#i knew that these were going to be for a tabloid edit when i took them

[bluelockmaniac]

𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒

୨ৎ ft. itoshi sae x actress!reader (fem)

synopsis. when football star itoshi sae randomly names you as his celebrity crush, the internet goes wild with rumours. what happens when you decide to make a surprise appearance during his next interview?

notes. thanks anon for the suggestion ! the editing process took quite a while bc i had to search for so many synonyms and celebrity-dazzling-type of vocabulary, and just a bit of research & idioms, lol (like tell me why i didn't know what filmography was??).

word count. 1.7k

𝐓𝐇𝐄 first thing that grated on sae’s nerves was the endless string of interviews he had to endure after every victory. the second were the interviewers, who seemed to lack any sense of boundaries or respect of privacy all together. but the third and perhaps most exasperating thing sae loathed were the questions– particularly those who left him completely clueless.

how on earth was he supposed to provide this nosy interviewer with the name of his celebrity crush when he didn't even have one?

besides, sae’s social awareness was practically nonexistent. his mind was consumed by football– matches, practice sessions, training drills, and occasionally, thoughts of his brother. naming a celebrity was as foreign to him as the idea of reconciling with rin.

he had tried to dodge the infuriating question, really. but his attempt was thwarted by the exaggerated glare of his manager, whose expression screamed ‘make. up. any. name’.

the older itoshi sighed, eyeing the lady who had posed the stupid, intrusive question from the side. to the untrained eye, it might have appeared that he was merely stalling, which, in truth, he sort of was. but on the inside, he was actually scrambling to conjure up any random name.

then, as if the goddess of luck intervened, a blurry image of you materialized in his mind. he recalled catching a glimpse of you while riding in his personal chauffeur-driven car.

your recognizable face had adorned a massive, wide billboard advertisement. you looked too striking– too gorgeous– to forget. you were holding a rose perfume bottle next to your shoulder, smiling with such infectious brightness. luckily, his eyes had happened to drift to the bottom left corner, where your name was elegantly inscribed in cursive.

y/n l/n.

anyone familiar with the entertainment industry would no doubt recognize your name immediately. you were a standout actress in hollywood, notably known for your phenomenal acting skills and breathtaking beauty. your filmography– the number of movies you've starred in– was extensive, and your trophy shelf in your large mansion was filled to the brim with numerous awards.

“itoshi-san?” the interviewer prompted again, her pesky voice cutting through his trance as she set her coffee mug on the table. she repeated her question, “there's nothing to be embarrassed about, haha– we’ve all had celebrity crushes at some point. who’s yours?”

sae scoffed lightly, leaning back onto the couch and propping his elbow on the armrest. he hid his face behind his hand, attempting to mask his discomfort.

“y/n.” he muttered, his voice laced with forced nonchalance.

the words slipped from his lips with shame. he knew this embarrassing revelation would literally dominate the headlines by nightfall, and he could hardly brace himself. he actually felt a teeny bit of guilt for dragging you into the main focus of the public’s attention alongside him. by tomorrow morning, his phone would be buzzing with notifications about this becoming the top trending topic on social media.

heck, he could already envision the misleading headlines in the tabloids:

alleged hidden affair: football prodigy itoshi sae and actress y/n l/n rumored to be in secret relationship– what’s really going on?

the interviewer let out an exaggerated gasp, her hands flying to her mouth as she exchanged a gleeful look with the cameraman.

“d-did you get that on tape? this will certainly make the headlines!”

she turned back to sae, who was still averting his gaze awkwardly. “j-just to be sure, itoshi-san… you’re talking about y/n l/n, correct?”

sae mumbled something inaudible under his breath before finally meeting her eyes, realizing it’s better to save face than to prolong his embarrassment live on camera.

“yes, her,” he replied with a shrug, rolling his eyes. he seriously had no idea who you were, what you did, or why you were famous. “she's cute, i guess.”

the interviewer beamed, leaning in enthusiastically. “—absolutely, her beauty is nothing short of enchanting! which of her shows or movies did you enjoy the most?”

so you were an actress, he thought, narrowing his eyes at the woman. he had absolutely no clue about any of your work. resorting to his typical bluntness, he retorted,

“none of your business. shut up.” he turned his head towards his manager, who looked as if he was about to cry literal tears of joy. “this interview is over. let's go.”

a few weeks had passed, and just as sae had predicted, rumours of a secret affair between him and you had exploded across the internet. yet, they remained just that– rumours. neither of you had addressed them… perhaps because there was no need to.

sae had just secured another effortless victory and was now being chauffeured to the interview venue. as he passed the familiar billboard, his eyes wandered, searching for your eyes, only to find that your advertisement had been replaced by some no-name, cheap milk brand’s.

—

as usual, he handled the post-match questions with ease. they were always the same, tedious inquiries: “how do you feel about your performance today?”, “could you describe the pivotal moments in today's match?”, “how did teamwork play a role in the game?”, “one fan asked…”, and so on.

however, this time, the midfielder felt slightly uneasy— the camera crew seemed larger, with cameras on every angle of the room. the interviewer, the same lady from before, appeared unusually excited. her voice was squeaker and she fiddled faintly as she spoke.

finally, she asked the final question regarding the opposition team’s strategies and approaches.

“hmph. we barely broke a sweat today; their game plan was so weak and predictable it was almost laughable. we could have won with our eyes closed.”

she nodded, almost dismissively, as if she couldn’t wait to wrap up the interview and get to the next part of the show.

“incredible, exactly what we’d expect from japan’s prodigious player! now, for all our online viewers, get ready to tune into GoalTalk’s special event! tonight, we're thrilled to welcome a very special guest who will be joining us…”

sae quirked an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued as he watched the crew reposition the numerous cameras to focus on the entrance door, though a few lenses remained trained on him.

“... y/n l/n!”

you stepped onto the platform as soon as your name was announced, waving to the countless cameras flashing blinding lights in your direction. you were dressed in a long, flowing burgundy gown that accentuated your curves perfectly. you exuded elegance; the very epitome of grace.

sae's eyes widened in surprise, tracking your movements as you made your way to the seat beside him.

“fucking bullshit, you’ve got to be kidding me…” he groaned, throwing his head back against the couch’s backrest, his adam’s apple bobbing. 

you let out a soft giggle, settling beside him so that your thighs brushed against his. with a gentle tap on his shoulder, you flashed a practiced smile as he turned to look at you. 

“it’s such an honour to finally meet you, itoshi! i’m actually a huge fan, so you could imagine my excitement when you mentioned i was your celebrity crush in your recent interview.”

he cringed inwardly, having heard similar compliments from noisy fangirls countless times before. besides, you were a renowned actress; for all he knew, your cheerful expressions and excitement could be part of a well-rehearsed facade.

“ah. thanks, i guess,” he shrugged, clicking his tongue before adding nonchalantly, “...you’re a good actress.”

“oh, thank you! i appreciate it.” you leaned in slightly, your smile widening, “hey, you know, i wouldn't mind giving you my number. we could maybe… figure things out?~”

“what–” his leg began to bounce subtly. perhaps it was the effect of being an actress who had participated in a multitude of romance movies and shows– such flirtatious comments tend to slip naturally from your lips.

“you wouldn’t mind, would you? you’re single, right?” you pressed, propping your chin on his shoulder. 

fuck. your face was so close– so close he could understand why people called you stunning. you were infinitely more beautiful than the artificial, edited image on the billboard. your sweet scent of exotic fruit, reminiscent of a hot summer day on the beach, wafted to his nose. his eyes wandered to your cherry-stained, glossed lips, feeling a strange, inexplicable magnetic pull.

but he sighed defeatedly, feeling his manager’s intense yet pleased gaze boring into him. “i guess. don’t expect anything, though,” he dismissed, reaching up to ruffle his reddish hair. everything was alright. he just needed to get through this interview.

little did either of you know– or perhaps you had a vague idea– that social media was already ablaze with an endless amount of comments from hundreds of thousands of fans from both sides, shipping you two together.

you nudged him playfully with your elbow and turned your head, winking at the cameras as you slyly slipped your hand into his. “i’m getting his number, sorry girls.”

he felt his breath catch in his throat, his fingers remaining numb in your grasp. but suddenly, a strange surge of boldness overwhelmed his usually rational senses– he was already doomed, anyway, so why seem like a lame pushover? his hand reciprocated your grip, intertwining his fingers with yours as he leaned in slightly. his lips brushed over your ear as he whispered a few, short words, eyeing one camera directly with a subtle smirk.

you felt your cheeks bloom with warmth at his words. all the cameras in the venue captured the sight of your eyes widening in surprise and the visceral nodding of your head to whatever he had just said.

his words would remain a secret to the public however, even as the internet flooded with speculations and questions, triggered by a sensational headline featuring a photo of the two of you together:

𝑯𝑶𝑻 𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹? 𝑱𝑨𝑷𝑨𝑵’𝑺 𝑭𝑶𝑶𝑻𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 𝑰𝑻𝑶𝑺𝑯𝑰 𝑺𝑨𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝒀/𝑵 𝑳/𝑵 𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑳 𝑻𝑶𝑮𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹, 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑰𝑵 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫!

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Never Say Never| Pt1

Warnings: Cursing

Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

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You and Hyunjin had always been a passionate couple, with emotions running high in both good and bad times. It was something that you had yearned for- being in a relationship as passionate as a gasoline fueled flame; but in time you had realized what you had was both a blessing and a curse.

The day had started out like any other, but a simmering tension had been building up for weeks, ready to boil over.

Simple things had been irritating you both, yet you were too afraid to communicate those things in fear of causing issues.

You had just returned home from running some errands when you noticed the look on Hyunjin's face as he stared intently at something on the screen of his phone.

"Hey, I'm back," you called out, placing your bag on the kitchen counter. You had left the dorms earlier to run out and pick up a few things you intended to use to cook the guys dinner, running to a few other places as well throughout the late morning until early evening.

Hyunjin didn't respond right away, his side turned to you as he scrolled through his phone. You sensed something was off but decided to ignore it for now, too anxious of a person to start confrontations.

"How was your day?" you asked, trying to keep the mood light.

He turned around, a frown creasing his forehead. "Did you see this?" he asked, showing you an article from Dispatch.

You glanced at the screen and sighed. "Yeah, I saw it. They're always making up rumors and releasing things. You know that." The headline read:

STRAY KIDS HYUNJIN DATING FOREIGN NON-IDOL?

Hyunjin's frustration was palpable. "It's not just rumors this time, Y/N. They have photos of us together, and they're saying you're a distraction to my career." He rushed a hand through his hair. "And this isn't the first time its happened. Remember when you took my Instagram pictures but forget to edit your reflection out of the mirror? Thankfully it was just your shoulder, but you've put us in multiple situations because of stupid mistakes you make. Like the photo in the article-" He shows his phone to you. "Everyone knew I was doing an isolated photoshoot. None of the other members were there and I said you could come but to be careful when leaving so you aren't seen at the shooting scene. But rather you aren't careful and they have a picture of you in my varsity jacket."

You sigh in frustration. "Hyunjin, they don't even know what my face looks like! I always wear a hat and glasses and a mask and clothes that cover me up. I don't see the big deal in people speculating you being in a relationship! Just ignore it and it'll die down." You turn to go put some of the groceries away but Hyunjin spoke.

"I wasn't finished Y/N. You seem to think its that easy. I'm supposed to look desirable - attainable Y/N. I have to live the life of a bachelor even if it isn't the case."

You turn at the sound of his voice. You don't know if it was the flippant tone he used while saying something so dismissive or if it was because of how fed up you were of hiding but you scoffed.

You felt a mix of anger and hurt. "So, what? Am I not supposed to be around you because you need to feed into people's delusions? Are you expecting me to sit at home and pretend like we're nothing more than just two people who have mutual feelings but can't act on them because of fanservice? All because of a tabloid article?"

He ran a hand through his hair again, clearly agitated. "It's not that simple. My career is on the line here. The fans, the company—they all have expectations."

Your temper flared. "And what about my expectations, Hyunjin? Does that not matter?"

Hyunjin's eyes flashed with frustration. "Of course it matters, but we have to be realistic. You- this could ruin everything I've worked for."

You laughed humorlessly at Hyunjin's slip up. "So...me loving you is ruining your career?" You licked your lips and then puckered them in thought. "Makes sense. considering I was the one who said yes to your advances." Your voice has a biting sarcasm to it.

"Y/N don't start. You knew what you were getting into- I warned you about dating an idol."

You threw your hands up in exasperation. "This wouldn't even be an issue if you just disclosed our relationship! How many times have we had to sneak around and hide like we're doing something wrong? And you didn't warn me about this. Matter of fact you warned me about how people would act knowing you were in a relationship. They don't know shit Hyunjin, because you have yet to tell anyone other than the members about us. And they wouldn't have found out so quickly if it wasn't for Jisung being nosy and following you."

He scoffed. "Its common sense. You've lived here long enough to know not all relationships are disclosed right away. "

"You gave me the impression that you were going to inform people! It's been a year, Hyunjin! A fucking year."

"You know it's not that simple. Disclosing our relationship could have serious repercussions. I could lose everything I've worked for."

Your voice rose in frustration. "And what about me? Do you know how it feels to be kept a secret? To constantly worry about getting caught, about being labeled as a distraction or worse? Getting doxxed? At least if you told people they could be warned of legal reprecussions! Or maybe they would feel inclined to love someone their idol loves just out of decency. Not labeling us as a couple to the public is making things worse. Its making it hard for me-"

Hyunjin took a step closer, his frustration evident. "Do you think this is easy for me? I have to think about my career, my future. It's not just about us!" His voice was sharp and there was a hint of something underlying you weren't sure you had ever heard before.

You felt tears of anger and hurt welling up. "So, what? Am I just supposed to sit here and accept that I'll always come second to your career?"

He shook his head, his voice rising. "That's not what I'm saying. But you have to understand, this is my life. This is what I've worked so hard for. I can't just throw it all away."

"But you don't realize doing all of that is just slowly throwing me away?"

The argument escalated quickly, with both of you hurling accusations and past grievances at each other. Each word was a dagger, cutting deeper and deeper. And if emotions were blood you would have been dead by now.

"You never appreciate what I sacrifice for us," you shouted, tears streaming down your face. Your throat hurt from the past few minutes of the screaming match you and Hyunjin had been in. "I'm constantly worrying, constantly hiding! And for what?!"

Hyunjin's voice was equally loud, the frustration palpable. "And you think I don't make sacrifices?! Playing damage control all the fucking time! I'm getting tired!"

The room felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken hurts and unresolved issues. The argument had spiraled out of control, touching every sore spot in your relationship.

"You know what, Hyunjin?" you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Maybe we need some time apart."

His face fell, shock replacing the anger. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," you replied, feeling a strange mix of relief and heartbreak. "I can't do this anymore. I don't want to fight with you-"

Hyunjin's expression hardened. "I should have never asked you out in the first place. I guess I'm finally free from that mistake."

That sentence hung in the air, a cruel echo of his frustration and regret. The final blow to an already fragile situation.

You had intended for this to spark a moment of calm, so you could both take sometime to gather your thoughts and talk things out civilly rather than pierce each other.

You hadn't expected it go anything farther than that. Not a breakup.

You felt your heart shatter, and without another word, you turned and left the apartment. Tears streamed down your face as you walked away, leaving behind the life you had built together.

The immediate aftermath was a blur. You found yourself at your best friend's place, seeking solace and trying to make sense of what had just happened. The pain was overwhelming, and every memory of Hyunjin felt like a knife to your heart. Your friend welcomed you with open arms, offering a shoulder to cry on and a place to stay, since they doubted that you'd want to be where Hyunjin knew you'd be.

They made you a cup of tea and sat with you on the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You shook your head, the words stuck in your throat. "Not right now."

Your best friend nodded understandingly. "Take your time. I'm here for you. Whether you want to cry or be angry. Punch things, break things. Whatever makes you feel better. But for right now I'm gonna take this." They gently took your phone from your hands, entering your password and blocking the sultry eyed boy; already sensing that this turn of events wasn't a kind one.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin was left alone in dorms, staring at the space where you had stood before. Regret and anger battled within him, and he found himself replaying the argument over and over in his mind. He sat on the couch, head in his hands, wondering how things had gone so wrong. The words he had said echoed in his mind, each repetition amplifying his regret. "I should have never asked you out."

He knew he didn't mean it, but the damage was done. The love of his life had walked out the door, and he was left to face the consequences of his words.

He sat there ruminating on it, feeling his anger slowly melt away and turn into immense guilt and then a deep sadness that spurred an onslaught of tears when he heard the members arrive and Jeongin's voice ring out asking what you had made them for dinner.

Days turned into weeks and the void you left in his life grew more apparent with each passing day. He missed your laugh, your presence, the way you made everything feel better. But he also knew that the words he had said couldn't be taken back.

You, too, were struggling. The pain of the breakup was a constant companion, and you found it hard to focus on anything else. Your friends tried to comfort you, but nothing seemed to fill the emptiness you felt inside.

One evening, as you sat in your best friend's living room, staring at the boxes of the last few belongings you had yet to unpack in your new shared home. You couldn't help but think back to all the good times you and Hyunjin had shared. The way he used to make you breakfast in bed when you'd spend the night at the dorms, the late-night talks,. when you were and the spontaneous adventures you took- specifically the ones that were far from the public gaze where you didn't have to worry about hiding. It all seemed so distant now, yet so vivid.

BSF/N noticed your pensive mood and sat down beside you. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I miss him. I don't want to but I do. Its been months shouldn't I be over him?"

"You need to move on love. There are plenty of people who can love you better than he ever did." Your best friend stated with the conviction only that of an angry bestie could hold. "He may have been good but you can find better than that coward." You nodded along, grateful for your friend's unwavering support, but still fostering that seed of pain.

Hyunjin was grappling with his own feelings of regret and longing. He often found himself staring at his phone, contemplating whether to call you or text you. Even if he knew you had more than likely blocked him. He didn't dare text, because he didn't want to see the tangible answer to his biggest worry.

So instead threw himself into his work, using his busy schedule to distract himself from the gnawing emptiness. Rehearsals, recording sessions, and performances became his refuge. Yet, every time he stepped off stage or left the studio, the loneliness crept back in causing an ineffable ache throughout his entire being.

His friends and groupmates noticed the change in him. He was more withdrawn, quieter, his usual spark dimmed.

"Hey, you okay?" Felix asked one evening as they wrapped up practice. "You've been pretty out of it lately."

Hyunjin forced a smile. "Yeah, just tired."

Felix didn't look convinced but nodded anyway. "If you ever want to talk, you know I'm here, right? You never...really told us what happened...we want to be here to support you, you know?"

"Thanks," Hyunjin muttered, his thoughts already drifting back to you.

Nights were the hardest for the both of you. Alone in the quiet darkness, memories of Hyunjin haunted you. You didn't have his voice to fall asleep to, neither did he have your soft snores. You would often wake up, reaching out for you, to see if he was still on the line. Only to find a dark screen, only occasionally lit up with the random spam notification you got throughout the night. The ache in your chest felt unbearable, and more than once, you found yourself sobbing into your pillow, wishing things had turned out differently.

Hyunjin wasn't faring any better. He would lie awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying every argument, every mistake. The guilt and regret weighed heavily on him, making sleep elusive. He missed the sound of your voice, the feel of your hand in his, the comfort of your presence.

One night, unable to bear it any longer, Hyunjin found himself walking through the city streets, lost in thought. The bustling noise of the city was a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him. He found himself standing outside your favorite café, staring through the window at the place where you'd shared so many happy moments. The happiest one being the moment he had first saw you, smiling at the register happily as a new hire taking his order- only to see the cutest face of disgust he had ever seen at the mention of the word Americano.

It was a stupid way to fall, but wasn't love stupid?

The days dragged on, and the pain didn't lessen. It became a constant, dull ache that colored everything you did. Friends and family tried to pull you out of your shell, but nothing seemed to help. The weight of Hyunjin's words lingered, a reminder of how things had fallen apart.

One particularly rough day, you received a message from your workplace. Your performance had been slipping, and they were concerned. It was a harsh wake-up call, a reminder that life was still moving forward even if you felt stuck in place.

You tried to throw yourself into work, hoping it would distract you from the pain. But every little thing reminded you of Hyunjin. The music playing in the background, a passing comment from a colleague, even the smell of coffee—all of it brought memories of him rushing back.

Hyunjin, too, was struggling to keep up appearances. He would smile for the cameras, perform with his usual energy, but behind the scenes, he was a mess. His bandmates grew increasingly worried, their attempts to cheer him up falling flat.

The breaking point came one night after a particularly grueling performance. Hyunjin had given it his all on stage, but as soon as the lights went down, the emptiness hit him like a tidal wave. He retreated to his dressing room, shutting the door behind him.

He sank to the floor, head in his hands, and let the tears fall. The loneliness, the regret, the pain—it all came crashing down. He missed you more than words could express, but he didn't know how to make things right.

Your breaking point was the night you sat alone in your apartment - BSF/N on a business trip -staring at your phone. Watching the birthday live you would have never been allowed to watch if your roommate was home. The ache was too unbearable, and sparked your motivation to finally let go so you could be free from it.

Once you had hit 3 months without Hyunjin, the pain began to change. It didn't lessen, but it became a part of you, a background noise that you learned to live with. You went through the motions of daily life, but the joy and spark you once had were dulled. But as 3 months turned to 6 months which then turned to 9 months, it was almost a distant memory. And you were able to laugh again, the hollowness of your cheeks disappearing and becoming flushed with youth and your noticeable dimples once more.

Hyunjin's friends and bandmates continued to support him, but they could see the toll it was taking. He was a shadow of his former self, his passion dulled by the heartbreak. It was unnoticeable to the public - to them he seemed fine, they just minimized his dull eyes to exhaustion rather than depression. But to his best friends, it was as clear as day how hard he worked to push through every day.

"Hyunjin," Chan said one evening, pulling him aside. "You can't keep going like this. You need to start living again."

Hyunjin shook his head. "I can't move on...what if they come back- what if - what if they take me back?"

"You're never going to know unless you try talking to them," Chan urged. "You owe it to yourself, to both of you, to at least try. Seungmin has seen Y/N around. They've talked and he says it seems like Y/N is struggling as well. Even if you don't get back together, if you become friends again first..." Chan sighed. "Seungmin asked Y/N to unblock you. So I'd try reaching out."

But Hyunjin couldn't bring himself to reach out. The fear of making things worse, of hearing that you had moved on, was too much to bear. So, he continued to suffer in silence, the weight of his regret a constant burden.

For you, moving on felt impossible at first.

One evening an old friend was hosting a small get-together and wanted you to come. It was a chance to get out, to try and find some semblance of normalcy.

You had reluctantly agreed. The evening was a blur of faces and conversations, none of which seemed to penetrate the fog of your indifference until and old crush had sparked conversation with you...

Back in his apartment, Hyunjin stared at his phone, fingers hovering over your contact. He wanted to reach out, to apologize, to try and make things right. But the fear of rejection, of causing you more pain, held him back.

He set the phone down with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. The silence of the apartment was deafening, each minute feeling like an hour. He missed you more than words could express, but he didn't know how to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

But in a spur of confidence he sent you a message. Simply apologizing as asking if it would be okay to meet up as friends.

Because he needed you in his life in some manner. He knew he couldn't live without you. And he would be content with loving you quietly, unknowingly, putting on a mask of platonic affection if it meant you'd stay around.

