#let her feel as carefree as she does when she dances

[biitchcakes]

❝ Is dancing why we live ? ❞ ⸻⸻ ⸻⸻ ❝ Girl, YES ! ❞

( personals DNI. )

#🥹 she just always looks so happy.. #let her feel as carefree as she does when she dances #side note how precious is binary pls <33 #( a e s t h e t i c . ) #( c h . s t u d y . ) #( c o m i c s . ) #( e d i t s . ) #( v i s a g e . ) #( b i n a r y . ) #( c a r o l d a n v e r s . ) #( j e n n i f e r t a k e d a . ) #( j e n n i f e r w a l t e r s . ) #( l a u r i - e l l . ) #( m o n i c a r a m b e a u . ) #( q u e u e . )

[iwannasuckyourmonstercock]

Never alone

Yandere Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Warnings: Stalking, creepy bf but he really just loves you <3, spanking but no smut, maybe I'll do a smutty part two - "I'm Hongjoong by the way, nice to meet you." the man in front of you told you while you were still unsure if it was really that nice. Probably not as he was at fault that your cute crop top was now dripping wet and the sticky feeling of the liquid wasn't all that nice on your skin.

You knew going to that damned party was a mistake. When your friends first asked you to come to the frat party you had cringed at first. Rightfully so because first of all was it a frat party and they always ended with at least one person in an ambulance and secondly would you have to go out. Now, it wasn't like it was going out that you particularly didn't like. No, usually you loved going to parties, going for a walk or going out for shopping. But lately it had begun to feel uneasy. Whenever you stepped outside you could feel it.

Lingering eyes, faint footsteps. Someone was always following you. You didn't have any proof to be fair but you knew it. Call it seventh sense or whatever but it made you not wanting to go out for anything at all anymore.

Obviously nobody would believe you, call you paranoid. So you didn’t tell anyone. Your friend Yuna had always been way too convincing and she was the very reason why you were now standing in front of an incredible attractive man that had just emptied his whole cup of whatever he had on your top.

After he had apologized a million times he had dragged you up to the bathroom, giving you a towel to dry yourself up. It seemed that he was one of the boys that were hosting that party as he left you shortly just to come back with a fresh shirt for you. "You can change if you want... It must feel terrible against your skin, y/n."

"Ah, thank you... It really does, so thank you." you said, accepting his shirt. After he left the bathroom you cleaned yourself up a little and changed into his shirt. Your white crop top was completely ruined so you didn't bother to try saving it, just putting it in the trash. As soon as you stepped outside you noticed that Hongjoong had waited for you. He looked way too good for someone who was just leaning against the door and playing with his phone. "You didn't have to wait for me."

When he heard your words he looked up, eyes wandering over your body. He looked like he wanted to eat you up right in that moment, but even so he held back, just shifting his gaze to your face.

"Of course I had to. I just ruined your night by being too careless so I have to make it up to you." he grinned, putting his phone in his pocket. "Well, I don't want to ruin your plans but I'll probably leave soon anyway so you don't have to bother with me." "That's a pity. I hoped after getting your attention I had a chance of getting to dance with you." You sighed. He did get your attention. Not in a positive way but still.

At last you decided it wouldn't hurt to dance with him. After all it had been a mistake for which he had apologized and made up for. So you just grabbed his arm, dragging him down to the dance floor. Being outside hadn't felt so good in a long time and dancing with Hongjoong was a lot of fun. The way you two moved to the beat was incredible and you loved how he always found new moves to the songs that came up. Honestly he gave you just what you needed that night. Just a carefree moment.

After some time you two had fetched yourselves drinks in the kitchen, having some small talk. He was an art major. Photography was his focus but he also loved painting he had said. And apparently he even made his own music as he had sheepishly admitted. Sadly you had to leave soon as Yuna had managed to get shitfaced drunk and you weren't too keen on letting her leave alone. When you sat in the taxi with her you cursed yourself, realizing that you two didn't even exchange each others number.

-

The next encounter with Hongjoong was pure coincidence. You had made the mistake of taking the last victory of going out without any troubles as a sign to go out more often. Maybe he lost interest and stopped? Or maybe you really had been just paranoid?

Now you were basically running down the street. This time you had seen him. It was a guy, well built and tall. And he was following you. For good ten minutes already. The party you had went to this time was in a nightclub. You didn't stay too long, only until 3 am. Yuna had offered to walk you home all the way but you declined it, deciding that you could walk the last ten minutes alone. Well now you didn't even dare to walk home, just running in circles as you didn't want to lead him right to your home. Apparently you didn't pay attention to anything but running so a loud gasp left your mouth when you felt ran against a hard chest. "Wow, you seem very eager to see me again." Hongjoong laughed, putting an arm around your waist so that you wouldn't fall. His laughter died down when he saw your tear stained face. "Oh god, did it hurt or why are you crying...?" he asked carefully.

You slowly shook your head, wiping the tears away with your sleeve. “Someone’s following me… please help me…” you begged him lowly, not daring to look behind you.

He didn’t waste any time before he looked over your shoulder and put his arm around your shoulders now. “Ah, there you are. Finally, I’ve already waited for you. Let’s go home.” He said a bit louder with the intention that the man could hear it.

Than he led you to his car, opening the door for you and letting you in like the gentleman he was before going to the drivers seat to get in himself.

“Would you like me to drive you home or do you want to go to my apartment? I mean, I wouldn’t really want to be alone in a situation like this so if you want to-“

“Yes, let’s please go to yours.” You interrupted him in his sentence. Your stalker knew where you lived, you were sure of it. So it was better to go to a place where he couldn’t follow you. And Hongjoong seemed trustworthy.

Hongjoong nodded and started the engine before starting to drive to his apartment.

It turned out that he didn’t live in the frat house from the last party. He actually had an own apartment. Apparently he shared it with a friend as you noticed how there were more shoes and jackets in the entry than a single man could have. But otherwise it was very clean. No dust, no things standing around.

Also it was very modern, you noticed. A lot of paintings and photographs were on the walls and also hand made statues were decorating the place. It made it look very cool but also very unique.

“Ah… i made it myself. I call it the lucky shot as I feel like this is almost the most beautiful shot I took.” Hongjoong said sheepishly as you stopped at one of the photographs.

“Only almost? What was your most beautiful shot than?”

He stared at you for a moment, eyes darkening for a split second, before chuckling.

“You’d like to know, huh? I deleted it by accident. So I can’t show you but it was a very nice scenery and someone I hold dear was in it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that… it must’ve been hard to realize that you deleted something you value so much…”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’m a bit clumsy sometimes… and at the end I’ve got it captured in my memory. Now… if you want you can take a shower. I should have some make up remover somewhere… Seonghwa, my roommate, had a girlfriend and she placed it somewhere so she wouldn’t have to go to bed with make up… they broke up but he never threw it away.” He explained. “Come in, I’ll show you the bathroom.”

You followed him to the bathroom and smiled. Even the bathroom was clean and it amazed you. Usually two guys living together meant that the place would look like shit.

“Thank you, Hongjoong, really… you saved me from that stalker and-“

“Not helping you wouldn’t have been an option. This is something you should be able to expect from anyone… now go on, the clean towels are under the sink and I’ll leave clean clothes in front of the door… I hope You’re fine with wearing something from me, I don’t have any women’s clothes.”

You nodded softly and waddled into the bathroom. After removing all of the make up and taking a nice shower you felt much better. The clothes Hongjoong had prepared for you were almost fitting perfectly and you had to grin a little.

When you came out you followed the amazing smell until you stood in the kitchen.

“I’m making some ramen. I figured we both would need a late night snack after all this.” He smiled. Apparently he had changed into his pajama too and somehow he looked really hot.

A plain black shirt with some sleeping shorts never looked so good but honestly nobody could blame you. After being followed for almost a month now there was no time for you to truly relax. So you hadn’t had any intimacy in more than a month now. This probably did effect you a lot more than you’d like to admit.

“Thats nice of you…” you smiled and sat down, watching him while he cooked the ramen.

“I can’t leave a pretty girl hungry, can I?” He chuckled. “So was your friend fine? After the party? I remember you had to drag her to the car and she didn’t look good last time.”

You blinked at his words. Did you mention what you had been doing and with who? Surely you did.“Yes… she is fine. Tomorrow she’ll feel awful as she did drink quiet a bit but it should be fine.” You told him with a smile.

“I’m glad. She must have a lot of faith in you if she trusts you to drag her home after every party…” he mumbled under his breath and served the food than in two bowl.

You mumbled a quick thank you before taking the bowl. It wasn’t that special but right now the food seemed better than anything else you could have. And you didn’t even notice how you were devouring the food until Hongjoong chuckled next to you.

“You look really cute when you’re hungry.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small blush in your cheeks.

“Shut up…"

He just chuckled and returned to his food.

To be honest his presence made you feel incredible comfortable. You couldn't really put your finger on it but even during your first encounter it felt like you knew each other forever already.

Like he knew you inside out.

But you didn't have much time to think about anything as Hongjoong already started another conversation. You two talked for hours and eventually moved to the couch in the living room. A film played on the TV screen but the both of you couldn't really care less about what happened there.

"I swear, I always have the baddest luck ever! I'm not even joking, when I had my last date my alarm clock didn't work, my car broke down and the bus I had to take got into an accident!" you laughed.

Hongjoong laughed really hard and shook his head. "Nah, nothing against me. I actually got there but during the date it turned out she already had a boyfriend. He showed up and made a huge scene. I ended up in the hospital that day."

A small gasp left your lips and you covered your mouth so he couldn't see how you had to hold back your laugh. You both had no luck with dates it seemed. He nudged your shoulder with a small chuckle.

"It's okay... You can laugh about it. I didn't die so it's okay." he assured. "We both have are just not really meant to go on dates, I guess."

"I guess we're not meant to go on dates... We'll find our other half in a different way." you sighed and looked over to him. His eyes were fixated on you and it made you a bit nervous which made you stop in the middle of your sentence.

"Like meeting our soulmate at a frat party..." he breathed out without breaking the eye contact.

"Or getting saved by our soulmate from some creep..." you added and noticed how the man in front of you got a bit closer to you.

Somehow it felt right when he got even closer and slowly cupped your cheek with his hands. His intense gaze was still on you and it made you almost blush. It made you feel like the most wanted person on earth. Like he wanted more than just a bit of fun for the night. Like he really, really loved you.

"Is this okay for you..?" he whispered against your lips.

So you just leaned forward to him to feel his soft lips on yours. Both of you clearly wanted it and right now you wanted nothing but him.

Quickly the shy kissing turned into a heavy make out session and he had pulled you on his lap, his arms around your waist. His smell was all around you and it made you dizzy. Everything felt right and soon your clothes were on the floor while the both of you made love on the couch in Hongjoongs living room.

Everything was perfect.

-

Nothing was perfect.

It had started with a small fight over something so mundane and now you two were full blown fed up with each other. And also way too proud to apologize to the other. Also, the stalking only got worse.

“You’re both way too fucking stubborn. Either you love each other and make up or this could be the last time you talked to him.” Yuna huffed, throwing a pillow into your face.

With a sigh you caught it, shaking your head.

“You… don’t understand. I don’t get why he would even ever be jealous because a friend stayed the night over! He did sleep on the couch and we know each other from our childhood on!” You sighed, shaking your head.

“Maybe he is just insecure or something like that. And you wouldn’t like him having a woman stay with him too.”

It wasn’t that at all. You hid the fact that Hongjoong had looked like he could smash the face of your friend when he came into your apartment in the morning, seeing you both together in the kitchen.

And he almost did, if you hadn’t stopped him.

It was scary and something you’ve never seen him do before. Ever. That was a side of him you didn’t even know existed.

Yuna consoled you a little longer before she had to leave, wanting to catch the last bus.

After she left you wrapped in your blanket, watching some drama and eating some leftovers.

Right now you didn’t want to think about Hongjoong nor your stalker. So you watched the drama, letting it distract you from the fact that you had to talk to Hongjoong sooner or later. Rather later, if possible tho.

And for your stalker.... You would have to go to the police. You swore you saw someone taking pictures of you. And a dark, looming shadow followed you wherever you went to. It was frightening.

Soon, you feel asleep like this, the drama continuing to play as your eyes fell shut.

-

When you woke up you were met with darkness. The TV was out and it was weirdly cold.

Slowly you rubbed your eyes, yawning and stretching a little. When another cold breeze hit your now exposed skin you shivered.

Where did that come from?

Quickly you stood up, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders as you went through your apartment to see where it came from.

You froze when you saw an open window. And not only that, a person was climbing out of it, apparently a little startled as you came as they began to hurry.

Screaming, crying, yelling, throwing things after the person or calling the police - you should do all those things. But instead you couldn’t move.

The stalking hadn’t stopped. And they even got into your apartment now. It was hella creepy and soft sobs left your mouth as you slowly sunk down to the floor, crying out of fear.

What did they want from you? Steal? Hurt you?

Either way, the feeling was horrible and the only thing you could do was call your boyfriend. You couldn’t say a thing but your soft sobs were enough to alert your boyfriend who sounded like he had just woken up.

Only five minutes later was he with you, using the spare key you had gotten him.

It should’ve alerted - after all he lived at least fifteen minutes away.

But in that moment all you could think about was how warm he felt against you and how good he smelt.

God, you had missed Hongjoong. No matter how hard you had tried to hide that.

“It’s alright, baby… it’s alright… I’m there now…” he told you soothingly, rubbing your back and kissing your forehead.

He was all you needed right now.

-

A few weeks passed and things changed. You had moved in with Hongjoong.

Seonghwa, his roommate, was alright with it. You two got along very well and he understood your situation and that you didn’t exactly want to be alone - nor did you want to stay in your old place.

Hopefully the stalking would stop now. With two dudes in the apartment nobody would dare to break in, right?

Being with Hongjoong felt safe and you decided to forget the accident with him and your childhood friend. It had been a one time thing after all, he’d never do it again. Your boyfriend had promised that.

“Babe, are those the last few bags?” Hongjoong asked, hands full with your stuff.

“Yea, that’s all.” You confirmed and he sighed in relief. A huff left your lips.

“What? Tired? Seonghwa carried most of them, you know.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

Your boyfriend grinned and put his arms around you. “Yes, but I carried the heaviest boxes, you know.”

You couldn't even be mad at him - he was cute as he cuddled up to you, although his sweaty skin was a bit sticky. He was calmed down by your presence as much as you were with his. It was endearing, really.

"Shower, babe. You need a shower." You told him, softly pushing him away.

It made him whine and cuddled up to you even more. Obviously he was very much against the idea, shaking his head and pouting cutely. He obviously knew which weapons to use against you. His cute side always got the best of you after all.

"Than... how about a shower together?" you suggested, making him smirk and nod in agreement. Well, what a surprise. - You were shaking.

It had been a dream. Living with Seonghwa and Hongjoong was a dream. Hongjoong spoiled you with all the attention and love, while Seonghwa mostly took care of the duties around the apartment. You learned that Hongjoong covered Seonghwas part of the rent too and in return Seonghwa cooked and cleaned. All in all, a wonderful thing. Especially since you were free from your stalker. At least you thought so.

For a few weeks it had worked. And now? You wanted to do a nice thing and clean for Seonghwa while they were both out.

By now you had your degree - but as of right now there hadn't been any job offer for you. Not even any replies to the ones you applied for. Frustration was slowly creeping into you but your boyfriend was very encouraging, reassuring that you would for sure get a nice job soon. He kept your spirits up and provided everything for you without a single complaint. You had never asked for that - but received it all nonetheless. Hongjoong was a proud and stubborn man. And once he was set on something, there was no use arguing.

Well, the least you could do was help Seonghwa than, right?

And now you were devastated. While dusting Hongjoongs office room you almost tripped over a tile. Obviously you wanted to fix it, you couldn't have your love tripping on it, could you?

But when you noticed that something was underneath the tile you knew that whatever was there, Hongjoong didn't want anyone to find it. What could it be? You knew a lot of your boyfriend. Still, sometimes you felt like he didn't tell you the whole truth.

He worked a lot, but still, he could afford this expensive apartment, provide for both you and himself and he also still had enough money to suggest a vacation. With the job he had in an office... Well, maybe if he had a few more years of experience. But as a newbie it was not really believable. You simply chose to believe him when he explained that his passion for making beats and songs got him a few extra thousands a month.

Despite your gut telling you not to, you opened the box you found under the tile.

A loud gasp left your lips when you saw the pictures of you, along with letters and private objects from your life that got lost way before you even knew Hongjoong.

"What are you doing?!" You heard a harsh voice.

It was Seonghwa. You were lucky. If it had been Hongjoong, you would've been in trouble.

But when you turned around, his face told you everything.

He wasn't surprised. He wasn't shocked. He wasn't completely shaken like you were. He knew. He fucking knew.

Seonghwa knew that his best friend was the stalker that you so desperately tried to get rid of. He knew that he was sick, invading your privacy, taking pictures of you and stealing your panties, jewelry and more.

"N-No... Hwa, please... please don't tell me..."

You wanted to throw up. It made you sick.

"He isn't like that... He really loves you. More than anything in the world." Seonghwa tried to reason with you, but the tears were already running down your cheeks.

He let you as you pushed him away, going to your room and getting a bag so you could quickly pack the most important things up before your boyfriend - your stalker - would return.

