#i think the woman behind us in line was making fun of me but she was just jealous since i was the most fuckable person there

[scarah-screeeaaammss]

MY FRANKIE SHOES ARE HERREEEEEE I WISH I COULD POST PICS

[faggottomcruise]

gender is so fucked up

[multific]

The City of Rome at Your Feet

Emperor Geta x Reader

Warnings: hint of insanity (a lot), spoilers for the movie, blood, soft mention of smut

Summary: It was always about the pleasures of the body. But your soul was happiest just around him.

Two souls have never been more intervened.

It was almost frightening.

How can two people be meant for each other so much?

They weren’t much different. Both wicked in their own ways.

Geta being the loud Emperor, while you remained the quiet Empress.

Same temper, same goals and the same love for violence.

You just expressed yourself differently.

You being a lady, were elegant and enticing.

Your marriage was only a wish. A wish which came true.

You prayed to the Gods, hoping for a husband who is just like you.

And you met the Emperors.

Caracalla enjoyed your wit and even if you weren't blood related, called you sister. But Geta enjoyed you as a woman and ordered you to marry him.

You had no choice but to accept.

You never expected for your marriage to turn into such greatness.

It was a marriage filled with fire and blood.

A love filled with passion and power.

And each night, not only your bodies but your souls also melted into one.

You noticed as time kept going on, slowly, the lines between you and Geta slowly blurred.

When Acacius returned from yet another victory. You stood by your husband.

"Emperor Geta, Emperor Caracalla, Empress Y/N." he greeted you as you looked at him, his words failed to get to you after that.

All that you remember is heading back into the palace then Acacius' words finally reached your ears.

"My wife has many subjects. She has to feed them." Acacius said and you looked at him.

Caracalla spoke up before you could.

"And you suggest my sister is not doing a proper job of that?" your eyes snapped at Acacius, who looked at you with regret in his eyes.

"I hope your wife will be able to come and join us for the games tomorrow. I appreciate she is busy with her... subjects, but I don't see why she won't be able to join us."

Caracalla laughed and your eyes never moved from Marcus instead, you took a step closer to him.

"In case you forgot who you were talking to, Marcus." you finished and raised your cup. The man nodded.

---

You enjoyed Gladiator games as much as the next person.

Watching men fight for honour and freedom. It was truly magneficent.

Marcus and his wife were also present after Marcus' lovely speech, you felt a dark presence.

The row behind you were making plans.

But you were a step ahead. Watching Lucilla look at the new Gladiator, Hanno.

You tilted your head and smirked.

You will have some fun with those three.

Your husband squeezes your hand as you turned and smiled at him.

Later that evening, you sent word, asking a guard to report to you as soon as someone visits the new Gladiator.

And someone did.

Lucilla.

You smiled.

"My Love! So happy today?"

"Of course I am. I just found out something very interesting."

"Dare to share?" he grabbed your waist and pulled you close.

"Maybe later, once I have it all laid out."

"I would like to lay you out right now." he moved his head into your neck and started biting your neck.

---

Your husband was yelling, you looked at the traitors in front of you.

"Torture me, but do not lecture me." you smiled at Marcus' words.

"You two are truly stupid." you spoke up and everyone in the room looked at you. "You thought you could save him. Your beloved son. Lucius? Is that his name? You are truly foolish."

"What are you talking about?" asked Lucilla.

"He's dead. Killed him myself." you watched as both looked at you in disbelief.

Then a guard walked out with a head on a plate.

"The same fate Macrinus wished for my husband." You turned to the man sitting on the bench while Lucilla broke down and Marcus moved. "Silly man." with one movement you stepped out of the way as the guards brought him to the floor.

"I wonder how the people of Rome will think of their beloved General once they learn how he attached their Empress. In her sleep none the less. Snuck in and tried to kill her. Sent by his wife, who wished to rule."

"You-" but Marcus couldn't finish his sentence as he was dragged away along with his wife and Macrinus.

"Sister, you are something else truly!" Caracalla laughed and you grabbed a knife and a silver plate, looking at yourself, you cut along your neck. "Genius!" Caracalla continued.

"Why did you have to do that?" Geta rushed over to you, worried as he put his hand on your bleeding neck.

"Proof to the people of my attack. Oh, Geta I was so worried! He came out of nowhere! Hiding in the silk curtains, he told me Lucilla wanted to take my place! I was so scared." your eyes were shiny with tears as Geta shook his head and looked at you.

Caracalla left moments before, laughing still.

Geta watched you and he let out a long sigh. "How did you know?"

"Lucilla was so obvious I'm surprised not everyone noticed. As for Macrinus... I never liked him."

Geta let out a laugh, this is when the healer arrived to check out your neck and put bandages on it.

The next day, you watched Marcus fight and fail.

You managed to put on the show of a life time with your injury, the people of Rome had no reason not to believe you.

All they saw is a hurt poor woman, their Empress.

This not only earned you but also the Emperors sympathy as everyone chanted for Acacius' death.

You felt your husband move his arms around you, pulling you close.

Rome was yours.

Geta was yours and you were only his.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[shitpostingsapphic]

Caitvi headcanons

I've done a lot of serious arcane character analysis the past few days and now I want to take a break from that and do some cute fun little headcanons for caitvi. Let me know if you like them and if I should do more 🥰🥰

The first section will be SFW, I'll mark the NSFW so if you'd like to avoid that you can ❤️

SFW:

Caitlyn always wakes up first. It's a habit she's never outgrown from her time as Commander. Though she no longer suffers from the insomnia she incurred during that time, she still finds herself waking just before sunrise. And it's her favorite time of day, because as the streams of sunlight begin to come in through the window, she gets to watch as they rest on Vi's face and hair, making the pink of her hair glow closer to red. She gets to watch her breath stir the ends of it. Caitlyn also secretly likes the way Vi smells in the morning--a bit musty, a bit like the soap she uses to bathe in before bed. And if she scoots a bit closer to Vi in order to inhale that smell, well, no one is around to watch

Vi, in contrast, is an incredibly heavy and late sleeper. It's nearly lunch when she wakes, now that she's fully settled into her domestic life. And because of this, she's also the last to fall asleep at night. Often, after their *ahem* escapades, Caitlyn is out like a light, and Vi likes to cling to her and look up in her face, almost disbelieving that this beautiful creature is hers, that they are both alive and that she is indeed skin to skin with the woman she loves. So close they almost share a heartbeat.

Caitlyn is stronger than she looks, and she takes great joy in picking Vi up via fireman's carry to tease her. She especially takes pleasure in it because, despite the half hearted protests that Vi emits, she'll always make a remark along the lines of "well at least I have a great view of your ass from here, cait" or "it IS kind of sexy that you're strong enough to pick me up like this".