Which seemed to be what he would have to do, after recieving your response.

He didn't know whether to cry tears or joy or pain.

Because while you had agreed to meet him again, to spark a new relationship with him - he immediately regretted ever harboring a hope of you loving him again.

Especially after seeing your profile in his feed for the first time in a long time, causing him to wish he hadn't reached out, wish you hadn't unblocked him- wish you weren't so kind and loving to agree to be his friend again.

Because no amount of time with you, no amount of your presence could ever be enough to even cover a fraction of the pain he felt seeing a new face in your feed.

A face that mimicked the exact face he had in your company.

Eyes that mirrored the exact sentiment and display of love he felt.

The face of one who knew the one they loved was the moon in a world full of stars.

And he knew from experience just how easy it would be for you to fall for someone who gave you that-

Considering he had been that person for you once...

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @dreammix88

[littlexdeaths]

blondes do have more fun - e.m.

y2k eddie munson x girly reader

warnings: robin and reader get so drunk, reader is too clumsy for her own good

opposites attract masterlist

a/n: another edit and repost of this y2k series. this was the second blurb i ever wrote for them and it was heavily inspired by that one scene in 10 things i hate about you, iykyk. enjoy babes 💕

word count: 1.2k

It was an impulse decision.

So of course he would be surprised.

If you were being honest, you were a little scared to see Eddie’s reaction. Which was why you asked Nancy to tag along with you to the hair salon. Knowing she would give you her honest opinion either way.

It took over two hours to get your locks to the bleach blonde perfection you desired. Keeping your eyes off of the mirror during the entire process due to your nerves. So when the stylist finally spun your chair around, you were genuinely shocked as you fell in love upon meeting your reflection.

You had never done much with your hair over the years, besides the occasional haircut. But you were itching to try out something new. Finding yourself inspired by your latest obsession, Legally Blonde.

You had dragged Eddie to see it with you in theaters more times than you cared to admit— but he never once complained.

He had actually enjoyed it, even making a comment or two about how he thought Reese Witherspoon was pretty. Which got the wheels in your head turning, leading you into a salon chair with bleach covering your head.

“It looks amazing, hun,” Nancy gushed as you left the salon, arms linked together as you ventured deeper into the Starcourt Mall.

There was a new air of confidence about you as you walked, sipping on Orange Julius’ smoothies. You all but dragged her into Wet Seal to help you find the perfect outfit for later. Steve was hosting yet another rager, which had become a recurring weekend event amongst your friend group.

After many trips to the fitting room (and an impromptu fashion show), you eventually walked out of the mall with a mini black dress and matching pair of platform sandals.

You decided to keep this new look under wraps for the rest of the day, waiting until Steve’s party to reveal it to everyone.

As you walked into the male’s home you kept your head high, pushing through the crowd of tipsy college kids to find your friends. Eddie was going to meet you here after band practice had wrapped up. But you couldn’t help but feel your nerves stirring in your stomach.

What if he hated it?

Logically you knew it didn’t matter, it was your hair after all. But you still wanted him to like it nonetheless.

You spotted Robin and Steve in the living room, bounding over to them with a smile. They were clearly in the middle of a squabble of some sort, but Robin’s face lights up once she sees you.

It was quite obvious she was already wasted, her cheeks thoroughly flushed as she stumbled towards you. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, attempting to reign her back in but she easily shrugs him off.

“Oh my god, Nance told me it looked good. But it’s way better than I could’ve imagined!” She squealed, pulling you into a hug as you just laughed.

She leans closer to your ear, hanging onto your arm for support, “Dude… Eddie is gonna lose it. It’s giving Pam Anderson and Elle Woods— you look hot.”

You felt your cheeks warm from her words, as Steve is finally able to tug her off of you with an annoyed expression. You hadn’t even thought about that, taking a glance down at your attire. It was very reminiscent of an outfit you’d seen Ms. Anderson sporting on the cover of one of those trashy tabloid magazines recently.

Robin was right, per usual but it only makes you more anxious for your boyfriend to arrive.

You make your way over to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink, nearly chugging it in an attempt to make your nerves disappear. But one drink quickly turns into four and having not eaten much before you arrived— you became very drunk, very fast.

So drunk that you didn’t even notice when Eddie finally did arrive, after a very concerned phone call from Steve.

The brunette was already having to babysit Robin, but now he was struggling to keep you both in check. Chasing the two of you around his house, your chorus of giggles barely being heard above the bubbly pop music. Eddie arrives soon after that phone call, searching frantically through the crowd of people to find you.

However it didn’t take him very long to do so.

A crowd had begun to form in Steve’s dining room, as you pulled Robin up onto his table with you. Both of you dancing drunkenly on the top of it, letting the heavy bass pump through you. The both of you ignore the whistles and shouts from the crowd, raising your hands above your head.

Eddie had finally pushed his way to the front of the crowd, watching in amusement as you got a little too into the gyration of your hips. Not a care in the world as you tossed your head back. Seemingly forgetting about the large chandelier that hung behind you. That amusement turns to slight horror as the back of your head smacks right against the light fixture.

A combination of the impact and the alcohol has you feeling lightheaded, your knees start to wobble. Robin gasps in shock, attempting to grab on to your wrist but fails miserably as you lose your balance. Letting you fall back into the crowd and right into a pair of strong arms.

Your vision is blurred and your head starts to spin as the person quickly carries you out of the room, cradling you against their chest. In your inebriated and dizzy state you don’t realize it’s the metalhead you’ve been waiting to see all night.

You squirm in his arms, attempting to get him to put you down, “Excuse me— I have a boyfriend.” You huff, pushing against their denim clad shoulder, “Put me down!”

The pout adorning your lips causes him to chuckle, immediately recognizing the sound. You blink your lashes rapidly as your boyfriend’s face finally comes into focus. That pout is quickly replaced with a toothy grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him.

Eddie kisses you back gently, kicking the door shut behind him. He sits you both down on the bed, now in the comfort of Steve’s guest room. You snuggle up into his chest immediately, playing with his dark curls.

“Glad you’ve finally come back down to earth, love,” he hums, "Is your head feeling okay?”

You sigh happily, nodding as Eddie begins to feel the back of your head. Carefully inspecting it to make sure you haven’t done any significant damage. You wince as he finds a tender spot, the male pressing a light kiss to it.

“So you dye your hair and go completely off the rails,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m just glad I got here when I did.”

His concerned tone makes you giggle nonetheless, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss against his jaw. The room had finally stopped spinning, and you felt ready to get back to the party.

“You know what they say, Eds, blondes have more fun.”

Eddie just rolls his eyes at you fondly, ruffling your freshly dyed locks.

“Uh huh, sure they do, sweetheart.”

[midnightjewel]

Interview

The wheels in my head were turning and they finally landed on this concept and I think it’s a good one let me know what you think!

Characters Included: Kirishima (are we surprised? I’m always thinking about him)

Warnings: Sexualizing of the reader (consensual? Idk how to put it)

(18+ Only Please)

It was no secret that you were drop dead gorgeous. Even in your early teenage years at UA you were flaunted after by so many people. Not that you paid them any mind, you only had eyes for one boy.

Eijirou Kirishima was undoubtedly the biggest crush you’d ever had. Sure, you crushed on actors and maybe someone in middle school here and there but you’d never felt such a powerful infatuation with someone. He was the definition of perfect in your eyes.

That was a shock to him when you confessed your feelings over a FaceTime call when you two were exchanging homework answers. He’d had a slight suspicion of your feelings but he didn’t want to get too ahead of himself. You were by far the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on and it’s not like you had a dry personality to make him question if it was just your looks that made you attractive. No, definitely not. You were so funny to him. You were charismatic, fun-loving and so much more. You were perfect.

When you had accidentally let it slip that you had a crush on him over that FaceTime call he was over the moon. You on the other hand we’re completely mortified that the hottest guy you’d ever known knew that you liked him because you had accidentally told him. But when he told you that he felt the same you were ecstatic.

If it wasn’t enough of a shock to the both of you that you two started dating it was an even bigger shock to the student body when you two waltzed in the school doors holding hands. After about 3 dates you two decided to go public with your relationship. Now that you were off the market there was a sense of sadness in the air by others but screw them because you were the happiest you’d ever been in your life.

And you stayed off the market for good when two years after graduation Kirishima proposed to you. It was one of the best days of your life and you would never ever forget it. The best day of your life however was when you two said “I do” at a very private and intimate wedding off the coast of Italy. Only close friends and family attended and no details were spilled of you two’s whereabouts so that kept the paparazzi off of your backs during your wedding and honeymoon. And thank god they were because the two of you definitely got busy during that week and a half.

I mean, you were very popular. Maybe it was cliche but you had kind of made a living off of being pretty in the hero industry. Just like Midnight did. She was your number one supporter in your early days always telling you to never push yourself out of your comfort zones and to not let tabloids pressure you because they can make you look bad in an instant.

You took her advice to heart but you were fine with over sexualzing yourself. You were in your early twenties and were in the best shape of your life all while your face card was never declining. Paparazzi secretly hoped that one day they could catch a bad photo of you but alas it just wasn’t happening.

You had just been on the cover of “play hero magazine” for last month’s edition and it was all the rage all over the internet. Did your red headed husband mind? Absolutely not! In fact, he encouraged you more than you encouraged yourself to do this photo shoot. The only binding agreement you had with the director of the photo shoot was that you were not taking your bra or panties off and they could respect that.

Of course Red Riot didn’t mind his wife being on play hero’s magazine as long as he got an early copy and private time when the two of you got home. Who were you to deny him of something that you obviously wanted as well.

It didn’t stop there, due to your immense photogenic features you were asked to model for lingerie companies, present awards at hero galas, and model for some hero merch. You had just finished the photo shoot for your good friend Dynamite’s new hoodies that were to be released on his website in a month when you had just made it back to your dressing room in time to watch your husbands interview on some talk show. You knew lots of people were watching it, he was extremely popular and this was a highly anticipated interview among fans and viewers.

As you settled into your comfortable clothes which consisted of an oversized Red Riot hoodie and some sweatpants you settled into the large sofa that was in your dressing room.

“Well thank you for having me” Kirishima had spoken in his usual polite nature just as you’d flipped to the channel he was on. “First I’d like to start off by asking you about status” the woman spoke and you listened but tuned out as well. Sure, it was important to pay attention to your husband in his big moment but status and strategy questions were always so boring.

As you were about to go grab a water out of the mini fridge in your dressing room something caught your attention. “May I ask questions about your wife?” She inquired and he immediately nodded “Yes, please! Ask me about my wife!” He enthusiastically spoke causing her and the audience to laugh.

“Right and you can refuse to answer any questions you want but I’ll begin with what we have written down” she starts “You undoubtedly are married to one of the most beautiful pro hero’s of your generation, and forgive me, but one of the most sexualized women in this hero industry, as many people have seen the new play hero magazine cover that she has posed for as well as the other modeling contracts she has picked up. How do you feel about your own wife being so sexualized by media with comments online stating ‘I could show her a better time than red riot’ and ‘Oh my god one of the sexiest women ever! She needs to get in my bed immediately’ ” She finished

He takes a moment to noticeably stare at the screen where they have put up pictures of you and even some of the newer more scandalous photo shoots you’ve done “Well the best response I can give to everyone who fantasizes and makes those comments about my wife would be that yeah, you get to see those pictures of her but I get to go home to her so know your place” he chuckles to seem more friendly but you knew deep down that he really meant it and would do anything to protect you.

His words made you un-involuntarily bite your lip slightly and squeeze your thighs together. Oh you couldn’t wait to see him later.

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

Episode 2

They’re in NY. It’s November 2021. They are running away from paparazzi that…aren’t there? Meghan says there was a guy recording them in the basement but the footage is Kate and Diana. Lol, they are in the NJ Turnpike pretending they are being followed by paps. This is bizarre and hilarious.

More bitching about social media harassment, which is apparently a bunch of Twitter posts. 

Doria does a confessional. Why isn’t Doria pretending she didn’t know who Harry was? Didn’t she get the brief? How does the yoga teacher know about the royals but the Northwestern International Relations graduate does not? She knew right away too. It’s a weird disconnect and the show is full of them. Every two minutes they say something that makes you go “Whaaaaaat? Didn’t they just say….”

Relationship breaks. They “felt tremendous relief.” Of course they did. They leaked it. No mention of the Reitman’s collection or the fact that this was leaking during on of Charles’ big trips. No spooning bananas instagram pic either.

Tatcha CEO is credited as “friend.” Wellness podcaster “friend.” Former agent.  Lol, these people are business associates, not friends. First mention of Meghan’s fauxlantropist work, which baffles me as they should have led with that. “Childhood friend” of Harry’s that I never heard of shows up again. Harry really was ringing up everyone in the Eton yearbook trying to find some desperate classmate hungry for exposure. Montage of the press Sunshine Sachs and Nina Crowne set up for her—UN, Rwanda, etc…. They did nice work and they should have spent more time on this. But maybe not. Someone may start wondering what happened to her passion for Rwandan women’s political rights, hygiene, and menstrual pads. But if you pay for an expensive pr makeover you should use it.

According to Tom Bower she was paying SS $7500/mo and I’m amazed at what a good pr company can do with a four figure monthly stipend. The “classy” makeover lasted three months so they turned her into a humanitarian princess for less than $25k. Impressive.

Flower shop pap walk. Interesting choice since this wasn’t the first pap shot of Meghan and she seems to imply it was. The first pap shot was days earlier at her house and she had a security team with her. I wonder why she picked the flower shop shot which is actually a lot less intrusive (in appearance at least) than the real first pic. Maybe because she had security in the earlier picture? Meghan claims there were 8 or 9 paps at the flower shop but there’s only one video so that seems unlikely. Shop wasn’t anywhere near her house also. Rumor was Marcus took this shot. Maybe she was trying to send some money his way by using his pic.

Stock video of paps because she has no video of paps chasing her of course. Pics of official royal events. 

Back to Toronto. Lol, those are clearly security guards in her porch and not paps. Ditto with her landlord’s security cameras. I think there was a DM article when those went up and Legion Media’s pic still states that those cameras were mounted on what was Meghan’s garage and not on her neighbor’s house as the documentary implies. 

At least she doesn’t mention the fake break-in. Guess she knows that won’t fly anymore. But still, how can you show video from the cameras in front of the house and then claim the cameras in the back were from the neighbors? Obviously the house had cameras in the back too.

[Edited to add: She says Toronto police didn't protect her and the police strongly disagree.]

“My face was everywhere, my life was everywhere.” She blames the tabloids, but that wasn’t true. You were leaking stories to US Weekly and Lainey every other day, girl. It was part of your “classy” makeover. No mention of that weird video of Ivy Mulroney that was sent to the DM. Odd since you would think that would be a big intrusion, if it had been done by a pap.

“There were things that were said and things that were written that I had to go to her to ask.” That would be the cheating on Cory and Del Zotto, I guess.

Back to LA. My husband asks what she did to her nose. It does look weird in this shot.

Doria and Meghan tour LA and Meghan’s life was not that interesting. This should have been edited, heavily. I do love that she sold the same childhood pics her dad sold. Like father, like daughter. Dish soap commercial. My husband asks how much plastic surgery she has had because she looks nothing like her old self. Interesting that he’s only half-watching and his main impressions are drugs and plastic surgery.

Racism and media persecution. Wait, some of these pics are from before the relationship broke. They are from the paps she hired during her European vacation with Jess. 

Academic guy blames the UK tabloids for fanning the madness. No mention of Omid Scobie and USWeekly, who were the ones steadily pushing the romance narrative with stories about Charles meeting her at Birkhall and William meeting her at Kensington Palace, as well as their vacation plans.

And Lainey Liu was boasting that the US mags were getting the scoops and not the UK tabloids because Harry was feeding the stories only to the US. So why blame the UK tabloids, Harry? You knew what you were doing. They could finesse this in 2016 when no one knew that Lainey was friends with Meghan and that Omid was their mouthpiece, but that is not the case anymore. Their unofficial biographer was leaking these stories in 2016. It was not the UK tabloids! 

And then there was Meghan herself, Instagramming all over the place.

Whole Foods pap walk. According to Tom Bower, Richard Kay was the guy who got the pic. Unbelievable. That actually surprised me. No wonder that detail was never released. No one would have believed that Diana's big confidante just randomly noticed Meghan walking into KP.

Kensington Palace statement. No mention of William supporting the statement. No mention of the Caribbean tour that got overshadowed by the romance.

 NAACP award really was in front of a green screen with an applause soundtrack.  LOLOLOLOL. It looks so sad, particularly when compared to the footage of the royal events. I think this is supposed to show that their life is better than before (They get awards! In front of green screens!) but it gives the exact opposite impression.

Harry with the hummingbird feeder also looks sad and pathetic. Archie could be in Africa petting elephants but he’s in Cali admiring hummingbirds instead.

Meghan’s personal assistant talks about how she would be recognized in the Toronto grocery stores. Lol, no. She wishes!

Security stuff, including complaints about paps around the Suits trailers which seems odd to me since those are pretty standard for television productions. Also, why are the Invictus Games pictures intrusive? Suits security guy says they were coordinating her security with the palace and “they would handle that stuff.” Interesting detail since she claims she wasn’t protected by the palace and Harry was “hearing this from miles away, completely helpless.” Apparently, she was protected and from day one. Did they watch this before they sent it to Netflix? Did they not notice that half the stuff they put in it contradicts the other half? 

Boring stuff…April 2017 already? They are booking flights to Pippa’s wedding and her Vanity Fair photoshoot through texts. LOL, she was doing a huge interview at the time, but she’s complaining about media intrusion. Make it make sense.

Pics with friends riding bikes. Old pic in her Toronto kitchen. Did they use this one twice? I would not have used it even once. Wait, was this what she was wearing when she met Will and Kate? LOLOLOLOL. “That formality carried over in real life.” I guess Kate was wearing shoes when she met Meghan. The nerve of that girl!

Andrew helped them ambush the Queen at Royal Lodge. That got leaked to Scobie at US Weekly too.

“How do you explain that you have to bow to your grandmother?” Uh, she was like….The Queen? What part of that is hard to understand?

She just compared meeting the Queen to Medieval Times. Wow. Big, exaggerated curtsy. She sounds and looks like an idiot. Fergie said she did great. Of course she did. She didn’t know how to curtsy? How does someone go through high school theater in the United States of Disney without knowing how to curtsy? [Edited: HRH Emilie found a clip of a curtsy scene she did for Suits because of course she did]

His family was impressed. LOL, I don’t think so. The actress thing was the biggest problem…wait, wasn’t her race the biggest problem? Can’t they keep their stories straight?

Interestingly the very first Blind Gossip blind was about how her profession was the problem and not her race. I suspected these blinds came from the Yorks and now I feel pretty good about that guess.

Meghan’s career. No blow-job or cocaine scene. No mention of her old blog. Interesting. I guess I can sort of understand that, but no mention of Trevor either? Are they going to pretend she was never married? No stories about being poor and crawling out of the back of her dad’s old truck either.

First biracial character? Eh, no. Meg was the glue for a lot of those cast relationships, but only one cast members participated in the documentary. Did no one do a consistency check on this show?

Screenshot of the Tig…with Cory front and center. That is hilarious because I don’t think they’ve mentioned him yet. Okay, now I’m sure Meghan didn’t watch this before it went live. She would have caught that and asked them to use a different shot.

“I didn’t want to find the great indie film that would win me an Oscar. I just wanted to volunteer.” She was literally releasing an indie film at this time. It was terrible. This documentary is like a lie-a-thon. Every other statement is a complete lie.

UN Speech. Is the crowd shot a stock picture (or archival picture, whichever is the right term)?  It feels edited in. Jump to September 2021 at the UN. Okay, so the whole point of that meeting was the documentary. We knew that.

Proposal. He couldn’t do it outside the UK? Everyone else has done so outside the UK. What are you talking about, Harry?

Also, no mention of her appearance at Invictus Games? How come none of their charities are getting shout-outs? No mention of the “Mad About Harry” Vanity Fair article or the backlash and you’d think that would be a big deal because she eventually called it racist, no? I guess they don’t want to admit that she was feeding the flames of press coverage.

Funny how they aren’t bitching about the UK tabloids harassing her after the moved to the UK. Could it be because the tabloids were not reporting on that…but Lainey and Hello! Canada (Where Jess started leaking after US Weekly got bought out by National Enquirer and Omid got fired) did.

She got the proposal on video. That’s is hilarious. He proposed with fake candles in their yard. How…tacky. Penguin onesies? Why would you want to tell the world that? I’d love some inside info as to how they pitched this to the director. “Sure the palace made sure our engagement sounded glamorous and romantic, but we are not about that. We want to tell them about the LED candles and penguin onesies. It will make us look cheap and tacky? Of course not, everyone will think we are fun and relatable.”

Cheesy Calvin Klein perfume ad engagement pictures with hideously expensive feather dress. We thought that was super tacky and we didn’t even know about the LED candles and penguin onesies. No mention of how much the dress cost or the backlash it caused. Lots of interviews about how excited people were. 

Engagement photocall was a lot more glamorous than anything they’ve done for this documentary. The royals really know how to manage occasions. Hard to believe these two are the same couple from the grainy proposal video. Goes to show how persuasive good pr can be. They almost looked regal.

Brexit? Boris Johnson? Really? Intrusion into the lives of the royal family was due to…Brexit and anti-immigration sentiment? I swear this documentary is like Mad Libs. They are just throwing stuff out at random. Paparazzi….penguin onesies….racism…..Brexit…. The Brexit referendum was in June 2016 and the engagement was in November 2017 so I’m not sure why they are even bringing it up. 

“They are just trying to destroy me.” The Brexit movement was trying to destroy her? 

It’s over. Wait, they didn’t mention her prior marriage at all??? Lolololol. Brexit is apparently more relevant to her story than her previous marriage. I guess that’s why she didn’t add her first wedding pics and the weed wedding favors to the list of press intrusions. The “phone hack” wasn’t mentioned either or the leaked topless pic. I guess she’s still pretending those weren’t pictures of her.

We seem to be at the engagement and there have been some other interesting omissions, namely Skippy’s wedding and Pippa’s wedding. Weird because you’d think Skippy’s wedding would be a perfect example of press intrusion too. I understand why they left out Pippa’s wedding though. Kinda awkward to admit Pippa invited you to her intimate, family wedding in the same episode where you call her sister “formal.” 

Plus Audi polo, the birthday trip in Africa, Vanity Fair, Invictus…they all got left out. This episode curated the timeline to make it look like Meghan did nothing to encourage coverage and press speculation, and that is far from the truth. Her family is also missing and they were stirring the pot all through this time period. They were talking to the press basically every month.

My husband lost interest at this point. He had no comments other than to say her nose looked fake and the pap chase was fake. The group chat discussed whether they truly thought they had a pap chasing them. Everyone thought that was fake because the camerawork was too perfect. They scoffed at the Medieval Times comment and the curtsy. Someone laughed at the Oscar comment. 

This was pretty boring. The fake pap chase was the best part.

BTW, Tumblr has a 10-link limit now? How annoying.

On to the next episode.

[uchihaharlot]

CEO! AU Where their employee is too naive about innuendo 😅

Too pure and these guys wreck her during a personal "meeting" in their office.

