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minarisplaything · 4 months

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Going Away Present ft. Jennie Kim

pairing: Blackpink Jennie Kim x M!Reader/M!OC rating: Explicit wordcount: 3.8k summary: Being the younger sibling of a member of Blackpink meant you were constantly surrounded by temptation. When the time for you to go away to college is coming up, one member decides to give you a special gift. disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. all characters portrayed are 18+

It was just another day when you were walking up the front steps of your parents' house, grocery bags in hand. You couldn't help but wonder why you had been sent to get something so simple. Then again, Jisoo was in town, which meant your parents probably wanted to have some private time to catch up with her. Needless to say, being the member of a popular South Korean girl band and global ambassador for multiple brands required a lot of time away from home.

Pushing the front door open with your foot, you stumbled through the doorway, trying to see past the brown bags in your arms, “A little help—?"

"SURPRISE!!!"

A loud roar interrupted you as you stepped a foot into the house. You don't know what your reaction looked like, but judging from your slack jaw, it had to be some mixture of fear and bewilderment.

"W-What's going on?" you stammered, the bags practically falling out of your hands.

"We planned a surprise going-away party!" your mum explained as she walked towards you.

The smile on her face showed that she was clearly proud to have accomplished her goal. Your shocked expression slowly settled into a small smile and look of appreciation. Leave it to her to go above and beyond with something like this.

“Mum, I don’t leave for university for another month,” you said, handing the bags over to her.

“Yes, well, your sister is only here for two weeks then she has to leave on the international tour. So we decided to do it now. Go on, enjoy yourself, sweetie."

Your smile faltered somewhat. Ah, that explained it better. You would be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to going to university to make a fresh start for yourself out of your sister's shadow. You looked around the room, briefly noting the guests. It was the usual crowd; relatives, some schoolmates, longtime neighbors, and sure enough, your sister, Jisoo, and the other members of Blackpink.

You bit the bottom of your lip as you looked at them. Damn, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa looked amazing. No, you chastised yourself, Keep it together. Pushing your inappropriate thoughts aside, you turned back to the crowd of gathered people.

"Uh, thanks a lot for coming, guys. I’m sure there's plenty of food and drink, so let's enjoy ourselves."

Luckily, you were spared standing in an awkward silence as someone took the cue to start the music, and the party began. Now you say party, but that was being a bit generous. In reality, you spent most of the afternoon going around to various groups of people, talking and thanking them for coming. The questions were mostly the same: What university will you be going to? What will you be majoring in? How far is it? Have you thought about life after university and so on. It was exhausting, really.

Eventually, you worked your way to the backyard where the members of Blackpink stood gathered. Oddly enough, you had known them almost better than you knew anyone else at the party. In that sense, you couldn't help but be relieved when you finally made it to them.

"He's so grown up!" Chaeyoung squealed as you walked over. "I remember when he was eye level with me."

An embarrassed grin crossed your features as you stopped in front of them. Seeing them so often going through teenage years was never easy and often led to you excusing yourself to your room. At least now you could control yourself...mostly. Chaeyoung, or Rosie, was right though. Where you had once been eye-level and even shorter than her, you now towered over her.

“Ah, I never thought I’d see this day,” Jisoo said dramatically, moving over and wrapping an arm around you. “I was sure he’d drop out of school or something before university.”

The girls laughed as you shrugged her off, “Don't let mom and dad hear you saying that,” you teased looking over at her. "Besides, we all know I'm the brains in the family."

“Does that make me the talented one?”

The others laughed at the display of sibling bantering, and you couldn't help but join in. At moments like this, it was easy to forget just how famous she actually was.

Wearing a slight grin of her own, Jennie Kim moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your neck and standing to the side, “Be nice, Jisoo-unnie, it’s a special day for him,” she said before leaning up to give you a kiss on the cheek. You could immediately feel your face start to redden and hoped the fading sunlight in the yard was enough to mask it. “Plus we have a special way to send you off later.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. Jennie had always been your favorite among your sister’s friends, something you were sure they secretly knew but didn’t want to embarrass you by pointing out. The idea of a special send-off from her had already sent your mind down an optimistic path. Something Jennie seemed to pick up on as her grin grew.

“Get your mind out of the gutter! It's just a nice club downtown. Especially since you’re old enough to drink now.”

Not exactly the special gift your dirty mind had hoped for but you'd take it. Besides, there were people around the country who would kill to be in your position right now.

“Sounds perfect. This is a nice party and all but there's only so much excitement a going-away party thrown by your parents can have.”

“Don't worry, you’ll have plenty of excitement later,” Jennie winked at you, causing Jisoo to hit her playfully.

“Yah! Stop giving my baby brother the wrong idea!” Jisoo protested.

“Who said it's the wrong idea," Lisa chimed in, a mischievous look on her face, "We might find him a nice girl for the night."

"I'm not listening to this," your sister comically stuck her fingers in her ear.

A round of laughter broke out as Jisoo comically covered her ears. Undeterred, you looked around the yard before returning to the girls, "So when are you guys taking me out for this magical night?”

“Be ready by eleven. Lines aren't exactly an issue for us,” Jennie spoke up first.

You nodded, of course. Benefits of being famous and all.

“Sounds good. You’ll see us all then.”

You hesitated for a moment before leaning down to place a quick peck on Jennie's cheek. This, of course, caused teasing ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ from the group. You walked away without looking back, but over your shoulder, you could hear Lisa talking as her gaze stared you down.

“He hasn’t even gone off on his own yet, and he’s making man moves.”

The rest of the party went as it had before your run-in with your sister and friends, which was to say boring and dull. Not that it was any fault of their own. It was hard to focus on casual conversation when your mind was already thinking ahead to going out to a club with Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa. And Jisoo as well, you supposed. Eventually, your parents were seeing everyone out, and you were able to slip away to get prepared for the night. Despite not being active in the nightlife scene, you felt compelled to look your best tonight.

It turned out Jennie hadn't been lying. After picking you up, you took a taxi to some club in the heart of the nightlife district. Even with yourself looking terribly out of place, you walked right in and were guided to a table in the VIP section. It was surreal, really. And while you recognized that for many, simply a night at the club with Blackpink would be a dream, your mind couldn't help but wander back to Jennie's words and hope for more.

After a few shots and celebratory toasts, the party was well and truly underway. You could feel yourself starting to loosen up, and whatever nerves you might've had beforehand began to fade away. Time seemed to flow at its own pace, and you were a passenger to its whims.

“I still can’t believe you guys just get VIP tables like this,” you leaned over to say to Jennie, who sat to your right.

“It’s one of the perks of the job,” she replied with a smile before sipping her current drink. “Do you want another?” she pointed to the bottle; you shrugged and held your glass out.

“Jennie! I’m going to go use the bathroom, Chaeyoung is coming with me,” Jisoo shouted over to you.

Her bandmate gave an affirmative response, leaving you alone with Jennie and Lisa. Your thoughts began to wander once again, but before you could work up the courage to act on any of them, you heard a voice calling out to you.

"Do you dance?"

It was Lisa, leaning over the couch towards Jennie and you.

Feeling your nerves suddenly come back, you stammered, “Well uh, not too often I can’t really say—"

Jennie's laughter filled your ear, "Just come on!"

She placed her drink down and took one of your hands while Lisa grinned and took the other. Together they guided you from your booth to an area to dance. Which, while not as crowded as the main floor, was still packed. Jennie easily found you a nook to slide into. She turned around, looking up at you as she pressed her body close to yours and began moving to the electronic beat without a moment's hesitation. Similarly, you could feel Lisa pressing against you from behind, sandwiching you between the two women.

If this was your gift, you could die a happy person.

"Take a deep breath," Jennie says soothingly, her hands rising above her head as she moves effortlessly to the music. Was is that obvious? You try to follow suit, but your body remains rigid despite your best efforts to loosen up. She turns towards you, pressing her backside against your crotch, and you feel waves of pleasure course through your veins.

Without warning, she takes your hands and places them on her hips, leaving them there as if daring you to move them. As you stand frozen in shock, wondering if this is an invitation or not, Lisa wraps her arms around you from behind. Her fingers trace intricate patterns against your skin as she moves to the music.

"Oh fuck..." you muttered, hoping the music masked your comment from their ears.

The singer continued her moves, even going as far to ratchet it up as she slid down using your body as if it were a stripper pole. As a result it also caused your hands to move from her hips to where her breasts were. Unable to help yourself your fingers flexed, feeling the mounds concealed by her tight top. As if spurred on by your actions her ass rotated, rubbing directly into your crotch over and over again.

“Noona...Jennie...” you tried to warn but your words were lost in the stereo music as she continued to dance.

You could feel yourself beginning to grow hard but could do nothing to stop her as she moved to the song. Every now and then her arms would wrap around my neck, pulling you down ever so closely only to release you and resume grinding against you in various ways. To add on to that you could feel Lisa's body pressed firmly against mine from behind. Whether either girl sensed or felt what was stirring they didn't let it stop them.

“Ssh, enjoy yourself,” Jennie cooed over the music.

And you were. Very much so in fact.

After all, who wouldn’t be in this position? Jennie Kim was rubbing her fit ass against your crotch as she danced to the music to the point where it felt like she was giving you a private lap dance. Meanwhile, Lisa was letting her hands roam over your body as if she was worshiping your form. No one in their right mind would want this to end.

It was only when Lisa moved from around you and began to dance with Jennie in front of you that you finally felt like you were in danger of doing something embarrassing. As intoxicating as the sight was, it wasn’t worth ejaculating inside your pants in front of them. Mustering what willpower you had, you forced yourself to take a step back, whispering a brief excuse.

“Sorry, ladies, I need to take care of something.”

Before they could turn around to question you on the matter, you made my way through the crowd and made a beeline for the restroom; oblivious to the knowing looks and devilish smiles that the two women exchanged.

“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you stumbled into a bathroom stall.

You braced yourself against the sides, taking deep breaths as you tried to compose yourself. Which was easier said than done when your cock was painfully hard. As tempting as it was to jerk off and relieve yourself, there was no way you were doing that in a public stall. That seemed like you’d be asking for some kind of infection.

No, no. You just need to take a few minutes, regain your composure, and then you’d go out there and pick up where you left off.

“They were just teasing me. No way that was serious…” you muttered to yourself. “But still…”

What if they weren’t just teasing? What if this was your chance to make a move? If their dance moves were any indication they were feeling it just as much as you were. And it was your birthday after all. Stranger things had happened before, right? Probably.

Thinking about your plan, of the potential of success, didn’t exactly help quell your excitement but at least you weren’t sporting an aching bulge ready to tear through your pants. You left the stall, went to the sink and splashed some water on your face. With a look in the mirror you set your determination and made your way back to the dance floor.

When you didn’t spot the girls you made your way back to the VIP area where you saw Jennie sipping on her drink and looking at her phone.

“Hey,” you called out.

“There you are,” her eyes lit up as she looked up at you.

“Decided to take a break?”

“Something like that.”

“What happened to Lisa? The others?” you asked.

Jennie leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. The tight dress she wore rode up her thighs, giving you a delicious sight, “Oh, she had something to take care of. I think your sister and Rosie are off dancing the night away.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to remember your prior pep talk, “I guess it’s just the two of us.”

Jennie, meanwhile, wasn’t lacking confidence at all. She practically oozed it as she leaned forward, resting her elbow on one of her knees and placing her chin in her hand. She looked as though she could devour you with a single word and honestly, you would let her.

“It seems that way,” she cooed, “I was actually thinking of getting out of here…”

Your eyes went wide but you hoped you continued your composure otherwise, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jennie raised her hand to her mouth in what you guessed was a faux yawn, “I’m feeling exhausted. I guess I can’t party the same way I used to.”

This was it. Your chance.

“I can take you home if you want.”

A wicked grin crossed her features.

“Jisoo always said you were well-mannered. I’ll text the girls and tell them we’re heading out.”

LATER THAT NIGHT…

Your back crashed against Jennie’s door and her lips were immediately on yours.

From the moment you had entered the cab to get back to her place it had felt like a fever dream. Her hand had teasingly run along your thigh the whole ride and at one point her lips had found their way to your neck.

Once you had arrived and stumbled into her apartment, she was all over you. No more suggestive touches with hidden meanings, no more coy flirtations. Her lips were on yours while her hands grabbed at your body. It was exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. Despite not drinking more than that initial shot, your head was spinning. This was happening. It was somewhat fortunate that you didn’t have time to overthink it at all.

Jennie’s hands gripped at your shirt, quickly undoing the buttons and pushing it over your shoulders. Next her hands moved to your belt buckle, her teeth biting at your bottom lip as she looked up at you with a sex-crazed gaze.

“I didn’t give you a gift at your party did I?” she asked.

“I-I don’t think so,” you moaned, feeling her hand slip into your pants to grip your cock.

“Then consider my pussy your graduation gift,” Jennie said, “Or a going away present. Whichever you want to call it.”

Her words made your head spin to the point all you could do was nod dumbly. Jennie had a wicked smile on her features as she reached down, pulling your pants and boxers away to expose your aching erection. An erection that you’d been dealing with practically since the club.

“I was wondering what it looked like,” Jennie cooed. “You know, Lisa and I were taking bets on just how big it was.”

“You were?” the thought caused your cock to jump in excitement.

“Mhmm.” Jennie bit her bottom lip as she reached down, her fingers curling around your shaft. “She’s going to be jealous that I got to you first you know. You’d split her in half with this.”