Only when you wanted to flee the apartment did he stop you, holding your wrist and pulling you into his chest.

"Shhh.... Shhhh.... Don't worry. He will always take care of you... You love him, don't you? It doesn't even change anything." he told you, seemingly also trying to believe the words Hongjoong had fed him.

When you got violent, he did too. With force he dragged you into Hongjoongs room, cuffing you up.

"Let me go! Fucking psychos!" you accused him, trashing around and trying to kick him with your feet.

"Hongjoong will understand..." he mumbled, ignoring you and leaving you alone. You could only wait for your doom.

-

"You have been such a good girl... Why now?" he asked, disappointment lacing his voice. A loud smack resonated in the room as Hongjoong hit your bottom for the tenth time.

Tears were running down your cheeks and you sobbed. It hurt, but your body was only turned on, reminded by the many nights where Hongjoong had trained you to love this pain.

"Now you must act up... Bad." Smack. "Girl." Smack. "I gave you everything and you act like this just because of something like this? Just let it go. I only wanted to take care of you, watch out for you. Only I am allowed to hurt you."

Stubbornly you shook your head. "N-No... You fucking stalked me, you are crazy, leave me alone!" you fought him, making him chuckle darkly.

"Remember darling, you are never alone."

#yandere #kim hongjoong #yandere kim hongjoong #yandere hongjoong #yandere ateez #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez hongjoong #stalker hongjoong #creepy ateez #dark hongjoong #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #hongjoong

[siempre-bucky]

Tutor

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: After your teacher told you that you were failing your math class, you took every opportunity to study, and that included studying on an abandonded bench in the woods. Turns out it wasn't as abandoned as you thought, and it also turns out Eddie Munson is good at math.

wc: 2.7k

Masterlist

A/N: eddie munson is good at math and i will not be taking any criticism at this time. I didn't think i would be writing for him but i fell in love! please enjoy the fluff!

Since when did a subject with numbers have letters? Since when did they have imaginary numbers? They were all right there on the chalkboard, taunting you in faded white chalk. Glancing down at your notes, none of it made sense. “Does everyone understand that concept before we move on?” Mr. Davids asked as he turned to look at the group of sleepy-eyed teens. Clearly not. He let out a slow drawn-out sigh and returned to his desk to gather the graded quizzes. 

Fuck, you thought as you sunk into your seat. You couldn’t help but watch everyone’s reactions to their grades, some of them looked excited and high-fived their friends while others shook their heads and gave sad faces to the teacher who gave them a disapproving face in return. 

“Miss Y/L/N, can I see you after class?” Shit. Your teacher looked at you sympathetically as he passed your desk, his hands empty. 

Once the bell rang, your anxiety only heightened as the class quickly dispersed. They didn’t look at you, but in your mind, they were all laughing and pointing at your failure. “You wanted to see me?” you questioned as you approached his desk. The older man nodded and took out your last few tests from the class. Cs and Ds were written in bold red ink at the top, now those were taunting you. 

“I didn’t want to announce it during class, but I’m worried about your grade,” he sighed as he looked up at you, folding his hands and placing them on his desk. You nervously scratched your textbook, the already faded cover chipping and falling to the ground below you. “You’re a star student at Hawkins and I don’t want your math grade to put you behind.” 

“I-I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do better,” you managed. 

“I know you will and I’m here to help… and there’s no shame in getting a tutor.” 

A tutor? In your academic career you never once needed a tutor! So here you were during lunch with your notes and math books sprawled out on the worn-down table. Your forgotten lunch was just a testament to your commitment to study more. It was just math, it shouldn’t be this hard for you. You forced yourself to be good at every subject, this one was no different. “Plus or minus B…” you mumbled to yourself as you fiddled with your neon yellow earring.

“Madam VP!” Your best friend called as she approached you, clutching tightly onto her lunch tray. “Please tell me you’re going to join the dance committee,” she whined, slapping the tray onto the table and sitting across from you. 

“In between yearbook, debate, government, and science club? No way,” you responded with a forced laugh, listing off just some of your activities. You could feel her eyes burn holes into your skin as you kept your eyes on Mr. Davids’ practice test. 

“Come on, this is a no-study zone,” she told you in between bites of her sandwich. 

“No. Gotta pass this class,” you grumbled, clutching your pencil tighter. 

Your concentration was broken yet again by the sounds of roaring laughter. You looked up to see the D&D group standing up from their seats and banging on the table, their leader Eddie holding up a newspaper and his tongue sticking out of his mouth. “God they’re such freaks,” Rachel groaned, “and Eddie Munson? Super freak.” 

You smiled in their direction, drowning out Rachel’s mean words. The members from all grades just looked so carefree and enjoyed their time together. You always admired their leader, and on a few occasions thought he was rather handsome. You loved how he smiled when he stood on the table and battled it out with the jocks and how passionate he was about the fantasy game you’d only heard about from the kids you babysat. “You don’t want them to hear you say mean things do you, Madam President? Wasn’t kindness your whole platform?” You smirked, peeling your eyes off the long-haired man.

The class president huffed and went back to her lunch as the commotion died down, “Fine,” she huffed, “Are you coming over after school?” 

“No, I’m going to study more.” 

You had heard about this abandoned spot in the woods just outside the football field. One person said it was haunted, someone else has said a monster lives there. It sounded like the most peaceful spot near Hawkins High. A cold chill from the autumn air went through you as soon as you walked through the gate and your feet stepped on the leaf-covered ground. 

It was how you pictured it in your head, a small wooden bench in the middle of the woods and large trees covering the cloudy sky above you, a beautiful light fog surrounding the space. It was the perfect place to study. After brushing the leaves off the bench you placed all your books on the table and placed a spare pen in your hair. You even placed your last ‘F’ grade in the middle for motivation. 

It took 20 minutes for your head to hurt and the feeling of being overwhelmed racked your nerves. Bitterly, you wadded up one of your papers and threw it across the table, letting it join the fallen golden leaves. “Well, well, well,” a smooth voice scoffed. It didn’t help that the birds screeched and flew through the trees at the same time.  

“Shit,�� you gasped as you jumped a mile high, placing your hand over your rapidly beating heart. You turned your head to see Eddie Munson sauntering over with a smirk plastered on his plump lips, his silver ring-clad hand clutching a dingy silver box. 

“I certainly didn’t expect to see the Princess of Hawkins High so far from her palace,” Eddie joked, keeping his distance just in case you were nervous around him. He always figured you were. You never spoke, but sometimes you’d pass in the hall and he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t look behind him to catch a glimpse, and you couldn’t say you didn’t do the same.  

You chuckled and placed your pencil down on your notebook, “I’m no princess,” you corrected, “I’m sorry I thought this place was abandoned.” His lips parted as he watched you quickly stand from the bench, gathering your things and stacking them into a small chaotic pile. 

“Stay!” he encouraged, waving his hand in a shooting motion. You instantly sat, squinting your eyes at how easily you listened to the metal head. He walked over and sat across from you, his brown eyes peering down as you nonchalantly tucked your marked test under your book. “What do I call you then? Queen, Grand Duchess, Viscountess, Your Highness?” 

“Just Y/N.” 

“Y/N.” 

Heat rose to your face as he said your name, it fell off his tongue so nicely and you wanted to beg him to say it again. People said your name all the time, but it didn’t make you feel the way you did when Eddie said it. It made your heart skip a beat. 

 You fell into silence after you opened your workbook back up, it was comfortable even though you knew his deep brown eyes were staring at your work. He opened his box and took out a rolled joint. “Want some?” he asked, taking it between his fingers and placing it in your view.  

“No thank you, but I don’t mind if you do,” you denied kindly, briefly looking up from your work.

He smiled and ducked his head, normally girls that weren’t buying from him thought it was disgusting. Your lack of judgment towards him made him blush and giggle like a schoolboy, hiding behind his wavy brown hair. Eddie got comfortable in his seat, watching the smoke rise to the sky while you mumbled out equations. 

“It’s 42,” he answered after hearing you repeat the same equation ten times and erasing all your work over and over till there was no eraser left. 

“Oh,” you whispered after looking at the faded equation, “thanks, Eddie.” 

“Tell me a secret,” he said after a while. He’d gotten comfortable and leaned forward, placing his head inside his palms, his big brown eyes staring at you. 

You looked up and knitted your eyebrows together, and he just looked at you in amusement. “A secret?” 

“Yeah, I mean, just so I know you won’t tell anyone about my secret spot.” 

“Your spot?” you scoffed playfully. 

Eddie nodded and looked at his box, “Yeah, until today I didn’t know anyone knew about it.” 

You giggled and cocked your head, “Fine,” you sighed, “ I’m really bad at math.” 

The man puffed his cheeks, his eyes squinting as he held back his laughter. He couldn’t fight it off for long, a loud cackle escaped his lips and he threw his head back. The laughter continued until he looked at your solemn expression and how your eyes avoided his gaze, oh fuck, it wasn’t a joke to you. “Fuck. Y/N, I’m so sorry I didn’t- shit. Look… I’m bad at everything, no worries here,” he stammered his apology.  

You swallowed and looked back up, “Tell me a secret,” you instructed timidly. 

“No, sweetheart. That was only for me,” he responded with his smirk returning to his face. 

“You made me feel bad,” you smirked back. 

His face fell most adorably. Eddie leaned in and looked down at your paper before looking back at you. “I’m really good at math.” 

In a way you weren’t surprised, he seemed smarter than he was showing other people. You even heard one of your teachers praise him on a literature assignment once. The confident, playful Eddie made you smile but now knowing there was another layer to him made your stomach do flips inside you. 

Your eyes went wide as you got an idea, your teacher's words coming back to haunt you and remembering Eddie answering the problems just mere minutes ago. “Eddie,” you exhaled, “would you tutor me? I-I just need a couple of sessions and I’ll be out of your hair! I can’t take failing grades.” 

His jaw dropped and started to laugh nervously as he stood up to pace back and forth in front of you. “Me? Tutor you? You know what your friends will think about the school freak tutoring someone like you.” 

“I don’t think you’re a freak,” you reassured him as you stood up. “And I can pay you! Eddie, I really need help.” 

He thought about it for a long moment as he continued to pace. There was a lot to consider here! A pretty girl asking him for help, the Hellfire Club, his own personal time… he had a lot going on. Then he looked at you, he thought you looked so beautiful amongst the fall tones of the woods, your hopeful glare, wide innocent eyes staring back at him. He was sure you were doing that on purpose. “Fine. I have time before my campaigns,” he sighed, dramatically giving in, placing his weed back in its box, closing it with a loud clunk. 

You squealed and jumped up from your seat to pack your things, “Eddie you have no idea what this means to me. I can’t thank you enough,” you cheered as you put your backpack on, adjusting the straps on your shoulders. In a moment of spontaneity, you moved to the same side of the table, threw your arms around him, and placed your head on his chest. 

The man stilled at the abrupt contact, but he didn’t flinch or move to pull you off of him. He liked this, he liked that in your hour of interaction you felt comfortable enough to thank him with a hug. You didn’t cower like the other students. Eddie could just feel your smile on him and he prayed to whoever was out there that you couldn’t feel how strong his heart was thumping against his ribs. His skittish hands rose to place them on your clothed biceps, tapping him lightly. “Y-you’re welcome, Y/N.” There it was again… the fluttering of a swarm of butterflies in your chest as he said your name. 

You two walked back side by side, telling him what you needed the most help with and him telling you about meeting times. He made you chuckle and you made him blush, a beautiful even exchange. Eddie clammed up as you pushed past a few branches, the gate to the football field taunting him. Back to the reality of high school hierarchy. "You should go before me," he suggested, swallowing his disappointment. 

You scrunch your nose and look up at him confused. "Why would I do that?" 

Eddie tucked his hands in his jeans pockets and shifted back and forth on his heels, "You don't want the freak and the princess to be seen walking together. Right, sweetheart?" 

"I don't care what they think of me, Eddie," you correct him instantly after the words fled from his mouth. "This is fucking high school. Frankly, I don't give a shit and I'm surprised you do." 

The guitarist was swooning at your blunt comment. The foul language he didn't know you even knew just fueled his excitement and added another thing to the long list of things he adored about you. “I just don’t want anyone calling our Vice President a freak, ok?” 

A bashful smile spread across your face. “Did you vote for me, Munson?” you asked teasingly. 

Eddie clicked his tongue and started to walk again, “Maybe,” he muttered, sending a wink your way. There was a noticeable spring in his step and it made you giggle as you followed behind him. You could tell there were a few students by the bleachers and by the building but they didn’t matter, Eddie’s laugh and his bright smile made them fade to the background. 

A month and a half later, you nervously sat in your seat in the back of your math class, your brain suddenly losing everything you had ever learned in your tutoring sessions. “Not to scare you guys,” Mr. Davids started as he began to pass out the papers, “this test does count for a significant amount of your semester grade.” 

Taking in a deep breath, you fidgeted with the bracelet tied nicely around your wrist. A pink die sat in the center and was wrapped intricately with pink rope. Eddie gave it to you after acing a practice test, telling you he made it from the set you complimented him on after a Hellfire Club session you sat in on. You wore it every day, and he noticed. “It’ll be ok,” you whispered to yourself as you began to tap your pencil on your desk. 

“But I have confidence in all of you,” Mr. Davids said brightly, placing your test on the desk. “Your time begins now.” 

“Eddie!” You shouted excitedly as you rushed into the crowded hallway, “Eddie!” You hurried, pushing past disgruntled students who were muttering under their breaths. You found him lost in one of the stories he was telling to his friends by his locker. 

“H-hey, Y/N? You ok?” he asked nervously as you stood in front of him, checking to see who was around to see you talk to him. You had small beads of sweat on your forehead from rushing through the halls, your chest was heaving and you were clutching your test in your hand. 

“I got an A!” you cheered. 

A huge smile broke out on his face. In a fleeting moment, he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. “I knew you could, princess!” he laughed as he sat you back on the ground. 

Still wrapped in his arms, you looked up at him as your giggles calmed. “It was all thanks to you, Eddie. I-I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“I feel like you could though,” he winced. 

You had a fleeting moment of your own as you gripped his biceps and lifted yourself on your tippy-toes to kiss his cheek. “No. I couldn’t,” you whispered against his skin. After pulling away you looked at the shocked expressions of his friends before returning your attention to him. “Will I still see you tonight? I still have more to learn?” you asked, biting your lip. 

Eddie nodded and fell back onto his locker, his cheeks as red as roses. “Of course, you will, sweetheart.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #joseph quinn

[shadowlali]

mayor que usted - ch. 1

COD AU - Coronel Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader

[18+] wc: ~3.3k series masterlist

series summary: You live a carefree and happy life in Las Almas now that El Sin Nombre is gone. Unbeknownst to the people, a new narco moves in with his eyes on you and nothing to lose. Alejandro steps up as your pretend boyfriend while Los Vaqueros stage a plan to take down this new threat. It's fake dating until it's not. You and Alejandro slip into the roles too well and lines begin to blur. Will Alejandro be able to let go of his own rules to allow himself the chance to find love? Based off this request.

warnings: NSFW, some proofreading, no smut in this chapter, no use of y/n, not too many descriptions of reader (Alejandro is taller than reader), original characters introduced, age gap (not specified but keep it legal), stalker behavior by unwanted suitor, brief mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of blood/violence, mentions of narcos/cartels, mentions of drugs, mutual pining a/n: the first chapter of my first ever series! this chapter will establish their dynamic and the story! enjoy!

Alejandro’s P.O.V.

Alejandro walks through the backdoor of Rudy’s home, hearing the music and lively chatter of the Parra and Vargas family. He goes around and greets both families and friends until he ultimately sees you. You’re talking to Rudy’s younger sister, Ximena, the two of you notoriously always joined at the hip. His heart begins to race once he sees you laugh. He pretends to listen to a conversation with Rudy, but his eyes keep moving back to you.

Dios, that smile… He’s not supposed to think your smile is pretty or that your laugh perfectly scratches that itch in his brain. Your Ximena’s best friend for god sakes, part of the Parra family at this point. Alejandro shouldn’t be interested, you're younger than him, not prepared for the life he has. It doesn’t matter that both the Parra and Vargas family know of the mutual attraction and try to push Alejandro to swoop you up before someone else does, he doesn’t – he won’t ruin you.  

That doesn’t mean he can flip a switch on his emotions. He can’t just tell himself to ignore the desire and your allure. Alejandro watches as you get up to dance with one of Rudy’s cousins, Javier or Jaime or whatever his name is. Jealousy burns his stomach while you laugh the moment you’re spun in a circle. He feels someone bump his shoulder and turns to see Ximena.

“You should ask her to dance. I think she’ll say yes,” Ximena says as she points to you. 

“Don’t point,” Alejandro says as embarrassment colors his cheeks from being caught. “No, I’m not going to ask her to dance. I wasn’t–wasn't even looking at her.” 

She raises her eyebrow at his words. “Honestly, Alejandro, I don’t know why you do this to yourself. You two obviously like each other. And like I told Rudy, I’m okay if my best friend and older brother date.” 