(Separate scenarios please 🙏)

Me dearest moot,

I apologize this took me so long. 😅 I find it hard to write ooc scenes, but then again everything written outside the Narutoverse is considered ooc. So I just rolled with it, didn’t feel it at first. Sat on it, went back edited it — added more and hopefully the outcome is to your standards.

I truly am committed to writing almost any ask that is sent my way.

I do apologize, this got lengthy. I cannot not write anything less than 3k it seems when in the mood. Lmao. I give you smut with minor plot, because I love a bit of backstory and I adore characters that have a familiarity between them or some fluffy shit like that.

(When I wrote this, I was not aware of your preference for Itachi at the time. Shisui CEO was already in the works. Honestly am not entirely convinced this is good. I would be willing to do Itachi in a separate ask, I just didn’t want this to be like 15k of figuring my shit out).

NSFW; airhead-ish intern; smut w/plot; praise kink; oral; vaginal; unprofessional work environment; sex at work; Enjoy!

wc: an exorbitant fucking 3.4k; fuck and I’m not editing it much more right now. Will go back, I just felt like the worlds biggest piece of shit for taking so long lol

As fresh blood in the world of accounting, credentials meant everything. Especially if you want roll with the big boys. Which is why when accepting an internship nearly six months ago from the most prestigious accounting firm, you didn’t hesitate to accept. It would look good on your resume and if lucky enough, you’d be offered a job and avoid the hassle of sending out hundreds of applications.

So far things have been mild and mundane.

Coffee this, tea that. Dry cleaning. You hardly even made an appearance into the conference room except on few occasions.

Today was one of those days your presence was requested. Shisui Uchiha, CEO, owner and founder of Tomoe LLC. An accounting firm for high profiled clients.

Yea, your designated boss was that guy.

The one who made tabloids left and right with his fuck you money and all. The guy who probably had every woman in the office, including yourself, humid and longing. Didn’t even have to try, and there was no lying. How unfortunate you had the hots for him. Regardless of your stance, you retained the upmost professionalism in his presence.

When Shisui walks into the conference room, all eyes are on him. Composed, clean cut and admirable. As an intern your job is to take minute notes, jot ideas he spouts off and anything of importance. At the end of his hour and a half long ramble. Everyone is dismissed.

‘Except you.’ Words you didn’t really expect, but nonetheless did as you were told.

Once the room is cleared, Shisui’s gaze catches yours. Sharp and observant, you felt under the microscope of his heavy dark eyed gaze. ‘I need your help on something.’

Which was great, usually.

This is what you’re here for. If it was coffee, you’d fetch it. If it was picking his dog up from the groomers, that too. You got to use his shiny new car, which was a treat. He made sure you knew nobody before you had that privilege.

‘I’m listening, Uchiha-san.’ Submissive and severely cute as you retained his attention. Even if unintentional, it made his eyes flicker whenever you called him that and he straightened up a bit. A smug grin on his face.

Ever the good girl.

Shisui taps at your laptop, quickly you open its notebook app, ready to record his thoughts. ‘I want you to draft your own document on project of your choosing. Consider it a ‘review.’ How can you make this company grow?’

Oh, it was one of those reviews. The preliminary ‘give me your thoughts and maybe you can have a job’ situation. He continues, ‘on one condition… meet me in my office after work. And we’ll discuss it more personally.’

‘Anything specific I should focus on?’ It wasn’t confusing, but you had the sense there was something particular he was looking for.

He smiles and gazes over you. Shisui always said he appreciated your tenacity and go-getter attitude. ‘Just whatever comes to mind; nothing too serious…..when you write this document, just remember it's for me. It should be tailored to suggestions you think I would….be interested in.’

‘Right, for you…for the company.’ You sheepishly smile back. Why was the room hot, why did your stomach disappear and leave you feeling sick almost. Not in a terrible way, but well….no. He’s your damned boss!!

‘Good girl.’ Something crawled up your spine when he said those words. Your body treasonously gushed, and it was hard not to flush warm in the cheeks. ‘Make sure to send this off before you stop by my office. It would be…beneficial for me to know before we further discuss this in a personal setting.’

A personal setting. After work.

You weren’t stupid by any means, part of you truly believed your boss was hitting on you and the other half was partial to the fact Shisui just knew how to get what he wanted. So, for the last few hours of your day, you focused on real issues within the company. You didn’t want to insult him, but there were things that could improve the numbers and have an impact. Small minute details you picked up the last few months. The document was sent off the last half hour of the day before you walked down to the elevator and took it three floors up to where the higher-ranking individuals in the company were stationed.

Maybe you could be up here. Maybe your ideas would actually mean something. A small smile spreads your face before you knock on his office door.

When Shisui opens the door, he immediately steps aside and motions for you to enter. That’s good sign, right? His gaze lingers as you take in the office that you see maybe three times a month. Your actual duties are handed down to the secretary on your floor directly from him.

A soft click of the door closing has your nerves striking flint at one another.

‘I like how you took this assignment so seriously….’ Taking a seat at his desk, hands folded together. He takes her in.

‘You’re not offended?’ Of course not! The numbers didn’t lie, you had found a hole in his company’s bottomline. Money was being filtered out. If anything, he was grateful you did this so thoroughly.

Shisui’s eyes seem almost piercing, ‘I’m not offended at all. In fact, it’s impressive. Very impressive….now exactly how did you figure this out?’

Oh, that was a toughie. It was by accident, really, you explain. Within the first few weeks of your internship, you were granted access to classified information. Unsure if this was even allowed, you figured that if a potential job was to be had. You needed to know the numbers. Unfortunately for Shisui, undoubtedly, someone was stealing money from him. He had his suspicions prior to your upheaval, but no real way of confirming without causing the perpetrator to become aware. Aside from that it was intricately encrypted, meaning you were incapable of providing further details of who.

Shisui eyes you the whole time, his unwavering gaze felt unkind almost, but sincere. ‘So, you were just casually going through the inflow and outflow. Just so happen to discover…. money missing?’

You exhale heavily, this sounded like it could backfire. ‘Y-yes. I��m sorry if that was a breach of my contract, I figured if I was granted access—’

Shisui’s light chuckle interrupts you, a sort of calm, almost relieved feeling washes down your nerves. ‘You’re fine, I admire your determination and commitment to this company. It seems I can’t trust everyone here…’

‘I suggest, if you’re open to it…. calling tech support, they might be able…’ the words hit your face from the floor. Someone in tech support would be the perfect position to lay low and hide or dispose of backlogs. Shisui quirks an eyebrow at your acute observation. ‘Tech support would be able to see behind all of that.’

At first, he is surprised, then perturbed. Tech support would be capable of seeing behind the encryption or worse. Creating it. Leaning back in his chair, he folds his hands under to his chin. ‘A smart observation….that is….unfortunate. For them, if so.’ A hint of admiration in his voice has you smiling at his praise.

Shisui can’t help but stare at you for a moment. That smile is adorable, even more when you’re not completely flustered by him. When you’re almost comfortable in his presence. ‘You’re a very sharp girl…and you have a good grasp of this business despite being just an intern….’

‘It’s nothing….really. I was just…trying to get on top of the game.’ A soft shrug is all you manage. What else could you say? Now wasn’t the time to toot your own horn.

Shisui leans forward in his chair. He can't help but notice you’re a still bit shy, reserved and overtly quiet in his presence. More times often than not are you loud and boisterous with the friends you’ve made here. Something lurches in the back of his mind; his tone of voice softens.

‘I’d like to commend you for your efforts. You’ve outdone yourself and even figured out someone is potentially funneling money from me.’ He pauses briefly, ‘just out of curiosity though….why did you accept this internship?’

The harsh truth resurfaced with a prejudice. You were bitter the first few weeks, though you were grateful for this opportunity here. Not a word back from a single firm within the five great nations when you sought them out. It was nearly a month later after you had sent out the portfolio did Shisui’s firm respond. ‘You were the only firm to return interest and extend an offer.’

This was not something Shisui expected to hear. It disheartened him and left a foul taste in his mouth. Surely other firms would have been interested. He hadn’t sent a reply as quickly beforehand. Thinking you would take an opportunity in another country. Most people wanted to leave their home cities; he responded solely on the fact he was too eager in his selection for you. The portfolio, while small, was exceptional. Organized and precise. His stubbornness made him hold off but the business side of him does what’s best for itself.

He had to have you, to see the woman behind the mind. Even if you weren’t the spectacular woman before him, he still would have hired you. He wasn’t discriminatory in that matter, only if you would be beneficial to the firm. He knew from the initial interview that you would be, it was just a bonus that you were drop dead gorgeous.

‘No other company reached out?’ The irritation in his voice was severe and brought blasphemy in his eyes.

The hardened look on his face softens once more as you continue, ‘I was shocked to receive your extension to interview.’

Another unexpected answer. Shisui didn’t expect that the other internships went unanswered, but he never once turned down the free labor hours of an internship. There wasn’t a damn thing that made you unworthy of a position here. Intelligent, well calculated….submissive. You did every thing he threw at you from silly errands he couldn’t be fucked with, to listening to him bitch about Genma’s vacation in the Land of Tea being two weeks.

‘So here I am. Almost the six month review. I was hoping that this recent development would…be a retainer for a full time position…’ the words taper off. Hearing how silly you were.

Scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours was not at the forefront of your mind.

But it was his and, well, the funny thing is. Shisui’s back, is on his cock. That’s exactly the kind of back scratching he was referring to earlier when he asked for you to come up with a minor presentation for him. He figured this one wouldn’t fly over the crows nest, but it had. You didn’t quiet catch his intentions.

He would just have to be more…direct.

A small smile spreads his face, the fact that you were just so bashful with your request. Shisui rounds his desk quickly, his hands at your forearms. Sights sharp with intent. Deep baritone grows soft when he addresses you, ‘consider me impressed.’

You quickly dial in at his hands holding you so, so intimately. ‘Why?’ Is that really all you can manage? Though you didn’t understand, ‘why do I impress you? I did something that someone else should have been doing.’ Your brows pinch.

Shisui doesn’t answer right away, he takes the time to consider you. He thumbs small circles on your left arm, as if he is trying to properly convey the words of adoration without scaring you off. ‘You’re right, I should have someone doing this. I am just impressed you were that person when it should have been someone more experienced in this company.’

‘But…?’ Waiting for it. For the let down of not having a position here.

Shisui runs a hand through his hair, the other still on your left arm, ‘this is the first time I’ve ever thought about extending a full-time position to an intern in awhile. But…from now on, you will not be an intern…’ a pregnant pause makes the air thick and stale for a moment. ‘You’ll be my assistant.’

‘Assistant?’ That wasn’t working with numbers, ‘that’s not…numbers or anything close to it…’

Shisui’s laugh fills his chest and reverberates in his throat stopping at a light hum, the grip on your forearm tightens a little to capture your undivided attention wholly. ‘Do not worry. I never said that you would stop working with numbers. That will still be part of your position here. But, moreover, I want your input on other aspects of this company. Marketing, communication, etc. a more….intimate experience at my side.’

You gawk. ‘How can you consider that from a near bare portfolio. I surely haven’t worked my weight in ryo here, not even close.’

In this moment, you look adorable to Shisui. Exasperated and uncertain. Almost undeserving. ‘You’re forgetting exactly why I chose you for the internship. I knew from the moment I interviewed you that you were a very sharp young lady. My trust in your abilities has grown exponentially these past few months, and hence…this new position for you.’

A soft click of your tongue, it was all coming full circle now. ‘This sounds like a curated position that was just made up.’

Shisui’s lips curl into a devious smile, that slips below subtle smirk. He narrows his eyes a bit, those eyes ever intense and drinking you up like the finest whiskey. That calm and composed side of Shisui is replaced by a commanding and dominant presence. Unholy even.

‘Uchiha-san?’ A sharp exhale as Shisui snakes a hand around her waist.

He brings you flush to his chest, running a hand through your hair. Drags his nose along your jaw and up to your cheek before his lips stop at your ear. Hot and raspy, Shisui’s intentions are more than clear. You notice how tall he really is, just towering over you. How much older he is too.

‘What…are you doing?’ A whispered hiss of astonishment at his direct approach.

‘What do you think I am dong?’ Sweet like honey, his voice is deep. Commanding. Possessive.

‘I’m partial to believe this is not in my job description….’ Your soft breath fans the his cheek as he rakes a hand up the nape of your neck.

‘I never suggested it was….’ The words send shivers down your spine, his thumb traces down your cheekbone. His warm breath smells sweet, you know this is not appropriate. Against policy. And as much as you’d hate to admit it.

You enjoyed it. ‘Then what is this for?’

You graze your nose in return over his cheek, the boldness amuses Shisui. How much did you like this? ‘This is part of the perks that come with your new job. If you haven’t noticed by now… I tend to enjoy your company.’

Well no, you didn’t notice. Not until now, ‘no, how could I when I’m hardly doing as an intern should?’ That was cute.

The small moan from your lips is even more adorable as Shisui dragged his lips down your neck. Delirium filled your head space, this was moving too fast. Before you knew it your tight pencil skirt was shucked to above your hips and you were laid on his desk.

Subservient to his desire, fueled by your own deplorable greed within. You could just let Shisui have his way with you, not that you saw it this way. Sex was currency, was also free and felt fucking good. The part of you that may or may not have fantasized this exact scenario unfolding was in charge now.

Spread out, legs over his shoulders holding his head in a vice squeeze. How did it get far this fast? Nose in your heat, lapping and twirling his tongue over your clit. Fingers curling in the confines of your taut muscles. Muscles that ached for it; were drenched for him. If your knocked a few things off his desk, Shisui would forgive you. This was the reason why he’d drawn you in after hours, the sounds you made were no less than a few doors in range: if anyone was still here after hours. They’d hear and pretend they didn’t the next day.

When his cock stretched you, molded you to him. He reamed a hand around your neck and pressed your back into the keyboard. Every time you came close to coming, he squeezed and stopped thrusting. Making you writhe and submit further to him.

‘..please.’ Your desperate whimper.

‘Please..what?’

Those soft eyes of yours caught his attention, ‘..please let me come Uchiha-san.’

He kissed you sweetly, but fucked you like an office whore as you came all over him. ‘Such a good girl…’ rang your ears every so often as he softly panted out between thrusts. Shisui flipped you to your stomach once you succumbed to his relentless pounding. Wrung his hand in your hair and craned your neck back to expose the delicate flesh. Nipping your pulse point, he sheath himself once more. Slower, needier. On the verge of filling your sweet hole with his genetic markup. Gripping your waist to steady your body, he whispered many things of promise if you accepted his job offer.

His bed, car and money. What on earth had gotten into this man? Shisui couldn’t figure out for himself exactly what he was saying either, but it was all forgotten the split second your salacious whimper and saying you were coming again. Had his hips steam rolling and slamming into you harder. Pumping his thinking length as he coated your insides. Holding your back to his chest as you both moaned out loud.

Surely, this was unprofessional. The entire time you fixed your clothes, you expected him to rescind his decision. That didn’t happen. Not when he fixed his tie, adjusted your skirt and covered you with his coat. Not once did his resolve change as you both walked out the dark office and got out of the elevator. He took you to dinner, paid an extraordinary amount of money for too little food and ushered you home. Opened your door and lead you by the small of your back to your front door and gave you a chaste kiss.

‘See you in the morning, ill be here at 6:30am’ It was fully decided by now that you did have a a full time position now, and he handed you a check for the firsts three months salary, and then some that had your head spinning.

‘This is unnecessary..’ It was money that you’d only ever seen on paper, let alone now held in your hands.

‘Consider it a bonus, and a reward.’ Shisui lifted your chin, and kissed your cheek.

You watched as he waited for you to go inside of your apartment, then he left.

[scorpio-marionette]

Anxiety

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: anxiety, bad coping mechanisms, sadness, confusion, assumptions, age gap

A/N: Forgive me guys. I am currently in a depressive episode and I just binged @fuckyeahdindjarin 's Consent series (instead of writing like I should have) and it has put me deep into my feels. This little fic is very personal to me. Again, I'm sorry it's so sad. I just hate being attracted to a man I can get to know, let alone actually date, sometimes. (I'm looking at you Pedro.) But a girl can dream, right?

Part of @toomanystoriessolittletime December Writing Challenge

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You're not quite sure what you should've expected looking at Instagram, at his Instagram. Of course he'd be surrounded by starlets. Gorgeous women, who are actually his, mind you, clinging to his arm. Kissing his face. All heart eyes and smiles. The same smile that swept you away a year ago….

It had happened by sheer chance. You and your best friend happened to be in the right restaurant to overhear a writer and producer talking about a script. The story as a whole was interesting enough, but certain parts made the flow of the story choppy. As a writer you were dying inside from trying to keep quiet. More than positive that you weren't supposed to know about the script at all. Fortunately or unfortunately, you couldn’t keep it together anymore. You rose from your seat to make your way over to their table. You politely ask that they forgive your interruption (and eavesdropping) and ask if you may provide an outside opinion. Once given the green light you go to town. Much to your surprise, the two were very interested in your outlook on the story. So much so they invite you and your friend to finish having your food at their table. Minutes blur into hours as you all work. Once satisfied with their edited story, they bid you farewell with the promise of compensation for your contribution. 

Months would pass before you heard anything else. Not that you had been expecting to, or hoping. Your check had come and long since been spent. What else could they need? More edits? Apparently you because they couldn't seem to find the right actress to play the leading lady. Upon your arrival to set you had asked why. You were merely told that no one knew the character better than you. No one understood her like you did. A valid point. You had almost completely rewritten her. In light of the trouble, you accepted the task. You didn’t have an ounce of acting experience under your belt though. The director assured you that you would be fine. That’s about the moment you found out who your co-star was. You had heard of him, and frankly you heard him before you saw him. Demetrio Bravolinski, a.k.a. Dieter Bravo. Hollywood heartthrob. The man to be because he was getting cast in everything after the documentary for Cliff Beasts.

You had it bad for him, regardless of having never met him prior. You knew it was ridiculous to be so sure of your feelings. You had no real reason to feel what you felt. You couldn’t help it though. Something told you deep down that the man before you was more than the designer shirts his agent had rented so he could be a human product billboard. More than the recreational drugs he’s known for using in the tabloids. He felt and dreamed like any other being. Keeping that in mind, you let the director introduce you. At first he seemed put off by how young you were. Quick to question why such a young actress was cast. His failed relationship with the young Anika came to mind. The director explained what happened with you and the producer and writer. He instantly perked up. He hadn’t been excited to take the role at first, but was promised that it would be in the running for movie of the year. When rewrites for the script had made their way to him, his opinion on the film took an instant one eighty. He had not only fallen for his character, but also what would now be yours. No one would have ever taken Dieter for being a secret romantic. 

With that, production had been a whirlwind. At first you kept very much to yourself. Feeling incredibly out of place among all the Hollywood regulars. Your anxiety winning out over making friends. Dieter had other plans though. He took you out to dinner when you weren’t too tired. He took you sightseeing on your days off. He bought you gifts that suited your tastes and interests. He asked you for your opinions on books, movies, and pieces of art. You couldn’t lie about it. You couldn’t have made it up. You seemed right about Dieter. He was more than what was shown. And your heart had completely fallen for him. First his voice, then his smile. The light in his eyes. His sometimes god awful humor. Then production wrapped. Reshoots barely needed you so you were released early. You thought he would want you around. To hang out after he finished his work, but he just went to the wrap parties. All the ones you weren’t invited to. 

When it came time to promote the movie, you were nowhere to be found. The contract you had drafted with the studio miraculously got you out of press tours. How, you’re still not sure, but after a month and half seeing Dieter at parties with ladies he’d actually be interested in you weren’t complaining. You had merely slipped away into the background where you were supposed to be. Going home wasn’t easy though. While no paparazzi followed you, eager friends and family were desperate to hear how it had all gone. You were truthful to a point. You had fun and explored what you could. One question from a friend was unexpected. She had asked if you told Dieter how you felt about him. Hesitating at first, you tell her that you never had a good moment to do so. He was either being far to sweet for you to drop a bomb like that on him, or had a beautiful woman on him, looking like they were already happily committed. 

And that’s how you’ve found yourself here, under a rainfall of crystal blue lights on a chilled winter’s night. Longingly staring at the photo of a man who will never be yours. Not just because he’s older than you, or a celebrity, or even because of the beautiful blonde on his arm. It’s because he isn’t here in New York. In your little corner of the world. He’s jetset off to London with the woman in the photo for the world premiere of the movie you starred together in. He’s gone, just like he was the day you had shown up to the studio to see if he wanted lunch. The same day that woman had sneered in your face. Asking a haunting question.

“Why on earth would a man like Dieter waste his time on you? You’re a little girl! A child! He may actually be a very sweet man, but he knows jail bait when he sees it. Go home and cry to mommy, hun. He has no need to babysit you anymore.”

Even now her words still hurt. They’re true though. Dieter was just being nice to you. You don’t fit in his world. He drinks and smokes and takes edibles before going out to party. Hell, he has a social life. Friends to hang out with, fake or not. The man does stuff with his life. All you’ve done is this one, crazy, fever dream of a filming opportunity. Now you’re home. Back to nothing. Perhaps it was just the universe’s idea of an early Christmas present or something?

“Why didn’t you come back?”

Your head whips around to the source of the voice. A snuggly, sleepy looking Dieter stands just outside your protective cage of icicle lights. His large hands tucked out of sight into the pockets of his peacoat. A new pair of black sweatpants shielding his legs from the air. Bewilderment. Disbelief. Fear. All very present on your face as you take in his appearance. You’re sure you must look like a gaping fish, but how else are you to react to him not only finding you in your own home town, but in your favorite spot in town. Surely your mother sold you out to him. 

“I-I did… you weren’t there,” you finally answer. “You left to go to a party.”

“Then why didn’t you meet me there?” he continues to question.

“Because I wasn't wanted there.”

“Who told you that?”

You hesitate to throw his girlfriend under the bus. Positive that even if he wouldn’t get mad, he would still side with her and claim that she would’ve wanted you to attend as you were his co-star.

“Who said you weren’t wanted there? We all waited for you to come. We were going to surprise you with gifts for completing your first ever movie!”

Now this is news to you. No one from production had ever mentioned this. There weren’t even gifts sent to you after the party. Just copious amounts of pictures of Dieter dancing with every stunner of a woman in the club. Kissing. Duck faces. Megawatt smiles. Nothing about you. No inquiries to your whereabouts. Request for ETAs. You were sure everyone forgot about you since you weren’t a star.

“I ended up taking everything home with me,” Dieter informs you. “I’ve just been sitting on a mountain of presents waiting for you to come by, but you never did. You didn’t even come on the press tour. You missed the premiere.”

“I couldn’t…” you start, but you choke up. Your throat seems to be closing. Your chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. You rise and turn to run from him. A hand gently grasps your elbow to halt your escape.

“Why didn’t you come back?” he asks again. 

Fear gives way to irrational anger. Your involuntary response to being mentally cornered. The ugly part of your personality.

“Because you didn’t really care for me!” you all but scream. “Your girlfriend told me as much. And here I was stupid enough to think you might like me.”

“Girlfriend?” He pauses. “ Do you mean Alexandria? She’s not my girlfriend. She’s an old friend from my short stint on Broadway. Wait, what did she tell you?”

“She said you didn’t need to babysit me anymore and said you didn’t care about me because I’m younger than you.”