The combination of Jennie stroking your cock and the image of plowing into Lisa was enough to make you more than ready to receive your gift. Something Jennie must have realized as well as you heard her let out a giggle. She rose to her feet and turned, briefly giving you a view of her ass in the tight dress that hugged her fit body.

The view became even greater when she bent over, reached under her dress and slowly pulled her panties down her thighs. She looked over her shoulder, watching your face as she stepped out of them. Briefly you wondered what it’d be to get a lap dance from her. An idea to hope for in the future maybe.

“You can take these with you when you leave,” Jennie winked.

She placed the panties on top of the desk before looking back at you. She hitched up her red dress, revealing her bare ass and exposed pussy to you. If it weren’t for the fact that all the blood had already left your head and gone to your cock, you might’ve fainted on the spot.

“Fuck…”

“Come on then. Come enjoy your gift,” she said. She wiggled her ass as she invited you to close the distance in the hallway and take her.

“Do I need a condom?” you fumbled.

Jennie laughed and shook her head, her hair sticking loosely to her already sweat-covered body, “Don’t worry about that.”

She didn’t have to say it twice. The thought left your mind and you closed the distance between her and yourself. One hand took hold of your cock, lining herself up at her dripping entrance. You paused for a beat, etching the visual into your memory banks as you finally slipped inside of her. To say you had fantasized about your sister's bandmates before would be an understatement. In that sense, this was a dream come true. But even those dreams couldn't compare to the real feeling of Jennie's tight walls squeezing around your cock.

"Fuck, that's it, baby," Jennie moaned, bracing herself with one hand against the wall.

Slowly you buried inch after inch inside of the pop star until your hips were flush against Jennie's ass. As much as you wanted to savor the moment, the desire to fuck your long-time crush was far more overwhelming. Jennie was clearly ready for you to start given the way she ground her ass against you, imploring you to start thrusting immediately. You obliged her, slipping your cock out before filling her to the hilt once again and again.

"Fucking hell," you grunted.

"That's it. Fuck me, Baby" Jennie urged, moans falling from her plump lips.

As you gained a rhythm she began to meet your thrusts with her own movements. Your hands moved to her waist, squeezing gripping her tight as you fucked her. It was hard enough to make sure that there would be marks there tomorrow morning but not enough to cause any discomfort. In fact, judging from the moans of encouragement Jennie let out, she didn't seem to have any complaints.

"Harder," she gasped.

"Yes ma'am."

Every time you entered her from behind it resulted in her perfect ass smacking against you, filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against each other. Jennie clawed against the wall as you pistoned your cock inside of her faster and faster, drawing out both of your pleasure. And it was good. Incredible even. Each thrust inside of Jennie was better than the last, far better than anything your imagination could have come up with.

It was safe to say that the continued feeling of her pussy tightening around your cock far surpassed late nights with your own hand. The only problem was that you knew that it wouldn't last forever. That sooner rather than later you'd be emptying your balls inside of Jennie Kim. Or maybe she'd let you finish on her face.

"Fuck!" you gasped, cock twitching at the thought.

"Does it feel good, baby?" Jennie cast a glance over her shoulder. Her dark hair was sticking to her forehead, her cheeks flushed red, "You don't have to hold back for me. Let yourself go."

"Jennie-- " you warned, desperately.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Jennie's pussy, the desire to fuck her harder, and the looming inevitable release that was growing closer and closer with each thrust.

"I'm--Fuck. I'm going to--" you gasped.

You didn't have time to finish your sentence as Jennie slipped free of your grasp. Before you knew it she was on her knees in front of you, her mouth open and tongue sticking out as she stroked your cock furiously. One look at that sight and it was well and truly over. Your balls tightened, your pent up release spewing all over the pop idol's face. Your cock twitched in her grasp, ropes of your seed splattering her features. You had seen Jennie a lot over the years, but you had never witnessed her like this.

"Jesus christ..."

When it was all said and done you were exhausted and utterly spent. As your cock finally began to soften, Jennie ran a manicured finger over her face, scooping up a wad of your cum and sucking it clean off her fingers. When she looked up at you she seemed as satisfied as you felt.

"Congratulations again on graduating," Jennie said, a wicked smile on his lips. "I can't wait to see you when you come back for break."

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

#jennie kim smut #blackpink smut #blackpink imagines #male reader #kpop smut #girl group smut #original character #jennie x male reader #blackpink x reader

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wildestdreamsblog · 1 month

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Latibule Season 2: III

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!

GIF by urmingirl

Masterlist, Latibule 2.II

Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.

“Hyung, is it always like that?”

“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.

“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”

Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.

Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.

“What brought this on?”

“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”

Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.

He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.

“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”

Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.

“Why?”

“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”

“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.

“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.

Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”

To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”

“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”

Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”

Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.

“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.

“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”

The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.

He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.

And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.

One morning, it finally happened. There you were.

Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.

That was you, he was sure.

Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.

“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.

Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”

Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.

“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”

“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.

Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.

“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”

Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.

“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.

—-

Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.

Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.

Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.

Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.

So where was he?!

He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.

He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.

“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.

“At Seoul, hyung-“

“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”

“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”

Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”

Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“

His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.

There was you.

It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.

He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.

Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?

But no.

He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.

It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.

With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”

But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.

“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.

And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.

How did this happen to you?

Was it because of the incident?

Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?

Or did he miss all the glaring signs?

Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”

The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.

You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.

Until it did.

Until you understood each word written in that book.

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?

Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.

You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.

He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts fanfic #bts yandere #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x y/n #mafia bts fic #yandere min yoongi #suga x y/n

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kaicubus · 8 months

Text

Dating Rodrick Heffley

₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊

warnings ✩° : fluff headcanons, cursing.

pairing ✩° : rodrick heffley x fem!reader

authors note ✩° : this is so random but i was on tik tok and i saw an edit of him and i was slapped in the face with this idea!! yiPEEEEE!!!! this is the content i intended on posting when everything settled.

────────────────────────────────────────────

Your parents are convinced that Rodrick is a bad influence on you, and they're right. Being with Rodrick has changed you for the worst and for the better, he’s seen you at your lowest and your highest. But he’s proud of you no matter what happens. In fact, he’s your biggest supporter.

Being over after school every day means you bond really well with his family, and they love you since you seem to have a better influence on him than anything else. I mean, ever since you two started dating, he’s actually been doing his homework and his attendance has significantly improved. That being said, you are definitely a celebrity to Rodrick’s little brother and his friend, Greg and Rowley.

Speaking of the two, you're like their saving grace when it comes to shielding them from the teenage angst that is Rodrick—or in their eyes, the biggest bully they've ever encountered.

There have been many times where Greg tries explaining to you just how bad of a brother Rodrick is, but he never gets farther than a few words before Rodrick slams the door in his face or spills some drink he’s holding onto him.

He’s not that open to listening to your kind of music (if it’s drastically different than the kind of stuff he would listen to) but in secret...in secret he kicks his feet and twirls around imagining you doing the same thing to all the lyrics. He’s a cutie patootie when he’s not being a resentful menace.

Despite that, you spend most of your after school days in Rodrick’s bedroom, garage, or his van just talking about things or listening to him play. He plays a kind of music you never thought you’d listen to before, but have grown to like because not only does he have CDs of all his songs burned into them, but plays other music similar to that genre.

He makes multiple efforts to teach you the guitar with you on his lap and the guitar pressing you both together, but all those times Greg comes in because he wants to try and get on your good side.

If you're not there at band practice, like how you normally are, Rodrick makes all these mistakes and fumbles with playing. Since you're the designated band girlfriend, it’s pretty much a necessity for you to be around him when he practices, otherwise he gets nothing done. Sometimes it’s a problem, but for the most part, you’re like his buff.

Rodrick’s banned from your house because he tried sneaking in your room through your window, but he ended up landing on your mom’s patch of freshly bloomed flowers. When she found out, she wasn’t happy, and even though she tried so hard to excuse his looks, his lack of direction, his rebellious nature, she just couldn’t excuse the sad death of her flower children. So she banned him. Now you guys have to meet in secret or at school or his house, just anywhere not near your house.

He still makes an awkward effort to get your parents to like him, but it never really works out. He either shows up late or shows up with half his clothes missing or drenched in strange fluids because of pranks pulled by his little brother on his way out.

“Mrs. and Mr. L/n—”

“Lime green paint...on my white porch. Can you believe it, honey?”

“Just go, kid.”

“Alright!”

He gives you rides to and from school in his janky ass van, but it’s your only form of transportation so you don’t complain. Everything pretty much happens in that van. Everything.

His form of PDA is wrapping an arm around you loosely and just walking with you, not so much holding your hand. He also really likes just resting his arm on your head or squishing your cheeks together to make funny faces even if it pisses you off sometimes, he thinks it’s cute.

Free band dates!! Meaning that, you get free access to Löded Diper gigs, and the best seats watching your boyfriend and his band mates thrash around. You also get free merch...teehehehehe...

Oddly enough, Rodrick ends up turning soft for you and doing things no one in his family would expect out of him. Like taking you out on drive in dates, or getting you flowers, or just smiling more. Not saying he’s emo or edgy, but he is pretty punkish and reluctant to show any sort of affection. It certainly is off putting to Greg at least.

He asks you to do his eyeliner because you have an unlimited supply of it, and at least he doesn't have to use his mom’s anymore. People can usually tell when you do his eyeliner and when he does it himself; it’s pretty easy to differentiate.

If Rodrick doesn't want to be someplace and is dragged along by his family, the mere mention of you attending the same event makes him suddenly excited to be there. More excited than the planner. He’ll go on tangents about you, and it really doesn’t matter who’s listening. He looks all bad and mean, but as soon as someone talks about you, his face changes completely.

#kaicubus #diary of a wimpy kid #dairy of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick heffley #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x you #headcanons #rodrick rules #rodrick heffley preferences

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ragingbookdragon · 9 months

Text

Ghost wasn’t a man who knew how to do relationships. Even when he was a teenager, the idea of romance was stamped out of him when he watched his father beat his mother. Love between two people didn’t exist to Ghost, and yet, he found himself sweet on the recruit they’d gotten from overseas a few months ago. If there was a person who had Ghost’s demeanor and Soap’s personality, it was her. Quiet when the moment called for it, always watching, always waiting, loud and boisterous when a party needed to be started.

He bonded with her over a love of fine bourbon and good knives, finding himself watching her at every opportunity to see if more of her would be revealed to him. He wasn’t going to ask, of course, a man like Ghost never asked. He observed and acted with careful thought.

Starting a relationship with her, however, proved to be a much more arduous task. Soap had once teased her about her love of having a knight in shining armor and she’d practically floundered in embarrassment while hastily spitting out, “Well, I’ve saved myself since I was eight. Forgive me for wanting someone to take care of me and treat me like a princess.” And that’s when Ghost realized that she wanted it all. She wanted the roses on the first date, to wear that sexy red dress, and go to a fancy restaurant. To have a man be a gentleman and open doors and pull her chair out, but still a little suggestive and whisper blush-inducing words in her ear when no one was looking. She wanted someone who would wake her up with slow kisses, bring her breakfast in bed, take her dancing under the streetlights when it was drizzling in the cool night.

She wanted what Ghost couldn’t offer her.

And yet, he tried to.

He had successfully asked her out with a dozen red roses, managed to get her into a red dress and to a nice restaurant, but the longer he found himself sitting across from her, the more he felt himself becoming uncomfortable with the environment. Too many windows, too many open spaces, too many unfamiliar faces. His nerves were on alert, and it was only until her hand gently rested on his that he looked at her, blinking in shock.

“Simon?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. “Is everything okay tonight?” concern was etched onto her face. “You look like you’re gonna have an anxiety attack.”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “I’m fine…jus’ not used to this is all.”

“Dinner with a pretty woman who can kick ass?” she joked, and he tried for a smile but managed to make a better grimace. “Simon, what’s wrong? Really?”

He let out a breath and closed his eyes, feeling like a fool for being in his thirties and unable to properly explain his emotions like a teenager. “I’m trying to give you a good date, but…I don’t…” she gently encouraged him by brushing her fingers against his hand. “I don’t know how to do this right. And I…I don’t want you to get upset that I’m not doing it how you want.”

“How I want?”

Simon gestured vaguely. “A knight in shining armor…treating you like a princess.” He looked at her. “I…care about you, love, I just don’t know how to do this in a way that you deserve.”

Her eyes shown with a softness, and she nodded her head, then pulled away, flagging down a waiter for the bill. He wasn’t even able to argue when she paid and pulled him up, dragging him to the car where she ordered him to drive her back to base. And all the while, Ghost was cursing himself for being so open that it wasn’t until he was trying to stop his heart from escaping his throat at her quarter door that he realized it.

She opened her room and walked in, stopping when she realized that Ghost didn’t follow her. “Simon?”

“Look, I get it, this isn’t what you want, but I just need to—”

“Will you get in here?” she huffed, pulling him in by his suit jacket. “Jeez, can’t even read the room.”

“I don’t follow?”

“You’re a smart man, but I think you’re spending too much time around Soap.” She smiled and sat on her bed, bright expression lit up at him as she said, “Simon, I don’t need you to be some type of prince for me.” Holding out her hand, she added, “Besides, I think a knight in shining armor is a little far-fetched even for you. You’re more like a death knight. The grim reaper. Death incarnate. Death—”

“I got it,” he scowled and sat down, taking her hand in his. “So…you don’t want the whole suit and tie?”

