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sourcherryandsprinkles · 7 months ago

Note

Daemon’s daughter and being in love with Aemond. Sprinkle some taytay songs in there

Request: Daddy I love him with Aemond I beg you

Although the song title references The Little Mermaid, the lyrics screams Aemond. I started writing this when the TTPD came out, but I lost the file (I searched for it but it’s no longer there…) and had to start over -_-

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

—

‘’But Father, I love him!’’

The words escaped your lips before you could hold them back.

Daemon's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he registered the implication of your words. He had forbidden you from courting Aemond Targaryen long ago. He thought the matter was solved, that the one-eyed prince was out of your head – of your heart —, but apparently you had gone behind his back and disrespected his authority. He shouldn't be surprised; you were your father's daughter, after all.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. He knew all too well that you had inherited his fiery temper, and a clash between your wills would only end in disaster. ‘’Love?’’ Daemon scoffed, his voice dripping with skepticism. ‘’What do you know about love?’’

Your eyebrows knitted together in a frown, hurt and anger flaring within you. Just because you were young didn't mean you couldn’t know what love was. Your feelings for Aemond were true and pure.

‘’You are not to see Aemond anymore. I don’t want you to ever go back to King’s Landing. Am I understood?’’ Daemon's voice was cold and authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

‘’You can’t cage me in this castle,’’ you shot back, your defiance burning brightly.

‘’But I can assign a guard to follow you around,’’ Daemon countered, his tone unyielding. ‘’Do not underestimate how far I will go to keep you from him.’’

The room fell into a tense silence as you watched your father leave your chambers, slamming the door behind.

You wanted to scream in anger and frustration. Why was everyone protesting your and Aemond’s courtship? In a realm where political marriages overpowered ones of true love, they should be happy for you. Instead, they were demonizing the man you loved.

Aemond didn’t always make the right choices, but he was not a bad person. He had a heart, and genuinely cared for you — contrarily to what your father believed. You met him on the day of your mother’s funeral. He found you in a corner of Driftmark, crying by yourself. He offered you comfort while your father was avoiding his daughters, not knowing what to say to any of you.

⁂

If your father thought he could control you by having a guard follow you around all day, he was strongly mistaken. A fortnight had gone since he forbade you to see Aemond, and you were already planning an escape. You had sent a raven to King's Landing, informing Aemond of all that happened with your father and requesting to meet you at the Iron Gate on the new moon, which was tonight.

You waited until nightfall to change into your riding clothes and sneak out of Dragonstone castle. Assuming you were sleeping, Ser Erryk had left from his post and gone abed for the night in the sword quarters, leaving you without a chaperon until morning.

The flight to King’s Landing took longer than you had calculated, but you made it before the first ships would sail through Blackwater Bay.

From above, Aemond could be seen waiting for you by the gate, standing tall in his black leathers and his sword secured on his hip. He must have been waiting for you for most of the night.

You landed with your dragon on the shore, and skillfully dismounted before running up to him. Your hair billowed in the wind, the joy spreading on your face as you got closer and closer. A warmth spread through your chest as he finally embraced you, his arms closing around you, holding you tight.

‘’You are here,’’ Aemond murmured in your hair. ‘’I was beginning to believe your plan had been discovered.’’ He released you, taking your gloved hands in his and kissing them. ‘’Come. It’s cold out.’’

Sneaking inside the Red Keep was nothing new. You had done it many times.

The door of Aemond’s chambers closed behind you. He cupped your chin and pulled you up towards him, his lips finding yours like a magnetic pull was forcing them together. A soft, loving kiss, making up for the time spent apart.

You wrapped your arms around Aemond’s neck as you felt him grabbing your thighs and lifting you up to press you against his body. The maneuver was much easier without a dress in the way. You tangled your fingers in the back of his hair, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as you nipped at his bottom lip.

Aemond let out a guttural moan, breaking the kiss. ‘’Don’t,’’ he warned, his lips so close you felt his warm breath when he spoke. ‘’You drive me mad when you do that…’’

His warning triggered your defiance. With mischief in your eyes, you took his bottom lip between your teeth, and released it. ‘’That?’’ you asked, playing the innocent card.

Aemond’s eye darkened at your defiance, and he gave you a glare that could make even the bravest men run for the hills. He walked you over to his bed, setting you down on his velvet sheets. You pulled him down with you, but Aemond stopped you, standing to remove his sword and anything that would bother him when holding you close.

You wished you had more time together, but you needed to depart for Dragonstone before the sun started to rise. If you stay longer, your father will be alerted of your empty bed and you’ll have to face the wrath of his anger.

⁂

Drenched in rainwater, guards opened the doors as you stepped inside the castle. You got caught by the rain on your way back, which slowed you down.

Without surprise, your father was waiting for you in the great hall.

His voice was stern as he questioned you. ‘’Where have you been?’’ Daemon waited expectantly for your explanation, although he already has his suspicions.

He had been your age once. It seemed some of his worse traits were in you too — stubborn, defiant, impulsive. And now he was the one who had to deal with it. Add to this your mother’s fiery personality, and it became Daemon’s worst nightmare.

Fortunately for him, your sister did not share those traits as strongly as you.

‘’Good morrow to you, Father. Did you sleep well?’’ you asked, trying to find a quick lie.

Would he believe you if you said you went for an early walk on the beach?

Daemon's eyes narrowed as you evaded his question with your own greeting. ‘’Don't play games with me, young lady. A maid came in to see if you needed help dressing for the day, and found your bed empty. Dragon gone. You were with him!’’ His voice dripped with venom.

You couldn't hide your late night escapades from him. There was no point in trying.

With his gaze fixed on you he continued. ‘’He's going to ruin your life, ruin your name,’’ Daemon roared, slamming his fists on the painted table just as Rhaenyra walked in, holding baby Viserys on her hip.

‘’I do not care! My name is mine alone to disgrace. He’s the one I want, the one I love,’’ you shot back, wishing he could see past his hatred.

‘’May I know what it is with the loud voices this morning?’’ Rhaenyra asked, glancing between you and Daemon. ‘’You can be heard in the villages below the Dragonmont.’’

Your father turned his gaze toward his wife, trying to keep his temper in check. ‘’She flew to King’s Landing in the dead of the night to see that one-eyed Hightower cunt!’’

‘’Do not call him that!’’ Your eyes were blazing with anger.

‘’Daemon,’’ Rhenyra scolded, her eyes going to young Viserys who should not be hearing such words.

‘’Don’t go thinking I am out of ways to keep you away from him,’’ Daemon warned. ‘’You might have slipped from Ser Erryk’s watch, but I will exile you to Pentos if that’s what it takes. The Prince’s son is conveniently looking for a wife.’’

Your eyes welled with tears, but you blinked them away. Pentos was where your mother died. The thought of going there and being forced to build a family made you unwell. ‘’Y-you wouldn’t dare.’’

‘’I would. You will not marry Aemond Targaryen. I’ll never allow it.’’

‘’I’m afraid you have no choice,’’ you said, straightening your back before bringing a hand over your stomach. ‘’His babe is in my womb.’’

A murderous look twisted on Daemon’s face. His hand tightened over his sword, as if he was ready to bolt on Caraxes and behead Aemond Targaryen. Kinslayer was not a title he was afraid of.

Beside him, Rhaenyra grabbed his arm, silently telling him to not do anything impulsive.

‘’No, I'm not,’’ you quickly added, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. ‘’But you should see your faces.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #prince aemond #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon season 2

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certaimromance · 7 months ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 So Long, Quantico.

Prison Reid x Fem!reader

Read part two here!

Summary: Your best friend asks you for a favor and you must defend the innocence of the man you were in love with, the same man for whom you left the FBI and moved to another country years ago.

Words: 1,6k.

Warnings & Tags: mentions of murder, trauma, death, jail. angst without happy ending. miscommunication. right person, wrong time. reid's time in jail. spoilers for season 13 and all the ones before that. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: First of all I want to thank you for all the support in my first post because the truth is that I didn't expect (if you haven't read it yet, I already have my masterlist). I still can't believe I reached 1000 notes, it makes me very happy.

And secondly, I apologize in advance for this, but I love drama and being a little cliche sometimes. I promise to write a nice, comfortable, less dramatic Spencer story in the future (I hope so) but ttpd is my everything lately.

The constant pounding of your right leg against the table was beginning to make you desperate and to dwarf the room. You didn't know what to do to stop and think for a few seconds, you had even lost count of all the times you had tried to fix your already perfect and ironed clothes that you had spent hours choosing and modeling in front of your hotel mirror.

It felt like hours had passed since you arrived at the prison, though it was probably only a few minutes. Part of you wanted to run out of there and avoid a dangerous reunion at all costs. The other part was anchored to the chair and would not move until you found a way to get Spencer out of there and fulfill the favor Emily had asked of you.

You couldn't let your best friend down, especially when her job could be in jeopardy if Reid was still in prison. You wanted to make sure she was okay, and repay her for all the favors she had done for you during the years you had lived together in London. Without her, you probably would not have survived or become the successful and respected lawyer you were now. She helped you heal when you needed it, now it was your turn to help.

Before you could think, grab your things and maybe even leave the room to catch your breath, a guard abruptly opened the door. Your eyes immediately fell on the handcuffed man the guard had practically thrown into the chair in front of you.

You blinked several times, trying to process that you were actually standing in front of him. He looked so different from the way you remembered him from the occasional picture Prentiss showed you. The years hadn't gone by for nothing, you knew that, but Spencer looked like someone else. It was more than the messy hair, the beard, or the numerous bruises on his face that made you wince. It was that his eyes no longer sparkled, and he himself looked dull.

The guard came out after warning them that they only had fifteen minutes, and the cameras pointed directly at you two.

“Hey.” That was all you could say, biting your inner cheek at how stupid it sounded.

At first he didn't react and hardly seemed to breathe. His expression was like seeing a ghost, and you couldn't blame him after so many years of not hearing from you. You knew you looked different from the last time you saw each other because you had tried too hard to look like someone else. You wore your hair shorter and a different color, even the way you dressed was other. You looked more serious and grown up.

“What are you doing here?” He asked dryly after scanning you with his eyes for a few seconds.

You froze when you heard him speak and his voice, once music to your ears, was like a kick in the stomach.

“I came to help. I thought Emily told you...”

“She told me that she wanted to call you but I told her not to.” Spencer cut you off before you could continue speaking. “That you weren't going to help me.”

You frowned as your brain processed those words.

“Why not? You...you are my friend.” You said, trying to hide the tremor in your voice.

He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, trying to look away from you because it hurt. You could feel the tension multiply, making it almost impossible to breathe in the small room.

“Friends don't stop talking for six years and pretend the other doesn't exist.”

Oh, that had hurt.

It was true that you had disappeared from his life six years ago, and you had not made the slightest effort to return, even leaving the country with the excuse of looking for a better future. But you had your hidden reasons, you wanted to forget Spencer Reid and your intensely ridiculous and unrequited love.

From the first time you heard him talk about statistics and smile at you like a child, realizing that you listened to him like no one else, you fell madly in love with him for years. Always hoping that one day he would stop thinking of you as his friend and realize how much he deserved to be loved and that you would be happy to do so, that you could give him the whole world without hesitation if he asked you to.

At first you thought he wasn't that interested in love, that he was too smart and focused to lose his mind like you did for him. However, then you saw him several times interested and pining for other girls: the movie actress, JJ, the girl at the bar and Maeve...she was very different and painful for you.

You couldn't stand his strong love for her, at least not being so close to him and having to play the role of the best friend who always listened to him repeat how wonderful she was. Knowing that he could fall in love with someone he didn't even know personally instead of you, whom he saw every day and had known for years, changed you and made you run away to save your heart.

You got a new job far from the United States, thanks to Agent Hotchner and his glowing letter of recommendation. And so you went back to being an ordinary lawyer, no longer chasing serial killers or a boy genius who never loved you as you would have liked.

“Spence, I...” You tried to speak softly, almost having the urge to take his hand to make the situation better, but you didn't. “I'm sorry.”

He was obviously tense, he wouldn't even look you in the eye and you could swear his eyes were a little crystallized. He barely glanced at you for a second before speaking again.

“You don't have to say it if it's not true.”

“It's true.”

You stopped yourself for a second, sighing and centering yourself again.

“But I'm here for the case, to help you with that...and I'm sorry for everything that happened to you.” You said more calmly and with an almost sweet tone.

You both knew it was more than just the prison issue and the current situation. It was a sorry for Maeve's death, Alex, Morgan and Hotch's resignation, his mother's problems, Cat's damn appearance, and most of all for not being there to support him in all.

“You should have called and said so.” He finally responded after letting out a snort and tensing his jaw more.

“Yeah...I should have.” You admitted, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

You thought silence would take over the room again, but instead he spoke again.

“You can go now.”

“I'm not going anywhere unless you're free.” You pointed out with determination.

“You don't have a problem with go before.” He said in the same indifferent tone that was beginning to irritate you.

You should have frozen, kept quiet and focused on the case to get him out of there. But you couldn't do that and act professional when your insides were burning with the memory of the past.

“Don't give me that, you know why I did.” You blurt out, frowning and instinctively pushing the chair away from the table that separates you from him.

“You never said anything to me.” He replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration before speaking again. “You just disappeared like everyone else I've ever loved because you got bored with me.”

“You know I left for the opposite reason, because I...” You tried to say, but your voice cracked and your hands shook in an awkward attempt to touch his. “I loved you the way that you were and...”

The sudden sound of the door opening made you gasp and immediately shut up. The presence of a grim-faced guard made you realize it was all over, and you pulled your hand away from Spencer's again.

“Time's up.” The guard reported and you signaled him to have at least more minutes.

Fortunately, the guard nodded and gave you only five more minutes. You looked at your client again, trying to get into the professional role and discuss his case, but he seemed to be in another world after your half sentences.

There was no room in Reid's mind for your words, after feeling guilty for so long for not doing enough to be a good friend to you, for scaring you away with his problems, for not being one you wanted to keep over time and return his calls. But now, did you really say what you thought? Did you really love and care for him?

Everything was tearing his word apart in that moment.

“You won't have to see me if you don't want to, but I'll get you out of here soon, Spencer. I swear.” You promised and you could see in his face the surprise at your honest tone.

Maybe he expected a different attitude from you, maybe he thought you were still so obsessed with him that you would insist on seeing him and kill yourself to make him laugh again. But you had matured, or so you thought. You were no longer the young woman who hugged him every time he felt far away and was content to be the one who was left over. Now, you were the brave woman who left the ship before it sank completely.

