#i saw the movie first and this one little question i had to know about it made me look the question up online

[shockercoco]

Better Late Than Never

Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings - fluff, some kissing, Valentine’s Day shenanigans, flirty!Bucky

Word count - 2167

a/n - Happy Valentine’s Day everyone, especially to all my fellow single readers! I’ve somehow ended up in my Sebastian Stan era again, so I thought why fight it. It’s been a while since I’ve written an imagine, and I’m feeling a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy and thanks in advance for reading :)

“What’s got you smiling so much?” You ask Wanda as she sits down across from you.

It was Wanda’s idea to meet up for lunch after finding out about the rough morning you had, and she had also told you that she had some good news to share that might cheer you up. 

You had woken up late for work, couldn’t find your car keys, and when you reached the halfway point on your journey to work, you realized you didn’t have your phone. Today just wasn’t your day.

“Remember how I said I had some good news?” Wanda asks, her smile huge as she leans in and rests her elbows on the table. When you nod, she continues. “Well, Vision surprised me at work and finally asked me to be his girlfriend! He brought me flowers and everything.”

Yeah, today just really wasn’t your day.

“That’s really great, Wanda, but how exactly is that supposed to cheer me up?” you question, giving her a small smile to soften your words.

“Because you were the one who suggested that I should confess my feelings to him, and you’ve pretty much been with me every step of the way,” Wanda tells you. Her expression then turns into confusion. “Is something wrong?”

You honestly were really proud and happy for Wanda, and if this were any other time of the year, your reaction would’ve been different. But it’s not. Valentine's Day is at the end of the week and you just want the week to be over with.

While you were walking down the street on your way to the restaurant, you walked past a woman getting proposed to in the park. While you were waiting for the light to change in order for you to cross the street, you saw a couple making out. As you walked past a street vendor selling flowers, you overheard the vendor making conversation with a man who was apparently looking for the right flowers to buy his crush. Now, Wanda hits you with this.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you quickly shake your head. “I’ve just had a weird day.”

She looks at you for a moment longer, not fully believing you. “Hmm, there’s something else. Tell me.”

You let out a laugh. “Wanda, I’m fine. It just…it’s nothing really. I’m good.”

“It’s just what?” Wanda asks. When you hesitate again, she adds, “We’re not ordering until you tell me what’s up,” she smirks at you. 

A small groan leaves you, before you speak up, “It’s just that Bucky hasn’t asked me to be his valentine yet, and this is our first Valentine’s Day as a couple. It stupid, I know. I shouldn’t even be upset.”

“No, it’s not stupid. Have you mentioned how you feel to him?”

“No, I didn’t think I had to since he’s always surprising me with gifts any other time of the year. I just figured this would just happen naturally, but nothing yet.”

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. After all, it’s still the beginning of the week. Who knows, he could just be waiting for the actual day to come,” Wanda says, and when you don’t say anything, she places a hand on top of yours and continues, “I’d honestly be surprised if Bucky does absolutely nothing for you. Everyone knows how obsessed he is with you.”

That makes you smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am, and when Valentine’s Day comes and he still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine, call me, I’ll hunt him down,” Wanda tells you right as a waitress walks up to the table to take your guys’ order. She catches the end of Wanda’s sentence and has a confused, yet amused look on her face. “Sorry, just relationship problems.”

The waitress laughs as she says, “Don’t worry I understand.”

Later that night when you're at Bucky’s place for a movie night the two of you had planned the week before, you can feel Bucky looking at you repeatedly while your eyes are still on the screen. You’re cuddled up into his side with his arm wrapped around you, but you still notice the constant shifting of his head.

You finally give in and look up at him. “Is there something on my face?” you ask him, your tone teasing.

Bucky’s confused with your question. “No, why?”

“Because you keep looking at me.”

“What, I can’t admire my own girlfriend anymore?”

“It feels more like staring than anything,” you tell him, and Bucky just laughs.

“Well, then I’m sorry,” Bucky apologizes as he places a hand on your cheek to lift your head up. He leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips, a smile still tugging on the corner of his lips. When he pulls away, he still keeps the distance between the two of you small as he looks into your eyes.

“Seriously, what is it?” you whine as you playfully shove him away from you, causing him to laugh. He knows how much you hate it when he does that. “Is there something bugging you?” you casually slide in the question, slightly hoping that he would use this time to ask you to be his valentine.

“No, there isn’t,” he laughs and pulls away, turning his attention back to the screen, but keeping his arm still wrapped around you. “I’m done, I promise.” 

He misses the slight drop in your expression, but you quickly fix your face before looking back at the tv as well.

As the week goes on, you try to focus on more important things, but as Friday continues to get closer, your hope continues to diminish. You and Bucky continue to text normally throughout the week, but when Thursday afternoon comes Bucky calls you to let you know that he’ll be going on a mission the next day. On Valentine’s Day.

“I’m sorry it’s such short notice, doll, but Steve needs me,” you hear Bucky softly tell you through the phone. You’re sitting on a chair in front of your window watching people pass by with Bucky on speaker.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I understand,” you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “How long will you be gone?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, before Bucky speaks, “A couple of weeks.”

Weeks? 

Your heart drops at his answer and you feel your throat start to tighten. You quickly mute yourself to clear the tears from your throat, before unmuting.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks, noticing your delayed response. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s people out there that need you,” you speak up.

You catch sight of your neighbor’s boyfriend walking up to her house with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You momentarily forget you’re on the phone and unintentionally let out a frustrated sigh at the sight, catching Bucky’s attention.

“Listen, I can probably get out of it. I’m sure Steve doesn’t need me that bad, there’s a whole team of people that are available to help out.”

A sad laugh leaves you. “Bucky it’s fine, I promise. He’s your best friend and he specifically asked you because he wants you, so go.”

“If you insist,” you hear Bucky sigh “I know you’re upset, though, so I promise to make it up to you when I get back, okay?”

That makes you crack a smile. “Okay.”

When the next day rolls around, you take your time getting out of bed. Unfortunately, you had the day off today, which of course you would’ve been happy about under different circumstances. 

You decide to keep yourself busy and do some chores to pass time, but by the time you’re done cleaning every crevice and doing laundry, it’s only four in the afternoon.

At some point, Wanda calls to check up on you and asks if you wanted her and Vision to come over and have dinner with you. Vision was planning on cooking for just the two of them, but he told you he had no problem making more. Although the two of them both repeatedly insisted they didn’t mind making the drive to your place, you declined.

It felt wrong to intrude on a special night like tonight. 

After telling Wanda and Vision that you would just order in, the two of you finally end the call.

You weren’t currently that hungry so you decided to just order something later. You make yourself comfortable on the couch and decide to put on a tv show you’ve been wanting to watch. 

A couple episodes later, you finally start to get hungry, and right when you’re about to place an order, your doorbell rings. You shake your head thinking it was just Vision and Wanda coming to share their food, but as you look through the peephole to see Bucky standing outside holding a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed animal you had been wanting, your heart drops along with your jaw.

You look down at your outfit and contemplate quickly changing, but decide against it.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you had to go on a mission?” you ask when you open the door.

“Surprise!” Bucky greets you with a bright smile. He leans in to give you a kiss, before whispering, “Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart.”

Bucky can see that you’re still shocked and at a loss for words, so he just laughs as he pushes past you and makes his way inside. You close the door behind him and watch as he makes his way into the kitchen and lays the flowers on the counter along with the stuffed animal.

“As much as I’m happy that you’re here, why are you here?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you lean against the counter, your arms folded across your chest. 

Bucky sends you a smirk as he quickly puts the flowers in water before making his way over to you. He places his hands on your waist as closes the distance between you two.

“You didn’t really think that I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day together, did you?”

“I didn’t even think you remembered, I mean you haven’t said anything about it all week,” you tell him.

“Yeah, Wanda told me you were a little upset,” Bucky mentions and your eyes widen.

“What a traitor, she wasn’t supposed to say anything,” you say slightly embarrassed as you look off to the side. Then a thought hits you, and you look back at him. “Wait, did you just come here because of what Wanda told you?”

“No, I was already planning on coming here tonight.”

“But what about your mission?” you ask, still confused.

Bucky smiles. “There never was a mission, doll. I made it up because I wanted to surprise you. You really thought I would spend today with Steve instead of you?”

“...Well, he is your best friend.”

“That’s true,” Bucky nods, grabbing your hands in his and placing kisses on your knuckles, “but, you’re my best girl,” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, causing butterflies in your stomach and your face to heat up.

What were you upset about again?

A chuckle leaves Bucky as he watches you shyly smile as you look away.

“You could’ve at least said something this whole week,” you tell him.

“I know, I know,” he admits, “but I was trying to get everything together.”

“Get what together?” you ask.

Bucky stays silent for a moment as if trying to find the right words to say. Then he says, “I want you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches as you stare back at him. “What?”

Maybe you inhaled too many chemicals while cleaning.

“I want you to move in with me,” Bucky repeats. “I know we’ve been dating for less than a year and I completely understand if this is too fast for you, but there’s plenty of room for you at my place and I would be much happier if I was able to have you next to me when I wake up every morning.”

Oh. 

You blink.

“You’re serious?” you ask, even though there's no indication on his face to tell you he’s lying. 

Bucky lets go of your hands to place his on either side of your face. “Completely. Like I said, you’re my best girl.” He watches a smile slowly form on your lips. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes,” you say, and Bucky’s grin grows wider, but you hold your hand up. “Don’t start smiling yet, I wasn’t finished.”

Bucky quickly fixes his face and tries to suppress his excitement. “Of course, continue.”

“I say yes, only if you agree to never pull anything like this ever again.”

“Ever?” Bucky repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Bucky!” you playfully hit his chest.

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you. Then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “I’ll just wait until you forget.”

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[claramelooo]

WOVEN FATES (5/???)

Happy Valentine, babes!! (1 day late, but that's okay)

I hope my valentines like the gift 💕

Enjoy it! <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Pairing: AgathaRio X Fem Reader

Summary: You think you're independent, but Agatha disagrees.

Hey! Now I've a masterlist.

Domain

The filming of Agatha's new movie was everything you expected and, at the same time, so much more. The set was an organized chaos: people running back and forth, lights being adjusted, voices blending into a sea of commands. You had never worked so hard in your life, and yet, it felt like you were never doing enough.

Agatha was a force of nature on set. Harsh, demanding, relentless. Every detail mattered, every movement was rehearsed to exhaustion, and her voice cut through the air like a blade when something was out of place. Despite the frantic pace, you couldn’t help but admire how she seemed to have absolute control over everything around her.

A few days had passed since you moved into their house, and in that time, the world you once knew felt like it had completely changed. The house, once strange and imposing, now carried a warmth you had never felt anywhere else.

Mornings were peaceful, marked by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the subtle voices echoing through the hallways. But there was something more—something that made your heart race: Rio and Agatha’s attempts at touch. They were light at first, almost innocent, but they were becoming constant, and that terrified you. Not because they were invasive, but because you were becoming greedy.

It was a silent, almost shameful desire.

You wanted more.

More of the warmth of Rio’s fingers grazing your skin as she handed you a cup of tea. More of the way Agatha slightly tilted her head while watching you, as if she already knew exactly what you were feeling. More of the security that came with being there, wrapped in the space they offered you.

That feeling of belonging seemed too new and fragile, as if it could disappear at any moment. And maybe that was what made you crave it so desperately—the fear that if you didn’t hold on tightly enough, it would all slip through your fingers.

They always seemed to need you close. Dinners were long, filled with conversations you sometimes didn’t even know how to participate in, but somehow, you were never left out. Rio smiled in a way that sent shivers down your spine, and Agatha always knew when your mind wandered to places you didn’t dare admit. They were patient, but you saw the anticipation in their eyes, the thread of tension in their unspoken words.

And the nights… the nights were different.

They didn’t sleep as deeply as you imagined. Agatha, especially, was silent but watchful. She told herself there was only one reason for it: to make sure you weren’t overworking yourself, that nothing disrupted the delicate balance you brought into that house. That justification was enough to silence the more uncomfortable questions in her mind.

But in the past few nights, as she watched you sleep, something was changing.

Agatha sat in the armchair in the corner of the room, her hands resting on her lap, but her eyes fixed on you. Your face was serene as you slept, and the way you looked so small and vulnerable in bed made something unsettling stir in her chest.

There was something about the way your hair fell on the pillow, the way your breathing was so soft, the way you looked… beautiful. Not just physically, but in a way Agatha couldn’t define. It was an all-encompassing beauty, something that went beyond appearance. Something rooted in your sweetness, in the way you tried to please, even when you were so scared.

And that was what disturbed her the most. You were sweet, so incredibly sweet, and at the same time, so shy—so eager to do what was asked. Not out of fear, but because you wanted to trust, you wanted to be seen.

And Agatha was seeing it. She was seeing how, little by little, you were beginning to trust her and Rio. You were no longer as hesitant with their touches, even if you still blushed every time they teased you. You were starting to open small windows into your personality, tiny glimpses of courage and vulnerability that seemed tailor-made to break through their defenses.

But one night, a storm raged outside, thunder rolling across the sky as if summoned by something deep and wild. The rain pounded against the windows, casting dancing shadows across the room in the flickering lightning. You were lost in your dream, but to you, it was more than just a dream; it was an echo of something old, a trauma that had never truly healed.

In the dream, you were standing in an empty, gray field, the ground beneath your feet dissolving into nothingness. And then you saw her. Your mother. But she had her back to you, her figure shrouded in a pale light that made it impossible to see her face.

"Mom?" Your voice came out hesitant, like a child just learning to speak. You took a step toward her, but it felt like the closer you got, the farther away she became. "Mom, please, don’t go..."

She didn’t respond. She didn’t turn to you. She just kept walking.

"Please, don’t leave me! I need you!" You cried out, your voice rising in desperation. Tears burned your eyes as you ran, trying to reach her, but every step was harder than the last. It was as if the ground was crumbling beneath you, and with each movement, you sank deeper into the darkness.

"Mom! Please!" You fell to your knees, arms outstretched toward her. She stopped for a brief moment, and you held your breath. Maybe she would look back. Maybe…

But no. Without turning, she took another step and disappeared, dissolving into the void.

You fell. Literally fell, as if the ground had split open beneath you. The wind roared in your ears, the world around you becoming a mass of darkness. And as you plummeted, your voice broke into a desperate scream: "Mommy!"

But just when it seemed like nothing would catch you, that you were destined to be swallowed by the void, you felt something. A warm touch. Firm hands.

You opened your eyes, gasping, tears streaming down your face. You were no longer in the void—you were in your bed. A soft, delicate hand stroked your hair, while a soothing voice whispered, "We’re here..."

It was Rio. Her voice was low, almost a lullaby, and for the first time, you realized how she could seem incredibly strong and gentle at the same time.

"Shh… you’re okay," Rio continued, pulling you lightly into her arms. You clung to her without thinking, as if she was the only thing anchoring you in that moment.

But it wasn’t just Rio. When you lifted your gaze, you saw Agatha sitting at the edge of the bed. Her face was dark with thought, her eyes fixed on you with an intensity you had never seen before.

"You’re safe," Agatha said, her voice low and steady, but there was something more there—something she didn’t let slip easily.

You sobbed, trying to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Agatha hesitated, but slowly, she reached out to touch your tear-streaked face, wiping your tears away with her thumb. It was such a simple gesture, yet so heavy with something you couldn’t quite define.

She should be thinking about your energy, about keeping you stable, about preserving it. At least, that’s what she told herself. But at that moment, with you so fragile before her, your wide eyes filled with fear and your body trembling in Rio’s arms, something inside Agatha shifted.

It was more than just your energy.

More than any convenient justification.

It was you.

It was the way you looked so... theirs. As if you had always belonged there, even if neither of them had the courage to admit it yet.

Agatha didn’t pull away. Instead, she let her hand linger on your face for just a moment longer, while Rio continued whispering soft words in your ear, holding you as if she would never let you fall again.

And then, right there, you knew.

You knew that this was your place.

In the arms of two women old enough to be your mother.

Maybe Freud would have something to say about it—probably an entire book. But, frankly, it didn’t matter. Not in that instant, as Rio’s familiar scent and Agatha’s hesitant touch surrounded you. No psychoanalytic theory would make sense.

The only thing that mattered was the fact that you didn’t want to leave.

Ever.

[...]

The sun scorched the set, and you were beginning to feel more comfortable with the frantic pace of filming. People talked, laughed, and made jokes, and in a way, you finally felt like part of something. But even in the middle of the chaos, you knew Agatha was watching.

Always watching.

She never made a point of hiding it completely, but she also never showed anything that could be interpreted as favoritism. To everyone there, you were just another production assistant. Just another person trying to please the brilliant and ruthless director.

"Good job, everyone! Lunch break," Agatha’s voice cut through the air, firm and authoritative. For a moment, her blue eyes met yours, but she quickly turned away, already shifting her attention to something else.

It was now or never. As everyone headed to the makeshift cafeteria, you grabbed your backpack and started walking away, feeling your heart race.

"Where are you going?" Yelena asked, crossing her arms as she watched you with curiosity.

"I have something to take care of. I’ll be back before the break is over."

She looked at you suspiciously but shrugged. Before she could say anything else, you were already leaving.

The truth was, ever since you moved in with them, your life had stopped being entirely your own. It wasn’t something spoken in words but felt in every glance, in every careful gesture that seemed to carry more weight than it should.

Agatha drove you to college every morning, always with that heavy silence, but never without adjusting your seatbelt over your lap first, as if making sure you’d be safe. And in the afternoon, Rio was already waiting at the gate, the car engine running, a brief smile on her face, but her eyes scanning everything around, as if expecting something to hurt you at any moment.

Visiting your brother felt impossible. Every time you mentioned it, an excuse came, almost effortless but full of intention. “Maybe after the shoot. It’s better this way, you need to rest.” Or, “We can look into that together this weekend.” And before you knew it, time had passed, and the subject had been brushed aside like dust swept under a rug.

But it wasn’t just that. They were in you, in every thought you had, in every decision you tried to make. It was as if your own will was slowly being erased, diluted into their desire to keep you there, under control, as if leaving was a threat they couldn’t bear. And somehow, part of you no longer knew what you wanted.

When you arrived, the sight nearly knocked you off your feet.

Your brothers were there. All of them. And, to your greater shock, so was your father.

You stood frozen at the entrance for a few seconds, unable to believe what you were seeing.

"What... what is this?" You murmured, your voice low and filled with disbelief.

"Well, well, look who decided to show up!" One of your brothers said, a mocking smile on his lips. "Madam finally stepped out of her castle to visit us mere mortals?"

You frowned, trying to stay calm.

"What are you all doing here? You don’t even live in this state!"

Your father, who was seated at the table, slowly stood up, his eyes as hard as ever. "We are where we need to be. Unlike you, who walks around thinking you’re better than everyone else."

His words hit you like a punch. You took a deep breath, trying to stay in control.

"I just came to see Josh. I thought he was... alone."

Your voice came out colder than you intended, and that made your father’s face harden even more.

"I thought I had given you clear instructions," your father said, pinching the bridge of his nose as if restraining himself. "You were supposed to watch him, put him back on track."

You scoffed, incredulous. Fuck this shit.

"Josh is a grown man. He can make his own decisions, I can assure you of that."

"Decisions?!" He sneered. "That’s deviance!"

The air in the room felt heavier, denser, suffocating. Your father stood there with that same expression as always—full of empty authority, a man who believed his voice was law.

"If only he had someone to guide him... someone with common sense," he said, as if discussing the weather, as if he wasn’t spewing venom against his own son.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, your vision sharpening—like your body knew it was time to fight.

And the sight of Josh, with his face still bruised—some of the marks already fading—and his eyes screaming shame, filled your chest with something painted red.

"Oh, I see," you said, letting out a dry laugh, crossing your arms. "Because following your example would be just great, right? Spending a lifetime playing the tough guy, pretending you have everything under control while destroying everyone around you."

His face hardened. "Watch your mouth."

"Watch my mouth?! Watch my mouth, Dad?! You destroyed this family! You pushed everyone away with your fucking superiority complex! Mom, me, and now Josh. He doesn’t need guidance, he doesn’t need correction, and he sure as hell doesn’t need you! You know what he needs? Someone who loves him for who he is. Something you were never capable of doing!"

The silence in the room was deafening. Your brothers were paralyzed, shocked by your boldness.

Your father was a serious man, a strategist, a relentless worker who worked hard to build the image of the perfect patriarch. They had never heard him yell, never seen him lose control—because control was everything to him. Control over the house. Control over the children. Control over the wife.

Until the wife, who was supposed to serve and submit, disappeared.

You laughed, a dry, bitter sound.

"You never knew your place!" your father shouted, taking a step forward. "You think you’re special? That you can turn your back on your family and it’s all fine? You always thought you were better than us. But you know what you are? A whore, just like your mother!"

His words burned like acid, touching a raw nerve inside you.

"Funny, isn’t it? You, all this time, trying to force us into a mold, shoving your worldview down our throats like it was the only possible one. Like it was sacred. Like it was some fucking religion."

You took a step forward, your voice dripping with venomous irony.

"But you know what makes you and God so... alike?"

He didn’t answer. His jaw was clenched, his eyes burning with hatred.

"Even He couldn’t keep His woman in paradise."

The slap echoed through the house. Your head snapped to the side from the force of the blow, and the taste of blood flooded your mouth. A searing heat spread across your face, but you didn’t back down. You didn’t lower your head.

Your body trembled with adrenaline, your eyes filled with tears, but you refused to cry in front of them. Not here.

Josh was quick. With a firm hand, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back, placing himself between you and your father.

"Enough." His voice was tense but controlled. "You’ve done enough damage," he said to the man, trying not to show fear.

Your face burned, the metallic taste of blood mixing with the humiliation boiling inside you. Your siblings remained frozen, as if the room had been sealed inside an unbearable bubble of tension.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Your hands were still shaking as you pulled it out, trying to take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. When you saw Agatha’s name glowing on the screen, something inside you cracked.

You walked to your old bedroom to answer.

"Hey?" You picked up, trying to sound normal, but your voice came out thick with emotion.

On the other end, the silence lasted only a second before her voice cut through like a blade. "Where are you?"

Your heart pounded. It was impossible to hide that something was wrong.

"I... I’m… it’s fine. I just had to take care of something."

"Take care of telling me where you are. Now." Her tone was low and controlled but laced with something dangerous.

You hesitated, feeling your throat close up. But there was no lying. Not to her.

You finally murmured the address, almost inaudible.