“You look like you’re genuinely going to have a hernia, Simon. It’s like you stuck a cat in a Halloween costume. Besides, you look the best in a pair of dark jeans and that jacket-hoodie combo you always have going on.” She looked away, embarrassment in her tone as she admitted, “It’s sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?” he teased, and she rolled her eyes, glancing back at him.

“I once watched you break a man’s neck with just the heel of your boot and that’s when I genuinely realized there was something wrong with me, because it was very enticing to see how deadly you were.”

“So, you don’t want to be saved by a prince, you want to be saved by an asshole knight who was assigned to guard the irritating princess against his will? And they bicker at every single moment of their life?”

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “That’s the relationship goals.” She smiled at him. “And then they fall in love, and he realizes that his irritating princess is actually all he’s ever wanted in life.”

“Besides a paycheck.”

“Besides a paycheck.” She gently reached up, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing over his lips as she murmured, “Simon, I don’t need you to be something you’re not. I just need you exactly as you are.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, maybe you can smile at me more than you do everyone else. Maybe not be so grumpy with me.”

He knocked his forehead against hers. “I already do that with you.”

She barked a laugh. “HA! Could’ve fooled me. You grunt at me like you do Soap.”

“That’s because you and Johnny become Dumb and Dumber when you two get together.”

“We do not!”

“And you turn into the three stooges when you get Gaz in on it.”

“That one might actually have grounds, but the jury’s still out on the former.”

“Uh huh.”

She shifted, throwing a leg over his lap, perching herself gently atop his thighs, forearms resting on his shoulders. “Why don’t we get out of the nines, put something comfier on, and get takeout? We can eat Chinese watching the water and talk shit about our childhoods.”

Simon visibly melted beneath her and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Yeah…that sounds good.”

Clearing her throat, she leaned back a little and offered, “You should help me out of this dress though, Lieutenant Riley. See I can’t reach the zipper and I’m defenselessly naked underneath.” She batted her lashes. “I need a man of upstanding honor to make sure that no one can take advantage of me in my nude. A man who wouldn’t feel up all this woman underneath her clothes.”

Ghost smirked, reaching behind her to grab the zipper of her dress. “Is that right?” he started pulling down. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but there are no men with upstanding honor here.”

She sighed dramatically and feigned passing out, a hand pressed against her forehead. “Oh no, whatever shall I do in the hands of this scoundrel? Am I really to give in to the throes of passion and let him ruin me and my honor?”

The zipper touched the top of her rear, and he slipped his hands inside her dress, feeling her warm, bare skin beneath. “Funny, I was thinking that exactly.”

“My bodyguard is going to kick your ass,” she retorted, arching against his palms as they smoothed up her back to securely pull her down by her shoulders. “I’m serious. He’s very protective over what’s his.” She leaned in and murmured, “He once cut a man’s head off for touching me.”

Ghost’s chest rumbled with a growl, and he leaned into her ear. “Well, well, Princess, it’s a shame you can’t tell your bodyguard from a common knave.”

“Oh, I can,” she flirted, tugging at his tie. “It’s just fun to see him get annoyed.” She grinned and curled the tie in her fist, yanking him forward. “Treat me well. Princess’s orders.”

He matched her smirk, already turning her back into the mattress, hands pushing up her dress to her stomach. “As she wishes.”

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two-white-butterflies · 9 months

Text

mastermind | d3

Description: Ms. L/N turns to Mrs. L/N. In which, you ponder where you've been - and where you are now.

Pairing: daniel ricciardo/singer!reader

yournameupdates: There's a lot to unpack with Y/N's new album. The consensus is 7 of the songs written are about her ex-boyfriend: Tom Hiddleston, while Style (ft. Taylor Swift) is about Harry Styles? What could be the reason for the L/N-Hiddleston breakup?

likes by danielricciardo, balana291, and 92,129 others

comments

danielricciardo: More interested to hear about the record-breaking awards she's going to earn after this. - yournameupdates: She's definitely in for the records.

archianana29: I think it's because Hiddleston wants to seem like a bachelor?? Because of his new marvel film. - wannna82: she's not any better, she's profiting off his success. - - oceansdeap0: @wanna82 mind you, she came out of nowhere. - - - wannna82: @oceansdeap0 exacto! publicity stunt?

yournamehiddleston: According to Y/N's newest single: All You Had To Do Was Stay. Tom Hiddleston was the first one who called things off - but after a few months of being alone, he wanted to get back with her. Hence her explaination. All he had to do was stay :(

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f1multistan: Daniel is everywhere these days - watchasay8: Who? - - f1multistan: the f1 racer

hesaysme129: 'YOU WERE ALL I WANTED' it's over I think.

yn1989era: I love how it's her first album and she already has 1000m fans 😭 - katyandyn: Teenage Dream and 1989 are no skip albums

Daniel Ricciardo couldn't believe that he was invited to attend the Grammys. It wasn't like he did anything groundbreaking in the realm of the music industry - but thanks to his amazing management - he was finally there. Normally, he hated award shows because of the cameras that were shoved in his face.

But he couldn't find himself hating this award show.

His favorite singer, Y/N L/N, was going to be in the same table as him. He crossed his fingers - maybe even beside him?

"God, I'm so sorry for being late. There was a mile long traffic back there," you ran to embrace Beyonce, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek as you settled in your seat. Daniel began to realize that he was extremely lucky to be seating where he was.

"Daniel Ricciardo, right?" you smiled at him with those pensive E/C eyes - pulling him back into reality. "Yes, I'm a big fan." he shook your hand, feeling those soft palms press against his.

If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.

"Is it your first time in the Grammys?" you inquired, gently fiddling with the hems of your dress. "Yeah," he scratched the back of his head - oblivious to the cameras that were planted on the both of you. "It's nice to have someone to relate to," you chuckled as it was also your first time. "I heard that award shows could get pretty boring," you consulted in him.

Daniel felt so fucking special in that moment.

You were sitting beside Beyonce, but chose to speak to him. Fuck, does that mean that he was better than Beyonce? Nope, that's blasphemy - but still, it was flattering to think that you'd choose him.

"Tell me when you get bored, there's an ice-cream place just around the corner. We could grab a few bites." he offered - taking a leap of fate. "Sounds like a plan," you smiled and he could feel the crimson blush creep up his cheeks.

✧✧✧

This was something that he'd never forget. He couldn't wait to return to the paddocks and tell Sebastian that he had ice cream with THE Y/N L/N. "Is strawberry your favorite?" he asked, seeing you gobble down the large sized roll. "Yep, I put it in everything." you smiled.

It's been a month since you last tasted strawberry ice cream - you almost forgot how good it tasted. "I'm having a lot of fun, Dan." you complimented - seeing that the tip of his nose was coated with a chocolate syrup. "Darling, there's a little something -" you motioned.

He almost forgot how to move after hearing you call him that.

He flashed you his toothy grinned smile, before wiping the syrup off his nose. "So uhh, I'd like to get your number - so we can hang out another time." you asked, staring deep into his eyes.

Daniel realized that this was the chance of a lifetime. He almost reached for his phone to give you his number - but then he realized. He left his phone at home and he didn't memorize his number.

So instead of giving you his number - he came up with something that he'd regret until the day he died - or until the day he met you again. "No." he answered with confidence. "What?" your eyes narrowed, and he smiled again.

"I'll ask for your number the next time that I see you. To check if fate is really on our side." he explained and you could only smile back.

yournameupdates: Y/N L/N and Richard Madden are confirmed to be dating! Congratulations, she's finally found her Prince Charming.

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theyn_ln: He's certainly a Prince Charming! LOL - yournameupdates: 🥺

hennalova9: THEY LOOK SO PERFECT TOGETHER I'M SO HAPPY THAT SHE MOVED ON 😭

heysistersoul23: THIS IS ENDGAME

danielricciardo: You didn't hear it from me folks, but @theyn_ln is releasing a song tonight. 😉

liked by theyn_ln, maddenrichard and 1,291,192 others

comments

theyn_ln: Well, I rarely break promises.

maddenrichard: 🔥

formulalover91: DANIEL AND Y/N? THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS

theyn_ln: Message in a Bottle MV will be released MIDNIGHT EST. @danielricciardo I always believed in you.

liked by danielricciardo and 1,290,120 likes

comments

danielricciardo: meetup when?

maddenrichard: I'm very proud of you - theyn_ln: thank you mi amor ❤️

yournameupdates: According to some insiders, Richard Madden proposed to Lilly James this March 4, 2017. But where does that leave Y/N? We demand an explaination. @maddenrichard

liked by 429,390

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theyn_ln: I honestly don't know what's happening right now. Please give me space luv ❤️ - yournameupdates: Yes ma'am

thisloveis1989: The way that she saw a future with him and he threw it away. 1 YEAR TOGETHER AND HE THREW IT AWAY?

thismyrealspace9: the album finna hit

theyn_ln: You are not the exception. You will never learn your lesson.

💜 Foolish One and Better Man out MIDNIGHT EST.

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danielricciardo: The songs will be beautiful, but I hope that you're OK. - theyn_ln: Getting there!

taylorynkatyuniverse: FOOLISH ONE HURTS! BETTER MAN HURTS EVEN MORE 😭

icedamericano4: I see the permanent damage you did to me. RICHARD MADDEN YOU ARE PUBLIC ENEMY #1.

Daniel couldn't believe his fucking eyes. It was you.

"Y/N." his eyebrows softened, seeing the familiar posture. "Dan," you turned to look at him - inviting him with a warm embrace. "It's been 5 years since we've last seen each other," you buried your face in his shoulders, inhaling his scent of vanilla and chocolate.

"I thought I lost you for a second," he chuckled, completely forgetting about the drivers that were waiting for him back in the yacht. "Maybe this time you'll finally give me your number," you suggested and a nervous chuckle left his lips. "I'll be honest with you," he began.

"- I totally forgot my phone back at home the first time you asked me." he confessed, pulling his phone out of his pocket and offering it to you. "But I'm not letting you go this time." he smiled.

(2021)

theyn_ln: 7 years overdue, but here she is. My 2nd studio album 'folklore' will be out on September 23. Pre-order is available. You can also order @danielricciardo 's merch while you're at it hehe.

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 2,192,190 others

comments

danielricciardo: The album is 10000/10 - theyn_ln: glad to have ur opinion

carlossainz55: Are we invited to the listening party? - danielricciardo: Already happened buddy, the invitation must've gotten lost in the mail. 😭

maxverstappen1: 💜

theyn_ln: Officially Mrs. L/N-Ricciardo. 💍

liked by danielricciardo and 3,129,102 likes

comments have been restricted.

danielricciardo: Mr. L/N-Ricciardo is officially my job title.

liked by maxverstappen1 and 1,291,092 others

comments have been restricted.

@lpab07 @ietss @shouq @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo instagram au #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #tom hiddleston x reader

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knightsickness · 17 days

Note

Rank dance era characters by how likely they would be the employee of the month at hot topic in 2009

do not have hot topic in my country so i’m going off how competently i think they could work in a mall and my general understanding of hot topic as a tween-teen emo store. worst to best

don’t work there (anymore)

15 daemon - near pathological inability to keep a job which he views as a point of pride

14 aegon - absolutely dogshit employee only applied bc otto thought work might build character in him. fired on his first day for trying to smoke weed out of a vent and setting off the fire alarm. barely even got the chance to be rude to customers or covertly masturbate in the break room

13 alicent - wouldn’t like the store wouldn’t like customer service wouldn’t go for a hot topic job and would leave almost immediately if she had to work there

12 rhaenys and corlys - would be fine i just don’t think they would work there. better things to do

11 rhaenyra - she’s liking posts that say like ‘i don’t have a dream job i do not dream of labour’ with a trust fund she is NOT working at a mall. this high bc if she did work there she’d be completely fine and normal

bad

10 criston - arguably most employed guy in the dance WILL keep a job. do not think he would enjoy hot topic as a brand or the customers would be a better employee if he wasn’t getting into fights with emo teenagers about satanism. he would however fucking love abusing the limited power of a mall cop

9 larys - tied w criston for most employed guy in the dance i don’t know how transferable the skills are between torturer and customer service. guy who gives tweens in pokemon shirts 70s torture porn recommendations they shouldn’t be watching. leery

normal

8 otto - few opportunities for scheming social advancement in this line of work but is organised and a solid employee. gets bullied by the customers for being old

7 harwin laena and laenor - normal. don’t think they’d love the work or anything but i think they could all do customer service w teens they’re nice

6 tyland - guy who managed to be the mvp of a rapidly decaying team and survive the war entirely through middle management of financial minutiae and being sort of smilingly inoffensive i think he’s made for customer service. store manager material

good

5 viserys - everything bad that happened in viserys’ life can be tied back to his not being an oldhead horror fan in 2009 with a million dollar warhammer collection he wants to tell you about i unironically think he would crush it

4 jace baela and rhaena - not much to say. nice and normal teenagers would be a good employee at any store in the mall. jace doing his high valyrian homework on his break. higher than harwin laena laenor bc they could be paid less for the same work as teenagers

employee of the month

3 alys - has worked there since the store was founded fat older goth putting cigarettes out on her inappropriately younger boyfriend and stinking of incense. unfirable she knows where everything is

2 helaena - sweetiepie likes bugs has psychic visions does not act out. beloved cashier regular employee of the month

1 aemond - objectively a worse employee than his sister however the coolest guy any emo teen has ever seen in their life. occasionally shows customers under his eyepatch or explains how if anyone tried to rob the store how he’d kill them with the sword he claims he has hidden

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #alys rivers

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jogetsobsessed · 3 months

Text

Always an Angel - Paul Lahote

Ok, I've been obsessed with the lyric “Always an angel, never a god for a few days now. I don't know why all of a sudden but it's been all I can think about. I know there are a bunch of literal interpretations but I look at it as a version of “always the bridesmaid, never the bride”, always the side character, never the main character. So I hope this comes across how I want it to lol.