Alejandro whips his head around,” Rudy is interested in–” 

“No, menso,” Ximena interrupts with a laugh,” you’re my other older brother.” [Dummy]

Alejandro remembers to breathe in that moment. He should’ve known Ximena was talking about him. He and Rudy consider themselves brothers and of course Ximena would also consider Alejandro her brother as well. Her words bounce around in his head. A selfish part of him thinks you would fit well in his life. 

You would be okay to wait for him while he’s on mission. You would busy yourself on his ranch by riding his horses or having picnics in his peach orchard. Maybe you’d visit his mom and calm her nerves while he’s away. You wouldn’t be too scared when he’s gone on dangerous missions because you’d know he’d always find a way back to you. 

He wonders if you’d enjoy a weekend camping up in the mountains or if you’d let him take you to the restaurant you love so much or if you’d enjoy walking around town where everyone could see you two together. Alejandro always stops wondering the moment he realizes other people would bear witness to the relationship. What would they think about him, a man roughened up by war and bloodshed, taking advantage of such a sweet girl like you?  

Alejandro knows you’ll say yes if he asks you to dance. He’d be stupid if he didn’t notice how you look at him and the way you touch his arm when he’s close. He doesn’t allow himself to be alone with you, knowing he’ll fall to his knees and beg for your affection. So instead Alejandro, as much as it pains him, hopes that you’ll find someone. That you’ll focus your pretty eyes on someone else. Then, God willing, Alejandro won’t be tempted by you anymore. 

Ximena pokes his arm, gaining his attention once more. “Will you dance with me?” 

He nods and follows her to the dance floor as a new song begins. You’re still dancing with Rudy’s cousin, whatever-his-name-is continuing to spin you around and make you laugh. A minute into the song, Ximena abruptly spins them both around and puts them right next to you. 

“Javier, you need to teach me how to dance,” Ximena says as she lets go of Alejandro. 

“Uh,” Javier turns to look at you then back at his cousin,” sure yeah, next song–” 

“No, now!” 

Before Alejandro knows what’s happening, he’s pushed towards you and Ximena whisks Javier away. You look at Alejandro and give him a confused smile.

“We don’t have to–” you begin to say. 

“I guess we should–” Alejandro interrupts,” Oh. Si no quieres bailar conmigo, we don’t have to.” He’s not sure why he feels a pinch in his heart. [If you don’t want to dance with me] 

“No–I mean, yes. Why don’t we just dance?” you stumble over your words. 

The music has now switched to a new song, something soft and romantic. Alejandro stares into your eyes and grasps one of your hands in his. His other hand is placed on your hip and you both begin to sway to the music. The rest of the guests fade away until it's just you too holding each other close. He falls victim to the pools of color in your eyes and the slope of your nose. He tries to stay strong and not glance at your soft lips, but eventually he does. 

“I didn’t realize you were such a great dancer, Coronel,” you whisper. 

Alejandro lets out a small chuckle and grasps your hand a little tighter. The dress that you’re wearing is thin enough that he can feel the warmth of your skin on your back.

“My mom taught me,” he whispers back. “She said if I ever want a wife I need to know how to dance.” 

“Señora Vargas is a smart lady, that's why I like her–” 

“She likes you too, nena,” Alejandro interrupts,” she likes you too.” 

He’s being honest. His mother along with Rudy’s always have nothing but good things to say about you. Qué niña tan lista e independiente. She’s going to make someone very happy, they’d say. [What a smart and independent girl]

“Can I cut in?” Rudy says. 

Alejandro reluctantly lets your hand go. He walks away and turns as you and Rudy begin to dance, catching your eyes and giving you another smile. 

- - - 

Reader's P.O.V.

“¿Todo bien?” Rudy asks with concern clouding his features. [Everything okay?]

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be–oh… That,” you respond. 

A few days prior, you and Ximena visited a bar in town. Las Almas is a small town, mostly everyone knows each other. When a couple of drinks were placed in front of you by the bartender, you both thought maybe a friend or family member had sent them. What you weren’t expecting was a guy dripped in gold and silk to slide up next to you, a little too close for comfort. You tried to deny the drinks, already knowing where this was going. 

From the clothes he wore and the way he talked, even before he told you what he did for a living, you already knew. When El Sin Nombre reigned supreme in Las Almas, guys like him existed in every corner. Guys who thought that one day they would run the Las Almas Cartel if they pushed enough merchandise or threatened enough people, all in expensive clothing. 

You hadn’t seen him before and he confirmed your suspicions when he told you he was from more down south. His name was León and he was here to take advantage of the border that separated Las Almas and Texas. You and Ximena sat there in disbelief, thinking that maybe someone was pulling a prank on you. 

León spoke so casually about everything, like if it was no big deal selling hardcore drugs or amassing enough artillery for a small army. Your body ran cold at his words. Life had improved drastically at the exile of El Sin Nombre. Yet here was this random guy who was able to enter Las Almas so easily. 

He didn’t seem to notice or care as you and Ximena stared back in horror. León, if that was even his real name or just a moniker, took a small baggie filled with white powder out of his pocket and squeezed your upper thigh. 

“It’s supposed to… heighten, every cell in your body,” he said while running a hand up and down your cold skin. 

You’re not sure how Ximena managed to safely drag you out of the bar, a weak excuse thrown at León. The two of you drove to the Vaqueros’ base where Rudy was stationed for the night. No way were you going to risk León following you back to your house. Rudy took your words’ seriously and dispatched two soldiers to go check the bar if he was still there. They didn’t find him, no surprise, but they did see him leave and arrive through the security cameras. 

Ximena convinced you to stay the night at their house, just so you wouldn’t be alone. Rudy decided to keep what happened quiet, wanting to gather as much evidence as he could before presenting the information to Alejandro. The trail has run cold, Rudy not being able to track which roads León used to get into and leave Las Alamas. No new property had been bought recently and there were no new satellite images of any incoming trucks or planes passing through Las Almas. 

You thought you had seen him while walking to work the following morning, someone with the same build and awful fashion sense standing across the street, but when you glanced back there was no one there. 

“I thought I saw him the other day but… it might have just been my mind playing tricks on me.” 

Rudy nods at your words.”If you see him again, please and I mean it please, call me or Alejandro immediately. Don’t engage, we don’t know anything about this guy.” 

“I will Rudy, I promise.” 

Rudy gives you a brotherly kiss on your forehead and leads you off the dancefloor once the song finishes. You spend the rest of the evening talking and eating while trying to dodge Javier’s advances. He’s cute and polite, but he can’t compare to Alejandro. Sooner rather than later you’ll have to let the crush go, but there’s a small part of your heart that still holds hope. 

Alejandro managed to focus his sole attention on you while dancing and even now you keep finding him look at you before quickly glancing away once he’s been caught. The last thing you want to do is seem desperate, but you wish he would let go of his annoying principles for just one moment. 

As the night goes on, neither family seems to be getting tired or having any plans to stop the party. You have a busy schedule in the morning and it's still somewhat of a drive back into town from Rudy’s ranch. You begin to say your goodbyes, and surprisingly Alejandro offers to walk you out. 

“You’re sure you don’t want me to drive you, nena?” 

You smile at the nickname,“I’m sure, Alejandro. Thank you.”

He holds the car door open for you and waits in the driveway while you reverse out onto the road. You stay smiling throughout the entire 15 minute drive back to your house and even as when parking your car. Right as you step onto the porch, you notice the door to the house slightly open. Your brain begins to race with a million thoughts and it becomes difficult to breathe. 

Even in the moonlight you can see the doorknob and lock have been knocked off for easy entry. Against your better judgment, you slowly tip toe up the porch and push open the door. There, on your entry table, is a large bouquet of red roses with a note sticking from the top. Cold sweat runs down your back and you stay frozen to the spot. You’re scared to enter more into the house to find safety in your room but also scared to run the few steps back to the car. 

The party and Rudy’s ranch seem so far away now. You take a deep breath and run back to your car while pressing the unlock button only once so it opens just the driver’s side. You don’t know if someone is waiting to grab you outside or if they’re waiting inside, but you don’t want to risk it. Once in the safety of the car, you check the back seat quickly and speed out of the driveway. You press Rudy’s name on your phone and begin to explain in rushed words what just happened. 

The drive to the Vaqueros' base seems long and each car that passes next or behind you seems like a threat. The moment you pull up to the entrance, the soldier on duty waves you in. You park in front of the building that holds Rudy and Alejandro’s office as another truck parks next to yours. Before you know it, Alejandro has yanked your trembling body out of the car and squeezes you to his chest. 

“Are you okay, nena? Are you hurt? Did anything happen to you?” He says his words in a rush. 

“I’m–I’m okay, no one was there I think. Where’s–where’s Rudy? I thought he was meeting me here?” 

Alejandro sighs and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “He went to check your house with a few other soldiers. They’re going to review the security system and see if they can find who did it.” 

You close your eyes and nod to his words. Your body begins to calm down while Alejandro keeps you locked in his arms. His hand massages the back of your skull and your grip the front of his shirt to keep you balanced. 

“You should’ve told me,” he whispers,” you–you need to tell me stuff like this. Gracias a Dios que no te paso nada. Let’s get you inside, yeah?” [Thank God nothing happened to you] 

Alejandro leads you into the building and directly to his office. He makes you lock the door, you guess more for comfort than for safety, as this is most likely the safest place in Las Almas. He leaves to get some pillows and blankets for you to rest a bit. 

“Only for a while until Rudy comes back. Then we’ll take you with us.”  

You’re not sure if that means back to Rudy’s or to Alejandro’s ranch, but you’re too shaken up to ask more questions. You begin to think about the state of your home. There was someone in your home. Someone went in and did God knows what and left a bouquet of roses. To taunt you? To make you cower in fear? You’re not even sure if they destroyed or took anything. You most likely know who did this but you don’t want to believe it was him. 

- - - 

Alejandro’s P.O.V.

He hasn’t stopped shaking with anger the moment Rudy got the terrified call from you. Alejandro ran to his truck and managed to arrive at base in only a few minutes. He did his best to control his anger at Rudy for not informing him about the incident at the bar. It was Rudy’s job to gather intel first then present information to Alejandro if it posed a threat. They weren’t even sure if it was the same guy or just an isolated incident. 

Once you explained, your voice trembling from adrenaline and fear, how you didn’t stick around and jumped back into your car, he praised you for being such a smart girl. He’s not letting you back into that house until they find who did this. Alejandro doesn’t care if he has to drag you kicking and screaming to stay at his or Rudy’s ranch. 

Alejandro returns to the office and wraps a blanket around your shoulders warm your cold skin. Once he’s sure you're comfortable, he leaves again to meet with Rudy downstairs, making sure you lock the door behind him. 

“Did you find anything?” His voice is rough as he talks to Rudy. 

Rudy holds up a plastic evidence bag with a white note and some words scribbled on it. 

“I’ll see if we can get prints on it to identify this ‘León’ guy.” 

“You think it’s him?” Alejandro asks. 

“Read the note, Coronel.” 

You didn’t give me a name the last time we talked. I found you anyway. I even know your favorite flowers. Red roses, right? Like the color of the lipstick you wore that night at the bar. Nos vemos pronto, muñeca. –León [See you soon, doll]

Anger and something akin to fear rises in Alejandro’s body. No one gets to threaten you and make you fear your own home. No one gets to stalk you and make you feel unsafe in the town you grew up in. He made sure that Las Almas would be a safe place for you, for everyone. And he’s not going to let some wannabe narco cause you terror and destroy everything he’s built. 

“We need to get the security footage from her house and the surrounding houses. We need to confirm he only left a bouquet of roses and nothing else. I need someone to change the locks on her door and–” 

“Coronel,” Rudy interrupts Alejandro’s anxious tirade,” Coronel, we are doing all of those things, no te preocupes. We need to focus on finding this guy and figuring out if he’s actually moving coke.” [Don’t worry]

“Rudy, that’s your focus right now? What about her–” 

“I know, Coronel. That’s my next point. He thinks she’s alone, single. What if–and hear me out before you yell at me again–what if she has someone?” 

Alejandro stares back at Rudy in confusion. “Yes, I expect her to have un escolta the moment she leaves base and until we find León.” [a guard] 

“That’s not–that’s not what I’m saying. What if we have one of the soldiers step in as her boyfriend–” 

“¿Qué chingados estás diciendo, Rodolfo?” [What the fuck are you saying]

Rudy ignores Alejandro and keeps talking,” Maybe it’ll scare him enough to leave her alone and then we can focus on–” 

“Rodolfo,” Alejandro says in a voice simmering with anger,” I will not allow one of the soldiers to date–” 

“Pretend date–” Rudy interrupts. 

“Me vale ver–” [I don’t give a shi–]

“Or you could do it. Who else than the Coronel to scare a narco away?” 

At that, he stays quiet. Rudy stares back, an obvious glint of victory in his eyes. Alejandro thinks about the situation. While he trusts each and everyone of his soldiers with his life, the idea of one of them dating you, even if it's pretend, makes his stomach churn. And as ridiculous as Rudy’s plan sounds, he’s right. Alejandro would have a much better chance at protecting you if León and everyone in Las Alamas believes you two are dating. 

- - - 

Reader's P.O.V.

“Wait–I’m sorry. I don’t understand how this is supposed to help me?” 

You’re in Alejandro’s guest room with Rudy, Ximena, and Alejandro. Ximena looks at you and back at her brothers with the same confused look. Rudy and Alejandro, well mostly Rudy, just explained their plan to get León away from you at least until they find out where his operations are happening. Alejandro hasn’t said much but his eyes don’t leave you. 

“If León is interested in moving merca’ through Las Almas, then he’s not going anywhere. We’lll find him,” Rudy’s voice is serious, “but we’re worried about you. Alejandro thinks it’s best if you two pretend to date.” [goods] 

You want to laugh, you really do. In only a few hours you went from flirting with Alejandro to your house being broken into to now being his pretend girlfriend. 

“This sounds like one of those romance novels,” Ximena says. 

Alejandro shakes his head. In a few strides he reaches then kneels in front of you. “This is—this is serious. We need to make this believable, nena.” He reaches up to cup your jaw and without thinking you place your hand over his. 

“Okay, Alejandro… Let's do it.” 

part 2 | part 3 [epilogue]

main masterlist

#alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x female reader #alejandro vargas smut #cod x reader #cod mw2 x female reader #alejandro vargas #cod mw2 smut #shadowlali

[weemssapphic]

Strange

PART ONE: Isn't it strange?

Link to part two!

Brienne of Tarth x f!reader

Summary: Betraying the King is one thing. Betraying the King when the Lord Commander is your girlfriend? That’s another. 

Words: ~1.4k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: angst, breakups, hurt/no comfort (pssst... part 2 has a happy ending!)

A/N: The first part of this fic is a songfic to Strange by Celeste - I highly recommend listening to it as you read. Special thanks to @dianneking for being an excellent beta! ✨

I tried for you Tried to see through all the smoke and dirt It wouldn’t move What could I do?

You sit gingerly at the edge of the bed that you share with Brienne - the Brienne of Tarth. You’ve been together for nearly three years now and, still, she makes your heart beat just a little faster and your stomach do a somersault every time she looks at you. Just the thought of her is usually enough to make you swoon - usually. 

Your eyes scan your surroundings, filling with tears as you realize it may be the last time you’ll sit here, on this bed, in this little cottage. A small home filled with memories, filled with love. Little trinkets on every shelf, gifts from you to Brienne, and from Brienne to you; paintings on the walls, each carrying a unique story; every piece of furniture carefully crafted to satisfy both of your tastes. Memories of sitting at the dining table sharing meals, of staying up late curled up in front of the fire to talk, of making love in the pale glow of dawn, sleepy and lazy - carefree and in love. Your eyes fall to the bags next to you on the bed - almost packed.

Say, isn’t it strange? Isn’t it strange? I am still me You are still you In the same place

The door to the cottage slams open, deafening in the otherwise quiet space. Brienne storms in, her face red and her jaw clenched. Instinctively, you rise to your feet as she comes to a stop in front of you.

Isn’t it strange? How people can change From strangers to friends Friends into lovers And strangers again

“Why would you do that?” she spits out - you’ve never seen her fury directed at you before, and it breaks your heart just as much as it ignites a fury of your own inside of you.

“He let hundreds of women and children die or worse, and I’m supposed to stand around and pretend the great King doesn’t deserve to be gutted on his throne for what he’s done? How can you defend him?”

“It’s my duty.” Brienne’s face is hard and her tone unwavering, and she stands straight and tall, and, Gods, does that piss you off.

“Fuck duty! Since when is duty more important than doing the right thing?” Your chest is rising and falling erratically now, your cheeks flushed with anger. You can’t believe she would take the King’s side over your own - but then, she’s a knight. You shouldn’t have expected her to be different.

Brienne looks like she’s about to raise her voice again, but then her eyes fall to the bags at your feet and the color drains from her face. “What are you doing?”

“It wouldn’t look too good for you to be with a traitor,” you say, keeping your voice level - as level as you can, at least, as you drink in Brienne’s expression, watching her heart break in real time.

“It… what?” Brienne’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. Her lower lip begins to quiver and she swallows visibly as her eyes dart between you and the packed bags.

What did we lose? What did we lose?

“I’m a traitor now, apparently. I cannot stay here - and the righteous and just Lord Commander should not be seen with a traitor - it’s unbecoming of a knight.” You try for a smile but it looks more like a pained grimace - you feel tears prick at your eyes once again as Brienne’s own eyes turn watery, pale eyelashes fluttering rapidly against her cheekbones.