As you watched the guard check the handcuffs and lift Spencer out of the seat to take him away, something inside you reacted. You called out his name before you could react and quickly had his desperate eyes on you.

“You don't have to worry about the past...I'm over you.” You said confidently before nodding goodbye and walking out with one less burden.

He remained anchored to the ground, trying to process your words with his racing mind as he watched you leave him again.

You...you had been in love with him?

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #matthew gray gubler

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lokidjarin-7567 · 12 days ago

Text

The Alchemy

Hwang In-ho (professor AU) x Reader

Your chemistry professor caught your eye the moment you walked into class, and as time went on, you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore. Did he feel it too, or were you doomed to heartbreak?

fem!reader x Professor Hwang In-ho, smut, fluff, a little angst and everything in between, badly edited, multiple POV, 18+ MDNI

8.5k words (sorry not sorry)

And here it is!! I’ve been obsessed with him for a while now, so very glad Squid Game is giving him the recognition he deserves from a Western audience. Decided to da a Professor AU because yum, so hope you enjoy x

Taglist: @nicki-lovesolderfictionalmen @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @nunita23

TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You knew it was wrong. Your obsession with him. Everything about him was thoroughly captivating to you: the way he spoke, the way he dressed, the way he walked around the lecture hall with such confidence. You were enthralled every single lesson, so attentive and studious, hanging on his every last word like it was some kind of spell for everlasting life. Really, if you thought about it, it was actuallly a good thing. Your grades were better, you hadn’t missed a single lecture since the term began, and you were putting more effort into your studies in a desperate effort to impress him. And the cherry on top of the cake was that he had noticed. He knew you by name, he always picked you first if you had your hand up, and he even added complimentary comments to your papers. Even if he was old enough to be your dad, even if there was a power imbalance, even if nothing could ever happen between you, your crush only continued to grow stronger.

“I know, I know, class is nearly over, but we’ve got a few more things to cover, so let’s wake you all up with a little organic pop-quiz.” A few groans echoed around the room, but you smiled. Organic chemistry was your favourite, especially when he taught it, so you watched as he drew a few molecules on the whiteboard. A formula, and a damn easy one.

“Can anyone tell me the primary product here?” Your hand was up before the question was finished, but you tried to limit your keen nature - only half-raising your hand lazily as you doodled the finished equation on your notepad. You liked to think you were quite good at hiding your adoration for him. Yes, you could listen to him talk for hours, but you knew when to watch him and when to take notes. You knew when to speak up and when to stay quiet. You could control your face, aside from the occasional blush, never sitting there with puppy-dog eyes or biting your pen like they do in the movies. You were subtle - small smiles after a compliment, gazing with admiration when he wasn’t looking, answering any questions quickly but with professionalism and confidence. The perfect student. But you never, ever flirted. You knew that was academic suicide, especially with a Professor as influential as him. You were content with detached obsession. For now, at least.

Your heart did flutter, though, at the smile and small chuckle he gave when he saw your hand.

“Of course, the only student I have that actually enjoys organic…” You heard a few hums of agreement from the students behind you, saw the nods from the ones in front. You smiled at your reputation.

“What can I say, at least you always have someone to answer your questions…” Another laugh, music to your ears.

“That is true. Go ahead.”

“Well, that’s ethanol and that’s ethanoic acid so you would produce ethyl ethanoate.”

“Ah, I made it too easy for you! Should have mixed up the length of the polymers so you would have to think about which prefix came first.” Another flash of a smile.

“Rookie error.” You joked, and it was the closest you’d ever been to flirting. The back and forth was making you blush, the way his eyes were fixed to you from the front of the classroom. You were in your usual spot in the third row - the perfect distance to see him clearly, but not too close to look keen. Although, that point was kind of defeated by the amount of times your hand was first up, no matter how nonchalantly you tried to do it. His eyes were glittering with a slight playfulness now, head slightly cocked and you were bewitched as a few locks of his neat hair fell across his forehead.

“In that case, come and draw it for me please.” Fuck. He looked pleased with himself, hand brushing the fallen strands back, small smirk playing across his features. You sighed, heading to the front of the room in defeat. He handed you the whiteboard pen, fingers brushing yours just slightly. They were soft, delicate and warm, and his eyes were firmly fixed on you as you muttered a quiet thank you. You didn’t get to see him this close often, but you didn’t have time to take him in beyond the deep brown of his eyes, his height compared to yours, and the light scent of sandalwood that seemed to cling to the air around him even after he had walked past you back to the front of the room.

“While she’s doing that, can someone else tell me the uses of this ester please?” You were grateful your back was to the rest of the class, a furious blush spreading across your cheeks at the proximity. He glanced back at your shorthand sketch, giving you a small nod of encouragement.

“Good, and in full please.” You obeyed wordlessly, just finishing the second bond on the oxygen when the bell rang.

“That’s it for today then, everybody. Check the online portal for the homework.” He called out above the sound of bags being packed. “Oh, and there are more practical classes this term, so your timetables are also on the portal for those. I know they’re boring, and I know you’ve done them all a million times, but you have to do them again to pass!” He sighed, half the class already gone by the time he finished his sentence. He turned back to you, holding his hand out with a smile and you passed the marker back to him, careful not to brush his hand this time. As much as you wanted to feel his skin against yours again, you would blush too obviously to get away with it. “Thank you,” he said to you quietly, “I know at least one student will show for the practicals.”

“No worries.” You didn’t want to leave yet, allowing yourself to enjoy the being around him a little now the rest of the class was clearing out. He was wearing your favourite suit today - charcoal grey wool - with a soft, baby blue shirt and a navy tie. He was meticulous as ever: understated silver tie pin perfectly level, tie itself knotted immaculately, hair brushed back neatly. Even his shoes were perfect, not a single scuff on the leather. Being around him like this was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but talk to him just a little more as the last student filed out of the room. “What will the first practical be, out of interest?” You asked, forcing yourself to move back to your desk and slowly pack up your things.

“Just a distillation, I think...” He replied, trailing off and absentmindedly flicking through a few papers on his desk. You nodded, sensing his loss of interest, slinging your bag over your shoulder with just a hint of disappointment.

“Ok, sounds good. Thank you Professor…” You turned towards the door, but froze when you heard him call your name. You turned back around to see him looking at you slightly expectantly, a nervous energy buzzing from him that you’d never seen before.

“Before you go, I was just wondering if you’d picked an advisor yet? I know the decision is coming up in a few weeks.”

“No, I haven’t actually…” In all honestly, you had two options. And he was one of them. Of course he was. He was the best in the university, not to mention one of the best in his field. You learnt the most from him, you had the best relationship with him compared to the rest of your Professors. There were only two reasons why he wouldn’t be a perfect choice. Firstly, he was very picky with who he takes on, but if this conversation was going the way you thought it was, problem solved. The second, and much bigger, issue was your little obsession. If he was your advisor, you would see him one-on-one every two weeks at least, on top of class time, practicals time and in between all of that if you had questions. And for most people that had a crippling crush like you did, they would be jumping for joy at the opportunity to spend more quality time with them. But you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to make a move on him, or make your feelings for him obvious because it could destroy everything you had worked so hard towards. But equally, having him on your side was a great accolade, and it would do you wonders in your academic career.

You were a big girl. You could handle a little crush.

“Well…” He continued, hand running through his hair again before starting to pack up his own things. “I would very much like to fill that role unless you had anyone else in mind. You’re incredibly talented, and passionate about the subject in a way I don’t see often. You don’t have to decide right now, of course…”

“I would love that.” Your mouth had answered before your brain caught up, but his wide smile solidified your resolve.

“Excellent. Well, how does Friday sound for our first meeting? I think that’s when you’re scheduled for the practical, so that makes it easy…”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you, again, Professor Hwang, I appreciate the opportunity…”

“Not at all. The pleasure is all mine.” His wide smile warmed your heart thoroughly, and you left before you could melt into a puddle on the floor at the nature of his words.

It had been a couple of months now, and dear God, it was driving you insane. You’d made a huge mistake, and unfortunately for you, it was an unfixable one. He was the perfect advisor in every way - attentive, intelligent, willing, passionate, everything you could ever want. But being so close to him was driving you crazy. Once a fortnight, it was just you and him in his office, talking for an hour, joking, laughing, fighting every urge in your body to climb across the desk and give in to your desires. You had even started to dress up for him - purposely putting in extra effort the days you knew you had a meeting. The crush was getting much worse too, obsession starting to take over. For days after your meeting, all you could do was analyse every tiny interaction you had, every time he looked at you or spoke to you or even breathed differently. And fucking hell it was driving you insane.

You were sure it was getting harder to hide too. Before, it was less of a crush, more an admiration. Yes, you were aware he was attractive, but more than anything, you were capitavated by his teaching and passion. Now, all of that was still true, but all you could think about was how much you wanted to fuck him. Twice just that week you had missed half the class caught up in a daydream, not even being able to answer him when he called on you, too busy thinking about him bending you over his desk and having his way with you. Your last paper got a B because every time you tried to write, all you could think about was him reading it. What he would be wearing when he graded it at home. Comfortable clothes, surely, hair messy and uncouth. What he would think of it, whether he would smile at your words and add little notes when he agreed with what you were saying. Whether he truly thought as much about you while reading it as you thought of him while writing it.

You’d fucked up. You’d gotten too close, irreversibly so, and now, you had to see him today. You knew he would have something to say about your grades dropping. It was getting too obvious. You just hoped he would accept whatever bullshit you managed to invent on the spot. Your knuckles rapped against his office door, heart stuck in your throat.

She had caught his eye the minute she stepped into his lecture hall that first day of term. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly about her, whether it was her eyes, or hair, or lips. Or maybe it was just her. The confidence she seemed to exude, her sense of style, the studious and determined look she always seemed to have on her face. She was the most active participant in his classes, and every time he called on her, she would answer with such enthusiasm and excitement. He could tell how much she genuinely enjoyed the subject from the very first lesson, and even as the term continued, her passion didn't waver like some students’ did. She hadn’t missed a single lecture - always there in the same spot on the third row, and he was grateful for her choice of seat. It was close enough to see her, not too close to make it obvious that he was staring, and it was also far enough into the classroom that he had time to admire her while she made her way to her seat. To watch her while she was focussed elsewhere - namely, walking down the stairs without falling over. He enjoyed the time it gave him to work out how she was feeling on a day, whether she seemed dejected or excited, shy or outgoing. He liked how easy it was for him to read her.

And, if he was honest with himself, he liked the attention too. The first time he saw her, he knew he would be head over heels for a little while, and he accepted that. She was his student, and nothing could happen, so he buried it and got on with his lectures as usual, with only a few extra glances thrown her way when he knew she wouldn't be looking. But then he noticed it. The coy smiles, the extended glances, the occasional time he caught her biting her lip or pen. The way she blushed furiously if he ever caught her in the act. The first few times, he wrote it off as coincidence and wishful thinking, but eventually, it clicked that there was something there. Something charged. And he thrived off that energy.

That was why he had put forward the idea of being her advisor. If he was honest, he knew it was a terrible idea. That it could get messy, that he could get too close, that he would hurt his own feelings. But ultimately, he wanted to be near her as much as possible, and at the end of the day, in every scenario of shit hitting the fan, he was always the one that got fucked over. His feelings were clearly stronger than hers - something he had noticed recently swelling in his heart unreciprocated - and he was the one with his job on the line. He was the only one at risk, and he was willing to take that risk to be closer to her.

Recently, though, she’d seemed different. Distracted. Stressed. Avoidant. Her grades were dropping, she was barely talking in class and when he spoke to her one-on-one, he would catch her shrinking back into herself if she laughed too much, as though she was second guessing everything she did. He’d done everything to hide his feelings, and honestly, he thought he was doing a good job, but maybe she felt uncomfortable around him. Maybe he was being obvious and he’d misread her feelings. Or maybe she was just going through a rough patch in her personal life.

He had a meeting with her today, and he couldn’t think of anything but seeing her for the whole day. What she would be wearing, how or if he would broach the topic, what he should even say to her… He was struggling to concentrate on his lectures, mind wandering to her.

The relief washed through his body when he heard her knuckles softly knock against the door. He was worried she wouldn’t even come.

“Come in.” She opened the door cautiously, small smile on her lips. She looked more beautiful than she ever had somehow. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, just some natural blush and mascara, and her hair was down and framing her face perfectly. Her outfit was simple but classy; all black, simple satin skirt and skintight tee, chunky knit cardigan over the top.

“Hi Professor.” She replied cheerily, but there was a hint of something unreadable in her voice. Weariness, maybe? Stress? “How has your day been?” He smiled as they fell into their usual chatty routine, mind slightly at ease.

“Not too bad, thank you, although a few too many lectures for my liking. How was yours?” She laughed lightly, the sound warming his heart.

“Same problem for me too. A lot of lectures, none of them particularly interesting…” it seemed as though she wanted to say something else but bit her tongue, and he couldn’t help but feel himself deflate. He wanted her to be able to feel more comfortable around him, but she was holding herself back.

“That’s because I wasn’t teaching them…” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them, but to his relief, she smiled, a small chuckle escaping from her.

“Something like that.” She paused for a beat, seeming awkward and unsure. “Look, Professor, before we get into the stuff about my dissertation, I just wanted to talk to you about something…” The serious nature of her tone made his heart lurch, and he wanted to reach out and hold her hands, to drain away her evident nerves. She wasn’t even meeting his eyes, just wringing her hands in her lap as she tried to say what she needed to.

“Of course, my office is always an open space to talk about whatever you need to.” He hoped his words were comforting, and by her small smile, they had at least offered some small reassurance.

“I just wanted to apologise. I know my grades have been slipping a little the past few weeks, and I just wanted to make sure you knew that I’m on it and I’m doing everything to get them back up. I think I’ve just been a little distracted, and I don’t know really…” She was rambling, and his heart hurt for her. Yes, he had noticed her grades slipping a little, but it was from an A to a B for maybe two papers and a quiz. It wouldn’t affect her overall grade, and it certainly wouldn’t affect his opinion of her. He couldn’t help but wonder why she felt the need to apologise or explain herself.

“You have no reason to apologise. Everyone has better weeks than others, and it’s not going to affect your performance in my class or anything like that…”

“But…” she looked confused, as though she was genuinely trying to figure out why he wasn’t annoyed with her. “You’re Professor Hwang. I mean, you’re the best in your department, maybe even in the whole university. You pick your students that you want to advise because they’re the best, and I’ve not been…”

“First of all, I definitely am the best Professor in the *whole university*, thank you, but more importantly, that’s not why I pick people to mentor. I pick people based on their passion, talent, and work ethic. Not because they’re a machine who churns out A* papers every single week and has nothing else going on in their life that might affect that.” Once he’d finished talking, he looked up at her to see her close to tears, still staring at her hands in her lap.