"Wait there. Do not leave."

Before you could respond, she hung up. Your chest tightened even more when the next message arrived.

My driver is on the way. Don’t you dare move.

You put the phone away and looked at your family, your face still burning from the slap. They laughed, exchanging glances as if they had won. But for the first time, you felt something different.

There was someone who cared. Someone watching over you. And somehow, that made everything feel a little less unbearable.

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears, seeing Josh approach. "Hey…" He lightly tapped your knee, making you look up.

Josh studied you with concern, his eyes focused on the cut on your lip but not wanting to pressure you. You ran your tongue over the wound, tasting the metallic tang of blood still lingering.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly.

You let out a humorless laugh. "Okay is a strong word."

Josh sighed and shook his head. "I should’ve protected you better."

"You’ve done more than enough, Josh," you replied, your voice softer now. "But… I need to tell you something."

He frowned. "What?"

You hesitated, hating to say it at that moment. But he needed to know.

"The building… It’s going to be demolished. You have to leave."

His face twisted in surprise, then into something close to resignation. But then, to your surprise, a small smile appeared on his lips.

"Then I guess it’s perfect timing," he said with a shrug. "The gallery lady… She gave me the job. As a security guard."

Your heart clenched, but this time in a good way. Rio had actually done what you asked—she cared. You couldn’t hold back a smile, even with the pain in your face.

"Josh… that’s amazing!" You jumped up, wrapping him in a tight hug. He returned it immediately, holding onto you as if he knew how much you both needed that moment.

"We’re going to get out of this, okay?" He murmured. "One way or another."

Before you could respond, three firm knocks echoed against the door. Josh pulled away first, looking toward the sound. You took a deep breath, feeling your chest tighten.

"That must be the driver," you said, adjusting your clothes.

Josh raised an eyebrow. "Driver?"

"Long story."

You got up and walked to the door. On the other side, Ralph stood, impeccable as always, with his rigid posture and sharp gaze.

"Miss," he greeted with a slight nod. "Mrs. Harkness requested that I take you immediately."

You cast one last glance at Josh before turning back to Ralph.

"Let’s go."

The ride to the studio was silent. Ralph drove with mechanical precision while you stared out the window at the city passing by, trying to organize your thoughts. But your mind was still stuck in that house, on your father, on the taste of blood in your mouth, on the look in Josh’s eyes when you told him he had to leave.

When the car finally stopped in front of the set, you took a deep breath before stepping out. The warmth of the early afternoon sun hit your already heated skin, but it didn’t help soothe the knot in your throat. You adjusted your clothes instinctively, as if that could prevent people from noticing the chaos inside you.

The set was bustling as usual, with bright lights, cameras in position, and the crew moving back and forth. But your attention was immediately drawn to one single figure.

Agatha.

She stood there, statue-like, arms crossed, back to the crew, her posture firm and impenetrable. One hand held a radio, fingers idly sliding over its edge as she pressed it against her chin, seemingly lost in thought. But you knew.

She wasn’t distracted.

She was waiting.

And then, her eyes landed on you.

It was like an electric wire snapping in the air.

Agatha’s gaze swept over your face in a clinical examination, her attention locking onto every detail. The tension in your shoulders, the way you kept your head slightly lowered, the tightness in your lips. And then, the inevitable—the cut.

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, a dark shadow passing through her expression. But it was quick, a flash that disappeared as swiftly as it appeared. Any trace of reaction was carefully erased before anyone else could notice.

"The break’s over!"

Her voice sliced through the air with blade-like precision. Firm, unwavering. As if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t just looked at you and understood everything in a single second.

But you knew Agatha never forgot.

She never forgot.

And as you walked past her quickly, without looking up, something inside her cracked—a feeling she couldn’t name or push away. She turned slightly, watching you disappear into the crew.

The day went on, but you felt crushed by an invisible weight. Your swollen face and the cut on your lip still throbbed lightly, a reminder of what had happened. You tried to focus on work, carrying costumes back and forth, trying to lose yourself in the tasks to push the thoughts away.

You were carrying a long, elegant dress to Wanda Maximoff, one of the most recognized and beloved actresses in the industry. Everyone on set seemed to orbit around her—not just because she was stunning, but because her reputation as sweet and kind made her everyone’s favorite. She was always a delight in interviews, full of smiles and words of support for her colleagues. The kind of person the media described as flawless.

But with you, things were… different.

As you approached, Wanda turned to you, her eyes gleaming as if she had detected something from afar. For a moment, you hesitated, intimidated by her presence. But then you quickly reminded yourself—you were just doing your job.

"Ah, finally." Her voice was colder than you expected, nothing like the warm tone from the interviews you had watched. She took the dress from your hands with a movement that seemed both casual and calculated, and then, her eyes fell on you. "You took your time."

You blinked, surprised by the way she said it. It wasn’t a direct complaint, but there was something sharp in her voice. "Sorry, there was a lot to organize. I figured you'd rather have it arrive perfect than fast."

For a moment, she studied you, her green eyes shining in a way that felt almost… challenging. "Perfect, huh? I don’t know if that’s possible, considering the script I have to work with."

You frowned. "Is there something wrong with the script?"

"Wrong?" She let out a low chuckle, running her fingers over the fabric of the dress. "Wrong isn’t the word. It’s more… weak. My character is predictable, boring. Don’t you think?"

Your stomach twisted. She didn’t know, of course, but you had contributed to that character’s storyline. You had spent nights revising every single line, trying to make her three-dimensional and complex. And now, hearing Wanda dismiss it all as "boring" hit you like a rock.

"Well," you replied, your voice carrying a bit more firmness than usual, "I think characters are only weak when the actor fails to find depth in them."

Wanda’s eyes widened slightly at your boldness. She wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by someone like you—just a production assistant, practically invisible to her. But instead of looking offended, she smiled, a smile that carried something between amusement and irritation.

"Oh, really?" She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly as she watched you. "So you think the problem is with me and not the script?"

"That’s not what I said." You tried to keep your tone steady, but you knew your answer wasn’t convincing enough.

"It’s not what you said, but it’s exactly what you meant," she shot back, her voice lower now, as if she was toying with the idea of provoking you. "Funny. And who exactly are you to have such a strong opinion?"

"Someone who understands your character’s story," you answered before you could think, feeling your hands begin to sweat.

For a second, Wanda was silent, and then something shifted in her gaze. It was as if she had just figured something out, something that intrigued her.

"Ah." She murmured, her eyes flickering from your face to the dress in her hands. "You must be the anonymous writer Agatha hired. Now it all makes sense."

You didn’t answer, but the heat rising to your cheeks gave you away.

She took a step closer, the smile on her lips softening but still carrying something sharp. "I’ll tell you something, sweetheart," she whispered, so close you could feel the warmth of her presence. "If you really believe this character has any depth, I hope you prove it. Because so far, I haven’t seen anything."

And then, without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, leaving you there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

Wanda Maximoff was everything they said she was—beautiful, brilliant, talented. But at the same time, she was completely different. She was rude, provocative, challenging. And for some reason, all of that only made you feel even more unsettled.

Later, the atmosphere on set felt heavier by the minute. Agatha was particularly irritable, her jaw clenched as if she were about to explode. Her usually calm and controlled voice was hoarse and filled with irritation as she barked orders at everyone around her.

"More energy in the next scene! And please, listen when I give instructions!"

One of the actresses, already nervous about the tense atmosphere, dropped the glass of water she was holding. The glass shattered on the floor, and the sound made everyone on set freeze.

Agatha closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply before whispering through gritted teeth to her assistant. "Clean this up. Now."

The assistant, desperate to avoid any outburst of anger, immediately turned to you. "You. Clean this up now."

Without questioning, you nodded and quickly walked to the small storage room at the back of the set. While you grabbed a broom and some cloths, the door clicked shut behind you.

You turned quickly, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it echoed in the small space.

Agatha was there, leaning against the door with her arms crossed. Her blue eyes had an almost cruel intensity, as if they were dissecting you the moment they met yours. There wasn’t a single crack in the control she exuded, but there was something—something dark, something vulnerable—hidden beneath the facade.

"Do you think you can just disappear like that? Without a word? Without an explanation?" Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a weight that made the air feel thicker.

"I was doing what I was told." You tried to sound firm, but your voice wavered, softer than you wanted.

"Don’t give me that." Agatha uncrossed her arms and took a step forward, every movement calculated, predatory. "Talk."

Your chest tightened. "It’s nothing. Just… let me do my job." You tried to step past her, but her hand lifted, pressing against the door, blocking your exit.

"Your face doesn’t look like nothing." She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she examined you with almost cruel precision. "And that cut on your lip? Is that what you call ‘nothing’?"

You felt the heat rise to your face—a mix of shame and anger making your hands tremble slightly. "That’s... that's none of your business."

Agatha let out a low, sharp laugh, devoid of humor. "Everything about you is my business."

"Why?" You lifted your eyes, your gaze defiant despite the knot in your throat. "Why do you care, Agatha?"

The silence that followed was almost unbearable, heavy with something you couldn’t quite name. Agatha seemed to hesitate, her eyes locked onto yours as if she were fighting an internal battle. When she finally spoke, her voice was lower but no less commanding.

"Because you’re my responsibility."

Those words were like a spark in dry grass. You stepped forward, staring at her directly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breathing.

For a moment, Agatha didn’t respond. The silence hung between you, dense and charged. She seemed to struggle with herself, as if the words were on the tip of her tongue, but something—maybe pride—kept her from saying them.

"Responsibility?" You repeated, letting out a bitter laugh. "I’m not your responsibility, Agatha. I’m a person. Not a project."

Agatha stayed silent, her jaw tightening as she absorbed your words. There was something in her eyes—a mix of anger, wounded pride, and… pain? But her expression quickly returned to a cold, impenetrable mask.

"You think you know everything, don’t you?" She took a step closer, her voice lower but laced with something almost threatening. "You think you can say whatever you want, however you want, without consequences. But let me tell you something, sweetheart—the world doesn’t work that way. I don’t work that way."

"Maybe that’s the problem," you shot back, refusing to back down. "You don’t work. You just… control. You want to control everything around you. Everyone. Including me."

For a moment, Agatha remained silent, her breathing heavy. It seemed like she was about to say something, but then, with a sudden movement, she took a step back and opened the door.

"Get back to work." Her voice was sharp, but with a slight tremor that you almost didn’t notice. "Now."

Without waiting for a response, Agatha left, shutting the door behind her with a dry snap. You stood there, alone, your heart still racing, your emotions tangled—anger, frustration, confusion. It felt like a storm had swept through the small space and left everything upside down. And deep down, you knew she felt the same.

You returned to the set with the supplies you had picked up from the storage room—a bucket, a rag, and a broom. Your heart was still pounding from the confrontation with Agatha, but you tried to focus on what needed to be done. It was better to clean up the shattered glass quickly and return to the invisibility that used to be so comforting.

As you knelt to start gathering the scattered shards, the usual hum of activity on set continued, but you didn’t miss the way Agatha, from her chair, was watching you. She sat with her legs crossed, jaw still tight, and seemed more focused on you than on anything happening around her.

"Are you going to take all day with that?" Her voice cut through the air, drawing everyone's attention.

You froze for a moment, feeling the weight of their stares. Trying to ignore the heat rising to your face, you answered softly, "I'm almost done."

"Almost done?" Agatha stood from her chair, the sound of her heels echoing as she walked toward you. "There’s still water on the floor, shards everywhere... Does that look ‘almost done’ to you?"

Your fingers tightened around the rag, embarrassment washing over you. "I... I'm going as fast as I can."

"It's not enough." Agatha stopped beside you, looking down. Her posture was intimidating, every word laced with something almost cruel. "If you can’t handle a simple task like this efficiently, maybe you’re in the wrong place."

Your stomach twisted, but you didn’t respond. You knew that any words would only make things worse.

"Need some help, sweetheart?" Wanda’s voice carried from across the set, clearly taunting. A few people chuckled, but you felt your face burn even more.

"No, Wanda. She doesn’t need help," Agatha replied, turning slowly to face the actress. "She needs focus. And maybe a little shame."

Wanda let out a soft, ironic laugh, shrugging as she settled back into her chair.

Agatha turned her gaze back to you, her eyes locked onto yours. "If you don’t finish in five minutes, I’ll do it myself. And I guarantee, you won’t like what happens after that."

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her stare and everyone else's. Everything in you screamed to run, but instead, you lowered your head and kept cleaning, your hands trembling slightly as you hurried to finish.

Agatha stepped away, but not before whispering, just for you to hear, "I hope this teaches you something."

By the time you finished, your hands were red from scrubbing the floor, and your pride had once again been trampled. But you knew this wasn’t about the glass or the water. It was about control. It was always about control.

As you cleaned, a larger shard of glass slipped from the rag and sliced into the side of your hand. A small "ah" of pain escaped, but you quickly muffled the sound, watching the blood trickle down your palm. The cut wasn’t deep, but enough to throb—a physical reminder of what you felt inside.

You held onto the shard, pressing it against the wound, as if the physical pain was a necessary punishment. This is what you deserve, you thought. A failure, a disappointment. To your family, to Agatha, to everyone. When the blood began to drip onto the floor, you let go of the glass and quickly wiped it up, tucking your bleeding hand into your pocket as you finished.

Yelena appeared out of nowhere, as she always did, snapping her fingers at you. "Are you done here? Great, because we need you to adjust the script. Now."

You followed her in silence, pressing the rag against your hand as you walked. When you reached the small table covered in scattered drafts, Yelena barely gave you time to breathe before pointing at a scene. "This dialogue is... how do I put this delicately? Horrible. Fix it."

You looked at the paper. It was a scene featuring the character Wanda had mocked earlier. An unexpected determination filled you.

With your injured hand gripping the pen, you started writing. You adjusted the dialogues, added layers to the character, gave her depth, strength—something no one could call "weak" again. You were so focused that you barely noticed the blood smearing onto the paper, leaving crimson stains along the margins.

By the time you finished, the day was almost over. You handed in the revised script and left for the bus stop, finally letting the cool night air hit your face.

You stood on the sidewalk, the weight of the day's decisions crashing down all at once. Where to go? To your family, who would likely offer only more judgment and disappointment? Or to Agatha and Rio’s mansion, where suffocating control was the only constant in your life?

Before you could decide, the sound of tires echoed down the street, and a sleek black Audi pulled up in front of you. The window rolled down, revealing the two faces that had become a constant torment in your mind.

Agatha, her steel gaze locked on you, and Rio, in the passenger seat, her expression filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

"Get in." Agatha’s voice was firm, yet so low it almost felt like a warning.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. But the two women kept staring, as if there was no other option but to obey.

The Audi came to a smooth stop, but you already had your hand on the door handle before the engine even turned off. You stepped out without looking back, without waiting for anything. You just wanted to get to your room, close the door, bury your face in Lucky’s warm fur, and pretend—if only for a moment—that none of this was happening.

The air inside the mansion felt heavy, or maybe it was just you, carrying the weight of the day on your shoulders. You climbed the first few steps of the staircase, your heartbeat quickening, but a familiar voice pulled you back like a chain.

"Hey, hey, young lady. Not so fast."

Rio stood in the middle of the hall, one hand on her hip, the other pointing at you like she was stopping traffic.

"Rio, please..." Your voice came out weak, barely a whisper, as you kept your gaze lowered.

"Come here." It wasn’t a request.

You sighed, stepping down reluctantly as she approached. Lucky, who had rushed down to greet you, now lingered at the bottom of the stairs, his tail wagging slowly, as if sensing the tension in the air.

"Let me see," she said, tilting her head slightly to the side, indicating she wanted a better look at your face.

"I'm fine." You tried to turn away, but she wasn’t fooled.

Rio raised an eyebrow, her firm hand catching your chin. "That doesn’t look like 'fine' to me."

You bit your lower lip, momentarily forgetting about the cut there—until the sting made you wince. Rio noticed the movement, and before you could react, her touch was already there, right at the sore spot, gentle but firm enough to make you stop.

"Don't do that." She said, her tone low but loaded with authority.

"It's nothing," you murmured, trying to escape her intense scrutiny. "It was just a… mistake."

Rio remained silent for a moment, her brown eyes locked onto yours. Then, she sighed, but she didn’t seem entirely convinced. "A mistake, huh? That’s not what Agatha told me."

The blue-eyed woman stood behind Rio, arms crossed, her posture impenetrable.

"And what does she know?" You growled, resentment throbbing in your head.

"Don't go there, girl." Agatha warned, her tone dangerous.

Before Rio could press you further, Lucky came running down the stairs, his golden fur gleaming under the soft hall light. He leaped onto you with an enthusiasm that made your defenses crumble for a brief moment.

"See?" You crouched to hug him, your voice attempting to sound casual as you buried your face in his fur. "Everything's fine now."

Rio crossed her arms, watching the scene for a moment before shaking her head. "This isn't over, young lady. But... go ahead. I need to talk to Aggie."

The nickname caught you off guard.

You froze for a second, your hand stopping mid-stroke in Lucky’s fur, the background noise of the hall fading into a dull hum in your head. It was an intimate name, sliding from Rio’s mouth with ease, effortlessly, as if it belonged to her. And, well, maybe it did.

Of course, they had nicknames for each other. Of course, there was familiarity between them. You knew that. You had no right to feel anything about it. Yet, a bitter taste spread in your throat, something uncomfortable and inexplicable burning deep in your stomach.

You forced out a light laugh, pushing a smile onto your face as you stood up, ignoring the unease pulsing inside you.

"Good luck with that," you muttered, trying to sound indifferent.

But as you walked away, the word kept circling in your mind, repeating like an irritating echo.

Aggie.

You picked Lucky up and climbed the stairs, relief mixing with the certainty that your confrontation with Rio and Agatha was far from over.

[...]

Agatha was in the office, the silence broken only by the sound of the wall clock. The soft glow of the lamp made the room feel almost cozy, but the tension in the air was palpable. She sat in her favorite armchair, legs crossed, fingers drumming against the upholstered armrest, creating a steady, almost irritating rhythm. In front of her lay the script. A revised version—a text you had worked tirelessly on.

Reluctant but curious, she picked up the page and started reading. Her blue eyes scanned the words with speed and precision, her furrowed brow indicating both concentration and critique.

Wanda’s character wasn’t the conventional heroine everyone knew. She was an antihero—complex, driven by something that transcended a mere thirst for power. She was a devastated woman, determined, relentless.

Before, she had simply been a mother fighting to get her children back. Now, the protagonist was more than just a mother. She was a woman. A woman who would discover her place in her universe—and in every other.

Agatha let out a sigh. Even with her ego bruised and irritation simmering beneath her skin, she couldn’t deny your talent. The words on the page had a depth that had been missing before, as if you had finally grasped what was needed to capture the essence of the story.

She kept reading, fingers lightly tapping against the wooden desk as she absorbed Wanda’s journey. It wasn’t about being a hero or a villain—it was about being human. She was a woman who knew the pain of loss, the weight of failure, and the strength that came from rebuilding—not just for herself, but to reshape the world around her.

She no longer wanted power just for herself. She wanted power to create a space where she could finally exist as she was, without the crushing expectations of who she was supposed to be. To live, to love, to lose—without the world watching and judging. Deep down, the protagonist’s struggle was for freedom—freedom from pain, from obligation, from the invisible chains of someone who had always been expected to save others and never herself.

Agatha leaned back in her chair, taking in the evolution of the story. It wasn’t about the children, or revenge. It wasn’t just about redeeming her mistakes or overcoming her traumas. It was about the simple, yet profound, desire to be whole. A woman who could find her own identity in a universe constantly trying to mold her.

That was when Agatha noticed something different. At the end of the page, where the ideas were scribbled with urgency, there were smudges of ink… and drops of something red.

She raised an eyebrow, bringing the paper closer to the lamp’s light. Blood. Not much, but enough to alarm her.

"What the..." she murmured, her eyes narrowing. She knew you had been intensely focused on rewriting the script, but she hadn’t expected you to get hurt in the process. Or maybe… the wound was deeper than it seemed.

Rio entered without knocking, her gaze immediately landing on her wife. She didn’t need to ask to understand what was happening. She knew that heavy silence, that tension in Agatha’s jaw that betrayed her more than any words could.

"You’re going to tear the page if you keep gripping it like that," Rio said, her voice light but firm.

Agatha dropped the pages onto the desk but didn’t look at Rio. "I don’t want to talk about it." She leaned back in her leather chair, letting out a tired sigh.

"You never do," Rio replied, closing the door behind her and slowly walking to the couch on the other side of the office. She sat down, observing Agatha for a moment before continuing. "But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to."

Agatha let out a short, sharp sigh, picking up her wine glass just to swirl the liquid inside. She hadn’t taken a sip yet. "She should… know her place. Things have rules, Rio. Order."

Rio raised an eyebrow, resting her elbow on the back of the couch and propping her chin on her hand. "Rules? Or is it your wounded ego?"

Agatha finally looked at her, blue eyes flashing with something between irritation and frustration. "You think that’s what this is? Ego? I’m trying to protect her. Everything I do is to keep her safe."

"I know that." Rio’s voice softened. "I know, my love. But you and I both know that’s not the only thing bothering you. You want her to see you, to understand. And when she doesn’t, you shut down. You get like this."

Agatha pressed her lips together, staring back at her wine. Rio was right, but admitting it was out of the question. She wasn’t going to say out loud what she felt—the infuriating need to be understood, to be... accepted by you.

Rio stood up, walking over to her. She stopped beside the armchair and crouched slightly to meet Agatha’s gaze. "Listen, we’ll handle this. I’ll talk to her. I’ll ask her to apologize."

Agatha laughed, but it was dry, humorless. "You think that will fix it? She’ll apologize just to please me, but what she truly thinks won’t change."

"Maybe not." Rio admitted, resting her hand gently on Agatha’s knee. "But she’s trying. You see that. I see that. And maybe you need to be a little less… Agatha Harkness, Hollywood Director with her."

That earned a barely-there smile from Agatha, the corner of her lips lifting for a second before vanishing. She finally took a sip of her wine, looking at Rio with a mixture of exasperation and affection.

"You make me too soft," she murmured.

Rio shrugged, smiling. "Someone has to."

Agatha took a deep breath, shaking her head. “Fine. Talk to her. But if she shows up with that attitude again…”

“I know, I know,” Rio interrupted, raising her hands. “You’re going to remind me that you don’t have the patience for it.”

