able to get enough of you. “i’m gonna cum y/n…” jude warned gripping your waist and feeling the haze inside him beginning to spread around as you whimpered, tears stroking your cheeks.

“oh fuck, jude i’m cum-” you couldn't finish your sentence as your wave of orgasm spread through your whole body. jude cummed inside you, the ropes of his cum feeling hot as they spread all over your walls, down to his shaft. your ears ringed, head tucked into his neck as you caught your breath. his breathing matched yours, unable to shake off the lingering post-orgasm.

with your closed eyes, jude brought your lips to his, kissing them gently making you smile at the softness from him. jude never left you unattended, he always made sure you were left clean and comfortable, after-sex cuddles were his favorite, and right now that's all he craved for.

“thank you jude,” you say, not only thanking him for this but also for being the person you dreamed of being with. despite what you had gone through with him, that didn't matter as a new chapter of your life would start here, forgetting every past detail to move forward. jude couldn't stop kissing anywhere, your neck, cheeks, tip of nose, jaw, and shoulders, he wanted you to feel loved. loved by him. only him.

“never ever leave my side okay? i need you here with me at all times… my girl, my only girl only, y/n.”

—————————

spottedcelebrity

liked by: 1,090,222, and others.

spottedcelebrity: steamy kiss shared with our favorite couple just right outside by his dinner! seems like this two couldn't wait to get the party started 😉👀

comments:

user2: OH?

username29: CHAT IS THIS REAL?

username194: the way he grabs her, oh lord end me now.

user3984: this will be the reason of my death.

username594: so not approprite? in public what the hell?

↪️ user11: oh shut up. let them live their lives.

—————————

ynusername added to their insta stories!

—————————

judebellingham posted on their feed!

judebellingham

liked by: ynusername, gioreyna, vinijr, camavinga, jobebellingham, fedevalverde, brahim, joselu, 3,540,999 others.

judebellingham: complete along side her 🤍

comments:

user93: they saw the pictures didn't they...

ynusername: love you handsome 🤍

↪️ judebellingham: love you more princess 🤍🤍

↪️ username873: HE CALLED HER PRINCESS OMG 💔

gioreyna: my bro, miss you hella ❤️

jobebellingham: ❤️

username: we saw what ya'll did...

user67: he is so bf coded.

—————————

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham fluff #football fanfic #footballer #football x you #football x reader #football imagine #judey thoughts 5️⃣

1K notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 10 months

Text

An Epic antitrust loss for Google

A jury just found Google guilty on all counts of antitrust violations stemming from its dispute with Epic, maker of Fortnite, which brought a variety of claims related to how Google runs its app marketplace. This is huge:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/11/technology/epic-games-google-antitrust-ruling.html

The mobile app store world is a duopoly run by Google and Apple. Both use a variety of tactics to prevent their customers from installing third party app stores, which funnels all app makers into their own app stores. Those app stores cream an eye-popping 30% off every purchase made in an app.

This is a shocking amount to charge for payment processing. The payments sector is incredibly monopolized and notorious for its price-gouging – and its standard (wildly inflated) rate is 2-5%:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

Now, in theory, Epic doesn't have to sell in Google Play, the official Android app store. Unlike Apple's iOS, Android permit both sideloading (installing an app directly without using an app store) and configuring your device to use a different app store. In practice, Google uses a variety of anticompetitive tricks to prevent these app stores from springing up and to dissuade Android users from sideloading. Proving that Google's actions – like paying Activision $360m as part of "Project Hug" (no, really!) – were intended to prevent new app storesfrom springing up was a big lift for Epic. But they managed it, in large part thanks to Google's own internal communications, wherein executives admitted that this was exactly why Project Hug existed. This is part of a pattern with Big Tech antitrust: many of the charges are theoretically very hard to make stick, but because the companies put their evil plans in writing (think of the fraudulent crypto exchange FTX, whose top execs all conferred in a groupchat called "Wirefraud"), Big Tech keeps losing in court:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

Now, I do like to dunk on Big Tech for this kind of thing, because it's objectively funny and because the companies make so many unforced errors. But in an important sense, this kind of written record is impossible to avoid. Any large institution can only make and enact policy through administrative systems, and those systems leave behind a paper-trail: memos, meeting minutes, etc. Yes, we all know that quote from The Wire: "Is you taking notes on a fucking criminal conspiracy?" But inevitably, any ambitious conspiracy can only exist if someone is taking notes.

What's more, any large conspiracy involving lots of parties will inevitably produce leaks. Think of this as the corollary to the idea that the moon landing can't be a hoax, because there's no way 400,000 co-conspirators could keep the secret. Big Tech's conspiracies required hundreds or even thousands of collaborators to keep their mouths shut, and eventually someone blabs:

https://www.science.org/content/article/fake-moon-landing-you-d-need-400000-conspirators

This is part of a wave of antitrust cases being brought against the tech giants. As Matt Stoller writes, the guilty-on-all-counts jury verdict will leak into current and future actions. Remember, Google spent much of this year in court fighting the DoJ, who argued that the company bribed Apple not to make a competing search engine, paying tens of billions every year to keep a competitor from emerging. Now that a jury has convinced Google of doing that to prevent alternative app stores from emerging, claims that it used these pay-for-delay tactics in other sectros get a lot more credible:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/boom-google-loses-antitrust-case

On that note: what about Apple? Epic brought a very similar case against Apple and lost. Both Apple and Epic are appealing that case to the Supreme Court, and now that Google has been convicted in a similar case, it might prompt the Supremes to weigh in and resolve the seeming inconsistencies in the interpretation of federal law.

This is a key moment in the long project to wrest antitrust away from the pro-monopoly side, who spent decades "training" judges to produce verdicts that run counter to the plain language of America's antitrust law:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/13/post-bork-era/#manne-down

There's 40 years' worth of bad precedent to overturn. The good news is that we've got the law on our side. Literally, the wording of the laws and the records of the Congressional debate leading to their passage, all militate towards the (incredibly obvious) conclusion that the purpose of anti-monopoly law is to fight monopoly, not defend it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

It's amazing to realize that we got into this monopoly quagmire because judges just literally refused to enforce the law. That's what makes one part of the jury verdict against Google so exciting: the jury found that Google's insistence that Play Store sellers use its payment processor was an act of illegal tying. Today, "tying" is an obscure legal theory, but few doctrines would be more useful in disenshittifying the internet. A company is guilty of illegal tying when it forces you to use unrelated products or services as a condition of using the product you actually want. The abandonment of tying led to a host of horribles, from printer companies forcing you to buy ink at $10,000/gallon to Livenation forcing venues to sell tickets through its Ticketmaster subsidiary.

The next phase of this comes when the judge decides on the penalty. Epic doesn't want cash damages – it wants the judge to order Google to fulfill its promise of "an open, competitive Android ecosystem for all users and industry participants." They've asked the judge to order Google to facilitate third-party app stores, and to separate app stores from payment processors. As Stoller puts it, they want to "crush Google’s control over Android":

https://www.epicgames.com/site/en-US/news/epic-v-google-trial-verdict-a-win-for-all-developers

Google has sworn to appeal, surprising no one. The Times's expert says that they will have a tough time winning, given how clear the verdict was. Whatever this means for Google and Android, it means a lot for a future free from monopolies.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/12/im-feeling-lucky/#hugger-mugger

1K notes · View notes

igotanidea · 3 months

Text

Promotion: Dick Grayson x reader

Request: Established relationship, reader starts calling Dick bestie. At first he thinks it's cute, then gets a little annoyed, then goes semi-hysterical, questioning the whole relationship. As they clear the thing out, he uses it as an excuse to propose.