“I, um…” she cleared her throat, finally meeting his eyes with a gratefulness he hadn’t seen in her before. A vulnerability he didn’t recognise, but wanted to see more of nonetheless. “Thank you for saying that. Really. None of my other Professors seem to think in that way.” Then under her breath, barely audible, she added something extra. “Neither do my family for that matter.”

“Well, as I said, my office is always open. If you ever have something you need to talk about, I’m here.”

“Thank you, truly.” She replied earnestly, and found himself struggling to reply as his heart swelled. He hadn’t realised how protective he felt over her until he saw her upset, but now, hand clenched by his side at the thought of someone making her feel unworthy over a few grades, he realised that maybe his feelings had blossomed a little more than he wanted them to.

The day after was another practical class. Just a titration, a check box more than anything with the calibre of his students. They knew what they were doing. Especially her. It would hopefully be an easy half hour; just let them do their thing, tick it off in the system, and be finished with it.

What he hadn't banked on, however, was the student that seemed to spend his whole time flirting with her.

She had been the first in the classroom that afternoon. She seemed tired, the last lesson after a likely busy day, but even more so than usual, her normally flawless makeup doing little to hide the puffy bags under her eyes. Her outfit was clean and put together, but a lot more basic than what she usually wore, just jeans and a baby tee, with none of her usual quirky flourishes. He was about to ask if she was ok, to talk to her more than the perfunctory hello she had thrown his way at the door when another student entered the classroom close behind her. The whole space was empty, but he decided to sit directly beside her. She seemed annoyed, making polite small talk but not much else and he just didn't seem to be taking the hint. He was leaning too close, laughing too loud, looking at her for too long…

His own jealousy surprised him. It was rage, pure and simple, white hot and blinding. He felt inordinately possessive, wanting nothing more than to shove him across the classroom and teach him a lesson about personal space, but as more students piled in to the space, all he could do was glare and hope he got the hint. Eventually though, she solved the problem herself. He had been so close to interfering, so blinded by anger he had started to move towards her bench, but she just stood up, and walked away from him mid sentence, ignoring him completely. The look of shock on his face was priceless, but the joy it brought him was quickly replaced with anger once again as the kid shifted in his seat, blushing red and muttering ‘bitch’ under his breath. If In-ho had a knife, he genuinely could have killed him in that moment. Because how fucking dare he.

But instead, he breathed in deeply before moving over to him calmly and giving him a menacing, tight-lipped smile. The student met his eyes with a perplexed look, but he just spoke over him before he had a chance to say anything else.

“If you ever talk about one of my students, let alone a woman, like that again, you will be barred from my class and the entirety of the chemistry department for the rest of your academic career, both at this school and wherever else you may choose to study. Is that crystal clear?” He said it so calmly, so coldly, that the kid just sat there in stunned silence for a moment, and he had to raise his eyebrow to prompt him to answer.

“Um… yes… yes Professor.” He stammered, and he smiled again without any warmth.

“Good, now find a new desk and complete your practical, or else you’ll have to retake my class, and you really don't want that, do you?” He shook his head frantically, scrambling away with his things and finding a space near the back of the room.

She looked confused for a moment when she got back to the now empty bench, but on glancing around the room and meeting his eyes, she smiled warmly at him in gratitude, blush spreading across her cheeks. He would do anything if it meant she smiled at him like that.

It had been an hour, and apart from one broken conical flask, there had been no major mishaps, and almost all of his students had finished their titrations. Except for her. She was on her fourth attempt now, the last student apart from her silently filing out of the classroom, and she was getting increasingly frustrated each time. He was trying to be subtle, to not make her feel pressured at all, but he couldn't help but watch as she turned the stopcock so slightly, letting a single drop fall into the flask, and he watched it turn colour perfectly… until the stopcock wasn't closed properly, another few drops sneaking through and pushing it past the end point colour.

“Fuck!” Every other attempt, it had been a quiet frustration, hidden under her breath, but this time she couldn't help it, cursing loudly and slamming her hand on the table. He could hear her heavy breaths even from across the room, her hand dragging through her hair in annoyance. She almost looked close to tears, just staring at the failed experiment. He muttered her name in concern, standing up ready to help her, but she just shook her head, grabbing the flask and heading to empty it.

“I’m so sorry for my outburst, Professor, my language was completely inappropriate…”

“No that’s not it at all, curse all you want…” He moved over to her desk as he spoke, but she was busying herself setting up again, not meeting his eyes. So he said her name again, firmly but kindly, garnering her attention without upsetting her. It worked, and she stopped moving for a moment, slightly out of breath in frustration. “Are you ok? You don’t seem yourself at all…” She was grinding her jaw as he spoke, trying to hold her emotions back, but a tear fell from her eye regardless, rolling down her cheek. She huffed loudly, wiping it away quickly and looking to the ceiling, trying to blink back the other tears that were threatening to spill.

“I’m fine.” She insisted, but her voice cracked as she did, another tear escaping as she muttered another curse under her breath. “Sorry, I’m just wasting your time today…”

“Never.” He said firmly, moving to her side of the desk. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what going on, I just can’t seem to…” another tear rolled down her cheek, his heart broke for her.

“Hey, take a second, just breathe, ok? Sit down, cry if you need to, just take a moment.” She nodded, sitting down on the lab stool with a snuffle. He sat down too, tucking his stool slightly closer to her and waiting until she was ready.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m just overwhelmed. I didn’t sleep too well last night, so I’ve been exhausted all day. One of my professors gave me shit for being late even though the bus broke down on my way here, and that ruined my mood. Another lecture turned out to be some surprise test thing nobody had prepared for so that was horrible. And… well I’m just rambling now and I don’t know if I’ve told you this yet but I might as well at this point because I guess it’s something you should know as my advisor - I have general anxiety disorder and…” she paused, catching her breath and scoffing slightly as she continued speaking quickly, “well, and a whole host of other things I don’t have time to go into but I’ve spent most of the afternoon warding off panic attacks hence the…” She trailed off, holding up her hand which was shaking like a leaf. “So I can’t focus, I can’t control the equipment even though I’ve done at least 30 titrations in my academic career and I was honestly just looking forward to seeing… to doing something practical with my day but…” He didn’t think she’d even noticed the tears starting to fall, but he did immediately. He also noticed the way her voice was getting breathier, and the increasingly frantic look in her eyes. He was worried. She seemed worn out, way too thinly strung and now here she was, crying over an experiment he knew she could do in her sleep. She needed to take care of herself for a bit, to take it easy. But right now, maybe he could help.

His hand moved to her face, brushing the tears away before moving to her shoulder and squeezing.

“Hey, slow down. Look at me. Breathe.” He took a long deep breath, his eyes fixed firmly to hers as she copied, repeating the action a few times. He watched as she slowly seemed to calm, shoulders dropping and tears drying up. “That’s better.”

“I’m so sorry, this was only supposed to take like half an hour. I’ve derailed your whole afternoon, I just don’t know what’s come over me today.” He sighed. The way she felt she had to be sorry for being human made him feel so protective of her, so willing to hurt anyone who made her feel this way.

“You’re stressed, you didn’t sleep well and your anxiety is flaring up. None of that is something you have to apologise for. And you definitely don’t have to apologise for derailing my day - my evening consists of grading papers and getting an early night. Both of those things can wait even if this titration takes all night.” She laughed, wiping away the last of her tears with a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” Her hand moved to rest atop his, which was still sitting on her arm, squeezing slightly. His breath caught briefly at the contact, and it took all the self control in his body to not lean into her touch, to kiss her then and there.

“Always…” he muttered, smiling softly, and after another beat, he slid his hand away, feeling cold at the lack of warmth from her. “Now,” he took a deep breath, grounding himself to reality. *Student, teacher, do the maths - not a good idea.* “Let’s finish this practical.”

His presence was so calming to you. After four failed attempts, you were already doing a lot better - hands steady, breaths even, a serenity you hadn't felt all day. He wasn’t even helping you; just being nearby was enough. He’d grabbed a few papers from his desk and was quietly grading while you worked, the occasional turn of paper and scratch of pen relaxing you. It was starting to get to the difficult part now, but your hands didn't fail you, adding the titrate drop by drop, swirling the flask until… it stayed pink. Just enough, a soft wash of magenta, and you couldn't help but grin.

“See…” he muttered, not once looking up from his papers, “I told you you could do it.” You smiled even wider, holding back every urge within you to hug him.

“Thank you.” You settled on the sentiment instead, jotting down the final measurements. “And…”

“I swear if you try to apologise again, I will kick you out of my class once and for all.” God he knew you so well. You chuckled lightly, biting your tongue to stop you from apologising for that as well.

“Never again, I promise.”

You had packed up, moving as quickly as possible to ensure you didn't waste any more of his time, but honestly, you wanted to be around him just a little longer. Today had taught you that maybe your ever-growing feelings might not be a problem, but a help. He was so calming to be around, so good at putting your doubt and anxiety at ease, and talking to him was easy, terrifyingly so. His company was soothing, and on bad days, at least you knew you had a place to go.

And now, you had to face the long bus to your off-campus apartment, followed by an evening alone with your thoughts.

You had sorted your things, putting on your coat and pulling up the hood, bracing yourself to head out in the dark and rainy evening.

“Thank you again for everything, Professor, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait…” he called out your name as you opened the door, and you paused, internally sighing in relief. “How are you getting home?”

“Just the bus from campus, its not far to the station from here…”

“I’ll take you, I’m leaving here anyway.”

“No, I couldn't ask you to do that, Sir…”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Where am I taking you?” You blushed at his comment, heart leaping at the authoritative tone, but telling him anyway. “That's only a few streets away from me, it’s not out of my way at all.”

“Only if you’re sure…”

“I wouldn't have offered otherwise.”

You had made it to the awning of the building, the last moment of peace before you were bombarded by the rain. He followed you out, sighing slightly.

“Do you smoke?” He asked, and the question surprised you slightly. He’d never struck you as the type, but now, as you turned around to see him standing with a cigarette dangling between his lips, you couldn't believe how natural it looked.

“Yeah…” You were relieved. You had been desperate for one all afternoon, but hadn't had a chance. You moved to open your handbag, unsure of where you'd left them, but he had already extended his pack out towards you. You smiled.

“Thank you…” He lit yours first, shielding it with his hands for you, and you couldn't help but notice how close he was to you. He lit his own, and you watched it awe at his beauty as the lighter illuminated his face. His first drag was long and desperate, the deep sigh he let out when he breathed echoing your own relief. You wondered if that's what he’d be like when you were on your knees for him quiet but needy, hand running through his hair and…

“What are your plans this weekend?” You blushed, not at the question but what it had distracted you from, taking a drag while you composed yourself.

“Not much, just studying, finishing a few papers, the usual.”

“No plans with friends? A boyfriend?” He asked almost shyly, then blushed profusely. “Or girlfriend, or partner… sorry I didn't mean to assume.” You laughed at his embarrassment.

“No, no plans. Friends are all out of town or doing the same as me, and no boyfriend to have plans with.” You weren't sure why you felt like you had to clarify that. It was an instinct more than anything, something in you felt like he should know. “What about you? Any plans?”

“Nope, no plans either. Friends are all married with children, so they don't have weekends anymore. And my brother is out of town with work, so that just about rules out everyone.” Your heart sung at the lack of a girlfriend or wife mentioned, but you somehow managed to control your face. “I got a new jigsaw I might try…” You couldn't help but laugh out loud at that, and he laughed with you. “Sorry, I know thats like the oldest old person thing I could've said…”

“No I just… I was thinking the same thing but didn't want to seem old.” His turn to laugh loudly, a sound that warmed you through.

“You don't have to worry about that…”

“Neither do you.” You had replied quickly, without thinking, and suddenly the air was charged. He was looking you in a way that was unreadable, almost curious but there was something else brewing just under the surface. His eyes were locked onto yours, and you found yourself unable to look away, not letting yourself to be the first to break contact. You weren't sure what it was about today - maybe just because of how shitty you’d felt the last few days, how kind and caring he had been, how many times you’d been in touching distance of him - but you wanted him to know you were an option. Even if it was a bad idea, if it could ruin both of you, if it could destroy everything you'd ever worked towards… you suddenly didn't care. You needed him to know you were here, arms open and waiting, if he ever wanted you.

The car ride was quiet, silence only broken by the occasional attempt at small talk. It was as though the look you had shared earlier had shattered your ability to speak to each other normally, a cloud hanging over the both of you, threatening to pour. Eventually, you pulled up outside your building, and your heart broke that it was over. You had to leave now, to be alone in your flat, to try and relax without thinking about him. His touch, his laugh, his smell.

“Thank you for the lift.” You managed to croak out after sitting silent for a moment, voice laced with disappointment you didn’t have the energy to hide.

“Anytime.” He muttered back, and your hand moved to the door, eyes glazing over at the sight of the raindrops hitting the car window. You weren’t sure why you didn’t just leave, open the door and run inside, out of the rain, out of the tension. Maybe it was the weather, pushing you to take comfort somewhere warm and welcoming. Or maybe it was the scent of sandalwood and cigarettes that clung to the leather surrounding you. Or maybe it was the way your arm was still tingling where he had touched you earlier, his hands warm and expansive and calming. It didn’t really matter though. Regardless of the reason, you still chose to open your damn mouth one more time.

“I don’t want to wait until Monday to see you again.” Your voice was barely a whisper, barely audible, but from the way he muttered your name warningly, he heard. You flushed furiously, feeling so fucking stupid. You’d ruined everything. He was your advisor, your professor, your whole support system felled in one swoop. God, you were an idiot. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’ll go.” You reached for the handle again, tears springing to the corners of your eyes.

“Wait.” His voice was… well, you weren’t sure. It sounded frustrated, sure, but also, there was a desperation in it. A need. He didn’t want you to leave either. “God, I’ve thought about how this might go so many times and never once landed on what I’d want to say.” There was a lump in your throat, and your hands fell back into your lap, turning to see the slightly pained expression on his face, almost pleading. His hair was messy, one hand raking through it as his eyes met yours. “There’s obviously… I mean it’s undeniable the way I… but I just…” He was so nervous, eyes scanning across your face frantically. “I’m your advisor. I’m your Professor. I’m in a position of authority here, its a power imbalance and I’m old enough to…” You had sat calmly listening to him ramble, so grateful that your feeling weren’t unrequited that you didn’t care what other excuses he would try to come up with.