Agatha didn’t reply. She simply took another sip of her wine as Rio got up. But deep down, Agatha knew it wasn’t just patience she lacked. It was something deeper, something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

You were sitting on the bed, holding Lucky in your arms as he rested calmly on your lap. Your fingers absentmindedly stroked his soft fur, but your mind kept replaying the events of the day like a cruel film.

You wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come—caught in the tight knot lodged in your throat. Lucky gazed up at you as if he understood the weight you carried, pressing closer, offering the only comfort that felt real in that moment.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your spiral. You hesitated, turning toward the sound. “Who is it?” your voice came out weak, trembling.

“It’s us,” Rio’s voice was calm, yet filled with concern.

Slowly, you rose from the bed. The black cat leapt off your lap, settling at the edge of the mattress. When you opened the door, they were standing there. Rio held a small stuffed bunny in her arms, her expression shifting between tenderness and barely restrained anger. Agatha stood beside her, arms crossed, her posture rigid—but her blue eyes carried a softness you hadn’t expected.

Rio extended the plush toy to you. “We brought this. Thought it might help Lucky keep you safe,” she said, her voice laced with warmth.

Your eyes welled up as you took the stuffed animal. You hugged it to your chest, as if that simple gesture could shield your wounded heart. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely there.

Rio stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She placed her hands on your shoulders, lowering her head slightly to meet your eyes. “I think you know why we’re here, don’t you?”

“I… I’m fine,” you lied, trying to keep yourself together.

Rio didn’t buy it. Her gaze hardened, but there was patience in it. “You don’t look fine, sweetheart. Why don’t you tell us what happened?”

The words got stuck in your throat for a moment, but when they finally came out, they poured in an uncontrollable flood. You told them about the slap from your father, the insults from your brothers, how every word felt like it crushed you a little more, making you feel like you were less than nothing. The tears fell freely this time, and you didn’t even try to hold them back.

You curled into her arms, sobbing softly. “I didn’t want to be a problem… I just… I just wanted him to like me…” Your voice was small, broken, almost childlike. As if, in that moment, the weight of being strong had finally crumbled, leaving only the most vulnerable version of you behind.

Rio stayed silent as you spoke, but her eyes darkened, her jaw clenched tightly. When you were done, she pulled you into a firm embrace—one that felt like both protection and comfort. “He has no right to treat you like that,” she said, her voice low and filled with restrained fury. “If I could, I would—”

“Rio,” Agatha interrupted, her voice soft but firm. She placed a hand over Rio’s, squeezing lightly, as if grounding her back to reason.

Rio exhaled sharply, still visibly furious, but she stepped back slightly, allowing Agatha to move closer.

You clung to her as if she were an anchor, searching for solace in the warmth of her embrace. And that was when you turned to Agatha, who remained silent near the door.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice unsteady. “For the way I acted. For being insolent. I… I was just trying to cope with everything, and I took it out on you.”

Agatha held your gaze, her jaw tightening—but there was something in her eyes that seemed to… crack. She took a deep breath, finally uncrossing her arms. “You had a hard day,” she said, her tone softer than you expected. “But you don’t have to carry this alone.”

Rio smiled beside you. “Exactly. You have us, you know?”

You only nodded, your heart still heavy but starting to feel a sliver of relief. Then, Agatha took a step forward, her eyes locking onto your hand. She seemed to be searching for something.

“What’s this?” she asked, an unexpected hint of concern in her voice.

You followed her gaze and noticed the cut on your finger, the dried blood surrounding it. “Oh, this? Just a scratch,” you said dismissively. “I cut myself while cleaning the set.”

Agatha narrowed her eyes, reaching for your hand before you could pull away. She examined the cut closely, her expression shifting—subtly, but enough that you noticed.

“Just a scratch?” she murmured, almost to herself.

“Yes. It’s nothing,” you said quickly, trying to brush it off. You pulled your hand back.

The tension in the room thickened, pressing down like an invisible force. The air itself felt heavier.

Then, Agatha sat beside you on the bed, her fingers wrapping around your hand with an unyielding grip. The heat of her palm pressed against yours—both intimate and intimidating.

She squeezed your wounded finger, and a sharp sting shot through you as fresh blood welled up again, warm and thick. You inhaled sharply, a quiet hiss of pain escaping before you could stop it. Agatha’s gaze followed the crimson trail, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable. It was as if time had stopped. The entire world faded away, leaving only the two of you and this moment—charged with something unspoken, something you couldn’t name.

“Agatha…” you murmured, confusion and nervousness coloring your voice as you searched her face for answers.

She didn’t respond. Her eyes remained locked onto the blood trickling from your finger, mesmerized, as if each drop held some kind of spell over her. Slowly, as if moving through a trance, she lifted your hand to her lips, her breath ghosting over your skin.

Then, she pressed a delicate kiss against the wound—her mouth warm and soft against the sting of the cut.

The pain mingled with something else, something deeper. A shiver ran down your spine, electric and uncontrollable. It was wrong, almost wicked, but impossible to ignore—a pleasure disguised, slipping beneath the surface like a dark secret that refused to stay buried.

You froze.

The gesture was so unexpected, so laced with silent sensuality, that your breath caught in your throat. But before you could process it—before you could react—she did something that stole every ounce of air from your lungs.

Her lips parted, and with slow, deliberate intent, she took your wounded finger into her mouth—sucking softly at the blood.

Your heart pounded, a frantic drum against your chest. Heat surged up your face, burning your cheeks, and a strange, unmistakable pulse began to throb in places you barely dared to acknowledge. It was… confusing. Incendiary.

Why did Agatha look so irresistible with your blood on her lips? Was it wrong to think that?

Agatha let out a low sound, something between a groan and a growl—possessive, predatory. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if savoring a rare and forbidden wine, before opening them again, darker now, more intense.

When she finally pulled her finger from her mouth, her breathing was slightly uneven, as if she herself were dealing with something greater than she could control.

“This…” she murmured, her voice low and husky, each word dripping with satisfaction. “My good girl.”

The satisfied purr in her tone sent a sharp pull through you, heat spreading in an unbearable wave. You tried to breathe, but the air was thick, too heavy with an energy you couldn’t understand—an energy that consumed every inch of your body.

Good girl. Good girl. Good girl.

The words echoed in your mind, spiraling in an endless loop, trapping you in a whirlwind of unknown sensations. A part of you wanted to resist, but the thought of hearing those words again, spoken in that low, possessive voice, made your skin prickle and your resolve waver. It was like a drug you didn’t know you needed, but one you were already beginning to crave.

Agatha leaned in even closer, her face so near that you could feel her breath—warm, provocative—against your skin. She brushed her cheek against yours, like a lion marking its prey, staking her claim, making it clear that you belonged to her. Her scent was intoxicating, heavy, and the way she purred seemed to seep into every fiber of your being.

“You’re so delicious,” she murmured, her voice thick with something impossible to resist.

But the moment shattered when Rio stirred on the other side of the bed. Her body was rigid, as if she were exerting immense effort to restrain herself. Her eyes were fixed on the two of you, lips slightly parted, her breathing heavy.

She looked… torn, as if part of her wanted to stop everything while another part was being dragged into the same current of desire. Her fingers dug into her own arms, but the way her gaze burned was just as ravenous as Agatha’s.

Her breath was uneven, almost panting, and her fingers tightened against her arms as if the pressure could keep the growing heat at bay.

The look in her eyes had changed—raw, hungry, a desire she was trying to suppress but that slipped through in every small movement. Her chest rose and fell in an erratic rhythm, and a bead of sweat trailed down the curve of her neck, betraying the effort to keep herself in check.

Rio leaned forward slightly, as if something unseen was pulling her closer, her lips parting as she took a deep breath, trying to regain control. But it was impossible to ignore the way her eyes lingered a second too long on the cut on your finger, on Agatha’s lips, on the glistening sheen still visible there.

Desire hung thick in the air, an undeniable heat radiating from her body, flooding the room.

She let out a rough sigh—almost a stifled moan—and uncrossed her arms, her fingers hesitant but now free, sliding along the side of her thigh as she shifted, as if needing an outlet for all that energy. Her composed facade was unraveling, and the way she wet her lips while looking at you made the space feel even tighter, more suffocating.

It was as if Rio were standing on a battlefield—torn between the need to hold herself back and the irresistible urge to give in to whatever was consuming her. And in that moment, her gaze was so intense that you felt stripped bare beneath it, exposed to something both overwhelming and inescapable.

“Agatha…” Rio finally spoke, her voice low, but thick with something that vibrated in the charged air of the room.

Agatha turned her head slowly, still holding your hand in a firm, calculated grip—her fingers cold against your feverish skin. It wasn’t a gesture of comfort, but of control, of warning. The look she gave Rio was a brewing storm, a silent clash of wills, as if words were unnecessary when so much could be said with just their eyes.

For long, heavy seconds, silence stretched between them—thick with tension, with something that made your chest tighten and the air feel scarce.

Then, abruptly, Agatha let go of your hand, almost as if the contact itself were a threat to her.

What she did next was cold and ruthless. She pushed you back against the headboard, her fingers barely grazing your skin in the process, yet the gesture was enough to make you feel small, vulnerable—like something she could discard with the slightest touch.

The look she gave you before turning away was disorienting—a blend of disdain and something else. Something that made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t explain.

She walked toward the door without hurry, but each step landed like a blow in the silence.

Before leaving, Agatha glanced at Rio—an exchange so intense it seemed to set fire to the space between them. Then, without hesitation, she left, the door clicking shut behind her with quiet finality.

You sat there, frozen, feeling the ghost of her touch burning where her fingers had been.

But Rio didn’t move immediately. She stood by the bed, shoulders tense, her breathing uneven.

There was something in her that looked ready to shatter—a raw need for control mixed with a frustration she had no place to put. It was as if the silent battle with Agatha still echoed inside her, but what she felt for you was something that went beyond all of that.

“Rio, what—” you started, but she cut you off.

"Sleep.”

Her voice was firm, but there was a faint tremor in it, as if holding herself back took more effort than she wanted to admit. Rio turned and left, without looking back, leaving you alone in the empty room.

But she didn’t truly leave—her presence lingered, the warmth of her body, the weight of everything left unsaid.

You leaned back against the headboard, your heart pounding out of rhythm, your thoughts a chaotic mess.

The subtle scent of Rio still clung to the air, blending with something darker, something addicting that seemed to come from Agatha.

Sleep? Impossible.

Agatha’s touch, Rio’s gaze, the heavy silence wrapping around everything—how could anyone possibly find peace after this?

~*~

Gimme my valentine gift, gimme your reactions :)

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[m00nkissedlover]

・｡A Drunk Valentine 💝

You've ordered: a dark chocolate liquor donut! enjoy!

"But, hey, what can you do? I'm a touchy feely fool~"

Rafayel x reader | word count: 1,059 words

Summary: you accidentally leave out liquor chocolates...what's the worst that could happen? 💝

Warnings: mentions of liquor chocolates, rafayel gets a little tipsy (i imagine him as a lightweight-), mild spice (MDNI). not really a warming, but lowkey clingy rafayel 🤍

Note: my first love and deepspace fic! i haven't played the game (yet), so if anything in this fic seems inaccurate, feel free to (respectfully) let me know. happy valentine's day! 💕

Your Valentine's Day with your boyfriend was rather eventful and warmed your heart to its core. First thing in the morning, you woke up to a pleasant and delicious breakfast in bed. After feeding each other and sneaking kisses, the two of you relaxed in bed for the majority of the day, just enjoying each other's presence.

Later on, Rafayel took you out for a lavish dinner, set right by the ocean. And at the end of it all, you two exchanged gifts. He gave you the gift he'd been working on for weeks on end: a gorgeous painting of you as a merperson. You gave him clay figures you sculpted to look just like the two of you. The night ended off with you and Rafayel playing around in the ocean, splashing each other and having an all around good time.

You two finally made your way back home, stepping into your cozy shared apartment. You had dried off with the towels Rafayel had in the car, but your skin still begged for a shower.

"I'll be right back, I'm gonna go get in the shower." you told your boyfriend, getting a thumbs up in response.

As you disappeared down the hallway, Rafayel floated around the apartment, looking for something to hold his attention until you got back. His eyes soon settled upon two boxes of chocolate, one blue and one red. There weren't any names or labels on them, both boxes filled with the same chocolates.

Surely, you wouldn't mind if Rafayel snuck a few, right? After all, you two were probably going to eat them together after your showers.

---

You exited your shared bedroom, all cozy in your pajamas. Now all you needed was for Rafayel to shower and you two could spend the rest of Valentine's Day cuddling and watching a movie.

"Rafayel, the shower's free!" you announced, walking down the hallway. Usually, you'd already hear him making his way down the hall, but this time, you didn't get a response at all.

"Rafayel?" you called out, hearing a faint mumbling from the living room.

There you saw him, slumped onto the couch, his cheeks flushed and eyes half lidded. He was giggling and mumbling something incoherent, his fingers stained with a bit of...brown? Your eyes traveled down to where the blue box of chocolates sat, wide open with half the box gone.

"Rafayel, how many of these did you eat?" you asked, rushing over and taking the box.

"Why are you so...worried about it? Aren't those...for me?" he asked, his speech a bit slured.

"No! They're liquor filled chocolates, for my boss!" Rafayel raised an eyebrow, scooting over to where you kneeled near the couch.

"You...bought chocolate...for your boss?" he questioned, a frown on his lips.

"Of course I did. My boss gave everyone chocolate yesterday and I just wanted to return the favor." you said, sighing as you looked at the half empty box of chocolates. "I'll have to buy another one."

"Why are you...buying chocolates for...another man?" Rafayel asked, reaching over to tilt your chin up.

You almost burst out laughing at his question, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers. "Rafayel, my boss is a woman."

The purple haired male blinked at you, him frown now turning into a pout. "But maybe she-"

"She's married. And has kids." you said, already knowing what your boyfriend was thinking. He was so clingy when he was drunk, especially right now.

"Come on, let's go get you in the shower, and then we'll get you sobered up, okay?" you hummed, cupping his cheeks in your hands. You couldn't deny how cute he looked, all drunk and blushing and pouty.

As hard as it was to lug a six foot drunk man to the bathroom, you somehow managed to get him there. You let go of him to turn on the shower, turning around to take your leave.

"Let me know if you need anything." you said, sneaking a glance at him unbuttoning his shirt.

Before you knew what was happening, Rafayel pulled you into the shower with him, clothes and all. He pressed you back against the frosty glass, his knee moving to slip between your legs.

"What the hell?" you gasped, your own cheeks starting to heat up. He didn't say anything, just stared at you with those big and beautiful eyes of his.

"Rafayel, this is not the time for this. You need to shower and-!" He quickly silenced you with a kiss, his lips slowly moving against yours. Honestly, you didn't really mind, your senses going numb as you melted into it.

You could taste the sweet chocolate and bitter liquor on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, his grip on your hips tightening. Who would've thought that your Valentine's day would end with a steamy make out session, fully clothed, and in the shower? Obviously not you.

Rafayel let out a soft noise as he moved from your lips to kiss down your neck, a hand coming up to pull down the collar of your shirt. Your head was spinning, the warm steam enveloping you, your now wet clothes sticking to your skin, the smell of Rafayel's cologne in the air. All of it sent your heart into a mad frenzy. And you just wanted more.

You tangled your hand into his hair, sighing softly as his lips pressed to your collarbone. You were starting to feel warm and tingly all over, hearing his deep breathing in your ear.

"Rafayel." you breathed out, your eyes fluttering shut. He continued to kiss over your skin, his movements becoming a bit slower. Then, you felt him still against you.

"Hello? Rafayel?" you murmured, nudging his head with your shoulder. Oh, look at that. He got you all worked up only to fall asleep right in the middle of it! And this was why he didn't drink often.

You somehow managed to get yourself and Rafayel out of the shower and into warm and dry clothes. He sluggishly flopped into bed with you, curling up to your chest like a cat would and falling asleep almost immediately.

His soft snores made you smile as you ran your fingers through his hair, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

What an eventful evening.

Note to self: write names on chocolate boxes next year. 💝

© m00nkissedlover, 2025

[fairybluedreams]

Vote HTTYD!!

Hiiiiiii, back on my campaigning bs. Here's why you should vote for How to Train Your Dragon in the @book-was-better tournament!

Disclaimer btw I'm not saying the first movie is a bad movie or bad story as it's own separate thing -- I'm saying it's a bad Adaptation of a book series -- in that it does nothing to Adapt the book series into a film series, just uses the name and goes off to do it's own thing. Other explanations and analysis of this aspect under the "how to train your dragon propaganda" tag in the tournament itself.

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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

Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

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

A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

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

You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

------------------ 

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[lqveharrington]

steve harrington - you are in love <3

congrats on 2k!

You Are In Love | S.H.

summary: you and steve have been best friends forever, but overtime, you both realize that there's something more to your friendship than you both thought there was.

pairing: steve harrington x hopper!reader

includes: fluff, minimal usage of Y/N, oblivious idiots, kissing, el and reader are siblings, robin and max play match maker

a/n: cutie patootie stevie! (rules for celebration here!)

Steve Harrington was the type of man girls would go crazy over. From the way he behaved to the way he dressed, they would do anything to get his attention. Luckily for you, he deemed you to be his best friend since childhood. When Tommy and Carol whined about you always hanging around them in high school, Steve would swiftly change the subject. He really only liked hanging out with you anyway.

When you both graduated, something shifted between the two of you. Without the hindrance of Tommy and Carol, you and Steve were free to do whatever you wanted. Whenever you would hang around him, it felt like time would stop. He kept you on your toes despite knowing him for so long.

Weekly dinners around Hawkins during the year would soon become a tradition between the two of you. In your eyes they were friendly dates, but to the kids, you were practically dating. From the whispers as you hung back with him when taking the kids around the mall to the silver necklace he bought you during the summer — they saw something you and Steve couldn't.

They had to do something about it. Fortunately for them, you both made it quite easy.

"Harrington, are you taking me to dinner today or should we reschedule?" You hop onto the counter of Family Video, crossing your legs and smiling brightly at him. "Henderson told me you might have to drive him home after his DND thing or whatever."

"First of all," He started and pulled your legs to the side, sending you a bored look. "I'm at work and you can't bother me." You jokingly pout and follow his movements, watching him restock the bowl of candies at the front. "Secondly, we're still on for dinner. Dustin can get a ride from Munson."

You throw your head back and laugh, "Ah yes, the shared custody of your child."

He rolled his eyes and looked past your head, narrowing his eyes at Max and Eleven. "Why did the girls want to come here again?"

"Uhm, they said they were checking out a new movie that came out." You shrug and slide off the counter. You look in their direction to find them giggling and whispering about something you almost wanted to know about. Almost. "Anyway, don't miss me too much. I'll see you in a few hours, Harrington."

Steve pressed a kiss to the side of your head and pushed a stray piece of hair away from your face. "I'll see you in a bit, Hopper."

You grinned at him and sent him one last wave before rounding up the girls, dragging them back to your car. Before you could even ask them to buckle up, they began hounding you with questions you never expected them to ask. One of the more odd questions sticking out the most.

"Have you ever slept with Steve?" Eleven asked, making you whip around with wide eyes and mouth agape. Her own eyes widened in fear and looked at you with concern. "What?"

Your face flushed a dark red and you began to stutter over your words, unsure of where the question even originated from. "Well, I— No, I haven't but I'm— I'm sorry? What's happening? Do you even know what that means?"

"That you sleep in the same bed as him." She tilted her head and giggled at your red face. "Is that not what that means?"

Max shook her head but found it all amusing, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows at you. "You seem a little flustered, Hopper. What's up with that?"

"Nothing." You glare at her from your rear view as you pull out of the parking and begin the drive to her house. When Eleven still stared in confusion, you sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Yes, I have slept in the same bed as Steve before. And not like that, Mayfield."

"What?"

You shake your head and follow the road down, eyes occasionally flickering up to look at the girls who were still giggling. You didn't understand what they were trying to get at. You've always been able to sleep in the same bed as Steve since an incident years ago, but that was the extent of it all. Sure, you would occasionally sleep in one of his shirts and he would make you breakfast in the mornings, but that was it.

"Have you ever been on a date, Y/N?" Eleven asked again and fiddled with the ends of her sweater, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. "Like the ones me and Mike go on?"

"Uh," You signal and stop at a red light, fingers tapping the steering wheel in an effort to keep your cool. "I have, but it's been a while since I've been on a date."

As you turn, Eleven makes another comment that nearly makes you swerve right off the road. "I thought you and Steve were dating."

You choke on your spit and grip the wheel harder, face redder than Max's hair. Although you knew your sister's words were somewhat innocent, you knew the other girl was behind all the questioning. Steve was nothing but a friend to you. Your best friend. It would be weird to think of him as anything other than that, right?

Since childhood, he was nothing but your best friend. Sometimes you couldn’t help but think what would happen if anything else came out of it, but only in your dreams. When you realized how quiet you were, you silently cursed yourself for staying silent for too long as the girls came to their own conclusion.

"He kisses you a lot." Max drawled and bit back a smirk when your face reddens again, the sight nearly making her laugh once more. "Like more than you study for your exams in college—"

"What will it take for you two to be quiet for the rest of the ride?" You continue to glare at the red-head in the backseat and squint when she opened her mouth. "And your answer will not be money."

Max sighed and looked at Eleven, their eyes meeting and silently communicating with each other. They grinned wickedly and looked over at you, tone overly sweet when they answered your question.

"Admit you're in love with Steve Harrington."

"Oh, Stevie!" Robin grinned widely as she sauntered back in from the break room, leaning back against the counter. She met his confused eyes and tilted her head, still wearing a mischievous grin. "I have a tiny, little question for you."

Steve dug through the boxes underneath the table and waved his hand, barely listening to the girl. "Which is?"

"Could I just — I dunno — take a peek at your wallet?” She asked and pursed her lips to stop from laughing when she saw his incredulous expression peek from underneath the counter. “I just want to make sure my assumptions are right.”

"About what?" Steve sighed in exasperation and ran his fingers through his hair, praying that his hair still looked perfect after how many times he had done it.

"Just give me your stupid wallet." Robin huffed and snatched the leather from his hands. She scrunched her nose at him before opening the wallet, gasping when she found what she was looking for. "Oh my gosh."

Steve creased his brows and looked at the contents of his wallet. There was nothing but cash, his license, cards, and picture he’s had since high school. If Robin was planning on stealing, she picked the wrong day.

"What?"

"You do have a picture of Y/N in your wallet!" Robin all but squealed like a child, causing the customers in the store to look over at the commotion.