****

“How’s my bestie doing?” Y/N’s voice came from the side of the door, the use of words so surprising that Dick raised his head from the phone, giving her a little frown.

“Bestie?” he grinned. “Is that what I am to you now?”

“Shall I remind you that we started as friends?” she teased, leaning to peck his cheek.

“Never heard you call me like that when we were friends though.”

“Well, I figured—”

“You figured that after two years of living together and seeing each other in pajamas – or without them-“ he smirked mischievously – “I finally deserve the term, huh?”

“What can I say? You’ve been promoted on my list.”

“Promo- wait, hold that thought. So I wasn’t on top? So I am not on top?”

“Well-“ Y/N started, getting the idea where Dick might be going with this.

“cause I can show that I’m the only one who can be on top.” He muttered and did exactly what Y/N thought he would do.

Not that she complained.

***

It was so cute and sweet and heartwarming and nice.

Being called her bestie.

Though it was a little surprising to be called like that after so much time together and getting used to boyfriend, honey, baby and babe, Y/N was still Dick’s princess and she could call him everything she liked and he would love it as well.

Best example being them going out with Dick’s friends.

“Hey bestie, you ready to go out? Wally keeps blowing off my phone, calling me out on us being late! Can you imagine!? Freaking speedsters, judging everyone by their own lights.” She muttered, fixing her clothes in front of the mirror, being picky with it, as always.

“I guess some people never change even when they travel back and forth in time.” Dick laughed. “Don’t worry about him, gorgeous. We can be as late as we want if that means you'll have the perfect outfit.”

“Well I was thinking we could match and—WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?” her laughter echoed in the bedroom as she took in the shirt her boyfriend put on.

“Do you like it? It’s custom made, especially for you. And maybe a little to celebrate my promotion, as you called it.”

Y/N was laughing so hard that tears started running down her cheeks, clutching her stomach and unable to tear the gaze from Dick’s shirt proudly announcing he was "Y/n’s bestie" in big thick pink letters.

“I know, I know, it’s amazing and you have no words to describe your gratitude at my thoughtfulness.”

“That’s one way to describe it—”

“And speaking about that matching …” Dick reached to the wardrobe, getting a little parcel and handing it to her.

“What is that?”

“Open up and see for yourself.” He grinned, observing carefully as she unwrapped the paper, retrieving the same style shirt with the only difference being the inscription.

“I’m Y/N.” she read, chuckling at Dick’s antics. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I’m sure. I want the whole world to know I am now officially your bestie and no one can even come close to claiming that title and be close to you.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Isn’t that why you love me? Amongst other reasons obviously. I mean, I am handsome and smart and 10/10 and—. Hey, Y/N, where are you going, I’m not done counting!”

“I’m changing and we’re leaving before you start inventing words to describe yourself. And before your superfriends decide to put their skills to use.”

“You know I’ll always protect you right? I am your bestie after all.”

***

It was so cute and sweet and –

A little annoying.

Like that one time at the gala when she was simply beaming amongst all those high-class-big-fish full of themselves. There was no way to deny Y/N was the most beautiful of all the women, and no fancy dress or expensive make up could change that. Dick had eyes only for her, becoming overly protective, gritting teeth and throwing daggers at every guy who dared to ask her to dance.

They weren’t a competition to him, but the male ego and pride was taking control of situations that involved another male putting hands on his girl, even if only in a dance.

And sometimes, a little marking territory was absolutely necessary.

Even if subconsciously she was doing everything to make his efforts go to waste.

At the moment he was observing Y/N conversing with some guests who – for once – happened to be around her age, giggling and acting like only young women can and are allowed to. And her having fun was fine, but the second young men started joining it, Dick had to chime in.

“Y/n.” he came closer, wrapping arm around her waist and kissing her temple, taking in the company.

“Oh, hello Dick. I’m not sure if you’ve met –“

“Caitlin and Sarah Mendoza.” Dick smiled brightly welcoming the young girls so cordially, that for a change Y/N felt a little insecure. “We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting in person but-“

“We’ve heard about you, Mr. Grayson” Sarah reciprocated his smile

“All good things I hope?”

“Of course! Everyone speaks so highly of you and—”

“Especially Y/N here. She said you were her bestie?” a male voice, of a guy that Dick did not recognize cut the sentence in half, causing a bit of confusion on his part.

“I’m sorry, who may you be?” Dick smiled with jaw clenched so hard, it almost hurt.

“Dick, this is-“ Y/N started, blushing a little from embarrassment.

“Colin Crawford. We’ve been friends with Y/N since the first grade. Though she never referred to me as a bestie.” He smirked as if sensing what emotions he was stirring in Dick. Getting enough evidence in the form of visible tightening of the grip on Y/N’s waist and even more blinding smile, becoming a little predatory.

“Well, technically we were friends in second grade—"

“That’s amazing, but I suppose I am the special one to you, right honey?” Dick cut her off, without caring about her correction of facts.

“Of course. I mean you are –” Y/N started again, but there was no chance for her to mitigate the obvious cockfight already going on.

“Cause you see, Colin, I am not just her bestie.” Dick gritted, though the smile did not falter for even a single second and only the look in his eyes showed the annoyance at the other guy’s impertinence. “I am her boyfriend.”

“Oh, I see.” Colin took a sip of his drink, completely unmoved.

“Everyone sees.” Y/N felt herself being pulled closer to Dick’s side as a sealing of his words. “Because we are an inseparable couple, aren’t we, love?”

“We are.” She cut the sentence short to get as little as a chance to actually finish it without interruptions.

“Why don’t we go dance, baby? I do want to keep you close to me, you know.”

They spend the rest of the night, dancing, and making sure that every guy in the party saw Dick’s hands on Y/n’s waist or arm or around her shoulders or their fingers interlaced.

And for the first time, Dick found himself annoyed at the term of endearment, that was so cute and sweet and heartwarming and nice.

***

It’s been almost two months since the first time she gave him the nickname.

And he was freaking out.

Becoming almost sure she didn’t love him anymore.

That she didn’t want him anymore.

And he was trying so hard.

Buying her flowers to check her reaction.

Bringing home her favorite takeout.

Watching her movies and TV shows with her.

Giving her his time and love and affection and devotion.

And she just stopped loving him? Just like that?

But why? Why? WHY?!

What could he possibly do wrong?

He was her bestie and it made him feel like crying, ripping his hair out, and drinking a poison at the same time.

Funny how the tables have turned since the beginning.

He was now sitting in their living room, watching the pictures of them together in different locations.

Fairground. Kissing at the top of the Ferris wheel.

Holiday. With her hair being a mess from the wind and allergy dots on his face.

At the local café with a milky froth over her lip.

At the gala with them dancing and looking into each other’s eyes. So in love.

And now it was all gone.

Now he was reduced to the form of her bestie.

Despite himself, a few tears started running down his cheeks and in his desperate state of mind he couldn’t even wipe them off. He was alone after all, no one cared whether he was sad, lonely, bleeding out from the unhappy love and broken heart, losing hope for any change of happiness or-

“Dick, what is wrong?” a warmth spread in his side and it took him a moment to realize that it was Y/N, snuggling into him and wrapping arms around him, trying her best to comfort him in whatever turmoil he was going through. “You can tell me. Or not. But I’m here if—”

“Why don’t you love me anymore?” he asked, his voice breaking a little.

“Wh-what are you --?”