Also, the timeline is kinda messed up in this, just live in ignorant bliss and ignore it pls, and thank you!

---------

Always the option, never the priority.

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

Always the lover, never the loved.

Always the fighter, never the fought for.

Always an angel, never a god.

------------

You were used to being sidelined, looked right through.

No matter what you were doing, or who you were with, you were never the main focus.

Growing up boys never spared you a glance, your best friends being the main targets for their glances and flirty remarks. You were never the one asked to dance, always the one asked to hold a friend's purse or bag. If the car was full on the way to get ice cream, you were always the one that was going to be left out. You never learned inside jokes and standing alone at parties, you didn't even know why you went, it's not like anyone would notice if you left anyway.

At night when you would break and confide in the one person you knew truly loved you she would always question why you remained friends with the people that caused you so much pain. And through your blubbering, you would look at her like she was crazy. Explain to your mother that it must have been too long since she was a teenager. Because that's not how it works. Living in a small town the pool of potential friends is small, and having friends that treat you horribly is better than having no friends at all.

You would apologize to her years later, after maturing, and realizing that the remarks you directed towards her were uncalled for. The anger you threw her way was misguided and unfair. She didn't deserve the way that you treated her.

When Bella Swan moved to town you thought everything was going to change. She was from a big city, you didn't know much about Phoenix but you knew they probably didn't harbor the same small-town mindset that Forks did.

She had no clue who you were. She didn't know the unspoken reputation that hung above your head like a storm cloud.

And at first, you were right.

The two of you became friends quickly, Bella taking a liking to your quiet demeanor, such a drastic change from Jessica and her goons.

Your friendship appeared surface-level, to everyone but the two of you. In school, you both kept to yourselves and didn't talk much, even to each other. You would drag her along with you when you gathered the strength to hang out with your old friends. But you didn't do that often, seeing as they saw her as a shiny new toy and didn't treat her as a second-class citizen.

But after school the two of you would talk, your friendship would come alive in the comfort of your own homes, and you two would look like actual teenage girls and not two seventeen-year-olds who should be on the highest dose of Lexapro.

She was the first person that you saw as a true friend, that was until she committed, in your opinion, a cardinal sin.

Bella had gone off the deep end and you hadn't seen her in days. But that was normal, she would spiral, skip school, and then show up as if nothing happened. So you weren't concerned, sent her a few texts checking up on her and getting one-word responses back. Then the following Monday came around. You were waiting by your truck, lazily twirling your hair, eyes glazed over as you dissociated waiting for the bell to ring.

But amid your dissociation, you were pulled back to reality when a shiny black Volvo came to a screeching halt a row over. You knew who drove the expensive car so you tried to be as nonchalant as possible as you peered over your shoulder to get a good look at the owner.

You wished you hadn't.

Because getting out of the passenger seat was the person that you considered your best friend. Your best friend was sitting in the passenger seat of the car of the guy you had a crush on since he arrived at Forks High School.

She knew about your long-standing crush on Edward, she was the only person other than your mother who you had told. It came tumbling off your tongue one late night about a month after she had arrived in town. And you had sworn her to secrecy, begging her to never tell another soul.

But now it seemed to not matter, she had broken your trust and your heart.

------------------

The next year drug on. With Bella being completely infatuated with Edward you were left to crawl back to your old friends. They accepted you with barely open arms, reluctantly saving you a seat at the lunch table, sometimes sending you the location for Friday night activities.

When the Cullen clan abruptly left Forks Bella did to you exactly what you had done to your friends months earlier. Part of you didn't know why, but you let her back in, although this time keeping her at an arm's length away, never fully trusting her,

Eventually, however, Edward came back. First making his appearance walking hand in hand with Bella in the dreadful hallways of Forks High School after she had disappeared yet again for a few days with not even a courtesy text.

This time seeing them together didn't feel like a hot knife was piercing your skin. How could it, you no longer felt the same that you had for Edward. Because he had proven himself to be just like everyone else. He made you feel invisible.

------------

The heat of late spring had arrived and you took in all the warmth that you could as you walked down the small rocky path to the mailbox. Graduation had come and gone and you found yourself in isolation. The people you had forced yourself to be friends with in high school no longer mattered. You didn't have to play the uncertain game of high school politics anymore. Starting university was on the horizon and while you dreaded leaving the comfort of home you were excited, this was going to be your chance to reinvent yourself. You were no longer going to be the person no one cared to look towards.

Pulling out the various envelopes you felt your heart stop beating when the light lilac envelope was pulled to the front. You knew what it was, you didn't even have to open it. But you did, ripping it open, praying that you hadn't torn apart the coveted invitation. Sure enough in bold letters, you read “Edward Anthony Masen Cullen and Isabella Marie Swan request your presence…”.

The phone call with Bella that night was awkward. You haven't talked much since graduation but she assured you that she wanted you to be at the wedding. You had wanted to push and ask her why she was rushing to get married. I mean you along with everyone else knew that they had only known each other for a year and hadn't been dating for the entirety of said year. But she sounded happy, the happiest she had ever seemed. So you didn't say anything, instead prying for details about the impending nuptials.

-------------

Thousands of flowers cascaded down creating a custom perfume in the air. Your eyes darted between the bunches of wisteria and sweet peas and you were in awe. The wedding had snuck up on you. So much had happened over the summer leaving you feeling unprepared to start school in the fall. Leaving you to make one of the hardest choices that you had ever made, deferring your acceptance into your top school to the following fall quarter.

So when you got a reminder on your phone that read “Bella and Edward wedding tmr” you were at a loss for words. I mean you had everything you physically needed, a dress, a present, the right pair of shoes. But you had forgotten one important thing, a date.

It wasn't going to be the first time you had shown up to an event without one, but it was probably going to feel the most embarrassing.

So here you were, standing next to your group of “friends'' from high school as they gossiped about the possibility of Bella being pregnant. “What do you think?”Erik asked you, giving your arm a soft nudge with his. “I don't know guys '. Jessica of course had a counter, pointing out that out of the group you were the closest with her. Luckily before you had to come up with an excuse of why you didn't know for certain the music began, signaling that it was time for everyone to turn their attention to the altar.

A few tears managed to slip down your cheeks as you watched your sometimes best friend say “I do”. In that moment all the turbulent times the two of you experienced didn't matter. You were just happy to be in the presence of two people who were madly in love and confessing it to each other, permanently sealing their love with a dramatic kiss.

The reception area was decorated equally as beautiful. You were grateful that Bella, or more likely Alice had set you close to the dance floor. That way you could watch people without feeling like a total loser, hanging out in the corner by yourself. At least this way you could still enjoy the happiness of the other guests without feeling the gross amount of body heat from the dancing bodies.

The ice was melting quickly in your lemonade, the night had not been rewarded with a cool late summer breeze so you were appreciative of the cool drink. The night had seemingly been going according to plan. Your ‘friends’ had migrated to another table across the dance floor with the excuse of wanting to talk to some of the other guests, but they had not returned in almost two hours so you were holding your breath.

Mentally you were planning your escape plan, glancing at your watch. Waiting for an acceptable time to leave, not too early into the night but not too late that you were leaving only minutes before the bride and groom's big exit. As you granted yourself yet another glance at the heirloom watch you wore and looked back up a gasp unwillingly left your lips.

The mystery man, who looked almost familiar, chuckled at your surprised look. Confidently he took the empty seat next to yours, turning his body to give you his full attention. “May I help you”, you didn't recognize your own words, your tone was a bit rude and you didn't even give him a second to introduce himself after she sat.

“I’m Paul Lahote”.

Once he gave his name to you your eyes moved up to meet him and the electric shock that you felt in your veins almost felt real. There was no doubt blush forming on every inch of your face and you were praying that the low light of the Edison bulbs did a good job at protecting some of your dignity. You gave him your name, barely squeaking out your last name.

Things like this didn't happen to you. A man that looked like him didn't talk to you. A part of you wondered if Jessica or someone like her had already turned him down, because let's face it, you were always the option but never the priority.

“I think you should share a dance with me, no pretty girl like you should be sitting alone at a wedding”. The flare in your cheeks was visible now, you were sure of it. No matter how low the light was you could have sworn a red glow was emitting from your body, like an accusing halo.

“Paul…you don't have to dance with me, I was just getting ready to leave”. Gathering your belongings as you begin to stand up. “No!”. He said, eyebrows raising to the top of his forehead once he realized how loud he exclaimed. Sheepishly he looked around offering small smiles as an apology to a few of the guests who looked at him like he had three heads.

“Please, I noticed you when I walked in before the ceremony and I haven't been able to shake you from my eyeline all night. I don’t think I can take no for an answer”.

The fact that your heart was still caged behind your chest was an act of god. Because at this point it should have flown away due to how hard it was beating. You were at a loss for words. The thought that someone was putting you first, taking interest in you was unbearable. And you were crumbling at his gaze.

His outstretched hand found yours that you slowly had begun to uncurl from against your body. Swiftly he whisked you out onto the dance floor, pulling your body flush to his.

Clumsily your feat matched his falling into routine with his steps, your body swaying in unison to the light melody. He hummed along softly to the quiet music as he kept a firm grip on you, almost like he was afraid to let you go.

The song ended and awkwardly you looked around not knowing what to do. Paul however looked happy as can be, letting go of your hand but keeping the one on your lower back in place. He led you back to the table where you had spent most of the night, pulling out your chair before you could even react. You thanked him as you sunk into the back of the chair trying to ground yourself.

“Man, I feel like the luckiest guy here at this whole damn wedding I got to dance with the prettiest guest of them all”. He said matter-of-factly triumphantly, taking a sip out of the glass he abandoned when he first approached your table. You scoffed, there was no way he was being for real, the alcohol had to have been getting to him now if he was saying such an untrue statement.

“I think you've had enough”. Your voice was shy and your eyes barely peeked through your almost closed eyelids. The embarrassment you hadn't felt earlier had returned and you were suddenly hyper-conscious of everything happening around you.

“Doll this stuff doesn't make me feel anything, you, however, are making me feel alive for the first time”. His drink was abandoned yet again as he scooted his chair closer, invading your bubble, and causing you to squirm under his gaze yet again.

“Paul, I'm flattered but again I think your choices are impaired. There's no way you feel anything like that for me”.

Paul was out of his chair before you could continue your babbling, cutting you off by capturing your lips in his.

After he pulled back for air his forehead rested against yours, the two of you matching your breathing. You were yet again at a loss for words, kissing the hottest boy at your best friend's wedding was not on this year's bingo card. But as per usual it seems Paul had the perfect thing to say, “My angel forgive me if this is forward, but l you need to let me love you, I have a feeling that you're gonna be stuck with me for a long time”.

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berrieluv · 1 year

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Rocket Queen.

eddie munson x fem!reader.

summary: where you're Steve's girlfriend but Eddie fucks you to record your moans and put them in their new song. (inspired in the legend where fans say axl rose was having sex in the studio with steven adler's gf)

cw. chating kink, breeding kink, creampie, dub-con(?)

Eddie Munson wasn't one for revenge. He prided himself on being the 'freak' back in his High-school times, but in contrast with his looks, he always tried to show a good image to his fans. More when he knew some teenagers (Dustin, by example) saw him as a role model.

He knew how important portraying a good image was for all the teens, but when Steve Harrington made mocking comments about his band, claiming he would never listen that kind of music, he felt... his ego felt hurt.

Corroded Coffin was very successful when that happened, so Steve's comment shouldn't bother him that much, knowing that kind of music wasn't for everyone.

Steve Harrington didn't have many things he enjoyed in this life, he worked for his parents in New York and he wasn't a fan of his job just as he wasn't a fan of Eddie's band music. The only thing Steve Harrington truly liked, was you.

"so... How do you record everything?" You asked, big bright eyes looking at Eddie with a smile planted on your face and Steve rolled his eyes, annoyed, because it seems that lately the only topic in their conversation was Eddie. "Is it cool? Like the movies?"

"Oh, is really cool, princess" Eddie started, smirking, and he could feel Steve's eyes trying to burn him alive "I could show you. I mean, the studio, you could go one day, sometimes the managers allow visits"

"It would be so cool!" You clapped, looking at your boyfriend with an excited smile and he couldn't help but give you one back. "I'm not a big fan of rock, I have to be honest" Eddie could say "But I'm always open to hear new things"

He smiled, and Steve's annoyed face only made Eddie feel better.

And that took you there. A quick talk with Eddie's manager and you were walking around the Label. Eddie took you to the room where Corroded Coffin recorded their songs, he explained to you the panel and showed you the instruments.

"I was working on a sad song, you know, something heartbreaking" He starts, and you look at him with a smile "You have any anecdotes?"

"No, I don't think so"

"C'mon, princess. You're telling me Steve has never break your heart?"