Steve sent them a strained smile before grabbing his wallet back from Robin and tucking it away, muttering quiet obscenities to the girl. Robin rolled her eyes, but the smirk that curled her lips overtook her emotions. He knew that some kind of electricity between the two oblivious idiots.

"You like her!" She spoke in a sing-song voice, lightly punching his shoulder. Robin laughed in excitement and shook her head before pausing, turning to look at Steve like a behavioral analyst. "Unless it's something more."

He looked to his left and to his right before raising a brow at her. He would never admit it out loud, but somewhere along the line he fell for you. Hard. From summer car drives to coffee at midnight — you were the one for him. Yet he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.

When Steve stayed silent for too long, she started to punch his shoulder in excitement again. It was the silence between asking about love that seemed to trigger everyone today.

"Oh, you're in love! Steve 'the hair' Harrington finally falls in love with his one true love!" She dramatically put a hand to her forehead and leaned back on the counter again. "I thought I would never live to see the day that happens."

He huffed and lightly shoved her, rubbing his hand over his face. "She's my best friend."

"And?" Robin pushed him back and continued to smile, clearly finding his reaction amusing. It wasn’t rare for her to tease him about his dates, but knowing that he was deeply in love with you made it so much more fun. "She clearly likes you too."

"She does?" Steve perked up and rolled his eyes when she winked at him. He flipped her off and pretended to be busy again. “You’re so annoying.”

"Stevie is in love!" She laughed again and sighed softly, tapping her fingers against the counter. "You're going to dinner with her tonight, right?"

He sent her an odd look and nodded, brows furrowing in confusion. "Yeah, what does that—?"

"Confess tonight! I'm sure she loves you too, Harrington." She slammed her palms down onto the counter, once again attracting the customers in the store. Steve sent them another apologetic look before turning his head to glare at the girl. By the end of the day, he swore that they would get a complaint about Robin.

Robin put a hand up to his face when she saw he was going to speak. “And before you back out, the girls and I already made a plan so nothing becomes awkward between the two of you if it fails."

Steve’s eyes widened and pushed her hand out of the way, mind reeling at all the knew information. "Wait what?"

"Nothing!"

After dinner, you both decided to take a walk around the neighborhood. The temperature was perfect and you and Steve had plenty of calories to kill before heading to bed. Besides, you both had unspoken words to say to one another.

"Are you okay? You've been acting strange since you picked me up." You nudged your shoulder with his and tilted your head, eyes worried with concern.

As you walked through the neighborhood, the orange lights from the posts began to flicker on as the sun set in front of you. On instinct, you moved closer to Steve, accommodating to the warmth you were losing. He hid a small smile and pulled you close by the shoulders.

Steve shrugged and kissed the side of your head again. The gears in his head were loudly turning and he wasn’t sure how to make them stop. He met your eyes and smiled softly when you smiled up at him.

"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the new diner?" He nudged his head back toward the diner.

You hummed and tapped your chin in thought, snapping your fingers when you figured out how to put it. "A solid six and a half. They threw us a dirty glare for being too loud, but their milkshakes were perfect."

He raised his brows and chuckled softly when you rolled your eyes at him. You were always such a sucker for strawberry milkshakes. "Yeah?"

"Yes, Harrington.” You send him a teasing smile before extending your arm and flashing him your left hand adorned with the wrapping from the straw wrapper. “I even got to make us our paper rings."

You turned to face him properly and grabbed his left hand, lacing them together to show the matching rings. You went to say something else when you found him already staring at you, making your mind instantly blank.

Steve swallowed and squeezed your hand, taking a step closer to you. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You murmur and take your own step closer until you were chest to chest.

His gaze dropped to your lips before looking back into your eyes, eyes filled with so much emotion. You gave him a curt nod and let him cup your cheek, shutting your eyes when he leaned in.

Your lips met and for the first time, you really believed time truly stopped. It was just you and him on the sidewalk of Hawkins, Indiana. Your own hands came up to grab the lapels of his denim jacket, deepening the kiss when he pulled you impossibly closer.

When you finally pulled away, your mind was still blanking and the first thing you could say was —

"Oh, my strawberry milkshake." You whisper out before groaning, hiding your face in his shoulder. "Now the thing I say after we first kiss will always be strawberry milkshake!"

Steve kisses the top of your head and gently squeezed your waist. "You're cute."

You scoff before looking up, playing with the buttons on his jacket. "Did Robin put you up to this?"

"Yep." He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, narrowing his eyes at you when he realized what Robin meant. "Did the girls?"

"Yep." You sigh and push up on your toes to give him a quick peck. You tilt your head when he smiles, "We're not going to tell them about this and make them feel bad, right?"

"Of course not.” He laced his hands with yours and began the trek back to his car. "We're only best friends after all."

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[bartxnhood]

mayberry | t.o

tyler owens x fem!reader

based on this request: Requesting one, where Tyler and his crew chasing the tornado as casual but there's a twist (it can be a happy or angst ending) what if the tornado they chase was heading to where reader lives, today he was planning on asking her to move on with him after they finished another successful on making the tornado gone yet when he noticed where it was going he drives faster and trying to outrun the tornado.

warnings: descriptions of tornadoes, reader loses her house, blood, cuts.

w/c: 1.8k

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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“shes a pistol, ty. hope you can handle her” javier begins, removing his sunnies and leans against his white truck while looking at tyler across the driveway of your mothers house.

tyler smiles to himself at the mention of you. he looks in his wallet, a picture of you and him at a rodeo. you’re wearing his red flannel and white cowboy hat as you kiss his cheek.

a picture he treasured most. no one knew about this picture in his wallet. it was his own little secret, you didn’t even know he had the polaroid.

tyler and you both majored in meteorology throughout your time in college. storm chasers had a limited dating pool. nobody was willing to chase after these monstrous storms in such a way and then return to laugh about it over a few beers.

that’s why he took such a liking to you.

tyler didn't try to hide his feelings first. he would constantly try to convince you to go out with him or do something else, but you would never accept his advances. you didn't believe that you could put up with his ego.

till you began chasing with him.

since then, you saw a side of him that you didn’t know. tyler was a kind hearted man, caring for the people that fell victim to these storms. he was so intelligent that it made you rethink your own decisions, that was rare.

before you knew it, you started falling for tyler owens. the rest is history.

“i’m thinkin bout asking her to move in with me after we get this storm tonight.” tyler confesses to javier, a sly smirk on his face. javier’s eyebrows raise, cocking his hip to the side and crossing his arms.

“you think she’ll say yes?”

tyler presses his lips into a thin smile, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket where it belongs. “i hope so.” he answers, looking up towards the house.

tyler had decided it was time to take the next step with you. he had been thinking about asking you to move in with him for a while now, and he was sure it was the right decision.

he loved you deeply and couldn’t imagine his life without you. he wanted to wake up next to you every morning, cook breakfast together, and spend evenings cuddled up on the couch watching movies.

the thought of you living together filled him with excitement and joy, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he popped the question.

“guys!” lilly hollers, exiting the rv, running towards the pair. “we have huge activity southeast. we gotta move, now!”

there’s a tension that settled in over the group as they all scrambled to get their things together and radars ready.

tyler’s first thought was you. he takes off, boots stomping in the puddles as he swings the screen door open.

“y/n?” he hollers, taking his sunglasses off.

“up here!” you answer, drying your hair after a shower.

you watch in the mirror as tyler appears in the doorway, “whats up?” you ask, dropping your hand by your sides. “there’s one southeast. big one.” he’s almost grinning hoping to get you excited but his smile drops when you don’t react.

there’s a silence as you begin to rake product through the ends of your hair. “cmon, we don’t wanna miss it. lilly says it’ll touch down in an hour at least.”

“m’not goin” you reply, looking into his eyes from the mirror. “what? whaddya mean?”

“it’s mom” you answer, followed by a sigh. “she’s doing bad again, she’s freaking out over it and i’m just gonna stay with her. the house isn’t in the path so it should be fine” you say, turning to him.

you can see a soft frown on his lips as he looks down at you, “we always chase together.”

you smile sadly, and nod. you let your hand come up and caress his cheek. “i know, darlin. we’ll get the next one i promise.”

you press a quick kiss on his lips, “be safe, baby.” he replies, kissing the top of your head and heading off with the crew.

the atmosphere was thick and heavy with a sense of impending doom as the tornado began to take shape. the clouds churned and wracked, twisting into a massive, menacing funnel cloud. the noise was deafening, a high-pitched roar that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

gusts of wind howled like a beast, tearing at anything in their path. this was no ordinary twister; this was an EF5, the most powerful and destructive tornado there was. it loomed on the horizon, a sinister harbinger of disaster.

tyler, now chasing the storm, was strapped into his well-worn red dodge. his eyes fixed on the churning sky as he chased a massive storm through the southeast landscapes. his truck was a trusted companion, having borne him through countless weather events.

its engine roared confidently as tyler navigated the treacherous terrain, seeking the perfect position to observe the storm up close and capture its raw power. he was fueled by a deep passion for the spectacle of the weather and driven by the adrenalin rush of being in the heart of the swirling chaos.

“you seein this, T?!” boone hollers from the passenger seat. “i’m seein it boone!” he yells back, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

tyler doesn’t remove his eyes from the storm raging in the wheat field, but something feels off. something isn’t right.

“what is it, ty?” javier calls over the radio noticing his decreasing speed. tyler is too mesmerized by the black clouds, he doesn’t reply. “T?” boone calls.

“something’s wrong.” he mumbles, “the path..the path is changing!” he says hurriedly watching the surroundings.

lilly pipes from the backseat, “its moving northwest! heading straight for mayberry!”

“shit.” tyler hits his steering wheel before making a sharp turn, turning around.

“the path is shifting!” boone alerts over the radio.

tyler’s heart launched in his chest watching the twister hurtling towards the small town where you lived. he’d often worried about this, and now his worst nightmare was unfolding before his eyes.

his grip tightened on the steering wheel, and his eyes darkened as he gunned the engine, pushing the red dodge to its limits. he had to get to you, had to make sure you were safe. his mind raced as he calculated how much time he had, the seconds ticking away in an excruciating countdown.

there was no warning, the storm was moving too unpredictably. you should’ve monitored it closer, you should’ve been more prepared.

the house trembled violently as the tornado tore through the neighborhood.

the windows shattered, spraying glass everywhere. the walls creaked and groaned, buckling under the immense pressure of the onslaught.

pictures fell from the walls, their frames splattering on the floor. furniture was hurled around like toys, breaking apart as it smashed into the remaining walls.

“mom!” you holler, staying low to the ground reaching out for her. she takes your hand and you pull her close to your body.

“hold on tight!” you scream.

the two of you huddled together, their screams blending into the cacophony, their eyes wide with terror. outside, the world had become a blur of debris and chaos, the swirling vortex ripping everything apart in its path.

tyler stepped out of his truck followed by boone and lilly. his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he saw the destruction hoping beyond hope that she was safe. but the sight that greeted him was a nightmare. your once-cheerful home had been reduced to a pile of rubble, the remnants of your life scattered among the wreckage. the tornado had ripped through the property, leaving destruction in its wake.

the property wasn’t recognizable, the only way he knew it was your home was your white jeep wrapped around the willow tree.

tyler’s hands come up and run thorough his hair, “oh god..” he breathes. “jesus christ..” boone says just above a whisper.

tyler can’t let his emotions get the best of him. he needed to find you.

“y/n!” he hollers.

“y/n!” lilly screams. “ms.l/n” boone calls for your mom.

tyler pushes his way through the debris, his eyes scanning the rubble for any sign of you.

he continued to pulled lumber, pillars, glass and furniture for what felt like hours. “y/n!” his heart thudding against his chest with every moment that passed. panic clawed at his gut as he continued his desperate search.

finally, he heard a faint sound, like a whimper. he turned, and there you were, buried under a pile of rubble.

his breath caught in his throat as he carefully dug you out, his hands trembling.

as your face came into view, it was smeared with dirt and blood, but your eyes widened with relief as you saw him. “t?” you rasp.

he gently picked you up, cradling you against him like a fragile doll.

"i'm here," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "im here, and you're going to be okay."

you wince, standing on the unstable ground. “mom..” you croak, tears brimming down your eyes again. “she’s down there..”

tyler nods, he looks back at boone and was about to go down and search for her but boone stops him. “i got her.”

boone disappears in the pile of rubble, then he emerges with your mother in his arms. “we need an ambulance!”

tyler nods and leaves you with lilly to call for first responders.

“‘m fine, t.” you say, say in the back of the ambulance. “just makin sure..” he whispered taking your arm in his hands and scanning your skin. he needed to make sure you weren’t seriously injured, even though you were just checked out by ems.

“t..” you sighs as he continues, his hand snow on either side of your face moving your head around still checking. “tyler.” you call him again, this time your hands gripping his wrists.

his eyes meet yours, the sign of tears still staining your cheeks. “i’m okay, i promise” you assure, smiling. “jus glad you made it to me, how’d you know?”

tyler shrugs, “the wind started morning north, learned it from you.” he answers, coming to your side and pulling you in.

you stay there for a while, the sirens flooding your ears and the lights illuminating the place where your home once stood. tyler rubs your shoulders and pulls the emergency blanket tighter around your body.

you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. “is now a bad time to ask if you want to live with me?” he looks down at you.

“what?” you look up at him.

and maybe it wasn’t the right time, but he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to ask you.

“live with me. hell, bring your mom. i don’t care, just..” he reaches for your hand. “i just know that i love you and i want you around even more than you already are.” he laughs lightly, continuing to rub your shoulder.

“i would love to live with you.”

tyler smiles proudly, squeezing you closer to his side.

“now i just needa marry you.”

[thebestsetter]

"If I was a color, I think I'd be yellow"

"Why?"

"Non-important. I just feel it"

He has never seen yellow the same way again. It was everywhere. He looked for it everywhere. And everytime, without fail, he remembered you. A pretty sunflower. Your blinding smile. A little minion figure he saw on the mall. You crying after watching the latest "Despicable Me" movie (and him laughing at your cute stupid crying face). A silly Winnie the Pooh keychain on a crying child's backpack. You talking to the said sad kid you both saw on the street and trying to cheer them up, playing with them and making sure they were smiling, their worries melting away in the speed of light (you'd make such a great mother, he thinks, making his face grow bright red right after). The sun in all of it's glory. You. You. You. You.

You were like a plague infecting his brain and soul. He couldn't focus on anything anymore because you were always running through his head, the sound of your laugh playing inside his mind 24/7 and driving him half insane. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask you why you said to him you were yellow. How did you know? What made you so sure of it? Why you had put him under this spell in which everytime he catches just the smallest and quickest glimpse of yellow, the image of you came flooding his mind and senses? Did you even think about him the same amount of times he thought about you? He didn't know. He couldn't know unless he asked you. And it was not fair. Not fair at all.

"Remember that day you told me you were yellow?"

"Yeah" you said, stopping mid-sip of your milkshake and looking at him with your beautiful a confused face "Yeah, I do. Why?"

"You never gave me an answer to the question I asked you that day" he ignored how the first sentence you said made his heart fluster and his stomach go silly.

"Which question?" How humilliating. He's gonna have to swallow his pride and repeat it. Utterly ridiculous.

"Why?" He couldn't care less about how hurt his ego was right now "Actually, how. How did you know you're yellow?"

"Easy. It's 'cause yellow and purple are opposites, so they look good when put together"

"What?"

"Yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, silly! So they're complementary colors and go well together"

"I know that. But what does purple have to do with you being yellow?"

"You remind me of purple"

And suddenly, he realized yellow has never been alone. Next to the beautiful sunflower, there's a bellflower, that looks gloom when compared to the yellow plant, but basks in the joy it seems to bring nonetheless. Just like you are the one to bring joy to his life. Beside the minion figure, there's a figure of those bad purple minions, and while one is considered pretty, funny and nice, the other one is scary, angry and people tend to avoid them. It reminds him of you two: extroverted and kind you and introverted and rude him. Perfect opposites. Perfect together. He hadn't noticed before, but the child's backpack was purple, and this memory was followed by the the sound of the laughs you and the little fella shared. Kids should always be happy, smiling, harmless and having fun. Comfortable. Safe. In that way, you make him feel like a little kid. Your warm embrace, so protective and oh so motherly. He feels relaxed around you. Overjoyed. And even though he doesn't smile a lot, you always seem to make him want to crack a real, big grin. It must be a superpower of yours. Lastly, the sun, always followed by the moon. Even though they don't "meet" often, when they do, they create one of the prettiest phenomena known to humanity: an eclipse. They're always apart, but when they're together, it's so beautiful that the whole world stops to see.

"That's cringy. And kinda stupid."

"No it's not! We're a perfect duo! Just admit it!!"

"'Course we are"

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you!!"

"I'm not saying it again."

So don't act surprised when your wedding is full of beautiful sunflowers and bellflowers. You should see it coming. They look good together right? Just like you two.

RIN ITOSHI, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, MICHAEL KAISER, Barou Shohei, SAE ITOSHI, TODOROKI SHOTO, SHINSOU HITOSHI, BAKUGOU KATSUKI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TSUKISHIMA KEI (his name's kanji meaning moon is just so-- perfect fot this fic) , Osamu Miya, Suna Rintarou, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + any character you think fits this!!

Curiosity!!!: Bellflowers mean "everlasting love and commitment" in flower language, while sunflowers mean steadfast love!!

Masterlist

Wrote this in the middle of my portuguese class. I hate it. I'm in love with him

[wheneverfeasible]

Bullshit (part 2/3)

Continuation “fix it” of this ficlet where Steve changed himself to try to earn Eddie’s love.

Steve missed his polos.

He missed his light wash jeans, his music, watching his favorite movies, he even missed his stupid plaid walls.

Eddie had laughed at them the first time he’d been in Steve’s room, back before they’d even started dating. Technically they were still there, they were just covered up with posters of bands Steve only knew about because his boyfriend liked them. Eddie had teasingly gifted him a Black Sabbath one back when they had just been friends to give his room more “personality” instead of his mostly undecorated room, which…okay, fair, because Steve had admittedly not done much of it himself just because he couldn’t be bothered.

(And he did, actually, kind of like the poster because it was their own little inside joke. It made him smile when he saw it, even to this day, even if he thought he could still taste the damned demobat sometimes.)

It wasn’t like he really knew much of who he was to begin with. He still had the bowling pin he and Tommy had stolen from the bowling lane their sophomore year (Steve’s idea, though only to impress his friend), and the picture of the car he had bought on a whim because Tommy had said he wanted a car just like it. Any other knickknack had either been gifted or purchased for a similar intent.

Now, that car picture was collecting dust in his closet, replaced by the Black Sabbath poster that Eddie had pinned to the wall slightly askew for ‘aesthetics,’ though it being slightly off-center and at an angle made Steve a little itchy. Soon, however, other posters soon followed, some given to him by Eddie and some he purchased himself after learning what bands Eddie liked, with a large Dio one taking up space by his bed.

Flyers of Corroded Coffin shows or other band merch dotted around the room as well, which he didn’t really mind because he liked supporting his boyfriend, though the clutter and disorganization slightly bothered him. Eddie had grinned at the sight however and called him a ‘real boy now’ for looking like the room of a young man and not a ‘30-something corporate stooge,’ so that would have to be fine too.

But he still missed his room looking like his room, instead of a replica of Eddie’s. It made Eddie feel more comfortable however, so he tried not to think about how it wasn’t his aesthetic at all, because he could learn to like it. He could change for the better. He could be what Eddie wanted. He could be good enough.

Which was why he was confused, staring at the garment box on the kitchen table where he’d been circling car ads in the classifieds, trying to find something cooler than his bimmer. Eddie had come over with a wide grin, sliding a box he recognized from one of the department stores he used to shop at before dating Eddie.

Eddie had proffered it with a flourish, grinning expectantly, practically vibrating with anticipation as Steve had carefully lifted the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal the piece of clothing inside. A polo shirt in a soft, buttery sort of yellow with thick vertical white stripes running vertical over it.

Steve looked up at Eddie with a furrowed brow. “I…you got me a polo?” he questioned, confused and also concerned, knowing the department store was definitely outside of Eddie’s usual price range.

“Yeah!” Eddie confirmed happily, moving to sit in the chair next to Steve, looking down at the soft material Steve had yet to pull from the box. “The check from the gig came through, and I remember you looking at this shirt a couple weeks ago. I’ve been waiting to be buy it ever since.”

Steve blinked at that. He hadn’t known Eddie had caught him admiring the shirt in the window while he and Eddie had been walking around downtown. He felt a flair of panic at the thought, annoyed at himself for slipping up, for reminding Eddie that he was a stupid preppy rich kid. Eddie didn’t look upset though, or at least…he hadn’t. Now his eyes were darting over Steve’s expression with growing worry, chewing on his lower lip.

“Is that…is that all right? Was it a different one you wanted? I-I still have the receipt, we can return it and get the one you wanted,” Eddie rushed to say.

“No,” Steve quickly said, his fingers of one hand tightening slightly on the box while his other reached out of their own accord to slightly touch the shirt within. “I…Eddie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, what this meant. Why would Eddie buy him something like this? “You shouldn’t waste your hard earned money on…something like this.” Shouldn’t waste your money on me, he wanted to say. “It’s your first paying gig.”

Eddie shook his head quickly, an almost embarrassed smile curling his lips with a slight blush. “I wanted to, Stevie. You always buy me things, I wanted to return the favor. You’ve been so supportive of me and I wanted to…I don’t know. Thank you.” He glanced down at the polo with a soft expression, though he did frown a little too afterwards. “I haven’t seen you wear your polos in a really long time,” he murmured quietly.

Steve tensed at Eddie’s words. Of course he hadn’t. Polos weren’t cool. Polos weren’t good enough for Eddie. It was why he was so confused at this gift. He didn’t understand why Eddie would buy him something that wasn’t metal. That wasn’t suitable for his boyfriend.

“I know that you’re experimenting with your style and all, and I won’t deny you’re hot as fuck in these,” Eddie grinned, moving to pinch the loose sleeve of Steve’s tee between his fingers. It was from some band he didn’t actually know before he’d bought the shirt, something called Leatherwolf, though he had bought their tape as well so that he could pretend to be a fan and know some of their songs. “But you look hot in your polos too. I miss them.”

Steve sat up straighter at that, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. Eddie…liked his polos? “Aren’t the polos…kind of lame?” he asked carefully.

Eddie snorted, smiling as he leaned in to press a kiss to Steve’s neck, causing a startled smile to erupt over Steve’s own lips as he squirmed at the slight tickle of Eddie’s lips and hair. “There’s nothing lame about you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, voice roughened with his tease. He pulled back though, a touch of his worry on his expression again. “Do you like it?”