“You keep calling me bestie!” he cried out

“But-“

“You’ve been calling me bestie for like two months now!” he jumped off the couch, starting to pace around the room nervously “it can only mean that you don’t love me anymore!”

“Dick, listen I –”

“Yes, I know, you still kiss me and we are intimate, but maybe it’s just a friends-with-benefits situationship for you?”

“Now that is simply offensive-“

“Is our relationship even real for you anymore? Was it ever real? Maybe we had a different approach to it from the very beginning and I was delusional?”

“How can you even assume-?” she clenched her fists at the accusation, but he barely noticed her vexation.

“I was so stupid, I should have known from the start that a girl like you could never be with a man like me! You want someone who will cherish you and love you and do everything for you and what I had to offer was just not enough!” Dick started to become a little dramatic, acting like he was preparing for a role in a Brazilian soap opera or Shakespeare play, throwing his hands around, spinning on his heels, and touching his forehead and heart. “Oh, Y/N, I am sorry, I could not give you more, but why… WHY DID YOU STOP LOVING ME?! AND WHEN DID IT HAPPEN!? WHAT DID I DO WRONG?!” he fell to her feet, embracing her calves.

“Dick-“ she stuttered, not sure how to calm him in this state. “I’m not—”

“Just tell me the truth my love—” he whispered, raising his glassy eyes onto her.

“I never—”

“YOU NEVER LOVED ME!” he exclaimed, getting even more dramatic.

“I NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU!”

“Wh-what?”

“When did you even get that silly idea? Who put it into your head? Was it Wally? Jason?”

“n-no.”

“Then who?!” now she was the one getting angry “give me a name and I will-“

“You started calling me bestie.” He explained.

“Yes. And?”

“And I thought we were drifting apart?”

“But- but you liked it. I mean – you got a shirt with that term on it, remember?”

“Well, I don’t like it anymore.” He muttered, pouting like a five year old.

“So you want me to stop?” she smiled in amusement at his behavior.

“YES!”

“Then why didn’t you just tell me? You really thought it was easier to develop a whole theory on a single word?”

He didn’t have any response to that, which only confirmed her conviction that she was right.

“Ok, then, so how do you want me to call you?”

“Your boyfriend, your love, your beloved or honey or sweetheart or –“

“Okay.” She smiled

“Or your husband.”

What?

“Husband?” she repeated with her voice shaky a little “but we are not-“

“But we can be-“ he kneeled in front of her, reaching for her shaking hands. “Y/N Y/L/N-“

“Dick, this is not funny—”

“Good. Because I am most definitely not joking now. Y/N Y/L/N.” their eyes met, conveying pure honesty and love he held for her “will you do me the honor-“

“Of not calling you my bestie?” he chuckled, the tension of the moment making her act like a goof.

“Will you let me finish a sentence?” he laughed and she nodded “Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

“Yes.” She sobbed from all the emotions.

“Yes?!”

“YES!”

“Oh my god!” he jumped from the ground, taking her into his embrace, holding tight and spinning around “SHE SAID YES!!”

“I SAID YES!”

“WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!” he exclaimed for one more time before putting her on the ground and kissing deeply for the longest time, suddenly not needing any air to breathe.

“You’re gonna have to get us new tailor-made shirts.” She chuckled, cupping both his cheeks and locking her gaze with his.

“Mr and Mrs Grayson, absolutely.” He nodded. “But I’m not only getting us shirts, honey. From now on all your belongings are going to have a monogram. Cause now? Now I feel like I truly got promoted and everyone’s gonna know it.”

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff

438 notes · View notes

pitchsidestories · 4 months

Text

the favourite II Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2349

a/n: hi everyone, this oneshot is a longer one, so get cozy. <3

The golden hour has just begun in the beautiful city of Barcelona, you were finally done with correcting your student’s paper, so you were able to continue reading the book on the sofa, which was the perfect way to clock off of work in your opinion.

The happy mood slightly shifted when you thought back to the phone call you had with your girlfriend earlier that day. Aitana told you she was injured and that she was coming back home this evening.

You felt guilty, because partly you were happy about the fact that your lover was about to return to you, this year has been a lot for her work wise, and you rarely got time to spend together as a couple, apart from you trying to be there in the stands at every home game or final. It didn’t surprise you that the midfielder’s body was exhausted from all of this.

On the other hand, Aitana loved playing football so much, so it would be hard to not see her doing what she was so passionate about. You realized reading at this point was impossible, there were too many thoughts running through your mind.

“Hola, mi amor.”, you greeted her warmly, as you heard her opening the front door.

“Hola.”, the football player replied in a cheerful tone which tried to hide the disappointment the brunette felt.

Immediately you jumped off the sofa to give her a much-needed hug. “How are you? I know you had to leave national team camp early.”

“It’s nothing too bad, don’t worry.”, Aitana reassured you with a weak smile on her lips.

“But I do worry a little.”, you admitted concerned while running a hand through your girlfriends open hair, something you knew she liked, because it had a soothing effect on her.

You caught her looking at the papers which were still laying on your kitchen table, so you added quickly:” Sorry, I’ll take those to my office.”

“No, it’s fine. Stay, you’re busy.”, the midfielder slowly shook her head.

“I’m actually done with going through them. My students wrote about their role models, and I spotted some familiar names quite a few times.”, you remembered, smiling fondly at the memory.

“Oh really? Like whose names?”, Aitana looked up curiously.

“Like Patri, Alexia, Salma, but you’ve been mentioned the most. Wait-”, you counted them off on your fingers. You proudly showed your girlfriend the texts which were about her.

“I didn’t know your students cared so much about football, specifically women’s football.”, the midfielder muttered amazed, while devouring the handwritten pages.

“I know, the view definitely changed in recent years… Remember when we were at school and no one seemed to care about women’s football?”, you asked, thinking back to the time when you and Aitana met for the first time. You were best friends in school, always stuck together. Until things changed in your teenage years.

Unhappily, your girlfriend put the papers back on the table: “They always said that we can’t play with the boys.”

“Or that we would never be as good as them.“, you added. “Which I was okay with because I always preferred books over balls, but I admired you for not listening to these voices.”

You had loved a good football match when you were younger, but you never had the same burning desire to play that Aitana possessed.

“That’s all I ever wanted to do, kick a ball around.”, Aitana shrugged and even though a lot had changed since your school days, you felt reminded of the younger Aitana. The quiet girl that defiantly fought for her right to play football.

You smiled softly: “I know, and it got you very far.”

“I never knew it would.”, Aitana replied, clearly lost in her own thoughts about her career.

“But it did.” You took a deep breath. The idea that had been floating around your head since you read the papers started to take form on the tip of your tongue. “Could you do me a favour?”

“Sure, which one?”, your girlfriend answered quickly.

“Maybe you could visit my class to talk a bit about your life as a football player? It would mean the world to them. You’re clearly one of their favorites.” You nodded in the direction of the pages piled on the table.

Aitana did not answer. She stared at you speechlessly until she found her voice a second later: “Your students want to see… me?”

She looked so surprised that you had to bite back a laugh. “Yes, they would love that.”

Aitana beamed: “Sure. Of course I’m coming.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You leaned over for a quick kiss: “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s a pleasure.”

“But for now…”

Your girlfriend raised her eyebrows in expectancy: “Yes?”

“Cuddles?”, you asked innocently, ready to wrap your arms around her.

“Please.”, she smiled. You threw yourself against her body, tightly hugging her.

Laughing, Aitana let herself fall backwards against the armrest of the sofa so you could lay on top of her.

She started to run her fingers across your back: “This is nice.”

Your girlfriend paused for a moment, before adding with a smirk on her lips:” But not as comfortable as in our bed.”