“I don’t care.” He whispered your name again in warning, but softer, and you could see his resolve eroding with every second he was in your presence. “I mean it. You said it yourself, it’s undeniable. And now we’ve addressed it… what’s the harm in trying?” He still looked confused, pain wrought into his features as his eyes locked onto yours. And then, it was like you could see him accept that he couldn’t stop this now. That he didn’t want to. The fear gave way to longing, his hand cupping your jaw in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

“I need you to…” The nerves were still clear in his voice, but his hand was definite, thumb brushing your lips and you leant into the touch, body naturally caving towards his. “Please tell me your want this. I need to be sure.”

“I want this.” You were so firm in your response, so final, he had no choice but to believe you.

He leant in, cupping your face in his hand, touch so strong, so definite, that any residual doubt melted away as his lips touch yours. It was fleeting, unsure, but not a moment before he had pulled away, you pressed back into him. Your kiss was desperate and bruising, hard and needy and full of months of pent up desire. He returned so fervently you sighed into his mouth, relief and arousal washing over your body. His hand moved to grip your hair, keeping you close, and you cursed internally that you were still in the car, centre console blocking your body from his. You were desperate to touch more of him, to feel his skin under your fingers, to run your hands across the ridges of his chest and up his arms. His grip was still strong in your hair, but you broke for air, watching with a smile as his lips chased yours. His evident need spurred you on, hand moving to rest against his chest and grip the pressed fabric of his shirt as you shared the air in the space between you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He muttered half-heartedly, but his blown pupils and subtle smile told you differently.

“Do you want to come upstairs?”

The elevator ride was tense, hand gripped in his, half expecting him to run away, but as soon as your door was open, his lips smashed into yours once more. His hands explored your waist, pressing you to the now closed door, body touching yours slightly. His mouth was saying something different to his body language: lips hungry and needy, body cautious. You were more confident, hands falling to his back and pulling him as close as possible to you. He groaned in response, a low guttural sound that left you panting into his hot mouth. You wanted to gasp his name, but you realised you didn’t know it, embarrassment clouding your mind. You pushed it away immediately, hands snaking round his solid form to his tie, loosening it like a woman starved and throwing it to the side.

“Hey…” he muttered alongside a pant of your name, fingers tracing your face in a tender way, “are you sure you want this?”

“More than anything.” The answer fell from your lips without you even thinking about it. You needed him. He smiled against your lips, hands trailing from your waist to your hips, an invitation. You started to undo his shirt buttons, hands finally coming into contact with his warm skin, hips bucking towards his. A moment of insecurity washed over you. You were young, younger than him by a long way, and while it didn’t bother you, you couldn’t help but wonder if being with someone with so much less experience would bother him. He’d asked for your assurance twice now, and you had just assumed he wanted the same. Maybe he was just here so he didn’t lose his job…

“Is this what you want too?” You whispered, so shy and unsure you could feel the blush spreading across your cheeks.

“More than anything.” His fingers traced your lips, eyes meeting yours, and he must’ve sensed their slightly hesitant nature. “Since the minute you walked into my classroom, I’ve wanted this.” He smiled slightly sheepishly then, eyes flitting down to scan your form. “You were wearing cord flares and a white tee, leather jacket slung over your bag. You looked so confident, so excited to be in my class… you weren’t even looking at me yet, but I saw a glint in your eye that reminded me of myself in my youth. Everything about you intoxicated me from the moment I locked eyes with you. I want this.” The last statement was so final, so raw, you gave in fully. You smiled, looking deep into his eyes to see them unwavering.

“In that case..” you muttered, puling away from his just slightly, pulling your shirt over your head before unbuttoning your jeans, letting them fall to the floor. He stepped back while you were undressing, eyes darkening as they scanned your whole body with desire.

“Fuck…” he muttered the word quietly to himself, continuing to look you up and down in a way that made you blush profusely. He followed suit quickly, slowly undoing the rest of your shirt buttons with a slight smile. You couldn’t help but gaze half-lidded at his bare form, muscles rippling with every deep breath he took. “Where’s your room?”

Your bra and his trousers were long discarded, your bare form pressed to his as he laid above you, hand resting by your head, holding him up as he devoured your mouth. His kisses were getting lower, pressing against your neck and chest as you could do nothing but pant at his every touch.

“Sir, are you…” you didn’t even finish your question, words lost in your tongue as he bit down softly against the pillowy flesh of your breast, a groan escaping his lips against you at the name you had chosen in the heat of the moment.

“Shh..” the soft sound escaped his lips as he continued to move his lips lower until his fingers hooked your pantries, pulling them down slowly, savouring your squirming.

“What are you…” your words were lost yet again as his mouth enveloped your bare pussy, tongue pressing a firm stripe through your folds. You moaned loudly, the sensation enveloping you as you pressed your hips further towards his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction at the movements from you, hands gripping your hips tightly as your thighs surrounded his head. His tongue was expert, circling your clit with perfect precision and you bucked into him again with a whimper, desperate for some direct contact. He chuckled against you, smiling up between your thighs and you could’ve cum there from the sight of him.

“Relax…” he muttered, surly tone immediately forcing your muscles to loosen, pressing into the bed. His tongue flicked across your clit, and you squirmed, pants and whines filling the room as he continued his assault on your sensitive nerves. “Good girl…” his voice rumbled against your cunt, almost pushing you to the edge there and then.

“Please…” was all you could force out, words jumbling in your mind as the pleasure started to take over. One hand released from your hips, and you barely registered as two fingers pushed inside you, thick and deep. You groaned, an animalistic noise drawn from the back of your throat as he hit the spot inside you that made you sing. Every inch of your body was on fire with need as his fingers filled you, tongue continuing its relentless attack on your clit. You were all but an incoherent mess of moans and pants as he kept going, pleasure building and building close to the point of being too much, nerves burning with desire as he feasted on you like a man starved. It didn’t take long for your orgasm to arrive, fast and brutal, blinding you as your thighs squeezed around him, sobs and whines falling from your lips as you rode out the waves on his tongue.

By the time you had caught your breath, his face was an inch from yours, pressing sloppy kisses your jaw and neck. You whimpered softly, feeling the slick he had left between your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his, blinking up at him stupidly.

“I want you…” his lips cut you off, deep and passionate as your words were swallowed by hood’s mouth. He tasted like you.

“You have me. Body and soul.” Your heart leapt at the sentiment, hand brushing through his hair with affection.

“Then fuck me.”

He was pressed against your back, and was impossibly deep inside you, hitting that spot that made your back arch. His hand was tangled in your hair again, lips to your neck as he somehow pressed deeper, and your hand found his thigh, holding him there.

“You feel so good.” You whispered, fucked out and satisfied, already multiple organs in from his perfect cock.

“I’m close baby,” he muttered against your ear, grinding against your ass as you whined for him so beautifully. He fit so perfectly inside you it felt handcrafted, and he groaned softly as he pulled out quickly, slamming back inside as his hips started to stutter. “So pretty, so perfect for me…” his hand reached around to your used clit, pressing gentle circles as you cried out. You would do anything for him, but you were exhausted and overstimulated, a few tears brimming in your eyes at the bliss and pain it provided.

“Please..” you whispered for the uncountable time that night, hips backing into his as he groaned, deep and animalistic. Your orgasm washed over you as he finally came, moaning against your neck as his teeth clamped down carefully.

“So fucking perfect…”

You felt so effortlessly relaxed beside him, sleep encroaching quicker than it ever had. You were exhausted and spent, but happy. Everything you’d wanted for months but refused to admit to yourself had come true, and tomorrow, you’d have to face the reality of it all. But for now, you were at peace, head rested against his chest and feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths. Your slumber had started to take you, eyes fluttering closed, when you heard his voice speak softly, as though trying not to disturb you.

“I hope this moment last forever.” You thought confirming his sentiment would somehow diminish him, or scare him off, pretending your sleep had pulled you under, but your heart swelled in agreement. You never wanted to leave this place.

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #hwang inho #inho x reader #in ho x reader #hwang inho x reader #fanfic #in ho squid game #squid game s2 #squid game #professor au #student x professor #lee byung hun

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violetszone · 8 months ago

Text

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Charles x fem!reader

Summary: You were clubbing with your friend after a massive breakup with your boyfriend. Then find your true love.

A/n:No proofread was made. Lets finally start with ttpd series.

The night started off normally. You were in Monaco with a friend, trying to rediscover yourself and have some fun after a massive breakup with your boyfriend. After getting drunk, your friend left with a guy, leaving you alone on one of the couches at the club.

One of your favorite songs started playing, so you got up and walked to the dance floor. As you danced slowly, you felt a hand on your waist. Looking up, you saw a pair of charming green eyes and smiled, dancing with him.

You don't even remember when you both started kissing and ended up in his hotel room.There were a few things you remembered from the night when you wake up: his kisses, his touches, and your screams of his name.

When you wake up, you sit in bed. Rub your face and sigh as you look at the perfect man lying next to you. Get up slowly walked towards the bathroom with your dress and shoes in your arms.

Charles stirred in his sleep before slowly waking up. As he gradually awoke, he felt your absence and opened his eyes. Looking around the room, he noticed you were no longer next to him. He sat up, groggy, and then heard the shower running, realizing where you were.

As you quietly left the bathroom and tiptoed toward the door, Charles was now fully awake, realizing you were about to leave. He quickly got out of bed, his bare chest exposed, and grabbed his boxers from the floor, hurriedly putting them on. He rushed to the door, but not quickly enough to catch you.

Just as you opened the door, he appeared behind you, grabbing your wrist to stop you. His eyes were filled with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

"Leaving so soon, darling?"

You flinched. "Hey... you're awake?"

He looked at you with a mix of curiosity and hurt, let go of your wrist but blocked the door, preventing you from leaving. "Yeah. I woke up when I couldn't feel you next to me. Where were you going?"

"I-..." You blinked a few times. "I just thought..."

He raised an eyebrow at your stutter, wondering what was going through your mind. His expression softened slightly as he stepped closer.

"Thought what? Were you just going to leave without saying anything?"

"Well, no... not exactly," you mumbled.

He crossed his arms, studying your face. There was a hint of annoyance in his tone, but also a hint of hurt. "Then why were you sneaking out? Why not just wake me up and say goodbye?"

"Because you were sleeping?" you said, biting your tongue.

He scoffed, shaking his head slightly. "So what? Was it really that hard to wake me up? Just a 'Hey, I had fun last night, but I gotta go'? Instead, you tried to sneak out like this was nothing but a one-night stand."

You smiled, finding his words funny. "Hey,

don't get offended, okay..."

He rolled his eyes playfully, trying to hide a smirk. He took another step closer, now only inches away. "Oh, so you find this amusing now, huh? Not offended, my ass, darling."

You couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry."

The sound of your laughter made it impossible for him to stay mad. He chuckled a little, finally letting a smirk form on his face. "You're lucky you're cute. Otherwise, I would've been more upset right now."

"I just thought that you might like to wake up alone, maybe you know. A 26-year-old famous man..."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe with an amused expression. "And why would you think that? Just because I'm a 26-year-old famous man, I can't appreciate a little company? Do I seem that heartless?"

You shook your head. "No, look, I'm sorry. I just came out of a heartbreaking relationship, okay? I couldn't think straight. I'm sorry."

His annoyance quickly faded as he realized what you were dealing with. He sighed softly, and his expression softened. "No, hey, it's okay. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should've asked first before making assumptions. I didn't know you were dealing with something like that."

He held your shoulder gently as you shrugged. "It's fine... you know what? I'm hungry. Let's call room service." You walked back into the room.

He shook his head with a small chuckle, watching you. He closed the door and followed you, sitting down on the couch. "What do you want to eat, sweetheart? My treat." He smiled charmingly.

"A gentleman, I see..." You smiled.

He grabbed the hotel phone next to the bed and dialed the room service number. After placing the order, he hung up and looked back at you.

"Should be here in about fifteen minutes. So, we have some time to kill."

"Yes, I guess," you replied, sitting on the couch.

He couldn't take his eyes off you as you sat there. You looked so beautiful in the morning light, even with messy hair and wrinkled clothes. He walked over and sat down next to you.

"You know, for someone who just got out of a relationship, you sure were eager to go home with a stranger last night. Not the brightest idea, darling."

"I know. It was... just a long relationship that... I really believed he loved me but—" you sighed, "it turns out he didn't."

He listened with a sympathetic expression, his heart aching for you. He gently placed his hand on yours, offering comfort.

"Hey, that's tough. I'm sorry you had to go through that. You didn't deserve that."

You smiled. "It's okay, I am getting used to it. Anyway, you don't have to hear about this."

He gave you a small smile, appreciating your attempt to brush it off. He leaned back, his voice gentle.

"Hey, don't think like that. It's okay to vent sometimes, and I don't mind listening. I can tell it's been weighing on you."

You sighed. "It does... I'm normally not the talker type, more likely to listen. So it's weird for me. I'm a musician, actually. Not that popular, but yeah. I wrote an album about him called 'Lover.' Now I'm writing a new one called 'The Tortured Poets Department.'"

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by your revelation. A songwriter, huh? That explained the creativity and depth behind your words.

"A musician? That's pretty impressive. And writing an album for someone, that's serious dedication. I'm assuming it didn't work out with that guy, considering the album's name?"

"Well, when your lover turns out to be your torturer, it doesn't feel good. So my lover turned into 'The Tortured Poets Department.'" You shrugged and smiled sadly.

He let out a scoff, a mix of disgust and anger welling up inside him as he heard you talk about your ex-boyfriend.

"Damn. He put you through hell, huh? But I gotta say, 'The Tortured Poets Department' is a pretty badass title for an album. I'm assuming you're channeling all your anger and pain into these songs."

You smiled. "Thanks. Would you like to read one of the songs?"

He looked at you, intrigued by your offer. He nodded with a smile and leaned back on the couch, getting comfortable.

"Sure, I'd love to read one of your songs. Bring it on."

You walked towards your handbag, took out a notebook, and opened a page. "This song is called 'My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys.'"

He watched you, eyebrows raised in interest as you mentioned the name of the song.

"'My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys,' huh? Sounds intense. Let me see."

You handed him the notebook. He began reading through the lyrics, a mix of curiosity and admiration on his face. He scanned the page, taking in each word and phrase. The lyrics were raw, emotional, and filled with a sense of pain and resilience. It was clear you had poured your heart and soul into this song.

"Wow, this is beautiful. It's like you're pouring your soul right onto the page. I can feel the pain and anger in your words."

"Thanks. I'm glad you liked it. Actually, you're the first one to read it." You said shyly

He looked up at you, a smile on his face. He was honored that you trusted him enough to share your song with him

"I'm flattered, I feel privileged. You should be proud of your work, darling. It's powerful and sincere. Not many people can make music like this."