Dieter laughs - no, bellows at your answer. Apparently finding great humor in his friend’s statement. You shrink into yourself at the sound. His wide grin confirms what you have since believed. Again, you turn to exit the park; to recede back into the shadows. Again a hand stops you from leaving. Pulled around to face him, you see that bright spot of warmth and sunlight that radiates from somewhere behind his eyes. It’s all for you. Your head droops. His eyes soften.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t like you because you’re younger than me?” he inquires as he lifts your face back to his. “And did you really think I couldn’t see the way you look at me?”

A blush blazes across your cheeks. You thought you had been discrete. Neutral at least.

“I’ve known this whole time that you’ve had a thing for me, sweetheart. I was just wondering how long it’d take for you to admit it. I even found all your social media pages you have about me.”

His smile widens like the Cheshire Cat he is. Mischievous, but honest. Devious, but true.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, darling.” He leans down to your ear and nuzzles in. 

“I love you too.”

[hoe-for-writing]

My hero (t.c.)

A/N: wow i haven’t written anything in almost a year and then 2 fanfics in 24 hours. wow. I just reentered my timothee chalamet phase and realized that I never had written a single thing about him so here we go. btw this is not edited and it’s also kinda late so...

 Timmy had wrapped his arm tightly around you, his warm fingers lingered on your waist while you two were walking around. You guys rarely took a walk in the central park due to the many fans that usually bombarded you with questions as soon you only stepped on foot out of the door.

But today was supposed to be a good day, a bit windy, but still warm enough to walk outside without gloves or hats.

Timmy hadn’t expected any paparazzi today. He wasn’t really used to it, not yet and he sometimes wondered if he’d ever not be surprised when they chased him, him, not someone else.

But the clicking sound of a camera immediately betrayed the pap, who had apparently tried to take a picture of you and Timothée.

“Ma chèrie…”, he whispered into your ear and slightly nudged you while looking at the paparazzi. To your surprise, it wasn’t just one or two guys. Multiple men with huge cameras were coming towards you, it seems that they had given up on being secretive and now ran to you guys, shouting your names. You pulled down your cap and held a hand in front of your face. Paps always managed to take the worst pictures of you, that was at least your opinion and the opinion of some guy who lived in his mother’s basement just to comment hate on your Instagram.

“Y/N, look here! To your left!”, screamed one of the guys and came very close. Timmy pulled you closer to him, now wrapping his arm around your shoulder while shielding your face with his hand as well. He wore huge sunglasses that covered most of his face, so he worried more about you. He knew how insecure you got from time to time. Every other day you were on the front page of some tabloid, where people, who had never met you, told lies about you, judged your appearance or speculated about whether you were pregnant or had gained weight.

You picked up the pace, moving closer to Timmy’s car which was unfortunately parked pretty far away.

Due to the huge commotion the paparazzi caused, some fans became aware of you. They were usually very kind and today they did even better. You heard some shouts from a few teenage girls, yelling at the paps to leave you guys alone and you even managed to send them a quick, thankful smile.

“Timothée, come on, look here, smile! Buddy!” A guy with an almost cruel smile had caught up to you and was definitely too close to you. And on top of that, he also seemed to not know the rules. He grabbed your wrist to pull you away from Timmy.

“Hey, let go of me, asshole!”, you yelled, trying to break free, while hearing the camera click. The flash burnt in your eyes and an image of your favorite sunglasses passed through your brain.

You were still trying to get rid of the guy’s grip on your wrist, when you felt Timmy changing to the side where the pap was and shoving him away from you.

“Don’t fucking touch her.”, he said in a cold, calm voice. The pap looked at him, more surprised than upset and, just to get a rise out of Timothée, reached for you once again.

It happened a lot faster than you could watch. You just felt a rush of air coming past your face, heard the punch landing in the middle of the paparazzi’s face and then a loud groan coming from the ground.

The guy sat on the ground, holding his nose which was definitely bleeding and whimpered.

“I told you not to touch her.”

Your eyes lingered on Timothée, you felt both pride and fear for him. Was that going to get him in trouble?

You and your boyfriend walked to your car in silence but you couldn’t help but side eye him every few seconds. His usually beaming and bright eyes had taken a darkness to them which you had never seen before.

Back in your apartment, you went to the freezer and grabbed a frozen pack of peas, wrapped them in a towel and gave it to Timmy who sat down on the sofa, sighing.

You kneeled down in front of him and whispered: “Are you okay?”

The darkness left his eyes and was replaced by worry.

“Are you serious? Are you okay?” he slowly caressed your cheek and then took your hand with the not injured one.

“Yeah, I… sure, nothing happened.” You answered.

To be honest, you had been terrified. Sometimes, you even felt a little scared to hug fans when you were outside. To have been kept hold of like that, had frightened you. But you felt ridiculous, nothing bad had happened, and it was only one guy.

“Yes, of course something happened. That… guy,” you could tell that he would have preferred to use a different word, “He shouldn’t have touched you. That’s not okay.”

A small smile crept onto his face. “He deserved that punch.” He grinned.

 Not an hour later, yours and Timmy’s name were trending on Twitter and multiple “News” sites had covered the story.

Creepy paparazzi tried to hurt Y/N Y/L/N!

Timothée Chalamet can punch like hell

Those were just some of the first headlines you saw when you logged onto twitter, along with sweet messages from fans, defending him and you, and shaming the paparazzi.

Of course, the news outlets let everything sound a bit worse than it was and by the end of the day you had read two articles, talking about attempted kidnapping and one about Timmy having beaten the shit out of the guy.

“I’m a hero to the world.”, grinned Timmy while scrolling through the article you had sent him.

“You’re my hero.” You replied and kissed him on the cheek.

[buckysswinter]

the way i loved you

18+ minors dni

warnings: angst, carter being an asshole, oral (f receiving), power play, daddy kink, pet name, degradation kink, reader moving on

not edited or beta'd- do not repost or translate!

playboy!carter baizen x f!reader, nate archibald x f!reader

word count: 2,588

part two of cruel summer

'cause i'm not feeling anything at all; and you were wild and crazy; just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated

she had gotten the invite in her mailbox months ago, in fancy cursive letters to be a plus one for the one and only nate archibald. though she wasn't sure why nate had asked her and she wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to go after the incident with carter baizen. she had sworn off high society since then but nate archibald was different, he was respectful and nice- unlike carter. he had come up to y/n when she was in the upper east side,

-"hey y/n i heard from carter that you had moved away what are you doing back here?" she was surprised he had known her name, so smiled at him politely and replied.

-"oh yeah uh, just coming back for the weekend to deal with some stuff then back to london i go." y/n had saved up enough money from working to move to london, there she was promised a job which would certainly keep her occupied- besides there was no one in new york holding her back from moving anyways, now that carter had broken her heart.

-"london. what a beautiful choice, well i hope you enjoy london and i was hoping that you could do me a favor?" she knew him speaking to her meant he needed something, they always do and in return she nodded at him.

-"you see those paparazzi's behind that restaurant?," she nodded "i need you to pretend that you're happy to see me, like you're my girlfriend, please" nate pleaded with kindness and who was she to refuse that, so she put her best smile on and acted her ass off.

she knew trouble would ensue after that, well because, the articles and tabloids that were associated with those pictures haunted her. she was labeled as nate's new girlfriend or plaything- which she didn't mind because she wasn't in new york anymore, so they couldn't reach her but that meant nate messaging her to let her know that he needed a date to the prestigious cotillion ball for the debutantes. and she knows she should have told him she couldn't go due to work but knowing him, he would pull all the strings so she could go- maybe she was nervous because she didn't want to see the person who hurt her so much, carter. she still wasn't over him, after all it's only been a few months, yet he seemed to forget about her already- photographed with different girls at all times and such. it stung but she knew that if she held onto that heartbreak then it would prevent her from moving on. every now and then y/n has to remind herself the pain carter baizen caused her- tossed her to the side as if she was merely a flesh thing with no feelings and she knew she deserved more than that. so maybe her accepting the invite is also a payback to him, to show him what he lost.

when she landed at new york she expected people to forget who she was after all it's been months since she left new york, since she was photographed with nate yet there was a brigade of paparazzi waiting for her, with their cameras shoved up her face. the anxiety started bubbling, her breathe getting stuck to her throat, this was never the life she wanted and if she really wanted, y/n could turn around and fly back to london-where life is normal. y/n took a deep breath and started making her way to the car, door opened for her and bodyguards holding the paparazzis far from her.

-"courtesy of mr. archibald miss," one of the bodyguards whispered and of course it was, nate archibald was as charming as they come. she thanked both of the bodyguards for not only driving her to her fancy hotel that nate provided but also for protecting her against the paparazzi.

y/n sighed, it's been a few hectic days since she landed back to new york city- her time mostly being spent photographed and trailed. it felt weird getting this much attention for simply being seen with the nate archibald once, yet he was never ashamed of her unlike carter. she really needed to stop comparing him to carter because nate was nice and caring unlike carter who was ruthless. nate also asked for her help and that might be why he was so nice but he set up all the accommodations for her to be back here, a chance to see her parents after she left all those months ago and also paying for everything she would purchase while she's here. she's never felt more cared for and she felt bad when she found out what nate had done,

-"nate you didn't need to pay for my fare or my accommodations i hope you're aware of that, i have some of my money in hand." nate tsked at her statement,

-"y/n i asked you to come here as my date, i have made your life a whirlwind, it's the least i could do." and the conversation was left at that with no room for arguing.

nate had offered for y/n to go to the same dress boutique as everyone in the cotillion did however, she felt uncomfortable surrounded with people she didn't know and what she was truly afraid of was running into blair waldorf. blair wouldn't notice her, she was not someone who was truly breathtaking and she had nothing against blair yet every time she was reminded of blair, she was reminded of carter and that night where she stupidly confessed her love for him- and all he did was give her a pity scoff. so y/n refused nate's offer and went to look for a dress somewhere else which she needed to worry if it was to the other's standard even though nate assured her she could were whatever she liked.

arriving to cotillion felt like walking to a red carpet event, a bunch of paparazzis waiting to see the gowns chosen by this year's debutants- y/n felt special, she wasn't a debutant, she was here ot support nate. her sage green gown dragged on the floor as she prepares to walk down the stairs. her eyes kept on nate until she heard shuffling coming from the left side of the room and then he appeared. it seemed as everything stopped as their eyes locked, y/n's throat tightened and she stumbled a bit. she was the one who looked away, to break the intimate eye contact between them.

carter cleared his throat then apologized for his tardiness when he took blair waldorf's opposite- she should've known carter would be blair's date, after all he had humiliated her feelings that one summer night to replace her with blair. as spiteful as she was y/n didn't feel pain anymore but shame, shame that she let herself love a man like carter baizen. she felt shame all over her body that she let carter baizen treat her so horribly justifying that it was all in the name of love- she let carter possess her body in ways she can't describe because she was so enamored with him. she acted insane in the name of love all because of carter baizen.

as the quartet played the music and the switching of partners came, her breath hitched as soon as she was paired up with carter. he had a sly smile on his face,

-"thought i'd never see you here again kitten," the nickname she once adored felt like venom poisoning her ears then her entire being.

-"you know that's not my name carter. also why wouldn't i be? after all nate archibald invited me," the mention of nate's name seemed to shake him up.

-"nate? you know i could never treat you like i did kitten. i know all the spots, all the actions to make you go stupid and confess your love to me" his mockery felt like fire to her heart, burning the walls she built around it and crushing her heart again, this made her falter a step, crushing carter's foot. then, y/n pushed carter away and ran to the bathroom. looking behind no one had seemed to pay attention to the commotion she created, good.

the fabric of her gown is suddenly irritating her- the slight sensory detail sending her into a panic attack, then the thoughts of what carter said caught up to her. carter baizen mocked her for loving him- all she wanted to do was show him love, a love so intense that she looked past all the times where he threw her aside, times where it felt like she didn't matter until he wanted someone to fuck. so maybe it wasn't love at all the she was feeling for him and she knew that she shouldn't have fallen in love with him, but his charming smile and witty personality pushed her there. she can't even begin to mention how he reacts when she gets close to someone- she had mistaken that for love, the possessiveness he held for her, it was just that and not love. the doubts started coming in her mind, how could she be so stupid to show up here and not expect carter baizen to push her into a state of mental panic?

the slamming of the door caught y/n's attention and as she was about to look up, someone's lips were on hers. y/n's eyes widen as she realizes who it was, she immediately shoves carter off of her.

-"what the fuck is wrong with you carter? you can't just barge in here and kiss me" the anger within her is now projecting onto her voice, who did carter think he was to come onto her like that?

-"nothing's wrong with me kitten. what's wrong is that you came here with the wrong man. come back to me kitten," carter sounded sincere for once in his life, his eyes pleading yet y/n didn't feel sorry for him. he chose to leave her, she threw herself at him and he still decided that she wasn't enough- for him anyways. she decided to play carter's little game the only way she knew how,

-"ok carter, i'll give you one more chance if you drop down to your knees and plead" carter took a second to process what she was asking for, she saw it in his eyes- yet he dropped down, hands together and ready to speak

-"ah ah ah, i didn't ask you to speak yet carter, never asked you to plead with words- plead with your mouth, your tongue daddy" she threw in the pet name to rile him up- there was fire in his eyes after she said that. good, he's reeled in, just enough to make it hurt.

carter smirked up at her, kissing up her smooth legs, dragging his teeth at the side of it. the sight made y/n wet her already drenched thong, she lifted up her dress a bit and carter groaned. never had she thought she'd miss him, yet there they were in the bathroom of a party that she came with someone else with.

carter got to her inner thigh and bit her, it made her yelp-

"you like that kitten? huh?" she merely nodded at his question. y/n sat down on the bathroom counter, opening her legs wider for carter.

-"i asked you a question kitten, do you like it? use your words" the authority in his voice made her shiver.

-"yes daddy, i do please keep going," she didn't know when carter had taken control back but after all this y/n knows that she'll come back on top.

carter lifted her dress up, seeing the wet patch on her thong. he took his teeth and dragged her thong down to her ankles, now he faced her glistening folds,

-"such a pretty pussy kitten, i've missed it" saying carter had missed a part of her body ignited something within her, not butterflies but anger- carter only saw her as someone to fuck and she should have seen it earlier, back when she fell hard for him.

-"i've missed you too daddy," y/n gritted her teeth through her lie, she needed to build him up just to tear him down, just like he did to her.

he put her legs on his shoulders, smelling her sweet scent- his warm wet tongue licking her up. the slow teasing pace made her impatient yet she knew that if she did anything too soon she wouldn't be able to get her revenge on him- so she waited.

-"tastes so good kitten, always does, i can eat you forever," all y/n could do was let out a moan, you better enjoy it carter baizen because this will be the last time.

as carter took her clit in his warm mouth, sucking on it, y/n felt her orgasm coming close,

-"daddy please i'm so close, pleasepleaseplease," she pleaded with him and carter shook his head, with her clit on his mouth which made the feeling come faster,

-"not yet kitten, you don't get to come until i say so," now that she was close to getting her reward she didn't care anymore.

as he put his tongue back on her, y/n trapped carter with her legs and grabbed his hair, grinding her hips to his tongue. she thought carter would have retaliated but he continued to move his tongue against her, even taking two of his fingers and thrusting it in her. the white bliss approached her as carter hit the spongy spot within her. y/n let go as he sucked her clit one last time.

-"damn kitten, i don't know whether to be upset or happy- you taking control was so damn hot," carter tried to come up from his knees to kiss her and y/n took her legs off his shoulders just to push him back down with her hands.

-"nuh uh carter, i didn't say you could get up," the teasing manner in her voice evident, she stooped down to kiss him fiercely which he accepted. she pulled back looking at his eyes before she took one hand off his shoulder to rise it up and then slap.

carter was surprised by the action and y/n smirked at him,

-"never fucking come near me again carter baizen. i don't ever wanna see you," she said it with the utmost sincerity.

carter chuckled,

-"you're just sayin' that cause i broke your heart kitten, come back to me, i'll love you," it was almost as if he was taunting her, and another slap.

-"i fucking mean it carter, i can find men that treat me better than you- for example, nate archibald. he does the right things, says the right things and treats me right- not once did you do any of those just to do it, there always had to be something in return. and the way you made me feel was insane, i felt insane when i was with you, when you were playing me but with nate it's almost as if i can feel peace itself." she looked carter in the eyes and stood up,

-"if you were a better man carter baizen i could have loved you for eternity." and with that she fixed her dress and left him kneeling in the bathroom.

a/n: this was rushed but... carter doesn't get the girl bc he's an asshole!

shameless tags: @extremelyblackandwhite @turbolisedcomet @tharros-auris-black-asimi @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @blackwood-bodecker-housewife

[cherrykindness]

let's make babies |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.

warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪

"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."

Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.

"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."

The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.

As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.

"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.

"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.

"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."

It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.

"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."

"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."

"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."

"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.

The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.

The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.

"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."

"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."

"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."

"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"

Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."

"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."

"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."

"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."

"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."

It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.

"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."

Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.

"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"

"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"

"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.

Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.

She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.

He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.

"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."

The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.

"Are you jealous?"

"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."

"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.

"But I only think about you, I already told you that."

Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.

"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."

The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.

"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"

That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.

[finelinevogue]

I am *respectfully* begging for a oneshot based off the song Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift🥺

okay let’s have a bit of fun with this mwhaha;

The moon was at full peak.

She was sat in the black canvas of a starry sky, shining down on the party below or at least so you thought she was. The flute glasses glowed under her brightness and bubbled with happiness. The pool was reflecting her image so beautifully. Everyone looked amazing in their gorgeous evening outfits of silk and lace, Gucci and Prada, chatting and laughing away as the night was close to striking midnight.

“Such a lovely party, Y/N.” Another guest thanked you, you not having the faintest idea of who they were.

You and Harry were hosting a dinner party in the back garden of his Malibu palace to celebrate his recent success over this past year. He’d had movie after movie, along with an album and a tour. He had done exceptionally well for himself, so he wanted to throw the most lavish party to celebrate with his friends and family that had helped him through it all. You had been in charge of organising food and a live band, Harry in charge of the guest list, Mitch in charge of decorations - bu really it had been Sarah - and Gemma in charge of the drinks; specifically champagne.

“I’m glad.” You smiled, as you poured yourself another glass of the bubbles. You felt the warmth of someones hand slide onto your exposed back, making you shiver with temptation and love.

“Have I told you just how beautiful you look this evening?” Harry spoke softly against your ear, kissing over the skin where his words had touched you.

He had been showing you off all night, always introducing you as ‘my beautiful girlfriend’ and keeping you close to him whenever he could. He would pull out his wallet and show people the picture he kept of you in there. It was one he’d taken of you laughing as you ran away from him on the beach. Even though the photo was black and white it was obvious how happy you were. He loved having you near and whenever someone said that they hadn’t seen you yet, he knew to go straight to the desserts table and find you shovelling yet another chocolate coated strawberry into your mouth not-so-gracefully.

“You have, but I won’t stop you if you want to do it again.” You replied, quite enjoying the flattering compliments. You’d dressed yourself in a silky evening gown that was in a deep red colour and Harry was having a hard time keeping his hands off of you. The front was v-cut, with the back completely open too, so it left your skin exposed for Harry to treat himself to. You turned around in his hold and pushed your body into his, making him hum in appreciation.

“I can’t stop thinking how much I want to kiss you.” He looked at your lips as he spoke, wanting to stain his own lips with the bold colour you’d painted on yours. You were so delicious and he wanted to devour every inch of you.

“Well what’s stopping you?” You reached a hand up to scrunch his curls under your fingers, the bracelets on your arm sliding down and jingling with another.

“Meet me upstairs in 5 minutes.” He replied, making you furrow your eyebrows in curiosity of what he was playing at.

“Should I ask why?”

“You shouldn’t, I don’t want to answer when my mum is standing just across the room.” He made you both chuckle, before leaning back from you to give you a quick once over. “Wow.” He breathed out, the biggest grin to his face. “5 minutes.”

And then he was gone.

You bit your lip as he rushed straight over to his mum and sister, who were both eagerly smiling at him. You couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little more at the sight. He was so innocent and full of love and happiness, you were so in awe of him and his beautiful qualities.

You did a quick scour of the room, making sure there were no unhappy faces, before heading in the direction of the bathroom to freshen up before visiting Harry. As you walked up the stairs you noticed a conversation between one of Harry’s cousins and one of his American friends, it sounded quite argumentative so you went to make sure everything was alright.

“You both okay?” You asked sweetly, your heels clicking on the floor as you approached them.

“God you’re just everywhere aren’t you?” The friend laughed, but you could tell she wasn’t laughing for a joke.

“I’m sorry?” You asked shocked at her tone, wondering what the problem was here.

“You’re so up in everyone else’s business always.”

“I don’t understand—”

“No of course you don’t. God, I understand why Harry finds you so annoying and clingy.”

“Kia—” The cousin gasped in shock of Kia’s words.

“No, you know i’m right Rachel just be quiet.” Kia shushed Rachel and brought her attention back to you.

“Harry thinks i’m clingy?” You asked, trying to understand what was really going on.

“That amongst lots of other things.”

“He would never. He loves me.” Your argued, slight tears in your eyes from letting her get to you like this. It was different than tabloids because you were actually hearing it from someone’s mouth, rather than an edited and faceless article. It stung so much more.

“And? Did you really think he would ever stick around for someone like you?” Kia laughed and then walked off, strutting her and her perfect body away from you and back to the main party area. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, trying to understand what her words truly meant to you.

“Y/N…” Rachel tried to console you, but you didn’t want her. You wanted Harry and yet now you didn’t.

“Do you think all that too?” You asked quietly, scared to hear an answer. You got your answer though when she spoke nothing and tilted her head down in shame. You understood. “Okay, thank you.” You quietly said and tried your best to smile, but you knew it didn’t reach your eyes.

You started walking towards the stairs, thinking what this all meant. You always had a back thought that Harry was too good for you, but you just never let yourself be put in the position to think upon that thought. Now though. Now, you were thinking.

Of course you would be naive enough to think that your happily ever after would be with the one man who’s heart could be taken by every other woman on the planet. Even your university teacher had once talked about having a crush on him and he had only been 21 at the time. You never thought here, when he was 27, would you possibly be the one to hold his heart. You did, though, but it wouldn’t be forever - Kia was right, Rachel was right. Everyone knew, but you were just too blinded by his love for you right now to think that it will just wilt away in the future. You were a rose, beautiful and in it’s prime as it flourished on the love it was fed, but after time when even the smallest amounts of love are forgotten to be given the rose wilts and so dies. It’s forgotten about in turn and left to degrade itself into oblivion.

You walked the stairs slowly, completely numb to your core. How could all of 5 minutes turn your emotions 180° and permanently? Your brain ran over the thoughts and little moments that you should’ve picked up on before. Like, when Harry forgot your anniversary and blowing it off that he had been at some work-do but he’d really been at Karlie Kloss’ birthday party. Like, when Harry stopped sending you postcards when he was on tour. Like, when he did that heart-rate test and saw a picture of Camille, looking utterly stunning, on the Victoria Secret runway his heart beat was incredibly high. Is that what he wanted 30 years from now? A model? Someone who was in the same business as him and could understand. You tried to, you really did, but it was starting to feel like maybe you weren’t to be enough.

Making your way down the hallway this way, you couldn’t help but feel like it was for the last time. There was this gut feeling that whatever Harry wanted you for, was going to make sure you were both reminded why you couldn’t be together.