Vi's picked up cooking now that her life has settled down. It's no Jericho's, in her opinion, but it always brings Caitlyn into the kitchen with a smile, asking what's for dinner this time, as she comes up behind Vi and wraps her arms around her waist, so she figures her cooking can't be too bad.

Caitlyn harbors some insecurity about her worth in regards to Vi for a very long time. She feels as if she won't ever deserve Vi's love after what she's done. This feeling is always magnified on days when the resentment from the Zaunite public makes its way to the Kiramman household via news or telegram or word from the council. Caitlyn withdraws on these days, being short and irritable with Vi. Ever patient, Vi will sit with her, brush her hair away from her face, and kiss her over her eyepatch. "Enough wallowing," she teases. "You're stuck with me, yeah?"

Caitlyn would own a Doberman. No I won't budge on this.

Vi is low-key scared of the Doberman, but the dog doesn't care, and tries to give Vi kisses whenever possible. Vi eventually warms up to said Doberman and calls it her baby.

There is always a vase of violets in their home, at the insistence of Caitlyn.

They both have a shared love language of touch. Oftentimes they communicate through touch. During a fight, Vi will reach out her hand and brush her fingertips against the back of Caitlyn's hand and she'll instantly soften, turning her hand over and entwining their fingers. This makes apologies flow easier.

On that note, Caitlyn loves to brush her fingers through Vi's hair, scratching at the buzzed part on the side of her head. She also brushes Vi's hair often, something Vi has never experienced due to it being so short her whole life. It's a simple pleasure she isn't used to but makes her feel safe and cared for.

NSFW

I've seen a lot of headcanons where Vi has some sort of sexual dysfunction or hesitation to touching and/or being touched, and as someone who experiences a level of this, I don't see it. Me personally, I think sex is very freeing and healing to Vi, especially with Caitlyn. After their first time, she really can't get enough of her. Of course, after they've both been given time to heal from their internal and external wounds incurred from the battle of Piltover.

On that note, any opportunity for Caitlyn to develop an insecurity related to her scarred/lost eye is squashed due to Vi never giving her reason to feel undesirable. Vi is adamant about expressing her undying attraction and desire to Caitlyn, and so Caitlyn never feels shy about her eye when they have sex, whether the eyepatch is on or not.

She does ask about it, though, but only once. Vi answers her very seriously at first, by saying "You're alive, that makes you the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Followed by a smirk and dumb quip something along the lines of "Plus it'll be great for some pirate roleplay."

Service top vi x power bottom caitlyn is canon, but it's not the only dynamic they indulge in.

They make use of the handcuffs. And the spitting. Really they just roleplay that scenario a lot, switching roles depending on their mood.

The first time Caitlyn asked Vi to spit on her again, Vi couldn't stop herself from laughing incredulously. "Didn't know it turned you on that bad. Really?" "Oh shut up, Violet. I was this close to blowing our cover because of you."

Once the initial shock of it has passed, though, it becomes a bit too fun for Vi to indulge Caitlyn and watch as her eyes go glassy.

The first time Caitlyn strapped Vi, her depth perception due to her lost eye worked against her, and instead of sliding home successfully, she missed entirely and fell on top of Vi, which resulted in the both of them laughing. It's something Vi has yet to let Caitlyn live down.

Sex in general is very silly and indulgent and teasing with them. A stark contrast to the very serious and morose and uncertain environment around them. It's freeing, as I stated before. They're free to feel pure joy with each other and it shows up most while they're having sex.

They never have sex angry. It's a safe space for the both of them, and it's never not done in a good headspace.

Vi certified munch is canon

Cait is also a certified munch. Her favorite way to do so is to have Vi ride her face because from there, Vi takes what she wants, and she finds it very cathartic to do that for Vi, to give her a place to take her pleasure and not feel shame.

Caitlyn didn't know she had a hand kink before Vi but apparently she does, but really, can she help herself when now she knows what it feels like to have three of those large fingers inside her?

Caitlyn leans more dominant in the bedroom, but for some reason it's when Vi is fucking her with those fingers, she gets a bit subby, begs a bit more, accepts gladly when Vi presents those fingers to Caitlyn for her to suck off her own cum.

Let me know if you guys would like to see more! 🥰

[masonmontz]

hellooo everyone :) hope you like it. continuation of holidays in Greece, but can be read separately :)

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

fluff and smut  word count: 3k

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Let’s have dinner? Just both of us” Mason said to you three days later. The vacations have been great and you are totally in love with his family, all of them are treating you very well and his mom became your favorite. “I love them all, but I need silence and just your company for a few hours.”

“Your mum invited us to have dinner with them, Mase” you said, brushing your hair after your bath. You spent the morning at the beach and after lunch you spent the rest of the afternoon at the pool. Your arms were hurting from holding the children for so long and throwing them into the air while they were in the water. 

Greece is stunning. You had never been to such a beautiful place, you had never seen such an incredible sky and sea and every day you thanked Mason for taking you. You spent the days watching the sunset holding each other and it was very romantic until Mason made some sexual jokes. 

Mason was lying in bed after a long shower, dressed only in swim shorts. You could see his skin is a little red from days in the sun, even though he has applied sunscreen several times. You, on the other hand, were very tanned and Mason was loving seeing the bikini line on your body. 

“Please, babe, let’s go out with me tonight?” He asked again and you looked at him. He had a lazy smile on his lips and he was lying in the middle of several pillows, everything seemed comfortable and you just wanted to lie next to him for hours without moving. “Tomorrow then? That face of yours tells me there's something more interesting to do.”

“Mase, behave yourself, your family is at home.” You told him and he sighed, thinking about how to change your mind. Yes, you had some fun the first night but after feeling embarrassed at the first breakfast with his family, you decided to take a break from Mason.

And he's crawling for you now.

“I promise I’ll be quiet.” He got up and walked towards you, hugging you from behind and making you stop brushing your hair. He left a few kisses on your bare shoulder because of your strapless blouse and held you against him. You felt his body warm against yours. 

“No. Stop it. We’re not doing anything tonight.” 

“Tomorrow?”

“No, neither.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” He whined and you smiled, watching him rest his chin on your shoulder and stare at the two of you in the mirror. “You’re torturing me. You’ve been walking around in a bikini and short clothes all day and barely gives me a kiss.”

“Don't keep whining.”

“You’re evil, woman.” You laughed at him. “What about let them go out for dinner and we can enjoy this big bathtub again? And the best thing is that we can leave the curtains open.”

“Don't even try, we're going to have dinner with them.” Mason finally accepted and let you go, going back to bed while you finished putting on your makeup. There's a knock on the door and Mason tells to come in, then you see two little girls running across the room to the bed, throwing themselves at Mason. 