Of course Steve liked it. He loved it. It was exactly the one he had been looking at before, even though he’d tried to hide it, which meant that Eddie really had noticed it and really had been waiting to buy it for him. With his first paycheck from Corroded Coffin’s first real paying gig.

There had been the fear that Eddie’s involvement with the band would limit their options, that no one would want to listen to a band that had a member who was suspected of grisly murders. Eddie had been prepared to step down, to let the others move on without him, had offered it even though Jeff and the others had vehemently opposed the idea. They’d said that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t exist without Eddie and if he wasn’t part of it then they didn’t want to do it anymore.

In a surprise twist that probably shouldn’t have been all that surprising, Eddie’s infamy had actually helped the band. The news of his believed guilt and then later innocence and injury from the actual killer that he had tried to stop had spread even beyond Hawkins, drawing a crowd for their nights performing at The Hideout who began to see more patrons than ever before.

Then they’d been invited to participate in a Battle of the Bands, which they hadn’t won but they’d placed second, and the random shows they’d throw themselves at the quarry or wherever else saw larger crowds than usual, even the one they threw to celebrate Gareth graduating, and they’d even been asked to play at the fair, though it was a free gig.

Then, most recently, someone had approached them after one of their shows and asked to hire them for an event in Indianapolis. A paying event in Indianapolis. With it was the promise of possible future paying gigs as their fanbase grew and spread. There was even talk of a possible scout being at the gig.

Dustin had joked that maybe ‘86 hadn’t been his year, but ‘88 could be, though Eddie had just grinned and denied it, saying that ‘86 had been his year after all. He hadn’t said why, but he gave Steve a secretive smile and reached out to tangle their fingers together.

Steve felt a flare of warmth beneath his skin as he stared down at the polo again, hesitating before giving a brief nod. Eddie’s previously nervous smile bloomed into a joyous one, and he leaned in quickly to plant a smacking kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t prevent his own smile from growing on his lips.

“Thank you, baby,” Steve murmured, sliding a hand over Eddie’s neck to draw him in for a slow kiss. He didn’t know what it meant still, Eddie buying him a polo of all things, but it made him more determined than ever to be good enough for his boyfriend.

When they pulled back, Eddie soft with happiness, Steve made the decision. He needed to go all in if he was to keep Eddie happy. He drew in a deep breath and moved to take Eddie’s hand, his finger lightly tracing one of the scars there.

“I was thinking of growing out my hair. Maybe even dying it. Or maybe shaving i—”

“Don’t you dare!” Eddie interrupted, expression and tone absolutely scandalized as he squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve jumped slightly at the sudden explosion, blinking wide eyes at Eddie, causing the other to flush slightly in embarrassment. “I mean. You can, obviously, if you really want to, it’s your hair after all, but…” Eddie let out a small whine of protest as his gaze moved up to take in Steve’s hair.

Steve self-consciously reached up with his free hand to pass his fingers through his hair, which wasn’t quite as voluminous as he used to style it, but was still the last real testament of his former style. His former personality. The bullshit one.

“I mean,” Steve hedged, glancing away with a small roll of a shoulder in an aborted shrug. “It’s not exactly metal is it?” He looked back at Eddie with a slightly strained smile, rolling his eyes as though in commiseration. “I don’t want to embarrass you by making people think you have a prep for a boyfriend,” he laughed.

Eddie’s expression changed immediately as he stilled almost unnaturally, falling into a blank neutrality, even his eyes shuttering as he slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s grip. The response caused Steve to start panicking, worrying he’d messed up in some way, that he reminded Eddie of all the ways that he was lacking.

Steve opened his mouth to start apologizing, ready to apologize for anything, but Eddie held up his hand palm out to stop him, causing Steve’s mouth to shut with a soft click of teeth.

Eddie’s gaze dropped from Steve as his brows slowly began to furrow, a calculating expression settling over him as his eyes fell to the soft yellow polo still in the box. His lips twisted into a frown. After several excruciating moments, his eyes moved towards Steve’s shirt, an even more pinched look settling over his expression.

“Who are you wearing?” Eddie asked, his voice low and slow.

Steve glanced down at his shirt, the panic in him spiking, before realizing that this was a test. He had to prove to Eddie that he could like metal too (he didn’t, not really, though he could appreciate some of it) and wouldn’t be an embarrassment. He could do this.

“Leatherwolf,” he answered, thankful that he had done his job well enough to answer this pop quiz. He straightened his spine and pulled up the information he memorized with a slightly relieved smile. He could do this. “They’re from California. They were founded in, um, 1981.”

“What’s your favorite song of theirs?” Eddie asked, and there was something slightly off in his tone, but Steve couldn’t place it, not when he was frantically trying to recall the titles of the songs he’d made himself remember.

“Um. Cry Out?” he hesitantly asked more than answered, which caused Eddie’s lips to press into a thin line. He felt his breath catch at the obvious displeasure on Eddie’s face, wondering if he’d answered wrong. Was that a bad song? “O-or no, um, not that one. Uh. I like…um. I like…Magic Eye?” Fuck no, that wasn’t right. “Magical Eyes, I mean,” he corrected himself hastily.

Eddie’s eyes slowly dragged over Steve, his lips compressing again into a thin line as he drew in his own deep breath through flared nostrils. “Fuck,” he muttered, obviously not meant for Steve but it caused Steve to panic anyways as Eddie looked away, his brow furrowing in thought as his gaze settled on the newspaper on the table and the circled ads there.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, though he wasn’t certain what he had done wrong this time. Maybe Eddie didn’t like that band?

“Steve…” Eddie heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand over his face before he looked over at Steve again. “I had thought you were just…trying things out. Experimenting. Lord knows your folks never let you be your own person,” he muttered before waving a hand as though to swat that thought away. “I didn’t realize you were actually trying to change.”

Why did Eddie sound so appalled by that? Wasn’t that a good thing? He was willing to fundamentally change who he was just for Eddie, to become someone deserving of Eddie, who fit in Eddie’s life. Didn’t Eddie want Steve in his life?

“Why are you upset about me changing?” Steve huffed, his worry turning into annoyance in his tone. “I thought that was a good thing. Not being the douchebag I used to be.” He scowled, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes to cover his unease.

Eddie just looked at him in that way that made it seem like he was seeing inside Steve, which normally Steve liked because no one ever actually saw him, but now it just made him uncomfortable. Like he had done something wrong. He was just trying to be a good boyfriend, however. Besides, it’s not like he had come up with the plan on his own.

Everyone always talked about how different he and Eddie were. Always pointed out how preppy he was, made fun of Eddie for falling for a jock, had even asked at the start when they first came out publicly to their friends who was blackmailing whom into the relationship. Steve knew he had to change. They were too fundamentally different. It was the only way to keep Eddie.

Except Eddie didn’t look like he was going to be kept. He had started slowly shaking his head, pulling back, his eyes skittering over Steve again but in a way that said he wasn’t liking what he was saying. Steve’s panic spiked again.

“Eddie. This is good. I’m willing to change for you, that’s how much I love you,” Steve breathed, reaching out to grab Eddie’s hand with desperation. “I listen to your music now, and I play Dungeons and Dragons, and I don’t even talk about basketball around you anymore. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Don’t you see? Isn’t that all that matters?”

Eddie’s lips turned down into a sharp frown. A shuddering breath left him before he all but yanked his hand from Steve’s, his dark eyes turning even darker as he pulled away from Steve and said those damning words:

“But I’m not happy, Steve.”

Steve felt all the air leave his lungs, felt all the blood first rush to his head and then drain out of him, felt his mouth and tongue and throat shrivel into dryness as his eyes widened in horror. Eddie was shaking his head, stumbling out of his chair and back, an unreadable expression on his face as he distanced himself from Steve and this revelation.

“This wasn’t what I wanted, Steve. This doesn’t make me happy.” Eddie’s took another step back when Steve stumbled from his own chair, putting the table between them. “I…I need to go. I need to think.”

Steve knew with certainty that if he let Eddie leave now, that this thing between them would never be the same. His heart clenched in his chest painfully, and he felt his eyes sting with encroaching tears. “Eddie, please…” he begged, his words cracking.

Eddie only shook his head, sending his hair arcing around him, before straightening his spine. “This isn’t you. I don’t want this to be you. I love you Steve, but this version of you? The one that I created—” This time it was Eddie’s voice that cracked.

Clearing his throat, Eddie backed away. “No. No, this isn’t what I wanted. I’m sorry, Steve, but I need to go. I need to think. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”

And with that, Eddie spun on his heels and all but ran towards the door, escaping from Steve’s incompetence, his unworthiness, his undesirability while Steve could only stand there in frozen horror, the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer slowly dripping down his cheeks.

Because he knew. He knew this would happen. He knew that no matter what he did, he would never be good enough. He knew that Eddie would leave him one day. Knew that he would never be able to keep the one he loved.

Knew that he, like his love, would always be complete and utter bullshit.

-

Part 3

-

tag list: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[sweetascherry1]

I’ll be watching you — Lee Byung-hun

Description: Over the years your fans has slowly watched you and Lee Byung-Hun fall in love. They finally get to see you guys working on a project together for the first time since G.I. JOE. What even better? The promotion for the Netflix hit Squid Games.

Parings: Lee Byung-Hun x Actor F!Reader

Warnings: Some use of Y/N.

2013 G.I. JOE Retaliation Promotion.

The bright lights of the cameras shined on you and your co-star, while the interviewer asked you basic questions.

“So how did the two of you feel with this new casting. Mr Lee who had already played in the original G.I. Joe movie and you who has just now made her debut.”

You look to Byung-hun silently pleading for him to take on the question first. Luckily one look your way and he knew your silent question. Something you had found yourself grateful for.

“The entire cast is full of amazing actors, who are so caring and gentle.” Slowly you felt your nails picking at your cuticles as you thought of your answer. “I had a lot of fun working with these guys — and everyone on the crew makes it so fun.”

You didn’t noticed at first, and honestly neither did the interviewer. He was so slick with the way he slid his hand into yours, stopping your bad habit. Giving your hand a gentle squeeze before you answering as encouragement.

Your voice didn’t waver as you let the warmth of his hand bring you back to earth.

“Working on a project this big, with these actors who I truly admire is something I’m so excited about. This my ‘debut’ and it’s crazy to me that this is all really real.”

Before the interviewer could ask his next question Byung-hun didn’t think before keeping your conversation going. Helping your nerves.

“Going Hollywood is definitely something that is nerve wracking. I remember how crazy the whole thing was for me.”

Your little smile at him made the fans go crazy when the video came out. The hand holding, and little gentle reassurances he would do throughout the entire thing was something fans couldn’t get enough of as they would re-watch it over and over.

—

Photos flashed everywhere, blinding you as you stepped onto the movie premiere. Your dress was gorgeous, just like you. Your hair and makeup styled perfectly, you had honestly felt like a princess.

And in true prince fashion, Byung-hun stepped in when he saw you picking as your nails again.

Smiling at the photographers, he grabbed your hand. Leaning down to whisper in your ear; “your hands are too pretty to mess up. Squeeze mine instead.”

When he straightened his posture, and smiled once again for the cameras, as if nothing happened, you couldn’t help but think maybe that’s when you first felt it.

Devotion, wrapped in admiration.

He had helped you so much with your anxiety, some would say it was inevitable to favor him. “Thank you.” All he did was simply squeeze your hand back.

The blinding lights going crazy over the hand holding. Surely it would cause rumors, but for once you didn’t let it get to your head. Simply holding his hand instead.

—

For Lee Byung-hun, he had only thought of you as a co-worker. While your admiration for the man was so obvious, he couldn’t help but thing it was a silly crush you had because he helped you in tough situations.

He kept it professional, denying at friend invites you sent him, or any drink you’d offer him. Though he changed perspectives after watching you most recent single interview.

“Many of your fans are interested with your relationship with your co-star Lee Byung-hun. Can you elaborate on it?”

Truth was you felt nervous at this question, you didn’t know the right way to answer. Though you knew you wanted to be honest and not let the rumors continue, even if it may disappoint some.

“Ah, well truth be told there is no relationship I can really explain. This movie is the first time I’ve had such a big role.

While filming, it’s true I had quite a few scenes with Storm Shadow, more often than not. While filming those scenes I’d watch the way Lee Byung-hun embodied his character.

It was something I was truly impressed about, and so since our characters were so intwined with each other — we were paired for most promotional videos.”

You took a deep breath before continuing, grateful that the interviewer didn’t interrupt.

“During our first promo video, I was extremely nervous. This is such a big film and I was so in my head — seeing this my co-working held my hand to help with my anxiety.

People who support me loved it. Was all for it, but all it was, was him helping a co-worker out. The same thing happened at the movie premiere.

While on that carpet my heart was pounding and he was there to offer support. That’s all, the rest is rumors. I simple just admire him and someone to learn from.”

You felt a little shaky but ultimately felt better after clearing air. In your eyes Mr Lee Byung-Hun was uncomfortable about the rumors. That’s why he wouldn’t ever socialize much with you, so you had felt proud of yourself for putting an end to it.

On the other hand, him hearing you say you only admire him from a person to learn from had hit him hard. A person he knew actually looked up to him. It was an honor, one he had became proud of.

So when he saw you next, he didn’t beat around the bush.

“I’m a person you admire?” You didn’t have a crush on him like he originally thought, and that’s the moment he wanted you be your friend.

That’s the moment he had devotion towards you. Devotion wrapped in friendship.

—

Your final cast interview. It was a long experience, but an unforgettable one. This whole movie had became something you truly loved, cast included.

“Each of you will read out a card, and say the answer within ten seconds. If you get it, you’ll gain points. Whoever has most wins.”

A simple game to finish it off. Easy peasy.

To the right of you, Dwayne went first. “In ten words, explain the film.” He read off before hurrying to put ten words out.

“Cobra.” One finger up. “Escapes.” Another. “While. Joes. That. Are. Left. Fight. Back.” One last word, but just before he could think of it — getting stuck the timer went off.

The whole crew laughed at his disappointment, and then next was your turn.

“I’m nervous.” You gave one deep breath before reading out your card. “Why should you watch the new movie.”

One. Two. “Have you seen this cast?” Five. Six. “Just look at Dwayne’s muscles.” Everyone laughed.

Dwayne got a little red, causing a little teasing. It was a good moment, a happy moment. So why was Byung-hun laughing?

In fact as it was a viral clip, not you teasing Dwayne, no it was Lee Byung-hun reaction that was viral.

“Have you seen this cast?” Byung-hun kept his entire focus on you, not even looking away once when you spoke. In fact throught most of the interview, he barely paid anyone else much attention. “Just look at Dwayne’s muscles.”

A bitter feeling bubbler under his skin, as he felt his blood hot. His jaw visibly clenched, as he glared at the man in question. Before looking you up as down, his fist the next to clench. Not a single laugh leaving his lips let alone a smile.

It went very viral, and Lee Byung-hun didn’t even try to deny what they were saying. Jealousy, yes. Though it wasn’t because he was romantically interested. He just felt a sense of belonging over you. Not in a toxic way, or at least not in his eyes.

Truth be told you only mentioned to him simply because you didn���t want him to be mad at you.

“What that video going around about?” A simple question. He was in your living room, laying down on your lap, eyes closed while you mindlessly scrolled through instagram.

Instantly he knew what you were talking about and once again he didn’t defend himself.

“I didn’t like how you mentioned him.”

“His muscles.”

A scoff slipped past his lips, “I have those too, you know?” He sat up, and didn’t hesitate to lift his shirt up to show you. His abs briefly capturing your full attention.

“Yea but there’s already enough rumors about us.” That was true, and he knew that but he just didn’t care.

“Let them talk.” He brushed a hair out your face, “we’re friends, and friends go over co-workers.”

Friends, neither of you doubted the word. But we’re friends so devoted to one another? So admirable to the other? So protective? Yet the word was never doubted.

—

Over the years

Over the years, neither of you worked on a project again. That didn’t matter, your friendship was still so ever strong.

Often at each other’s house, getting food, attending events. All your fans had was an occasional post about the other.

Once you posted putting a pretty pink bow in his hair, his face was in complete annoyance.

“Byung-hun. Look at me!” He knew you had your phone recording and he debated on weather or not to snatch before looking at you. Ultimately he settled for a glare.

“My pretty princess.” Oh he just might kill you. His head tilted as suddenly you felt a little hotter as he look up at you. Like he was going to devour you alive. “Princess? I’m the one that pampers you—“ before he could continue the video went black.

It was a fond memory of your and you had posted it. As expected whenever a post involving the other popped up it blew up.

Though his comment made even more chaos. As he so much loves to do. No joke, before he made the comment he laid on your bedroom floor breaking silence as he watched the video.

“How can I make this more chaotic.” You couldn’t help but sigh at him.

I dream so often of shutting your mouth. Any ideas?

It went crazy. Then again you’ve done that before, comment a wild thing on his post.

For instance, he posted a picture of himself sweating. Chain dangling (one you got him) and a devilish smile.

Have my kids, I’ll never talk back.

Yea?

You had purposely also sent him a private audio message, cat calling him.

The uproar your fans had, oh well let’s just say many articles broke out.

It was honestly fun, watching your fans want something so bad and just dangle it. Made the two of you feel euphoric on the power.

Yet that wasn’t the only thing you two had found euphoric.

Eventually at one point the two of decided to drink and drink. None of you think before you both crossed a line that was already so faded.

You kissed, and then kissed. Until you ending up the next morning both naked in bed.

The two of you decided for the best that none of it ever happen again, but even though you didn’t — it doesn’t mean you two forgot. In fact neither of you can look at wine the same.

Though, y’all’s restraint fell apart eventually as the two of you kept ending up in each other’s bed.

Most people wouldn’t be shocked if they knew, but oh the two of you were dumbfounded on why you guys could resist each other.

So began your friends with benefits era. A classic.

As that era ended, you both realized you had wanted more, so eventually causal dating was the next step for the two of you. In private of course.

—

Promotion of squid games

You and Byung-Hun both sat in front of cameras. Each looking at fan made videos. It was nice to see such creativity, or that what you thought going into this.

As the first video played, with weird dancing and animation, you couldn’t understand how Byung-Hun could keep a straight face.

“That was for sure… interesting.” The side eye you gave him, and then the camera was definitely clipped.

“I feel wrong.” Is all you had simply said. Which was true. “Definitely love the work put into this, and I think it’s cool how people made this. Just… not my cup of tea.”

A few more weird videos broke out, and some nice one with people singing the theme song, and etc.

The next fan video was an edit of the two of you. Simply just watching each other as the lyrics in the video played. Romantics clearly intended.

It didn’t surprise the two of you. Byung-hun turned his head to you, laughing a little.

“You know, a lot of our fans watched this show for us being in a film together. Yet our characters actually despise the other.” Your smile felt contagious to him as you laughed back.

“Are we the problem?”

The man simply nodded his head back before the two of you watched the next video.

—

Instagram

Liked by byunghun0712 and 345k others

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Liked by creator

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—

Lie detector interview.

“We are going to give you a set of questions, please answer yes or no.”

Nerves picked at your skin as your watch Byung-hun opposite from you.

They would start with true or false trivia, before going into more detail questions. He gave you a reassuring smile before reading out the first words.

“Is your name really Y/N?” Easy. “Yes.” The detector person gave a thumbs up and he went onto the next question.

“Is it true that you play in squid games season 2?” Another easy one. “Yes.” One more true or false. “Is it true you are very nervous?” The look you gave him was the most ‘duh’ bratty attitude ever.

“Yes.”

“Okay, now onto the actual questions.” He looked down at his card, almost laughing before reading it out to you.

“Have you ever injured yourself on the set of squid games?” You knew exactly what he was thinking about, and it took you a moment not to laugh as well.

“During one of my earlier scenes, I was drinking wine, that I thought was grape juice.” Byung-hun placed a card over his growing smile as you continued. “Well no one actually thought I was drinking actual wine. Nor did I. So I ended up getting a little flushed and tripped off my chair spraining my ankle.”

Amusement wouldn’t even began the joy your co-star had as he remembered the day he carried you back to your trailer.

“Did you have to learn Korean for this film.”

You tilted your head as you thought about it. “I didn’t learn it for this film, but I had learned it a while ago to surprise you because I felt bad you had to translate your thoughts before saying them.”

Lee Byung-hun remembers the first time you spoke to him in Korean. In fact he thinks that was the moment he fell in love with you.

You two had become the definition of she fell first but he fell harder.

You use to mess up so much, and he always loved it. Now you’re pretty fluent but he loves the moments where you ask him for help.

“Tell me more about your character.”

“I play a foreign player, that is intended to remind Gi-Hun about Ali. When I get into the games lots of drama, funny and stressful things begins to happen. I don’t wanna spoil it.”

“Well you passed!” As your began to unhook yourself from the machine, “not a single lie.”

“Not like I could.” You would rather be seen as the honest person you were anyways.

You had asked your co star similar questions but one was a heavily asked fan question.

“What’s your relationship with Co-Star Y/N L/N.” Even you began to feel nervous. Dating. You two were dating and had went a very long time keeping your confirmed relationship private.

But, as you both looked at each other you both knew there wasn’t a point in keeping things a secret.

“Dating.”

Let’s just say the PR for squid game was better than gold.

A/N: I have so many WIP, but no motivation to finish them 😭. So this is my very half attempt to get out of this writing slump! Otherwise I might go insane.

[reven1c]

Make You Mine

Ceo!Lee Byung Hun x Young!F!Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend have been dating for almost 2 years under the disapproval of his dad, who wants you for himself. Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), age gap (reader is 24, byung hun is 54), smut, unprotected sex, oral, dirty talk, p in v, choking kink

A/N: This is my first time writing something like this and i aint that good at writing so bear with me please. I got the idea from @prinsjam on tiktok!

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You and your boyfriend have been dating for almost 2 years under the disapproval of his father, Lee Byung Hun, a rich and powerful CEO. You first noticed Byung Hun in one of his events which you attended because your father made you. That day you also met your now-boyfriend. Even though that night you realised how handsome Lee Byung Hun is and only had eyes for him you ended up dating his son.

One day after your 2nd anniversary of your relationship with your boyfriend, as you were chilling watching a movie, suddenly your phone dings with a notification from your boyfriend’s father, Byung Hun or as you called him Mr Lee.

Mr Lee: 20 billion. Leave my son alone.

You read the message stunned and in confusion.

You: I won’t.