“Damn. You’re a vision.” Harry whistled and you then spotted him at the end of the hallway, the moon shining in through the window and lighting him up like the pure angel he was. You weren’t worthy of his heart. You could only chuckle, not having the passion to make a flirty comment back. Not anymore.

“Listen Harry—” “Okay I have to ask you—” You both talked at the same time, bringing only a nervous chuckle to your face.

“You first.” He offered.

“No, you.” You offered back and he took it.

“Okay, alright.” He breathed in heavily. “You’re so beautiful.” He started, making you blush a little but it was dim up here so you weren’t worried about him noticing. Hopefully he didn’t see the sadness in your eyes either.

“Thank you.” You replied humbly.

“And I want to be able to wake up and tell you that every single day—”

“Harry…” You cut him off, your heart having just dropped so low to the floor.

“Yes?”

“Is this…”

“If you let me continue, yes.” He laughed, thinking that you were happy for him to continue. He was about to, but you cut him off.

“Don’t.” You said, a shake in your voice that was very apparent.

“Don’t— what?” He asked confused, stepping closer to you and only for you to step back. He stopped when he noticed that he would not be able to make distance to you, furrowing his eyebrows and looking hurt. Really hurt. Pain that you and you alone were causing him.

“Don’t ask me the question I think you’re about to.” You held of your hand to both stop him coming closer and to stop him talking. “Just don’t.”

“Baby… what?” Harry asked confused, tears visible in his eyes now. He just wanted to be near you and understand.

“Harry… Don’t make me say it.” You warned him.

“Say what?”

“Harry…”

��Y/N, say what?”

“No!” You shouted, loud enough that people downstairs might’ve heard. “No, Harry. No. I won’t marry you.” You started to cry and let the tears fall freely. You deserved to feel like your heart had been ripped from your chest, the same way you deserved to cry forever. You deserved nothing but pain to repay the damage you’d caused Harry.

“Wha—” He started, but you were too selfish to stick around and watch him crumble. You shot off down the hallway and down the stairs, making your way to the front door. Luckily you didn’t have to go through the masses of people to face the disappointing faces. Luckily no one had to see your cries, except Kia. She was stood by the front door, holding out your coat already as if she were waiting for you.

“Kia what—”

“You thought this evening was for Harry? No. It was for you.” She shoved your coat to you, making you stumble back from the force.

“What?”

“This was your surprise engagement party, with the surprise being the fucking engagement. Everyone knew about it apart from you. He had this plan of asking you and then coming downstairs to everyone yelling surprise. Seems like you fucked that up though.” She sneered at you and your sobs fell from your throat harder than before, your makeup ruining the prettiness of your face as it ran from all the salty tears.

“But you…”

“I what? Said a bunch of bullshit? I was only saying things you’ve heard a million times before. I was making sure you were the right person for our Harry. Seems like you’re far from it.” She chuckled, shaking her head in disappointment at you.

“You’re cruel.”

“No, Y/N, you are. You just did the one thing that I would’ve never done; break Harry’s heart.” She looked at you in disgust before opening the door for you. You gave her one last look, hate in her eyes for you, before you walked outside with the door slamming forcefully behind you. Your heart being left besides Harry’s broken one.

[roger-that-cap]

peace

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: natasha wanted to marry you more than she wanted everything, but how was she supposed to propose to you and ask you to be hers forever when she couldn’t give you even the simplest of things?

warnings: so this is minimal angst, don’t be fooled, this is fluff, ya know the drill. this may or may not be cheesy, but i tried 

word count: 6.4k, short and sweet 

so, i listened to peace by taylor swift while i wrote this one. take that information how you wish lollll. also, not edited!

Natasha met you years ago. You were the bright eyed girl at the front counter of an ice cream shop near the tower, soft serve shop. Natasha, ever the reader of mankind, immediately knew that you were kind, patient and simply sweet. Sweeter than the vanilla cone she had treated herself to, the one that you had made yourself because your coworkers were on an extra long break that wasn’t exactly authorized. 

  You knew who she was, but you didn’t ask her for anything. No autograph, no murmuring of a catchphrase, nothing about whether or not Captain America would be into you. Natasha admired that. She loved that she saw the flash of excitement and recognition in your eyes, but that it never went further than you asking her if she wanted sprinkles. 

 That one encounter led to many more. Soon, you two were on a date, after you had been brave enough to ask if she wanted to go on a picnic in the park after she kept coming into the store. And that one date was enough for you both to know that you wanted to see each other again, and again, and again. 

You and Natasha spent two months dating each other before making it official, and it was the best decision either of you had ever made. 

You made her feel like she was needed and loved, and she made you feel like you were cherished and safe. The feeling that you got when you looked at her was just so… natural. You weren’t worried about angering her, or about messing up in front of her. She made you feel calm, and one look at her washed all the jitters out of your nerves easily. 

And in return, there was no one on the entire planet that made Natasha as happy as you did. You were the one, and it was almost over night when she realized that you were it. 

One night, she was in bed next to you after a long day of training recruits and having a briefing for an upcoming mission. She had only been in your apartment for about twenty minutes, just lying in your gentle and welcoming arms, and she was fighting the urge to nod off where she felt safest. She was tired, but she knew one thing above everything else, and it was that she wasn’t going to waste an entire night with you because she wanted to sleep. 

“You don’t have to stay awake, sprinkles.” You said to her in the dark room, your hand smoothing her hair. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day.” Maybe that’s when Natasha should have noticed. When the urge to talk to you was stronger than the drive that she had while training recruits, or when she nearly forgot that she couldn’t go home early because of how much she was just ready to. 

“I won’t be upset, you work hard,” you said softly. “You deserve some peace and quiet. Sleep, I’ve got you.” 

Natasha did a few things for the first time in a long time that night. 

One: she felt at peace enough to fall asleep immediately. 

Two: she went to sleep with the sound of someone humming in her ear. 

Three: she realized that she was completely in love with her girlfriend. 

There were plenty of times that hinted to her that she was falling in love. She looked for you or an essence of you everywhere, from seeing something the color of your eyes to looking over at your favorite brand of yogurt in the grocery store and contemplating buying it. Whenever you smiled, she couldn’t help but grin twice as big. If you laughed, she was happy. When you were upset, she wanted nothing more than to make it better, than to eliminate whatever it had been that made you feel that way. She would do anything for you. And she really believed that you would do anything for her right back. 

 Your relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was damn near it. It was the thing Natasha was most proud of, just like you were the person that Natasha was proudest of to call hers. And she wanted that. She wanted you to be hers for the rest of your life, and she wanted nothing more than to be officially yours. 

And that was why she stood in a high end jewelry store that specialized in special rings, closed for two hours from the public just for her. And Tony and Steve, who desperately wanted to tag along. 

  Tony was more of the planner and the doer. He was the one pointing out the rings that seemed pretty, the ones that looked like they would fit your style. He was the businessman, ready to negotiate price even though he could easily afford the entire store ten times over. Steve, however, was the mother hen. Hovering mostly silently, an excited buzz flowing out and touching everyone else in the vicinity. He was excited for Natasha, it was obvious, and he also wanted to make her feel as comfortable and ready as possible. 

  “That one’s pretty, isn’t it?” Tony muttered, pointing towards an intricate ring with a diamond in the middle of the studded band. “Y/N likes stuff like that.” 

“No she doesn’t,” Steve cut in, and he pointed to a ring that was quite literally the opposite of the one Tony was referring to. It was a simple ring, one with a silver band and a decently sized diamond in the middle. It was clearly an engagement ring, but it wasn’t flashy. “That one is probably closer to what she’d like.” 

Everyone in the tower knew you well. Natasha made sure that you knew her friends well when you two started to get really involved. You introduced her to your siblings and parents, and she let you meet her own family, the Avengers. Natasha remembered the day that you met everyone vividly. Everyone had loved you immediately, and she was so proud of the way that you handled yourself while being so nervous. Hell, she was always proud of you. 

  You made fast and sturdy friendships with everyone and fit in well, and that was all Natasha could ever ask for. Eventually, she started to bring you over at least once a week just to hang out with everyone, to get you familiar with every member of her found family. 

  Perhaps that was another sign that she should have taken and read. She had never introduced a significant other to the family that she cherished so much, not once before you. 

“Steve’s right,” Natasha murmured, and she heard Tony’s playful scoff. “But I have no idea when I’m going to actually do it.”

 “You don’t have a trip planned?” Tony asked incredulously. “Well, I can schedule anything you want, whenever you want. Just ask me.” 

Natasha knew exactly what Tony was referring to. He had gone above and beyond for every romantic gesture that was ever for Pepper, and Natasha knew that your relationship wasn’t like that. You didn’t need grand gestures or long trips to beaches. The both of you were happier than ever just being with each other. She knew that you would cry in the middle of a Wendy’s if she popped the question there and held her hand patiently waiting for the ring. The location mattered the least. 

“We probably won’t do a trip, that’ll make it obvious.” There was one thing that Natasha was very picky about that had to do with the whole affair, and that was surprise. She wanted you to be the most pleasantly surprised you had ever been in your life, and she wanted to watch those beautiful eyes of yours light up and start to water in the most joyous of ways. She wanted the cheesy hand-over-heart move, the hand grabbing, the excited chatter of a small gathering of random people looking. And most of all, she wanted to hear your elated yes and she wanted to slip the ring onto your ring finger, and she never wanted to see it off from that moment on. 

But that was just her. 

Natasha, Steve, and Tony spent another hour in the jewelry store. The owner was buzzing around, clearly excited for the amount of business that their presence was sure to rope in. He took a picture of them and promised not to release it until Natasha proposed, even though he was quite literally bursting at the seams to brag about it. In the end, Natasha ended up getting a pretty ring with a silver band and a nice sized diamond, simple and just your type. 

They were on their way out when Tony spotted paparazzi. He stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Okay, I’ll go first to lead them away.” 

“Why?” 

“If Y/N sees you on a tabloid at a ring shop with me and Steve… the surprise is up.” Tony made a clicking noise with his tongue and left without anything else to say, strolling out and indeed leading all of the people with cameras away from the shop, all of them entranced by the billionaire. 

To be safe, Natasha and Steve waited for a few more minutes before walking out and getting jumbled in with the crowd. Her grip on the bag was tight, and she was holding the box in her hand through it. So, are you excited?” 

“Not as excited as you,” she teased, but even she could hear the nerves in her voice. “I just don’t wanna ruin anything.” 

  “Please,” Steve scoffed. “Y/N is so in love with you that I forget that you two aren’t already married, honestly.” 

  Steve saying it aloud made Natasha’s heart race, even though she already knew that. That was one of the million wonderful qualities about you. She never had to ask you for validation, because you told her with everything you did. You tapped her hand three times at parties. You whispered it into her ear before you both went to sleep. You kissed her cheek or her jaw when she started to get antsy, and rubbed her back while you did it. Every touch, every kiss, every breath that the both of you took told the other that you loved them. There was no question about that. 

“So, what are you worried about? She’ll say yes. Everyone knows that.”

If only Steve knew that it was so much more than you saying a three letter word instead of a two letter one. 

They walked back in silence to the tower, comfortable silence between two friends who were both deep in their own heads even as they swiped their clearance cards and went into the elevator. 

§§

Natasha always felt bad when she lied to you, no matter how small or white the lie was. One day, it was small and for the both of you, but it still didn’t smooth the guilt. 

She had told you that she had a late night meeting, top secret, and that she would call you when you could come up in her room. “So, that’s the plan.” 

“You’re gonna pop the question of your lives in the park?” Tony asked, a brow quirked upwards. “Well, to each their own.” 

Wanda rolled her eyes. “That’s a really sweet idea, Nat. Tony, here, is just annoying.” 

“Thank you, Wanda.” Natasha said, and then turned to the billionaire. “So, what would you do, then?” 

“I would go on a crui-”

“Yeah, I’m thinking Nat wants a more casual approach,” Sam said, giving Tony a once over. “So the park would be great.” 

“I know,” she said absentmindedly, thoughts already on the next hour, where she would be on the couch in her quarters with you, watching one of your favorite shows together. 

“We’re still allowed to come, right?” Wanda asked, gently bringing Natasha out of her thoughts. 

“Of course.” That was another thing she really wanted. Her family had to see everything happen first hand, that was non negotiable. “Just lurk in the shadows, she’ll know what's happening if she sees all of you.” 

That night, she left the tower to go to your apartment rather than just have you come over and swipe your card that Tony had made you. She figured that the less people around that knew about the proposal, the less likely it was that someone was going to spoil it. 

  She wasn’t an idiot. Weddings were special to you. Hell, when you were younger, you used to want to be a wedding planner. Natasha knew that a goal in your life was to be loved by someone so much that they wanted to spend their life with you, and luckily, the both of you found that in each other. 

  “Baby,” Natasha called when she stepped through the threshold of your apartment, her ears already pricked up as she heard the television coming from the room that you had moved half of her belongings into. She smiled as she walked closer, purposely making her footfalls a little louder so that she didn’t startle you. 

  You were smiling at her when she opened the door to the bedroom, and Natasha felt her heart stutter for a second as she caught her bearings. “Hi, sprinkles. How was work?” 

She would never get tired of the sound of your voice. “It was alright.” Natasha walked over to you, and you leaned into her hand, the same one that always reached for your face and cradled your cheek, her own little greeting. “You weren’t there, so.” 

“Sadly I was doing soft serve,” you said, rolling your eyes at the customers you had encountered. “And one woman was particularly… not nice.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” Natasha said softly, pulling you closer. “At least now all you have to worry about is sitting down in time to catch your show.” 

“That is my only worry,” You agreed playfully. “Come sit, I’m tired. And I know you are, too.” 

§§

Natasha thought that she was going to do it as you walked through the park, on a trail that the rest of the Avengers were following you on flawlessly. She was surprised that they could keep that quiet for that long, especially Steve, with his non-stealthy physique and training. But they were doing it. In a way, it made Natasha worried out of her mind that you couldn’t feel that five people were trailing you. But she forced that part of her mind, the one that was always so overwhelmed with the need to keep you close and safe, to the back of her mind, and instead felt for the little box in her pocket. 

“Oh, do you hear that bird singing?” You asked softly, trying not to disturb the peace. She watched your eyes scan the tips of the trees, watching as a smile grew on your face and planting one of her own. “I wish I could see it.” 

“You go bird watching all the time,” Natasha mused at you, and you snorted a bit. 

“But we never really sit down and do it together,” you said after a moment, and just like that, Natasha’s excitement was dried out. Her fingers left the box in her jacket pocket, and her hand swung at her side with the other held by your hand. 

“What?” 

“We just don’t do it much, ‘s all.” Like you sensed that you had said something that changed the mood of your little stroll, you turned to look at her. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

But there was. There was everything wrong with that statement. Mostly because it was one hundred percent true. The two of you didn’t have any time to bird watch or stargaze like you wanted to. And it wasn’t on your end, no, it was on her’s. 

She came home late more often than not. She left early in the morning, sometimes before the sun even rose. She was sent on missions that were weeks long, sometimes even months. Sometimes, she didn’t even get to warn you or say goodbye before she had to get on a quinjet, just up and leaving and sending a text, apologizing for things she couldn’t control. 

  “Nat?” She hadn’t even realized that she stopped walking. But she had. Her arm was stretched out towards you because you hadn’t dropped her hand yet, and you closed the gap between the two of you with a look of concern on your face. “You okay?” 

“Um, yeah.” She cleared her throat and rubbed her face with her hand, blinking a few times as the familiar guilty feeling burned in her chest like acid. “Wanna keep walking?” 

For the rest of the walk, Natasha was stuck in her head. She was good at multitasking, so she indulged you and your words to the best of her ability while she thought about how terrible she felt for you. She couldn’t even take you birdwatching. And she thought that you would want to marry her? 

“Are you ready to head back, darling?” Natasha asked once the sun started to finally make its retreat, and after she felt that the others had left and were far ahead of them. They knew her just as well as you did, and they knew that it wasn’t the day that she was going to ask. 

“As long as it’s with you,” you murmured, and then you turned around to press your lips to hers in an innocent, binding kiss, and then pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Natasha said back just as sincerely, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you right in the trail, closing her eyes tight and waiting for the feet and doubt to subside. 

It didn’t. 

§§

It took two more failed attempts for Steve to finally come knocking on her door one night. The night of the third failed proposal attempt, everyone was anxious to see a ring on your finger, and everyone just wanted it to be done so that they could plan the wedding. 

 Natasha was not on the same page. 

At first, the team was confused. Natasha’s love for you never wavered. It was as certain as the sun rising and falling, as the tide coming in and going out. It was constant, and it never faltered. So her backing out of making it official, of finally tying to knot with you, confused everyone. And then, they thought about what exactly made the change in conversation.   

  Wanda was the one to crack the code. She subtly picked at Natasha’s mind during the last of the failed proposals, and when she came back out into the present, she didn’t seem surprised at all. 

  The first thing that Wanda said when they all got back to the car was, “she doesn’t think that she’s enough.” 

Doubt. 

Natasha Romanoff never doubted herself. She was the best assassin in the world, capable of literally anything that she put her mind to. She had no reason to doubt herself. Until she started to work for someone else, not just for herself.

  “What is she doubting?” Tony muttered, the exhaustion at watching one of the boldest people he knew dancing around a woman who clearly loved her to death. “Y/N is going to say yes. She would say it if Nat asked her on the toilet.” 

 “No, it’s not that,” Wanda said softly, shaking her head. “She thinks that she’s… neglecting her. That her presence isn’t often enough. She feels guilty about her job.” 

 Silence. 

That was something many of them who had relationships dealt with. The balance between domestic life and life as an Avenger was hard to achieve. Not only did the Avenger have to know when to separate things. The Avenger also had to find someone who knew what they did, what their job entailed, and that they would both have to make sacrifices.  You knew how to do those things. So what was the problem?

“Y/N takes the distance and the danger really well,” Steve stated. “So, what’s the problem?” 

Wanda shrugged. “There was… there was more. But I didn’t have enough time to really see.” 

  While the others tried to figure out what was going on the the former assassin’s brain, Natasha was back in her room, sitting and twiddling her thumbs as she thought. Her eyes kept going back to the box, resting on it very now and then before she looked away in apprehension.  

 There were three knocks on her door, way too harsh and precise to be you. Besides, you hardly ever knocked, just as she never knocked on your door. “Um,” Natasha started, and then her brows furrowed as she put the ring in a drawer just in case. “Come in.” 

Steve Rogers was standing at her door, arms crossed, a slightly disappointed look set on his face. “What’s up?” 

Natasha raised a perfect brow. “You came to my room, Cap.” She crossed her arms as well, even though they both knew that neither was on the defensive. “Are you okay?” 

“Why haven’t you done it yet?” 

Her heart dropped to her toes, but she knew how to control her facial expressions. She was sure that she would never lose that skill, no matter how old she got and how much she would start to forget things. “Done what?” 

Steve shut the door. “You haven’t proposed to her yet. Why not?” 

“The time wasn’t right.” 

“That’s a lie.” 

She wasn’t used to Rogers calling her out so fast. Typically, she was an A list liar, and the only person she failed at lying to was you. She rarely ever did that, and when she did, it was for the better. Like, when she would tell you that she would be back within a few hours knowing that it would be about two nights still. Or when she would tell you that she wasn’t hurt, knowing good and well she had been bleeding out five minutes not even two minutes before she made the call. 

The second lie that came to mind came flying out of her mouth. “I’m scared she’ll say no.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, to Natasha’s surprise and sligh humor. “She’d find a way to say yes to you even in the afterlife, Natasha. You can’t play the lying game. Not with me, not with us, and especially not with her.” 

“Why are you so worked up right now?” 

“Because you deserve happiness, and it’s right there in front of you. You’re throwing it away, for what?” 

  “I never said that I wasn’t going to propose,” the redhead defended, but Steve just put his hands on his hips. 

 “I can see it in your eyes. You’re not going to unless someone pushes you, and because Y/N can’t in this situation, then I will.” His “Captain” voice was on. “It’s much more than you being worried about something that won’t ever happen, so what’s wrong, Natasha?” 

Natasha stood there for a second, her eyes narrowed on him as her face stayed still, and her mind raced a thousand miles an hour. She pursed her lips after a few seconds and breathed in, trying to decide whether or not to spill everything to one of the people that she trusted the most in life, one of the few that she trusted with her very life itself. Her mouth started moving before she could even approve its speech. 

 “Because of who I am and what I do, I can never give her what she deserves. I can never give her the suburban life, the calm life, the one where all she has to worry about is whether or not she’ll have to go to the store to get more cheese. I can never give her that.” 

 “I have money, she’ll never have to worry about going hungry or not being able to do things, yes, but at what cost? At the cost of me leaving her by herself one day for forever because of one wrong step? At the cost of me not being there to hold her at night or wake up with her in the morning? I can’t even do simple things with her like stargazing because I don’t have time for it. I don’t have time for her, do you realize how horrible that is? How terrible I feel?” 

Whatever Steve was expecting, it surely wasn’t that. Natasha was never one to have an outburst, even with the people she was the most comfortable with. But there she was, spilling all of the feelings she had been harboring within seconds, her eyes resting on Steve’s as they both refused to look away for more than a few seconds at a time. 

  “I can never give her a calm life without worry, or without pain. She’ll have to be scared about whether or not I got shot in Siberia, or if I’m rotting somewhere at the bottom of a cliff, or if I’m a prisoner halfway across the world. All I bring to the table is worry, and all I want to give her is what she gives me every second I’m with her. Peace. I want that so badly, and she deserves it more than anything. And I can’t give it to her.” 

Steve was silent for a moment, and a singular moment turned into two. “Have you ever asked her what she wants?” 

 The question stopped Natasha’s erratic thoughts in their tracks. “What?” 

 “Natasha, she’s been with you for years now, and I’ve never heard her complain about your job. I’ve never even seen her cry about you being gone more than anyone else would. She knows what you do, and she knew that when she agreed to be your girlfriend. She wouldn’t have stayed with you if she couldn’t handle it.” 

 “How do I know she’s handling it?” 

“Ask her.” Steve said softly, like he was nudging her with his words alone. “You’ll only know if you ask her.” 

  As she drove to your apartment that night, her mind was buzzing with nerves. “Ask her,” she mocked, making her voice deeper. “Not that easy.” 

  The door was open when she got there, enough to make Natasha shout your name with anxiety in her voice, and that sound was enough to make you come poking your head out from the kitchen. 

“You alright, sprinkles?” 

Natasha could breathe again. And when she inhaled, she smelled chicken in the air. She grinned. “Perfect now,” she said, shutting the door, locking it, and walking over to you. 

§§

It hit her in bed with you that she should bring it up. You two always had conversations before bed, it didn’t matter what about. Sometimes, the conversations were as serious as a heart attack, and other times, they were about whether or not Candyland was a good game. That night, it was leaning on the more serious side. 

  “Y/N,” Natasha called softly, and you hummed in response. “Do you… are you happy? With me?” 

The soft humming that was coming from your throat cut off abruptly at the question, a question Natasha had never asked you before. To say that you were confused was an understatement. You two had almost always been on the same page, and if one of you were to be unhappy, the other would know. “Of course I am, Natasha. Why? What’s wrong?” 

 “Do you think that my job complicates things between us?”

Natasha sat up after you did, looking at her like she was in the process of growing a second head. “What?” Before she couldn’t say much else, you were talking again. “Who put that idea into your head? No, your job doesn’t put a strain on us, unless you feel something on your side?” 