“Oh my God, Y/N, look, we have two princesses in the room.” You heard them laughing with him and turned to look at the two of them with a crown on their heads. “I think we lost Poppy and Summer, maybe that's Elsa and Anna.”

“No, uncle Masey, it's me and Poppy.” Summer told him and took off the crown, wanting to show her uncle that she was still her.

“You're right, you're still my girls.” He held them both and twirled them around the room, making them laugh. 

“I think you look beautiful, look at these crowns.” You said and smiled, seeing how happy they were with the compliment.

“Are you ready for dinner?” Mason asked and sat on the bed.

“Yes, nanna asked us to call you and auntie Y/N.” Poppy said and held Summer’s hand, both looking at you and Mason. 

“Girls, we'll go downstairs soon, okay? Tell nanna to wait a few minutes.” As soon as they left, Mason closed the bedroom door again and looked at you. “You're going to leave me with nothing, right?”

“It will just be the two of us in Italy, handsome.” 

“Okay, I'm going to change.” 

You decided to wear a short blue dress, matching Mason who wore a blue shirt of the same tone. 

“Wow, look at you.” You saw him blush when you praised him. “You're so gorgeous, I’m so lucky.”

“Stop making me embarrassed. I'm the lucky one, actually.”

He walked up to you and hugged you, then you brought your arms to his neck, leaving a kiss on his lips. You caressed the back of his neck and he got goosebumps, so you decided it was time to go downstairs.

Dinner was great, in a restaurant overlooking the city lights. You had a great time and were happy to have fit in with Mason's family the same way he fit in with your family. Mason had won your father over to Manchester United, giving tickets and shirts signed by other players. Mason was his favorite person.

You and Mason ordered the same pasta for dinner, and before you noticed, you had already had three glasses of wine while talking to them. Mason smiled at you as you were speaking slowly from the drink, and held your hand on the way home so you wouldn't trip.

“Three glasses of wine, right? Maybe you want a bath now?” Mason smiled mischievously at you. “I will help you.”

“Mason, we're not having sex.” You spoke louder than you should have, but sighed in relief when you saw that the others were further ahead. Mason agreed and you continued walking as you watched the beautiful street to the house.

“Auntie Y/N, can we sleep over with you and Uncle Mason tonight?” Poppy asked as soon as you arrived home, and Summer agreed with her, wanting to sleep with her auntie and uncle too. Mason had a desperate look on his face when he heard the ask, but how could you say no to those two pretty faces?

“Why not? Uncle Mason will love it.” Everyone laughed when they looked at Mason and saw his face. He loved his nieces more than anything, but a night's sleep was essential to him. “Harley, do you want to sleep with us too?”

“No, I'm going to sleep alone. Poppy kicks a lot at night.” 

“Oh, nice.” Mason said ironically, but smiling.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“I feel like I slept with MMA fighters.” Mason complained during the morning, after being kicked several times by his nieces during the night. You got kicked so many times that you decided sleeping on the couch was better, so in the middle of the night you went down to the living room and slept alone. And Mason also complained that it was weird to sleep without holding you. “Look, a bruise on my arm.”

“Stop complaining, Mason.” Debbie scolded him. 

“Now you know why I always have dark circles under my eyes.” Jaz said and Stacey agreed with her. 

“Maybe we can go to a party tonight? The kids can stay with grandma and grandpa.” Lewis came up with the idea and you can't help but think it would be cool.

“Y/N and I are going to dinner tonight. Alone.” It didn't take long for you to disagree with Mason.

“But after dinner we'll go to the party with you, it's a great idea, actually.” Mason looked like he wanted to kill you, but you know he just wanted to be alone with you and try to make out with you. 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Why did you agree to this party? I mean, we could make out in the middle of this place and no one would see us.”

“Stop being a pervert.” Mason ran his hand down your legs as you walked to the place Lewis mentioned.

“I can't help it, you look so hot in that dress.” You put on the dress that was Mason's favorite, a tight and short black dress that left your curves showing. You put your hair in a ponytail and put on light makeup, the sunny days left you blushing and Mason was in love with the sight of you. You also put on heels, also Mason's favorite.

Mason, on the other hand, was wearing an open black shirt, shorts and sneakers. He put on the necklace with your initial and was wearing sunglasses. You've never seen him as hot as he was tonight. You couldn't stop staring at him and he had noticed, so he took advantage of the situation and occasionally smiled at you, ran his hand over your body or whispered in your ear, making you shiver. 

He knows exactly how to tease you. 

The place was crowded and it took you a while to find his family. You saw Lewis and Jaz dancing while the others sat talking. They waved when they saw you and Mason arriving and were soon offered some drinks for the two of you. 

Mason was responsible and didn't drink too much when you were drinking, just in case he needed to take care of you, but that night you told him to allow himself, because you were with his family and nothing could go wrong, so when you noticed, you and Mason had already drunk a little and were dancing together in the middle of the dance floor.

After a while Mason got tired and you continued dancing with his sisters, sometimes you stared at him and ran your hands over your body, teasing him who was sitting between his brother and brothers-in-law. Mason looked at you with desire and you felt your body heat up, knowing you couldn't last long without feeling him all over your body.

For your relief and safety, around 2 am Stacey announced that she was tired and everyone decided to leave, so you and Mason walked side by side down the street to the house. Mason was hugging your shoulders and you were holding him by the waist, leaning on him as you walked.

Everyone went to their rooms when you arrived and you and Mason decided to stay outside a little longer, enjoying the pleasant evening. Mason laid down on a lounge chair and pulled you against him, making you lay on top of him as he held you.

“Shall we go into the pool?” 

“Now?”

“It's hot and the water is nice, let's enjoy some time alone.” You got off of Mason and he sat up, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He left his glasses aside and stood up, taking off his shirt completely, then taking off his sneakers and shorts. “Come on, come in with me.”

“No, I can't be naked, someone might come down and see us.” 

“Babe, please, no one will see us, okay? Let's stay in the furthest part of the pool.” Mason approached and pulled down your dress, leaving you in just your panties, so you quickly hurried and took off your heels. “Look at you, girl.”

Before Mason noticed, you ran and jumped into the pool, hearing his laughter in the background. While you were laughing, he also ran and jumped into the pool with you, spilling water everywhere. 

Mason pulled you against him, still smiling, admiring you so close to him. You hugged him and you spent a few seconds enjoying the pool water until Mason started running his hands over your body. You wrapped your legs around his hips and let him press you against him. 

“Mase, please, everyone is home.” He pushed his hips against yours, making you gasp when you felt the volume. “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Cause I can't take another minute away from my girl, I want to feel her and make her feel so good.” 

“What am I going to do with you, Mason Mount?”

“You can start by giving me a kiss.”