If I could, I’d pull your strings for one more dance But I can’t

“This life is everything you’ve ever worked for. I can’t be the one to take that away from you. But… I can’t stay. It’s better for both of us like this - you get to keep your position and your honor. And I…” You swallow thickly - your own words sound foreign to you, so far away. “I won’t have to watch the woman I love sell her soul to a heartless monster.”

Brienne’s lips part but she says nothing - the hurt on her face says more than words ever could, but so does her silence. That breaks your own heart most of all.

“Brienne, I-” The words catch in your throat - they can’t get past the lump that has settled there, dying before they even reach your lips.

Isn’t it strange? You look at me I look at you With nothing to say

You have never seen Brienne look at you the way she’s looking at you now - a strange mixture of grief, remorse, and incredulity that looks foreign to you amongst her features. Her eyes, which usually hold all the stars in the galaxy, twinkling brightly, are reserved and guarded. Her lips are pressed into a hard line - curling down slightly at the edges, rather than up. A stray golden curl falls across her furrowed brow - you feel yourself reaching out involuntarily to brush it aside, a force of habit, before thinking better of it and dropping your arm to your side.

“I should go,” you croak out. You reach into your bedside table and pull out an ornate necklace, made of solid gold and sapphires the colors of the waters of Tarth. It’s all Brienne has from her mother, and Brienne had given it to you on your first anniversary - it would suit you better than it had ever suited her, she’d reasoned, and you’d always carry a part of her and of Tarth with you when you wore it. “Here. It was your mother’s, you should have it back.”

Brienne’s eyes widen, the crease between her brows deepens. Her teeth sink into her lower lip to prevent it from quivering again and she turns her head, a shaky breath leaving her throat. “No. I gave it to you - keep it. Please.”

The ‘please’ tapers off into a tremble and you feel the entirety of Westeros being pulled out from underneath your feet. You want to do what she says - but you can’t. She deserves to have a piece of her family with her - and you know you could never wear it again without feeling the weight of your grief hanging around your neck. 

“I can’t.” You place it delicately on the bed - it catches the rays of the setting sun, and the sapphires remind you of Brienne’s eyes, and you glance up at the ceiling, willing your oncoming tears not to fall. You reach down to grab your bags, then, with a deep breath and one last look around the cottage (memorizing, desperately memorizing), you head past Brienne out the door.

Gravel crunches underneath your boots as you round the cottage, taking quick strides towards your horse. A second set of footsteps is not far behind and, as you fasten the bags to your horse’s saddle, slender fingers grip your wrist.

“Don’t leave. Please. Don’t. Leave.” Brienne’s voice breaks this time, and you don’t have to turn around to know that she’s crying. You close your eyes for a moment to steel yourself, then turn to face her. Her expression hurts like nothing you’ve ever experienced, her face scrunched up as tears leave pale tracks down her cheeks. 

“I don’t have a choice,” you whisper, your own voice hoarse and trembling. “They’ll be searching for me soon enough. And you have to tell them that I was gone before you came home. If you want to keep your position, you need to let me go.”

Brienne’s eyes dart between your own and, for a moment, you hope she won’t let you leave. You hope she’ll say that she’ll take your side, that she’ll fight for you - her position be damned. You hope she’ll hop on the horse with you and ride away. You hope she’ll choose you.

But she doesn’t. Her grip on your wrist loosens and her hand falls back down to her side, and though she cries and cries and cries, she stays rooted to the spot.

There you have your answer, you suppose. You swallow against the lump in your throat and turn away, ignoring the broken wail that leaves Brienne’s throat as you mount your horse.

“I love you, Brienne,” you whisper softly - you don’t think she’s heard it over her own sobs, and maybe that’s for the best. You start to ride off, looking back only once, just before you reach a bend in the road that will take you out of King’s Landing. Brienne watches you - but she doesn’t move to follow.

Isn’t it strange? How people can change From strangers to friends Friends into lovers  And strangers again

x

Find part two here!

Taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @rosieathena @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69  @Ssappling2004 @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @The_Demon_of_your_Dream @agathaandgwenslesbian @http-sam @Cute-catx @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @zillahofviolets-bayolet @scarlettssub @catechristiestuff @niceminipotato @barbarasstar @women-are-so-ethereal @thevillagegay @willowshadenox @lilfartbox1 @larissaoftarthweems @syrenacrainn @mysaviorfalsegod @theonefairygodmother @lvinhs @rainbow-hedgehog @sweetderacine @daydream-cement @milfomaniac @sapphos-ode @ilovetlcc @ladylarissaweems @makemyworldworthliving @yourmomwhitediamond

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#brienne of tarth x reader #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth

[oops-its-a-fanwork]

Dancing with the pirate boys~🕺💃

I simply think we should dance! Dancing is fun!💕

This pirate au is by @mega-punani and these are just my non-canon headcanons <3 check out their page for more! (she's currently not updating this au but her page is a lovely visit!)

Sans Sooo you know those dances where one person does very little dancing and the other person is pretty much dancing around them, pulling them in? He'd offer one of those dances as a 'haha gotcha now I don't have to do much' kinda thing, but little did he know how you'd turn the tables on him! Oh the shameless flirting as you danced your little heart out! Your fleeting touches as you flutter around him, the looks you give him, the proximity as you pull him close, face to face, only to then pull away for another wide twirl~ He's at the centre of the stage and he cant leave, since he promised you he would do this for you. But oh this man is flustered. He is bright blue. And he simply cannot move his eyes off you. Even years later you can still easily tease him by seductively asking him to dance. He'll get bright blue and flustered again immediately even after your little wink ;) Ah man, you got him good. (The crew definitely teases him about it alllll the time. He just hehehs some more.)

Papyrus Yes yes yes he would love to dance!! Papyrus loves folk dances, ballroom dances, silly dances, tangos, just- anything!! Please ask him to dance! And don't be surprised if he asks you to dance either! He loves the joy of dancing in a group and seeing how invested and/or exited everyone is. Depending on how he's feeling, he can be either 1: a little stiff due to being nervous (maybe dancing in the crow's nest with waves like these wasn't your best idea...), 2: lose and carefree and a bit over enthusiastic (an absolutely joyous occasion or some alcohol may do this) or 3: comfortable, confident and super romantic (and pretty dang good!). He truly sweeps you off your feet in an awesome way! Definitely the type to be chatty during a dance too so he'll absolutely flirt with you while holding you in a dip.

Blue Folk dances hell yeah!!!! He knows a ton of them, is really good at them and is very enthusiastic! You'll have a lovely time with him and the gang, and he somehow knows how to make you feel special dancing with him even though you are also dancing with a ton of others. Maybe it's the way he looks at you? The time after the dance is well spent too: you are warm and tired and he is telling you stories about the dances' origins and the places he's learned them. If you dance for long enough you might actually get a very rare chance to nap with him: two tired and content smiling nerds snoozing on the couch. Slick and strict dances aren't his thing though. He loves the way they look and how romantic they are, but doesn't have the patience to learn and perform them well. He'll sweep you off your feet in a different way!

Stretch Listen honey. He doesn't dance. He plays the music. Important distinction. You can, however, convince him to try when you two are separated from the rest of the crew. You’ll be in a bustling town and evening is falling, and a band softly plays music for a buzzing cafe with terrace. And you may convince him to let you put your hand on his shoulder, to put his hand on your side, to put his left foot here, and his right foot there, then take a step there… and he'll be sweating the entire time, holding his breath until you tell him to breathe, darling. And he'll be stunned at how close you are. And he won't notice that you're dancing so sweetly until the song is over and you ask if you could do that again sometime. And he responds with a soft and flustered "yes" and watches you meld into the crowd to collect some drinks for you both. And he reasons that Yes, he truly might do that again…

Red "Heheh you can give me a lapda-" "No. >:/"

I think it would be difficult to actually get him to properly dance with you. He might entertain you for half a song but then he'll start trying to convince you to leave the dance floor with him. Its just not really his thing, and on top of that he's actually kind of embarrassed about looking like a fool unless inebriated. If you are out dancing he'll definitely brag to everyone and their parents that you're his pretty partner though! In fact, he might start taking you out to dance when the ship is docked just to show you off (and to make sure you have a good time of course). He'll request whatever music you need from the sidelines and watch you go at it. Man he has it good~

Edge You can convince him to take classes with you and hell take them super seriously, but he may have been too self-conscious/busy to start on his own. Learning to dance wasn't really a priority back on his home island and he might care if the others make fun of him for it, especially given his perfectionism. If he can use your request as an excuse to do it though... that'll probably do the trick! He actually really enjoys it: it's structured and beautiful and he can choose to either be in the spotlight with you or in a group where he doesn't stand out. He gets good really really fast too, so unless you are already quite good at it he'll be teaching you soon enough. It's truly a lot of fun and you actually see him smile a lot doing this. Truly a massive win.

Black An absolute show off. He knows how to ballroom dance but would never tell anyone even if asked. Except for you it seems! He puts you two in matching outfits, asks for a dance, and then shows off the fact that he has mad skills for dances like this. If he really wants to show off he might even create a spotlight out of sun or moonlight on the both of you. And to top it all off, he makes you feel absolutely special throughout the whole thing! …You can absolutely use this closeness to fluster him though. He can't escape your flirts while holding you this close >:3c He won't really join in on sillier dances or folk-dances unless challenged to, but his footwork and discipline are amazing so he likely will excel at any structured dance if he's been able to observe it well enough (to everyone's excitement and surprise). Any freestyling he will fail at though.

Cash On the surface he's making it seem far too easy to get him to dance with you. He makes it seem like he's out to get close and steal your stuff while he's there (as if he needs the proximity), but it's mostly a facade to hide how nervous this makes him. Like, genuinely dancing together? That's… vulnerable. Like Stretch, the crew can't be near at all, and honestly even strangers like a band are too much. You can gently persuade him to dance to the tune of a music box or radio you brought. You know you've made a genuine connection when he DOESN'T show you he stole something afterwards, even though he did it right at the start to have an easy way out of the situation. No one wants to dance with a thief, right? He puts it back in your pocket the next morning, and seems much more mellow the following days.

Bear He has a strict 'no partying in the kitchen' rule for obvious reasons, but if you are often hiding in the kitchen for some quiet time and tend to play soft music he might sway subconsciously to it, and if he has some downtime during the cooking process you might be able to persuade him to gently sway with you for a little bit, creating a lovely big blush on his face. Do a little pirouette in his arms and his day is all better. Other than this he doesn't really dance when the occasion arises, but you will find that he is completely focused on you as you dance either a silly little swing or some beautiful dance. He has no jealousy at all seeing you dance with others, mainly because his focus is entirely on you <3

Cinnamon Although complicated choreographed dances are difficult due to his eyesight and general clumsiness, simple slow couples dance can be done just fine! Simply swaying with him will have him comfortable and a little flustered. He would love to enthusiastically dance too but he's worried about hurting you and possibly falling on his face and embarrassing himself. When you do end up slow dancing he often needs to hold himself back from squealing at how cute you are this close, and he needs to resist the urge to suddenly spin you in circles and hug you so close because aaaa cuteness aggression! If you give him express permission to show it you'll end up having a very good time giggling with him, it's super sweet :) Also I am convinced this man can tap dance (or at least is trying to learn to) so if you can convince him to show you his skills you can have a lot of fun together!

#Stretch writes about that first dance in his diary and squeals the entire time #papyrus x reader #sans x reader #undertale au #pirate au #Honestly if u do end up giving anyone a lapdance please pick Bear it's so fucking worth it--- #papyrus au #sans au #homemade fanworks #suggestive #< mainly for the lapdance mentions tbh #I hope the change in writing style between the crew isn't too strange to read? #I just did whatever felt right but they are very different now oops :p #edit: I called Bear Skull bc I've been working on my pokemon horror boy Skull while writing this oops it's fixed now

[myeagleexpert]

Saudade

Contents: Yuu returns home, but the story isn't over.

Saudade is (in Portuguese folk culture) a deep emotional state of melancholic longing for a person or thing that is absent, but you can only miss something real…right?

So why does Yuu wake up in the middle of the night afraid the ceiling might collapse at any moment? Sometimes she can't go back to sleep peacefully, which is why she sits on the porch and watches a black cat go by, jumping from window to window after anyone who will give him his can of tuna.

It's so weird for Yuu to “return” to normal when she knows she hasn't gone out or traveled for a long time but she feels something is off. She swears that her colleague Carter has always been a redhead, when the blonde actually wanted to dye it black. She was going to order some sweets from Trey Baker's bakery, a taste of delicious homemade food fills her mouth with saliva as she goes to the address, but when she stops in front of her destination her mouth, previously salivating, is stunned to discover that there never was a bakery like this , the neighbors have no idea who the Clover family is.

Her school friends never question her ability or knowledge.

"Why did you miss this potion? Can't you do it yourself?" “How do you not know something so simple? This is taught in primary schools” “Aaah, did you do your homework today? Let me copy"

She didn't listen to discriminatory words or conversations that she should think twice before answering, on the contrary…

“Your hair looks beautiful today, what did you do?” “Yuu, can you help me with this lesson? You are the best in this field” “Yuu dear, let me help you with these boxes” “You draw very well”

She would go to the zoo with her family and stare at the lazy lion hoping its eyes were venomous green and the hyena's laugh sounded different. Did I already mention the white wolf? He refuses to be buddy-buddy with anyone but as soon as you take your eyes off he's wagging his tail at them.

In restaurants she refused to eat the sea foods she always liked, for some reason the eels, octopus and shrimp made her want to vomit.

It's a strange feeling… have you ever felt it?

As if you haven't seen your family for years, when in fact it's only been a week?

As if she hugged someone, and in their warm, comforting arms she suddenly felt the chill of missing them?

Like you're experiencing new feelings in old things… or you feel a different excitement when trying the same route every day.

As if you live in a warm environment where you feel protected and loved for the first time.

By day, it's easy to dance between similar faces or conversations you've had before, it's easy to play a “game” you already know the rules. Yuu ignores these feelings during the day, when the sunlight keeps her warm and the youthful wind carries her carefree laughter.

But at nightfall, in her warm bed, the sheets trap her in terrible dreams where figures that are probably dear to her, “people of her heart” Yuu calls them, are people who live in her heart and, even if she has forgotten who they are, their presence is constant in her mind. Like false memories, or strange déjà vu, Yuu wonders what was real and what wasn't and keeps these turbulent thoughts to herself.

Dreams seem to know the answer. The heart people that Yuu feels she loves and values so much, weren't always heart people. The crimson tyrant carries a feeling of anxiety and cuts deep in the throat, the ambitious king stalks her like prey relishing her fear as claws dig into her arm, the merchant of the depths has a charming smile and calculated words, it would be the same as play a board game with the certainty that you would lose, after all, octopus arms control your every move. The throat tightens filling with sand when challenging the desert sorcerer, the shards of glass were the only thing that was warm as the blood spurted in a dark cold in the desert.

The beautiful queen made her eat poisoned apples and a sadistic smile appeared on her face as the deadly poison made her fragile body lose color and dark spots rotted her body. The divinity of the underworld preferred to burn the protagonist and leave her to suffer in a dark cloud, causing the torture to be prolonged. The dark king brings a sense of betrayal from a dear friend as thorns pierce his body.

Yuu falls out of bed, ironically…her fall saves her from a sad end.

A paralyzing fear invades Yuu, every shadow in her room seems to want to attack, the voices seem to get louder and louder screaming insults at her, a cloud of eyes and witnesses look for her weak points, a hurricane of emotions devours her piece by piece…

knock knock knock

“Honey, are you okay? I heard a noise”- her sweet mother's voice cuts off Yuu's panic as she opens the door

"I fell here, but I'm fine mommy"

It was just a dream.

“Would you like a glass of milk or some tea?”

It was just a dream.

"No need, I'm going back to sleep."- she tries to reassure her mother, who puts her hand on her shoulder

“If you say, good night.”- the mother despite being worried leaves the room, she is also very sleepy

The girl goes to the bathroom in the middle of the night, clearing her thoughts before bed.

Is not real.

If it's not real, what are those scars on her arm and neck? Where do these octopus sucks come from? When did this happen? Where did these black spots come from, it seems that the color does not return to normal there.

Is not real.

As she checks out her legs, she sees aged scars from burns on her right leg and on her left leg you don't see the marks where the thorns tortured her skin, but when you run your hand over it, if you get close enough, you feel it's always been there. .

It was just a nightmare.

That's what Yuu tells herself before going to sleep, a peaceful night will help her forget about these problems. The sight of green fireflies dances to a familiar rhythm, which in their hums works like lullaby music. Where did these fireflies come from?

Gentle rays of sunlight wake her from her sleep, as she goes downstairs she is sure that eggs would be a great idea to start the day and go training, a strong and healthy body is synonymous with a strong and healthy mind! An apple, she eats suspiciously due to the events of the previous night, her mother appears reminding her to eat healthy meals, to apply sunscreen and moisturize the skin, a person's love.

His father, “bonjour belle famille” shouts kissing each one on the forehead, he started to learn French and lives practicing with his dear family.

The calm after the storm. The feeling. The emotion. The reason. Calm is real. The storm is real. But, what about the rain? The thunder? The wind that stun? Let's analyze.