"He's not like that" you murmur.

Eddie chuckled and then looked at you dead serious "wait... so you don't know?"

"know what?"

"I– I shouldn't tell you, forget I say something"

But now you were left with this curiosity killing you inside, because what didn't you know?

"Tell me" you begged, looking at Eddie with doe eyes.

"I feel like I shouldn't. I mean, Steve's my friend..." That's not completely a lie "But, I've never been the kind to lie" That was in fact a lie "Steve brought a girl to the last party we had... The one where we celebrated the release of our new album"

You frown "But he told me he wasn't going to that party. He had an extra shift"

That was true. Eddie knew, and everyone knew. But he shrugged "He was here. With a girl. She was really pretty. Blonde, tall, skinny, I think she had a few works done but they looked good" You felt your heart drop at Eddie's words and looked at him, worried "Not that, not that you're not pretty because you are. You just have different kinds of beauty"

"What does that mean?"

"I mean she looked... wild you know, she dressed a bit like me, kind of" He smiles "But I like the way you dress too, I've always been a fan of those skirts you use... always wondered how would it feel to slip my hand under"

He starts, sitting on the chair in front of the recording panel and opening his legs, feeling like he owned the place and showing himself confident when you felt your legs starting to shake.

"Do you... do you think Steve slept with her?"

"Well, he did disappeared for a long time to go to the bathroom. A friend, who had a little crush on her, told me he lost her when she headed to the bathroom" He smiles "But, hey, I don't know, just... just silly observations"

You nod, your mouth biting your nails and feeling lost, because you couldn't think Steve was one to do that. Because he has never lie to you, and suddenly you found out he was not only where he said he wasn't but with someone else. Cheating on you.

Eddie took advantage of your distraction and took your bare leg with his big calloused hand "Don't think about it too much" He says, pulling you close to him "It's probably not true" Now his hand was really fucking close to your core "Maybe he wasn't even here and I mistook him for someone"

He knew Steve wasn't there. He send him a text telling him how sorry he was he had to miss the party, because yes, they weren't exactly best friend but they were rolling with the same group of people, so eventually they learned to deal with one another.

"You think?"

He just shrugs, sitting you in his leg, his hand caressing your inner thigh and slowly putting your underwear aside. "Eddie?" You ask, he just looks up at you and murmurs something "Whatcha' doing?"

"Just... just want to show you what I think Steve was doing... with that girl"

You frowned, but didn't complain, it was Eddie, who you learned was sweet, good Eddie. A role model for teens, and he was a friend of Steve, he couldn't try to harm your relationship, and it was merely superficial, thought you would like to remind your pussy that, because it felt wet. Like you haven't feel it in weeks.

"But you said he wasn't here" You pout. And Eddie tells you, again, he couldn't be sure. It was dark, and this was Los Angeles, there were tons of brown heads with pretty hair. "What if he gets mad?"

"You would figure out how to fix it, princess. Tell him it's not your fault. You were trying to solve a doubt, weren't you?" You nod and you open your legs more, Eddie takes your leg and puts it on top of his other leg, allowing you to be well open for him "Aren't you the best girlfriend? The prettiest too"

Eddie puts aside your wet panties and chuckles at your desperation, because this wasn't your boyfriend, and no matter how much you tried to play the morally-right part, you were horny, needy for Eddie's fingers.

You tried to move, allow Eddie to put his fingers inside of you instead of just circling your clit, but he had other plans, and he showed you.

"Baby..." He started "If you want me to show you what Steve did, you need to stop moving" And you nod, because in your head the thought of Eddie knowing exactly what Steve did was completely posible, and the fact that you were 'learning' the mistake your boyfriend committed was what allowed your conscience to stay still.

"Eddie I think I go–"

"But Steve took longer" he murmured in your neck, taking your hips with both hands, your core was touching against the fabric of his skinny jeans and he moved your body back and forwards.

"Eds–"

You cried, not knowing if it was because you wanted him to stop, or because you wanted him to keep going, at this moment you knew two things;

This was wrong.

This feels really, really good.

Your whole face felt hot, your body felt like it was about to burn in pleasure and your body moved so easily against the rough fabric because you were unimaginably wet.

"You like it, don't you?" He started, but you couldn't admit it, because it made you feel even guiltier. But he has never be more right in his life. You were loving it, your body was reacting in ways it hasn't with Steve. "Don't try to say no, princess. I'm seeing those tears, you're crying on pleasure. Your body can't stop moving against my thigh"

And it was true. You didn't notice when he stopped touching your hips but now your body was moving by itself, desperate to feel the friction against Eddie's body, maybe desperate for something more.

"Steve won't be–" you moan "He won't like this"

"What he doesn't see, doesn't hurt him, mhm?"

His finger starts circling your clit, moving around at a fast pace, adding two more fingers to his touches. "Up" he orders, and you happily obey, without thinking about it, you lift your body a little and he puts his fingers inside. "Ride me, would you? Ride my long fingers, baby. Then I'll replace them with ma' cock"

You whined, and you did it like a whore, happy to hear that instruction and wanting nothing more but to find your release in Eddie's fingers.

Your cum was leaking from your pussy, wetting Eddie's fingers completely and borderline jumping on them, and if it wasn't for his strong hand on your hip you wouldn't have any self control over this. The pleasure started to build in your belly, intense, your sopping pussy meeting Eddie's fingers over and over, making you scream his name, and beg for more.

"Eddie, we should stop"

He slaps your thighs and shakes his head, leaving a burning sensation in your skin, holding you when you came again in his fingers, and standing you up so he can unzip his pants.

"Dick would be cheating" you murmur, looking at Eddie's pink and hard cock. It wasn't as thick as Steve but it was almost as long.

"But you have to, princess" He pouts "I can see how needy your slutty cunt is"

You pout and shake your hand, knowing he's not lying, you can feel your wetness drooling from your thighs. Eddie doesn't care, he's taking your hand and your body, sitting you in his cock, slowly instructing you to go down. Not like you mind, of course, you couldn't complain. You weren't complaining.

"Fucking your boyfriend's friend, I see" He teases, smiling back at you when he feels your pussy clenching thanks to his words. "Cumming on other man's cock, aren't you? You get so wet at that thought I can feel your pussy begging me to keep it up. Such a dirty, dirty slut"

"M' gonna fill you up with my cum, baby. Steve's gonna wonder where you got all that cum from, what're you saying?"

"Don't know"

He smiles and takes your hips to make you move faster on his cock "Pretty dumb girl, you can't know, can you? You're just so pretty, so cockdrunk"

"Faster, Eddie" You cry.

"You' cumming again? Already?" He thrusts "Fuck, baby, if you cum that much and in so little I can see why Steve's obsessed with you, you make a man's ego grow big"

You moan and yell Eddie's name, your walls tightened around Eddie's cock. Eddie smiled at the sight of his cum drooling from your swollen lips.

You thanked you were sitting on Eddie's lap, otherwise you would've fall. When he cums, his hands slipped under your shirt, feeling a bit sticky from his attempts to clean your cum when he was fingering you. He thrusts deeper into you, making you see stars, and his movement were sending another building orgasm to your body.

Eddie's movements became more desperate with your moans, needing, wanting, to fill you up even more, his cock was twitching inside your sore pussy and he pulled out immediately after he came for a second time.

He took you in his arms and combed your hair, leaving what felt like an intimate forehead kiss and ordering you to see the mess you made on his cock and his jeans, your full pussy still tainting the fabric. A white, sticky mess leaking out of your pussy, now that his cock was out you were able to see just how much he cum.

"Did so good, princess"

"The song is really, really good" Robin mentioned back at Eddie's place, a few months after Steve decided to make fun of him. "Like the rhythm too much" She chuckles.

"Whose moans are those?" Steve said, looking at Eddie. "They... they really add to the song"

"A girl I met back at the last album release party"

"Sound familiar" he murmurs, and Eddie just smirked.

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic

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magicfootballstuff · 4 months

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Dirty Little Secret - part 6 (leila ouahabi x reader)

Summary: A love story about secrets, flirty messages, football rivalries, and useless lesbians who don’t know how to communicate. And it all starts with one badly timed challenge in the Champions League.

Leila Ouahabi x Arsenal!reader

Part 6/?

Read other parts here.

———

You’re a European Champion.

You don’t really know what to do with that information.

To be honest, after the first twenty four hours that pass in a hungover blur, you end up on a bit of a downer. You should be delighted, riding the high of being the first England team to win a major trophy in fifty-six years, but after two glorious months in camp with a group of girls you’re now bonded with for life, returning to your hometown for a couple of weeks before pre-season is a dose of reality that’s just a little bit too big to swallow.

You’re happy to see your family, of course. You’ve spent most of the summer away from them with only limited visits while you were in camp. But after the best summer of your life with a football at your feet, it takes all of about three days for you to be itching to get back on the football pitch again.

A few days into your two weeks off, a few of the girls get together for what is part post-Euro reunion and part farewell dinner for Georgia, who departs for Munich the next day. It’s a mixed group - a few Lionesses and some of the girls from Manchester City - but it’s the familiar dark hair at the end of the table that catches your eye, deep in conversation with somebody else you don’t know.

You’re surprised to see Leila who, apart from having her own Euro hopes dashed by Georgia’s extra time winner, has no reason to know Georgia.

You take a seat next to Lauren, who notices you looking at the two girls at the far end of the table.

“Oh, that’s Laia and Leila,” she explains. “I invited them. They’re still settling into the team and there’s so many City girls here, I thought it would be nice for them to get to know people a bit better.”

Leila must feel your eyes on her because it’s at that exact moment that she looks up and her dark gaze meets yours. There’s no change to her expression, no giveaway to anybody else that you know each other except for the fact that her eyes linger on you for longer than they would if you were just strangers who happened to make eye contact, until she finally turns back to her conversation with Laia.

You feel a rush of giddiness go straight to your head, blocking out all the sounds around you as you continue to look at Leila, admiring the sharp angles of her side profile. It almost feels like the Arnold Clark Cup all over again, having this secret that nobody else around you knows. You enjoyed your time in Barcelona with Leila and getting to be all coupley with her in front of her old teammates, but you’d forgotten how much of a turn-on the thrill of secrecy could be.

———

As the evening goes on, you don’t forget about Leila - how could you, when she is right there and looks so damn good - but you get a little distracted by everything else. There are enough Lionesses present that means you spend a lot of time talking about the Euros, reminiscing over the best summer of your life, then because tonight is about Georgia leaving, you end up talking about old times at City. It’s been years since you played for them, a scrawny teenager playing alongside Keira and Georgia, all three of you with big dreams and no idea that you would one day become European Champions together. But even as you reminisce, there’s always a part of you that’s aware of Leila’s presence at the other end of the table and you can’t help but glancing at her throughout the night.

“All us OG City girls are gradually leaving the nest,” Georgia says, smiling fondly at you and Keira. “I wonder who’ll be next.”

You notice that Keira is suspiciously quiet and has suddenly taken a deep interest in the ice cubes at the bottom of her empty glass. With the performances she’s just put on at the Euros, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got interest from other clubs too.

“City’s got some new blood now though,” you say, your eyes wandering to Leila once more. “Not that it’ll matter, Arsenal will still beat City this season.”

Predictably in a room full of mostly City players, your comment causes outrage. Arsenal and City are due to play each other soon for the first fixture of the new season and you always enjoy the rivalry against your old club. And with Leila on the other team, you’ve got extra incentive to go out there and put on a show this time.

You let them banter with you for a moment. Even Georgia, technically no longer a City player, takes great joy in slandering Arsenal.

When the conversation finally moves on, your eyes wander back to Leila, and you tune out the voices around you as you stare, mentally trying to figure out if there’s a way you can subtly change seats to be closer to her without alerting the entire group to your motives.

There isn’t, and Leila chooses that exact moment to meet your gaze while her lips are still wrapped around the straw in her drink. She lets the straw slip out of her mouth but you still get a glimpse of the pink tip of her tongue and there’s no way in hell you can pay attention to whatever conversation is going on around you now.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, anything to give yourself a chance to get away and recompose yourself, and thankfully they’re all too busy laughing at something Georgia is saying to pay any attention to the flush of your cheeks, nor the way that Leila’s gaze follows you as you go.

You hear somebody else enter the bathroom as you flush the toilet and when you exit the cubicle Leila is standing at the sinks checking her appearance in the mirror. Her dark eyes find yours in the reflection, and her mouth twitches in a smirk of recognition.

“Hi,” she says.

You glance around the bathroom, checking that all three stalls are empty, before you approach the sink to wash your hands and reply, “Hi yourself. How are you finding Manchester?”

“I like it. It’s a nice city.”

“At least the weather’s been nice since you got here. Just wait until it rains every day.”

You walk over to the paper towel dispenser to dry your hands and Leila turns around, leaning back against the sink to look at you.

“Everything is always about the weather to you English people,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Too hot, too cold.”

“What can I say - we like to complain.”

“Are you going to complain right now?” Leila asks.

The air in the bathroom suddenly feels a lot thicker, the way that Leila is watching you as you dispose of the balled up paper towel, coupled with the teasing lilt to her tone, reminding you of just how attracted you are to her.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Actually, there is one thing I want to complain about,” you say, taking a couple of steps closer to Leila.

“What‘s that?” Leila asks, her eyebrows crinkling together in a frown.

“I want to complain about the fact that we’re alone in this completely deserted bathroom and you haven’t kissed me yet.”