Mason kissed you and took you to the farthest part of the pool, so if anyone came down, they wouldn't see you two. You kissed his neck and pulled his hair, hearing him moan against your mouth. 

Mason put his hand between your legs and pressed your clit, and you couldn't hold back a moan, ‘cause Mason always made you feel good.

“You like that, don't you?” Mason lowered his head a little and took your nipple into his mouth, licking and biting lightly. He continued with his thumb on your clit and you were already moving to ride his fingers. “Are you wet for me, love?” 

“Yes, Mason, please, I want more.” 

“See? This is so good, I don't know why you were avoiding me.” He licks your neck. “I wanna make you feel so good.” 

Your tummy was doing somersaults as he licked and touched you, you could feel him all over your body but it wasn’t enough, so you moved your hand to his cock, hard and ready to fuck you. 

Mason took your hand off his dick and pressed you to the edge of the pool, fitting himself between your legs and making you feel his hard cock on your pussy, making the moves to turn you on. You closed your eyes and let your head fall on Mason's shoulders as he touched you, the wind made you shiver and your nipples hardened.

“Fuck” Mason whispered when he felt your nipples against his chest. Mason held you and pushed you out the pool, so you sat on the edge while he stayed in the water. “Right where I want you.” 

“Please, Mase.” 

Mason took off your underwear and left you naked on the edge of the pool, so in a few seconds he already had his tongue on your clitoris.

“Oh my God” you cried and felt his tongue in the right place, your body melting with his tongue slowly sliding over your clit and you couldn’t hide how good it was. 

Alternating between long licks and quick movements, back and forth, he drags his tongue between your slick folds and you can't stop moaning and murmuring, and he knows exactly where to touch or use his tongue, knowing your body well.

"Yeah, keep doing that, Mase.” Loud and desperate moans came out of your mouth, Mason was getting harder and harder in his underwear and he took one hand to his cock, squeezing it with his hand. 

“You wanna cum in my tongue?” Mason inserted a finger into you, making you whimper with excitement. “Cum for me, yeah?” 

“I’m so close, this is so good.” You held Mason's hair and rolled against his mouth, pressing your pussy against his tongue. “Oh-”. 

Mason sucked you and licked you all over while you came in his mouth, he moaned as you lay on the floor, just feeling the orgasm through your body. If you weren't lying on the floor, you would have fallen.

“Look at you, so beautiful after cum in mouth.” Mason left kisses on your thigh. “Let me fuck you, please?” 

“Yes.” 

“Right.” Mason got out of the pool and helped you get up, walking over to a lounger and laying you down on it. “Lay down for me, love.” You did as he asked and soon Mason climbed onto the lounger too. “Wow, look at this pussy glistening at me.”

Mason pumped himself a couple of times before penetrating you. He groaned when he felt you around him, tight and warm. He held your legs around his hips as he bent down to kiss you, Mason closed his eyes and laid his head in the crook of your neck, lightly biting the skin as he fucked you.

“Oh, my- fuck, Y/N, your pussy feels so good around my cock.” You dug your nails into his back and he groaned, but you put your hand over his mouth so he wouldn't make a noise and wake someone up. 

“Be quiet.” You warned him.

“I can’t.” Mason kissed you again, a lazy kiss as his hips sped up against you. “I love you. I love you so much.” Mason whispered in your ear and you moaned, putting your hand over your mouth after the loud noise.

“I love you too.” 

“Cum for me once again?” You both let out grunts and he continues to thrust into you. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, Mase.” Mason became desperate and you almost screamed as you once again felt the orgasm throughout your body, you felt Mason tremble on top of you as you felt him spurt inside you. “Oh, fuck.”

“Oh my God.” Mason groaned. You giggled as Mason fell on top of you, stroking his hair. “Seriously, it's the best feeling in the world.”

You spent a few minutes lying in silence, just listening to each other's breathing.

“Put on my shirt, let's go up quickly so no one sees us.” Mason got up and put on his underwear, taking the shirt he was wearing at the party and handing it to you to wear. He picked up your dress and heels from the floor, carrying them for you. He held out his hand and you took it, then the two of you walked up the stairs while laughing softly.

“We look like teenagers.” You said and hugged him when he closed the bedroom door.

“I don't care, I just want to be with you.”

[sleepynoons]

jing yuan x f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: nudity, suggestive content

notes: pls lmk if i'm missing any tags or warnings. anyway, nothing explicit this time, experimenting more w/ pieces that heavily focus on sexual tension + build-up. anyway x2, not sure how to describe the setting of this piece. still uses some hrs concepts like aeons. jing yuan is rich, the reader is his maid, and both use more formal language. this was a fun exercise!

THERE ARE a lot of rumors surrounding your master. you hear them when you go grocery shopping, visit the tailor, pick up the dry cleaning, drop off lunches at the front desk on days that he’s busy. some of them are about you – who are you? his wife? mistress? there’s no way you’re just a friend, right?

you’re trained to maintain a stoic facade, but inside, you can’t help but be entertained. you are none of those things, and one can only dream of sharing such a bond with him. you’re content with simply being his maid – you mustn’t tread closer.

on a wooden tray, you neatly arrange a cup of chamomile tea, another cup of warm, honeyed milk, and a folded newspaper of today’s news. before you leave the kitchen, though, you make sure to drop a few treats into a feeding bowl and rub at mimi’s stomach, your master’s beloved dog.

“your father needs some time alone,” you say to the animal. seemingly able to understand your words, mimi’s ears droop at a slight angle and she licks at your fingertips, seeking consolation. “he’ll be out soon, i promise.”

you get back up, wash your hands, and pick up the tray, heading over to your master’s bathroom.

from the hallway, you can hear the sound of water splashing and sloshing. if you strain a bit more, you can arguably make out some humming, nonsensical and haphazard in melody. when you reach the door, you hear submerging, and you know you’re right on time.

you knock on the door twice. “master, may i come in?”

you hear a faint noise of affirmation, no doubt muffled by the wall, and carefully enter without spilling the contents of the tray.

you’re greeted with a dazzling smile and glimmering droplets of soap and water slipping down naked skin.

your master greets you, fine smile lines outlining his rosy lips and delicate nose. “how many times have i told you that just my name will suffice?”

“master jing yuan,” you say as you place his drinks and paper on a designated drawer beside the tub, “how many times have i told you that you shouldn’t ask me to join you when you’re in the bathroom?”

“but who else can help me with my unruly mane of silver?” he pouts, tone feigning innocence.

“your hair isn’t unruly.”

“did you not call it that last time?”

you click your tongue. your master chuckles and turns away from you to face the other end of the tub. you grab a stool, hand him his newspaper, and take your place behind him. with a brush in hand, you unravel the red ribbon tying his hair and, with quick, gentle strokes, run the brush through the thick layers. you didn’t mean to call his hair unruly before, but you think there’s quite a bit of truth to it anyway. you also note that his hair has gotten quite long.