A feeling of calm after the storm. But where does this calm come from if there was no storm in the first place?

Why do you worry so much about things that didn't happen… or did they happen?

Where does the lack of belonging come from if you've never been?

saudade is,in Portuguese folk culture, a deep emotional state of melancholic longing for a person or thing that is absent, but you can only miss something real…right?

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst yuu #mc yuu #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #twist #rollo flamm #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #alguem contrata um psicologo para ela plmdss #mona com todo respeito #saveyuu

[south-of-heaven]

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader with rhea stealing the aux in the car?

Theif || Rhea Ripley x Reader

Summary: Rhea tends to steal the aux cord from you, even when she's driving.

Rhea has a magnetic charm that seems to make everything she does endearing—even her tendency to steal the aux cord from you whenever she can. It's become a running joke between the two of you, and honestly, you don't really mind.

Today is no different. You're both in the car, cruising down the open road, and Rhea is behind the wheel. You're content, watching the scenery pass by, when she suddenly reaches over and snatches the aux cord from your hand. "My turn," she declares with a playful grin.

You chuckle, leaning back in your seat. "Alright, DJ Rhea, what's on the playlist today?"

She scrolls through her phone for a moment before settling on a song. The familiar chords of Self-Destruction by I Prevail fill the car, and you can't help but smile. It's one of her favourites, and seeing her so into the music is kind of adorable.

As the song blares through the speakers, Rhea starts tapping the steering wheel to the beat, her enthusiasm infectious. She glances at you, her eyes bright with excitement, and you can't help but join in, even if it's just by nodding your head along with the rhythm.

At a red light, she turns to you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know, I could be convinced to let you have the aux back if you promise to dance along with me."

You raise an eyebrow, pretending to consider her offer. "Oh, is that the price for the aux cord now?"

She nods, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Absolutely. I need a dance partner."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Alright, fine. But you have to promise not to judge my moves."

Rhea laughs, and you can see that carefree spirit you love so much shining through. "Deal."

With that, the two of you burst into laughter as the light turns green and the car starts moving again. You let loose, swaying and moving to the music, not caring about how you look. Rhea's infectious energy fills the car, and for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you in your own little world.

The song fades out, and you both settle back into your seats, still grinning from ear to ear. "I think that was worth giving up the aux for," you admit, the joy in your voice evident.

Rhea nods in agreement, her smile never fading. "Definitely. Besides, I've got the best dance partner right here."

As she reaches over to give your hand a squeeze, you're reminded once again of just how lucky you are to have Rhea in your life. She might steal the aux cord, but in return, she brings so much light, laughter, and love into every moment you share. And as you continue on your journey, you can't help but feel that with Rhea, even the simplest car ride becomes an adventure filled with joy.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #rhea x reader #rhea ripley

[majorblinks]

when cameras are flashing (ive yujin)

(smut, idol yujin, daddy kink, age gap, choking, "quickie", oral, 5k words)

“So,” you say, and Ahn Yujin smiles brightly at you across the conference table. “How’d you manage to fuck up this week?”

It’s barely professional, but you’re you - you’re past all that, over courtesy, propriety. Yujin’s manager clears her throat, levels you with an unamused glare. You cock your head, spread your hands out in surrender: “Look,” you say, “I’m just trying to get a feel for the situation.” 

“Oh,” says Yujin, in her carefree, entirely charming way. “Well, if you’re just trying to get a feel for it.”

You raise an eyebrow at her. She raises one right back, sweetly challenging. Hey, here’s how it goes with her: another day, another scandal. 

It’s actually kind of insane, considering Yujin is hands-down one of the most normal, sincere, well-intentioned celebrities you’ve ever worked for - and that’s a long list. It’s almost hilarious, that people go after her the way they do, because as far as you can see, she never does anything wrong. She’s practically angelic, by standards of fame. No boys, no bullying allegations, no benders.

Still - and you can say this, because you’re one of the best publicists in the game - being famous at her age and with her face is a largely uphill battle. Gorgeous enough to attract jealousy, genuine enough for all the people jumping through hoops to maintain their personas to despise her, young and talented and charismatic enough for the rumor mill to love her and hate her at the exact same time. There’s sympathy, and of course you have it - but then there’s that look on Yujin’s pretty features, in front of you now.

Nothing gets to her. You find it impressive, a little fascinating: there’s a reason she’s one of your favorites.

“And?” You lean back in your chair, gaze shifting from Yujin to her manager and back again. “What are we dealing with?” 

You’re observing Yujin carefully, trying to get a feel on how bad this is going to be - her long, glossy black hair falls over both shoulders, effortlessly flawless; the fluttering eyelashes, the dimple - then there’s the outfit, the tight white shirt, the pants, tapering in at her tiny waist; they’re an almost offensively vibrant shade of bubblegum pink, but she’s miraculously pulling it off-

Yujin’s manager clears her throat, again. 

You smile. If she’s bothered about you staring at her client, she can say it to your face. “Yes?” 

“There was a photoshoot,” says Yujin’s manager, eyeing you like she thinks you’re about to mount Yujin right there at the conference table - which is extreme. You’re a professional, you’re surrounded by obscenely beautiful people on the daily - and Yujin’s too young for you, anyway. It’s not even a question. Barely even a thought in your head. “Here, take a look-” 

Yujin’s manager passes her phone towards you, lets you swipe through the photos, and - well, shit-

Okay, it’s more than barely a thought in your head. 

“Hm,” you say, keeping your face studiously blank; it’s something you’ve perfected over the years, but still, Jesus. It’s a series of pictures of Yujin in this silky, slinky black two-piece - there are her thighs, the defined cut of her abs, the way she tilts her head, parts her lips; the camera loves her, but who wouldn’t - and it’s sex, it’s sin, it’s every dirty word wrapped up in one - but like you said, both Yujin and her manager are staring straight at you right now, and you’re a professional. 

You place the phone back down on the table, summon all the nonchalance possible. “Looks fine to me.” 

Clearly, you’ve failed, at least on some level. “Dial it back,” advises Yujin’s manager, disdainfully.

“Yeah,” echoes Yujin, cheerfully, fingers laced underneath her chin, dark eyes dancing. “Dial it back.”

You fix her with a pointed glance, cautionary. She’s always a little flirtatious, but that’s her thing, her trademark - it’s easy for the whole country to fall for her when she talks to everyone like they might be able to touch her if they play their cards right - but there’s something a little more obvious about it today, and you don’t know how to take it.

“Sure,” you say, relenting; you don’t know what game she’s playing and you’re not sure you want to. “What are people saying?” 

“People think it’s too suggestive,” says Yujin, raking a hand through her hair, the delicate point of her wrist only a little mesmerizing. “Or seductive, or something. Which is crazy, because it’s just me being hot and existing.”

Somehow all her comments come off as charming rather than arrogant - or she manages both, all at once. It’s that smile: goddamn irresistible. You get why she bounces back from every stupid scandal, and it’s not just that you’re helming the ship of her image. People hate her, they love her, they do both at the same time. Price of fame: it’s a fickle thing. The one constant is that it’s Ahn Yujin, and people never really stop talking about her - and in the end, for a girl like her, that’s the ultimate goal. 

“They’re overreacting,” says Yujin’s manager, but her eyes are back on her phone, her fingers suddenly flicking fast. “It’s not - ugh - I mean, it’s such an insane double standard, the way they treat you versus the way they - fuck, I’m sorry,” she says, right when her phone rings. “I have to take this.” 

“Go ahead,” says Yujin. There’s a goal, here - her eyes dart to you, smile drenched with intention - and she tips her chin up at her manager as she stands. “We’ll behave.” 

This gives her manager pause, right in the doorway. She holds her phone in her hand, lets her gaze do circuits between it and the two of you - but she’s responsible, so she doesn’t have a choice.

“You’d better,” she says, a warning meant solely for you; it’d be insulting, but she probably knows better than anyone how men like you act around girls like Yujin. “I’ll be back in, like, two minutes.”

Then the door’s clicking shut - the sound is like a latch to a coffin, a vault decimated and snapped right open - sealing you in, sure, but opening up something else entirely. Yujin runs her tongue under a canine, studies you like you’re the most interesting thing in the room; you can’t figure out her angle. 

“So,” you say, coolly - you’re trying to maintain some approximation of control. See, you’re far from the most fascinating sight in the vicinity; you’re on one of the highest floors of the building, and all the windows are spotless, glass gleaming - there’s a view to die for, streets and cityscapes and all that open sky - and she’s still looking only at you. 

“I think you’ll be fine,” you continue. You’re not that intimidated by a pretty little pop star, so you’ll hold her gaze. It’s one challenge you don’t mind taking. “It’s not that much to dig you out of. It’s not like the photoshoot was anything majorly scandalous - people are just blowing things out of proportion, but that also means it’ll blow over fast. Because, really, it’s like you said. It’s just you being - well - it’s just you existing.” 

Yujin looks mildly entertained by your fumble, like she knows it was an amateur move. “It’s just me being what?”

You pin her with a look, but she presses on, smile curling at her mouth - it’s a slip-up she’s not going to let slide. “Are you afraid to call me hot?”

“Afraid’s a little strong,” you say, dryly. “I’d say I’m being mindful. Respectful. Professional, if you will.” There’s that word again; you’ll hold onto it like a lifeline. 

“Oh, yeah?” There’s a turn she’s taken, something sneaking into her tone, something primal saturating her dark eyes. Yujin sits up straight, drops her elbows on the table, inclines her head like she’s assessing you. “You think admitting that you think I’m hot would be unprofessional?”

“Deeply,” you say, flexing your fingers so you don’t do something stupid like stand up, like walk over to her, like grip her hair in your fist and trap her body against the conference table. “It’d be a scandal waiting to happen.”

Turns out all your self-discipline is a moot point. Now Yujin’s the one standing from her chair, approaching you slow - there’s something about the way she moves her body, so aware of every dip and curve; it’s like a weapon she’s flaunting, a knife right to your jugular - and she stops right in front of you, propping her hip to the table. She’s standing, and you’re still seated. She’s not exactly short, but she’s tiny compared to you. You shouldn’t think about it, but you’re thinking about it.

“Like I care,” says Yujin, grinning. “Besides - there’s no scandal I could get in that you wouldn’t get me out of, right?”

“You’re feisty today,” you comment, still wrestling for the upper hand. “Does the threat of losing your career get you going or something?”

“I’m not going to lose my career,” says Yujin, airily, like she finds the prospect hilarious. There’s that arrogance, and it’s so much more enticing than it has any right to be. “And - no, it doesn’t. But watching you try to keep your cool while looking at pictures of me when it’s so obvious that you want to fuck me - yeah, I’d call that a turn-on.”

There’s that weapon, aiming and firing; there’s that blade, straight into your neck. There’s your lifelines, sliced to ribbons. “Who says I want to fuck you?”

Yujin laughs at that, full and musical. “Come on,” she says, and it’s a battle you’ve already lost. “Everybody wants to fuck me.”

Your eyes flicker over to the closed door. “Your manager said she’ll be back in two minutes.” 

“She’ll take twenty, minimum.” 

“This is a bad idea,” you warn, but it’s a half-assed cover, barely concealed - you’re not scared of her, but then there’s everything touching her would trigger. She’s got her weapons, but you’ve got your own. The flat of your palm finds her hip, and you won’t stand; you've got other plans. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into.” 

“Why do I have to get into anything?” Yujin’s hands drop, and now she’s popping the button of her pants, sliding the zipper. “It’s just sex,” she says, watching your expression, perfectly cavalier. You grit your teeth. You don't go for it yet. “It’s not the end of the world.” 

“For a girl like you?” you ask, and now she’s dragging down her pants, revealing her panties, thighs, inch by mouthwatering inch. “It would be close.” 

You’re talking about reputation, about the ever-present threat of social suicide - she’s a perpetual hot topic, and just her face sends tongues wagging, so this’d be doomsday - but Yujin’s got her pants pushed down to her knees, and there’s an undercurrent to it, a desire that goes somewhere beyond sexual. You'll bite:

“What’s your angle?” you ask finally, surveying her. Ah, you’ll give her what she wants, but it’s the nature of your job: you need to find every possible way to spin it, all the light and shadow and nuance. “I’ve been your publicist for this long, and you just decided out of the blue that you wanted me to fuck you?” 

Yujin pauses, eyes glimmering, keening into your hand on her hip. “Most guys wouldn’t ask this many questions.” 

“I’m obviously not most guys.” You’re older, you’re smarter, you run her fucking career - if she falls, you do, too. “Are you done deflecting?” 

Oh, talk about light: Yujin tips her head, silky hair spilling over her collarbone, sunlight filtering in through the windows - she’s drowning in it, catching it in her irises like gold, her glint of teeth like there might be already cameras flashing - and slowly, you ease her up onto the table, until you’re sitting in front of her, right between her legs. She’s criminally gorgeous, she’s filthy, she’s everything; she’s staring down at you, deliberating, mouth curved in something like victory. 

“I guess I just realized that I’m getting the reputation of being slutty without actually having any of the fun,” says Yujin. “And I guess-” She plants her hands flat on the table, lets her legs part. “The first person I thought of to help me fix that was you.” 

“Smart choice,” you commend, your hands on her thighs, your thumbs already hooked into the waistband of her panties; you’re touching her now and you’re not sure how you’ll ever stop. 

“I always wanted you to fuck me,” Yujin says, letting the confession slip like it’s weightless. “I promise you it’s nothing new.” 

Well, and that’s-

That’s something that shuts your brain off entirely, reduces you to the tactile - you forget why there was ever a need to hold back, so you won’t; you’ve got your fingers on her skin, spreading, pants shoved to her ankles - you tug her panties down and flick your tongue up, and Yujin whimpers, “Daddy.” 

You stop short, focus flying to her face, and her dark-eyed stare slams right into yours.

“Yujin,” you say, when you finally manage to unstick her name from your throat - it comes raspy, a little ruined - but there’s her attitude, and all that tension between the two of you. The age difference, and the power, and there’s a dynamic, a connotation - and maybe you really should’ve seen this coming.

“Daddy,” Yujin exhales, again, voice tripping to breathy, needy - and, fuck, you think she’s gonna kill you. “I need your mouth.”

You don’t break your gaze on hers, searching - her hands tremble on the table, restless with an urge; she’s used to making demands, but she knows how to read a room. She may have instigated this, but now you’re in it: there’s a switch flipped, a shift in control. You’ve got both hands on the wheel, foot to the gas. She won’t get anywhere by being bossy with you.

“Fine,” you say, smile slipping dark. You can’t say you’re a man who hates having power. “But no touching me.” 

Yujin tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, nods quickly, frantically - it’s not good enough. You hold her eyes, dig your thumb harder into her thigh: “Words, please, Yujin.” 

“I won’t touch you,” Yujin swears. She’s so wet - you can still taste her cunt on your tongue, so you’ll take more. Your mouth’s so close she’s barely forming sentences, squirming with anticipation - “Daddy, I won’t, I just need you-” 

There’s an invitation, and you can’t pass it up. This is a girl who always gets exactly what she wants, and you’re not going to be the one to break that streak, so you lower her mouth to her pussy - there’s her clit, and she’s soaked, she’s mewling - and she’ll be pliant in your grip, in your tongue right where she needs it: “Daddy,” she’s saying, over and over, like it’s the only thing she can remember - oh, you kind of like her that way. “Daddy, daddy-” 

Yujin’s hips stutter like she wants to grind on your mouth, like she wants to dig her fingers in your hair and ride your tongue - but your fingers press into her skin like a warning, and her fists stay staunchly clenched at her sides, fiercely white-knuckled-

“Good girl,” you mumble, against her cunt, listening as Yujin’s moans tumble from her mouth. “That’s my good girl.”

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum-” 

She says it, but she doesn’t have to - her eyes are shut tight, her perfect face screwed up like she’s on the verge on collapse - she’s shuddering, she’s on a precipice, she’s so, so close-

You scrape your nails lightly down her thighs - I could hurt you but I won’t; there’s always an implication - and then Yujin’s cumming in your mouth. 

You'd let her settle, let yourself linger, but you really don't have the time: “Baby,” you say, and you’re rising, licking your lips - she tastes like something holy, but that’s a given. "We only have twenty minutes, so if you want me to fuck you, you better get moving.” 

“Can I touch you?” You’re helping Yujin off the table; you’re dragging her towards the windows. You’ve got an agenda here, and her fists are clenching, unclenching - she’s got her gaze trained on your cock straining your slacks. “Let me, please - I want your cock-” 

“Look at you,” you say - you nudge her until her back hits the glass, and she’s facing you, pants wrapped around her ankles - she’s gorgeous, she’s waiting; she’s impatient but tamping it down just for you. It’s those eyes, so expressive: if her mouth wasn’t saying it, you’d still know exactly what she wanted. “Asking for permission.” 

“Daddy.” 

“Yeah, baby,” you say: it’s not a relinquishment of power, it’s a reinforcement. “Get my cock out.” 

Yujin does, in record time - she’s keyed up, deliciously wired, but her hands are certain, don’t fumble a bit - you’re skipping lines and walking them right back, so you kiss her first, catch her mouth with yours: there’s a surprise to the way she loses her own breath against your lips, and then a surrender, a giving in - you’re grinning, devilish. You’re sure she can feel it.