You smiled at him "Thanks...really" he held your hand tightly "i would really like to see more." You looked up to his eyes nodded your head.

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ncis-nerd · 10 months ago

Text

But Daddy I Love Him

ship: older!natasha romanoff x younger!reader. wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, mentions of cheating, older nat, jerk nat, younger reader, wanda is kinda a dick, age gap, arguing, being ignored.

a/n: happy ttpd day!!

"I'm done with being your second choice Natasha. Just because I am younger than you, it doesn't mean you can just go off with other women because you're scared to admit that they are what you are looking for. Someone older, more mature, someone you can relate to" Y/N exclaimed, her small frame against the older women's.

Her green eyes met y/n's gaze which only confirmed what y/n feared. "That's it? You aren't going to say anything?" Y/N spokes as she grabbed a suitcase from the closet.

"I'm so sick of Wanda! Don't think I didn't see all the ways she touched you. Her hands always on you whenever the two of you were together. I'll tell you this Natasha. I'd rather burn my whole life down, Than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin'" Y/N threw her arms up in protest and huffed.

"Where are you gonna go." Natasha spoke dismmisingly. She doesn't think you'll actually do it. You have no where to go, no one to go to. Her eyes watering at the slight chance that you may be serious.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Natasha had an award dinner and she asked you last minute to come. It was odd she didn't ask you earlier in advance because they usually know about these things at least 6 months in advance with scheduling and whatnot. But you didn't think much of it. Because you didn't want to accept the alternative.

You came as her date but it sure didn't feel like it. You were the youngest there, all the avengers were at least 10 years ahead of you. It didn't help that your girlfriend left you to fend for yourself, your eyes stuck on her and Wanda. Natasha threw her head back, laughing. Wanda's hand on her shoulder. Their prolonging eye contact. The way they looked at each other. It gave you a bad feeling in your gut but you pushed it away.

No, I'm not coming to my senses. I know it's crazy. But he's the one I want.

You refused to accept it. She said she'd never let it come between you guys. That your age difference would never break you up. She lied. You rose up from the table but no one even noticed, everyone engrossed in their conversation. A stray tear fell from your glassy eyes.

You made your way to the bathroom. Attempting to keep your composure, they already think you're immature, you don't want them to see you as a baby on top on that.

You looked at yourself in the large glass window. You looked at your reflection. Your dress glistened in the light. The door swings open. It's Wanda. Of course she was the one who noticed you missing. Ironic isn't it.

"Y/N" she spoke, her voice filled with fake concern but a hint of guilt. You refused to meet her eyes, not willing to give her that sense of comfort. "Y/N, I'm not going to lie to you just because you're younger than us. I like Natasha. And honestly it feels like she is into me too. There's nothing I can say to make you feel better but I assure you I would never make a move on her while the two of you are together. I promise." Her eyes met yours in the mirror.

"I have money, I know you don't have anywhere to go but if you and Natasha should split, please call me. I don't want to on your own, fending for yourself. I can help you get an apartment or something." Wanda offered.

I just learned these people try and save you'. Cause they hate you

Of course, of course she wants to "take care of you". Because you're the little fragile thing who can't handle heartbreak. She just wants to make a move on Natasha, this is a ton of bullshit. You press your nails into your hand. You smile politely and say a simple thank you. Not wanting to cause a scene and give Natasha more of a reason to leave you.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me. And counteract the chemistry. And undo the destiny.

Her hand reaches for my shoulder, to stop me from leaving. "That won't work anymore, Natasha. I'm calling Wanda. She offered to help me get an apartment." You spewed out, reaching for the door. It hurt. You no longer called her Natty, the sweet nickname you had gave her when your relationship was in an earlier stage. A simpler stage where you didn't have to question if she wanted to be with you.

You slammed the door behind you, goodbye Natasha.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

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francesderwent · 3 days ago

Note

“decrying the manipulative cowardice of cohabitation” I would love to hear more of this take on TTPD if you’re willing

boy am I willing!

I am going to start with You’re Losing Me, because I think it’s a crucial prologue to the album. You’re Losing Me is about a relationship that’s dying, because the partner she’s singing to is stuck in inactivity. she begs, “do something, babe, say something. lose something, babe, risk something. choose something, babe, I’ve got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me.” we’re in new territory, for Taylor. she sings, “now I just sit in the dark, and wonder if it’s time.” he isn’t leaving (Forever & Always), and he’s not doing something so awful that she has to leave (The Moment I Knew). he is staying—which for so long has been the hallmark of a happy ending in her music (Stay Stay Stay, All You Had To Do Was Stay, New Year’s Day, The Archer)! but he won’t make some decisive move, won’t risk something, won’t choose her. but he is with her, so what is that choice?

and the thing about TTPD is, when she’s speaking directly about that relationship, she doesn’t exactly just tell us. So Long London is more about what the collapse of the relationship felt like for her than a story of how it collapsed—she felt like he wasn’t giving himself to the relationship, she felt like she was putting in all the work, she felt like her sadness wasn’t taken seriously, she felt unsure of whether he even wanted to be with her. and she throws in there amidst all of this: “I’m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free” and “you swore that you loved me but where were the clues, I died on the altar waiting for the proof.” they were together for a long time, but still she’s waiting for something—still she felt like she was taken advantage of when that something didn’t come. the altar line is the clearest hint—along with “my beloved ghost and me sitting in a tree D-Y-I-N-G” in How Did It End—what was missing was marriage. she felt left at the altar. the relationship that should have followed the traditional trajectory of “first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage” stalled out after love.

don’t get me wrong, I think she totally captures the feeling of slow despair when your partner won’t commit—but she doesn’t come out and say “you liar, when I fell in love with you, you told me we would get married and have a family, but you never followed through”. on the face of it, she barely focuses on this relationship at all—at first glance only the track 5s are obviously about the long-term live-in partner. instead, she presents us with a twist: not an album about the six year relationship which ended out of nowhere, but an album seemingly mostly about a rebound that only lasted a few weeks.

but the rebound doesn’t leave the theme of marriage behind! no! in fact, marriage comes to the forefront right away in the title track: “at dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on, and that’s the closest I’ve come to my heart exploding.” and again in Fresh Out the Slammer: “ain’t no way I’m gonna screw up now that I know what’s at stake here at the park where we used to sit on children’s swings, wearing imaginary rings.” so despite everything that she knows from the get-go is wrong with this guy (“you’re in self-sabotage mode, throwing spikes down on the road”, “all your indecent exposures”, “I know he’s crazy”, “the jokes that he told across the bar were revolting and far too loud”) it’s evident to me why this is the one she wants—because this guy says, clearly, that he is willing to give her what her last partner would not. marriage isn’t the unspoken wound that’s made the relationship bleed out—it’s out in the open! this guy is making moves! and so the story of how the live-in partnership fell apart starts to come together: she was lured away by the rebound guy, someone she had a former acquaintance with but who’s appeared again in her life at a decisive moment (see: Fortnight & Guilty as Sin) precisely because here was a way to actually have the happy ending that she thought she was promised in her old relationship. “it’s gonna be alright, I did my time”!

but of course, that’s not what happens. just as quickly as the rebound guy swept into her life and promised to fix everything, he disappears without a word. Down Bad paints the picture starkly: their love affair was so quick and so dramatic that she feels like she was abducted by aliens and then dropped back at home with a story no one seems to believe—but it was real, he did say all those things, she was in love. until finally, in The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived, she has to admit: whatever he was after, whatever his motivations were, it wasn’t love. he used her.

why is this important, when we’re talking about cohabitation and not rebounds or hookups? let’s turn to loml. loml tells the story of a relationship which from the beginning seemed like it was heading straight from the first kiss to marriage, but which turns out to be not what she thought it was—“a con-man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme”. perhaps the most telling line on the whole album, “you shit-talked me under the table, talking rings and talking cradles”, tells us: in private where no one could see, he made her all these promises. but she can see now that he didn’t mean them, that although she’s mourning the loss of their love, what she’s mourning wasn’t even real: “something counterfeit is dead”. who is this song about? lines like “in your suit and tie” “you low-down boy” “you holy ghost” “told me I reformed you” and “Mr. Steal Your Girl and make her cry” seem to point to the rebound—but lines like “you stand-up guy” “you cinephile in black and white” and “all those plot twists” seem to be references to the partner. and the closer you look, the blurrier it gets. “you holy ghost” applies to both of them—one ghosted her by disappearing, but the other became a ghost in their home. “told me I reformed you” sounds like I Can Fix Him—but her relationship with the partner started in an album that opened with “knew he was a killer first time that I saw him”. the rebound stole her from her partner, making him Mr Steal Your Girl, but the partner did the same thing back in the day. “something counterfeit” could be pointing to “was any of it true” in Smallest Man—or it could be pointing to “your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in”. the more you know the lore, the more you have all her old lyrics memorized, the more references you see. Taylor has always been famous for calling her boyfriends out publicly, but this time, she didn’t hide any identifying clues for us to unearth. she blurred the details, she painted everybody with the same brush. loml is about both of them. they both told her they were heading towards marriage and kids—and they both disappeared on her.

and once you start to see the parallels, they start popping up all over the album. the title track is about the rebound—but it says “I’ve seen this episode and still loved the show”, hinting that everything with him feels familiar for some reason, and her plea “who's gonna hold you like me? who’s gonna know you like me?” echoes her triumphant statement to her partner in ME!: “I promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me”. My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys tells the same story as loml of the man who gave you all kinds of attention at the beginning and then when he saw forever coming, smashed it up—“I’m queen of sandcastles he destroys” parallels both “once your queen had come you’d treat her like an also-ran” in Smallest Man and “salute to me, I’m your American queen” in King of My Heart. “but you should have seen him when he first got me” is the thesis of practically every song she wrote about her partner from evermore to Midnights, when she had to go back to the beginning of the relationship to find something romantic to sing about. Down Bad is the same story again, of singling her out and making her feel special, and then abandoning her. Fresh Out the Slammer parallels High Infidelity, which had her current partner cast in the part of the one she was running home to, the one who brought her back to life. “we’ve already done it in my head” in Guilty as Sin is the sinister reprise of “in the middle of the night in my dreams, you should see the things we do, baby” in Ready For It. is The Albatross about the public outcry in But Daddy I Love Him, or is it about “here’s to my baby, he ain’t reading what they call me lately” in This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things? in Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus, who is she talking about when she says it would haunt her to know their love was real? Peter weaves the two stories into each other: both men met her when they were twenty-five—one said he wasn’t ready for a relationship but maybe they’d connect again later, the other said he was ready for a relationship but he wasn’t ready to get married. “we said it was just goodbye for now, you said you were gonna grow up then you were gonna come find me”. but all those promises, from both of them, from every guy she’s ever dated, were never ever kept.

in the album liner notes, she sums it all up: “and so I was out of the oven and into the microwave”. both men did exactly the same thing—the only difference is one did it slow, over six years, and one did it fast.

that’s a really powerful, and a really unexpected statement. think about it. most people in our society don’t really believe that marriage is until death do us part; they believe in the possibility of divorce, they believe that marriage is until one or both parties call it quits. therefore, marriage is essentially no different from living together: both are committed, but not unbreakably vowed. so the death of Taylor’s six-year cohabiting relationship is, for many people, the death of the most serious kind of relationship there is. and instead of delivering the “mature adult breakup” party line of “sometimes things are good and right for a season of life, but they just don’t work out”, what the album says is “what you did is exactly the same as if you’d fed me a few pretty lines to get me into bed then stopped answering my texts”. living with someone without proposing marriage to them EQUALS love-bombing them then ghosting. one lasts a lot longer, but it’s still just manipulation and use. she has to ask herself about both of them what it was they really wanted—“were you writing a book, were you a sleeper-cell spy?” about the rebound, and “was it hazing for a cruel fraternity I pledged and I still mean it? were you making fun of me with some esoteric joke?” about the partner—because they clearly did not want her.

I think in the end what she saw was that it’s not about timing, it’s not about fate, it’s not about anything other than whether the man has the courage to make a commitment. she says in loml “the coward claimed he was a lion”, and in The Black Dog “you said I needed a brave man, then proceeded to play him until I believed it too”—these men pretended like they were brave enough to get married, but then “there was danger in the heat of my touch, he saw forever so he smashed it up”. he gets scared and gives up; he’s “lost to the lost boys’ chapter of life”. all that courage was false bravado. “tail between your legs, you’re leaving”. by the end of the album, she has lost all patience and respect for these blokes who warm the benches on the fields of love.

I really do believe that the album she gave us is more sophisticated than if she had simply written a callout of her partner in the style of Smallest Man or Should’ve Said No. she can give detailed accounts of individual sins all day long, but by looking at the big picture and drawing equivalencies, what we get isn’t an accusation so much as it is the development of an ethics.

I mean, come on. that’s cool.

#asks #this is me admitting I need a music tag #I’m really curious to see what the next album is like #because I think you just have to look at her to know that something!! has CHANGED for her #but also on paper she is in the exact same situation #I’ve said it before I’ll say it again: cohabitation is Schrödinger’s commitment #in the box it is both real and false until the box opens—ie you either getting a proposal or a breakup #and I hope this time she opens the box and finds a ring!!!#but it’s the same fricking box!!!!!!!!#so what feels so different now?#IS it different now?#will this batch of love songs sound drastically different than the ones on reputation and lover?#or will what was true in those be the same as what is true in this experience?#anyway I’ve been writing this post for over twenty-four hours now so I’m going to call it #this is enough

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anonymityisfunwriter · 9 months ago

Note

Here me out. Grumpy!Bucky x Sunshine!Reader but based on Down Bad from Taylor's new album. I feel like there would be such an interesting story!

Down Bad

"I might just not get up, I might just stay down bad..."

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary - You were down bad for Bucky Barnes. You had a cosmic love with Bucky Barnes. But when you woke, you woke in blood, naked and alone, still you might just stay down bad. A.N. - How many fics do you think I've written since TTPD came out?

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Inspired by Taylor Swift Series

Alright, hear me out...

BAMF!SHIELDAgent!Reader x Bucky.

Together, you were the definition of a power couple. There was no one better, no higher peak. Practically untouchable. You set the standard.

And now, you wish you could un-recall how you almost had it all.

Because it was over.

He sent hurtling back down to Earth without a second thought.

And you couldn't lie, you hit the pavement hard.

You were down bad. Worse than you could ever imagined. Most days, you debated on not getting back up, but you knew that wasn't really an option.