“master jing yuan, perhaps it’s time for a trim?” you suggest.

your master hums and leans back so that your hands can reach the crown of his head. “you are right. i shall leave it to you, then?”

shaking your head, you respond, “you really ought to get it done at a professional salon. i can only do so much.”

“you are a woman of many talents. i am sure you will do just fine,” he reassures. you huff in protest.

as your master’s only taking a soak today, you plait his hair into a thick braid before tying it up into a bun. you hand him his cup of tea, which is no longer scalding, and stand up to leave.

“oh!” he suddenly exclaims. “i seem to have forgotten my bathrobe.” he looks up at you expectantly, and you nod in understanding.

“i’ll go grab it. i’ll be right back.” you bow quickly before closing the door behind you on the way out and heading towards the laundry room.

you take your time. really, you needed an excuse to leave the bathroom. you’re glad that your master’s such a big fan of bath bombs, or else you’d see everything… you pat harshly at your warm cheeks to break free from your reverie. don’t tread any closer. you’re behaving like a schoolgirl experiencing her first love, and you can only groan internally at yourself. but you can’t blame yourself either – anyone would fall in love with your master if they know him the way you do. he’s so irresistible, and having been his maid for so long has only enabled you to witness more of his charisma and charm. you sigh, sitting on the floor in front of the dryer as you wait for it to de-wrinkle your master’s robe.

you return ten minutes later, both for your own wellbeing and to also give your master some time to himself.

“master jing yuan, i’m back. may i come in?”

instead of a reply, though, the door cracks open, and your master, wearing nothing but a towel tied loosely around his hips, appears before you. you yelp and rush to cover your eyes. he simply laughs at your antics before grabbing you by the arm and leading you into the bathroom.

“what – what are you –“

“i hurt my arm today, so i will need your help putting my robe on. it is quite heavy, after all.”

you don’t know where to look. you certainly can’t look at the bathroom mirror that covers the top-half of one wall or the marble on the other that shines and reflects so clearly. you opt to close your eyes and hold the robe up by the collar.

“this is hardly appropriate,” you mutter, embarrassment and nervousness coloring your tone. as a result, you try to distract yourself with another subject. “besides, couldn’t you have told me earlier? i would’ve prepared something in advance had i known.”

“i just noticed the bruise as well. seems i was a little careless today.” he then chuckles – at himself or you, you’re not sure.

you remark, “you? careless? that hardly goes together.”

your master lets you know that he’s put on his sleeves, so you step away, eyes still closed. 

immediately, he hums with obvious disapproval. “hm? why are you backing away?”

you sputter, “m-master jing yuan, i should not be here! if you could just – i don’t know – turn around or something, i can –“

“i have turned around.”

you sigh in relief, happy that he’s obedient for once. your master is often relentless in his teasing and tricks, and you’re grateful that he’s granting you mercy in this moment. so you open your eyes, ready to find your way to the door –

your master is standing dangerously close, so that you’re eye-to-eye with him. from this view, you can also see that his chest is barely covered, knot slowly slipping undone.

“master!” you gasp. the proximity, the surprise, the challenging look in his eyes – they’re all driving you mad.

he clears his throat. “jing yuan.”

“master jing yuan.”

“jing yuan.”

“oh, for aeons’ sake, jing yuan! you’re not wearing your robe properly!”

jing yuan gloats. he then says in a low, low whisper, “my hands have cramped up. can you do it for me instead?” he speaks directly into your ears, and you want to scream.

shaking, you stretch out your trembling hands and take the ends of the belt. you can feel jing yuan’s hot breaths fanning your cheek, and you can even smell the faint trace of lavender from the bath bomb. your fingers are too clumsy, though, and you fail multiple times in properly tying the belt. after a few more fruitless attempts, jing yuan reaches down, softly grabbing your hands, and gently guides them.

“and… like this,” he breathes. even when you’ve secured the knot, though, he doesn’t let go.

don’t tread any closer. “j-jing yuan,” you whimper. “please…”

his hands inch up, gliding from your palms to your forearms to your elbows. he does it so slowly, so seductively, so intentionally. he tugs you impossibly a little closer, and now you can feel the heat of his chest through your uniform. then, jing yuan rests his head on your shoulders, and his lips ghost the sensitive skin of your neck, causing you to shiver and shudder at the sensation. the two of you just stand there, him taking deep breaths, you holding yours.

finally, after a few minutes, jing yuan breaks the silence. “i can no longer employ you, my dearest.”

you feel faint. you’re never escaping the gossip now.

[mattsmunchkin]

bed chem

paige bueckers X south carolina!reader

contains: smut, draft paige, use of y/n, cussing, lots of plot (i hate smut w/o it)

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this is my first time writing smut so please bear with me and give me feedback because i am unfortunately a virgin. this also would've been out sooner but college is beating my ass so this took over 4 days to write.

you check yourself out in the bathroom mirror as your makeup artist adds some finishing touches. you're dressed in a long sheer dress with your undergarments slightly visible. the dress is skintight and hugs your curves in all the right ways. your hair is pulled back in a slick low ponytail with your long curls draping along your exposed back.

with one last look and approval from your fashion team, you're heading out the door and down to your limo outside.

to say you're nervous would be an understatement. you're projected to be the top pick, but with caitlin clark right on your neck in stats, tonight could go anywhere.

obviously, you would be happy with whatever pick you got, but once the mock draft came out a few months ago, it's all that you could think about. not to mention, social media has been non-stop sharing their opinions about who they think should get the top spot.

"how you feeling, l/n?" your manager, morgan, asks from beside you.

"ready to get tonight over with." you laugh nervously.

"tonight is supposed to be fun. no matter what happens." she grabs your hand and squeezes it. you give her a small smile.

"i know. i'm just ready to be back on the court." you look out the window at the passing lights of new york city. how have you never visited this place before?

"that makes two of us," she lets go of your hand as she leans her head back with a sigh, "this offseason has been beating my ass. i don't think i can spend another day sitting in an office."

"sounds like i need to scout for a new manager." you tease as she lightly punches you in the arm. you two share a laugh as the car pulls up to the venue.

the entrance is lined with paparazzi who anxiously wait for the next attendee to arrive. you take one last deep breath and shake the nerves as you step out of the door that was held open for you. you thank the man as you follow morgan towards the entrance of the building. she steps aside as you stand in front of the cameras and pose for some pictures.

as you begin to walk away you hear commotion from behind you. you turn and see a woman dressed in a full white louis vuitton suit posing confidently for the cameras as they shout multiple commands and compliments.