“You’re right let’s go to our bedroom.”, you agreed as you helped her getting into a standing position.

“Coming.”, Aitana answered. With a soft sigh the midfielder landed on your double bed.

“This is so much better.”, she declared, eyes closed. The bedding felt pleasantly cool underneath her body while you laid down next to her.

“Perfect.”, you mumbled. Grinning you continued:” Do you want me to read out to you a little?”

“Sure.”, the football player nodded, there was nothing in the world she found more soothing than listening to your voice.

“Okay.”, you happily obliged to it. After a couple of pages, you realized that your girlfriend was becoming sleepy. Quietly you put your book on the nightstand.

“Sleep well, Tana.”

“Night.”, Aitana whispered before inevitably sleep took it’s hold over her.

In the mornings you were always the first of you two to get up, as you needed to be ready for school. Much to your own surprise you realized that the midfielder was awake too:” Good morning.”

“Morning, amor.”, she replied, before placing a sweet kiss to your mouth.

“You know that you can still stay in bed, right?”, you muttered blushing. After all those years the brunette still had that effect on you.

“I know, but I couldn’t sleep anymore.”, Aitana admitted smiling sheepishly.

“I guess I’ll make two cups of coffees this morning.”, you remarked.

“Please.”, your girlfriend responded. When the dark-haired woman was holding the warm drink in her hand, she thanked you with another kiss.

“You’re welcome.”, you replied, enjoying one of the rare mornings you both had together.

You wished you could enjoy that moment for a little bit longer but looking at the clock on the wall you cursed under your breath:” Oh shit, I need to go!”

“Have fun. I’ll see you later.”, Aitana winked at you.

“Bye.”, you blew her a kiss, before making your way out of your home, ready for another day with your classes which were all dear to your heart.

The day arrived when Aitana was about to meet them for a lesson, you beamed excited at her:” Ready, love?”

“Ready.”, she nodded, your girlfriend was glad to have some distraction from her injury for at least the upcoming two hours. For a second you pressed her hand encouragingly, before leading her into the classroom.

“Good morning, everyone. Today we’ve a very special guest.”, you announced cheerfully.

A young girl with blonde hair called Imma sat in the front row and gasped audibly: “Oh my god, Aitana!“

She stared at the football player with widened eyes.

Your girlfriend smiled politely before introducing herself: “Hi, I’m Aitana Bonmatí. I’m a football player for FC Barcelona.“

“Can we ask her some questions?“, Jordi asked curiously. You knew that the lanky boy had vast interest in all kinds of football, no matter if the players were male or female.

You nodded, watching as his eyes sparkled in excitement: “Sure, that’s why she came.“

“Go ahead.“, Aitana prompted, trying to get the children to ask questions.

Imma raised her hand hesitantly: “From where do you know, Miss y/l/n?“

Your girlfriends gaze subconsciously drifted into your direction. You shared a smile for a split second.

With an eye-roll, Jordi complained: “That’s such a boring question, Imma!“

“I think that’s a very good question. We went to school together years ago.“, Aitana answered the question truthfully.

Jordi snorted: “Was she reading books back then too?“

You had to stop yourself from telling him, once again that reading was not only good for them but also a lot of fun. You tried to encourage your class to read every chance they got.

Before you could say anything, Aitana grinned: “Oh yes. She always loved books.“

“But I can play a bit too.“, you added innocently.

“Yeah. She’s pretty good.“, your girlfriend had to agree.

For once, Jordi was silent, looking from you to Aitana and back. A challenging smile appeared on his face: “We need to see that after class. But how did it feel to win the Ballon d’Or?“

“Amazing. It was a great honour but I couldn’t have done it without my team.“

“And you also won the Champions League!“, a red-haired girl interrupted with a big toothy grin.

“Yes, that was amazing too.“, the football player nodded.

Julias cheeks turned almost as red as her hair from exhilaration: “So cool!“

“I’m lucky to have such a great team around me.“, you heard Aitana say and you almost grimaced at how humble she was in front of your students.

Julia immediately followed with the next question, not allowing your girlfriend a break: “Do you have a favourite teammate? And is it Rolfö?“

Aitana laughed, surprised by the question: “I have a lot of favourite teammates. And Frido is one of them. She’s great, very sweet.“

“Like a team mum?“, Imma piped up.

“A bit, yes.“

“That’s cute.“, Imma commented happily.

“But we have a lot of people who can step up as team mums.“, the midfielder continued.

“Aitana, how’s your injury?”, Jordi changed the subject to a more serious one.

“It’s not too bad. They just wanted to be careful, so it doesn’t get worse.”, the midfielder waved it off in a reassuring way.

“Oh, good.”, he sighed relieved.

“So now I’m here and can hang out with you guys.”, Aitana clapped enthusiastically her hands.

“Exactly.”, you smiled proudly at her.

“Sorry, did you want to continue, amor?”, your girlfriend looked at you expectantly.

“No, I just wanted to say that the class is ending soon.”, you shook your head.

“Any more questions?”, the football player turned her attention to your students again.

“Can we play now?”, Jordi asked her innocently.

“Of course. Let’s go and play some football.”, Aitana agreed, her eyes mirroring the excitement of the little boy who was very thrilled to play with a Barcelona player.

On her way out, she couldn’t help but to tease you in front of the children:” Let’s see how good your teacher still is.”

“I’ll show you!”, you laughed.

“Prove it.”, the midfielder gave you a playful challenging look.

One of your students was handing you the football, so you did one of the football tricks you still knew before kicking it into the empty goal, making the boys and girls erupt into a loud cheer.

“See? She didn’t forget anything.”, Aitana said, her voice full of admiration.

“Wow.”, Jordi followed your moves with the football amazed.

“Not, bad, right?”, Aitana questioned him amused.

“Not as good as you are though.”, you whispered into her ear.

“Oh, if you got paid to play football all day, you’d also be good.”, she stated firmly.

“Yes, but I love my job, just look at their eyes.”, you replied, your girlfriend did what you asked her to do. The girls and boys faces lit up while playing football in front of one of their idols.

Afterwards she looked back at you in adoration: “I only must look in your eyes. You were made to work with children. They adore you.”

You weren’t even a big Taylor Swift fan, but your friends and the older students were and there was a line in one of her songs, which you quietly sung to her, before you looped the ball over the midfielder:” You know how to ball, I know Aristotle.”

“Excuse me?! What was that?!”, Aitana’s mouth fell wide open.

“I don’t know how I did it either!”, you confessed.

“That was impressive as hell!”, Jordi told you.

With sparkling eyes, Imma demanded: “Do it again!“

“Yes, do it again.“, Aitana smirked.

“Like this?“, you asked before trying to play the ball over the worlds best female footballer again. This time, you were less lucky and the ball came at the perfect height for Aitana to easily head it back to you.

“Oh no, it didn’t work.“ Julia sounded slightly disappointed.

You shrugged, trying to use the opportunity to teach your students a valuable lesson: “The good thing is, one can always try again.“

Aitana instead winked at them: “Don’t worry, I’ll teach her at home.“

Imma frowned in confusion: “At home? Do you two live together?“

“Are you stupid? She called her amor earlier!“, Jordi groaned.

The smaller girls eyes widened: “She did?“

“Yes!“

Aitana smiled at you, subtly linking your pinkies together: “She’s my best friend but also my girlfriend.“

“Oh.“ Julia made a delighted sound.

Jordi rolled his eyes: “They love each other, it’s so obvious, girls.“

And then he was back to kicking the ball around. Julia and Imma quickly chased after him, trying to get the ball.