Not when people looked to you, watching and waiting. It was like you lost your twin. And while you mourned losing your other half, you felt naked and alone. Watched by all, consoled by none.

The sick part was that you never wanted this. You never asked to be thrown into the orbit of Bucky Barnes. You never wanted him to tell you that you were special, never wanted him to tell you were the chosen one. You didn't want him to show you that the world was so much bigger than the confines of your life. You never wanted him to make you feel safe in his arms.

So how dare he think it was romantic to leave you safe and stranded?

Some days, you stared at the sky and quietly pleaded for him to come get you.

You never wanted to need him. You never wanted any of it. You were perfectly fine on your own.

But you can't deny, you really loved his hostile takeover.

And just as easily, he left you all alone.

All alone trapped inside a person you no longer recognized.

This wasn't you. You were strong. Independent. You were the standard. You were the pinnacle. Not the person who burst into tears at the gym. You weren't the person who slammed on the emergency stop button because sobs wracked through your entire body.

But as you stood in the center of the training room, all eyes on you, there's no denying how he made a mess of you.

It was Wanda that pulled you into the locker room away from prying eyes. You furiously wipe away your tears, staring up at the ceiling - both to keep the tears at bay and to beg him to beam you up to that cloud of sparkling dust once more.

"Are you sure you're okay for this?" Wanda asks, she rests an easy hand on your back.

You roll your shoulders back, steeling yourself, "I've got this."

"You just - you haven't exactly been yourself lately. I'm worried about you."

"Just because I'm single?" You feel the tears welling in your eyes again. "Because I was so fucking down bad for him."

"Don't say that."

You've lost count of the amount of times you've cried this week, but you impatiently groan at yourself as you feel hot, stinging tears slip down your cheeks again. "I can't believe I'm actually crying."

"You're hurting. It's okay not to be a bad ass every second of the day."

"Fuck," you whimper, your head falling onto Wanda's shoulder. "I was so in love with him."

"I know, I know," she coos, stroking the back of your head. "He's not doing any better - if that makes you feel any better."

It doesn't make you feel better. The thought of him hurting nearly as much as you were only made it hurt more. It only made you ache for him more. You would either go down with the ship you built with him or burn as he held the matches.

You shake your head, pulling away from her. You rake your hands through your hair, then harshly rub your hand over your face. "Let's just get this over with."

"Are you sure?"

"It would make no difference if I was sure. Fuck it if I can't have him."

You really, truly can't believe you were this stupid. You can't believe you allowed yourself to get lost in his opal eyes. Never in a million years would you have wanted this.

To involve yourself with someone so irrevocably intertwined with your life. Because now, now, you had to listen to the stranger that knew every inch of your mind, body, and soul give you orders and directives on dangerous, life threatening missions.

Mere minutes after a full breakdown in the training room, you had to stand before him in the conference room all alone and listen to him talk like nothing happened.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" he asks, concern shining in his familiar blue eyes.

You roll your eyes, snorting, "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not. I'm just checking on you."

"Well, that's not your job anymore," you spit. "How about we focus on our actual job?"

"Fine." His spine stiffens, his jaw ticking as he speaks through clenched teeth, "Are we clear on the plan?"

The words leave your mouth without a second thought, "Would it matter if we weren't?"

"I thought we were going to be mature about this," Bucky's voice comes out low, so similar to the quiet rumble of his voice first thing in the morning.

You scoop up your share of your files and turn on your heels without another word. Without thinking, he reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

The weight of his familiar touch is a shock to your system.

You know the mature thing to do. You should apologize. You should carry yourself with grace. You should set boundaries. You should hold your head high.

But lately, everything comes out with a teenage petulance. So fuck him. Fuck him for breaking your heart. Fuck him for taking away the love of your life. And fuck him for being the loss of your life.

You wrench your shoulder out of his grip. "Fuck you."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist Inspired by Taylor Swift Series

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky @roseproseposts @theoraekenslover @king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24

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theafterglow83 · 10 months ago

Text

Stray thoughts from an unhinged mind caused by a song called Robin

Since my teens, I have always been a Karlie Kloss fan. No amount of vitriol from the Swifty’s has ever strayed or strained my conviction that Karlie is on many levels, and aside from being absolutely gorgeous, a better human being than Taylor Swift.

By that I mean she seems to project a warmth and a level of kindness and humanity out into the world that is so pure and honest, when compared to Taylors, sometimes vengeful and darker persona ~as well as her being Queen Mother to one of the worlds most vindictive and exhausting cults who would gladly fillet anyone at “Mother’s “ request. Taylor (the brand) has made a career and a fortune from feeding her tales of romantic misfortune and presumed ex lovers to her hungry mob with merchandise to match.

Karlie on the other hand has a nurturing and supportive side to her and don’t let her beautiful and seductive exterior fool you for below that sultry surface she gives off a warm and fuzzy golden vibe- like a puppy. She’s sophisticated, highly intelligent, NYC chic and street smart , often silly and maturing like fine wine while somehow becoming more beautiful as she ages. She also appears to be one Hell of a good mother to those babies.

All that being said about their personalities is exactly why I believe Karlie’s sunshine is the perfect match for Taylor and her moody, broken, impulsive ,often over indulgent, midnight rain personality. Not only are they equal in status - they have a Yin Yang balance to them - Only that sunshine can dry up the rain in Taylor .

I’ll continue.

While listening to songs off of the TTPD I was stopped dead in my tracks when I came to the song, Robin. I listened three times and found a tear rolling down my right cheek. I was choked up and the tiny hairs on my arms stood up . To say I was moved would be an understatement. There was something so raw, so pure and so loving in those lyrics. I had to sit with my thoughts for a while but I feel the need to share them now among those who i consider “my people”.

The Kaylors.

Sidebar confession: Yes, I’m a Kaylor.

I firmly believe Taylor Swift, and Karlie Kloss had a long running romantic relationship. They were more than friends. They were lovers too. The level of denial it takes to doubt that is astonishing. It wasn’t just Kissgate that sealed the deal. It’s the way those two looked at each other and communicated in a secret language all their own. They were deeply in love.

I believe it all started prior to the public meet up at the VS Fashion Show and even long before the “your kitchen or mine cookie “tweet.

I believe Taylor and Karlie first met when Taylor was showing up at fashion shows that Karlie was walking in as far back as 2009. Where they had a relationship then? Probably not because they were both involved with others but the sparks were flying. Thats when the foundation was laid. The attraction was there. The seeds planted. Destiny and the Universe did the rest.

Think Love Story lyrics

“We were both young when I first saw you” which I believe Taylor wrote about Karlie and which also happens to be Karlies favorite song. I believe they had an ongoing relationship that continued on until late 2017-early 2018 and then I believe something happened and they broke up, as many long-term relationships often do. My guts tell me it was cheating and it was on Taylor’s part and the regret from that will haunt Taylor for her entire life because it caused the trajectory of their path to change.

Karlie married in 2018 yet many speculate they were still together and the unofficial story is the real trouble actually came in mid 2019.

Taylor was furious over the masters, fingers were pointing everywhere, cheating rumors flew. This entire story certainly has all the drama of a Netflix series that could easily do 8 seasons

There’s so much more to this Masters incident than the public is aware of. Also the fact that Josh’s families company ~ the Carlisle Group provided the funding to Scooter is an often overlooked storyline.

Was Taylor angry at Karlie for that but how could Karlie control that if she was even in that loop of that drama. Or~ was there more -because in any good mystery - there’s always several layers more .

What did Scooter have to leverage getting that kind of money from them to buy the masters? Being Karlie’s manager at the time perhaps he has something on her or Taylor or both of them and used it as that leverage . It’s a whole other rabbit hole that I don’t have time to visit right now but regardless Taylor is still angry about to this very day which tells me it goes way deeper and my gut feeling is that Taylor’s dad was the one involved with knowing things and not Karlie Kloss who got fed to the sharks over the situation.

So I’m going on record here saying I never believed Karlie had anything to do with Masters Heist. I believe that story was used as an explanation to explain their separation. I know there’s a whole other level of messy lore involving this and a love blackout and Trumps election and Karlie’s association with the Kushner’s but I’m going to skip over that season and move on -except to say that it was absolutely shameful the level of hate Karlie was forced to endure because of that and still her sun shinned while she was being made the villain online and much of it still continues to this day. At any point during that scandal Karlie could have spoken out but she didn’t. She quietly took one for the team.

I’m not going to pretend that I know what happened during that murky period or what is happening now - because honestly -I do not…but there have been a strange set clues and way too many “koincidences to simply chalk up to being coincidences.

It’s just a gut feeling but I also don’t believe their connection went fully went away or ever will for that matter. They are and will forever be tied together even in the times they are apart but I kinda think they reunited ( again) in early to mid 2020.

I’ve read all the theories. I’ve heard all the rumors ,I’ve been to the rabbit hole, I’ve climbed out, I’ve fallen back in, and most days now you’ll find me sitting on the edge dangling my feet still and kinda wondering. I live my life ~ they live theirs.

So am I a LSK?

No, not really, but some days …ok, maybe. You see for as much as I try to say no…there’s just this tiny string I can’t help but see so I keep my feet planted on the ground but my mind open.

By open I mean open to the possibility that Taylor and Karlie are in one of those kind of “relationships” where as hard as they try ~they just can’t seem to quit each other and they go through periods of on and off times. “pauses” is what I like to call the brakes or bumps along the way. You know that couple that’s over but they’re never really over ?

Where are they now? I have no idea.

Taylor has another year of touring and promoting and probably Travis. My money says Taylor Swift will be the halftime show at next years Super Bowl.

Karlie, along with her modeling contacts ( Carolina Herrera, Estée Lauder, Donna Karen etc ) is venturing into the business world. Along with running Kode with Klossy, she’s CEO of her newly formed media company. She bought I-D magazine and also Life magazine, which Josh also invested in , this year. She’s got a lot on her plate

Yes, Karlie is married but is she really married in the traditional sense of what we all consider marriage to be? On the surface, yes… but once again- the layers and the lore here is incredible.

What a character she’d be on that Netflix show I imagine in my head . Just give her an Emmy already.

Does she love Josh? I’m absolutely sure she does- but the real question is…is she IN love with Josh? You know- romantic love -which, I as an observer ~don’t believe she is or ever has been. You can just kinda tell and no matter how many pictures she posts the connection just isn’t there and whenever I see her with her beautiful babies (even if he’s in the photo) she gives off that “ single mother vibe “

That level of chemistry, no matter how the pictures are posed~ or the hand in hand walks are staged -the passion ~ the look in their eyes - it just isn’t there and honestly it never was.

They have always given off that bff energy and frankly ~ Karlie’s friendship with her “big brother “ Derek actually feels more real, relaxed and genuine.Then there are the gay rumors ( past and present) surrounding their entire little multiverse ~but we won’t go into them right now either. We’d be here all night.

And yes, Taylor has had her share of public relationships but have they been real? Have they had their moments? probably. Did some become more than PR for a brief period of time. Possibly She’s been linked to everyone she even walks by or talks to but somehow it all pales and fades in time. I’m sure there have been flings along the way but flings don’t fly and usually run their course in that 9 1/2 week period that flings seem to take.

If I’m being honest, as I observe from the treetops all of Taylor’s relationships and Karlies relationship with Josh, they never reach the level of the real connection and happiness that I saw between Taylor and Karlie. That’s something you just can’t fake or reproduce with another .

Whatever is going on with Travis is so cringey and sadly embarrassing.I tend to think it’s PR but if it’s real then he truly is her obnoxious karma and karma isn’t usually a good thing. But hey the moneys good. Maybe they’ll even get lavender married so she can stay in her closet and continue to throw red meat to the $wifties.

The future is yet unwritten.

All that being said, I’ll get back to my original point of this ramble and that’s a song called Robin.

So yes, I’ve heard the rumors, I’ve read the theories, I’ve seen photographs of visual evidence. Karlie Kloss was in Los Angeles during the pandemic, the same place where Taylor was in fort part of 2020. When she returned to NYC if you count the months - she was pregnant even if she didn’t look it. I also believe Karlie was there in the shadows during the Long Pond Studio recordings in Upstate NY. Jack kind of gave it away when he referenced “Joe the dog” as being who he thought Taylor was talking about when she said “ Joe and I wrote a song”

I’ve also heard the rumor that there was a ceremony between them that they tried to pass off as a ceremony between Taylor and Joe which Tree later denied that there was ever a ceremony of “any type”.

Ok buckle up because here it comes

I’ve seen the “turkey baster”( IVF ) post that Karlie made. Like who uses a turkey baster in May? What an odd thing to do unless you were signaling an IVF pregnancy situation. Regardless ~ she was extremely happy that day.

I’ve seen the cinnamon buns post ( think the expression “buns in the oven ) that Taylor made a few days later back in May 2020. She was “proud” of her cinnamon buns.

Happy & proud …hum

Is that a crazy set of coincidences? Hand on whatever holy book you set before me ~ I’d have to say “yes”

And it’s Absolutely crazy considering the fact that Levi was born a little over nine months later.

Add in the fact of how emotional Taylor got accepting her Grammy for Folklore when Arron thanked his “ wife and kids “during the acceptance speech.

For a few moments there you could feel the raw emotion in her as she nearly burst into tears andJack tried to console her. Blonde was gutted. It cut deep.

Sidebar:

Yes Aaron has a son named Robin but he’s 9 years old and other than the name cleverly used for gentle cover of the truth in case damage control is ever needed~ there is no connection to that child or a secret, no showmanship to cover it up or anything that would make Taylor react as she did. Other than his name there is no connection to the words in the song

But the fact that Levi’s birth was announced during the Grammys absolutely does connect.

So I’ll just put a pin in that and move on.

Listening to that ballad yesterday rocked my entire world . It was so soft, gentle and living. So heart wrenching that I just let my emotions flow through me as my mind wandered back gathering and processing all the previous rumors and lore I had heard along the way. It left me rattled as it tumbled through memories. Could it all have been true?

So now I’m just gonna say it out loud running the risk of being attacked and also sounding like a supermarket tabloid…here goes “could Levi be Karlie’s and Taylor’s child?”

I know it sounds crazy…secret love child but …

I’m not trying to out anyone and I want to respect the fact that a child is involved here. Honestly I had second and third thoughts about posting this but if I’m being real ~ it’s also a collective of things that have been shared openly about Taylor and Karlie here for years. Somehow the song was like a puzzle piece that snapped into place.