"who is that?" you ask morgan who is on her phone trying to figure out where to go. she follows your line of vision.

"paige bueckers. she's a red shirt senior guard at connecticut and projected to be the number one pick in next year's draft. she's a powerhouse." she goes back to her phone as she takes a call.

you're not sure how you haven't noticed her before. south carolina played uconn, right? you suddenly can't think straight as the woman 10 feet in front of you has captivated your thoughts without even trying.

lost in a trance, you didn't even realize that she's now standing in front of you.

"hey beautiful." she stares down at you with a smirk on her face. her eyes stealing a quick glance at your body.

"hi." you smile up at her as you stare into her blue eyes. a blush creeping onto your face, the chemistry between you almost instant.

"i'm paige." she extends her hand towards you. you're taken aback by the formality, but your hand quickly meets hers.

"i'm y/n."

"the gamecock?" she asks, earning a nod from you. "i've heard a lot about you." your hands disconnect as she puts hers into her pockets.

"oh yeah? like what?" you smirk, crossing your arms.

before she can answer, morgan is calling your name saying that the ceremony is about to start. you glance back at paige who is also being called by her team. you two share another look before going your separate ways.

once in your seat, your nerves start to hit you all at once. mixed with the flooding thoughts of the woman you met not even 5 minutes ago, you're not sure how long you'll be able to sit through this.

opening remarks are through and the indiana fever takes the stage to make the first-round pick. you take a glance around the room and see paige seated a few rows back in the crowd. she winks at you before bringing her attention back to the stage.

"with the first overall pick in the 2024 wnba draft, the indiana fever select y/n l/n from the university of south carolina!"

cheers erupt around you as a smile takes over your face. you instantly pull morgan into a hug before making your way onto the stage to take a picture with the fever jersey.

you thank the woman on stage and wave at the crowd as you head back to your seat.

the rest of the night drags on as they go through the rest of the draftees. you and paige steal frequent glances throughout the ceremony as tensions grow between the two of you.

you were absolutely captivated by her at first glance and with the smirks and winks she's sending your way so frequently, you could feel the desire between your legs growing by the minute.

afterwards, you are outside on the carpet once again as the media broadcasters interview the stars of the night. you are bombarded with questions ranging from growing up playing basketball to what you're looking forward to the most as a part of the fever.

during one of your interviews, you feel a hand brush against your waist as someone passes behind you. you look and see paige smirking back at you before she turns and walks out of the venue. you bring your attention back to the interviewer and pray you don't look as flustered as you feel.

before you know it, you're back into the limo you arrived in. you let out a long-awaited breath you didn't know you were holding.

"you haven't even been a part of the team for a whole day and season tickets are already sold out." morgan says with a grin on her face. you smile and shake your head.

"you think that would make me feel better." you lean your head back and close your eyes.

"remember, you don't have to prove yourself to anyone. you earned your spot. all you have to do is keep doing what you've been doing the past 4 years." she reassures, placing a hand on your bouncing knee.

you flash her a small smile before returning your gaze to the city lights outside.

the rest of the ride is silent as your social battery died a little too early in the night for your liking. you were ready to get back to the hotel and take a long shower to...debrief.

once you've said your goodbyes to morgan and your team, you walk to your room as fast as your feet can take you. you close the door behind you and lean against it with a sigh. your phone buzzes with a notification from instagram.

kamoreaarnold wants to send you a message!

your brows furrow at the unfamiliar name. you click the notification and open the chat.

KK Arnold

hey girly pop! i gotta question for you

You

do i know you?

KK Arnold

don't worry abt it

yk my girl paige?

You

what abt her

KK Arnold

so basically she's like obsessed with you and wanted me to ask you for your number

You

oh?

why didn't she ask me herself?

KK Arnold

she scared

so is that a yes?

You

yes

*your number*

you send your number to this kk girl and get ready to get in the shower. you glance at yourself in the mirror and look over tonight's outfit. trying to convince yourself that you're no longer a gamecock.

before you can let your emotions get the best of you, you open tiktok to distract yourself. you scroll mindlessly until a video pops up that makes your eyes go wide.

an edit of paige somehow made its way to your for you page consisting of multiple clips of her from tonight. you watch the clips flash on your screen to 'so anxious' by ginuwine. you feel like the wind got knocked out of you at the way she was so confident in front of a camera. it's like she knows the affect she has on people.

as if it was planned, a call from a random number takes over the screen. you smirk with the hope of a certain person being on the other side and quickly collect yourself before answering.

"hello?"

"hey pretty girl." you hear the same intoxicating voice from earlier, only this time it's low and husky.

"hi paige." you say sweetly. you bring your legs closer together at the instant effect she had on you from purely her voice.

"how you feeling? about getting drafted and what not."

"oh i'm feeling great! just ready to be back on the court and stuff." you curse yourself at your awkwardness. you barely know this woman and all of a sudden, she has your thoughts in a knot.

"oh yeah?" you can hear the smirk in her voice. the two words making your head spin.

"mhm" seems to be the only thing you can push out right now.

your thoughts are everywhere at once and you can't seem to focus on whatever paige is talking about. you curse yourself for how easily you're allowing yourself to be enthralled by her at such a high level. you keep picturing her lips and how she would wet them with her tongue every so often. you can only imagine how soft they are and how good they would feel-

"y/n?" her voice brings you back to reality as your eyes shoot open. you realize you didn't hear a single thing she had said.

"yeah! sorry, i uh...what were you saying?" you pinch the bridge of your nose. why are you fumbling this woman so hard right now?

"what y'thinking about, baby?" the pet name rolling off her tongue effortlessly fills your head with sinful thoughts. you can hear the smirk that never seems to leave her face and the hushed tone in her voice.

"can you come over?" the question leaves your mouth before you can detest, and you hope it doesn't backfire. you couldn't spend another moment separate from this woman.

"i'll be there in 10." she responds almost immediately. she hangs up before you can respond. your mind starts to race as you think about having paige bueckers in your hotel room, all to yourself.

the next 10 minutes could not have come any slower. you spent them pacing your room and only thinking about her hands all over your body. how her lips would feel. her breath on your neck and down your body.

God, you hoped she was still in that damn suit.

you hear a knock on your door and immediately jump up from your seat on the bed and walk towards the door. with a deep breath you open the door and are met with the same paige you met on the red carpet 3 hours ago.

her lips are immediately on yours in a heated kiss. her hands set on your waist pulling you closer as yours find their way to her neck. your lips move together harmoniously, as if they've done this a million times before.

a muffled groan escapes her lips when your teeth sink into her bottom lip, her grip on your waist tightening. she moves her hands to your backside signaling you to jump to which you oblige.

she carries you over to the bed and sets you down, the kiss never faltering. her lips make their way to assault your neck as your breathless moans fill the room. it's music to her ears. your hands have been roaming her body when they tug at her top.