When you pull back, she’s panting, lips slick. She can taste her pussy on your tongue and you know it. “Tell me,” you’re saying: you need to hear it. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” 

“I want your cock.” There’s not even any hesitation - Yujin’s so far past that. Hey, maybe she did know what she was getting into: she knew exactly the way you’d treat her. “Want your cock in my pussy, want you to fuck me, want you to make me cum around your cock-” 

There’s her perfect face, crumbling to pieces, pupils blown so wide they’re drowning her dark irises - you flip her around and skim your hands down her flawless ass, push her up against the floor-to-ceiling windows - it’s all so ruthlessly transparent, like you’ve gotten into a museum just to vandalize the art, mark it up and make it yours, destroy her encased behind glass - and Yujin’s soundless, so wanton and wet she can’t even form words, noises-

And then you slide your cock in her cunt, slowly, torturously, and her voice gets ripped right out of her throat. 

“Daddy-” 

Her throat - oh, there’s a corner to cut, a sculpture to tear up and ruin - your fingers wrap around her neck from behind, rendering her helpless, strangled. “Shh,” you murmur, sinister, low, “sweetheart - you don’t really want to get caught like this, do you?” There’s a thrill, there’s a high - you’ve got her against the glass like she’s suspended in thin air, and there’s her smile on a billboard across the street, there’s all those people who know her name crowding the sidewalks below - and she’s all yours. “Getting your little pussy fucked during a professional meeting because you’re just too slutty to control yourself?” 

Yujin’s shirt and bra are pushed up roughly, carelessly, her perky tits bouncing, nipples skimming the glass - she’s leaking all over your cock, and you’d hate to be the janitor after this, but at least they’re getting paid well - it’s all about scrutiny, about secrecy, hiding behind tinted windows and sunglasses and silver-screen smiles, and you’re destroying all of that just by using Yujin’s suffocatingly tight cunt, tensing your hand around her throat-

Your thumb digs into her jaw. “Answer me.” 

 “I - I don’t - I don’t fucking care.” She’s barely getting words out under your grip on her throat, between the lungfuls of air she’s chasing after, faint and flightless - “I don’t care, daddy,” she’s insisting, and her vehemence is fucking consuming, addicting - “Don’t care, I just want your cock in me, just need you to fuck me, just need you to make me cum, make you cum, fill me up-” 

“I’m not cumming inside you, baby.” 

“What?” She sounds so horrified that you can’t help but laugh, and the sound rings cruel, sharp; people call you cold in this conference room, sometimes, conniving, callous. It’s nothing, to you: you do what needs to be done and you keep it at work and work alone - or you did, until her. “What? But - daddy, please, daddy - please-” 

She's being too fucking loud - you’re bottoming out inside her pussy relentlessly, recklessly - you’ll spin excuses later, or you won’t. The worst thing anybody can do is talk, and you’ll talk over them: your PR training wasn’t for nothing. You could manipulate the apocalypse out of the press as long as you find the right angle. You weren’t lying, earlier: anyone catches her like this and it’d be close. 

“Doesn’t matter how much you beg for me, Yujin.” There are caveats, barriers you won’t cross; not with a girl like her, not yet. “You might be fucked up enough to risk your career just for a load inside your cunt, but I’m not. Your career is my career, sweetheart. If you fuck up, it’s all on me.”

It’s like the atmosphere is electric, wired with sex, sensuality - anyone who walks into this room after this is going to know exactly what you’ve been doing to her - anyone on the sidewalk who so much as glances upwards is going to see-

“You don’t wanna fill up my pussy with your cum?” Yujin’s cunt is so tight that she’d probably be able to convince anyone of anything, and then there’s that voice, throaty and heated, letting filth pour as easy as her moans. “You don’t wanna use me as your - fuck - your fucking cumdump, daddy?” 

That’s a question she’s posing and precariously, a proposition so tempting you’d call it fatal - but there’s your fist around her throat, there’s you in control, drafting rules, contracts. You're too experienced to fall for it. You’re on the clock even when you’re not. You know just how far to take it and when to pull it back.

“Nice try,” you say, and your hand presses down on her neck in a warning, your cock burying in her pussy in an emphasis, “but I’ve been on this scene a long time, Yujin. Your pussy’s great - but I’m sorry, baby, my career’s just a little bit greater.” 

It’s so degrading - it’s you, older and condescending and cutting her down to size with a smile - and she loves it, she lives for it. You shouldn't have expected anything less.

“You think I’d give it all up for some slutty little pop star?” you press on, and you’re rubbing it in, salt in the wound: “You idols are all the same.” Another thrust, another moan: here’s how it goes with her. “All that fucking ego.” 

Her whole body’s tightly wound, a spring coiled and ready to burst - she’s so wet around your cock, she’s so ready - “Daddy,” Yujin begs, syllables rasping prettily, and even the way she gets fucked is like music, “I’m gonna cum - gonna cum on your cock-” 

There’s no acoustics that could ever do that voice justice, no photoshoot that could ever capture that body, every creamy curve, her ass as your hips thrust - the arch of her back, the column of her throat, architecture made soft and breakable and shattered - your hand drops to her clit-

“Cum for me, baby,” you murmur, and shove her tits against the window: if the world wants to see Ahn Yujin like this, all they have to do is look up. “Cum for daddy.” 

She follows the order so easily it’s practically compulsive; it’s the sound of your voice, your fingers on her clit, your dick pounding at her cunt, it’s everything - and Yujin’s whole body contorts, convulses, slumps against you as she cums, a high noise trapped in her throat. It’s some attempt at your name, or at least the one she’s calling you now. 

You nip at her neck on the comedown, allow her to ride it out. “Get on your knees,” you murmur, then you let your teeth sink. 

It barely takes a second - she’s not even coherent - but Yujin’s neck arcs, gives you access; you’re not sure she understands a word until she’s falling right out of your arms, off your cock, dropping dutifully to the floor. You can’t fight the smile: she’s so easy, in this context and no other, her shirt shucked up and her pussy slick, glistening, her mouth opening expectantly like she’s just waiting for you to use it. Your hand finds her cheek, suddenly soft: she’s been good, she deserves it.

“Yujin.” 

Yujin doesn’t say a word, just lets her jaw slacken, her eyes wide and wondrous, gorgeous; you see the dimple flicker in her cheek, an aftershock, betraying her own satisfaction. She can’t even control herself. Her thighs are still trembling, expression mildly dazed. 

“Sorry I couldn’t cum in your cunt, sweetheart,” you say, loftily. It’s hardly genuine, but she’s too sated to care. “You think I can settle with your mouth?”

There’s that dimple, deepening; she’s somewhat incapable of saying no to you, and that’s a new development, that’s something you’ll prove over and over again - Yujin jerks forward, and wraps her salivating mouth around your dick. 

Her tongue’s sloppy around your cock, spit-strung, messy, like she’s so well-fucked she doesn’t remember how to work it - it’s your job, so you’ll take it all into your own hands; hey, it’s what you’re used to, it’s the part you were always meant to play - there go your fingers, digging tight into her hair, forcing her jaw deeper, forcing tears from her brilliant eyes-

“You better swallow it all,” you tell her, low and dangerous; your nails scrape her scalp, and she chokes around your cock at the feeling - it’s that hint of pain, humiliation, her on her knees in your conference room. “You wanna be good for daddy, don’t you?” Your hand finds the back of her head, shoves your cock down her throat. “Then swallow.” 

You cum so much you can hear the wet, huffy noise in Yujin’s mouth, the air through her nose - and she swallows it all, even as you pull out and it clogs her cheeks, and she’s staring at you with glassy, impish eyes like she’s got something to prove-

And then it’s all gone. 

“Good girl,” you tell her, a little wrecked. Hey, she fucking deserves it. 

Yujin trails a finger around her mouth, licks off the remnants of your cum, looks up at you through her eyelashes. It’s obscene, it’s dirty, it’s hot - and that’s your last thought before you drag her up from the floor and catch her lips with yours, because you can’t be bothered to come up with anything else. 

She tries to talk, slurring against your tongue. “You just-” 

“I don’t give a fuck.” 

“In my mouth-” 

“Yujin.” 

It’s something about your tone, accidentally petulant rather than bossy, exasperation soft and unmasked - all of a sudden Yujin’s laughing right into the kiss, her arms wound around your neck, the sound half-delirious, glorious. 

“You were so wrong,” she mumbles, licking hot like she’s readying for a round two. You’ve got her face in your hands, you can’t get enough of her: if you could you’d freeze time and indulge her, over and over again. “This is the best fucking idea I’ve ever had.”

She’s kissing you again, right back in it, and, well - you can’t really say that you disagree. 

-

“I think you were heavily exaggerating, by the way.” 

“Hmm?” 

“You don’t have the reputation of being slutty,” you say, a hand in her hair, watching the sun illuminate her eyes. That’s the thing about windows, all this glass and open space: they show off views, but they’re also creating them right in front of you. “I’d never let it get that far.” 

Yujin grins at you. “I know,” she says - she’s returning to form, letting the moment close. She’s back on top. It’s probably a good thing that you’re right there by her side. “You’re good at your job, or whatever.” 

“Now, you being slutty in real life-” 

“Shut the fuck up, old man.” 

Okay, you can’t possibly be that much older than her. “What happened to daddy?” 

“Daddy privileges are revoked on account of you being fucking annoying.” 

“That mouth,” you say, considering - there are ideas taking shape, but you’ll let them dissolve. You’ve already used up more time than you should have. “What would your fans say?” 

Yujin tips her head back and laughs. “I don’t care,” she says, smiling, and that’s the best view of all. “I have you to deal with that.” 

-

You and Yujin are on opposite sides of the conference table when her manager gets back, but neither of you are fooling anyone. Sure, you’re both remarkably cleaned up, stitched back together - but the room smells like sex, and her hair’s just a little fucked up, and you can’t stop looking at her; her dark eyes glint right on back, one leg demurely crossed over the other. 

“I don’t even want to know,” says Yujin’s manager tightly, firmly in the doorway, like she’ll get contaminated just from stepping into the room. 

“Good,” you say, “because you can’t know. Legally. I made her sign an NDA.” 

“What?!” Yujin’s manager splutters, irate, and Yujin laughs loudly, prettily, head tipping back, clapping her hands in the air - she laughs like her own amusement is something to spill over and share with everyone in the vicinity, alluringly infectious, and - yep, you get why the whole world is obsessed with her. You’ll join the club. 

“I’m kidding,” you put in, grinning at Yujin as she stands, lips puckering to hide her own mirth. “You remember what a joke is, right, Jihyo?” 

“Jesus,” mumbles Yujin’s manager. Hey, you and Jihyo came up in the industry at the same time, you’re not opposed to bringing out first names in the conference room with her - and you think any semblance of professionalism is pretty much gone at this point. “You know this is how rumors get started, don’t you?” 

You wink at Yujin as she goes to Jihyo’s side, towering over her almost comically. Jihyo may barely hit five-three, but she has enough behind-the-scenes pull and power to start or end anyone’s career with a snap of her fingers. You'll placate her, for everyone's sake.

“Well,” you say. “It’s a good thing my job is to get those rumors to stop, then.” 

“Like, how convenient is that?” Yujin tacks on, chirpily, flashing her dimpled smile at Jihyo. 

Jihyo’s eyes dart from you to Yujin, clearly agitated and annoyed in equal measures. It’s sort of bad already, but here you are pushing her buttons anyway; you’ll walk it back. 

“It’s already happening,” you tell her, because it’s not exactly up for debate. “Might as well get on board.” 

“This is your jurisdiction, buddy,” says Jihyo, throwing her hands up - it’s as close to a stamp of approval as you’ll ever get from her. “I’m not touching this.” 

Your eyebrows raise, and Yujin covers her laugh with her palm. “Uh, I sure hope not.” 

The innuendo, the scent of sex, the way you swear there’s a hickey forming on Yujin’s throat - it’s too much for her to handle all at once. “You two are fucking insufferable,” declares Jihyo, pretty mouth in a scowl; not a lot fazes her, but this is pushing her limits and hard. “I’m going to get permanent brain damage from being around both of you together. Yujin, come on.” 

Yujin wiggles her fingers in a wave, sends that adorable dimple your way. “Bye, daddy,” she calls to you, and pulls the conference room door shut behind her. 

In the retreating distance, you hear Jihyo choke on her own breath, audibly appalled. “What did you just-”

Oh, after all this, maybe it doesn’t really matter who hears. You’re you, you can talk your way out of anything - and then there’s Yujin, who wears fame like it’s something designer, something inherited by birthright and tailored just for her. She’ll never be out of the spotlight for long. She’ll always bounce back, in the end.

Plus - you can admit it now, since there’s no point in a trite thing like shame - there’s something so satisfying about the idea that you’re the only one who can get her out of this kind of trouble, but you’re also the only one who got her in it in the first place. Like you said: it’s all about power. You’ll keep it, you’ll nurture it. Yujin, to her credit, doesn’t seem to mind that at all. 

(She’s never been more right: it's just so fucking convenient. You’re pretty sure it’s a match made in hell, but a match nonetheless. You'll take it.)

-

The next time you see her is a week or so later, and it should shock you, but it doesn’t. She drops by, unannounced, unburdened by bodyguards or company representatives or Jihyo, shows up in your office doorway in jeans and a black top, hair tied back and bare-faced and heart-stoppingly beautiful.

“Hey, baby,” you say, like it’s instinct. It’s probably about to be. “How’d you manage to fuck up this week?” 

“No fuck-ups yet,” says Yujin cheerily, eyes trained on you as you round the desk. “I was kind of hoping you could help me get a head start on that.” 

Look - this is still probably a bad idea, or it would be, if you were anyone else. It’d be so difficult to find a way to spin this, if you were found out. She’s one of the most famous celebrities in the country. People are just begging to ruin her, to see her fall from grace. It’d be so easy for this to be a complete fucking disaster. 

(Ah, well - it’s pretty fortunate that she’s got you, then; she’s in very, very good hands.)

“You’re in the wrong place,” you tell her, blithely conversational. There’s a smirk unfurling at the corner of Yujin’s mouth - you know what kind of game you’re playing. “It’d actually be great for your career, I think, if you’re only fucking me and no one else.” 

“Is that your professional opinion?” 

You press your palm to her cheek, drag her face to yours; you skip her lips, drop your mouth to her forehead, instead. Yujin flicks her glittering eyes up at yours, her dimple winking at you. She’s not short, but she’s small next to you - you think she might like it that way. 

“Yep,” you say. “Whenever you want to avoid a scandal, call me.” 

“Ugh,” says Yujin. “You’re lucky I think you being possessive is hot.” 

You’re missing a reckoning by inches, skirting the end of the world by a thread: alright, you’ll let it happen. You’ve got a girl in front of you and you think you’ve met your match. You’ve got all that power, but she does, too - you’ll never say it out loud, but it’s possible she’s got you wrapped around her finger, she’s got you breaking rules. It’s all very delicate, this thing you’re getting into. 

“Sweetheart,” you say, and watch as her grin cracks wide open, sun through all those open windows - there’s no sight in the country that compares. “I think we’re both getting lucky.” 

Yujin groans, but then she kisses you, and that’s where you’re drawing all your last conclusions: you think you wouldn’t mind risking everything as long as she’s with you. 

-

<3

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #idol x male reader #reader insert #male reader #yujin smut #idol x reader #ahn yujin

[captainmera]

I'm reading your Caleb fic and actually losing my mind over how good and fitting his characterization feels, how well you put the seeds of becoming a bad person in Philip without making him Evil Child and instead make it feel like a natural progression, how everyone's so NUANCED, the historical accuracy, EVELYNS CHARACTERIZATION!!! God!!! I love all of this!!!! (Also the closeted bi Caleb.)

Thank you! :D

Yes, I'm having fun crafting Caleb specifically with Philip turning into the guy Luz meets in canon, and eventually Belos, in mind.

I asked myself: Who the hell raised this dude!? :l And out came my version of Caleb, lol.

And yes, I don't think Philip was a bad kid. I think he became a bad person. Like most people who grow up, things happen and.. You know.

When you look at an adult who is angry, cruel and hateful, you seldom see their whole story. You see them for who they are right now and their unjustifiable actions and behaviours.

Caleb isn't a great parent. He's a good brother, not a half-bad provider, but parent? Not really. He was a kid when he raised his brother, and nobody taught him how to do it right. His outlet for frustrations and feeling helpless allowed him to cognitively dissonance himself from his cruel actions as a witch hunter.

We have no control. There is both freedom and imprisonment in knowing we are powerless to the chaos of hindsight. The endless human toiling of reminiscing in the "what ifs" of life will curse us all to an early doom.

The acceptance of no control, strangely, gives you more control and peace of mind. Sometimes, you can do everything right and it still goes wrong. Sometimes you do everything wrong and things turn out fine!

Doesn't mean people are blameless. Knowing the cause of something doesn't excuse the action or the choices you made.

But recognising that you made choices at the time based on what you knew and believed to be right - does give insight to things. What to do with that insight is up to each and every person.