You and your girlfriend stood in comfortable silence, still holding hands and watching the children run around you.

In this moment you were hit with the realization that this was exactly all you ever wanted from life.

#aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso oneshot #woso #woso community #barcelona femeni

485 notes · View notes

starseungs · 4 months

Text

our love untold. hhj.

hwang hyunjin x gn!reader — for those who grew up loved, it eventually becomes a norm to the point that the nuances between its types become untold.

genre/s — fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, college au, fine arts student!hyunjin • 3.1k words

warning/s — miscommunication as a result of no communication, children being mean for no reason lol, not much actually

note — #3 on the your love through the ages series | gave hyunjin the confession of a lifetime so look forward to that ... i want what they have </3

Hwang Hyunjin has always been a constant in your life. For as long as you could remember, a life without him was practically nonexistent. You had nothing against it, though. Spending your everydays with Hyunjin was a delight. The bond between you two was so strong that your families had no choice but to also become friends just so that they could finally satisfy both of your constant needs to be around each other.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to do much for that setting to work out well since your families clicked in an instant. A little too well, in fact, that you may have doubted its authenticity more than once or twice during the span of your lived life. Hyunjin had his fair share of those thoughts alongside you as you caught both of your parents eating lunch together on a random Tuesday afternoon—notably without the both of you.

Granted, you should’ve already seen that this was going to happen. You and Hyunjin grew up getting significant amounts of emotional support from your parents, who had big hearts holding lots of love to share. Naturally, birds of a feather would end up flocking together; which could also exactly be said about your dynamic with your best friend. With the way you were brought up, it was almost impossible for you to turn out any more different than the ones who raised you—to which you, to no one’s surprise, did end up adopting their tendency to express love easily towards others.

If only your younger counterpart knew how hard it was actually going to be to feel reciprocated in society.

You remember the scene like it was just yesterday, with the feeling of the soft play sand being molded by your little hands still fresh in your mind. The local playground sandbox was five-year-old you’s favorite spot in the whole world, just right beside your family home’s living room. It was a place where you felt at ease, happily sculpting clumsily shaped masterpieces from the slightly damp medium as your parents sat on a bench a few meters away, joyfully taking the opportunity to have some time with each other.

On a normal day, things would stay that way until right before three o'clock, when one of your parents would scoop you up to go home (the parent was often your father, who pitifully had a massive losing streak on rock paper scissors). However, that particular day was unlike any other day you’ve had so far.

The anomalies started with two kids looming over you, their eyes shining with a mischievous glint. Despite the number of times you’ve gone to the playground, you have never actually interacted with the other kids there. Your family had just moved to the area three months ago, and you were still yet to enter an actual school where you could familiarize yourself with nearby children.

While you did have thoughts of approaching the ones you saw often in the playground, your first attempts at doing so ended less than ideal, with the kids being uncomfortable with you being someone new. Due to that, you stuck by yourself for a while with the mindset that you’d be friends with whoever wanted to approach you instead. And that was why seeing those two children standing next to your sand sculptures instantly put a smile on your face.

Their words started off innocent—simply asking why you were playing all alone. Yet when you joyfully explained why, your expectations for the interaction took a wrong turn. The two kids started teasing you, saying that you must’ve been really lame for no one to even want to become your friend.

At first, you were mad. You wanted to let them know that you tried your best to make friends, up until you realized that it was you who wanted to be friends with them too, to which you started to become self-conscious. Thoughts like ‘what if they’re right?’ spiraled in your little mind, making you unable to say much in defense. The last straw was when one of them kicked the little sand house (which, in truth, looked more like a square hill) you were working on, making beads of tears decorate your waterline.

However, the tears didn’t actually drop until a pitched voice of a boy called out to the three of you staying at the sandbox. You watched as the new face marched in a determined manner towards all of you, only stopping in front of the two kids who teased you. Your glistening eyes watched in fascination as he scolded the other two, telling them that they were being mean to you. Thankfully, the whole exchange ended without much issue—the kids then muttered a short apology before scurrying away. The slightly taller boy stared at you before bending down to plop himself in front of your now-ruined sand house.

“Are you ok?” He says, his gaze now locked at the pile of sand between the two of you.

You could only nod enthusiastically, again happy to have someone talking to you positively. “Yeah,” you said while scooping up a small amount of the fallen sand. “I wanted to play with them, though.”

The boy before you beamed. “I’ll play with you instead!” He reaches for a handful of sand. “My name is Hyunjin. I like the sandbox too.”

That was how your parents found you a little while later, excitedly squealing while clinging to Hyunjin with a vice grip. His parents soon followed suit, joining yours in watching him grin while listening to you plan to build a model of your dream home together with sand. Numbers and words of appreciation were exchanged, officially starting the days with Hyunjin as your closest friend.

Being best friends with Hyunjin was basically like having someone attached to your hip, with the only difference being that you also wanted to be attached to his. If possible, you liked to do everything together—there were meals that were shared at the same table, outings that were done with both of your families, and schoolwork that you did together without even needing a word of agreement. Days, hours, and seconds with Hyunjin were a norm in your life, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Growing up, you never really questioned the comments thrown at the two of you. With how close you two were but looking miles different from each other to be relatives, the common conclusion people normally had of your relationship with Hyunjin was a romantic one. He was often attentive when it came to you—always bringing you snacks for lunch, spontaneous gifts just because something reminded him of you, and carrying your bag like it was the most normal thing in the world. This was often dismissed by him, though, which made you follow suit. After all, you yourself couldn’t see where the thought even stemmed from. You did acts of service for him too. What mattered the most was that you liked Hyunjin as he was, so hanging out with him constantly was reasonable in your eyes.

Well, that was until your first year in college, years after your initial meeting.

“Do you ever think it’s odd?” You start carefully, slowly pulling your hands away from his face after smoothing out his skincare mask. Hyunjin cracks open his left eye to glance up at you from his head’s position on your lap.

“What is?”

You motioned toward the situation you two were in. “That we still hang out like this. Even though we’re not kids anymore.” Hyunjin evidently frowned underneath the mask, slightly creating folds that showed his displeasure.

“No?” He replies, almost offended. “Why would I think that?”

There was truth in his words. Just like he said, why would he be offended? The two of you were never bothered by what others thought before, so why start now? You pursed your lips. Perhaps you were the only one suddenly having an issue.

It all started when you went out for dinner with a couple people from your department. The table talk was just as usual—until they mentioned Hyunjin. Some girls you went to class with expressed their jealousy towards your relationship with your ‘boyfriend', which they described as ideal. Your attempts at correcting them only ended up with you in the hotseat, being grilled like the meat everyone was eating at the moment. There was no way he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, they said. The dynamic they’ve observed so far between you two was too much to be platonic, they added. Their words only added fuel to the fire that was your frenzied state when they asked you to confirm specific scenarios that had happened with Hyunjin, to which they snapped their fingers and yelled out that it was clearly something lovers do.

But what was exactly so wrong with best friends still having sleepovers in their early twenties? Was there a problem with the two of you making plans just for the two of you that lasted the whole day? So what if he had the tendency to buy you both matching items? Sure, his parents call you often to check in, but isn’t that normal? You’ve watched how your parents treated their other friends with love in similar ways during (limited) times you’ve met them too, so why were you now so conscious of everything Hyunjin did ever since that dinner?

“I don’t know,” you said meekly. “It’s just that I feel like I’m taking too much of your time. These are things you should be doing with your significant other, not your childhood friend.”