"take it off." you breathe out. she smirks before leaning up and tugging the top off, leaving her bare. you lean up to kiss her stomach as your tongue runs up her abs not breaking eye contact.

"fuck baby." she croaks out. she reaches behind you and begins taking your dress off. you lay back down as you lift your hips to allow her to completely strip you. her eyes roam your naked body, taking you in. "you're so beautiful."

her lips reattach with yours. her hands play with her belt buckle, undoing it and sliding her pants off. you wrap your legs around her waist and pull her closer to you.

"need you." you say between kisses. you buck your hips forward needing to feel something.

"you want me?" she reattaches her mouth to your neck, leaving more marks. you hum a response. your mind is fogged with anticipation and desire. "use your words baby."

"yes, fuck, yes i need you paige." she removes her lips from your neck and looks into your eyes with a lust-filled gaze.

"ride my face."

you're taken aback by her words. she lays down next to you and you waste no time crawling on top of her. you hover over her before her hands grab your ass and bring you to her mouth.

you moan out at the sudden contact. your hand snaps to her head and tugs at her hair, earning a muffled moan from her that vibrates against your core. her tongue runs through your folds and circles your bundle of nerves.

"fuck paige," you grind your hips on her tongue as you two hold eye contact, "so good baby."

you lean back onto your hand as your other makes its way to her work on her core. your fingers work in quick circles as she moans out, throwing her head back before reattaching to you. her tongue slides into you while her nose slightly rubs against your clit as she does so.

you bring your fingers to your mouth, sucking on them before returning them to enter her. you curl them while moving them in and out as your thumb rubs her bundle of nerves.

"holy shit y/n," she removes her mouth as she moans before replacing it with her own fingers. quickly rubbing your core as your pace quickens with hers. you're both a breathless, moaning mess. your eyes squeeze shut with your mouth agape as the knot in your stomach builds. "you're so beautiful baby," she husks before returning her mouth to your heat.

how can she talk so sweet when doing such bad things?

the way her constant moans would vibrate against you and mixed with her mouth moving in ways you could only imagine, you weren't gonna last long at all.

"m' close paige." you moan as your pace in her quickens to a speed you didn't know you were capable of. her mouth somehow finds a way to match as she hums against you, signaling that she was too.

after a few more quick thrusts, the knot in your stomach snaps as the two of you moan out loud whines and profanities, not caring about people hearing. you work each other through your highs before pulling your fingers out and bringing them to your mouth. you suck them while maintaining eye contact with the breathless girl under you who kisses your core before pulling away from you, her face glistening from your orgasm.

you move off of her and plop down next to her as you both catch your breath. she wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you in. she pulls the covers over the two of you as you share a kiss, this one gentle and sweet. you pull away and rest your head on your hand as her fingers run through your hair.

"that was so much better than i imagined." you lightly laugh as your legs intertwine with paige's.

"you imagined it before?" she asks in a teasing tone. you lightly slap her arm as she lets out a laugh.

"don't make it weird." you wrap your arm around her as you lay your head on her chest as sleep threatens to take over your body. there's a moment of silence between you.

"i hope you know this wasn't a one-time thing." she speaks up, vulnerability lacing her voice. you smile against her.

"well i look forward to the next time then." her arms tighten around your waist as she pulls you closer. she places a kiss on the top of your head.

"goodnight beautiful."

"goodnight p."

[jasmines-library]

Hi. Um... i have been craving angst

👀 and my angsty mind has been making up... scenarios, but like would love them typed out so i can read 💀 i live your work, p.s. <3

anyways, would like to ask for something along these lines:

reader is a batsibling

is kidnapped

fam cant find her for a few days and is panicked

they find her somewhere, blindfolded and tied up, on the ground and caked in blood

they get her some med stuff and whatever

and they're like how did this happen so they somehow get cctv or duke uses his powers or something and finds out that they've been beaten for info

and they get like really angry and all that jazz

:D rest up to you!

would be great if you did it 🥺

but i understand if it's too much

love youuuu 💖/platonic ehe

okay, i will excuse myself from your asks now. byeee

Loaded Silence

hello hello! Thanks for requesting. This was super angsty, but as you put I crave it too... ❤️

Warnings: Kidnapping, Torture (not very graphic), fear, medical scenes.

Word Count: 1.5k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

It had happened unexpectedly. You were there one second and gone the next. In a blink of an eye. Nothing more nothing less. That was all it took for you to slip away. Damian could have sworn he was only gone for a minute. To stretch his legs and grab something to eat. But that was all it took for them to sneak in. Quiet as a mouse they crept in, splitting through the open window at the back of the room. Leaving it open had been a careless mistake, but who was to think that you would have been taken in the safety of your own home? 

They grabbed you roughly from behind. A set of rough hands pinning you to the sofa, clamped tightly over your mouth as another worked to tie a heavy bandage around your eyes. You had squirmed feebly trying to gain some leverage. Your training desperately tried to kick in but at that moment, you were not a vigilante. You were Y/N Wayne: A citizen, child to the wealthiest man in Gotham and utterly fucked. 

You had no choice after that than to allow them to drag you downtown, you had kicked and cried blindly, desperate for one of your brothers to chase after you. But whoever was gripping you tight enough to bruise was clearly experienced and you knew that they stood no chance so unexpectedly. 

When they tossed you down on the ground, you thought it would offer some relief. The room was dank, dusty and smelt of water rot and mould. This was the part where they would send a ransom note to Bruce and he and your brothers would come charging in sooner or later. But you had never been more wrong. 

“We know who you are, Wayne.” A voice spoke. Feminine but not soft spoken. Threatening. “Or would you prefer Raven?”

Your stomach dropped as bile burned the back of your throat. You knew you could fight now, but you were defenceless weaponless with your hands and feet bound together. 

“The fuck do you want?” You spat, though the effect of the venom in your words was lost for you looked so helpless. 

“Bold of you to speak to me that way, given your predicament.” The woman chuckled, prodding you with her foot. “You’re here as a sort of…payment.”  She mused. “I suppose you could call it that.”

“What?” 

“My husband.” She started, moving away from you. You could hear her pacing around the room but you  could only conjure up images in your mind. “Leader of the greatest crime suricate in Gotham. And now, he’s dead. Rotting in some coffin in the ground, thanks to your father.” 

She moved closer again. Her heels clattered against the floor. 

“He took away the only thing that ever mattered to me!” She gripped your wrist, lifting you up off the floor and leaning into your face. “So now, I’m going to take away one of his toys until someone tells me how to get him out! His precious little girl. Oh how I can’t wait to see the look on all of their faces when they see you. That is of course…after we have a little fun.”