Evelyn I'm enjoying quite a lot. Because she's not mentally ill like Caleb, who's depressed and suicidal. A character doesn't have to be unwell to be interesting. People have emotions and struggles anyhow. She's a nice person, she means well; she's a perfect example of someone who is just benefit-of-doubt enough to walk into dangerous spaces in good faith. Which puts her in situations Caleb must interfere with, lest she gets found out as a witch.

They save each other, in a way. :)

Caleb closeted bisexuality is a source of great delight to write a sub-plot for. Caleb, v.s. his ideas of what makes a man, is a fun field to dance on. He has been fed a lot of self-destructive ideas that he tries to live up to.

And Evelyn's nonchalant self-expression is also a great delight to write. She's carefree to the point people mistake her for an airhead and kind of stupid. Which isn't true, she just trust in that there is good in people until proven otherwise, and she tries her best to not let those experiences discourage her from new relationships. I like exploring that strange box that often occurs with her personality type - as though being kind and gentle is somehow dumb or naive.

BUT YEAH, Theyre very fun to write! :)

#ttocw #ttocw ask

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

What kind of drunk would the villagers of SDV be? 👀

Heh, it was so funny to write the answer to this ask right after my own hangover. Quite the experience, I would say 😅

I hope, anon, you don't mind if I don't write about Evelyn and George and the kids on this ask, because trying to imagine them drunk... is an unpleasant thought for me. But I will describe all the others (if I do not forget about someone). Thanks for your ask! ❤️

Drunk SDV villagers (except Evelyn, George and kids):

Oh what music! After 3 or 4 glasses of sambuca, Emily feels much more energetic (even more than usual) and simply has to find a potential victim partner to dance until they both fall to exhaustion. In the morning, however, she does not remember anything.

In general, Sebastian despises the taste of alcohol, but somehow he decided to try something like Amaretto coffee or Irish coffee (basically coffee with liqueur or whiskey). Yuck, Sebby didn't appreciate it. The taste of alcohol is terrible and now he feels sleepy and weak. And he can't ride his motorcycle in that condition. It sucks, now he's a mischievous and sleepy drunk.

Jodi is always busy cleaning the house and cooking, so she has almost no time to relax. But if she does get a chance to have a glass of wine with Caroline and Marnie, then she will be more cheerful and a little more chatty, nothing hardcore.

Preferring more green tea and coffee, Caroline, however, also agrees to hang out with friends with the bottle of something strong. Being slightly drunk from a couple of glasses of wine, Caroline will chuckle at her friends' every joke, and may even decide to order a stronger drink. True, all the energy leaves quickly and she immediately becomes drowsy drunk.

Cheerful and energetic, Abigail is ready to conquer mountains after a few strong cocktails. A drunk girl teeters on the edge of "noisy party soul" and "I'm ready to get into any fight for my homies." Luckily, she's not drunk enough to stubbornly go into the mines with a sword in her condition.

Marnie, having drunk about 5 glasses of wine, becomes flirty drunk. And Lewis's slightly angry comments about the fact that she can work on their secret relationship does not bother her at all. It's been a long time since she felt so cheerful and carefree, just like when she was young, ah...

Lewis, meanwhile, teeters somewhere between "paranoid drunk" and "sleazy drunk." At his age, it's not very useful to drink so much alcohol, and now to keep an eye on Marnie, who, as he thinks, will now blather everything about the two of them to everyone. Damn it, you can rest calmly without worries, you old fart.

Let's race, who's faster? Or let's fight on the hands? Alex wants the competition to prove that even though he's a little tipsy, he's still the best. Although the next day he will be ashamed if during the fun he broke some dishes or chair, and apologize to everyone.

Shane canonically is a depressed drunk. He sits in a corner of the Saloon and drinks mostly alone. Please don't touch him, otherwise he will transform from a depressed drunk into an angry drunk. And you definitely don't want to see Shane drunk AND angry.

If the Saloon has karaoke, then Elliott will be always there after drinking mugs of strong ale or wine. Apart from his loud singing, he becomes reckless enough to spontaneously do anything. Gus or the others often help Elliott get home before the failed singer (sorry Elliott, but you write so much better than you sing) hurts himself or others. The poor guy would later lock himself up in his cabin for a couple of days when he found out about his drunken adventures.

After an extra drink, Sam suddenly becomes overly affectionate and touchy-feely. In a state of intoxication, it seems to him that he did not hug someone enough, or that he was not hugged enough. Hug him please, he's like a little puppy.

Linus doesn't drink alcohol, but sometimes in the harvest seasons in the forest he often comes across fermented fruits and berries. Linus almost always processes them carefully before eating so that he doesn't get more intoxicated during dinner, but sometimes he can occasionally eat some raw fermented grapes before bed. He perfectly understands which fruits are more fermented or less. But he treats this without fanaticism, because the main goal is to eat, not get drunk.

"What if? No, it's impossible. But what if I use that formula, and... Nah, it still won't work. But what if I... No no no. Or maybe yes? Or maybe..." The constant ebb and flow of ideas for new inventions is a typical behavior for Maru when she has a drink that is quite strong for her. This will continue until she falls asleep. It is good that her brother is nearby and help her.

Ah, for old Willy there's nothing better than a bottle of mead after a hard day of fishing. So to speak, to celebrate a successful catch. He most often drinks alone, even when in the Saloon, but can occasionally tell his fishing stories to Marlon, Gil, or Clint with a few drinks. And no matter how much he drinks, he will remain the same. Honestly, as if in the mug not alcohol, but just water!

Penny will never touch a drink, but there was a case when she accidentally drank Sam's cocktail, confusing it with her glass of juice. She immediately became sloppy drunk, embarrassed by her condition and making haste to get home. Penny doesn't understand how her mother can enjoy such a state.

Oh, the doctor knows that in small doses, wine can even be beneficial to the body. But when, by coincidence, Harvey has to drink more than his body can handle, then this is a complete blackout. He doesn't remember anything and prays that he did not do anything obscene.

Pam is an aggressive drunk. This is even more noticeable when her order for another beer is delayed by more than five minutes. Mostly this is a verbal skirmish, Pam will not show physical aggression (unless it concerns her daughter. For her sake, she will grab anyone by the throat, and she does not need alcohol for this).

Usually Wizard is always strict about alcohol, but there are times when you just want to get drunk. Given that he always drinks alone, he is most often sad drunk, remembering the old days when he and his ex were still together. If anyone (Farmer) wants to console him, then let them mentally prepare for an hour-long story about his ex-wife, youth, and that "the grass used to be greener."

Marlon will also remember the old days with a glass of whiskey along with Gil, but unlike the same Wizard, Marlon's stories are more filled with fun and excitement. Usually he is strict and silent, but when a little drunk, he opens up a little more, with his comrade remembering their adventures when the young guys just embarked on the path of an adventurer. These old people deserve some rest and fun.

Pierre considers a couple of strong cocktails a well-deserved reward after a hard week at work. The alcohol in his blood makes him more talkative, but now his tongue is tangled up so that you no longer understand whether Pierre asked to repeat the order, or somehow insulted you.

The last cocktail was obviously superfluous, but Haley didn't care. She wants to have fun, and why is the music so quiet, and let's all dance, and she already changed her mind don't touch her, and anyway where is her other cocktail? Cheerful, energetic, but at the same time more capricious - this is how it goes.

Kent has been very wary of drinking since he returned to Stardew Valley. After all he's been through, it's very easy to drown at the bottom of the bottle, and he doesn't want to get to that point. He still has his family. So he asks Gus, Marlon or Willy to stop him if he gets depressed drunk after a mug of beer or two.

Ah, the tango began to play in the music machine! Robin will not miss the opportunity to dance with her husband to passionate music. She usually asks her husband, but after a few sips of ale, Robin pulled Demetrius off the table and onto the dance floor with almost one tug.

The same Demetrius, after drinking, was very sleepy, but the whole life flashed before the eyes of the poor scientist, when his dearest wife grabbed his hand and he heard the words "tango". Demetrius loves Robin and will not refuse her a dance, but still, a strong drink affected the scientist's vestibular apparatus, and he dances no better than a rag doll. But it looks funny Maru and Sebastian will definitely film this on camera as compromising evidence for the future.

Clint has a fairly high tolerance for alcohol, so he probably drinks almost every day. Even in the cinema, he manages to smuggle alcohol under the guise of Joja Cola. So you can call him secret drunk: no matter how much he drinks, he does not look drunk. Just like Willy.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv headcanons #sdv marlon #sdv maru #sdv marnie #sdv abigail #sdv penny #sdv shane #sdv kent #sdv sebastian #sdv alex #sdv willy #sdv harvey #sdv jodi #sdv caroline #sdv sam #sdv elliott #sdv emily #sdv haley #sdv lewis #sdv linus #sdv gil #sdv wizard #sdv pam #sdv robin #sdv demetrius #sdv clint #sdv pierre #sorry if i forgot someone

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Can you please write a dark Daemon fic where he abducts Rhaenyra’s lady in waiting when he goes back to King’s Landing to steal the dragon egg.

❄️ DAY ONE OF COUNTDOWN ‘TILL CHRISTMAS ☃️

A/N: oh to be a maid in the right place at the right time, thank you for requesting something on the dark side, it has my heart ❤️ Taking Requests - Link to the characters I write for. Masterlist

Word Count: 1,128

Summary: Reader finds herself walking the halls late at night, running to the kitchen for her rambunctious princess. When she drops a platter of grapes and cheese, an unexpected visitor is there, sneaking away.

“Don’t drink any more wine, I’ll be right back!” You say, closing the door on what you were witnessing. No one see’s Rhaenyra like you and Cate do, dancing around her room in her bloomers, embarrassing herself.

You wish you could be so carefree. But here you are, hiking down flights of stairs to make a board of cheeses. Just so the princesses stomach won’t be empty and leave her feeling ill. No one thinks like a lady in waiting does.

You curse Cate in your head, “it’s your turn” you recall her saying. You roll your eyes as you pick the vines from grapes. As if you wanted to come down to the dark creepy kitchen late at night. This castle is deadly in the dark.

You settle with the foods you’ve presented, not being able to stand in the kitchen a second longer. You pick up the tray of food, cautiously carrying it back to her room. When you turn the corner for the hidden servants stairs, you’re met with a solid chest.

Expensive cheese and fruit flies everywhere, and you’re on your knees apologizing, picking up scraps from the floor. “Forgive me, I wasn’t paying enough attention to where I was going.” You look up to address the person you crashed into. But it’s the last person you’d expect coming down the servants stairway.

“Prince Daemon, what are you doing here?” You say, knowing he was meant to be hundreds of miles away. You stop searching for chunks of food when you see what he has in his hands. A dragon egg reflects the flicker of flames back at you. You know something is very wrong. “What are you doing with Baelon’s egg?”

You’d know it from anywhere, you sat in the room as everyone held their breath, when the soon to be heir never got his chance to. It was burned in your memory, two lives that were meant to be so full, now taken from each other. Baelon would never ride a dragon, and that dragon would never be ridden by a king.

“That doesn’t seem to be any of your business, does it?” Daemon says, holding his head high while he looks down at you on the floor. You stand to your feet, giving him an incredulous look. “I will have no other option than to go straight to the king. Right at once!”.

You were far from a rule breaker. Anything but straight and narrow stressed you out. There’s a reason you’d been tasked to watch over Rhaenyra so closely. You couldn’t stand and watch as the prince did something so terrible to his brother.

“I can’t let you do that.” Daemon says, stepping in front of you. “Prince Daemon, this isn’t funny, you must put it back.” You say, trying to reason with him. You look between his eyes but there’s no humor in them.

You have a stand-off, Daemon standing on the stairs, holding the dragon egg. Then there’s you, cowered down, covered in food. “I can’t let you leave this castle with that. I would never forgive myself. The king would never forgive me.” You say, letting him know you’re not backing down.

“What makes you think you can stop me?” He says, giving you a laugh that makes your skin crawl. You don’t actually know what you could do. There’s no one around, and since it’s so late, no one would be coming till morning. You couldn’t stand here all night. You couldn’t disarm him, or take it back. His strength very much outnumbers yours.

“That’s what I thought.” He steps past you, as you just stand there, still trying to think of a way to stop him. “Why?” You say, at least needing to know that. He stops in his tracks, turning around to you. “Because it’s fun disrupting things. Being the reason they’re not how they should be.” He steps back towards you. “You look like you’ve never disrupted a thing in your life. I bet you’d like it.”

You shake your head. “Not everyone likes chaos. It’s fulfilling to follow the rules.” He laughs in your face. “Why don’t I show you disruption. Since you think stealing an egg is a criminal offense.” He says, grasping your bicep.

Your eyebrows furrow, standing firm in your spot. “No, just go, they’ll know who did it soon enough.” You say, not wanting to fight with him. He ignores you and pulls you down the hall. “Rhaenyra will be expecting me.” You try to give him a good enough reason to stop his charade.

Every word falls on deaf ears. It’s as if the prince has already made his mind up, and you were the last person in the world who could change it. You start to get frantic when you step outside into the cold air. “Stop, I’m sorry for saying anything. Just let me go.” You begin to plead.

Daemon continues to drag you down to the beach. You see Caraxes waiting there in the distance. You’d never saw a dragon up close. Rhaenyra refused to let you in the pit with her, she feared for your safety. “Please!” You fall to the ground. Now you were terrified. You know the princes’ history. He has no problems with turning you to ash right on this beach.

“I’m too young to die!” You wail out, giving every last shot at survival. Daemon let’s you go, and stands there watching your outburst. “You poor thing. I’m not going to kill you. I’m taking you with me.”. That does nothing to calm you.

“So you can kill me later? No thanks.” You say, laying down on the sand. “I can’t run, or fight you. So kill me now.” You say, at least wanting to die on your own terms.

Daemon bursts out in laughter. You look at him as if he’s a mad man. “You’re getting on that dragon.” He walks over to Caraxes, hiding the egg in a satchel strapped to them. He walks back over to you, grabbing each of your ankles. “Now either I’m dragging you up there, or you can climb yourself. You decide.” You wince as he squeezes your ankles, letting his anger show.

You nod, just wanting him to release your feet. “Good girl.” He turns around, climbing up the side of the dragon. You fall behind him, situating yourself in the leather seat. Your hands shake as you search for something to hold onto.

Daemon wraps a hold around his right hand, and rests his left on your knee beside him, he turns his head, looking back at you. “Scared?”. He thinks this is just a game, you remain quiet as he places your hands on his waist “Just hold on.”

#daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #request #countdown #christmas countdown

[ughitsnic]

Jealous: Robin Buckley x Reader

Kinda angsty which I don’t normally do but I liked how it turned out. And it’s way longer than I normally write. My requests are also still open.

Warnings? Language and alcohol, let me know if I missed anything

Robin stood back from everyone, leaning against the wall, holding her drink close, her hand resting over the top of her cup. Normally after a couple of drinks she would join in with everyone dancing and singing, but not tonight. The room began to grow increasingly unbearably hot, her chest felt tight.

“Fuck” she mumbles, finishing her drink in hopes it would cool her down. She runs her fingers through her hair, moving it away from her face, never once letting her gaze sway from you… and Steve.

Robin would be lying to her self if she said she wasn’t jealous of the past between you both. The short lived relationship between yourself and Steve was intense, both of you falling hard, taking everything too fast and what ever romance it was there, fizzled out by the end of the summer. But Steve and you were still best friends, which robin couldn’t understand. The way you were pressed up against him and how his hands roam your body didn’t exactly scream best friends. You and Steve were perfect for each other in her eyes, you were the same people, the same silly egos, same sense of humour, same friendship group in school. She could never be what you needed her to be, she could never be Steve.

You can’t remember the last time you fully let lose and let your self enjoy a party, the room was humid and a thin layer of sweat coated your body, the sensation of the bass in your chest was making you feel nauseous in the best way possible. Steve spins you around, so you were facing each other, he leans in towards your ear.

“Do you want another drink?” He shouts over the music. You quickly nod.

“Surprise me” you shout back. He pushes past people leaving you to dance by your self, your hands in the air.

Robin envied how carefree you were in this moment, whilst her anxieties were eating away at her insides. She watched how you moved your hips, lost in the moment. She knew she couldn’t, but she watched how your boobs bounced in the little black dress.

You had just spotted robin, and you stumble passed everyone.

“Where have you been?” You rest your hand on her arm.

“Outside, it’s too hot in here” she tells you.

“Maybe because you’re wearing so many layers?” You tug at her sweater, lifting up the hem. “Take it off, come dance with me, Steve is a terrible dancer” she pulls it over her head, placing it on the back of an armchair,running her fingers through her hair smoothing her wavy hair. You reach over, unbuttoning the top few buttons, your fingers brushing against her soft skin. Her cheeks were pink and you could feel the head radiating off of her. “Better?” She nods and you take her hands, pulling her back over to where you previously were. Robin gives your hand a little squeeze.

“I love this song!” She shouts, some prince song playing that you didn’t know that well, but you sway your hips. You wave Steve over, with your drink.

“Where have you been, Buckley?” Steve shouts. He looks down at your hands, that we’re still intertwined. “I thought we were dance partners” you quickly finish your drink, passing him the cup.

“She’s a better dancer though stevie” you joke, looking back at robin giving her a big smile, you take Steve’s drink giving it to her.