When Hyunjin scoffs at your words, your eyes widen. “Well, I don’t have a significant other, and I’m doing this,” he points to his facemask, “with you right now. You can worry about it when the time comes.”

You didn’t know why, but somewhere deep in your heart, you never wanted that time to ever come.

Life always comes with surprises, though. The moment you unconsciously dreaded came sooner than you expected it to—just a whole year after your conversation over skincare in your tiny apartment room. Your fear came in the form of a student shifting to Hyunjin’s major, her skills catching his attention that was normally on the both of you. First came the comments, with Hyunjin complimenting her outputs in their classes together, telling you that the new girl had serious talent and how she should’ve majored in fine arts from the beginning. Next came his gaze; curious eyes always landing on her whenever she appeared in the vicinity you two were in. A growing feeling clawed at the pits of your stomach that made you nauseous every time you saw his interest cement on her.

How amazing was that for you, because now you had to distance yourself from someone who was basically your other half, just because you couldn’t handle the ugly thoughts you had for your best friend’s happiness. The last thing you wanted was to hold Hyunjin down—he deserved to freely like who liked, and decide who he wanted to be with as he wished. And until your brain gets the memo to agree with it, you were going to stay out of his sight for as long as possible.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was a complete mess. The poor man was lost; the past few nights were spent pondering over what he could’ve done wrong for you to avoid him so obviously like this. It had only been two weeks, but Hyunjin felt as if you had gone M.I.A. for two years instead. He had never gone this long without you, always making sure to contact you as frequently as he could when physically apart. To be fair, you still did answer to his texts, even if they were riddled with ice and coldly cut short. You had gotten skilled at dodging his visits too; always either out of your apartment or having found different routes out of your department’s building when he stubbornly waited outside. A few of your class friends gave him looks of pity whenever they saw him still adamant to see you, telling him to hang in there and that lovers’ quarrels don’t last that long.

Lovers. That was a familiar description Hyunjin has heard over the years of your friendship. He had always denied them politely out of respect for you, but they were always kept in the corners of his mind. Truth be told, the thought confused him endlessly. What was it exactly that others saw in the way he acted that he didn’t? His parents always told him to treat everyone he appreciated with love, and that he did—especially with you. He’s seen the way his father showed his appreciation for his mother and aimed to imitate that (yes, his father loved his mother romantically, but his father also gave gifts to his friends, so what was so different?), but all that ever did was bring suspicion over you two.

But you were happy with his acts of care, and it made him happy too. Shouldn’t that be the only thing that matters? Clearly, not with the way he was stuck in front of his blank canvas, the eerie color of plain white glaring at him to complete his painting project. Except that Hyunjin found himself completely unable to do so. His mind was barren, with not a single inspiration in mind. And this worried him.

On any other day, he was what you would call the epitome of a creative soul. He saw the world around him in a naturally imaginative way, easily piecing stories in his head from the smallest of things. It was the same reason why he chose to be in fine arts, majoring in studio arts, where he could relay his own vision. In short, Hyunjin had no clue as to why he was even struggling this much. He found himself comparing his skills to those of the new student in his department once again. Oh, how he wishes he could go and ask them for advice—her work served as an ignition for him to do better.

As one of the best students in the program, he found himself seeing her as a rival of sorts. Not anything negative, though. A healthy one-sided rivalry, if you will. Groaning, he shifts his gaze from the canvas to give his eyes a break, casually scanning his previous works propped up in a nearby corner. As he continued to work his way through them from afar, his mind floated over to think of you.

In that split second, something seemed to click in his brain.

You watched your clock tick at an even pace, the hands displaying the ungodly time that was judging you for still being awake. Granted, being awake at two in the morning was miles better than still being awake at four, which was just asking for an eventual headache since you still had class in the morning. The past few days have felt odd, to say the least. Despite knowing exactly why that was, you refused to acknowledge it—still hung up on the thought that you should get rid of whatever you were feeling before you would face Hyunjin again. Yet, it was times of the day like these when you wondered how he was doing without you. Probably still well, right? If it’s Hyunjin, then he would have no problem getting along just fine with other people.

A frantic knock on your door made you jump out of your thoughts with the way it echoed through the silent space. Like any other person would, you were automatically on guard. Who in their right mind would visit you without warning in the depths of the night? It was only when you saw your phone turn on with a message notification that you scurried to fling the door open.

“Hyunjin!” You fussed over him, gripping his arms firmly to give him a thorough lookover. “Is everything okay? Are you alright? Did something happen? Does something hurt—no, did something hurt you?” The words seemed to roll off your tongue so easily, preventing you from snapping out of your worries to see what expression he had on. All your mind was telling you was to find a way to chase whatever problem he had far, far away from here, where it could hurt him. But your rambling came to a halt when you felt his body slump against you, feeling the way he shook as suppressed sobs were forced out of him. Alarm bells immediately rang in your head.

“Let’s go inside first—”

“I’m so sorry,” he hiccuped. “I’m so sorry. Really sorry, Y/N. I don’t even know if I’m apologizing for what I’ve done for you to avoid me like this, or for not even knowing why you’re avoiding me in the first place, but I’m so sorry.”

“Hyune, no—”

“I know I can be an idiot at times, but I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you like this,” he said, still crying his heart out. “I was struggling to find something to paint about for my project earlier, and I can’t believe it took me this long to even figure it out. I can’t go on with meaning in my life without you, Y/N. You’re everything to me. You’re my world, my muse, and my light. For the longest time, you have been, and I would even risk saying that you have since the moment we met on that sandbox. All that I am has pieces of you deeply imbedded in my soul, and the reason why I see my surroundings in vibrant colors. Everything reminds me of you, and us, and all the times we’ve spent together and losing you would be the same as losing me. Y/N, I love you in a way I could never give to others—”

“Hyunjin.” You cupped his face, coaxing him to breathe. An imaginary string inside of you stretched and tightened as you looked at his mesmerized face, looking at you like you had hung the moon up in the sky. His eyes showed an emotion you were well acquainted with, yet the intensity and fervor burning inside were unfamiliar to the ones you had felt before.

This was definitely love. And it was the type of love you had spent the past couple of years pondering. The answer finally came to you. Hyunjin breathes.

“—It’s you, and always will be.”

You closed the gap, the touch of both your lips saying more than what was ever confessed from when you were five to the present.

It was your love untold.

SERIES TAGLIST ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix @xocandyy @heaveniseverywhere @kayleefriedchicken

504 notes · View notes

mariasont · 5 months

Text

Office Sleepover 2 - A.H

a/n: had sm fun writing this one yall

im so down bad for him ugh

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part three here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader flashes hotch AGAIN, drinking on government property lmao, drunk reader, suggestive comments

wc: 3.2k

You were restless, to put it simply. Every conceivable activity within the BAU had been exhausted, and you had explored every nock and cranny of the office, leaving no corner untouched. At this point they should start paying you for tour guides because you'd be an expert.

You were bored, frankly, and lonely--the team had been on a case all week and you were stuck here. How Garcia managed was beyond you--the walls seemed to close in on you as stir craziness took hold. You kept busy with work, offering as much help as possible while staying put, but it really wasn't the same.

You missed the team, and a particular member's absence you felt just a tad more, though you wouldn't admit it. Thankfully, they were supposed to be back any second now. While Penelope had a special place in your heart, the thought of sitting through another round of her and Kevin's awkward flirting was almost too much to bear. Without Hotch to keep it in check, it was all the more excruciating.

"Bye, Kevin," you chimed in unison, your voices intertwining just as the door clicked shut behind him.