You stare at your phone waiting for a message when he starts typing.

Mr Lee: I will double it to 40 billion, leave him alone and break up with him.

He is too old for you!

10 years!!

You: Then? Age doesn’t matter.

The silence between your conversation pierced through the air making you anxious. You were hoping he won’t do anything else since he is really strong and rich and with a snap of his finger anything he wants can happen. Suddenly you freeze when you read his next message

Mr Lee: Then date me, 30 years of age gap, age doesn’t matter right?

You read the message and reread it to understand if you are reading this right.

You: Mr Lee, you clearly know this can’t happen.

Mr. Lee: Why?

You: You are my boyfriend’s father.

Mr. Lee: So?

You start getting angry with his answers-questions and him not being serious. Even though this is not right, in the back of your mind, dating him wouldn’t be a bad idea since from the moment you laid eyes on him you have had a little crush on him. And after realising that you are dating his son, your crush on him never stopped.

Little did you know that the crush you have on him was mutual and since the day he saw you at his event he hasn’t stopped thinking about you, without the fact of his son dating you bothering him.

You: No no this can’t happen.

Are you drunk, Mr. Lee?

Mr. Lee: No, sweetheart, I'm not drunk.

I understand what I am saying.

Inside of you, you were dying of happiness because your “crush” is telling you to date him but on the other hand you were thinking about your boyfriend.

You: No, Mr. Lee, this can’t happen

When you hit send, you stand up from the couch and quickly run to your room to change into something nice and make a visit to Byung Hun’s house to talk in person.

As you finish changing and getting ready, you run out of the house and to your car, and drive to his house.

Byung Hun heard the sound of your car pulling in through the gate and into his driveway. He could notice through the monitor that it was you, and the way you exited your car made him smirk. You walk up to the front door, as he stands from his office chair-- making his way to the door.

You knock on the door and Byung Hun opens the door looking you up and down and noticing your figure and attire. You were wearing a black velvet top open in the front, black pants and your favorite heels, black Louboutins. He was wearing a pair of leather pants, and a silk button down shirt, unbuttoned at the top, revealing his collarbones.

You look into his eyes and say “What? You're just gonna let me stand here? Not gonna let me in?”. Byung Hun chuckles and makes room for you to enter.

You walk towards the couch to sit and he follows you sitting not further away from you.

You both look at each other and you speak up “I came here for a reason”. Byung Hun smirks “Mmhm i realised. So, what are you gonna do?”

“You clearly know this can’t happen” you emphasize the word ‘can’t’.

Byung Hun chuckles with what you just said “Oh come on Y/N we both know that the feeling is mutual. Don't play dumb now” he smirks.

You blush and freeze when you realise that he knows. You stand up and stand in front of him with crossed arms and he chuckles “I see you don’t deny it”

You chuckle ironically “And what if the feeling is mutual. I can’t just leave your son and be with you. That’s fucked up”

“And you know that I am not dumb and have noticed that you don’t love him” he says.

And by that I freeze on the spot “What makes you believe that?”

Byung Hun crosses his arms flexing his muscles “I just know how to read people, especially you” he says while smirking. He did really know how to read you, since the moment he laid eyes on you.

You laugh and you lean down on his level by putting your hands on his knees, your chest being exposed, doing it on purpose of course, “I see you are confident today”

“And I keep noticing that you are not denying the fact that you are not in love with my son” Byung Hun says while looking into your eyes and then catches a glimpse of your chest. He feels himself getting a bit hard and tries to hide it.

You look deep into his eyes and smirk “Like what you see?”

He smirks and nods “Yes, very much, But you are also looking down. Didn’t think I wouldn't notice?” and he chuckles.

You smirk “I guess we are even” Byung Hun chuckles “I guess we are”

You walk over the cabin to pour out a drink for yourself “So what now?”

Byung Hun stands up and walks up to you “Hmm i dont know. Whatever you want” and he smirks.

You also smirk “You remember that i am still with you son?” Byung Hun as much as he hated the fact that you are still with his son and not him, he still wanted you to himself.

Byung Hun chuckles and nods “I do. But I really don't care” and walks closer a few inches separating you.

You look up to his lips and then to his eyes when suddenly Byung Hun brings his two rough hands to your face and finally kisses you.

The kiss was so passionate and gentle that made you melt on your knees and wanted more of him. At that moment you forgot everything even your boyfriend.

“Are you sure about this?” Byung Hun asks and you nod “Yes” and with that he brings his hands to your thighs for you to jump on his arms while kissing you.

The kiss becomes more and more rough while he is taking you to his bedroom and lay you on his bed. He quickly climbs on top of you and pins down your hands while smirking.

“Kiss me, Byung Hun”

His name being called by your lips was the last straw for him and he leans down to kiss your lips more roughly. You let a whimper and he smiles.

Byung Hun clearly didn’t care that his son’s girlfriend was laying on his bed, underneath him, ready to fuck her.

“You are so beautiful like this, sweetheart.” Byung Hun smirks and you blush.

He slowly starts kissing your neck leaving little bites behind until he stops to your breasts “We should take this off right?” and you nod while biting your lip.

He takes off your velvet top and leaves you exposed “Perfect”, he takes a nipple in his mouth making you moan “Oh God”

Byung Hun keeps going down while kissing your skin when he finally stops at the place where you mostly want him. He looks into your eyes and takes off your pants and panties in one swift moment making you gasp.

“Please, Byung Hun” you whine.

“Shh, let me take care of you” he soothes, his voice low. He starts kissing your thighs moving closer and closer to your area when suddenly you feel him licking a stripe through your folds.

He then moves his mouth to your clit making you gasp and moan a bit loud. Byung Hun chuckles, sending vibrations straight to your core and continues by sucking gently. You bring your hands to his hair making him groan.

Suddenly his motions become more harsher and stronger making you a moaning mess. You feel the pit of your stomach building and he notices “You wanna come?” and you nod your head desperately “Please”

“Come for me sweetheart” and with that you come undone on his mouth while Byung Hun is still eating you out. Your body shudders, moaning over and over his name which made him harder.

“Such sweet moans only for me” he smirks and watches you as you try to catch your breath.

“I need more please” you whine

“Anything for my girl” Byung Hun smiles and quickly takes off his clothes.

You watch him and observe his chest and muscles flexing “Like what you see?” he jokes and you laugh.

Byung Hun comes on top of you kissing you “I want you so bad” he whispers and you whimper. He positions himself at your entrance making you gasp.

“If it hurts tell me” he resures you and you nod “I need you inside of me please”

He starts slowly slipping into you with gentle motions “So tight sweetheart” and he groans.

Hearing him say that makes you moan loudly and grab the sheets underneath making you knuckles go white. You always loved his hot and deep voice and always imagined how it would sound in this moment. After a few seconds he starts going faster and instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back and lift your hips up wanting more from you.

“So fucking good. So good only for me” and with that he gets more rougher having you in a hot moaning mess “Oh Byung Hun so so good- Ah”

Byung Hun brings his hand around your neck, choking you a bit, making you gasp and roll your eyes. He smiles at this image and keeps pounding into you without wanting to stop any moment.

“Such a good girl. Only for me. Say you are mine” he says

You try to make your words come out of your mouth but can’t and he notices. Byung Hun with that chokes you a bit more “Say it”

“I- I am- Fuck. All yours- Ah” you say between moans

“Good girl” he smirks and starts slowing down when suddenly he pounds into you hard repeating that a few more times.

At a brief moment you boyfriend comes to mind but quickly throw it away not wanting to think of him when his hot dad is fucking you roughly.

You feel yourself wanting to come “B- Byung Hun I need to-“ and you let out a loud moan. “I know, I know” he takes off his hand from you neck and intertwines them with you hand “Wait for me”

You whine since you can’t keep it anymore “Please, I- Ah I can’t”

Byung Hun feels himself getting closer “So so tight” he groans “You are taking me so well”

You feel a tear slipping and clench your walls making him moan. At this moment your mind is gone wild hearing him moaning, totally forgetting about your boyfriend - his son.

“Come for me” Byung Hun gives the signal and with that you instantly let yourself come undone with a loud moan. He keeps pounding on you this time more harder fucking you through the both of your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper inside of you.

He lets out a loud moan and groans and slowly stops pounding into you and collapses next to you.

He swings his arm around you to bring you closer to him and he kisses your forehead “You did so well” you smile “That was amazing” and snuggle closer to Byung Hun.

[tooearlyforthis]

Secret's Out

Pairing: !bfSteve Harrington x Reader

Synopsis: (2.4k wc) The kids have been telling Steve for months to start dating and that doesn't change when a new girl walks into Family Video. Little do they know, he's already dating her.

Warnings: fluff, secret relationship

masterlist || steve harrington taglist

Hello it's been a minute! I haven't had the urge to write in a while but somehow was able to get this out haha. Enjoy!

“Why didn’t you ask her out?” 

Why didn’t he ask her out…that was the question that had been stalking Steve for the past five months. Every time a woman came into Family Video, any time he walked past a pretty girl at the movies. Someone always asked the question: Why didn’t you ask her out?

It didn’t matter who he was with; Robin, Dustin, or even little Erica. The question found a way of coming up. He didn’t blame them in the early days. Robin had gotten used to his constant flirting with customers, spending most of their shared shifts complaining about it. But then one day, it all stopped. No more flirting, no more dates, no more suave Steve Harrington.

To say his friends found it odd was an understatement. Almost everyone he had gone out with for a solid year had been entertainment for his friends. It became a running joke that Nancy had taken away his ability to get any girl or go on more than one date with one. So they became concerned when it all stopped one random day in March.

They asked the question out of worry over anything else. Worried that their dear friend Steve was hiding something important, wanting to make sure he was okay. Dustin especially knew how Steve could withdraw from the group when something was wrong, spending more days at home alone than out with the party. 

But that wasn’t the case, quite the opposite. 

“Why didn’t you ask her out?” Dustin asked. He was leaning over the counter at Family Video. His feet barely touched the floor as he tried to hold himself up by his arms. 

Steve sighed as he placed the last of the cash in the register. Another girl had come in for some romance movie, and Steve didn’t even try to make a move. Instead, when the girl reached forward to pay with cash, her fingers lingering over his, he retreated his hand quickly. 

“Not my type,” Steve said, not looking up at Dustin. 

“Bullshit, I saw you ask a girl out like that when you and Robin were working at Scoops. She's your type.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, man, I didn’t wanna ask her out!” 

The bell at the front of the store rang out, indicating a new customer. Steve looked toward the door as the last of the words left his mouth. He froze when he saw who it was. Y/n, the love of his life, the one he had been hiding from his friends for almost five months. She looked as beautiful as the first time he had seen her browsing records at the local shop on Main Street. 

Dustin craned his neck to see what had left his friend so starstruck, and when he saw Y/n, he did everything except roll his eyes. “Okay, you’re practically drooling over that girl. Why don’t you ask her out?”

The comment brought Steve back to reality, watching as Y/n tried to hide her smile and turn down an aisle of movies. “Uh, no man, I’m good,” Steve told Dustin.

Dustin groaned, practically throwing himself on the front counter. “That is bullshit and you know it!” 

It was bullshit. The most bullshit he had ever said in his life. The moment he saw her in the record store five months prior, it was like a magnet had pulled them together. Glances from across the store, blush not hiding from their cheeks, they inched closer and closer until finally colliding. Yes, literally colliding, in front of the new releases section. 

“Sorry,” Steve said, a chuckle escaping his lips. “I must be really clumsy today.”

Y/n giggled right back, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No it’s okay I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She was gripping a twelve-inch in her other hand, looking down at the floor. It was clear neither of them wanted the conversation to end and Steve had no plans to do so. 

“Stacey Q…I don’t think I’ve heard of her before,” he said, motioning to the record in her hands.

Y/n glanced down too, before looking back up at him. He almost got lost in her eyes, and the softness they showed him. “Uh, yeah me neither. But my friend recommended it, so here I am.”

Steve nodded along, going to rest against the carton of records but pulled away at the last second, realizing how bad it would be for the vinyl. He felt like such a clutz, making a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl. But then she giggled, that infectious giggle that he would come to pull out of her in the following months, as he knew he still had a shot.

“I uh, I haven’t seen you around here before, in Hawkins I mean,” he choked up.

Y/n shook her head. “Just moved here, I’m from the west coast.”

He raised his eyebrows. “The west coast? Must get a lot of sun out there.”

“Oh so much,” She continued. “Too much if I’m being honest…I’m Y/n by the way.”

She extended her hand out for him to shake and Steve reached out to grip it immediately. As he shook her hand he gave out his own name. “Would you wanna grab coffee at the diner across the street? You can tell me more about the west coast and I can tell you about how much you’ll miss it after moving to Indiana.” 

Y/n laughed again, but in the type of way that Steve knew he hadn’t fucked up this interaction. “Yeah, I’d like that.” For a moment she looked up at him with a smile he couldn’t stop thinking about. But then her eyes flickered down and he realized that he had still been shaking her hand.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, pulling it back and moving to fix his hair. He always fixed his hair when he was nervous. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Let me just pay for this and we can head over?” 

All Steve could do was nod, watching as she walked toward the register. How had he fumbled so hard and still gotten a date? If that was any other girl in Hawkins, she would have been out the door before he could say a word. 

Steve waited near the front door for her, watching as Y/n looked back around her shoulder while checking out to make sure he hadn’t gone, each time with a smile that Steve swore was melting his heart by the second. 

He knew even then that she would be the best thing that would ever happen to him. And he was right, which was why all of the secrecy. 

Y/n had been busy with work since the moment she arrived and Steve had the noisiest friend group in all of the midwest, so it seemed almost natural to keep their relationship on the downlow. 

That still didn’t stop Dustin from trying to set him up.

“Why are you like this?” Dustin’s question brought Steve back to the present. 

He sighed as he sat down on a stool behind the front counter. “Like what?”

“All opposed to dating?” Dustin said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What happened to getting over Nancy, going on dates, finding the one?”

“You think I’m not over Nancy?”

He was deflecting and Dustin knew it. “Not the point, Steve! Ever since March it’s like you’ve sworn off girls. It’s sad that I have a girlfriend and you don’t.”

He scrunched his eyebrows. “Hey! Being in a relationship isn’t everything you know.”

“Oh I know that,” Dustin said. “But to you, Mr. Harrington, it’s like single isn’t in your vocabulary, at least it wasn’t until, like, March.”

Maybe Steve had dragged out this secret for too long. His friends were concerned for him, albeit more concerned than they should be. But Steve was happy, in the best, healthiest relationship in his life. Maybe it was time to come clean. 

He looked up across the video store, scanning to see where Y/n had walked off toward. He spotted her quickly in the romance section, peeking out from behind a corner. He could tell she was blushing even from behind the shelf of tapes. 

A plan forming in his head, Steve turned back to Dustin. “If I ask for her number, you have to shut up about my dating life, forever. Not another peep.”

“Yes! Totally!” Dustin said eagerly. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Steve rolled his eyes and stood up from the stool, making his way over to where his girlfriend was browsing. 

“Hey,” she said as he approached. “I thought you were working along today I wouldn’t have come if I thought--”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted. “In fact, I was thinking maybe it was about time we let the cat out of the bag.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “Really? I meant I know how much you liked keeping this between us and with my work schedule it’s not like I’ll be seeing your friends often.”

“I’m sure,” he said, reaching for one of her hands. She dropped it to her side, letting his fingers gently brush over the back of her hand. “And I want you to meet them all properly but I wanna shut that little twerp up so badly right now.”

Y/n looked briefly over at where Dustin was sitting. The kid looked away quickly, pretending like he wasn’t paying attention. She laughed, looking back up at her boyfriend. “Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

“Oh I can think of a million ways.” Y/n giggled. “But I think for now I’ll settle for a kiss.”

“That I can help with.”

With her other hand, Y/n put down the tape she was holding and then brought it up to rest on Steve’s jaw. She leaned forward and slowly planted her lips on top of his. It was a sweet kiss, no need to do more in the sanctity of a video store, but she was sure to make it drag out. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his arms grip either side of her waist. 

On the other side of the store, Dustin’s jaw was on the floor. 

He stood shocked at what he was seeing. Here was a guy that fumbled through every pickup line since his breakup with Nancy Wheeler, and now he was locking lips with a stranger in record time. 

The bell of the video store rang but Dustin couldn’t pull his eyes away from the scene in front of him. That girl was hot, there was no denying it and was so out of Steve’s league. But with the desire to see him happy, Dustin sent his friend over there anyway. 

“What are you looking at?” asked a voice. Dustin didn’t look away, knowing it was Mike who asked the question. He had just walked in with Lucas and Max. Dustin was supposed to pick up a movie for them but he guessed his annoying Steve went longer than he expected. Dustin couldn’t even muster words, just point to where Steve was locking lips with a total stranger. 

“Holy smokes!” Lucas exclaimed. His voice echoed across the store, making Steve and Y/n pull back. Steve guessed they had more of an audience than he intended. 

Taking his girlfriend's hand he asked, “Wanna meet the little shits that I look after?”

“Sure,” she said through a laugh. 

Steve turned to look back at Dustin for the first time since walking over, finding that the other little shits he looked after had joined him. Well, the more people there now, the less he would have to tell later. His hand was still gripping Y/n’s as they walked over, and Steve beamed at the shock look on Dustin’s face. 

“How did you-” Dustin began, but stopped, not being able to comprehend what happened. 

Lucas chimed in. “She’s way out of your league,” he said, earning a smack on his arm from Max. He yelped in surprise. 

“Twerps,” Steve addressed, “This is Y/n, my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend!” Dustin shouted with a gasp. “Since when?”

“Uh since March?” Y/n said, trying to think back to the start of their relationship. “Nice to meet you guys. I've heard a lot about you.”

“March?” Mike asked. “You’ve had a girlfriend since March and we didn’t know?”

Max rolled her eyes. “You guys just don’t pay attention. El and I knew so long ago.”

“You knew?” Steve asked. 

She shrugged her shoulders, crossing her arms over her chest. “We made an educated guess. And we were right.”

“You must be Max,” Y/n said, pointing out the fiery girl from personality alone. She turned to Dustin and his curly hair. “And Dustin. Mike.. and Lucas?”

“Wow, you’re good,” Mike said. 

Y/n giggled at the young teens words. She leaned into Steve’s side just a little more, her head bumping with his shoulder. 

“How about once my shift’s done we take these little twerps out for some food?” Steve asked her.

She hummed in agreement. “Food sounds good.”

“Only if you're buying!” Dustin exclaimed, pointing a finger at Steve.

Steve pointed a finger back. “Only if you keep your end of the bargain.”

“You tricked me!”

“And yet, Max figured it out.”

Dustin shot a glare toward the red head. His eyes filled with annoyance. She only shrugged and said, “It’s not my fault you’re oblivious.”

Dusting turned back to Steve, Y/n still leaning into his side. He let his shoulders relax with a sigh, his head dropping back with defeat. “Fine! I’ll shut up.”

“I call the front seat!” Lucas called out.

Mike groaned, heading for the door in an attempt to beat his friends. “No fair you got it last time!”

Steve put up his hands in an attempt to quiet them. “Hey twerps I’ve still got an hour and a half left of my shift. Besides,” he turned to his girlfriend. “Y/n gets passenger side.”

Dustin and the rest of the young teens groaned. “Is this how it's gonna be from now on?”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a smile, hugging Y/n closer to him. “That’s how it’s gonna be.”

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @halflifejess @nix-rose @palmtreesx3 @cilliansnostolgia @sweetdazequeen @blckburd @hollandweather

[sellenite]

cherry blossoms 02 pairing: virgin!Choso x fem!reader contents: masturbation (m!), Choso's first kiss!, heavy-making out, no real sex but heavily implied (leading up to it), friends to lovers, heavy on consent because Choso deserves it, slow-burn (a little), fluff + smut word count: 2.4K MDNI | 18+

virgin!Choso who hadn’t been able to stop fantasizing about you since you helped him with his late-night issue over the phone. For the rest of the week, he would lay in bed at night and replay the sound of your voice over and over again in his mind. He imagined your velvety, breathy whisper as you guided him so softly and sensually—soothing, yet erotic at the same time. He thought of your moans—those sweet, angelic sounds—and what he liked to imagine you did to yourself to make them… Every night since your phone call, he found himself in the same situation: his hand wrapped tightly around his length—just like you had taught him—,fisting himself to the memory of your voice until he came. It was almost becoming his nightly routine. Choso was obsessed.

virgin!Choso who couldn’t help but crave more as the days passed. He felt a little guilty as he stroked himself at night, thinking about you, and all of the ways he wanted you to touch him... He knew how dirty it was. Even though the ideas of pleasure and masturbation were new to him, he still understood that he was beginning to view you, very, very differently than just as a “friend.” But he couldn’t stop himself. His imagination was running wild as he recounted all of the different ways you had tried to explain to him how pleasure could be felt. And he was so eager to experience all of it, to explore all of it; but he wanted it to be with you. He thought of the way you made him feel so safe. The way you talked to him so kindly and didn’t judge him for his questions. The way you looked at him with your bright, pretty eyes... Sex just wouldn’t feel right to him if it wasn’t with you. He wanted to be yours; and he wanted you to be his, too.

virgin!Choso who waited until the weekend before he finally allowed himself to invite you over. He felt a little shy when he called you. The two of you had texted since that night, but nothing had been mentioned of your assistance after you had hung up. Now all that remained was an electric tension between the two of you, one that made Choso’s palms sweat and his stomach flutter as he asked you oh-so innocently to come over. He told himself that it was perfectly fine, normal even; you were his friend, after all. And it was Friday night, and the two of you always watched movies with Yuji then. It would be more weird if he didn't invite you over, he rationalized. However, on this particular Friday, things just happened to conveniently fall into place; Yuji was out with his friends, leaving Choso alone in their shared apartment for the rest of the evening.

“I wanted to know if you would like to come over tonight… To watch a movie,” he asked, his deep voice sounding a little more quiet than usual. You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you heard his shy tone, knowing already that Yuji wasn't home.

“I’d like that, Choso,” you responded sweetly, feeling little butterflies stir in your stomach.

virgin!Choso who greeted you at his door only seconds after you knocked. He had been pacing back and forth in his living room for the last hour, anxiously anticipating your arrival. He felt his breath catch in his throat as soon as he saw you standing in his doorway. He had always thought your eyes were so pretty and that your lips looked so full and soft, but he had never understood what it meant… Until now. Now when he saw you he realized how badly he wanted you, how badly he had always wanted you—you were so perfect, so beautiful. He tried his best to keep his cool, but you could see the newfound passion he felt for you burning within his eyes.