…those loving words ,the emotion in Taylor‘s voice as she sings about her strong heartfelt attachment to a young toddler, as she encourages him in being wild and free in his wonder years, playing with abandon and roaring at the dinosaurs~

There was real love in those words

Looking out his window over his kingdom (NYC) and speaking gibberish

She also advocates for him keeping his innocence for as long as possible and then speaks of a secret that a inner circle of people have chosen to keep from him” in sweetness” to protect him and the “showmanship” to cover up that secret that he has no idea of.

And as she watches his unabashed play in his toddler purity she prophesies there will come a time in the future when the world he faces will have harsh words for him and she reminds him that he will bounce back like he now does on his trampoline.

“ and you have no idea

Buried down deep and out of your reach

the secret we all vowed

to keep it from you in sweetness

strings tied to levers

slowed down clocks tethers

all the showman ship

to keep it from you in sweetness

way to go, tiger

I’m not crying , you are and Levi looks just like his mommy 🤍

Let’s keep this in the family ✌️🤍🏳️‍🌈

God I love this show .

Stay tuned for next season

#karlie kloss #taylor swift #kaylor

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unbotheredalwyn · 10 months ago

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So obviously after the Joe breakup shit changed we had that ratty twatty and then suddenly travis. Like ratty twatty first of all made it seem like you know this person is like horrible yet you choose to be with him? Everyone called her (rightfully) out I feel like cause he is really a twat of a person and the whole ice spice collab to basically "save" Matty twattys image. I also felt like it was unfair of her fans to force her to break up with him I mean it's her life. And Joe during this time went through so much shit after the break up I remember he was papped and everyone made fun of how skinny he is and how horrible he looks (he had bags under his eyes on the photo) which is actually sad cause he lost his grandmother I think during that time and people were genuinely saying disgusting things and saying mother is looking so much better etc etc while Joe was having a downwards spiral. Again I understand no one knew his depression was that bad but fuck swifties can be more kind.

Exit ratty twatty enter travesty lord this man gives me the ick.

Swifties are blinded by their relationship but he is really not a good dude. I mean that video live of him pushing his coach and yelling? Videos online of him being openly racist, being a trump supporter (and also swifties are dumb they think bc he got vaccinated and bent the knee for black lives matter he is somehow Democrat?) honey trump is vaccinated as well. And just because he supported blm does not make him a good person. He was PAID to do all that performative shit.

I mean she has millions of fans, thousands of young girls thinking the blatant red flags of travesty is hot and shit. Tells me he can push her around too. (not to mention he supported his abusive friend that literally hit his wife.)

And it feels like she's forcing travesty tbh? Like girlie you wanted the art to be about you yet you let some man overshadow it. Because truly that's what's happening like swifties are more into him at this point and the relationship they made up in their head as Taylor.

This is where I got annoyed and took a step back. Each time they were seen Joe got thousands and thousands of hate just for what being introverted?

Then they attacked Emma (Joe's Co worker) for a cheating rumor THEY MADE UP and the shit they said were so genuinely disgusting she had to switch off her comments.

Then Ai audio dropped about Joe abusing Taylor and Ai videos circled making it seem like Joe is a cheater when he is NOT. fuck they even trended a sex scene with that Alison chick he worked with saying he said Alison (her real name) and not her character's name when he DID NOT. It was in the fucking series! This woman got slut shamed so bad she turned off comments too for literally WORKING with Joe. Swifties literally spread shit around that he cheated on Taylor with Emma and Alison when he didn't! And the fucking best of all Taylor was on the set while filming conversations with friends. She most likely saw it IN PERSON and they chose to say all this genuinely disgusting shit about Alison who I've learned is actually a pretty good person.

Here I got genuinely disgusted.

So okay again I understand that Taylor can't control all her fans but her silence while her cult mass harrases people?

Whats insane to me is Joe. Like the guy got so much hate because SHE CHOSE to lead fans on. When she announced ttpd everyone thought the title relates to Joe and Paul mescal

Joe got mass hate

Then the secret songs at eras being about cheating

Joe got death threats

ALL TO BE AN ALBUM ABOUT THE FUCKING SEWER RAT SHE CAN'T GET OVER?!

she literally took ALL the hate against Joe *knowing* she's releasing an album dissing her 6 weeks situationship is genuinely disgusting. I cannot fathom it.

And AND the only thing she could say about Joe is dude did not want to marry her bc he was severely depressed WHICH IS NOT HER PLACE TO TALK ABOUT HIS STRUGGLES?

like I am SORRY this man wants to d word next to her and she just didn't care and wanted to fuck Matty?

Her partner, that got her through her darkest times BTW, did not deserve this.

She let all this mass harrasment just happen to market ttpd. Like genuinely what the actual fuck. 2 innocent women Emma and Alison were attacked and called sluts for genuinely existing and breathing the same air as Joe. And the proof he did not cheat is in her OWN lyrics. (which swifties cannot seem to fucking read bc they'd rather attack Joe than admit this album is about a sewer nazi rat)

The hate Joe got made me cry. The disgusting things they said about him. Swifties literally threatening to bash his head in with a hammer or that he needs to hang himself and they'd enjoy seeing his body swinging from the roof.

Genuinely why would any person say this to anyone at any time?

And they made fun of depression like. What. The. Fuck. Just because Joe might not see it does not mean other people with crippling depression won't.

Oh and a side note she's still bringing up Kim on albums? Not just Kim Kim's CHILD?! leave the kid alone.

Genuinely feel like the most honest Taylor we got was during lover (a time which Joe helped her voice her political opinions and shit) and idk I just feel cheated on?

My whole life I've defended Taylor against everyone and I genuinely feel like she's showing her true colors now being with travesty and ratty and I cannot fathom how this is the same Taylor I'm seeing now as she was like a few years ago.

And it's not just Joe that got death threats BTW. When midnights came out and everyone gave honest reviews cause that evil Jack antonof little gay man ruined the production there were journalists literally getting so much death threats its insane.

Taylor gets (rightfully) called out and fans can't handle it.

She needs to address them ASAP. All these parasocial freaks. The people harrasing Joe. The people literally only seeing Taylor as a breeder for travestys children.

I can't genuinely I can't this is not how I want to feel about Taylor I mean I gave her my youth I looked up to her so much I feel so disappointed in the way she's acting yk?

Yes maybe she can't do jack shit about swifties but she can try.

And her staying quiet over Palestine? Her voice her one post about a ceasefire could change EVERYTHING.

idk at this point I can't stand to be around Taylor.

#anti taylor swift #free joe alwyn #joe alwyn #Swifties dni #anti travis kelce

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 10 months ago

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Down Bad - A Joel Miller Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 800 Summary: You get ghosted after a one night stand with your handsome neighbor. Warnings: Drinking, smut remembrance, angst. A/N: Happy Tortured Poets Department release day! Thank you to @beskarandblasters for the amazing Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge AGAIN. I previously wrote Paper Rings for it. TBH, I stayed up until 3:30 AM listening to TTPD last night with @ohheypedrito and your girl is STRUGGLING TODAY, but well worth it. What an album.

Masterlist

One night out with your friends, one shared glance, one half smile, one opportunity, one drink bought, one phone number drunkenly tapped into his phone.

One date, one heated make out session in his truck, one moment of being heaven struck, one naked body left alone in your bed as he quietly leaves without a word.

One text telling him you had a good time, one week since you’ve heard from him, countless hours of yearning for your neighbor.

Across the street and two houses to the left, Joel Miller lives. Well manicured lawn, cute daughter who goes door to door selling Girl Scout cookies, large truck parked out the front dinged and well used.

You’ve been down bad for him since you first moved in, a quick introductory hello and wave one early morning as you took your dog for a walk, how could you be so attracted to a total stranger?

That stranger ignoring you from that moment on, leaving you feeling nuts. Sometimes you’d take your dog for a walk when you’d notice him mowing the lawn, sneaking a glance under your sunglasses, watching the sweat make his skin glisten. Teenage crush vibes, teenage petulance coming out because you can’t have him or his attention.

You never see him with another woman there, only his loud, precocious brother Tommy who stops to talk with you whenever you’re outside. You know he likes you, but you’re too drawn to his older brother’s beam to even want to lead him on.

That night shared between the two of you, it almost feels like an evil experiment. He fucked you, fucked you hard, stared into your eyes as he came all over you, devoured your cunt as if he was starving, made you cum so hard it felt like you were floating in a cosmic cloud of sparks, then he left you naked and alone. He owned your body, like it was some sort of hostile takeover.

You’re barely even sure it happened, like if you speak about the existence of that night, everybody will tell you it never happened, that you’re nuts.

Why did he leave you like that? Why did he strand you the way he did? Why can’t you have him? Why cant you have an us?

Doesn’t he know what you would do for his attention? How you feel like you could just die when you think back to that night? You’re pathetic for him, isn’t it romantic?

You replay the words he uttered against your skin as he fucked you. “You feel so fucking good, like you were made for me.”

The taste of your sweat against your lips makes you almost want to cry as you try to run the thoughts of him away on the treadmill at the gym. The last time you sweat like this his cock was stretching you, his hand holding your cheek, his tongue languidly licking into your mouth.

——

After a night of staring at the ceiling, sleep not visiting you, tossing and turning not being able to get the thought of the weight of his body against yours, you decide to sit out on your porch with coffee in hand, staring at the sky as dawn approaches. A door slamming across the street startles you. He’s outside. This is it, you live in the same old familiar town, he can’t escape you, you can’t escape him. You trudge across the street, only clad in your shorts and your old Rangers shirt. You wave at him to get his attention as he finishes lifting his tool box onto his lift gate.

You see him swallow as you stand at the edge of his driveway.

“G’morning,” he nods. “Quite early.”

“It is. Could’t sleep.”

“Happens to me too.”

“Mm,” you tap your foot, arms folded across your chest. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

“S’complicated.”

“Try me, it’d make no difference.”

“Alright,” he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re too good. I don’t think it’s smart… for me to be with someone right now. Too much going on, ’n it’s safer if we just leave it at that. It’s better for you.”

“So, you fuck me, whisper all those sweet things in my ear, make me feel like I’m the chosen one, then just leave? How romantic Joel.”

“Never said I was the romantic type.”

“No, you’re just the fuck ‘em and strand ‘em. I guess.”

“Listen,” he looks down at his watch, “I gotta get goin’, got an important job to start. I really would like to talk more, I respect you too much ’n I really like you, I just think it’s better if you find someone else.”

“Right, well, see you around neighbor,” you bite.

Fuck it, you can’t have him.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #taylor swift #ttpd #down bad #the tortured poets department

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aphroditeinthesea · 9 months ago

Note

hi !! could i request a annabeth chase x fem reader that’s really angsty, like im thinking that they’re close friends and annabeth is like sure that reader likes percy and so she bottles her feelings up until she can’t hold it anymore and its all hurt/comfort (i have been listening to ttpd too much lately)

“ a greater woman stays cool (but i howl like wolf at the moon) ”

annabeth chase x fem!reader 🦉

a/n kinda short

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

When Y/N started hanging around more, Annabeth knew why. It was because of Percy. It had to be. Everyone since the dawn of time has had a crush on Perseus Jackson.

Why wouldn't they? He was handsome, charming, brave, funny, smart- that dumbass was everything someone could want. Most importantly, he was a boy.

When the mornings would come, Annabeth would never admit how she’d watch her friend as she would sit with her siblings at breakfast. The way she would laugh at something they’d say. She would throw her head back, letting her locks of hair fall out of her face, nearly catching the gray eyes in a stare. But Annabeth would quickly turn and fake a conversation.

It was more recently that Annabeth couldn't bare it. When the girl would come around when her and Percy were handing out, she would always find some excuse to leave. Or when she knew y/n would be somewhere, suddenly she was just "too busy." She knew she had to avoid y/n at all costs.

However, it was this day that she found y/n practicing with Percy that killed her. She couldn't look away from the way he had his arms around y/n, showing her how to balance her sword.

Her stomach flipped as the scene unfolded in front of her very eyes. His calloused hands over her smaller ones.

She soon locked eyes with Y/N, who softly smiled in return, “Annabeth!”

The blonde awkwardly waved before rushing off to her cabin. The two others were left confused, y/n speaking, “I’m gonna go check on her.” Percy nodded before she ran after Annabeth, awkwardly bumping into a few other campers on the way.

When she finally reached the Athena cabin, she was happy to find only a few of Annabeth’s siblings were there.

She stopped Malcolm as he began walking out the door, “have you seen Annabeth?’

“Yeah, she just ran into the bathroom,” he explained, pointing to the closed door.

“Thanks,” she waved as he left. She made her way to the white door and softly knocked, “Annabeth, it’s y/n,” she prefaced, “are you okay? I just wanted to check on you.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Annabeth was staring at her puffy red eyes in the mirror, “one second,” she called, wiping her eyes and fanning herself to look normal.

“You didn't answer my question.”

“I’m fine,” she choked out.

“No, you're… I’m coming in,” y/n responded, turning the doorknob.

Annabeth panicked, trying to get to the door before it opened. But alas, y/n opened the door, finding the mess of the blonde, standing in front of her.

“Beth-”

“Ugh,” Annabeth covered her face with her tissue filled fists, “it’s stupid, it's so stupid.” She stepped back, eventually sitting on top of the closed toilet.

“What happened?” Y/N kneeled at her, “did I do something?”

“No, gods, it’s not your fault.”

She placed her hand on Annabeth’s knee, “are you sure? Because you keep acting weird whenever I’m around you and Percy, was it because of him and I training- oh.”

The blonde nervously looked at the girl on the ground, beginning to lean back. She knew. She had to. She figured her all out.

“You have a crush on Percy, don’t you?”

Nevermind.

“Oh my gods,” she leaned back. “No, no I don't have a crush on Percy.”

“Oh?”

She took a deep breath, “I don't have a crush on Percy, and I’m not mad at you. I just,” she swallowed, “you two training did bother me, but…”

“What?”

“It’s because of you, not Percy,” she snapped.

Y/N tilted her head, standing up, “what?”

“Look,” she stood up as well, walking past the other girl, “I know you have a crush on Percy-”

“Ew, no I don't.”

Annabeth stood still, looking at y/n, “yes you do?”

She laughed, “gods, no, I don’t.”

“You guys are just friends?”

She nodded, “of course, I couldn't have a crush on him.”

“Why not?”

“Same reason you don’t.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.”

Annabeth leaned against the wall, “I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you're not,” y/n stood next to her, “you're wise.”

Annabeth just laughed, “shut up,” she nagged the girl in return.

“You shut up,” y/n nudged her back.

“Shut up.”

“Shut-” with that, Annabeth held her face in her hands to pull her into a kiss.

As they pulled away, y/n spoke again, “okay, I’ll shut up.”