“I get it” he rolls his eyes. “Robins replaced me, I know when I’m no longer welcome” you watch a small smile tugging at her lips and Steve walks off, probably to get another drink. You watch as she does the same, gulping down whatever Steve was drinking, putting the cup on the coffee tree.

Robins heart was racing, as you danced for what felt like hours, sharing each others body heat.

“So, are you and Steve a thing again?” Robin knew the alcohol talking, because normally she would play it off as not caring, but she really did care, maybe a little too much. “Because I don’t think you’re a good match… in a relationship” you knew it was the truth, but you wanted to know her reasoning behind it.

“What do you mean?” You stop dancing, trying to figure out the expression on her face, you had never seen it.

“You deserve better, Steve is- great but…” you couldn’t hear the rese over the music.

“I can’t hear you”

“What?” You sigh, pulling her out onto the patio, the music still loud, but you could almost hear yourself think out here.

“I couldn’t hear you, all I heard was Steve is great but that's it” you laugh. She shrugs, kicking a plastic cup out the way

“I just think you need someone different” she trails off. Robin was right, you were too similar but you were curious why she thought this, maybe she knew someone?

“Do you know someone better?”

“Actually- actually I do, you know them, she- fuck HE’S cool?” She questions her self, her words slurring. You tried not to focus on her world choice too much, after all this might be the drunkest Robin Buckley has ever been in her life. She lets out a long sigh, blowing her hair out of her face. You knew Robin liked girls, she cried when she told you and you didn’t know what to do other than hug her. You couldn’t find the words to tell her you did also. You never wanted it to come across as you were trying to invalidate her.

“Maybe I should go talk to, him” you put extra emphasis on him.

“He’s not here” her words were sharp, which took you back.

“No?” You could see her getting more and more frustrated at the whole situation.

“No, but you could have any guy in there y/n, just look at you and” she motions to your body. “Fuck” she laughs, but nothing was funny. She runs her face. “I’m- im going to go”

“Where?” You grab her forearm.

“Home” Robin pulls away from your grip but you follow her.

“Robin, wait” you push past a group of girls trying to keep up, it didn’t help the flashing lights were making it hard to see and your head spin. You run and grab her sweater before she could, in an attempt to stop her.

“Don’t go!” You shout

“Why? Go to Steve you were both having a great time without me” Robin shouts rolling her eyes.

“Are you jealous right now? Seriously?” she doesn’t bother trying to take her sweater off of you, she just stands quiet. “You’re my best friend too!” You shout over the music. “I love you both!” You continue

“That’s the problem” she snaps. You didn’t get it, she was also best friends with Steve, so he couldn’t be the problem?

“Is it me?” You were scared of the answer.

“Yes” as soon as she blurted it out she covered her mouth and your tears were stinging your eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit. You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep it together. God you were so stupid. She didn’t even like you as a friend, she was just putting up with you because you were with Steve and now you had broken up? She didn’t want you around anymore?

“Y/n” she reaches for you.

“Go fuck your self” you forcefully shove her sweater into her and run to the bathroom, trying your very hardest not to breakdown crying infront if everyone, you didn’t need to add anymore humiliation to the situation because then you could never show your face in Hawkins. You slam the door behind you, choking out a sob. You felt stupid, not even five minutes ago you thought maybe she would tell you she liked you but it was the complete opposite. Abrupt banging at the doors snaps you from your thoughts.

“Yo, hurry up!”

“Fuck off” you didn’t know who was behind the other side of the door and you didn’t care to find out. You tried your hardest to calm your self down, you’re entire body shaking. You needed to find Steve. You impatiently wait for the guy to leave before opening the door. The room was spinning and you couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Have you seen Steve?” you ask anyone you could find but they all motioned in vague directions, or just giving you a shrug backing away. You catch your reflection in the hallway, cringing, your make up smeared and mascara running down your cheeks. You take a deep breath before opening the bedroom doors. “Steve” your voice cracks, empty. You try the next one, hoping there wouldn’t be anyone making out or worse. “Please be Steve” you whisper, opening it. There he was in all his glory sitting on the bed, some girl hugging him.

“Y/n” the girl pulls away and faces you. Robin, the same as your mascara smudged under her eyes. “What’s going on with you two tonight?” Steve asks. You couldn’t find your voice all of a sudden, you opened your mouth to speek but nothing came out. He gets up to leave. “You guys need to figure this out” he points between you two. Steve kisses your temple.

“Go easy on her” he whispers. He shuts the door, muffiling the music.

Robin watched as your chest rose and fell, stood back against the door, looking everywhere around the room but at her.

“I-I didn’t mean it” her voice was raspier than usual. “I just- fuck y/n you’re making this so hard”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you cry out.

“You! Y/n I’m taking about you. About you and Steve how I will never be him!” you stood in disbelief, confused.

“I literally don’t understand!”

“I’m jealous of Steve!” She whispers, ashamed and stepping closer to you, dropping her head. “I want to be the one dancing with you”

“I wanted you to dance with us” you stress.

“Y/n how drunk are you right now?” She shouts tugging at her hair. “Listen. To. Me. I. Like. You” you didn’t know what to say. “I want to dance with you like you dance with Steve, I want to touch your body like he gets to. I want to kiss you infront if everyone. I want to hold you close. Fuck y/n I want you! But you don’t like girls” She wept, her tears spilling down her pink freckled cheeks.

“Robin are you kidding?” You couldn’t hide your excitement. “I like girls! I love girls! I love boobies!” You professed.

“So it’s me you don’t like” it was Robins to be turn to be confused, using her sleeve to catch her tears. You both could bet everything you owned that Steve was listening to the both of you behind the door, getting frustrated at how hard this conversation was to listen to.

“Robin” you wipe your own eyes. “You’re the girl I like!”

“I am”

“No I’m lying to you” you say sarcastically. “Of course you are!” The door swings open, revealing none other than Steve Harrington.

“Finally! Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep it a secret from the both of you. My life just got a hell of a lot easier” Steve wraps his arms around both of your shoulders putting you into a joint hug.

“Steve” robin groans. “You’re ruining the moment”

“Sorry. I’m just so happy my friends are inlove”

“Steve!” You shout.

“Y/n!” He shouts back and you push him off you both.

“Please. Leave. Unless you have a thing for girls on girls” Steve’s cheeks turn pink, at robins accusation “Get out of here pervert” robin jokes shoving him out the room.

“I just feel a little left out” he shouts, as you shut the door in his face

“Come here” robin motions and wipes away your makeup with her thumb. “So when can I take you out on a date?”

“Not tomorrow I just know I’m going to be too hung over”

“The day after then?”

“That could work”

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x y/n #robin Buckley angst

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2022 Day 16: Sparks

A follow up to Peace was requested by a lot of people so here it is, the scene where supercorp kiss after Kara thinks they've been dating for a month while Lena thinks they're just friends.

ao3 fic link. series link.

“Come on, Lena. Please, for me?”

“No,” Lena laughs, resisting the tug of Kara’s hand and the puppy dog eyes sent her way. “What are you doing?”

“Come on,” Kara grins, and Lena gives in, letting herself be pulled up.

Kara doesn’t drop her hand, but instead grabs Lena’s other one and then they’re dancing, or at least Kara is, Lena just letting herself be jostled by Kara’s moving arms.

Except she’s terrible at dancing, and she does mean herself, not Kara. Kara has rhythm as she sways her hips, rhythm as she bounces on her feet, coaxing Lena into joining her.

“See, this is fun, isn’t it?” Kara grins, and Lena must admit it is, only because Kara looks so happy and carefree and Lena hasn’t felt this relaxed in a while.

She’s also not going to complain about Kara’s hands in hers, or the way they keep stumbling into each other, the warm press of Kara’s body there a moment, then gone the next.

Kara spins her out and then pulls her back in again and this is even better. Next time Kara wants to dance, despite the fact that Lena probably looks ridiculous as she tries to stay in time with the music, she’s definitely going to say yes.

Kara’s suddenly a lot closer and Lena’s breath catches. It’s unfair how good her best friend looks right now, even just in grey sweat pants and a white t-shirt, she looks amazing. It helps that the shirt is slightly too tight and Kara’s arms are on full display.

Lena’s eyes dart down, just for a moment, because she’s weak and happy and Kara’s lips look so soft.

She allows herself just that, and then she’s giggling again as Kara twirls her and if this is what she gets with Kara, if this is what her life with Kara will be, having fun with her best friend on a normal Thursday evening, then Lena will take it.

But then suddenly it’s not just a normal Thursday evening, because the next time Kara pulls her close, she stops, and that parts not out of the ordinary, she’s used to Kara staring at her from time to time, but this is different, because instead of looking away like she usually would, Kara leans forward and kisses her.

The touch is electric, that’s how Lena would describe it. It’s a shock to her system, a jolt, a total surprise that has Lena wanting more.

There’s that cliché in movies where they say sparks fly? That’s exactly what this feels like.

This is what Lena always imagined a kiss from Kara would feel like.

“You looked surprised,” is the first thing Kara says when she pulls away. “Sorry, I should’ve asked, it’s just that we’ve been dating for nearly a month and I saw you looking at my lips and I thought you wanted to too. Gosh, I didn’t even ask, do you like kissing? Do you want to kiss people? Is that something you like to do in a relationship?”

Lena is so confused about so many things right now.

“I definitely like kissing, and I want to kiss you, specifically, but we’re dating?”

Kara pauses, frowns. “Aren’t we?”

 “What made you think we’re dating?”

“I…everything?”

“Everything?”

“We’ve been out on multiple dates. The first one was when I asked you to have dinner with me at the Italian place, remember?”

How could Lena forget that night, she’d spent the whole time dying because Kara had brought her flowers and looked incredible in a suit and then insisted on paying for dinner and all Lena could think about was how she’d wanted it to be a date.

But was it actually a date??

“We spend all out free time together, we sleep together most nights. I mean, I literally called you my girlfriend the other day and you said nothing.” Kara bites her lip, looking distressed. “Was I wrong?”

“I…didn’t you just mean like a friend who is a girl?”

Kara looks close to tears now, and Lena realises she’s said the wrong thing.

“Come here,” Lena says, but she doesn’t wait for Kara to respond, just reaches out and pulls her into a hug. Kara is frozen for a moment, but then she easily relaxes into Lena’s arms. It allows Lena a moment to think, to run her mind over everything Kara has just said, and realise what an absolute idiot she’s been.

It’s a long time before they pull apart, and Lena can see an apology on Kara’s lips, but Lena talks before she can.

“I didn’t realise that you’d asked me out on a date, I didn’t realise that that’s something you wanted, all this time I thought your feelings for me were strictly platonic. I think I missed it because I never imagined you might feel the same for me in return.” Kara opens her mouth but Lena holds up her hand. “Let me finish, please?”

Kara nods so Lena continues. “I want to make it clear right now, that I like you, that I very much want to kiss you, and if I’d realised sooner that we were dating, I would’ve definitely kissed you already.” Lena reaches out, tucks a loose strand of hair behind Kara’s ear, feels entirely giddy when Kara leans into the touch. “I’m sorry I missed it, it seems so obvious now.”

“For the record,” Kara smiles. “If it wasn’t obvious, I like you too.”

“I think we’ve established that sometimes I need things to be spelled out to me.”

Kara’s grinning now, and so is Lena. And while she feels a little dumb, she feels a lot happy.

“In that case, I very much want to kiss you again,” Kara says.

Just hearing Kara says those words, makes Lena want to cry. A lot about this evening makes Lena want to cry.

Lena’s the one that leans forward this time, her mouth pressing gently against Kara’s.

And then Kara’s mouth parts beneath hers and Lena knows she’s not going to stop kissing her anytime soon.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2022

[deadbeatbirdmom]

Between stalking Blake in a freakin' cloak on that ship back home, the flakey robot fight-ditching in V2, that sorta obsessive-sounding 'run but I'll follow' character tune and some of his clownery around the Belladonna household, I really dunno about the pedestal that one reblog puts Sun on. Sure, he *eventually* takes 'no' as an unspoken answer better than Adam, but talk about low bars. I also think the Bees would've had to get fairly deep in for a breakup to gut Yang quite so hard as they were joshing about. I mean, she seemed happier to see Blake having some fun than anything once he cut in at the dance.

Disclaimer: I like Sun and think he's generally a decent guy, but he's not one of my fav characters. I don't feel terribly qualified to talk about him because while I've seen all there is of him in RWBY (as in the main show, not including the novel he's in), he wasn't where my focus was.

Like you mention, Sun has done some dubious things that I don't agree with. Overall it's a good thing he did follow Blake and refused to leave, considering she might've been captured and dragged to Adam without him. Sun also eventually got an important message through to Blake, about letting her friends make their own choices, and not to take herself away from them after they get hurt trying to help her.

I can't speak for the OP of this post I reblogged, but I don't think it puts Sun on a pedestal as such. I think it just compares how he'd take rejection to how Yang would, and that he'd take it better isn't because he's better than she is. It's because she has trauma he doesn't, as far as we know.

Come to think of it I don't think we know much about Sun's background. Does he come from a happy family? Is he so carefree because he's an orphan and has no memory of his family, so doesn't know what he's missing?

Anyway, I think the true test of how Sun takes rejection will be when he sees Blake and Yang together, and I think chances are he'll be fine with it, to the extent that he'll be happy for them.

If the Bees broke up I do think it'd hit Yang hard. She'd most likely try to hide it, but she would be deeply hurt. I don't think Volume 2 Yang's feelings for Blake are any comparison to Volume 9 Yang's, as I'm pretty sure they've got deeper over time, although I do see where you're coming from. Yang would want Blake to be happy no matter what, and if that meant seeming happy for Blake being with someone else, so be it. She'd smile (and most likely cry on the inside and in private).

To be clear, I don't think the Bees will break up. I think they're great together. And I'd hope CRWBY wouldn't make Bumbleby canon only to tear them apart later. That seems too cruel to me.

#RWBY Sun Wukong #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Bumbleby #Ask #gorkhandsmcschmuck #apologies if said OP sees this and would rather I'd just tagged him #I honestly wasn't sure whether or not to do so

[radiant-reid]

Hi cate it’s one in the morning and I can’t get this off my mind Garcia taking Reid to a concert he was hesitant to go to at first because he usually doesn’t enjoy places like those but then when he hears readers start just like BELTING with amazing vocals and I mean like vocal’s he low key catches a quick interest in her…maybe could this be a one shot/blurb?? 🤍

yes !! i am so into Noah Kahan at the moment that it had to be him

"Come on, you've got to come with me." Penelope groans, standing in front of Spencer's desk.

"I've been to, like, five concerts in my life." He protests, trying to find any way to stay home. "And I don't know the songs. There's got to be someone else you can take."

She shakes her head. "Nope, everyone has plans. Come on, we go to conventions together. This isn't much different."

He scoffs. "The germs in a situation like a pit are astounding." He reminds her. "Not to mention what listening to loud music does to the ear."

"You're coming." She says decisively. "And you're going to love it/ We can even get matching merch."

Spencer knows there's no point in arguing with her. He couldn't win, and he wouldn't want to disappoint her. Plus, what's really the worst that can happen? He'll be there for a few hours, makes sure Penelope gets home safe, and be in bed with a book by 11.

"Okay, fine, let's go." He agrees, getting up and grabbing his bag.

He underestimated how long it would take for her to get ready, and how many people would be there, and honestly, he's feeling slightly nervous about being there.

"You're going to love it," Penelope assures him, squeezing his hands reassuringly before going back to talking about her favorite songs.

Spencer can appreciate the harmonies of the singer and how the chords are structured. It's not as bad as he thought. Halloween hits home, and he thinks about calling Ethan.

Penelope nudges his arm at some point, nodding to the girl standing next to them, you. Spencer's already noticed. He's got a sixth sense for people watching him, born out of his years of FBI training.

"She's cute," Penelope tells him.

He smiles slightly just watching you dance so carefreely. "I know."

"Well, talk to her." She urges. "She probably thinks we're together." He understands how you, or anyone, would come to that assumption.

He's about to before the Stick Season gets to its first chorus and you're belting out the lyrics by heart. "And I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks and I Saw your mom she forgot that I existed and It's half my fault, but I just like to play the victim I'll drink alcohol 'til my friends come home for Christmas"

He leans down to talk to you in for his knight in shining armor moment when you almost drop your phone, too focused on singing and screaming. "Would you like me to hold it? I can film much steadier."

"Please." You say, eagerly handing your phone over. He's tall, too, incredibly helpful in getting good footage.

He spends most of the time looking at you, and he finds even more courage to talk to you when there's an interlude between songs. "I'm Spencer." He introduces himself.

"Y/n." You do the same thing. "And thank you. Your height is a great advantage." He chuckles at that. "Are you a fan, too? Just the silent type?"

He shakes his head. "Maybe after tonight. I really just came here for my friend." He emphasizes the last word, making sure you understand the relationship.

You wave at Penelope, who's grinning proudly at Spencer's bravery. "Cool. Is there any way I can bribe you to film the rest of this for me?" You ask slyly.

"I'll do it regardless." He tells you nobly, not wanting you to feel pressured into anything.

"You can have my number anyway." You offer, reaching out to hold his arm, the pen that was in your bag hovering over it. "If you want."

"Please." He nods, letting you write it on your skin without reservation.

When you pull away, it hits him that it's your number, not 822-993-167, and he can use it to call you with it.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid blurb