“So… Are you gonna let me come in or what?” You asked him teasingly, letting out one of those cheerful giggles he loved so much. He felt his cheeks flush, his hand nervously rubbing at the back of his neck as he mentally slapped himself for staring at you for so long.

virgin!Choso who browsed through movies with you as you sat beside one another on the well-worn loveseat in his and Yuji’s living room. The tension between you two had reduced itself to a simmer, but Choso couldn’t help the glances he stole at your pursed lips as you watched him click through titles with the TV remote. You considered a few different options together before eventually finding an action movie that looked fun and harmless enough. However, halfway through the movie, you both watched intently as the main characters started to engage in a very specific form of action.

You could hear Choso’s breath catch in his throat as the scene turned steamy: a close-up shot of the characters making out on a bed, running their hands up and down their barely-clothed forms. The scene was fun and sexy—and still relatively tame—yet it was all too much for Choso. He had become much too aware of the proximity of your bodies as you sat shoulder-to-shoulder, feeling the heat of your skin practically radiating into his. You snuck a glance over at Choso as you heard him swallow a lump in his throat and your eyes caught on his hands that nervously twitched over his sweatpants—trying in vain to hide the tent that was beginning to form beneath the fabric. Your lips parted slightly as your eyes drifted up to meet his own, his cheeks tinged a light pink. After your phone call last weekend, it was evident that you and Choso were entering a territory that went beyond normal “friendship.” And you could tell by the way he was looking at you that he felt it too.

“Choso… Can I kiss you?” You asked him gently, reaching out to gingerly place your hand on his thigh. You felt confident that he would say yes, but there was a lingering shyness in your question; if there was any ounce of normalcy left in your relationship with Choso, this would certainly break it. Choso looked at you with wide eyes as he felt your hand rest hesitantly on his thigh before gently nodding his head.

“Yes,” he said softly, swallowing hard as he tentatively uncovered his erection and placed his large hand over your own.

virgin!Choso whose lips parted open in anticipation as your other hand found his face, your cool palm resting gently against his flushed cheek. You smiled at him sweetly as you looked into his deep purple eyes, the nervous excitement evident in his dilated pupils.

“Just close your eyes..." You told him in a gentle whisper as you started to lean in. “And follow my lead…” Your and Choso’s eyes fluttered closed as you inched your face closer to his, your hand on his cheek guiding you to his lips.

And then you kissed him. You pressed your lips to his full, plush ones tenderly, slowly even, letting him experience the sensation of the kiss gently. You felt his hand that was still resting on top of yours tighten, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the soft pressure of your lips. A warm shiver ran down his spine like melted honey. He felt dizzy as he processed the feeling of it all; the feather-light touch of your hand on his cheek, the delicate warmth in which you kissed him. His head was spinning—light-headed and giddy all at the same time—and it took him a moment to collect himself before he could kiss you back, tentatively copying the pressure of your lips against his own. You let the kiss linger for a moment before you broke it, letting your parted lips brush teasingly against his, breathing softly.

“More...” Is all Choso whispered back, a breathless flush on his cheeks as he brought his lips quickly back to yours.

virgin!Choso who kissed you back with hunger the second time, letting out a satisfied moan against your lips as he felt the warmth of your mouth return to his. He felt you smile against him as he pressed into you, his hand still nervously squeezing your own in his desperation to feel more of you. He still wasn’t quite sure what to do with his mouth, but he felt how you gently slotted your lips around his top lip and he did the best he could to mimic it on your bottom lip. You hummed in appreciation as he copied your movements, beginning to smoothly slide your mouth over his without pulling back. Choso’s kisses were a sloppy and frenzied in his initial enthusiasm, but he fell into your rhythm quickly. He could feel is heart rate skyrocketing as your soft lips melded with his own over and over again. Your touch was intoxicating and Choso was addicted—addicted to how soft you were against him, and how sweet you tasted on his lips, like candied cherries.

Your hands slid from his face to the back of his head, your fingers lacing through his soft hair that was down from its usual buns. He groaned into the kiss as he worked his mouth against yours and felt your nails gently scratch across his scalp. You could feel the way his hand seemed to twitch over yours and you took the initiative to gently guide it to your waist as you moved your body closer. Choso’s breath faltered as he felt the soft curve of your hip under his palm—practically melting at the touch—as you moved your hand to rest against his strong chest. The kiss broke as you slid your thigh over his lap, straddling his waist gently.

“Is this okay?” You asked him breathlessly but respectfully, looking deeply into his eyes for any sign of discomfort, to which you found none. A boyish smile graced his lightly swollen lips as he looked back at you, eyes shining with excitement. He nodded back fervently, both of his hands smoothing over the curves of your hips as he looked at you in awe.

“More than okay,” he answered with a breathless smile. You beamed back at him happily before you leaned in again, weaving your fingers through his soft, chocolate-colored strands as you kissed him with passion.

virgin!Choso who groaned into your mouth as he felt your hips sink into his lap, your thigh brushing against his now throbbing erection. His fingers dug into the plush of your hips as he instinctively pulled you towards his body, feeling the hunger of when he first started kissing you immediately return. He followed your lead when you let your tongue gently slide against his bottom lip, meeting yours with his own as one of his hands slid to the small of your back, pushing your body flush against his own. He was breathing heavily as he kissed you, feeling overwhelmed but in the best way possible. His large palms gripped the delicious plush of your hips and waist, holding you tightly yet tenderly. Your body was so soft beneath his hands and against his chest, and it was driving him insane. He wanted to press his lips to every inch of your skin, to feel every curve of your figure beneath his palms. He wanted to know every inch of your body as if it were his own; to treat you as softly and beautifully as you treated him.

virgin!Choso whose breath caught in his throat as he felt your lips slide away from his mouth to massage over the strong contour of his jaw. His eyes were heavy-lidded as your hand slid to his face, gently angling his chin up as you bowed your head to press a kiss to the pulse point of his neck. He let out a shaky moan as his fingers dug into your hips even harder, holding onto you like an anchor. The way your lips brushed over the sensitive skin of his throat had left him feeling delirious.

“Does that feel good, Choso?” You whispered softly against his skin, tickling his neck as you pressed another kiss to his throat, slightly lower than the last. You could feel your own arousal building as you listened to his ragged breathing and the feeling of his bulge pressed firmly into your thigh.

“Yes… Feels so good,” Choso moaned, his voice almost slurred from the way your soft mouth on his skin seemed to make his braincells evaporate. He leaned his head back further, letting your lips slide and suck over his skin, moaning again when he felt the point of your tongue slip out to tease him. He felt intoxicated, entranced, as if you had put some strange curse on him that made his mind think of you and only you. His body leaned back into the couch, absorbing the feeling of your mouth working down his neck at a sensually slow pace. Your hips began to lightly roll into his lap, grinding your aching core along his hard-on. Choso exhaled a heavy groan as his hips instinctually rolled into yours.

“Please,” he whined softly as you ground your hips gently into his, your lips and tongue still teasing over his neck. He feared that if you kept going he would burst in his pants from that alone; he was already so worked up. You picked your head up to look at him as you heard his plea, his eyes gently opening, swollen lips still parted as he breathed heavily.

“Please, what, Choso?” You asked him softly, once again searching for his explicit consent before you progressed with anything. His deep purple eyes were hungry with desire as you gazed into them, but he felt that familiar comfort he always felt with you stirring in his heart. He swallowed down the last of his nervousness before he answered you, more sure of himself than he had ever been.

“Please, touch me more,” he said gently yet confidently, his thumbs unconsciously rubbing tender circles into your waist. You smiled and nodded your head softly, pressing a kiss to his lips before you asked him sweetly:

“Do you trust me?”

PSA: If you saw me change this story for the millionth time... No you didn't... 😭 It was up for awhile before I realized that I wanted to revise it. I felt that I missed some of Choso's softness in the original version I had uploaded so I wanted to rewrite him and do him justice 🫶

But thank you so much for reading! Everyone who has read, liked, commented and/or reblogged, just know you have made my week 🫶

[dollfacefantasy]

ADD TO THE COLLECTION ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: rick finds an old halloween mask out on a supply run. he brings it back to you, and the two of you put it to good use

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, mask kink, praise/degradation, cnc sorta

a/n: yes i wrote another ghostface mask kink fic. idc idc. you can pry that idea from my cold dead hands. every single man i simp for will have one if it's the last thing i do <3

kinktober slot: day 4 - mask kink

"Ew. You know that thing probably has like a billion diseases, right?" you say, a wide smile spreading across your face as you look at the raggedy Halloween mask in your boyfriend's hand.

The slender, pale face stares back at you with its motionless expression of horror. You hadn't seen one of them in a long time. Certainly not since the world went to shit.

"A billion? I don't know about that. Maybe a million," he teases.

Rick enters the room and approaches where you sit on the bed, wanting to show off his find from the supply run a bit more.

"Don't bring it too close to me. I don't wanna catch something," you say with a hand raised in defense.

"So dramatic," he mocks, "I'm not gonna put it on you."

The wooden floor creaks below his boots as he steps to the edge of the mattress. He sits down, the foamy surface dipping with the addition of his weight.

You can't help leaning forward a little bit out of curiosity. Scooting closer to his side, you look between his face and the mask.

"Were you guys raiding a Spirit Halloween or something?" you ask, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He chuckles. His hands rotate the mask between them. It actually isn't in horrible condition. Maybe a little dusty, but there aren't any huge stains or tears. Visions of him wearing it rise to the front of your mind. You could imagine his head turning, the hollow black eyes following you as he watched your figure move about. The thin fabric fanning out over his shoulders also comes up. Your favorite though is the thought of how it would look above you while he thrusts in and out of you.

Shaking those images out of your head, you refocus when he answers your question.

"No, nothin' like that. I just saw it and thought of you," he tells you, turning his head and pecking your cheek, "I remembered you tellin' me how you used to love those movies."

You almost visibly swoon. "That's so sweet. Slasher movies make you think of me," you coo, "How did I get so lucky?"

Your arms slide up and drape around his neck, bringing you closer so you can nuzzle the side of his face. His skin scratches at you a little bit. The prickle of stubble was rising again.

He returns your affection and pushes the mask aside in favor of pulling you into his lap. The two of you melt into each other and then back onto the bed. One of the perks of living in Alexandria now was not having to wait until everyone fell asleep for the night to go at it.

Rick could be so soft for you. Ever since the two of you met, he seemed so naturally protective. He always lets you hold his hand. Your safety was his top priority along with that of his kids. Before the world went bad, you'd bet he was the kind of guy to hold the door open on dates and call women "miss" or "ma'am."

You're pretty sure that's why you want to see him in that mask so bad.

You knew Rick had another side to him. Something beneath the mask of being the good guy. You'd seen it before a few times. The nights where he ended up soaked in someone else's blood, the sticky crimson liquid coating his facial hair, staining his clothes.

A week after he first found that mask, he comes to your room at night wearing one of the pieces of clothing that's been marred with someone else's insides.

The mask over his face has been cleaned. He clearly washed away the dust and any other sign of mileage on the thing. The ivory plastic front shines without a spot of grime while the black fabric draped atop his hair sits there, dark as the night sky outside.

It's a sharp contrast to the white t-shirt he has on. The cloth pours down his neck and over his shoulder onto the light garment. But the abdomen of this top isn't as pristine as the collar. Blood speckles across the snowy threading, the pattern spatters in a way that makes it look like one of those ink blot tests. If you were the one being questioned, you'd say it looks sort of like a tree.

He stands there against the frame of the doorway in silence, waiting to be noticed. You had been cleaning your boots. When you finally finish, you rise from your spot on the edge of the bed and tuck them in their normal spot against the wall. Sighing, you lean back and prepare to finally have nothing left on your to-do list.

But you feel the other presence in the room. You catch him in your peripheral vision, and a gasp tears through you. Your heart springs from a calm resting beat to erratic thrashing against your ribcage. Thoughts melt from your head while breaths grow spikes in your lungs.

Once you turn your head fully and give your brain a second to register that it's only him, you start to calm down. You let out a deep sigh and put your hand across your chest.

"God, don't do that," you huff, "You scared me."

He doesn't respond.

You continue to catch your breath before looking over at him again. Your eyes scan up and down his figure. He leans against the wall so casually. His arms cross over his chest while his ankles hook one on top of the other below. Even though you can't see his gaze, you can feel the intensity of his pupils on you.

"You're lucky I didn't have my gun on me," you tell him and narrow your eyes.

Again, you get no words out of him. But this time he does push off the edge of the entryway and step forward. He swings the door shut behind him and continues to stare you down.

It's weird. Having him just stand there, digs a pit in the bottom of your belly. For a split second, your mind floats the possibility that this isn't him. The paranoid sector of your head poses questions like what if this was someone else who just found the mask? What if they just looked like Rick?

But then his arms drop from his chest and you see the silver of his watch glimmer in the pale moonlight. 

It doesn't kill the tingling in your nerves any; rather, it transforms the sensation. It's a different kind of strange seeing Rick act like this. It wasn't the version of him that came out for a true threat.  He was never so silent when that was the case. In moments of desperation, he became feral - eyes darting around, limbs taut with the preparedness to strike. But that's when you realize this isn't a moment of desperation. He's the one in control. He's the threat in this situation.

"You're not even gonna try to run, little girl?" he asks, his voice coming out in that familiar drawl but with a little edge to it.

Your spine lights up like a fuse. Excitement seeps into your bones. Everything feels jittery. You don't know what to do or say. In this moment, you just want.

"You're in the way. I don't have anywhere to run," you say. Your voice waivers almost as if you naturally fall into the role of the helpless victim.

It's weird hearing yourself like that. In the world you lived in, you never wanted to sound like that. Showing weakness meant death. And hearing it from someone you loved meant their time was coming to end. Being able to express it now though, it felt different. You weren't sure how to articulate it, but that could be due to the fact that you'd never been so turned on before in your life.

He approaches you further. The wooden floor boards creak beneath his slow steps. You try to back up but your knees hit the mattress.

"No runnin'? You're gonna make this too easy for me," he chuckles, "Put up a little fight."

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip. He leans in closer to you, reaching up to drag his fingers down your cheek. You try to lean back but end up having to sit on the bed and scoot away on the mattress to create some distance.

He just laughs and grabs your ankle, preventing you from getting too far. You try wriggling your leg a little bit, but he tightens his grip and grabs the other one.

"Tsk, tsk. Pathetic," he taunts, "You're just gonna let me take what I want?"

You try kicking a little harder, but it's of no use. Each jerk of your leg goes to waste. Nothing changes. There would be no difference if you didn't move at all and just made what he said true.

"So cute," he mocks, "Just tirin' yourself out for me."

"It's not fair," you whine. You roll yourself onto your belly and try to drag yourself away by grabbing the edge of the bed. He doesn't let you though. Even though Rick was lean, he didn't lack strength. That coupled with his training as a pre-apocalypse police officer meant he knew how to restrain people. You whimper and buck your hips to try and create some momentum to get away, but it's all of no use.

"You cheated. You didn't give me a chance to run," you continue to pout before repeating your prior sentiment, "Not fair."

He laughs and whips you around onto your back again. This time he leans forward and tugs your hips harshly, dragging you over the collection of blankets so that your ass is flush against his semi-hard bulge.

"Who said I have to play fair, princess?" he asks, "Weak little thing like you wouldn't have made it far anyways."

Another whine bubbles from your lips as you squirm. He looms over you, keeping you accessible to him with the weight of his body. As he closes in, your breathing becomes heavier. The white ghostface stops inches away from the tip of your nose. You stare into the expressionless eyes of the match while your cunt throbs against the heat of his pelvis.

"You're lucky I caught you here. Spares you the embarrassment of getting dragged back, kicking and screaming. Or even worse, me pounding you into the grass out there where anyone could see," he breathes.

You shudder at the images his words create in your head.

He can feel the tremble of your limbs, and he pushes the mask up slightly to bare his lips. For a second, you think he's going in for a kiss. And in a way, that's true. But it's not on your mouth. Instead, he ducks down to your throat. He attacks it with fervor much more intense than what you usually felt from him.

These kisses are hot and open-mouthed. The tip of his tongue tickles your pulsing skin. His lips feather against it while his teeth nip and tug. All you can do is melt under it. You try to keep in character and put up a bit of resistance, but it's not a strong performance.

His fingers hook over the top of your little sleep shorts and panties and pull them down to your mid-thigh. That was all the room he needed. His hand not clutching one of your biceps slides down between your thighs. He can feel the slick on his fingers in seconds, and he huffs out a laugh.

"Oh, you're a bad girl, aren't you? The slightest bit of attention, and you're dripping. I didn't even have to do anything," he says.

After those words hit your ears, he pulls back. He tugs your shorts all the way off to free your legs before he shoves his jeans down far enough that his length can spring free. He's almost fully hard. The sight of your slippery cunt makes it easier to take it from almost to solid.

He strokes it and watches you. It's obvious how ready you are, but he can't help but want to draw it out a little more.

"Take off your top," he commands.

Your breath hitches, and you swear you feel your heart stutter. Of course, he'd seen you naked before, but it felt new here. This wasn't Rick's cool blue eyes gazing down at you with love. It was the dark, empty patches of painted plastic.

Nevertheless, your hands venture down and peel your shirt from your body. Once it's gone, your tits are left exposed to his view. He doesn't touch them, and you can't see if he stares directly at them, but it feels like he does.

He pumps his cock a little faster. A small groan rumbles from his mouth.

"I don't even have to say it twice. You didn't even need to see my face to listen. I either have you so well-trained, or you're just the most natural slut out there, babydoll. Just waiting for orders to follow like a little puppy," he rasps.

He pushes forward and slides his leaky tip against your folds. A small whine sneaks out of you at the pressure on your clit. The head nudges it before gliding down toward your entrance again where it pops in.

You both hiss at the feel. On his part, you're already so warm and tight. For you, it's the mild stretch combined with the satisfaction of having something inside you. Either way, it's just a taste of what's to come.

He sinks in more, guiding the rest of his shaft into your pussy. Whimpering, you arch your back off the bed the tiniest bit. His hand lands on your tummy and pushes you down again though. He forces you to take it all and then rocks his hips back and slams forward again.

"So sensitive," he teases.

His hands curl around your hips before he starts thrusting. Like the earlier kisses, his pelvis snaps against you with more force than usual. Your eyes roll back from the bouncing rhythm while your fingers clutch the linens beneath you.

"Poor baby. You never had any fight in you to begin with," he teases, "You give in so easily."

"It- it's not my fault," you whimper. More moans seep out of you. It feels like every slap of skin on skin knocks a new noise from you.

"Oh yes it is," he grunts, "You didn't even try because you want this. You just wanna be filled up. Don't even care who's doing it."

As he says that, your hazy eyes look up at the mask. "Do too..." you pout.

Your walls squeeze around him tight at the sight of the haunted face watching you. It bobs a little with his motions as well, shaken by the force of them.

He laughs at you from beneath the mask and speeds up a little. You clench around him in tandem with your toes curling. He leans in and bends you further in half on the mattress.

"Ok sure, sweetheart. That's why you didn't even need to see my face before I slid my dick inside you," he breathes.

Your little clit throbs at the words. As if he can sense it, one of his hands rises to thumb at the nub. Your hips buck in response, eager for more. Deep, whiny sighs flood into the air from you. He can't get enough.

"That's right, keep squeezin' me, darlin'" he says, arousal infecting his tone now too.

You nod like you have a real say. The way he was battering your pleasure spots and swiping at your clit had you tightening up involuntarily. He still moans with the feeling though. His head tilts back. You can hear his panting getting louder below that mask.

A few strokes later, he reaches up and yanks it off, dropping it to the floor next to his boot. His hair hangs damp against his forehead while his cheeks are a little flushed from the heat. None of this stops him from fucking into you though. It's as if he can't stop. The chase for release captures him on a deeper level.

Even without the help of ghostface, his stare is intense. His pupils glare into you as he provides you with more pleasure than you know what to do with.

"You think you're gonna cum for me? Gush all over my cock?" he croons mockingly.

You nod. Your arm weakly flies up so you can grab at his wrist. "Need it, Rick," you whine.

He chuckles, a small smirk teasing his lips. "You can have it then. Let it go for me," he says.

Your hips buck in time with the next handful of whimpers that leave your lips. The climb to the top feels so fucking good. Your core sizzles up until it reaches a fever pitch and you explode into white hot pleasure. A low, satisfied hum reverberates from you as your eyelashes dust your cheeks.

He fucks you through the feeling, one hand on your throat, the other down at your clit, swirling around the small nub a few times to give you the extra boost. It makes you nice and tight around his dick. Your walls squeeze like a vise. He has no choice but to let go.

As desperate as he is to fuck it deep inside of you, he stops himself at the last second and pulls out. He grabs his cock at light speed before that feeling can vanish and pumps it at the same rhythm he'd been thrusting into you.

Warm, milky ropes of cum shoot out onto your belly. The splatter across your skin, glimmering in the cool light of the night. You force your eyes open when you hear his deep moan. You're almost certain you've never seen anything as beautiful as Rick's face when he releases. His brows furrow while his jaw relaxes. He parts his lips in a small o. You watch with droopy eyes, the haze of lust still not totally gone yet.

When he's finished, he stares down at you in a similar fashion. His hand cups the back of your neck so he can bring you up to give you a kiss before he goes and grabs a towel. The bloody shirt he'd been wearing is gone when he returns. He cleans the spend off your belly and then crawls back into bed with you.

You snuggle up to him, ready to close your eyes and conk out. But then you think of something.

"I knew it was you before you took off the mask," you say. The flesh of your cheek smooshes against this chest.

He looks down at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Cause your watch," you say proudly, as if you'd discovered some great clue.

The information registers but then his lips break into a grin. "Hmm, smart girl. I'll have to keep that in mind if I ever put on the mask for something secretive," he teases before yawning and tugging you closer to his side.

"Mhm, cause I'd figure you out right away," you murmur.

"I'm sure," he agrees, pressing a few kisses to your head. "Get some sleep, baby."

[baepsays]

Domesticity is a privilege, and privilege is attracted to Gojo Satoru.

Wait we might need to reiterate that. Because if privilege is attracted to Satoru, and being domestic with the love your life is a privilege — how come he hasn't attracted that wishful life yet!?

I mean he's already privileged (in capitalistic and aesthetic sense), he is hopelessly in love with you, so by default next outcome in this equation must be—you, him, and your cats, chilling in your bed. Just watching the rerun of your overwatched favourite show while the cats cuddle up to you two.