  “No, no,” Natasha rushed out. “I just… I don't want you to feel like I’m neglecting you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not getting what you need from me, as a w-girlfriend.” 

 “Natasha,” your voice was soft in the night, a satisfied and sweet whisper that never failed to calm her nerves. “You give me everything I could ever ask for. You always have, and I think you always will. Is this about stargazing?” 

  “What?” 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you got weird when we were walking in the park,” you said softly, your fingers tracing little hearts on her back. “I told you that we didn’t go stargaze or bird watching together, and you got upset. Is that what this is about?” 

  She couldn’t lie to you. “Somewhat.” 

“Oh, Nat,” you said, and you pulled her closer to you, resting your head on her chest and listening to her heartbeat, steady and constant. “I don’t care about that. All I care about is you.” 

 “Do you even see enough of me?” 

“Your job does not affect me whatsoever,” you answered. “I knew who you were and what you did when I asked you to go to that picnic with me, remember? I knew exactly what you did, and I knew around how much I could or could not be seeing you. I knew everything. So, why would I back out now after all these years? And why would I leave you?” 

  You had no idea how soothing your words were to Natasha in that moment. To you, it was just reassurance, affirmative words. To her, it was everything. It was the solution to all of her worries regarding the ring that was in her dresser back at the Tower. 

  “The point is, I could wait up for you to get home until four in the morning and make dinner for you after a long mission every day for the rest of my life, if you wanted me to.” The tracing of hearts never stopped on Natasha’s skin, but her breathing surely did for a second. “Because, what’s losing a few days compared to sharing a lifetime?” 

  Natasha smiled as the fear washed out of her system like it had never been there. More or less, you had just confessed to her that you wanted to be with her for a lifetime, and that for that lifetime, you didn’t mind any of the things that she was worried about. She was going to do it.  

§§

  After a short chat with the team, Natasha was finally ready. Like they could all tell that it was the day, they gave her a serious pep talk and Tony even muttered his premature congratulations, even though Wanda insisted that saying it before was a form of bad luck. 

 The plan was set. She was going to get you from work, pretend like you were going to go to dinner, and then take you stargazing. And then, she was going to pop the question. And hopefully, most likely, you were going to say “yes”. 

 When her car rolled up to the windows of your store while you were cleaning, you laughed. “Hi, Nat! What’s up?” 

 “Just here to pick you up,” she said with a smile, and your grinned at her. 

  “Alright, give me fifteen.” 

By the time you had gotten home, gotten dressed and were both seated in the car, Natasha’s hands were sweaty, and the weight of the little box was somehow heavier than anything Natasha had ever carried before. Her leg was bouncing up and down in the driver’s seat, and she hoped that you paid no mind to it. 

 “It’s pretty tonight,” you mused, and she nodded.  

“Yep, very clear.” And it was pure luck. She thanked all the gods that were ever worshipped that it was a clear night. “You can see everything.” 

“Yeah, you can.” 

“Do you… do you wanna go look at the stars?” She asked, and you turned your head to the side to look at her, a spark in your eyes that had just caught flame. 

  “You didn’t reserve anything, right?” 

Natasha had forgotten about the fake dinner already, her eager mind already onto the next stage. “Oh? No. I didn’t.” 

 “Then, we should ditch the food and do that. I’ll make you dinner after.”

 When Natasha parked on the side of the road, it was empty. It was emptier than it usually was at night, and the closest street lights were off. It made it much easier to see the stars. You were the first one to sit down on the dry grass, and you patted the spot beside you, urging Natasha to sit down with you. The second she did, you laid down and sighed, eyes on the sky. 

After a few moments of holding hands with eyes to the stars, roaming the dark blue sky in silence, you quietly began to speak. “It’s so pretty,” you murmured. “I haven’t done this in forever, and I hardly remember what it was like, but I can’t imagine that any other time could have been better than a time with you.” 

  Natasha turned her head into your neck, resting it there like she always did. “I love you,” she whispered, and you shivered at the intensity laced between the three words, the sincerity warming your heart. “I love you so much.” 

  “And I love you,” you responded, just as genuinely. You tapped her hand three times with your pointer finger, saying it twice. “More than I love the stars.” 

You two stayed there for hours, just watching the sky and ignoring the dull hunger pains that kept leaving and coming back. You spent a little time pointing out constellations, and Natasha told you how to navigate using the stars. Eventually, it was time to leave, and Natasha reached her hand out to you once she stood up. 

Natasha slowly walked you towards the car, but you didn’t notice how out of character it was for her to walk without a sense of urgency in the moment. She knew that you couldn’t hear their footsteps, but she could. They were soft and familiar, trying not to alert you of their presence, and they were succeeding. Natasha cleared her throat softly and swallowed her fears.

“Y/N,” she started, and you furrowed your brows at the usage of your name. “Do you remember how we first met?” 

You stopped walking, your back towards the approaching people. “Of course I do,” you responded, a smile on your face as you reminisced. “You ordered a cone with no sprinkles, what a weirdo.” 

 “Is it weird for me to say that I knew?” 

“Knew what?” 

“I knew that you were going to be a part of my life somehow. Whether it was going to be a friendship, a relationship, or even just an acquaintanceship, I didn’t know. But I knew you’d be around.” 

“That’s so sweet, Tasha.” Your bottom lip poked out and you went in to hug her, closing your eyes as you held her tight and then pulled away. “I think I knew after our third date.” 

Natasha cracked a smile, even though she felt like she was going to throw up. “Coney Island?” 

“Coney Island,” you confirmed, eyes glimmering under the starlight. Natasha was about to get lost in them, well on her way, before she shook her head and cleared her throat again, checking behind you discreetly to make sure that everyone was hiding before she turned you both sideways, so that your side profiles were visible to the others. 

“But… you have the most beautiful soul that I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. You're everything I could ever dream of asking for, and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. You’re my day and night, my high tide and low tide, and you’re the only person I’ll ever admit that I need. Because it’s true. You give me a peace that I never hoped to ever receive from anything, and I love you even more for that. You are just… you’re the one for me. And I…” she swallowed as her eyes tore away from yours, and she wiped her sweaty palms on her jacket. “I’m sorry I’m no good at speeches, but I...”

   She reached into both pockets at the same time and pulled the box out in a swift movement, and before you even knew what she had done, she was on one knee right in front of you. A strangled noise came from your throat, a gasp and a sigh all the same, and then you put one hand over your mouth. 

 Natasha’s eyes were watering, and so were yours. “I would be the luckiest woman in the world, the most privileged and honored person in the entire universe, if you let me marry you.” 

 There was utter silence for a second besides your harsh and surprised breathing. Then, a gasp left your mouth. “Natasha!” You shrieked, a hand still over your mouth as the tears ran down your face, reflecting the joy you felt on the inside. Your emotions roared and rushed inside of you, like a furious river of elation. You blinked rapidly, but you were so happy that your eyes didn’t even get that familiar burning feeling that came with the tears. 

“Is that even a fucking question?” You bent down to her level and your lips met hers, passionately and full of love and relief. Neither of you noticed the clapping and cheers after being so immersed in each other. 

 Natasha pulled away, a shit-eating grin on her face as she started to say something to you, right when you noticed everyone else around you. “Wait, baby, let me put the-”

“Have you been here the whole time?” You shouted towards the rest of the team, who were all watching with proud and excited expressions, and Wanda nodded. 

  “Most of the time,” she grinned, and you wiped the tears from your face, only to see the one and only Tony Stark recording you and Natasha, who was still on one knee in front of you, holding one of your hands. 

  “Can I?” Natasha asked from her kneeling position, gesturing towards the ring, and you nodded excitedly. She slipped it on your left ring finger, and you yanked her up with such excitement that she was sure that one of her bones popped, but she didn’t care. She kissed you again, a sweet and meaningful kiss, before she hugged you tightly. 

 “Thank you.” 

You would have been confused if you weren’t on a high.  You were going to get married. To Natasha. You were going to have forever with her, like you always wanted. “For what?” 

She kissed the shell of your ear softly, and then your jaw and cheek, right where you always kissed her. “For everything, darling.” You leaned back into her, your face in her neck, and she made brief eye contact with her friends, who were all looking at the display of affection with soft eyes and even more tender hearts. She closed her eyes as she felt your heart beating against her chest, savoring the feeling of being so close to the woman that she loved unconditionally, her soon-to-be wife. “For everything.” 

****

hey guys! hope y’all liked this one, i wrote it in two hours, and then thought about deleting it, but here she stands. if you liked it, feel free to like and reblog! comments are also widely appreciated, i love those! also, i wanna make friends up here so feel free to blow up my messages! hope you have a great day/night 💕

[existslikepristin]

Impromptu Review

Thanks for editing this one goes to momirene and Worldsover, and for helpful beta reading feedback from them and one dork who wants to remain anonymous.

Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, SNSD (Girl's Generation), Joy, Sunny, loneliness, potential traumatization of cats, a hoard of hell-themed sex toys, a strap on, a butt plug with Jiu's face in it, and bisexual problems.

The front door of Sunny’s apartment swung open so fast that Joy felt a breeze from the vacuum it left behind.

“Joy! You’re here!”

Joy blinked. “Yeah, I said I would come over.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve met up! Come in, come in!”

“It’s only been like a month though.”

Sunny grabbed Joy’s hands and pulled her through the doorway. “It feels like so much longer than that!”

Joy smiled and took her shoes off in the entryway. “You seem more excited than usual.”

“What? How so?”

“Well for one,” Joy said, pointing at the kitchen, “It looks like you prepared for a whole party in here.”

The kitchen’s island was covered in plates of snacks and several variations of alcoholic beverages. Additionally, Sunny was noticeably sweaty, like she had just run around the house preparing for guests. Joy figured it would be best not to bring that up.

“What? No. That? That’s… yeah, that’s a lot of food, isn’t it?” Sunny’s posture drooped, as if she’d already expended all of her energy on her greeting.

Joy pulled her into a side hug. Her height served to straighten Sunny back up. “What’s going on, girl?”

Sunny sighed and leaned her head on Joy’s chest. “I dunno. I’m just excited. Haven’t had a good social night any time recently.”

“Aw! But what about these cutie kitties?”

Sogeum popped her head out from behind the wall and gave Joy her signature droopy, grim stare without so much as a meow. As soon as Joy shuffled in her direction though, she turned and went back into the living room.

“Well, you know. Can’t really have a real conversation with the cats.”

Joy hummed her agreement and stepped into the kitchen. “I’m always happy to talk to you Sunny. They don’t call SM a family for nothing.”

Sunny groaned, loudly.

“Um. Okay,” Joy said when Sunny didn’t elaborate. “Not a family? Just a bunch of really close friends?”

“Yeah, that’ll work better. Not a fan of the family motif.”

Joy picked up a cracker and chomped down. “Gonna… explain? Family is normally a positive thing, isn’t it?”

Sunny grabbed a bottle of wine and yanked the cork out. “Yeah, totally, for sure. Hey, do you like Chardonnay?”

“I…” Joy didn’t want to skirt around whatever issue Sunny was having, but was well-aware of her stubbornness. “I sure do.”

As fancy glasses of white wine were generously poured, Joy made note of Sunny’s slow, unsteady movements. She worried that perhaps Sunny had already started drinking, or wasn’t getting enough sleep.

* * *

“Can you believe that, Joy?”

“No way. It’s just inhuman.”

“Completely! It’s not like green onions are suddenly more expensive to dry out!”

The conversation had started with gossip and cheese snacking when the sun was high. As the sun set, the discussion shifted to the price of instant meals, and the snack plates were all but empty. Joy had to fight the constant urge to fall asleep, as the topics were never much more interesting than that. But she let Sunny lead the talking as much as possible.

Joy was simply relieved that Sunny called her over before diving into her liquor storage. “You should start a petition to regulate the price. I’d be the first to sign it.”

Sunny’s tipsy grin matched Joy’s. Though the alcohol consumption had been slow-going, they had been doing it for several hours. “Oh that would be great press. ‘Washed up idol upset with ramen manufacturers.’”

With an exaggerated roll of the eyes, Joy pointed at a set of boxes in the corner of the living room, currently being used as a lookout tower by Sogeum. “You’re not washed up yet. Look at all of those sponsor gifts. Those weren’t here last time I came over… Wait, they weren’t, were they?”

Sunny giggled. “No, they’re, uh… new.”

Their corporate sponsors weren’t something that Joy, Sunny, or any of the other SM idols discussed often. There were usually so many vying for their attention that it was pointless trying to keep track. But Joy reasoned, somewhat drunkenly, that talking about it might be therapeutic to someone so down on their social status. “Who are they from, anyway?”

A blush deepened the red of Sunny’s already tipsy-glowing cheeks. “Uh… Nobody. Just a regular sponsor, ya know?”

Joy grinned. “Oh, come on. You can tell me. What am I gonna do? Call a press conference to tell the tabloids who’s contributing to your paycheck?”

Sunny rolled her eyes. She shot off the couch, spilling a drop or two of her wine in the process. From Joy’s naturally higher perspective, Sunny didn’t seem that much taller. “Fine,” she said, wobbling, “but you better not make fun of me.”

“I’ll make fun of you for other reasons, like how much I love you, bitch!” Joy blinked at her own shouting. She didn’t know when the alcohol had hit her, but she was beginning to think that she was a little more intoxicated than she previously thought.

Thankfully, the joviality in her voice seemed to encourage Sunny to play along. She set her wine on the coffee table and picked one of the smaller boxes off of the pile. “Disclosure first! We haven’t agreed to any deals yet. They sent me this stuff to try to convince me to shill it. I didn’t reach out to them.”

Joy waved the disclosure off like a mosquito, but Sunny still tossed the box in her direction. The weight inside of it was awkwardly distributed. Joy attempted to catch it, but it wound up ricocheting off the tips of her fingers and nearly knocking over an open, mostly full bottle of soju.

“The fuck is in this thing?”

“I’ve got some ideas but I just know who it’s from. Open it and find out.”

Joy tore into the box with no regard for the care that went into the packaging, which itself was surprisingly discreet. A smirk cracked her lips when she thought about what sorts of deliveries required such discretion. But the smirk faded right away when she got a view of the inside and realized that the packager apparently had the same idea.

Inside was a pair of plastic sheets wrapped asymmetrically around a roughly water bottle sized blob of blood red silicone. A small bit of pink cardboard advertised it as a five-speed, rotation-simulating, self-cleaning, pattern-switching, USB-charging, automatically-lubricating, remote-controlled vibrator with a speaker at the bottom for replicating a set of desired moans and a specialized charging dock.

Joy cleared her throat and stared at the horrifically fancy dildo, and its label, “Dante’s Dive,” unsure if she should toss it back to Sunny, considering it was clearly a personal item.

Sunny reached into what was left of the box, procuring a pretty little decorated card. “Dear Ms. Lee, we at Second Ring Inc were very pleased to hear your impromptu review of our products on a recent episode of ‘Welp, I Guess We’re Talking About This Now’ and wished to send you some additional items to show our appreciation. These are in no way a request for further public review,” Sunny was briefly interrupted by Joy’s disapproving snort, “but should you be interested in a partnership, we have included a phone number at which I, the chief executive officer, Lee Youngjoon, may be reached. Optionally, my username--”

Joy missed a few words as she was shocked by the extreme sound emitted by the vibrator when she pushed a button on the remote control.

“--is ‘worldsover’. As you know, Second Ring specializes in sexual wellness products, of which we’ve sent you a wide variety. They can be enjoyed by couples, or can serve as a fantastic outlet for power singles like yourself…”

Sunny trailed off. Joy was afraid she knew what was coming. “Damn, Sunny. You say so much as three words on national television and they scramble to get right up on your ass, eh?”

It was too late. Sunny was already tipping up the bottom of the soju bottle. A few drops spluttered back out of her mouth as Joy pushed it back down. “Sunny! You’ve said it yourself! You don’t want to get married!”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not still lonely!”

Joy wrapped her arms around Sunny. “You’ve got me. And a million other friends!”

“Fans don’t count.” Sunny’s voice was partially muffled by Joy’s shoulder.

“Ouch. Time for me to delete my Sone club membership. But fine. A hundred other friends. It’s not just me. It’s my members. Your members. And plenty of others. All of NCT would be--Okay, nevermind. Aespa though! They love you too.”

“But I don't want to inconvenience you." Sunny ended so matter-of-factly that Joy had to pause to process the short conversation.

"You know how… You know how you take a road trip, and there's a road block, or really bad construction, and you have to take a detour?"

"Yeah. I'm a detour."

"Come on, Sunny. What you are is the scenic route!”

There was a long silence.

“Was that the end of the metaphor?” Sunny eventually asked.

“I am very drunk.”

“You’re not that drunk.”

“Drunk enough to be shit at metaphors.”

“It’s…” Sunny extricated herself from Joy’s hug. “It’s okay. I think I know what you’re getting at, and I appreciate it. It’s just that a few words don’t really fix a brain, you know?”

Joy nodded slowly, watching as Sogeum casually stalked across the room. “Yup. But believe me. I’m here for you, at least. So if you need a friend, or some company, I’m at the top of your list.”

The cat plopped herself on the floor, right up against Sunny’s leg. Joy giggled. “Fuck off, kitty. I just said I was the top.”

It seemed the topic of conversation was ready to change. Sunny smiled, and it was enough to indicate her understanding.

“So!” Joy moved things along. “A pile of free, top of the line sex toys in your living room. What’s a young woman to do about that?”

Sunny snorted. “Well I’m not going to masturbate while I have company over, that’s for sure.” She grabbed another box from the pile and handed it over, doing her best not to disturb Sogeum’s new resting place.

The new box took mere seconds to open, this time revealing a black silicone butt plug with a red gem in the base. The casing suggested that a picture could be inserted beneath the gem, and it appeared there was one already there as an example. Joy had to flip it around to a variety of angles before she could make out that it contained a headshot of Dreamcatcher’s Jiu making finger hearts on her cheeks. She cocked her head, wondering if the image had actually been authorized.

Another box swapped between the womens’ hands. It took Joy a little longer to open than the last, but it turned out to be that way for a good reason, given that it was gently holding some fragile cargo: A red-tinted glass bottle of lube, labeled as “Juice from the Fruit of The Tree.” The lengthy product title had a snake winding through the letters.

“Well now they’re just really doubling down on this theme, aren’t they?” Sunny asked as she worked out how to open the next package, using her bottle opener as a makeshift knife.

Joy laughed and picked up yet another, now eager to see what kind of wild object it would contain. “Yeah, they really are! No lie, they’re starting to give me some ideas. Talk about sinful.”

“‘Oh I know,’” Sunny mocked the company, as SM artists often did, fingers still struggling to find their way under the first cardboard flap. “‘Let’s send Sunny a whole pile of sex junk. Bet she’s sinful enough to use it all.’ Like, come on Love-eye, or whatever your name is. What’s a single woman gonna do with all this? Hold up a pillow fort?”

“Hey, maybe he doesn’t know you’re single. Maybe there’s some stuff in here that takes two to tangle with… Fuck. Choerry’s got me using alliterations.”

Sunny barely managed to get her fingers inside the box, but her knuckles were turning white from the tightness of it. It seemed that she had left a portion of the packing tape uncut. “I said I was single on the show, though. I don’t think there will be any couples’ toys in here.”

“Oooh, I’m gonna make it a bet now.” Joy smirked. Her next sentence bypassed her verbal filter through the holes left in it by the alcohol. “If you get that thing open and there’s a strap on inside, you have to fuck me with it!”

A jerk of her arms snapped the remainder of the packing tape. Sunny chuckled. “You’re on. There’s no way it is.”

Joy had to admit that Sunny had a point, considering how small the package was. Surely it couldn’t fit a series of leather straps, or a dildo any larger than a couple of inches in any direction. The little voice in the back of her mind that told her making such an offer was stupid quieted down somewhat.

There was a moment of quiet. Sogeum rolled away from Sunny and made her way to the kitchen. Joy picked up another box, confident that she hadn’t just placed herself in an awkward situation. Sunny shook her head, amused. And then…

“J-Joy?”

Joy looked back, but wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at. It was a sort of mass of black string with some silver discs hanging off of it. Another piece of pink paper fluttered to the floor, where Joy picked it up and read aloud.

“‘The Obol.’ As Charon ferried Dante across the Styx and into the hole that is Hell, so too shall this state-of-the-art magnetic harness ferry our exclusive Dante’s Dive dildo into your… partner’s hole…”

There was more to be read, but both women seemed to get the point. The only sound in the room came from Sogeum chomping through some hard cat food in the kitchen. Slowly, their eyes raised and met. They both spoke at the same moment.

“That was a bet’s a joke bet right?”

Their drunken minds needed a moment to detangle their words into distinct sentences. Sunny’s “That was a joke, right?” and Joy’s “A bet’s a bet.”

Sunny started again first. “You know, we don’t have to.”

“I will if you want to.”

Every sentence being exchanged was followed by a palpable stillness. Joy’s heart beat loudly in her own ears, and she swore she could hear Sunny’s too.

“Do you… want to fuck me with that, Sunny?”

Sunny answered instantly. “Yup.”

There was a flurry of action, though it was slowed here and there by a tipsy stumble or two. Sunny gathered up an armful of the items on her coffee table, both sex toys and the bottle of soju, and sprinted for the bedroom. Joy rushed after her, messily attempting and failing to remove some of her clothes on the way.

Sogeum was spooked by the sudden kerfuffle and fled out of sight.

The bedroom was no less hectic. Sunny dropped everything on the bed except the soju, which she took one more swig of directly from the bottle before setting it dangerously close to the edge of her desk. She wiggled out of her shirt and bra, which attracted Joy’s attention instantly.

Joy struck at Sunny’s cleavage, wrapping her fingers as far as they could go around the legendary orbs, and her lips around one of the budding tips. Their differences in height made it awkward, but they very soon found their way to a horizontal state that eased that tension. Unfortunately, it was not on the bed, but on the floor, but they weren’t about to let something like that stop them.

What clothes they were still wearing exploded off their bodies. Joy’s shorts and shirt, Sunny’s pants and socks. All of it ended up in different sections of the room, thrown under and over furniture.

Joy was no stranger to encounters like this, and neither was Sunny. They had shared countless stories with each other… and some spit. But neither had considered their prior make out sessions to be precursors to explicitly sexual action. For her part, however, Joy considered this one differently, and Sunny’s hands searching half-blindly for Joy’s ass confirmed to her that Sunny thought the same.

Backs arched. Legs ground against one another. Open mouths met, trading the alcoholic scents that the women no longer cared to distinguish. Their minds had devoted themselves entirely to the search for physical pleasure.

A lot of exploratory prodding led Sunny’s fingers to the entrance to Joy’s pussy, failing to notice the number of pokes that ended up at Joy's exit. She took some time familiarizing herself with the drenched outer folds.

Joy, however, noticed the poking at her ass. Her mind swam with serotonin, thoughts of other people, and alcoholic fumes that seemed to rearrange the letters of her thoughts into nonsense. Or possibly into inspiration.

Inspiration relevant to the happenings at the prior year's award shows, that is.

Joy tried to pull back the moment Sunny’s fingers dipped inside her. She had opened her mouth to speak but instead groaned and arched herself further into Sunny’s grip on her sanity. "S-Sunny. B-bed."