Once you were sure he wasn't coming back, you shot Pen a knowing glance, arching an eyebrow as you pointed one of her fuzzy pens at her.

"Ease up on the death stare, will ya?" Penelope chided, as she wheeled her chair back to her computers, her finger twirling towards you. "You get so broody when the boss man's gone."

You lobbed the pen in Penelope's direction. "No," you replied with a huff. "I get broody when the whole team leaves me behind."

"Gasp," Penelope declared, placing a hand over her heart. "Can you believe it? They're genuinely concerned for your well-being. The audacity!"

"Okay, but seriously, what's the bigger priority here--my life or my sanity? Because it's a fine line," you said with a shrug, pushing your chair back dramatically.

But, before the chair could gain any momentum, you found yourself abruptly against the wall, your head cushioned by an unexpected softness. Without a moment to comprehend, your chair was spun, your eyes growing impossibly wide as Hotch's belt appeared abruptly in your line of sight. You raised your eyes to meet his.

"Your life, I would wager," he said evenly, "but then again, I might be a little biased."

You sprang to your feet, too quickly, your foot catching, sending you lurching forward. Almost instantly, Hotch's hand was securing around your arm, preventing you from landing straight on your face.

"Oh, Hotch, sir, hi," you said, flustered and slightly disoriented. "I didn't realize you guys were back."

"We just got back," he said, his hand falling away from your arm, and you hated yourself for how you felt a subtle coolness that replaced the comforting heat of his touch. "Do you have those reports I asked for?"

"Oh, absolutely, they're ready at my desk," you assure. "I'll bring them to your office in a sec."

As he nods and exits, your scoop up your belongings from Penelope's desk, raising a finger. "Don't even say it, Pen."

You ignored the way she cackled as you left, moving to your desk to grab the needed papers. You attention was captured by Spencer and Emily standing by her desk. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around them both, pressing them against you.

"Ugh, I missed you guys so much."

They both laugh, their hands taking you in quickly as you lean against them.

Emily grins, ruffling your hair as she nudges you. "A week away and you're this clingy? We'll have the start weaning you off us, huh?"

"Don't tease," Spencer starts, his hand resting on your shoulder, "But out of curiosity, how many times did you check our desks while we were gone?"

"Too many times to count," you admit begrudgingly, a sheepish grin on your face. As you glance up, your eyes catch Hotch's through the glass pane. "Oops, almost forgot why I came down here."

Approaching Hotch's office, you tap on the door frame and enter. "Here ya go, sir." you offer, extending the documents toward him.

Your fingers lightly touch as he takes the papers, and for a moment, you're rooted to the spot, the brief contact sparking a surge of disarray in your senses. God, it's almost beyond belief that one man could have this kind of effect on you.

Hotch nods his acknowledgement. "Thanks," he murmurs. As you pivot to leave, he adds, "Could you sit down for a moment?"

You cast a teasing look over your shoulder. "I hope I'm not in trouble," you say. His expression doesn't change. "Wait, am I? Because that would definitely be enough to push me over the edge, sir."

"No, you're not in trouble," Hotch assures you. "I've received updates concerning your case."

You lowered yourself into the chair, hands perched in your lap, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. "Please tell me it's good news because I'm starting to forget what my own bed feels like."

"You've been here just over a week," Hotch states, matter-of-fact.

You blow out a breath, arms crossed over your chest. "Hotch, it's scary at night."

He clears his throat, "Anyway, it's good news. We've got a lead on the hitman, though it's not the all-clear you're wanting."

"Well, that's something at least," you concede with a nod. "But I don't get why I can't be involved in this investigation."

As Hotch opens his mouth, you jump in, deepening your voice to copy his. "Because you're too close to it."

He regards you steadily, clearly not amused.

"Yup, okay, I'm done, sorry, I'm leaving now," you relent, getting to your feet quickly and striding towards the door, but a hand beats you to it, closing it abruptly and effectively barricading you in.

With a quick turn, you ended up flush against the door, Hotch's hand resting against the wood just above your ear. You felt like you were short-circuiting, your eyes growing wide as they met his. He says your name, but it doesn't quite register--too engrossed in the heady scent of his cologne, the pressing warmth of his body, the nearness of his chest, so close that an inch's movement could mean a soft kiss to his neck. Not like that would be totally inappropriate or anything.

"What?"

"I said, I'm worried about you."

You wanted to kiss him, man, you really wanted to kiss him. You bit the inside of your cheek to refrain from doing so.

"Why?"

It was barely audible, more air than sound, not daring to disturb the space too much, afraid of him suddenly becoming aware of just how close he was.

"You're very quick to make light of things, to make jokes, but I'm asking you to be real with me here. What are you feeling?"

His hand left the door, settling on your shoulder, his thumb hovering just shy of the hollow of your neck. Unconsciously, you found yourself leaning into the gentle pressure.

"That sounded sarcastic, Hotch," you noted, your tongue briefly sweeping across your lips, which seemed to dry out as you talked. "You're not implying my jokes need work, are you?"

His lack of response and narrowing eyes made you cave.

"Okay, fine, Hotch. You want the truth? I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I have nightmares every night? That I can't sleep?"

Your breaths came faster, teeth meshing tightly as you stared up at your boss. His hand found your cheek, his thumb sketching a path across your skin that ignited a trail of goosebumps over your whole body, making you hyper-aware of your every pore.

"What can I do to help?"

Stay with you, kiss you, fuck you--numerous thoughts ran raced through your thoughts, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate.

"N-Nothing, Hotch, really, I'm okay. It's not something that can be fixed, which is why I didn't say anything. Plus, everyone on this team has been through worse. I can handle it. I'm tougher than I look."

"I know you are, but I—," his words were cut short, a sudden knock at the door silencing him mid-sentence.

His hands fell away from you, but the sensation lingered, the heat of his touch seeming to brand you, marking where he had been. You ran a hand through your hair in an attempt regain some form of composure, just as he opened the door to reveal JJ.

Her eyes darted between the two of you, finally focusing on Hotch. "Sorry, guys, I have that footage from the press conference--is that what you needed?"

"Yes, right." Hotch nodded, pulling the door open further for her, then returning his attention to you, observing your flushed cheeks and uneven breath. "We'll continue this later, okay?"

"Yeah," you exhaled sharply before ducking out of the room.

You need to get a grip, or maybe a Xanax, probably both.

Once the office had emptied, leaving you alone, you sat pitifully on your bed. It was Friday, but there was not much cause for celebration when you were stuck here, surrounded by stale office air. You sprawled out on the mattress, tracing the patterns of the popcorn ceiling overhead. If someone didn't figure out this hitman situation, you were going to take him out yourself.

Not really, that would definitely be a death wish. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled shuffling outside your door. Sitting up, you slid into your slippers and stepped out into the hallway.

"There she is!"

You snickered as Penelope extended her arms with jazz hands, while JJ and Emily lifted their arms to show off their wine stash. Gratefully grabbing a glass from Emily, you pulled them all into a group hug. "I can't help but feel like we're about to be the subject of a very specific memo from HR after this."

Giggles from JJ accompanied the wine pouring as you stepped back. "Hotch is surprisingly on board we this—encouraged it even. Can you believe it?"

Warmth dusted over your cheeks at the thought. You wanted to kiss him even more, if that was even possible.

"Trust me," Penelope insisted, shaking her head as she paused for a drink. "I wouldn't dare cross HR again. Once was more than enough."

You wanted to say you were a classy gal, confident in your ability to drink responsibly--it was only wine, after all, not Everclear. But as the night went on, your voice rose a decibel too high, your balance a bit unreliable, and your displays of affection way too unrestrained.