#annabeth chase x reader #annabeth chase x fem!reader #annabeth chase #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #annabeth chase x y/n #annabeth chase x you #annabeth chase imagine #annabeth chase headcanon #based on a taylor swift song

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plutoispurplw · 9 months ago

Text

I Can Fix Him

Summary: You became friends with Spencer before he went to prison.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Little angst, mention of prision and murder, friend to lovers

A/N: I think someone should take TTPD out of my hands...Plss reblog it if you liked it

Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ

You met Spencer in a library, you couldn't reach for a book and he helped you out and then you invited him for a coffee.

After that you two became friends surprisingly because your ways of viewing the world were extremely different, you two started to spend more time together talking about anything, series, music, or normally books.

The conversations that you two had were your favorite thing, listening to him rambling was the best of all.

Then fastly two months after you met him you fell for him, it made you feel lovesick like some kind of teenager, and it was hard to not kiss him when he got closer to you when watching a movie to tell you about some random fact.

Then all went down because out of nowhere, he disappeared, you tried to call him and text him but he wouldn’t answer you.

When you went to his apartment to see him and ask him why he didn't answer you, you only found his teammates that he had told you about. They only told you that he was traveling, you know they were lying.

You felt hurt and decided to just forget him, you started to try to date more people but in the end, you didn't feel anything, his name was written on your heart.

After four months you received a message from him telling you to go to his apartment and talk about why he disappeared, you accepted only to finally give it closure.

When you knocked on the door and he opened it, he stood there for a moment without saying anything, and in the next one, he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a tight hug.

Then he quickly pulled away and started to speak. "Sorry for doing that, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." He stared a you with his hypnotizing eyes that had you in a trance.

"Don't worry, you don't make me uncomfortable." You assured him, that the last thing he had done was that he had only caused a glitch on your brain for a moment.

He gave a weak smile while he moved to the side to let you go to the living room, which made your heart go crazy.

Inside you, you were hitting your head against a wall, you fell again for him, it was truly ever over?

You sat on the couch while looking at the number of books that he had, every time you saw it there was more even if it felt like it couldn't.

He walked towards you and sat on the opposite side of the couch, the silence felt uncomfortable, and you decided to start talking.

"I know this sounds too forward but, where have you been? You just disappeared out of nowhere and your teammates say you were traveling, so why didn't you answer my calls or messages?"

He stayed quiet and looked at the floor, he didn't say anything or answer your questions and for a moment you thought about leaving but then he started to talk.

"I was in Mexico, in prison for three months and then a month ago I got free." His eyes became motionless for a moment, you could see how life left his eyes for a glimpse.

After he said that you stayed quiet and in shock, many questions running through your mind. "What happened?" Your voice was filled with a preoccupation for him.

"I was accused of killing a woman, someone made me look like the guilty." His voice sounded angry for a moment.

You notice how his jaw tightened for a moment but then his factions softened when he saw your expression of sadness.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know that's what happened." Your voice sounded wobbly, he caressed your hair a for second to comfort you when he saw tears about to spill from your eyes.

He was the one who should have been comforted but he didn't care and kept trying to calm you.

Then a thought popped into your head "If you were back one month ago why didn't you call me?" Your voice sounded a little hurt by that action.

"I thought you were mad at me and didn't want it to make it worse." He sounded guilty as if he had done something horrible to you.

"Even if I was I wouldn’t let you alone on this, believe me." Now it was your turn to comfort him, you put your hand on his cheek while you said that.

You felt how his gaze fell on your lips for a glimpse of a moment, he then looked into your eyes and you couldn't keep your emotions inside you for another moment.

You kissed him on his lips, and to your surprise, he reciprocated. The kiss was gentle and sweet, it was heaven kissing him.

Then he pulled away and looked regretful, you felt how your heart sank at that sight, maybe you were wrong to think that he liked you back.

"Sorry for kissing you, I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Your gaze fell to the floor, you felt like you wanted to die in that moment.

"It's not that, it's just that I have changed in these months, I'm not the same man that you had met in the past." His voice was more quiet, he sounded insecure about him. "I don't want to hurt you or damage your form of viewing the world."

When he said that, the only thing that you could think was that you didn't care if he ruined your vision of the world, you only wanted him and you knew that you could try to fix the parts of him that had been broken.

Your hands went to his face, holding it gently. "I know that and I don't care, please let me be here for you, let me be your support."

He kissed you and hugged you, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, it felt nice to have him back.

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chosetherose · 9 months ago

Text

Two Graves One Gun

So Long London continues the saga of celebrity versus soul. The only way to cure Taylor’s sadness is for her to bid farewell to bearding, and perhaps the closet.

If you can look past the red herrings in this song, you will find a deeply layered masterpiece that illuminates Taylor's battle with herself; how past plans made to maintain her celebrity have marred her soul. She doesn't want to live life like this anymore and is willing to burn her brand down to the ground to free her soul.

As always, the analysis I've written here is only one interpretation of this song. I'm not claiming it is "correct" but I encourage you to plow through (this is a very long post) and consider what I've laid out.

For context, I believe London is a metaphor for bearding. Here is some background for the new folks:

For most of her career, Taylor’s beards have been from the UK. Specifically, from 2012-2023 her beards were Harry Styles then Calvin Harris then Tom Hiddleston then Joe Alwyn.

The beginning of this stage was right around the time she started crossing over into pop music. Red is her first real leap into pop music and to do this successfully she needs to expand both domestically (to pop audiences that don't listen to country music) and internationally (her first opportunity for this since the rest of the world doesn't listen to much country music).

She started bearding with Harry Styles in late 2012, within weeks of Red's release then milks that short lived stunt for 1989 as well. What a way to capture a new pop audience made up of fans abroad and at home. Rinse and repeat until her priority changes to long-term privacy and she finds that aided by an unknown actor named Toe. Even though Taylor's current beard is American, suffice to say one can look at London as a metaphor for bearding given history.

[Intro]

So (So) long (Long), London (London) [repeated]

Pay attention to how she sings this...She breaks "London" into "Lon" and "Don".

So SO / Long LONG / Lon LON / Don DON

This is a sneakily beautiful way to emphasize: So! Long! Don(e)! ...Like "I've been bearding for so long and I'm done with it" or "So long, bearding! I'm done!" Yes, this is a reach but read the rest of this post and circle back. As this intro closes the final "Don(e)!" fades into the upticked beat.

[Verse 1]

I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist

I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

My spine split from carrying us up the hill

Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill

I stopped trying to make him laugh, stopped trying to drill the safe

Taylor seeing fairy lights through the mist sounds like she sees daylight at the end of a tunnel opaque from lavender haze. She keeps focused on this goal, carrying on with all these beards over the years. Although she's able to appear calm during these stunts, living life like this has forged a rift within herself. She beards because it's advantageous for her brand but her soul despises the ruse.

Side note: “Keep Calm and Carry On was a motivational poster produced by the Government of the United Kingdom in 1939 in preparation for World War II.” -Wikipedia. A bit of history that I think furthers the idea that Taylor was battling to keep going.

Tayor has to balance these aspects of herself continually - Too much stunting? Her soul needs a break. Had a good break from stunting? She needs to feed the grocery line Swifties to keep them at bay. It's an idea that got me thinking about yin and yang, "an opposite but interconnected, self-perpetuating cycle." (Wiki). I am not an expert on this concept but I know I've noticed it has come up throughout conversations about TTPD. If yin and yang is relevant for this album, as I believe it is in multiple songs, in the context of this verse it feels related to Taylor's constant need to find balance between the celebrity version of herself we see on our screens and the true version of herself only she can see in the mirror.

This cycle wears on Taylor so much that her spine splits from the weight. She has been slogging through stunts, dreaming of freedom, for years. It's been storming so long her clothes are soaked and she feels the chill down in her bones.

Because of the pain she decides to change strategy. Theres no more attempts to make her situation lighter or find ways to deal with it. And think about this - if you're trying to drill the safe open it means either A) you feel like you've tried all the codes and are resorting to brute force, and/or B) you're running out of time and growing desperate. Taylor is past even those points and is giving up entirely.

[Chorus]

Thinking how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

Oh, the tragedy

So long, London

You’ll find someone

The chorus reminds me of talking to a past version of yourself that made plans for a future you. We know Taylor must plan her life years in advance so perhaps she is asking her past self something like, “Why did you think I could handle continued bearding? Did you really think I could handle all the sadness I'm feeling today?”

Then I think the second half of this chorus is saying goodbye to bearding, symbolized by London, because she can’t bear the sadness anymore. Maybe the "you'll find someone" line is aimed at the fans a la "you should find another guiding light" like you guys will find someone else to fawn over in the tabloids.

Side note: I love the double entendre here. Because so long means goodbye but it has also been so long that she’s been bearding (largely with British men).

[Verse 2]

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out

I founded the club she's heard great things about

I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath

I stopped CPR, after all, it's no use

The spirit was gone, we would never come to

And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free

I don't have a strong opinion on the first two lines of this version. What comes to mind is she didn't opt in to be an openly LGBTQIA+ artist, she chose to closet and beard. Then other younger closeted celebrities have looked to her as a blueprint.

In the process of bearding for stardom, her soul abandoned all she knew. I think there is a red herring here as Heath could reference Hampstead Heath (which has connections to Toe) but it’s also continuing on the house theme that Taylor sings about. Here, it doesn’t sound like this house is a home. She’s not singing about chandeliers flickering inside, it’s “the” house by a heath -- “Heathland is characterized by plants such as heather, bilberry, gorse and bracken, which occur on infertile and well-drained soils. Open heaths have been highly modified by humans for centuries and are maintained by grazing or cutting.” She’s stuck somewhere that’s by drained her via death by a thousand cuts lol.

Again, it's weighed on her. So she's decided to stop trying to revive the disconnect between her soul and her celebrity, it’s no use trying anymore. She’s realized they could never fully come together.

And she’s pissed off she let her celebrity rob her of an open, free, youth where she could live truthfully. Recall that in Peace she sings, “a coming of age has come and gone” which to me means she feels she can’t explain a coming out via a youthful awakening angle. She’s at the age where people will understand she’s known this for years but hasn’t shared with the world. This will raise questions she won’t be able to answer because it’s all too tangled (NDAs, outing beards, etc.).

[Chorus]

For so long, London/ Stitches undone

Two graves, one gun

I'll find someone

For so long, she’s been bearding, stunting, hiding her true self to reach and/or maintain celebrity. It’s caused her stitches to come undone. This wording is interesting because it implies she had a wound from living this life hiding her truth, they tried to fix her up as her celebrity status soared, but it didn’t work because the sadness was too great.

Perhaps there's two graves and one gun because on the path to daylight she will kill both her celebrity and the sadness of her closeted self. Not how she switches from "you" will find someone to "I" will find someone. This is because she will destroy every version of herself that she's ever known if she comes out one day. She will rise like a Phoenix through the ashes to discover a new version of herself in the daylight.

Note that the Spotify clip for this song, from the Fortnight video, feels significant. First, Taylor looks up toward the daylight. Then, with heavy breaths and a concerned face, she rifles through her art (words written out on a typewriter). We know in the rest of this scene she is lighting her art on fire. Two graves one gun on a path to daylight.

[Bridge Part 1]

And you say I abandoned the ship

But I was going down with it

My white-knuckle dying grip

Holding tight to your quiet resentment

I imagine these first lines of the bridge to be aimed toward those in her life, on her team, etc. that steered her toward closeting to gain/keep fame. Maybe she has plans and they are saying by coming out she is abandoning the ship (her celebrity) they've all worked hard to build. In Miss Americana we heard her team tell her that coming out as a Democrat would halve the numbers of her next tour. Can you imagine what would be said about a coming out?

But what they don’t understand is that living this life is killing her. She’s been holding on to all the subtle ways they’ve told her over the years that her career will sink if she comes out of the closet.

[Bridge Part 2]

And my friends said it isn't right to be scared

Every day of a love affair

Every breath feels like rarest air

When you're not sure if he wants to be there

When she confides with her friends about it all they tell her she shouldn’t be afraid to take steps toward the daylight because look where she is now. She’s been stunting for years (love affairs in the tabloids) and it's awful for her. So terrible that she's grasping for breaths, unsure if she can still survive in this atmosphere (thin/rare air means its not a hospitable environment for Taylor).

[Chorus]

So how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

How much tragedy?

Just how low did you think I'd go

Before I'd self-implode?

Before I'd have to go be free?

Again, I think she’s talking to her past self here. “How could I have thought I’d survive sinking this low? How could I not realize I’d reach a point where I’d self-implode?” Which here, self-implosion is telling a similar story as I think the two graves one gun lyrics do — the result of the self implosion is being free. If she blows up her celebrity and she will be free to live her truth, curing the sadness that has been ruling her life for years.

[Verse 3]

You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waiting for the proof

You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days

And I'm just getting color back into my face

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place

I imagine this verse is aimed at her fans, the grocery line Swifties who believe her beards are real boyfriends. I read “you swore that you loved me but where were the clues?” as a sarcastic jab because she’s been screaming 🌈 for whoever is willing to listen. The fans claim to love Taylor but they aren’t willing to really listen to her.

Most people here “altar” and think of a wedding but the definition is much broader, “In religion, a raised structure or place that is used for sacrifice, worship, or prayer” (Wiki). So Taylor was up on the altar, a place of worship, waiting for clues that these fans actually loved her. But what started as worship became sacrifice as these fans never found love for who Taylor really is all the while the bearding and hiding were causing Taylor deep sadness.

Despite all this, she loves her job and her fans. The sadness is too much though. She is about to self implode and feels its time to take steps toward a brighter future. It’s maddening as hell to metaphorically blow up your life just as your fame is escalating to new heights you’ve reached for your whole career.

[Chorus]

For so long, London (So long, London)

Had a good run A moment of warm sun But I'm not the one So long, London Stitches undone Two graves, one gun You'll find someone

For so long, she bearded. She had a good run, getting away with it all, reaching levels of fame she always dreamed of. But she's not the one to keep the charade going (as opposed to her heroes who unfortunately 'died' closeted). Goodbye, bearding. The wound was too big to fix. With one action, I will kill the version of myself you (the fans) know and the version of myself I know. You (the fans) will find someone else to worship.

...

I could keep tweaking this theory for weeks but these are my initial thoughts on this song about two weeks out from TTPD's release. This album is incredible complex but for me the signs we keep getting are all pointing toward significant change. There is a momentum going right now that I haven't felt since the early Lover era. No matter what happens or how long it takes, I hope our fearless Chairman gets the chance to bask in the sun shiniest daylight. She deserves the warmth.

💕 CTR

#forgive me there are probably minor edits needed #but #I can’t proofread this again I just need to press post

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