At least that message was received loud and clear. Sunny dragged her fingers against Joy’s G-spot as she, disappointingly, pulled them out, nearly causing Joy to scream. The same fingers plunged into Joy’s mouth and quieted her as she diligently sucked her own juices from them.

The action transferred to the bed. Fingers immediately found their places again, and Joy bounced on her back in time with Sunny’s brutal shoves. Packaging bounced all around them. It was like a desperate, distracted game of Vegetable Shinobi for Joy, swiping at the jumping dildo. Sunny’s fingers were divine, eye-wateringly so, but Joy wanted something unholy.

Sunny muttered Joy’s name, catching her attention again. She lifted her head to meet for yet another imprecise kiss. Their legs twisted around each other. Joy could hear the desperation in Sunny’s moans, vibrating all the way down her throat, burning like the alcohol. She snaked a hand between them and found Sunny’s clit.

The moans freed themselves as Sunny bucked backward, almost out of Joy’s longer reach. Joy noted the exceptional reaction, and flipped Sunny onto her back, following immediately and putting herself in the position of power Sunny had initiated.

“You’re gonna fuck me with the strap on… right, Sunny?”

Sunny’s eyes widened, and she grabbed the toys.

“No, not yet,” Joy stalled in her most seductive voice. She slid down, nearly falling off the bed, and wrenched Sunny’s legs wide open with her elbows.

Sunny clenched her fingers around the hell-themed dildo for dear life. Joy’s name poured through her lips over and over again as Joy’s lips poured over her pussy.

Joy had to fight Sunny’s strength to keep her spread thighs from clamping around her head. She wanted to keep hearing her senior beg, loud and clear. To that end, she dug in her tongue, unable to penetrate far, but far enough to open Sunny up and feel the wetness flow into her mouth.

“Please… Joy… I’m close… Joy, please! Joy, don’t stop!”

The thought flitted through Joy’s head, that perhaps denying Sunny her orgasm would be fun, but something about the way she said it made Joy wonder if Sunny’s neediness was rooted in her loneliness, more than in her desire to get off. She shifted herself to wrap her arms under Sunny’s legs and pulled. It wasn’t possible for them to be any physically closer than they were, but she wanted to make it feel like they could be.

Sunny’s voice cracked, choked, and broke into a scream. Joy winced as her tongue was squeezed uncomfortably, but she wasn’t about to stop. The back arches, hair grasping, and pained gasps that followed were worth it.

Joy kept it up until Sunny’s body fell back down and her muscles relaxed. Only then, she removed herself to ask, “Need a break before my turn?”

A smile crept up Sunny’s mouth. Her fingers tightened around the dildo she still had in her hand. “Get… back down here.”

If there was any benefit Joy appreciated most about idol training, it was recovery speed, and Sunny still had it. Joy picked up the strap, quickly figuring out how it was supposed to fit and sliding it up Sunny’s legs. The motion doubled as her approach for another make out.

Of course, Joy was still immensely horny. Her interest in making out with Sunny was overshadowed by her desire to get fucked savagely, but she had the wherewithal to hold out, to let it happen naturally. She was always good at letting others take the lead. Whether they led from the top or from the bottom didn’t especially matter to her.

The alcohol made her more impatient than usual though. She forced herself to wait for the five-speed pounding she’d get, but she ground herself against Sunny’s leg in the meantime. Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long. Sunny threw her to the side and attached the vibrator to the unusual strap with very little trouble. Joy fingered herself as she watched.

“Fuck, yes, Sunny. This is going to be so goo--”

Sunny practically tackled Joy. Their lips collided again, strap hovering somewhere between Joy’s legs, but not close enough for her to feel it.

The moment she did, though, Joy grabbed Sunny’s ass and pulled. The lack of accuracy was made up for by the inhuman amount of lubrication present; both Joy’s and the curious synthetic compound that the dildo exuded seemingly of its own volition.

It was almost too much for Joy. The dildo was certainly longer than any she had used before, and bottoming out at full speed meant it hit her rather painfully in the cervix. She hissed, but otherwise just readjusted her legs in Sunny’s way to prevent the same thing from happening so easily again.

The strap held the dildo in place on Sunny’s body well. Despite its genuinely small frame, it seemed to prevent all wiggling. Every one of Sunny’s movements, including the less delicate, more intoxicated ones, translated to sensations that felt to Joy like a biologically attached dick, albeit with a plethora of extra features.

"You're so pretty, Joy," Sunny said. Even though she was doing all the work now, she wasn't nearly as winded as before. Knowing she’d affected Sunny made Joy grin into another kiss.

“No you,” Joy said with a smirk. She knew this would be good, but she truly underestimated how great it would be to see Sunny’s famous tits jiggling with the effort of fucking her. The sheen of sweat covering them would ensure the night wouldn’t be forgotten, even if Joy had another drink or two.

Joy’s first orgasm struck quickly and unexpectedly. Her breath stopped and a shudder spiked through her body from her core to the tips of her toes and fingers and head. The ability to think normally left her for a brief moment. She only kept the fleeting question of whether or not Sunny was able to feel Joy’s climax. Stars popped in and out of existence, obscuring Joy’s view of Sunny’s fantastic body.

It all faded relatively soon after, but it wasn’t enough for Joy. As soon as her lungs refilled, she screamed, “More! Sunny! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh god!” She was practically numb everywhere, except for every square inch of her that the dildo rubbed, slid, and vibrated against. Her arms and legs wrapped around Sunny on their own.

Joy, eyes half closed, barely registered when Sunny slowed down to grab and open the extra package. She did, however, notice the sudden prodding feeling at her asshole.

“Sun--”

She couldn’t even finish Sunny’s name before something slipped its way into her butt. Her vision cleared up enough to see that even while she continued thrusting, Sunny had one hand tucked between them, and it was the source of the extra intrusion.

A couple more thrusts though, and Joy was lost to the pleasure again. She started to pant instead of scream or moan, or perhaps she was whimpering, or speaking fluent Polish. Joy couldn’t have said one way or the other. Another orgasm hit. And another. And another. She knew some time was passing between each one, but whether it was seconds or days between no longer mattered. Her mind was fading out of existence.

Until, that is, it wasn’t.

With seemingly no provocation, Joy suddenly remembered Cheungae. She had been meaning to talk to Sunny about him before they had gotten drunk. Her mind wandered, far, far more than it normally would during such intense sex.

Cheungae had taken her out several times since their first, less-than-professional meeting at the MAMAs with Wheein. Even though Joy knew he was struggling financially, he always insisted on paying for coffee, but would give up if he saw the bill when Joy took him to some of the much higher end restaurants.

He was always so polite, genuine, and humble. He didn’t even question when Joy told him they couldn’t be in a relationship, but instead insisted that they could be friends. Joy wondered if it was fair to him that she was treating him as a boyfriend in every way but name while she was still having a grand old time fucking everyone else in the industry. Cheungae knew about it, but wasn’t part of it.

And yet, sex with Cheungae made Joy feel good. Great, even. She could recreate the sensations in her mind for days afterward. His slim, toned figure hovering over her, his face contorted beautifully in adorable agony, his admittedly mediocre cock managing to hit her just right with every move. She couldn’t stop picturing him.

Another orgasm smashed through Joy’s illusion. The mental image of perfectly human Cheungae was instantly replaced with the very physical image of god-like Sunny. As tended to happen, Joy held her breath as the climax coursed through her. Her muscles contracted until she was holding Sunny in a deathly grip.

“F-fuck. Sunn-ny. Slow… slow down.”

It seemed that the request was desperately needed by both lovers, because rather than simply slow down, Sunny fell over. Joy’s pussy immediately craved to be filled again, but she knew she needed to clear her head. And besides that, she still had an odd full sensation. When her muscles relaxed enough for her to move of her own volition, she reached beneath herself and recoiled again at the feeling of a drenched butt plug. Her fingertips carried a puddle of mixed cum and lube back up.

“I’m sorry… Joy… I think that’s all I have left in me,” Sunny said between gasps.

Joy made note of her own throat and how dry it was. Whatever sound she was making while she borderline hallucinated, she’d be regretting it for a while. “All good. I was losing my sanity. That was unbelievable.”

Sunny giggled. It sounded painful. “The vibrator… or the surprise plug?”

Joy giggled back. “The plug was definitely a surprise. Was that the one with Jiu's face in it?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool,” Joy sat up, her head swimming in the aftermath. “But I just think it was you using the stuff that made it so good.”

Sunny seemed invigorated by the compliments. She smiled and reached under the bed, making some noise and bringing up a bottle of water. The two of them swapped it back and forth until it was empty and then collapsed into one another, idly feeling each others' bodies up the whole time.

“Does that mean you’re up for another… night like this? Or day?” Sunny asked as she fondled Joy’s tits. It sounded like she had sobered up, at least most of the way. Joy was too afraid of what she would see to look at a clock.

“You fucking know it,” Joy responded while she brushed her fingers up and down Sunny’s inner thighs. It was a reflex for her to agree, but she cringed inwardly as soon as she did, realizing how much more sober she had become herself, and how she wished she wasn’t. She was thinking about Cheungae again.

There was a barrage of light kisses all over her face, neck, and chest. Sunny looked far too happy for Joy to feel okay about retracting her statement.

“Maybe not right now though,” Joy said, just in case Sunny was already getting ideas. “We should really get to bed.”

She didn’t hear any arguments. They simply got up, and only long enough to flip up the duvet, flinging all of the remaining sex toys off, and jumped underneath.

It took a minute for Joy to realize she needed to remove the surprise butt plug. It was easy enough, and she ended up tossing it to the floor without looking at it.

Joy wrapped herself around Sunny. She was usually the big spoon, not that it bothered her. Sunny’s bare back felt comfortably hot against her chest and stomach. Cheungae liked being the big spoon too. He’d swap with her all the time…

“Hey, Sunny?”

“Mmm?” Sunny was on the verge of sleep, it seemed.

Joy lowered her voice, barely above a whisper. “Have you ever thought about… Settling down, I guess? Just being with one person?”

She didn’t expect Sunny to have an immense store of wisdom, but she hoped for more than what she got: a snore.

“Good night to you too, Sunny.”

[hyungieyoongi]

Found: “Run Away to You” Part 1

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader 

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Fluff + Angst 

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You 

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

// Part 2

---

Looking at the calendar on your wall, the date glared back at you, red marker encircling the number as if you could forget it.

One year. It had been one whole year since you ran away from your old life.

Happy anniversary to me, you thought bitterly.

It hadn’t been easy–no, it had been tactful, strategic. Your best friend-turned-publicist, Marianne, had programmed your social media accounts to simultaneously deactivate. The phone you used for “celebrity” contacts and business-related matters was permanently turned off, stashed away in the back of a drawer. You had already moved all your belongings to a new apartment on the other side of the city, address undisclosed to everyone except Marianne and your parents on the other side of the world. Everything had been in place for you to completely disappear.

You were instructed to lay low for at least one entire month, groceries delivered to your door under a fake name with Marianne’s credit card. You had cut your hair, once long and flowing, to your collarbone. It was often hidden under a baseball hat when you went to your favorite café for a coffee or took your elderly neighbor’s dog for walks around the park. You were completely off the radar, just as intended.

That didn’t stop the world from trying to track you down for a while. Fan blogs speculated where you could have gone, and tabloids splashed old pictures of you on their covers with speculative headlines. Your parents even had to install a state-of-the-art security system in your hometown in the States after a magazine found out where you grew up and tried to break into their backyard. But you weren’t naïve enough to go back home; that was the first place people would expect you to go. Instead, you were hidden in plain sight in Seoul, just sans the flashes of the cameras following you. Without the designer clothes or big sunglasses hiding your features, you looked just like anyone else. Undetectable.  

You had grown up in America, studying acting and Korean during your time at university with Marianne. Upon graduation, you landed a major role in a K-drama, uprooting your entire life to move to Seoul. For five years, you lived in the spotlight under the industry’s microscope. People said you were living the dream, but it started to feel more like a nightmare. It became overwhelming, suffocating.

When the show wrapped after three seasons, you knew it was time. You decided to run. You just wish you didn’t have to hurt anyone else in the process. Especially him.

You had instructed Marianne to give him a letter explaining why you had to go away, but she never heard back from him.

Let me go, Yoongi. Don’t look for me. This is for the best. I will always care about you. – Y/N

The words were emblazoned in your memory, your eyes tearing up at the thought of him reading the words you wrote to him.

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.  

Your cell phone rang, distracting you from the memories that plagued your thoughts today.

“Good afternoon, dearie!” Marianne chirped on the other end of the phone. “It’s a big day for you. The first half of your manuscript came back from the publisher, so get excited to do some editing!” Hiding away from the world for a year gave you a lot of time to think. For you, that meant time to write. Marianne seamlessly transitioned from being your publicist for your acting career to managing your budding career as an author, even helping you pick out a pseudonym.  

“That’s great news,” you mumbled in reply, taking a long sip of your coffee, the bitterness blooming on your tongue.

“Are you alright? You sound, I don’t know, a little off,” Marianne questioned, concern lacing her normally peppy tone.

“It’s been one year, Marianne,” you replied, knowing she’d understand.

“Oh my,” Marianne said after a beat of silence. “It completely slipped my mind. How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright just a little…weird, I guess? I’m so relieved to have my own life again. But I’m also just kind of mourning my old life today.”

“Oh babe, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Do you want me to come over after work–we can order takeout and watch a movie? Take your mind off things?” Marianne offered.

“No, that’s okay. I think I’m just going to spend the day doing some self-care. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the manuscript timeline, right?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be at the café at 11:00 a.m. Are you sure you’ll be okay today?” Marianne asked, clearly not convinced that you were telling the truth about being alright.

“I’ll call you if I need you, I promise,” you reassured her.

“Night or day, Y/N, you know I’m here.”

After you both said your goodbyes and ended the call, you started to feel restless, needing something to take your mind off the date and the competing emotions swirling in your brain. You decided fresh air and comfort food were the solution.  

Grabbing your keys off the table by the front door, you slipped on your shoes, heading for the local corner store in your neighborhood, mindlessly forgetting your hat on the hook on the wall.

---

Mask pulled over the lower half of his face to conceal his appearance, Yoongi slipped into a nearby corner store, saving himself from the prying eyes that seemed to be examining him a little too closely from across the street.

He had snuck out of the studio without security, wanting to just take a moment to breathe all to himself. He had driven around Seoul with no destination in mind, eventually stopping in a neighborhood he found with a quiet park for a walk. His thoughts betrayed him as they kept going back to you and the letter he received one year ago, now crumpled in the top righthand drawer of his desk. He didn’t need to pull it out today to remember exactly what it said.

Let me go.

Once he read those words, he had stopped reading, smashing the paper together between his fists in frustration, shoving it in the drawer. It had stayed unopened since last year.

Yoongi aimlessly wandered through the aisles of the store, his mind continuously returning to that drawer. He had worked so hard to stop thinking about it–about you–over the past year. Today was a harsh reminder that you were still on his mind. He had stopped calling a long time ago, knowing that you wouldn’t pick up or return his calls. Sometimes though, if he had a little too much to drink with the boys, he’d call your number just to hear your voice on the voicemail recording. He didn’t tell anyone about those late-night calls.

Rounding the aisle corner, he collided with someone, knocking the snacks they had bundled in their arms to the ground. They immediately knelt down, trying to collect them.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you,” Yoongi offered, starting to lean over.

“Oh, no that’s okay I’ve got it.” Yoongi froze, his body going rigid. That voice. Your voice. He hadn’t heard it in-person in over a year. The sweetness of it rang through his ears, reminiscent of the voicemail he knew by heart.

It was you. After all this time.

---

Standing up with your snacks back safely in your grasp, you looked at the man in front of you who seemed to be barely breathing.

You were about to ask if he was alright, but then you recognized it. The black hat–the one with two rings on the edge that he would often wear when he went out. His mask had slipped below his nose, his pale cheeks slightly squished under the pressure of the fabric. Black hair poked out from underneath the hat, falling onto his forehead and into his dark brown eyes. They were wide with shock.  

You felt the color rush from your face, hands beginning to shake because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were safe. Safe in your self-made bubble away from the world.

Until he found you. And it burst.

You contemplated turning around, pretending you hadn’t recognized him. Leave him again. But you knew that wasn’t an option now. You had to face the thing you were most scared of–him.

“Yoongi, I-” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

“Your hair,” Yoongi remarked, cutting you off, tone flat and quiet. “You cut your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat. “Just...wanted a change, I guess.”

Hide. You wanted to hide.

“You seem to have gone through a lot of changes,” Yoongi said, bitterness seeping into his voice.

You winced at the implication of his words. You took a deep breath to try and collect yourself before replying.

“Can we...can we not do this here?”

“Fine.”

“I live around the corner. Maybe we could just...talk?” you asked, averting your eyes to the ground. When you didn’t hear a reply, you looked back up to Yoongi, who nodded at you once in agreement.

Abandoning your would-be purchases, you walked out the front door of the store, Yoongi silently following behind you. You felt his eyes burning into your back.

Just put one foot in front of the other, you thought to yourself.

As you and Yoongi silently walked to your apartment, neither of you noticed the camera pointed at the two of you, snapping the photo that would change everything.

// Part 2

---

Taglist: @loveyoongles​ @agustd-2020​ @delacyrose224​ @crispychanniee​ @sunshinejunghoseokie @jinsearthh

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[battybatzgirl]

Hey Mr. Sandman, You Missed a Spot

AO3

Summary: 

It's not that Hunter doesn't ever sleep, Eda's come to realize. It was that he falls asleep sporadically, most of the time in really weird places.

Or: 5 times Eda catches Hunter taking a nap

Part 1 of the Finders Keepers Series

---

Here’s the thing about Eda: she loves naps. Eda likes to be cozy, so usually, that equated to curling up under a blanket, lazing around, and falling asleep. The Owl Beast shared that sentiment, the creature that lived within her constantly wanting to nest. Those animalistic instincts were weird, but when you lived in a house with a demon who also liked to bury himself under a pile of stuffed animals, you kind of got used to it.

Here’s the thing about Hunter: he doesn’t sleep.

The kid has been living with them for only about two weeks, officially replacing Eda as Public Enemy Numero Uno in the eyes of the Emperor. When he’d showed up on Hooty’s doorstep, all bloody and barely conscious, Eda thought it was some kind of cosmic trick. The Powers That Be had to be pulling her leg because this was the second time the leader of the Emperor’s Coven had shown up to the Owl House with nowhere else to go.

Luz had been ecstatic to welcome him in, apparently excited to finally fulfill her dreams of becoming a middle child in their weird little found family. King was less thrilled, but eventually warmed up to the idea of Hunter staying with them as long as he taught King his secrets on how to command an army.

Hunter himself even seemed unnerved at the thought of living with them. He tried to leave a few times when he was still wounded, but his little bird palisman (Rascal, she’s heard him say) effectively herded him back into the house by continuously dive-bombing him and nipping at his ears. And after Belos put out a wanted poster for the kid, making him the Isles’ number one most wanted traitor, leaving wasn’t really an option. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

So eventually, Hunter begrudgingly accepted that yeah, he lived in the Owl House now.

And alright, Eda isn’t heartless. The kid was lost, wounded, and an enemy of the Emperor. She can work with that.

Getting to know him has been a challenge, though. Hunter has a lot of weird quirks. He holds himself so seriously that Eda has a hard time remembering that he’s a teenager and not a fully grown middle-aged man. He hardly ever smiles. He’s jumpy, practically jolting out of his skin every time you walk into the same room. He’s clearly Going Through Some Shit, as Eda so eloquently calls it, remembering how Lily went through the same thing when she slowly broke free of Belos’s freaky subjugation.

But still. The kid doesn’t sleep.

Eda first notices it around day four of his residence. She’s up early to go to the market, stepping into the living room and nearly transforming into her Harpy Form out of pure shock when she sees a figure messing with her bookshelf in the back of the room. Wide maroon eyes lock on hers from across the room and she feels the feathers that sprung to her skin recede.

“Titan, kid,” she breaths, “You nearly killed me. What are you doing up? It’s Saturday, you should be sleeping in.”

“Um…I did sleep in,” Hunter responds, as if it’s obvious.

Eda feels a frown tug at her lips, “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

The kid just shrugs a little lamely, and Eda feels a twinge of concern in her chest. (And ugh, feeling concerned for a guy who dangled you over the Boiling Sea is certainly weird.) If this was sleeping in for him, he couldn’t have rested more than five hours.

She steps closer, taking a second look at what he’s doing. Half the books are spread out on the floor, the other half stacked neatly back on the shelves in some kind of order.

He notices her looking, “I, uh, took the liberty of reorganizing your bookshelf. Or organizing it, since it didn’t really seem to have a system.” The kid ducks his head, the tips of his ears flushing pink. “I- I can put it back the way it was if you want, or organize them in a different way.”

That’s another thing about Hunter: he always has to be doing something. Being useful. Without direction, he crumples. It was always, What do you want me to do now, Miss Clawthorne this and I completed this task, Miss Clawthorne, what’s next that. His brain operated on a transactional level—I do this thing for you, you do this thing for me. And since Eda was housing him, he felt like he had to constantly be doing things for her. Constantly proving himself worthy to be here, repaying her. Hunter couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that she didn’t want him to do anything except stay comfortable.

Eda has thought up a hundred different little tasks for him to do in just his first four days. She’s running out of odd jobs to give him, and if she has to keep telling him what to do she’s going to start pulling out her hair.

“You’re fine, kid,” she says. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’ if it makes ya happy. But you shouldn’t be up this early. You should at least take a nap later.”

Hunter tilts his head. “But that wouldn’t be accomplishing anything.”

“You don’t hafta be working all the time,” Eda stresses. “It’s okay to sit around and just exist once and a while. Actually, I think that should be your priority. Take a nap, relax, go cloud watching, take a walk—any or all of the above.”

“That sounds like doing nothing.”

“That’s because it is doing nothing.”

His face hardens, taking on that soldier-like seriousness that encompasses his entire demeanor. “Being lazy can’t be a priority.”

“Don’t think of it like that, then,” Eda almost snaps, wishing for a nice hot mug of apple blood. It was too damn early to deal with the repercussions of Belos’s all-work-no-play mindset. “Think of it as acting your age. Did you ever get to take naps as a kid in the Emperor’s Coven? Is relaxing just a foreign concept to you?”

He doesn’t answer, staring at her with those bagged eyes and guarded expression, and Eda throws up her hands in defeat.

She leaves then, her patience running too thin to continue arguing with him. She doubts he’ll actually go back to sleep. He probably goes back to doing whatever he was doing with that bookshelf. Eda makes a mental note to tell King to knock all the books off, just so Hunter can reorganize it later. Just for something for him to keep him occupied.

1.

Eda doesn’t even notice the first time it happens. It was one of Luz’s friends, Gus, who pointed it out.

The kids were gathered at her home after school, spread out on the floor of the living room along with various pillows and blankets. Luz found some card game she knew buried somewhere in the piles of human trash Eda has laying around, and the girl has been spending the better part of an hour trying to explain how it works.

“So the Wild Card doesn’t make you turn into a wild animal?” Willow questions, holding up a black card with looks like a colorful pie chart on it.

“Nope!” Luz says cheerfully. “It just becomes any color you want it to be to go with the rest of your hand.”

“But the card doesn’t actually change color?” Amity asks.