You were already a touchy person, ask any of your team members, but with a few drinks, you're giving high school sweethearts a run for their money in the PDA department.

Your arms were flung around JJ's neck, peppering her cheek with kisses as you sang along to whatever music Pen was playing in between smooches. JJ was laughing, tilting backward on her heels, nearly knocking you both over.

"I love you guys. So so much." you said, each word stretched and muddled as you reached out to Penelope, who happily linked her fingers with yours.

"You are so drunk!" Emily accused, her palms squishing your face as she chuckled.

"'M not," you protested, words stifled by compressed cheeks.

She freed your face to grab more wine, Penelope not far behind, as you situated yourself on your desk chair.

"You know who I also love?" you questioned to no one in particular as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. "Morgan, Reid, Dave, and--,"

You paused, your nose crinkling as you bit down hard on your tongue.

"And?" Penelope pressed, brows raised as she looked at you expectedly.

"Hmm?" You hummed innocently, blowing a kiss her way as you shrugged off her question. "I'm gonna call Morgan."

Your eyes darted down to your phone, only to find the room swirling like a carousel. It took a heartbeat to register--someone's voice was already coming from the speaker.

"Hello? Morgan? How'd you know I was going to call you?"

"It's Hotch."

Your eyes grew comically large, a hand flying over your mouth, smothering the laughter that threatened to fall. "Hotch! It is so late! Why are you calling me?"

You shushed the group with a finger to your lips, the girls' curious eyes on you as JJ practically crawled towards you to eavesdrop.

"You called me." He paused. "Are you okay?"

"Hotch," his name was more of a whine than anything as you tossed your head back. "I'm fine, like, the definition of A-Okay. I'm with my friends and we're all kinds of okay."

You shot Emily a thumbs up.

"Good. Okay." Another pause. "Maybe drink some water, yeah? No more wine."

You gasped. "Agent Hotchner, I am a federal agent of the government. I know when I should be cut off."

"Oh, my god, get her off the phone."

You don't know who said it, but it sent you spiraling into another round of giggles, the phone slipping through your fingers while JJ pounced on it.

"Hey!"

She held up a hand, keeping the device just out of reach.

"Yeah, she's pretty drunk." JJ said, then frowned. "Hotch, listen she's more of a lightweight than we realized." You slumped against the chair. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."

JJ ended the call and placed it back into your hands. "I cannot wait until you remember this in the morning," she sang, before casting a glance to the others. "Also, a heads-up--Will's almost here."

"No!" It came out louder than intended, almost a shout, as you stood, sending Spencer's pens tumbling. "Whoopsie." You latched onto Penelope, murmuring, "Stay here, don't leave me."

Penelope's laughter rang out, her hands cradling your head. "Worry not, I've set the security guy straight--if you get even a scratch, I'll make him regret the day he was born."

"See, this is why you're my favorite," you whispered.

"Heard that."

Will eventually texted JJ, letting her know he had arrived. As the they waited by the elevator, the doors slid open to reveal Hotch standing there. A squeal escaped you, matched by his single raised eyebrow surveying your condition.

Your cheeks were painted a rosy tint, hair in a delightful tangle, and your shirt hanging askew off your shoulder--you were an adorable spectacle of disorder, and he found himself suppressing the small smile that threatened to reveal his amusement as the other girls filed into the elevator.

He had made them promise not to leave until he got there, not keen on the idea of you being left alone like this. It might have been an exaggeration, but when you butt dialed him and he heard the sound of your slurred speech it had him envisioning all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Sure, he had seen you drink during team nights out, but nothing like this.

"Hotch!" You shouted, moving to him with a rapidity that might be, well definitely, was ill-advised.

He stood motionless as you looped your arms around his neck. You smelled so nice--a sweet hint of vanilla instead of the anticipated alcohol. After a brief hesitation, his hands slowly found their way to your waist.

"What are you doing here, silly?" You ask, pulling back just enough to see his face. "Wait a second, please don't say we have a case."

A subtle smile played on his face, his hand not budging from your back. "No, there's no case."

"Oh, good," you murmured, your head bobbing lightly in approval. The light touch of your fingers at the base of his neck spread a warmth through him. "You want a drink? I think there's still some wine left."

"No, I'm fine," he said, clearing his throat and taking a step back. "I think you need to get to bed."

Your hands lingered at his neck, softly exploring his hair as you looked up with a smile that made his pulse race unexpectedly.

"Is that an order as my boss or a suggestion as my friend?"

He raised his brow. "Both?"

"Well, okay," you shrugged as you took a step back. "Wanna see my room? I don't think you've seen it yet. Everyone else has."

Without giving him a chance to object, you dashed down the hallway. He trailed behind with reluctance, knowing just how dangerous this could be for him. He was all too aware that he shouldn't be here, let alone in your room in your current, wine-fueled state.

You fumbled for the light, fingers slipping before finding the switch as you stumbled into the cramped room. It was pink. Very pink. The pullout couch was lost beneath a mountain of pillows, excessive by any standard. Your closet was bursting, and a collection of gadgets and gizmos had overtaken the room, but he liked it, a lot.

Your collapse onto the bed sent pillows scattering to the floor, his mind wandered about the unseen details of your bedroom at home, and even more so, the thought of what a shared space between you two might look like.

A sigh escaped him as he stood over you. "How about changing into your pajamas first, hm?"

"No thank you."

"You're going to hate yourself if you wake up in jeans tomorrow."

"Fine." You pouted, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Top right drawer please."

He shot you a look but obliged anyway. There was something about that puckered out bottom lip that made him think he'd do just about anything you asked, like he was putty in your hands. Pulling out the most conservative pair of pajamas from the sparse selection, he made a mental note to ask about that later.

"Thank you," you said with a smile. He really liked your smile. "You know, you're really such a nice person, Hotch. Or—Can I call you Aaron? Just tonight?"

He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest as the air was knocked out. "You can call me Aaron. Just tonight."

A high-pitched squeal escaped you as you began shedding your clothes. He offered a stifled cough, quickly averting his gaze and nudging the door closed with his free hand.

"Well, Aaron," you said plainly, "I really like you."

The effort it took for him not to pivot on his heel was immense, particularly when your voice sweetened like honey at the mention of his name.

"You're a great boss."

"I like you too, Agent."

"No, you don't, well, I mean—you can turn around now," you said. "You like me, but I really like you. It's not the same."

As he turned to face you, he could sense his cock twitching in his pants, a physical reaction to the sight of you fumbling with your shirt, your tits exposed in full view, as if begging to be touched.

"Christ," he hissed, gripping the ends of your shirt and yanking down. He was sure you were going to hate yourself in the morning. "You're not making sense, and I think you need to sleep it off."

"Yeah," you replied, your eyes warmly meeting his as you gave him a lopsided smile. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in such casual clothes, Aaron. You look very handsome."

He needed to get you to bed before he did something he'd regret. He softly nudged your shoulders backward, offering no verbal response. You surrendered to the motion with complaint, your remaining strength insufficient for anything else.

Softly, he settled to blankets around you, taking a moment to study you, with the intention of memorizing you completely (even the part of you that was far too drunk).

"Goodnight, Aaron."

He summoned all his restraint to keep from crashing his lips into yours. He smoothed back your hair, allowing himself that as he shot you a tired smile. "Goodnight."

He hadn't even touched the doorknob when your plea reached his ears. "Aaron, I—, will you stay with me?"

And who was he to deny you anything?

next part!

taglist: @chronicallybubbly

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotchner #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #Spotify

836 notes · View notes