“You haven’t kissed me either,” Leila points out.

“Is that an invitation?” you challenge her.

Your words have the desired effect of provoking a reaction from Leila, because her eyes flash in defiance and she retaliates, “I want to complain about how annoying-”

You don’t give Leila the chance to finish her complaint, because you grab her by the lapels of her jacket and pull her in for a kiss. She lets out a surprised little grunt when your lips collide with hers, but melts into the kiss quickly, her hands finding your hips as her lips settle into a familiar movement against your own.

You only realise now that you’re here, kissing Leila in a secluded bathroom like your life depends on it, that it’s actually been months since you last did this. In all your focus for the Euros, the hard work and the euphoria, you’d sort of forgotten that you hadn’t actually kissed Leila since you bid your goodbyes to each other in the departure lounge of the Barcelona airport after your brief visit at the end of last season. Not even after your game against each other during the tournament did you kiss.

And with the way Leila kisses you, stealing the air from your mouth with such hunger, you vow never to go another three months without kissing her again.

“I’ve missed you,” you mumble against her mouth, when you have to draw back for breath, to save yourself from passing out from sheer lack of oxygen caused by Leila’s kiss. “I’ve missed this.”

Leila’s hand finds the back of your head and she uses it to pull you closer, not for another kiss, but to rest your head against her shoulder as she wraps her other arm around your back. You snake your own arms around her waist, burying your face into her neck and savouring the feeling of her arms around you, not wanting this moment to end.

“I’ve missed this too,” Leila murmurs, her fingers stroking through your hair.

She’s right, it’s this that you’ve been craving. Not the kissing or the sex, though you’ve spent more time thinking about that in the nearly three months since you last slept together than you’d care to admit, but everything else too. The intimacy of being held, of having somebody to share the little moments with, the ability to go from teasing each other about the weather to making out against a sink to cuddling like this, with each of those things feeling just as natural as the last.

And maybe, just maybe, all of that will be easier to facilitate than it was when you lived in different countries.

“Stay with me tonight?” Leila asks, feeling her voice rumble beneath your cheek as much as you hear the words.

You’d been planning on getting a taxi back to your parents’ house on the outskirts of Manchester, or maybe crashing with Lauren or Keira if it ends up being a late one tonight, but that was before you knew that you’d see Leila tonight. Now that this offer is on the table, there’s nowhere else you want to spend the night.

“Of course.”

———

Waking up the next morning, there are two things that you feel. The first is comfort, Leila’s warm body wrapped around your own with your hips nestled back against her own, feeling happy and well-rested after a night of good sleep in her arms.

The second is the desperate urge to pee.

You try to extract yourself from Leila’s embrace without disturbing her, but Leila only tightens her arms around you to stop you from leaving and mumbles words that you don’t understand in sleepy Spanish.

“Leila,” you murmur, trying to wriggle free. “Leila, I need to pee. Where’s your bathroom?”

Leila reluctantly lets you leave her arms and mutters in Spanish again, before she says in English, “Left.”

You slip out of bed and leave Leila’s bedroom, following her directions by finding the bathroom through the next door to the left.

When you’ve been to the toilet and freshened up a little with some cold water to your face and running your fingers through your mussed hair, you exit the bathroom and immediately stop in your tracks when you see somebody sitting at the dining table eating breakfast and drinking coffee. You think you recognise her as one of Leila’s new City teammates, though her name slips your mind, but you wonder if you really walked right past her without noticing her on your way to the bathroom.

“Hi,” she greets you, an amused smile gracing her lips. “I’m Deyna.”

You glance at Leila’s bedroom door, which stands slightly ajar as you left it, then introduce yourself to Deyna.

“Arsenal, right?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you nod. “And you’re at City with Leila?”

“Teammates. Roommates.” Deyna pauses, then adds, “Just regular mates.”

“Cool,” you say, unsure whether you’re supposed to continue to make smalltalk with Deyna out of politeness, or if it’s acceptable to make your excuses and return to Leila’s room.

Luckily you’re saved at that exact moment by Leila herself, who emerges from her bedroom with sleep-tousled hair to investigate what’s going on.

“Oh,” she says, when she sees Deyna. From the expression on her face, she’s as surprised to see Deyna as you are. She turns to you, then says, “This is Deyna.”

“She knows that already,” Deyna grins. “We were just getting to know each other.”

“Coffee?” Leila asks you, as she walks over to the kitchen units and grabs a couple of mugs out of a cupboard.

“Yes please,” you reply. At the table, Deyna’s attention is now on her phone as she eats, and you say to Leila, “You didn’t mention that you had a roommate.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a deep sleeper,” Deyna interjects, glancing up from the screen of her phone with a smirk gracing her lips.

Your cheeks burn red and Leila retaliates with what you can only assume is a string of Spanish expletives.

Deyna apologises, mostly directing it at you, before she asks, “So how did you two meet?”

“Champions League,” Leila answers, busying herself over the coffee again.

“We played each other twice in the group stage last season,” you elaborate.

“I beat her twice,” Leila says, glancing across at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Leila got a yellow card for trying to break my legs.”

“I didn’t … it was an accident,” Leila insists. “It was passion.”

“Strange way to flirt, but okay,” Deyna teases Leila.

“That’s what I said!” you exclaim in agreement.

Leila wanders over with two steaming mugs of coffee, one of which she offers out to you, and she leans in to press a quick kiss to your lips as she mumbles, “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

You thank her for the coffee, bringing it to your lips and taking the tiniest sip from the mug, letting out a satisfied hum.

The only other time Leila has made you coffee was when you went to visit her in Barcelona, but the coffee is perfect, like heaven touching your tongue.

“You remembered how I take my coffee?” you ask.

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Thank you, it’s perfect.”

The domesticity of it is nice, as if you’re existing in a bubble where only you and Leila matter.

Until Deyna interrupts your moment.

“Go and be cute in your room,” she tells Leila, dismissing you both with a wave and a roll of her eyes. “I’m trying to eat.”

Leila nudges you back towards her bedroom and you soon find yourself nestled against Leila’s side again, propped up against the headboard with steaming mugs of coffee cradled in your hands.

“You promised me a tour?” she says.

“Of Manchester?”

Leila nods eagerly.

“You’re gonna have to wait a bit longer,” you tell Leila apologetically. “I can’t hang out today.”

The disappointment that flashes across Leila’s face is almost enough to have you reaching for your phone to call your agent to cancel your plans for the day.

“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be going back to my old junior club today. Helping out with some training, taking photos with the kids, letting them see my medal. Inspiring the next generation and all that crap.”

“It’s not crap,” Leila assures you. “Well, maybe for me if it means we can’t hang out.”

“Didn’t know you were so clingy,” you tease her.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet,” Leila replies flirtatiously.

You smile across at her.

“And I can’t wait to find out.”

———

You return to London a couple of days later, regretfully without having seen Leila again since that morning at her flat, but you start to message each other more often. Not quite every day, but a few times a week, little things like talking about your days. It’s more familiar than it’s ever been before, with most of your conversations prior to the Euros being laced with flirtatious pictures and suggestive messages. But this is different - you talk about mundane things like training, or what you’re having for dinner, or the latest English slang words that Leila has learned from her new City teammates.

But that doesn’t mean your relationship has lost any of its spark. It’s still flirty, especially because Arsenal’s first fixture of the new season is away at City. It reminds you a little bit of those first couple of encounters in the Champions League last season, bantering about the upcoming contest in a way you hope leads to sparks on and off the pitch.

And then the game gets cancelled.

All that build-up, the jokes about yellow cards, the promises that you’d let Leila do whatever she wants to you if she let you score past her, falls away into nothing the moment that the game is called off.

You feel empty. And not just because football is your life and you’d been looking forward to the league starting up again, but because once the season starts you don’t know when you and Leila will both get time off at the same time. It might be months before you get to see each other again.

———

Two things happen when the season finally begins and September morphs into October.

The first is that you pick up a hamstring injury. It shouldn’t surprise you too much, given that you pretty much went straight from last season into the Euros, straight into pre-season. You’re in your prime as an athlete, but you’re not invincible. You work hard on your recovery, even if you’re a little bummed to be spending so much time in the gym and staying on the sidelines as the Champions League group stage begins.

The second thing that happens is that fifteen Spanish players, including Leila, step back from their national team in protest of their working conditions. You don’t know the details but you remember Leila alluding to some problems during the Euros, when she pointed out that talent alone doesn’t win Championships.

You don’t really know what you can do to support Leila, especially from London. The story blows up in the football media world and you imagine it must be particularly hard for Leila, being so far from Spain and away from most of the other girls involved, but you don’t know if there’s anything you can do or say to make it easier.

You eventually settle on messaging her a few hours after the story hits the headlines.

You Proud of you for standing up for the right thing! Always here if you want to talk about it or if you want a distraction instead?

Leila likes your message after a few hours but doesn’t reply.

The red heart that taunts you from the screen of your phone is something you’ll come to realise is probably the beginning of the end.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leila ouahabi imagine #leila ouahabi x reader #dirty little secret

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thefiery-phoenix · 1 month

Text

YANDERE SEONGJI YUK HEADCANONS

After he escaped from the grasp of the Shaman and from the Cheonlinag village, he found his solace by himself on the mountain and felt at peace till is peace got disrupted by a ragtag group of unruly teenagers who thought of him as their teacher and decided to stick around him who called themselves the Cheonliang family. Finding love was the LAST thing he ever had on his mind, he was born with an extra finger in his hand and foot was supposedly destined to be the Yaksha for that brat of a Shaman's son Taejin till he decided to say screw it and wanted to forge his own path. For a long time it was just him and the annoying teenagers till you stumbled upon his mountain

It was the night time and the peace and serenity of the night was disrupted by you, whose soft sobs and sniffles echoed through the atmosphere of the night. Seongji came out of his cave slightly annoyed at first that someone was on the mountain but when his eyes landed on you with your tears streaming down your pretty face, your hair strands falling on your face and your hair gently billowing in the gentle breeze as your shirt was almost half torn, his expression softened. You made him feel something, more than he'd ever like to admit. You made him feel something warm...he felt like there was a warm fire lit at the bottom of his stomach and it was a feeling he couldn't explain. However his feelings were something to be bothered about later, right now he felt the urge to comfort you

He strode over to you slowly to not scare you off as he looked at you with a slight frown on his face. Silently without saying anything, his thumb gently brushed against your cheek and wiped your tear as he wrapped his jacket around you. "Why are you so upset...little things like you shouldn't be crying alone this late in the night'' he said as he surveyed your features with his calculating gaze. As you told him the story of how the Shaman almost tried to assault you and tried to rip your clothes off till you escaped from him and he'd sent the members of the Yamazaki clan to get you back, Seongji's eyes narrowed in anger. He felt his rage building up and he wanted nothing more than to just slam that conman of a Shaman's face into a bricked wall and rip out his damn eyes with his Tanghulu rods

He took you to an area where the other students were busy chatting with each other and you spotted five guys wearing sunglasses and the same jackets in the red and black and white colors, a chubby girl with glasses and blonde hair in a judo uniform and another girl with raven hair and was slightly younger than the rest of them. "Oh, someone new, hello" said the blonde chubby girl as she introduced herself as Mary Kim. "We can see she's new dumbass elephant'' said another guy as he scoffed and rolled his eyes as Mary and the guy started bickering with each other. A guy leaned in towards you with a friendly smile on his face. "Sorry about them, they're always like that. The guy she's arguing with is Vinjin by the way, he used to be a sacrifice before our teacher saved him'' said the guy to you as he introduced himself as Jaewoo to you. "Shut up, I could fight on my own you know'' said Vinjin. "Last I remember you started crying and begged me to save you...correct me if I'm wrong and also, I'm not your teacher, you kids really don't have anything better to do in your lives...'' said Seongji as a slight amused smirk formed on his face as Vinjin instantly shut up and grumbled under his breath

You were introduced to the other people as well such as Taebong, Hyungjae, Wooseok and Sujin. Seongji sneaked a few glances at you every now and then as he looked at your nervous behavior. You reminded him of a scared little animal, he found it endearing actually. He handed you a plate of food and when you politely tried to refuse him, his eyes narrowed at you. "Eat. I can see you're exhausted, don't give me all that being polite crap'' he said in a stern tone as he handed you the plate. You started staying with the Cheonliang family after that and grew rather close to them. The first time when you fell asleep, he took in your features and he knew he was staring at you like an idiot but he couldn't help it. You looked so... peaceful and innocent. You did not deserve to go through whatever happened to you. Something in him urged him to protect you and keep you safe and maybe stab the Shaman in the eye one day

Overtime you'll start to realize his feelings for you would become possessive. He realizes his feelings for you are spinning out of control but does he care? Of course not, he wants to keep you safe. However it starts off slowly. He doesn't want you going into the village anymore since he's worried someone might take you away. You're always to be under his gaze where he can keep an eye on you. He'd be damned if Shigeaki Kojima and his lapdogs take you away from him. At first he tries to shove his feelings inside for you deep down. But when you spot him brooding over his thoughts and when you comfort him and hold his rough calloused hands in your ones, it takes him all his self control to not hug you. He's never had anyone compliment his fingers, he was always viewed as a monster. His mind went into a literal overdrive as he slightly blushed for the very first time and looked slightly flustered and embarrassed as he felt his heart hammer against his chest wildly