“No, it only represents the color,” Luz clarifies, and Eda has to admit, her girl has a ton of patience. She’s been quietly watching from her place on the couch, half-listening to their conversation, half-reading the Isles’ latest edition of You Gossipy Witch, a tabloid where a writer is speculating about her true form. Apparently, some people think she was raised by feral, wild owls on some far away barrier island, and has come to reside in Bonesborough just because she ran out of mutant rats to eat.

Weird.

But entertaining!

Gus holds up one of his cards, “So are blank cards bad, or—"

King jumps over his shoulder, landing on the deck of cards in the middle of their little circle and making them fly everywhere. “I have taken dominion over ALL YOUR CARDS. All of you must grovel for a taste of my wealth!”

“Actually, the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards,” Luz reminds him gently. “That way, when you get down to one card, you shout Uno! And you win! If no one else makes you draw anymore, that is.”

King deflates a little, apparently put off by the idea of less is more. “Oh.” Luz smiles and pats him on the head, and he brightens up. “Okay, let’s play, because I wanna make all of you draw as many cards as possible! You'll drown in your cards! Choke on them, even!”

As they start gathering up the cards that King threw everywhere, Gus lets out a little gasp. “You guys—is Hunter asleep?”

That immediately draws Eda’s attention away from the magazine. Her eyes flicker to the blond witch, laying on his stomach just on the edge of their group. He was still having a hard time socializing, especially with Amity, but Luz was determined to include him in all friendship activities. She said wanted to teach him how to be a kid, and hell, if anyone could knock some seriousness out of that boy it would be Luz.

Hunter is indeed asleep—his face is mushed into the forearms pillowed under his head, and his red palisman has weaseled its way to nestle in between the crook of his elbow. His breath comes out in soft little sighs, and Eda feels something in her melt.

“Awwww, he looks so peaceful,” Luz croons, mushing her palms against her cheeks. Amity’s already scooched past her, snapping photos on her scroll. Eda can’t blame her. She knows a good blackmail opportunity when she sees one.

Eda’s off the couch and catches King mid-pounce. “Whoa there, none of that buddy.”

“But Edaaaa,” the demon whines, his little arms and legs flailing in mid-air. “I have to conquer him when he least expects it!”

“Ehhh, let the kid sleep. Save your conquests for when he’s awake and can put up a fight.” Eda sets him down in his place in the circle, and the kids all glance at each other before turning back to the cards.

She notices that they’re more mindful to keep their tones softer, probably to not disturb the sleeping boy. And when Hunter wakes himself up about half an hour later, they don’t mention it, seamlessly integrating him back into their game.

2.

The second time it happens, Raine is walking Eda home. It’s early in the evening, and the pair just got done with a fabulous date—a picnic with apple blood and sweet (and stolen) baked goods? Titan, take Eda now, she’s found her perfect match.

She’s still riding that high, not noticing Raine stopping until they tug on their clasped hands. “Hey, who’s that? Is he okay?”

Eda follows where they’re pointing their finger. It’s Hunter, slumped against the base of an oak tree, fast asleep. His chin is tipped forward and a book open on his chest, and even more strangely, there’s a small pile of leaves on his lap.

“Oh, that’s just my—” Eda stops herself, the word catching in her throat. Hunter was a child in her care, yes, but he wasn’t quite her kid. Not like Luz or King. The blond witch was still too jumpy, baring his teeth and snarling at anything that tried to get close to him.

He calls her Miss Clawthorne, for Titan’s sake.

“—Hunter,” Eda finishes lamely.

Raine raises an eyebrow. “Your Hunter?”

“He’s uhhh, one of Luz’s friends who just so happens to be living with us. Not a big thing.”

Raine shoots her a deadpan look but strides forward anyway, kneeling next to the sleeping blond. They keep their voice to a low murmur, “Should we wake him? That can’t be comfortable for his neck. He’ll probably be sore later.”

“Eh, let him rest. This is more sleep than he usually gets.” Eda steps closer, kneeling down on his other side. It’s the side that has his scar, the slightly raised red tissue standing out even more so than usual now that he wasn’t constantly moving. She’s almost asked him how he got it, but he’s clearly sensitive about the subject. She’s seen the similar marks on his arms, and something tells her there are a whole lot more scars that he’s hiding.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who gave them to him.

Still, it’s hard to ignore just how young he looks. When he’s stripped of all of his snappy comebacks, quick defenses, and that guarded demeanor Belos forced onto him, he’s reduced to exactly what he should be:

A kid.

“Oh!” Raine startles in surprise. Eda looks up to see the cardinal palisman fluttering down from above them, carrying a few leaves in its beak. It hops down onto Hunter’s lap and deposits the leaves in the little growing pile on his leg.

A smile worms its way onto Eda’s face. She runs a finger across the little bird’s head, “Trying to keep him warm, huh?” The bird lets out a trilling note of confirmation. She lets the bird be, turning back to Raine, “I think Rascal’s got this covered. If he hasn’t come in before nightfall I’ll come out and get ‘em.”

The bard casts one last glance down at the sleeping boy before they stand. “Y’know, he kind of reminds me of someone.”

“Oh yeah?” Eda weaves her arm through Raine’s as the pair reassumes their walk.

“Yeah,” Raine hums. “He kind of has the same build as someone I met when I was held hostage in the Emperor’s palace. The Golden Guard. Did you hear that he ran away from the palace? There've been rumors that the Emperor himself is tearing apart the Right Arm looking for him.”

“Uh, about that...”

Raine stops, turning to look at her square in the face. Eda gives them a sheepish, toothy grin.

“Oh my god,” Raine says. “You adopted the Golden Guard?”

“Hey now, adopted is a very strong word—”

The bard cuts her off with a delighted laugh. “How am I not surprised?” Eda feels heat rise to her face, but can’t help but return Raine’s infectious smile. “Only you, Eda. Only you.”

3.

The third time it happens, Eda’s passing through the upstairs hallway, intent on curling up into her nest for an afternoon nap of her own. She hears a shuffling noise as she passes by the glorified storage closet that they gave Hunter as a room, and can’t resist a peek inside.

What she finds is definitely…not what she was expecting. Hunter is laying flat on his back on the floor, his feet elevated on the little cot they’d given him. Yeesh, that couldn’t be comfortable. Soft snores woosh past his open lips, his face turned toward a crystal ball that’s playing some cartoon he must have been watching before he fell asleep.

His body is nearly covered in stuffed animals.

“King,” Eda hisses. The horned perpetrator is in the middle of dumping his entire army onto the blond witch’s chest, pinning down his arms with plushies. “What did I tell you about burying people alive?”

The demon pauses from where he’s been slowly arranging his army over Hunter’s sleeping form. “He’s got plenty of room to breathe! I didn’t cover his face,” King protests. “Can’t subjugate someone who’s dead.”

“No subjugating—” your brother, she almost says, “—Hunter.”

King squints at her, but then grumbles and starts slowly taking the stuffed animals off the boy’s body. Crisis averted, Eda slips back out into the hall, mind swirling. That was the second time she’d almost referred to Hunter as hers in passing. The feeling is too raw to speak out loud yet, but there’s a growing warmth in her as she watches Hunter acclimate to his surroundings in the Owl House. With every day that goes by, he’s more comfortable around her, around Luz and King and Hooty, and he’s starting to come out of his shell. He’s growing softer, less quick to snarl, becoming more Hunter and less Golden Guard.

Unconsciously, Eda’s started viewing him as part of their little family. Two weeks ago, that thought would have made her uncomfortable. Now, she welcomes it with open arms.

Ugh, she’s getting so soft.

4.

The fourth time it happens is when Eda’s flying home from visiting Lilith. She’s only been gone for the day, and is hoping that leaving Luz in charge hasn’t led to any freak fires, the resurrection of the dead, or other various natural disasters. Unfortunately, even her most responsible kid is pretty reckless, so Eda’s expectations are set pretty low.

It’s probably sometime around 2 a.m. when she makes it home sweet home. She swoops in close, intent on landing on the front door but stilling mid-air when she sees something on the roof of the tower. Even from up here, it’s not hard to distinguish the form of a looming body.

Eda’s heart leaps into her throat and she takes Owlbert down into a dive. Her body is tense when she lands, her staff already aimed toward the person lurking by the edge of the roof. “Alright listen bucko, you better step back or—wait.” She sees what looks like a lump of feathers sitting on top of the person’s head, and Eda squints in the darkness. She quickly pulls out a light glyph, sending the tiny ball of sun forward.

“Hunter?!” Eda’s tense posture relaxes. The kid doesn’t answer, and it takes her a beat to figure out why. He’s dead asleep, slumped precariously over the telescope they use for stargazing. Eda has no idea how he’s even standing at all. Kid probably had a ton of practice of falling asleep on his feet during long, boring meetings with the Emperor.

“Wakey, wakey.” She places her hand on his shoulder, gently, but he wakes up with a full-body jerk, startling the palisman on top of his head. The cardinal chirps once in irritation, fluttering to rest on Eda’s shoulder instead.

Hunter’s eyes are wild for a moment until he seems to register where he is and who he’s with. He relaxes then, letting out a yawn so huge it would put any lion to shame. “…Eda?”

“The one and only,” Eda says, ignoring how her heart squeezes at the kid finally calling her by her name. “Wanna tell me why you’re up here in the middle of the night?”

“Waitin’ for you,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. His eyelids drop and he sways dangerously on his feet. “Wanted to… t’make sure y’got home safe.”

The warmth in her chest expands and eclipses her entire body in that fuzzy feeling she gets whenever one of her kids does something particularly adorable. Thank Titan it’s dark and Hunter is too out of it to notice the smile that spreads across her face. If he was fully awake, Eda gets the feeling that A) he probably never would have admitted that he was worried about her, and B) would have snapped at her for smiling at him like that. “Well, I’m home now, so let’s get you to bed before you topple over.”

Eda wraps her arm around his waist and nudges him along, practically carrying him back downstairs, their palismen following close behind. She doesn’t mind. Someone had to make sure he didn’t fall off the roof.

“Night, kid,” she says, tucking him under the blankets on his cot. Hunter doesn’t respond, already having slipped back into unconsciousness. And if she brushes his bangs tenderly out of his face, no one ever has to be the wiser.

5.

The fifth time it happens, Eda’s gotten used to it. It's not that Hunter doesn’t sleep, she’s come to realize. He just falls asleep in weird places. Why, she has no idea, but honestly, the kid looked so tired all the time, she wasn’t going to question it. They had bigger things to worry about.

The Day of Unity is just around the corner, and Belos has become more irritating than ever.

Eda hadn’t even thought that was possible for him, but apparently, it was. The scouts around Bonesborough have tripled, their captains leading more and more raids, butting into shops to check everyone’s papers, and invading random districts.

Oddly, Belos’s priorities seem to have shifted. He’s still sending out grunts to round up any wild witches, but the guards have been playing a weird sort of hide-and-seek, going beyond just patrolling the marketplaces to actually tearing into people’s homes. From what she’s heard, the guards never take anything, just searching the place top-to-bottom before leaving empty-handed and moving on to the next house.

Belos was looking for something.

And unfortunately, Eda’s got a pretty good idea of what he’s after.

Said thing just so happens to be slumped across from her at the kitchen table, dead to the world. It’s late into the night, and most of the kids have already gone to sleep. Too on edge to lie down, Eda’s been keeping herself busy by concocting more potions while the late-night news plays on her crystal ball in the background.

Hunter, striving to be helpful, volunteered to stay up and help.

It wasn’t long before the kid slowly started to nod off, face supported by his palm as his eyelids started to droop. He’d been in the middle of mixing two ingredients—highly flammable ingredients, mind you—and Eda plucked the vials out of his lax grip just in time. Honestly, it was a miracle the kid never killed himself in the Emperor’s Coven with how randomly he falls asleep.

He probably never got the chance to sleep at all, a voice reminds her. She remembers how dead-exhausted Lily was during her first few days at the Owl House. It was probably safe to assume that the Emperor had a habit of running the head of his Coven into the ground.

Hunter has been picking up on Belos’s tightening grip, too. He’s been getting quieter, more reserved. He’s come to the same conclusion that Eda has: the Emperor was tearing apart the whole of the Isles to get him back.

Why, though, is anyone’s guess. Hunter has long since explained that his uncle always said that the Titan had big plans for him, and it probably has something to do with the Day of Unity, but beyond that, the Emperor had always kept him in the dark. Luz has a crazy theory involving clones and blood magic, but that sounds like it’s a plot point straight out of one of her Azura books. King thinks Belos wants his artificial staff back, and Hooty predicts the Emperor is just sad because all his Coven leaders are leaving him to join Hooty’s superior best friends club.

Whatever the reason, Eda’s made it pretty clear that she’s not gonna bend to Belos’s intimidation tactics and turn him over. That smarmy gold jerk could set the whole Isles on fire and Eda still wouldn’t hand him over. Hunter’s part of the Bad Girl’s Coven now, and Belos can just suck it. And she’s not afraid to say that to his stupid face, either.

So when the cauldron at the end of the table that holds the scrying potion suddenly begins bubbling on its own, Eda may very well get her chance.

She’s up on her feet in an instant, dashing to the other end of the table just as the steam rising off the potion begins to warp into a familiar figure.

“Edalyn,” Belos greets, his voice sharp like a dagger. “I do hope I’m not interrupting your evening, but I needed a word with you.”

Ugh, scrying potions weren’t supposed to work both ways! Belos was too damn powerful. He could probably peer into their lives as much as they could peer into his.

“Sorry, but now’s a bad time,” Eda shoots back. “Why don’t you hang up and call back literally never?”

“It’s come to my attention that you have something of mine,” the masked man continues smoothly as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’d ever so appreciate it if you gave it back.”

Eda’s lip curls back, feeling the itch of feathers poking out of her joints. She wants to shift into her harpy form and leap through the potion to claw out his eyes. “Sorry, Belos,” she says, dripping smug bravado, “We wild witches operate solely under the laws of finders keepers. Your kid? Mine now.”

Eda expects that the Emperor would very much like to vaporize her. “Make your threats wisely, Owl Lady. You have no idea what you’re up against. Everything will be easier for you and your little friends if you just hand the boy back over to me.”

“Fat chance.” Eda throws back her shoulders and shoots him a sharp grin. “Sounds to me like you’re threatening one of my kids, and we weirdos stick together. Going after one of us is basically asking for all of us to bring you down. Remember how well that went last time? How my human cracked your mask and publicly humiliated you during your big let’s-turn-Eda-to-stone ceremony?”

The Emperor looks as though he has some choice words to say, but Eda doesn’t care. Hunter is her kid now. She glowers at him through that mist, voice lowering in with deadly promise. “You’ll have to drag him back to your Coven over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” sneers Belos.

“Try me, antler boy.” Then Eda whacks the cauldron and sends it tipping over the edge of the table. The connection is immediately severed as the potion goes splattering over the hardwood, and the resounding CLANG of the bowl makes Hunter shoot violently out of sleep.

“Huh?! Whassit—Eda? What happened? Are you alright?”

“Fine, kid,” she says, swallowing down the rage that’s still bubbling hot in her throat. “’S alright, just got a little clumsy and knocked over a cauldron. Sorry for waking you.”

“Sorry for falling asleep,” Hunter responds. He grabs a towel and hurries to clean up the oozing purple goo.

Eda waves him off, “Eh, I don’t mind. You kids need your rest. Growing bodies and all that.”

Hunter still hesitates, looking at her for a beat too long as if double-checking to make sure she wasn’t really upset. Eda holds back a sigh, a twinge of pity flickering through her that he’d even have to look at her like that in the first place. All the damage from Belos couldn’t be wrapped up in a month, she supposed.

She snatches up the cauldron, still dripping with the ruined potion. Peachy. She’ll have to call Lilith to get her scrying potion recipe. Though maybe not having this in the house was a good idea. Eda doesn’t want to risk His Royal Highness dropping in on any more unexpected house calls.

“Eda?”

She looks up at Hunter. The kid chewing on his bottom lip, wringing the half-soiled towel between scarred hands.

“I just…I wanted to say thank you,” Hunter says shyly. “I know having me here hasn’t exactly been easy—not only because of the fugitive thing, but because I’m…” He flounders for a moment, and Eda can only pretend to know what’s going through his mind right now. “…me,” he finishes finally. “You’ve been so kind and patient with me, it’s so much more than I deserve, and no matter what happens next—”

“Hey, no.” Eda cuts him off with a swift and gentle beratement. She sets the cauldron on the table and crowds closer to him, curling one hand around his cheek. The kid automatically leans into the touch, and Eda can’t help but wonder how Belos could have ever hurt a child who was as sweet as this one.

“You may be one bratty little shit, but you’re my bratty little shit. And Mama says you deserve all the smothering that comes with being a child of the Owl Lady.”

Then, to prove her point, she swoops down and quickly places feather-light kisses on the tip of his nose, forehead, and his scar, until Hunter squawks and shoves her away. He’s practically glowing, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Gross,” he snaps, rubbing furiously at his face. “I’m never helping you with your potions ever again.”

“I’ll accept your terms. Now get upstairs, it’s way past your bedtime.”

“I don’t have a bedtime, I’m not a baby.” Hunter sticks out his tongue but obeys, slipping out of the kitchen and disappearing into the rest of the house. Eda shakes her head as she watches him go.

Kids. What could ya do with ‘em?

[natromanxoff]

Most of you probably know about the alleged tape incident of Roger’s. After constantly getting pissed off because of him getting called as “dumbass”, seeing people trying to find and watch the video (let’s be honest that is actually a little impertinent); now I am able to acknowledge better how someone out there made up some incorrect version about this, maybe even totally fake, story and the misinformation had spread around. It’s actually getting even worse when the incident in question might not have happened at all.

Last month, I have come across and received the scan of another article which had headlines about this matter. And guess what? While I was only expecting to read pure nonsense again, there was more about it - I realized that it doesn’t tell about it as Roger giving the wrong tape and it’s totally different. The Sun said “it’s stolen" too but everybody around has been saying “he gave it”. Before I start, I’d like to point out some important points: 

1. Be aware that this is, even though it has reached out to tabloids, a private issue. Whether the story is wrong or right, this is a story about a private stuff of them. Above all, Roger is already a private person himself about his personal life. Please be respectful at that if you ever say something about it.

2. You all use this story to mock him in some ways which I don’t really appreciate – it’s kind of like IILWMC –, don’t do it. I am not writing this down for you to change the context and make more jokes. My sole purpose is trying to stop this ‘gave the wrong tape’ accusation because I don’t see any source or proof regarding that. Send me if there’s any but I don’t think there is.

3. Always remember that these are only tabloid stuff. Most of the time, they are not credible or creditable at all. Those are the same papers which wrote all the horrible things when Freddie passed away. It’s hard to trust anything that those unreliable papers wrote about. But, at least, we’ll be able to see the origin of some details. Basically, keep in mind that this whole thing might not have happened at all but it also mentions nothing about him making a mistake - that part doesn’t appear anywhere on the internet actually, except on the words of fans’.

4. Let’s just not delve into this subject much more than necessary but only read the paper to see what it says. As I said, this post is written only for information.

We all know about The Sun article (May 4th, 1991). The one I mentioned now is from Sunday Mirror (SM) (May 5th, 1991). There is a couple of interesting points when you compare these two; that person asked for £10,000 from the first one anonymously and £5,000 from the second one by arranging a meeting; The Sun says they let the police know about it and some progress have already been made, SM says they gave the files to detectives the previous night; The Sun is somehow able to tell that the video was recorded in the previous year but also tells that it’s not known how the copy was made, meanwhile SM describes it with details. They make me nothing but more suspicious, like they are in contradict and something feels off. Did he request two different amounts of money from two different newspaper company by having only one copy to see which one will accept? Or were there more than one copy? If there were more than one, it makes me think that people would have found it by now. I am not going to question these anymore though, I don’t want to do that and it’s not my aim at all, because the main point I’d like to talk about and correct is how the tape has reached out to Douglas Lane, the person who tried to sell it,: by the man who was hired to do some work at Roger’s home when he was away. He thought the tape he saw on the shelf is a video from The Miracle album and took it home to watch so he basically ‘stole’ it because he ended up making a copy and giving it to Lean.

Lean claimed the tape had been “borrowed” and copied by a 47-old-friend.

The man had been hired to do building work at Taylor’s £700,000 second home in Kensington, West London, while the star was away.

He took the tape from a shelf thinking it was a video from Queen’s Miracle album.

Lean said: “He is a Queen fan so he thought he would take it home and have a look at it.”

And Douglas, who earns money in an unsatisfying amount, thought that he would get more by selling it.

“He had the sense to copy it and put the original back, but he didn’t do anything with the copy.

“He knew I was involved in music and told me about it.”

Lean, who drives a concrete mixer by day and earns £20 a night playing guitar in pubs, said: “I immediately thought I could make myself a packet out of it.

“It was my idea to sell it.”

Sunday Mirror writes that Lean said Roger edited the tape so that after those “sessions”, you see Breakthru video and he labelled the tape “Breakthru promo”.

“Taylor has no idea the video has been copied,” said Lean.

He said the tape was labelled “Breakthrough Promo” — the name of the band’s single from the Miracle album.”

I mean, really? I honestly don’t have any idea why he would do that. Why would he add a private video on a same tape with one of Queen videos? Why would he bother? If he did, why does he label it with that? Why does that worker get so curious about a video from 2 years ago? Maybe he didn’t have chance to see it in those two years, that could be the only answer. But why does he bring it to his home rather than watching it in Roger’s home? Surely, he wouldn’t see any problem at that as he’s fine with taking something that doesn’t belong to him. It’s purely a chance that he came across with something unexpected which will make him want to copy it at his home.

And after everything, this is apparently what Lean says:

But he insisted: The video was not stolen. It was just borrowed and copied.”

I can say a lot of words right now but I won’t… If all these things are really true, that is not an excuse of taking someone’s private stuff to copy without their consent, not ethical at all as he aimed to sell it and make it public. Ergo it was indeed stolen.

So, see? There is no “mixing the tapes and giving the wrong tape to a fan”. I assume this article must be the first place where that wrong version came from. And if it is telling the truth, there seems to be no mistake he has done here because his private stuff has been taken from his property unbeknownst to him. Briefly, we don’t know for sure if they had a tape and if it has really reached out to someone but if it did, then I believe this is high likely how it would happen.

It’s worth to mention that there is another theory regarding these news, that it’s been arranged to take media’s attention off Freddie. I can’t tell which one is true or if both them are wrong and nothing even happened, of course. It’s up to you, choosing whatever you’re going to believe in. But know that I can’t see any creditable source about him giving the wrong tape - so I wouldn’t suggest believing in that or keeping talking about it - and there might be more about this that we don’t / won’t know about so it’s only haste to make a judgement based on these. 

Last note about something regarding him in general: Please, don’t take the different versions of this story and comments about them into account when you form your opinion about him because only those things don’t define him. Or the other way around, “if it’s Roger, it’s probably true - he would do it” attitude is not really fair when we consider that it’s actually you who chose to perceive him in that way by getting influenced whether by the movie or some ‘facts’ around - they do not reflect some aspects of him in the right way. Always try to find an original source. It is not always only him who would have his fun in those various ways, it is possible for any other rock star. All of them did some stuff - sometimes some really bad stuff - but it is not only Roger (I don’t mean the stated story here though, I honestly can’t see anything bad there). So him being the one who is involved in this story doesn’t prove or provide any authenticity. If everyone complies with that while critizing him or not approving something about him, it is always acceptable and welcomed, in my opinion. And that is valid about everyone, of course.