Now the only problem is despite being capitally and aesthetically blessed by default, the whole wooing the love of your life thing doesn't happen by staring at them from a distance while making up little scenarios in your head —how your first date would go, your first kiss, what if you met back in high school, meeting the parents, getting their blessings, getting married, and adopting two cats.

You might call him pathetic, but do not worry his friends do not shy away from voicing that fact out every two seconds. Because every two seconds he's letting out a big sigh and going "y/n would like that." or,

"y/n should try this."

"y/n"-

You get the gist of it. Really- thoughtful of him.

So this brings us here, THE Gojo Satoru sitting on the curb of the sidewalk infront of your building. With a bouquet in his hands, decked up in a three piece (probably Italian) custom suit, tie is tied rather not how a tie should be tied. But it works for him. Everything works for him.

Now do not take him for a creep! He's a gentleman of the highest stature. Gojo is actually waiting here for you for that date he secured with you after graciously asking you (practically begging you and with the help of Geto Suguru who made the dire mistake of introducing you to him in the first place).

"Satoru? What are you doing here?"

That is a valid question to have, to walk up to your building, exhausted after work and to see your date sitting outside your building, on the sidewalk nonetheless. Isn't he loaded? Where is his car even?

"Oh I was waiting for you! What are you doing out so late?" At this point he got up to stand face to face with you (took a lot of courage for him to do that!).

"I had to do overtime and, no, wait. Why are you waiting for me at 2 AM?

"Oh you know to pick you up for our date!"

"Satoru. That is tomorrow. I am supposed to see you at 4 PM tomorrow. Were you planning on to camp out here all night? where is your car??" (my concern as well)

"First of all- I got too excited and I couldn't sleep. sooooo-" he stretches it on, what's about to come next couldn't possibly be any better.

"So I thought I'd put on the suit I bought for our date! Then I thought hmm well now if I sleep in this it'll get creases and I won't have much time to get it ironed. Then I saw the flowers, I was growing to give you, sort of wilting away. And I couldn't possibly give you dead flowers for our first date! And I was waiting in my car, then it got towed away, and-"

"STOP."

What do you even do in this situation? Tell him to go home? How is he going to do that with practically no public transport working at this hour and his car gone. Even you barely caught the last train home. I mean any other individual would get weirded out, get angry, and upset. But you, well,

"How about instant ramen and a movie for a first date, on my couch?"

I suppose you are attracted to Gojo Satoru just as much as privilege is attracted to him. And oh what a privilege it is to be loved and to be wanted like that one soft blanket you just want to snuggle up into at the end of the day.

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To check out more of my stuff click this.

[wtfaniii]

CAN I PRETTY PLEASSSEEE request more child! Reader with squid games caretakers😿. The one I read a bit back was super comforting and I highkey want more💔

Squid game male characters x little girl reader

Ok I see that you liked this dynamic and it's good, it also helps my inner child so I bring you more, and here I will put writings of the characters in the first and second seasons ♡

If you want me to do it with the female characters, let me know!

master list!

> Seong Gi-hun

With him the tea parties were never boring

He always made you laugh and made sure you had fun even when your mother looked at him sternly for being with you longer than he should, now you won't finish the schoolwork.

He wasn't a good father, admitted it, but at least he tried and this time he didn't make the same mistake as did with your little sister.

—I think the princess would love to have more tea! —He said in a squeaky voice moving your toy doll as if she was the one talking.

You laughed and served him more with a fine movement, you loved the few moments spent with your father.

But you also noticed the tension that your father and mother had every time he came home and that was something that you didn't like, you were small but not ignorant, you could see that something was wrong between them, you just didn't know what it was about and that led you to commit some pranks that in your mind seemed innocent.

Like, for example, sneaking out of school to go see him, at first he would congratulate you for being so smart but then he would scold you for putting yourself at that risk.

—I like that you come to see me but don't do it this way, your mother would kill me —He said taking your hand as both walked through the subway to take the train back to school.

—She doesn't mind —You said with an innocent smile —besides, she's busy organizing the move.

—¿Moving? ¿Where are they going to move?

You raised your shoulders without having an answer, neither your mother nor your stepfather wanted to tell and that activated an alert in Gi-hun's head, after taking you to school again was when he found that strange and mysterious man with the briefcase and after that day your father was never the same.

He only wanted the best for you and your little sister and if he had to stay away to protect you that's what he would do.

> Cho Sang-Woo

Walking on his shoulders was the best, you felt like you could see everything from above and you liked hugging him by the neck from time to time.

It was curious how you were the only one who could see him smile genuinely, at first he felt scared when received the news that he was going to be a father, he wasn't going to lie, considered leaving you with your mother and sending money every month but now he couldn't see himself in a world without you.

—¿Do you want vanilla or strawberry ice cream? —him asked you as I walked towards the ice cream stand.

—¡Strawberry! —You responded happily while pulling his hair a little like that chef mouse used to do in the movie you liked so much.

He let out a low chuckle and walked towards it but stopped short when he saw a group of men that he instantly recognized walking casually down the sidewalk, they still didn't see Sang-woo but he was sure that if they did there would be problems because of his money problems.

He immediately put you on the ground and walked back the way came from, you looked at him in confusion, but before asking a question he entered a store without letting go of your hand.

—¿And the ice cream?

Your question caught his attention and he took his attentive gaze away from the door.

He formed the best smile could and told you that better choose some candy from there, you excitedly did so, ignoring the tension on his part and after a few minutes fortunately those bullies continued walking without seeing them, Sang-woo was able to release the air trapped in his lungs and returned to you.

After paying for the chocolates you took, both left the store and continued walking back home until Sang-woo met the recruiter.

The recruiter filled him with promises of a stable and secure future for you, a future where he wasn't constantly worried about your safety or whether he had enough money to buy the things you wanted.

He left you in the care of your grandmother and entered the games, it didn't matter what he had to do or the traitorous murderer he would become, he promised to come home and would do that.

> Hwang Jun-ho

No matter what he did, you did exactly the same thing whether it was something common or something dangerous.

¿Was he preparing to have cereal for breakfast? You did it too, ¿did he accidentally spill milk on the table? You also dropped it just to copy it.

You saw him as a hero and bragged at school that your father was a police officer to the point where they bullied you for even listening to it, something you didn't care about because you were still proud to say it.

People used to tell Jun-ho that you were a mini copy of him and that made him smile, because it was true and he was proud of it but also a little terrified of the trouble you were going to get into as you grew up.

He would drop you off at school every morning to make sure brought your breakfast and were well combed and clean, sometimes he struggled with your hair because being a single father he had to resort to video tutorials on the internet but you were always happy with the result.

—If you can't open your water bottle, ask the teacher for help —Your father said as you got out of the car.

—¡Yes daddy! —With your backpack carried on the shoulder and stumbling you ran towards the entrance of the school before they closed, it was already late and there was little tolerance and the teacher at the entrance let you know with an expression of disgust when she saw you.

You apologized with a slight bow and the teacher scolded you, she was already telling you about your punishment when suddenly Jun-ho sounded the sirens of his patrol car to get the teacher's attention.

Your father was still sitting inside the vehicle, only this time showing his best smile and waving at her with one hand.

The woman immediately changed her posture, gave your father a flirtatious smile and gently pushed you into the school, telling you that this was the only exception.

Jun-ho knew how to use his charms and he would use them as long as it was to save you from a school punishment or for them to make exceptions like this.

both had an excellent father-daughter relationship, however, when he went to that island to look for In-ho and then he was found in the water, those were the worst days of your short life. During the time he was in a coma, you slept next to him and your grandmother had to take you off of him by order of the nurses.

The good thing about that is that when Jun-ho opened his eyes, the first thing he felt was your body pressed against his like a little koala looking for comfort.

You were a real daddy's girl.

> Ali Abdul

Due to your nationality you were excluded at school, you didn't care much since the encouraging words of your mother and father always echoed in your head but when you started learning magic tricks to impress your classmates the teasing got worse.

Now you were in the back of your house trying to learn a card magic trick while holding back tears, you didn't want to worry your family, your father was constantly working and your mother was busy taking care of newborn brother.

You knew your family was going through a hard time so tried to make as little noise as possible.

You placed a six diamond card in your left hand and shuffled the other cards with your right hand, you made a quick movement of your hands and the card managed to appear right in the middle of the others

—Taraaaa... —you said without much encouragement despite your successful result.

Suddenly you heard a joyful applause and turned your head as saw your father coming out of the house looking at you with pride.

—¡That was fantastic princess!

—¿Oh really? ¡Thank you! —You said more excited than before, rearranging the cards in your hands to do the trick.

—It would be an honor to see a great magician do her show.

Despite being absent from you most of the day, he loved you and always reminded you by telling you or just paying you a lot of attention, even if it was only for a short time.

He knew that they bullied you for being different from others, he also suffered that discrimination but he tried to make you feel better every day.

For the next two hours he was attentive to every magic trick you taught him and applauded with pride and surprise every time you finished successfully, may have had no money and social status was horrible but were a united family and that was all that mattered.

He entered the games to help his family move forward, he spent each one thinking about you, your mother and your brother, family was his motivation and in fact, thanks to you he was saved in the game of marbles.

"Nothing is what it seems"

You said at the end of each act of magic and for some reason he remembered the phrase when he was about to fully trust Sang-woo, he didn't and just as you played with illusions and cards, he played with distraction and marbles.

> Hwang In-ho

He is not an excellent father, his work and the hard life he led consumed him as a human, but at the end of the day he always made sure to come to your room to read you a bedtime story, turn on the night light so you wouldn't be afraid of the dark, and stay by your side until you fell asleep.

You were a small lotus flower growing in a minefield, he disliked it but it was the only way to have you by his side, he affectionately called you "little sun" because you illuminated his life among so much death and darkness.

—...And then the circle did this for me —You finished narrating your day while showing him a paper flower that a guard with the circle figure impregnated on his mask had made for you.

—it's very pretty —He said after turning on the light to sleep and sitting next to you on the bed.

He was busy most of the day so he asked the guards to take care of you, a wonder for you and a danger for them because if he noticed a single unhealed scratch on your body he would make sure that the guard who didn't take good care of you would pay the consequences.

—It's time to go to sleep.

In-ho covered you with the blanket and placed a kiss on your forehead while humming a sweet melody that your mother loved.

You pretended to fall asleep and he left the room, usually you were obedient to his every rule but this time would be different.

This occasion was special.

You put on your bunny slippers and left the room wearing your duck pajamas, one of the square guards saw you on the screen but with just two buttons he changed the image to prevent the frontman from seeing you.

You walked cautiously until a triangular guard found you and guided you to a huge room with a childlike atmosphere, a blue sky painted all over the wall with white clouds and rainbows decorating it.

He gave you a radio and you spoke to all the circular workers to start your big plan.

You were a very smart and nice girl so you managed to convince everyone to help you organize a surprise birthday party for your father.

Placed balloons of all colors, confetti bombs everywhere and they made you a cake just as you requested, a large cake with a badly made figure of the frontman on top.

The next morning the mere image of seeing your father wearing his dark gray suit and his trademark mask in the middle of the playground with lots of colorful confetti falling on him and shouts of "Congratulations" from all the workers was enough to make you laugh.

In-ho was on the verge of a breakdown, there was a lot of work to do and you had distracted all his employees with this but he immediately calmed his fury when he saw you smiling like that.

That day was something unusual on the island, all the masked men received a slice of cake and saw their leader, the most firm, severe and imposing man open birthday gifts with his little daughter by his side, that day was an exception and there were no scoldings for helping you.

Now everyone was sure of one thing, you were his great weakness and if something happened to you the frontman would have no mercy on the world.

> The Salesman

The night passed calmly, the boring and monotonous atmosphere of the luxurious house in which you lived was about to consume you when you heard the main gate open, you quickly left your room, ran downstairs and saw your father, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack.

—¿What is the reason for this reception? —He asked you curiously as he placed his briefcase on the floor.

—¡I'm bored!

He looked at you in silence and tilted his head a little at the same time as he crouched down to be at your level.

—¿And what do you want to do? —He asked you even though he already knew your answer.

You had inherited his love for random games, where you didn't know if you would be the next to lose or win, so that was a hobby shared as father and daughter.

—¡Poker! —You said enthusiastically, forming a malicious closed-lipped smile on your mouth as you pulled a set of cards out of your pocket.

He couldn't be more proud, he was molding you into his shape and likeness which wasn't good but not all bad either, when you grow up you will have many freedoms and privileges in exchange for offering desperate people an unreliable opportunity, it wasn't an honest job but at least that way you wouldn't live like he did in his childhood, without a penny to eat.

After you explained the rules, prizes and conditions began to play, you won every time and as a reward he gave you one of your favorite chocolates, a more than special prize considering how strict he was regarding your bedtime.

Until in a bad game you lost, causing a small laugh to come out of your father's mouth.

—Looks like your luck has run out —He said leaning forward and without erasing his malicious smile.

You looked at him with half-closed eyes and before you knew it he lifted you off the ground and started to make you ribs without mercy.

You yelled at him between laughs to stop but he ignored it, despite being who the salesman was, he was more than happy to share a bit of his vile reality disguised as a childish act with you.

—Now to sleep —He said seriously once again, walking up the stairs to your room without letting you go —Tomorrow you have ballet classes and violin rehearsal, if you arrive sleepy you won't be able to do it.

—¡It's not fair! —you said with a pout as he placed you on the bed.

—Ah, princess, in life nothing is fair —he murmured, leaning down to leave a fatherly kiss on your head.

He was a heartless and sadistic man who loved the life and work he led but also loved being with you, he just hoped that when you grew up you wouldn't oppose his ideals or else he would have to get rid of you.

> Park Gyeong-seok

You were daddy's princess, while he was doing his paintings in the park you were next to him blowing bubbles and talking about random topics non-stop.

He laughed occasionally at what you said and responded to you but his eyes were still on his work, it was exhausting having to take care of you and your ill sister but there was no better reward than a hug from his two daughters at the end of a long day of work.

—¡Daddy can I go see the parade! —You said excitedly, pointing to the parade of motley that was passing by and handing out candy,

He hesitated for a few seconds, he didn't want to let you go alone and although it was a family environment there were always some risks.

—Fine but take your sister —He responded with a soft smile, you jumped with excitement and ran to your little sister to take her hand and quickly go to the parade.

Na-yeon and you went through all the people stealthily until reached the front where the animal motley were passing by and handing out candy. You jumped once again to get the attention of one of them and they gave you two pieces of candy for you and your sister.

The two continued watching the parade with a smile and curiosity until you were distracted by a clown who made you a dog made of a balloon, you didn't realize how long you were talking and laughing with that man until your father suddenly arrived and picked you up from the ground.

Gyeong-seok looked at the clown distrust and scolded you for your recklessness,

—I told you to take care of your sister, you should not talk to strangers ¿And what have I told you about staying away from me too much?

The minutes he spent anxiously looking for you were torture, when he found your sister in the dressing room with the motley, he immediately noticed your absence and his poor heart almost suffered an attack, he didn't know what he would do if something happened to you or Na-yeon.

—Sorry... —You murmur with tears in your eyes as you still see traces of his previous despair.

He hugged you tightly and turned around to return to his position where he had previously left your sister, he caressed your hair and gave you a kiss on the cheek as an apology for his reaction but you couldn't blame him, you were his world and he would lose his sanity without you.

After your sister's medical situation worsened and she was admitted to the hospital, things got a little complicated, your father knew that he had to find money to pay for her treatment and he would do whatever was necessary, even if that meant having to leave his two daughters in the care of the hospital.

—I don't want to be alone —You said with a pout on your lips and your arms crossed, although more than upset you were scared of having to go through this situation alone.

—I know princess but I need your help for this ¿Can I count on you? —He left a kiss on your forehead and took your hands to join them with his.

Receiving the news that he would have to be away for a few days distressed you a little, your mother died and you didn't want to lose him too.

He didn't want to leave them either, but that man with the briefcase offered him a great opportunity and hope that he couldn't let go.

—You are my brave girl ¿right? It will only be a few days and when I return I promise that everything will be better for us —He had no other option so he said goodbye to you with a promise that, by the way, he didn't know if he would be able to keep.

> The Masked Officer (Park Hee-soon)

Your father was a firm, authoritarian and even a little insensitive man.

Quite the opposite of you, you were an energetic and colorful ray of sunshine.

Letting you accompany him to the island was not the best decision, not because you didn't know how to behave, but because you were like a whirlpool among all the employees and guards, playing and ignoring the real reason why everyone was there.

Occasionally he would find a toy lying in the hallways and his office, naturally painted black with a small lamp next to the bed, was now full of stuffed animals and other things that you had put in the suitcase before leaving the house.

—¿Did you like how I decorated the room? —You asked happily with a wide smile on your face.

He looked at you in silence while pinching the bridge of his nose regretfully, it had been a long day at work, with the frontman infiltrating the games and him in charge being a complete burden but he could handle it, what he couldn't handle was you and your hyperactivity.

—Yeah... —He growled, taking off his black suit as he walked to the bed so could sleep, he was too tired to deal with you now but as soon as his body touched the bed you jumped on top of him, completely knocking the air out of him.

—¡I'm not tired yet! ¿Can we play something? ¡I see I see! —You suggested, jumping next to him on the bed excitedly.

—¿What do you see? —He murmured tiredly but playing along until an idea came to his mind —Hey, ¿why don't you go to the third floor and go to the eleven room to play? I'm sure she would be happy to do it.

You quickly ran to where he had told you and as soon as you left the room he grabbed the radio and spoke to eleven.

—My daughter is going there, be good and play with her until she falls asleep.

It wasn't a request for a favor, it was an order and even though eleven was also tired, she had no choice but to play with you until you fell fast asleep in her bed.

Anyway, most of the guards and employees there had a little affection for you.

> Lee Myung-gi

Now, he doesn't have the slightest idea how to take care of you.

He was still young and it wasn't in his plans to become father but now here you were, in to his computer playing video games.

—It's late and you have school tomorrow —He told you with a tired sigh, he didn't know what to do to convince you to go to sleep because when you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning it was quite a challenge to deal with you.

You ignored him and continued playing, you didn't take him seriously because he was very soft on you due to the little experience he had, also your mother's abandonment was another problem to deal with.

—Come on, you must go to sleep —He insisted for the second time, approaching you shuffling his feet, he was physically and mentally exhausted.

Another problem, now he had lost all his monetary income and several people were looking for him for fraud, it was a nightmare.

—No —you said flatly, turning to show him your tongue in a rude childish gesture.

Myung-gi sighed and left you at the computer to go to his bed to sleep, however as soon as you saw him close the door you heard him curse and... ¿Sob?

You took off your headphones and gently turned to look at the bedroom door, where you could swear he was crying.

You twisted your lips and stood up, your bare feet making contact with the floor and you crept towards the bathroom to brush your teeth and comb your hair.

After doing your little routine before going to sleep, you passed by your father's room, you stopped and thought about whether it was best to go in to see how he was or go straight to bed.

He didn't have the best family bond with you, you disobeyed him and he didn't seem to care but this time it was different, you didn't know all the problems he was going through and your behavior and rejection had been the icing on the cake.

You opened the door gently and saw him lying face down on the bed with the pillow on his face, you approached and he felt your presence so he turned to see you.

It wasn't his best year, he had lost a lot of money, all kinds of people were practically hunting him for him to give them back what they lost, he accidentally got his girlfriend pregnant and left her without telling her anything, your mother left him to his fate with you and you... another unplanned daughter that made his days more difficult.

He was overwhelmed and now lay red-eyed and full of tears on the bed.

—¿Can you read me a bedtime story? —You asked cautiously, playing with your fingers.

—I'm not in the mood... —He whispered, shrinking further into the bed.

You left the room in silence, he thought you had gone to sleep or play but after a few minutes you returned with a hot chocolate that you had prepared yourself and a children's story trapped in your arms.

You gestured for him to move aside and he did, you placed the cup of chocolate on the nightstand and lay down next to him.

—Once upon a time there was a soldier in shining armor... —You started reading the story for him.

Myung-gi was going through the worst time of his life but just for tonight, with you reading him a story and giving him a hot drink he felt better, he as a father was supposed to take care of you, not the other way around, but this nice act on your part felt like a big hug to his ugly loneliness.

He fell asleep when you finished the story, you covered him with the blanket and went straight to your room to sleep, it would be a difficult path to walk but for now you had each other, had to adapt, besides, internally both had some affection for each other.

That's why when he entered the games he took a photo of you with him, the guards took it from him when they put him to sleep but it doesn't matter, you would be a great reason to get out of there alive.

> Choi Su-bong // Thanos

He used to call you "My serotonin" because you were one of the sources of his happiness, a drug that came into his life by surprise and he had no intention of leaving.

As a father he wasn't the best of all but at least he tried, he let you dye your hair whatever color you wanted despite your young age and he bought you anything you asked for.

In your eyes he was the best father in the world but to the rest of the world he was the worst and most irresponsible.

—Fuck those idiots, you had fun, ¿right? —He said, throwing the newspaper with the headline "rapper leaves his little daughter forgotten in a club in the middle of the night" to the other side of the room.

You nodded happily as you took a sip of your apple juice.

—Besides, this is also partly your fault, I told you not to get away from me —He told you, pointing a finger at you accusingly.

He looked at you carefully, your colorful hair and your poorly painted nails of the same color were what stood out the most about your outfit, you were like a smaller version of him so he must have gotten the idea that the rules were not going to work for you.

—Anyway, let's go have breakfast ¿what do you want?

—¡Hot cakes with chocolate chips! —You shouted euphorically, raising your arms, Breakfast was the best part of the day.

—¡You read my mind darling!

With a carefree attitude he walked towards the kitchen with you following him like a baby duck would follow its mother, he wasn't the best example but you were more than proud to follow him.

You and him together were a mess but were more than happy, of course, when he lost all his money it was a problem to deal with but with you things were more fun.

And to think that at first he thought of leaving you in an orphanage, now you were his greatest confidant and official leader of his fan club.

In addition to your carefree and hyperactive behavior, you also inherited him taste for art, only you didn't rhyme, you had a fascination for plays, colorful costumes and extravagant makeup.

Another point that made him proud, your clothes were always colorful and full of life, you stood out from the ordinary just as he did.

Two colorful fish in a big ocean.

Okay tell me if you liked it! I missed Dae-ho but I hope to add him in future projects like this

Thanks for reading💗! And another thing, is anyone here a fan of Lee Dong-wook?

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@jalicecookie @annimoony