He's more of a silent observer. He always watches you from the shadows, even though he might look aloof and distant and stoic, deep down he really does care for you, a lot. If you have nightmares he'll sigh softly as he'll run his fingers through your hair gently and awkwardly yet comfortingly pat your head as you'll fall asleep. Don't ask me how but somehow he'll find a way to know whatever you like. Maybe he'll overhear one of his students talking or something and his interest will pique up. Whatever it is that you want, you'll have it. He has obsessive feelings for you but he won't act upon them till the time you're in any kind of danger

One day you were about to go into the village since you needed something and the members of the Yamazaki clan tried to take you away after Taejin wanted you to be his. Seongji seethed and saw red as soon as he heard the news. When he saw the men grabbing you by your hair and making you cry, that's when he felt like he snapped. His anger coursed through him like a burning flame and he felt like things were a blur but within a matter of mere seconds, he managed to knock everyone out. He ruthlessly beat them up and stabbed them with his Tanghulu rods and even stabbed one of them in the eye. Their screams of pain didn't matter to him, they hurt you, they deserved it. A primitive darker side of him filled him with thoughts of just murdering them for good so they'd learn a lesson. However he didn't want to make you scared, you needed to be comforted first

"Why did you leave... I told you I'd give you whatever you want. It's not safe for you to be out on your own anymore. Come on, let's go'' said Seongji to you as he slightly frowned and he lifted you in his arms like a sack of flour and carried you back to the cave. He'll patch up any of your wounds and a sad look will pass on his face if sees any of your injuries though he might hide it. You were almost taken away from him, he can't allow you to do as you please anymore, not when your safety is at stake. He'll ask the others to keep an eye on you as well and you'll bet your allowance they'll IMMEDIATELY snitch on you the first chance they get. Look, they all like you but they like their teacher more and they're loyal to him so... say goodbye to your privacy I guess

Seongji might pretend to be annoyed when he has to deal with you when he's cooking but he secretly loves your company. He hates the thought of someone else stealing you away from him, he's seen the way some men looked at you and it just makes him want to rip their bloody eyes out. He'll deal with your company and presence with a soft smile on his face. If you start getting cheeky and start saying cheesy stuff he'll roll his eyes at you and smirk but he'll be a blushing mess deep down. He has barely any experience when it comes to romance and love but he still wants to take care of you nonetheless

Don't even THINK of trying to escape from him or leave him, he's known as the King of Cheonliang for a reason. If you somehow manage to get out of Cheonliang, he'll have to call his 'friends' for help, his friends being none other than the first generation Kings themselves. While Seongji is not pleased with your escape attempt, he will glare at you in a cold manner and list out all the dangerous possibilities that could have happened to you had your escape attempt been successful. He just wants to love you and protect you, why is that so hard for you to understand? He'll give you the silent treatment and treat you like a naughty kid till you're ready to apologize for your actions in which case he'll embrace you and gently pat your head and tell you how much he loves you and it's all for your own good. If you start throwing a tantrum and kicking at things, he'll just be amused. You remind him of a bratty little child, however if you're crying your eyes and heart out, he'll feel his chest tighten. He doesn't like seeing you cry, he'll just sigh and wipe your tears away but he'll never allow you to leave. You're belong to him and he'll do everything he can to ensure it stays that way...

#yandere lookism characters #yandere lookism characters x reader #yandere lookism x reader #yandere lookism #yandere seongji yuk #yandere seongji yuk x reader #yandere seongji yuk headcanons #yandere seongji yuk oneshots #yandere seongji yuk imagines #yandere seongji yuk scenarios #dark lookism characters #dark lookism x reader #dark lookism characters x reader #dark lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism

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letarasstuff · 6 months

Text

Female Rage

(A/N): Initially, I wanted to end this one on a hopeful note. But fighting the war of equality and equity can be pretty hopeless. I tried to be as inclusive as possible, but it's came out in a very binary way. I'm sorry for that and I'm readyto change anything.

Summary: Spencer learns from his daughter how much the patriarchy really sucks.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: the utter feeling of hopelessness in today's patriarchy, unwanted advances, some men suck

✨Masterlist✨

_________________________

“Hey, what’s with you today?” Spencer asks after hearing his daughter slamming the front door shut.

Her stomping feet bring her towards the living room, where he sits on the couch with a book in his hands, deciding whether or not he’ll include it in his next class. Looking up from the written words, he instantly spots all the emotion running over (Y/N)’s face.

Now, being a father to a 16 year old teenager wasn’t always easy and especially since puberty started it’s becoming increasingly difficult to decipher his child, but Spencer knows right away what kind of emotional cocktail is playing here: Anger, hurt, a pinch of shock and layered under all of this is a certain type of fear. Which one is up to (Y/N) telling him.

“What’s with me today?” She asks him in an incredulous tone. “With me? What about you? Or your entire gender. No, seriously. How can you men go around, trumpeting how you are the stronger, the smarter, the better, the most superior gender? And mean that? Even going as far as to believe that bullshit”

(Y/N) stops, taking in a deep breath. Her father looks at her with waiting eyes, thinking that she now will calmly explain to him what her whole tirade is about. But it seems that this was just the prologue. Because she continues with even more vigour in her voice than she started with.

“For real, what makes you even think that? Stronger than a person, who was assigned female at birth? Just because you are able to build muscles faster than we? Or lose weight faster than us? You know what I call that? An evolutionary problem, because while I got emergency fat to feed off in the case of, I don’t know, an apocalypse, you will freeze to death.

“Our bodies are, for the most part, able to grow an entire functioning human being. We literally take a breakfast bar and build fingers with that energy.

“And for the smarter part? No, absolutely not. So many findings in history have been stolen from women by men, who greedily put their name on it and call it a day of science. Without women, cars probably would still drive around with windshield wipers. Mary Anderson has been laughed at for that idea, despite being one of the first women to hold a patent. And as soon as it expired, suddenly wipers were installed in all cars. Out of nowhere, it stopped being a dumb idea? Just because you weren’t able to attribute it to a woman?!

“But what more to expect from a gender that made protective gear for their testicles in hockey mandatory a hundred years before doing the same thing with a helmet. Who would have thought that brain cells need protection, too? A woman definitely.

I don’t wanna say one gender is better than the other or that there should be a particular fight between any gender at all, but men make it out like that. Damn it, they make women compete with each other to garner their attention. All those “pick me” girls you make fun of? They are the product of internalised misogyny.

“The baseline is wanting to be different from the “typical girl”, right? Well, what is a typical girl, who defined her and why is it so bad to be typical. Who do I want to be different for? Who is mad that I’m dressing up, putting makeup on or having good friendships with other girls?

“Men apparently, because they don’t want a different girl. They don’t want a well dressed, put together woman for the sake of love or so. They want someone easy. Nothing complicated, not someone, who asks them if these pants do look better with that shirt or this blouse. They don’t want to be confronted with problems. That’s why they made up a narrative of how a woman is supposed to be, solely for their own interest.

“And this whole thing eradicates the beautiful experiences you can have as a woman. I don’t talk about these silly and partly belittling things like girl dinner or girl maths. I’m talking about hyping each other up. Bathrooms in a club are fun, because there are a bunch of strangers, talking another stranger up to shoot their shot. Or down from texting their ex. There is unity.

“So where do men get their audacity?!”

Ending her whole rant with this question, (Y/N) stands in front of her father, seething and looking like she is about to overthrow the patriarchy with her own two hands. Right here, right now.

Meanwhile Spencer has started to shrink into the sofa and looks as physically small as possible.

“Uhm, the audacity for what, Sweetheart?” He asks hesitantly, scared for her reaction, but also knowing that this is something his daughter needs to get out of her system.

“TO WALK UP TO ME AND TRYING TO GET SOMETHING ON WITH ME WHILE HE CLEARLY HAS BEEN TRYING TO DESTROY MY WHOLE PRESENTATION! TO FLIRT WITH A MINOR WHILE HE CLEAR AS DAY IS IN HIS MID TO LATE TWENTIES!”

(Y/N) falls down on the sofa face first, next to her father. He rubs her arm up and down in a soothing manner, trying to take the fall after her burst of warranted female rage.

“I apologise. I know, there is nothing I can do against all of what you just said. I also know, like you, that we are talking about a structural problem. It’s nothing that can be solved by a few words. It sucks, knowing that your right to vote is younger than the patent on the first motorised vehicle. It’s not right that you always have to stick up for your rights, while mine will never be threatened.

“Nothing about all of this is fair. That I have to raise you in a way to remind you that any man out there could hurt you. It’s not fair that you have to go tell other men making advances at you about an imaginary boyfriend, because they rather believe in the legitimation of a fake male than your no. That you have to say no more than once, just because someone wants to “make sure you really mean it”.

“I can’t do anything right now that will satisfy you.

“But I can promise you that I will always listen to you. Listen to what makes you mad about this system. I will listen to other people, telling me how the patriarchy failed them. I promise to uplift the women in my life, give credit where it’s due and try to be the best feminist I can be.

But you need to promise me to tell me how I can support you the best in a world that wants to diminish your opinion, your rights and you. Can we do that?”

A short moment of silence gives Spencer the opportunity to think about instances, where he had to endure how (Y/N) being born female made her life more difficult. May it be boys pulling your hair on the playground and the teacher saying that they show love in this abusive way. May it be being called emotional or being told to stop being dramatic while talking about her problems. May it be in simply enjoying stereotypical girly things and being called basic because of that.

“Yes, I promise, I’ll keep you in check. And if you start rambling about how men are superior, I’ll ship you off to the worst retirement home I can find,” (Y/N) says, voice a bit muffled by the couch pillows.

The family continues sitting in silence, the feeling of deep and utter unfairness seeping into their bones.

If you have come this far, please consider a reblog or a comment. Not holding you at gunpoint or anything, but it would be pretty neat.

All works:

@venomsvl @kneelforloki @ssa-uglywhore27 @bibissparkles

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

General Spencer Reid:

@mayoanddelight (sunny, you seriously need to tell me when you change your url, this list had such an old one in it)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer reid #x reader #criminal minds #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfiction #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #x female!reader

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ourautumn86 · 7 months

Note

okay hear me out abby x tattoo artist reader!!

okay hear me out 🩷 (so much fluff!!)

tattoo love

abby anderson x fem! reader

abby who is just starting to get her tattoos years after finally getting into medicine. (she’s become a re known surgeon and so her skills finally being recognized, she doesn’t need to keep ‘images’, so after years of suffering and hard work she finally gets her first tattoo appointment’)

abby who, mindlessly scrolling though instagram, finds your account and falls in love with how beautiful you tattoo and decides that if she’s going to get a tattoo her first should be yours.

abby the pretty girl that hits you up with a ‘hey! i just wanted to say that i really love your art and was wondering if i could book an appointment with you! :)’

abby who smiles widely when you hit her back with a ‘sure! what are you looking for? :)’

abby who sends you pictures of little tattoos that her friend ellie had made for her and quotes that she loves with which she would like to do a sleeve. minimalistic, all black and white and small. she even had one for her mother, who had sadly passed away years prior.

abby who blushes when you tell her that the artwork is beautiful and that she’s really brave to go all in due to this being her first time being tattooed.

abby the nervous wreck who keeps spacing out during work due to how excited she is.

abby the tall pretty blonde that sits on your waiting area for you to finish your prior appointment to go inside.

abby the intelligent surgeon who flushes when she sees you, all smiles and pretty with skin littered in tattoos.

abby the clumsy mess that makes an scene when you call out for her and she quickly sits up, hitting the center table on her way to you and making the magazines on top of it fall to the floor.

abby the apologizing wreck who can’t stop saying sorry as she kneels and starts to pick them up, cheeks, neck and ears going all red when you help her and your hands meet. shit. was she a fucking teenager?

abby, the amazing surgeon that forgets how breathing works when you smile at her. where were the lungs again?

abby, who sits silently, with wide puppy eyes as you explain everything that will happen during then session, show her everything you’ll be using and their function. you were like a surgeon, but for tattoos. and she liked that.

abby, who listens to you as you try and distract her from being nervous as you get everything ready by showing her some of your art and who silently thanks you for doing so.

abby, who realized it doesn’t hurt that bad and joins into a soft easy conversation with you.

abby, who you learn about a lot in that hour and a half —you two had accorded on meeting up the next day to finish up her sleeve—. by the end of the session you know that she’s a general surgeon, that her mother passed very early on her life, that her father is the most important person in her life, that she also has a dog name alice and that she really loves snow drops and lilies.

abby anderson, who can’t wait to meet you again and ends up laying awake all night, ending up slightly dozing off on the second appointment. of course you didn’t tell her, you didn’t mind. she looked so adorable with her pretty blue eyes all droopy in sleep…

abby_anderson, who posts you to her instagram stories once her sleeve is complete and who you end up following that same night ‘cause… maybe you found her too cute for your own good.

abby_anderson, account that you spend eyeing for hours. she seemed to really love hitting the gym, finding time to go every morning early before her shifts. and she was…, hot. her muscles were huge. you found so cute how gentle she was compared to her exterior, all scary and strong. she also posted about books she’d read, and films she’d watch with her friends.

abigail, better known as abby, who hits you up a few days later telling you how happy she is with the result of your work and how she’d love to invite you to a cup of coffee to thank you. you of course said yes.

abby the blushing mess that takes you for a walk on the park, buys you coffee and with who you spend the whole day talking and walking around, going for dinner that same night. also the flushed wreck that asks you if it’d be okay to meet up with you again.

abby, the gentle general surgeon that texts you in between shifts and in her free time and that cups your cheeks and softly kisses you under the stars on your third date.

abby anderson, with who you now lived and with who you’re two years in in the most perfect and beautiful relationship you’ve ever had.

and all because of a tattoo.

a/n; so cute :(

#abby x reader #tlou abby #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x fem! reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x fem!reader

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ordowrites · 21 days

Text

wants, desires

cw: afab reader (pronouns not used), slight not sfw content, mentions of masturbation (m), mentions of oral (f. receiving), mdni, minors do not interact, pining, yearning, fantasizing, self indulgent. slight fluff. no established relationship. slow burn. the reader is not the Traveler, the reader is a Vision user. slightly ooc. fade to black.

word count: 2,781

diluc month!!! i love this man and i wish to squish his cheeks between my hands. tbh for as much as i love to imagine him suave, i feel like he's the type to long and pine before awkwardly try to romance someone. i'm sorry for the length of this fic, i got carried away.

Diluc is a gentleman, he is known for his polite way of talking, and perhaps his standoff-ish personality but he is, all around, a gentleman. Raised in nobility, Diluc was taught how to behave and act accordingly, even if he found some of the rules to be stifling. He remembers his father once telling him that there are even proper and acceptable way to court someone (man or woman, so long as he did it properly, it would be alright).

He never listened to those rules much because he always figured he wouldn't need to court someone, after all, arranged marriages were still very common and everyone had assumed he and Jean would be marrying each other (until she turned down his spur of the moment marriage proposal with a polite smile and multiple apologies). After his father died, Diluc had decided that his life was too dangerous to bring someone else into it. Nobody has seen the hell he'd seen and he wishes to keep it that way.

Until you came into the picture, your smile rivaling the sun and your laugh infectious. You came here from Fontaine, is what you explained, showing your encased Vision. You worked for The Steambird for awhile but decided to move back to your late parents home nation of Mondstadt, because your father had always spoke so wistfully of it. So, you'd quit your nice and cushy reporter job and joined the Adventurer's Guild and are now able to work at its branch in Mondstadt.

He'd memorized every detail you shared with him, because you were just so fascinating to him. Diluc hated the way Kaeya's arm slung around your shoulders as if the two of you have been buddies your entire lives. Rosaria barely graces you with attention, simply electing to enjoy her drink with two extroverts intent on disrupting her peaceful night. You do not care for any rude putdown, allowing it all to roll off your shoulders.

When Kaeya becomes too drunk - supposedly - to carry on a decent conversation with you, Diluc picks up the slack. It's awkward and uncomfortable at first. Your name is sweet in his mouth, he tastes it and swirls it around some and fears that if he speaks it, he may taint it.

Interacting with you was a different level for him, it was strange because you were the first one in his life to make him lose his footing, make him lose his breath, and make him nervous. But not in the same way Adelinde makes him nervous when she places her hands on his hips and gives him a disapproving stare when he tracks blood and mud on her clean floors, not in the way Jean makes him nervous when she challenges some of his more intense ideals. This nervous was different, like if he messes up, that's it. His words are carefully chosen, he practices your name every morning, trying to get used to saying it in hopes that if he sees you around, he can call out to you like it's a normal, every day occurance.

And he does see you around sometimes, in the green uniform assigned by the Adventurer's Guild (truly, you would look much better in the clothes he could provide if you were his-) but you're always too busy to stop and engage in conversation. This does not stop you from waving at him, acknowledging his presence when he accidentally stops and stares for a little bit too long. Sometimes he gawks like a teenage boy and he can't help himself.

Diluc is a gentleman, he knows better than to have thoughts about you - it feels wrong when you creep into his mind too late at night and leave him wanting. His hand around his cock, his fingers working quick as he guiltily thinks what you might look like undone because of him. Wonders what you might taste like, how your legs would quiver around his shoulders while his tongue laps hungrily at your folds, and wonders what you'd sound like when you call out his name in desperation.

When those nights happen, he can't even look at you in the eyes when he sees you next. Diluc knows all of this is normal, but it doesn't feel normal for him.

He has your favorite drink memorized - you aren't a heavy drinker, alcohol wasn't much of a thing in Fontaine unlike coffee and tea. So, always one drink, nothing heavy, but it you like it sweet and fruity. Unlike Kaeya, he lets you have a free drink every once in awhile, tries to relish in the way you look at him with wide eyes and a bright smile. Tries to ignore the way his heart pounds and his breath quickens when you thank him. (You could ask him for the entire world and he will try to get it for you)

Diluc tries to recall all the lessons his father gave him on romance and dating, realizes that many of those lessons are a bit outdated and perhaps, would not work on someone like you. He considers asking Adelinde before deciding that he didn't want the third degree from his head housemaid (who is more like a mother to him).

So, he elects to watch you from afar - learn your likes and dislikes because talking to you is somehow harder than fighting a Mirror Maiden or being involved with a particularly difficult business partner.

And it dawns on him how stupidly mundane and normal it is to have a crush on someone. Diluc wasn't ever sure he was capable of normal. He can't do things normally and he's come to accept this at some point.

By some happenstance, he learns of your favorite flower and orders a bunch of them to be sent to you - anonymously, of course. Although, he wishes he could have your attention when they arrive at your doorstep from Fontaine, wondering if you're happy to receive them or not.

"Someone sent me flowers," you mention to him, one evening. Lately, you've been coming around more and more without Kaeya with you. You've made your own little group of friends here, easily fitting right in and he always tries to imagine where his place would be in your group of friends and it always spirals to him as your partner, your beloved. Your husband. "The note that came with it was very sweet, but I wish that it wasn't anonymous so I could thank them. I've been missing Fontaine recently."

Diluc swallows the lump in his throat, clears his throat - a strange nervous habit he has.

"Would that not take the romance out of it?" When you give him a strange look, he feels his face grow a bit hot. "I mean, I hear some of the maids talk about how they'd love to have a secret admirer, something about it being more romantic."

"Master Diluc," you gasp. "Are you, perhaps, a secret fan of romance novels?"

"Did I not just tell you I only hear these things from the maids?"

You smile a bit. "You're hard to tease, you know that?"

"My apologies." You blink, confused and he clears his throat again. "So, who do you think might have sent you those flowers?"

You open your mouth to say something, possibly another teasing comment before deciding against it. "I'm not sure," you admit. "I don't often have romantic entanglements. I had one partner back in Fontaine and it ended up as a disaster. We were colleagues and it was so stupid." You sigh. "He was never the type to buy me flowers."

Diluc makes note that he will spoil you proper with flowers when you become his.

After a few weeks, he orders you another batch of flowers - this time a mix of your favorite and another common flower from Fontaine. Rainbow Rose, pretty pink roses that he pictures would liven up the manor, and be in abundance at the wedding the two of you could have.

No, he has to tell himself. You can't get that far.

"What is on your mind tonight?" Diluc asks as he makes your favorite drink. You look at him, as if trying to read him. "That secret admirer of yours again?"

"Yeah. Flowers, again." You say. "No note this time, which is disappointing." You rub your forehead. "Master Diluc, what would you do if you have the feeling some anonymous person was trying to court you?" Diluc gets the feeling you're fishing for answers.

"That has never been a concern of mine." He tells you. "Most women who try to catch my attention are never discreet about it."

"You make it sound like that's the worst possible thing in the world."

"If they were not doing this simply so their fathers could secure a better business deal with the Dawn Winery, I suppose I wouldn't mind it." He doesn't dislike it but none of those women ever really hold his attention, although he's entertained a few of them in his time, the courting never went beyond a few meetings before they'd decide he just wasn't for them.

"You don't strike me as the type to like being given that kind of attention," you admit. "Ever the evasive and strange Master Diluc. Perhaps I have you pegged all wrong."

"Oh?"

"Mm," you say as you take a sip of your drink. "Rich men tend to throw their money and power around to garner themselves a romantic partner. Honestly, it's gross."

"Well, I have never seen the point in doing so." Diluc answers, bluntly, feeling a bit insulted you'd even thought of him that way. "So tell me, then, how do you like to be courted?"

"Well, for starters, as lovely as the secret admirer thing is, I prefer if someone can actually tell me if they have feelings for me," you inform him. "Anonymous flowers once is nice, twice will have me wondering if they even respect my time."

"Ah - would you like other gifts then?"

"No - well, I don't - ugh, that's hard to answer." You push your hair back and he loves the way it falls around your face. He loves that, even though you don't get drunk, you can get a bit more relaxed and looser with your words as you drink. "I mean, I'd like if the person who is...trying to court me as you say, would just tell me and do it properly."

"I see."

"Have you never been in a romantic relationship before, Master Diluc?" Maybe you do know and he should come clean. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbling.

Once, he thinks. Jean and I had this whole fake wedding when we were kids. But that doesn't count.

"Not really, no."

"Oh."

In this moment, he desires to lean over the counter and kiss you. See what you taste like with remnants of that fruity drink on your lips, if you would get angry or if you would lean into the kiss. He desires for his hands to wander, for you to invite him to touch you even further -

"Aw, drinking without me, my delightful friend?"

"Evening, Captain."

"Kaeya."

Diluc is a gentleman, and he is quite the heartbreaker, he knows this. He'd sent many noble women crying by accident - rejection hurts or his indifference is worse. Adelinde would scold him many times for it, reminding him that he should still be considerate of their feelings. But it's never his fault that they get upset for being told he's not interested.

With you, he has fantasized about kissing you, dramatic love confessions (because apparently those are a thing in romance novels from what he's heard Hillie and Mocco say as they worked), or just simply telling you, but it feels wrong to simply confess.

This pining is getting him nowhere, and he worries about sending you more flowers and earning your ire instead.

So, at the advice of Adelinde - after he tried to lamely claim it was Kaeya who was looking for the advice - he starts to write you letters. Many, but none quite fit what he feels. He can give you all the flowery words in the world, but they are not succinct enough. Diluc isn't exactly the best at words, not like Kaeya, who can have both men and women swooning very quickly. He's always held the attention and engagement of crowds and Diluc finds himself envious of that.

Finally, he elects to do something so stupidly simple.

He writes you a letter in the dead of night, exhausted from a days work, requesting if he could court you properly this time around. And he sends it.

Because of course he did.

Because that's what a proper gentleman should do, right?

You are late for your weekly visit to his tavern, and Diluc finds himself wishing he had Charles manning the bar tonight instead of him. Though why should he be acting like a lovesick schoolboy? He is a grown man.

An hour goes by, and you're not in your usual spot and he fears he may have driven you off with that letter that never should have been sent in the first place.

When you do finally arrive, it's an hour before closing and you look beat. But your smile, when you see him, is still as radiant as the sun (though perhaps that's him imagining things, he doesn't know anymore).

"You're...late." Diluc observes as you half slump in your seat, bag dropping to your side. "Are you okay?" Perhaps you haven't read his letter and that's why everything is almost relatively normal.

"I'm okay," you finally answer as he starts to make your drink. "Sorry I'm here an hour before you close, it's been a long day."

He sets the glass down in front of you. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

"Tsarvitch is such an asshole," you grumble. "Tsarvitch? More like Tsarbitch."

"Yes, I hear he can be a bit difficult." You lapse into a silence, watching him. "Do you wish to talk about something else?" You reach down, grabbing your bag and pulling out an envelope with the Winery's wax seal in blue. He has to look away.

"I received this letter from the Dawn Winery," you tell him, pointing to the blue wax seal and the return address. You pull the letter out of the envelope, and it's clear you've read it multiple times since he sent it a week ago. "From someone asking if they could properly court me." He doesn't want to look at the contents of that letter, he was deliriously tired when he wrote it. "Who, at the Dawn Winery, could have sent this?"

"I'm-"

"How come you didn't sign your name?" Diluc can't answer that. He doesn't remember what was going through his head. "My answer, though, Master Diluc, is yes. You can properly court me."

His heart pounds in his chest as he meets your eyes. Of course, the answer was so simple - Archons, why couldn't he have done this in the first place? A few whole months wasted, when he could have spent it with you in his arms.

"Are you sure? I'm-"

"I'm sure." You interrupt. It's not often someone of nobility seeks to date someone who is not a noble, but he can't help it. Diluc just hopes that they won't eat you alive, though he has a feeling you can handle your own when it comes to the more judgmental types. He may have to protect them from you.

"In that case," Diluc says, hoping he won't scare you away. "May I kiss you?"

"Always."

He delights in your answer, moving to step outside of the counter so the damn thing isn't in his way so he can fully and properly enjoy you. He cups your face between his hands, bending down some and pressing your lips together. Soft, sweet - Diluc is a selfish man sometimes and he longs for more when you break away.

You whisper something as he pulls you back in for another kiss. Your hands wrap around his shoulders and entangle in his hair. A small part of him longs to lift you up and take you on the counter, but he needs to take this slow. He is a gentleman after all, properly court before bringing you to bed with him.

Yet, you refuse to let the kiss end this time around, chasing after him.

"I want you," you whisper. "Diluc."

"No dinner first?"

"Ugh, you can make me breakfast instead." That was all he needed for him to quickly close down the tavern. Diluc is a gentleman after all, and it'd be rude to keep you waiting.

#diluc #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #diluc imagines #diluc x fem!reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #ordo.text #ordo.txt #diluc ragnvindr

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