~

There was still no sign of you. And it felt as if they had searched every inch of the city. The high and the low but still nothing. No one had slept much in the three days you had been missing. Their nights were either spent searching for you on patrol or laying awake staring blankly at the ceiling as their minds conjured up the worst. None of them said it outloud but the possibility that you were dead loomed over them. But no one ever said anything. They just continued to search in silence. It seemed like Babs and Tim hadn’t torn their eyes away from the screens since Damian came barging into the room three days ago, doubled over and panting as he revealed the news. The only time they ever moved was to head to the bathroom or to make another mug of lukewarm coffee. 

The rest of the family were out on patrol. That was what they were calling it anyway. Really they were looking for you. And still there had been no sign until Dick stumbled upon a window. It was low down to his feet covered by concrete as though the building had just sunk into the concrete. And when he tried to peer inside, it seemed to be covered by something on the inside. 

It could have been nothing.

But Dick was desperate. 

He called over the other vigilantes with a signal on his com. They all came tricking over towards him silently through the city. Some bubbling with hope and anticipation, but all dreading the worst. 

Moving around the back of the house, Dick pushed open the door. 

~

You had never been more scared in your entire life. Everything ached, burned or stung. From what you could feel there didn’t seem to be a single inch of your skin that wasn’t covered in blood. It clung sticky to your skin, cracking every time you managed to bring yourself to shift against the floor.

She had continued her onslaught for hours, trying to force answers that she knew you would never be able to give her from your chapped lips. She would leave every once in a while, returning silently to catch you off guard with another round of pain. You couldn’t see her: the blindfold still remained firmly around your eyes, so you had to anticipate when she would return as you cowered against the back wall in a pool of your own blood. You were unsure how long it had been since she tossed you into the room. Without the relief of sunlight, your woozy mind had lost track of time. 

And then a pair of hands gripped your shoulders. And you screamed, trying to recoil away from them. You didn’t make it far. Your body was too weak.

“No! No please! No more!” You begged, tears dribbling down your cheeks to mingle among the dirt and blood. “I already told you I-I don’t know anything! Please!”

“Woah, woah.” It was Dick’s voice that broke through to you, though they had all called out to you. It was him who had reached out to you in the first place, hesitant that the smallest touch would break you. As soon as they were met with resistance they knew you were here. And they fought as fast as they could to get to you. Praying that they wouldn’t find you as you had. Sprawled out across the floor in a pool of your own blood as you struggled to breathe. “It’s us.”

“We’re here, Kid.” Jason leaned forwards to remove the blindfold from your eyes as Dick tried to support you in his arms. You squiremed weakly, still untrusting. But the minute the blindfold was off and you had finished adjusting to the onslaught of light. You broke.

You collapsed into Dicks arms, sobbing and shaking. He cupped the back of your head with his hands and held you, giving Jason and Duke a nervous glance. Your blood had already begun to stain the front of his suit as you whimpered in his arms, clinging to him tightly. 

When he tried to shift you, you let out a sob and clung to him tighter. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had hurt you or because you were scared he was going to leave you. Probably both.

“Y/N?” Jason whispered, moving to crouch by your side. “ We’re here now. We’re going to get you home okay? Can you tell us what happened?”

You shook your head and buried your face into Dicks chest trying to block out the pain.

Eyes turned to Duke who watched you with sad eyes. They observed as he surveyed the room, taking in the horrors that the light revealed. And he couldn’t help the gasp that slipped out of his lips. 

He paled at what he saw. Winced at the way your face contorted with pain as the woman towered over you, tossing you about the room like a ragdoll and slashing you with various tools as she screamed at you. He saw how she would catch you off guard by sneaking up on you in the dark as some cruel game to satisfy her sick amusement. He felt sick. 

In the time it took for him to see the echo of your agonies, Dick had managed to coax enough for him to stand so they could bring you out of the room and get you urgently to medical attention. 

The two looked at him expectantly. And once he had managed to stutter out what he had seen, Jason was tensely clenching his jaw and fists. 

Someone was going to bleed tonight. He was going to make sure of that.

Taglist:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

[xhoneygirlxx]

In My Feels

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Steve’s heart now belongs to the pretty woman who always comes in with her two adorable kids. When he finally decides to make a move, he’s shocked to find out she’s not their mom.

warnings: fluff. Barista!Steve. Reader and Steve are both in their 20’s. Nanny!Reader. Modern!au. Readers ethnicity/skin tone is not mentioned. Pictures above are used for aesthetic purposes only. Shitty writing/grammar errors, not proofread.

*if I miss anything please let me know.

a/n: day two of my birthday bash has finally arrived!! I’m so grateful for the amount of love and support you guys have given me. Although this is my birthday week, I wanted to spend it with you guys and give us both something we can enjoy :) I love every single one of you guys and I hope you like this!

Now I’m in my feels 

Way up in the clouds somewhere now 

Don’t know what’s real 

Working at the Java Cup, Steve dealt with a lot of different people. Tired students, doctors and nurses coming and going from shifts, and everyone in between. During the six months of his employment there only one customer seemed to catch his attention, you. 

From the moment you walked in he knew he was fucked. With one kid on your hip and the other in the stroller, you already had him in the palm of your hand. No matter what, rain or shine, you and your two kids always came in with bright smiles. Although a lot of your interactions were small talk or your older son trying to, his heart infatuation for you every single time. 

You were so fucking beautiful and Steve was nothing but a fool for you. So many times he would go home and just pray that you weren’t taken, that maybe somewhere written in the stars there was a chance for him. 

Steve wanted to ask you out but every single time he chickened out, throwing out multiple cup sleeves that had horrible puns written on them in the process. Ever since getting broken up with by Nancy, his self esteem and confidence dropped. No matter how many times his best friend and coworker, Robin, tried to talk some sense into him, he just couldn’t do it. 

It was comical watching him stutter and blush scarlet every time you would speak, tripping over his words like it was his first time ever talking. Because he was so smitten with you, his insecurities grew and poking fun at him any time he would think about possibly asking you out.

Here you were, a pretty mom with two adorable kids that he adored, so sweet and kind to him, and so far out of his league. There was no pot at the end of this rainbow for Steve, but he continued to chase it in hopes that maybe, just maybe he was wrong.

Now it's been six months and Steve has run out of steam, his legs growing tired and his lungs burning with exhaustion with how long he's been running. So, he's decided that it's time to give up on his mission to of getting to the finish line.

There was no point to continue trying, not when you're probably more than happy with the father of your children, going home to your white picket fence and happy home. So he pulled back, watched from behind the counter, and continued to daydream about the life he's always wanted.

“You know you could just go talk to her, right?” Robin’s voice is louder than she thinks, the low music and hum of the espresso machine doing little to cover it up. 

���Say it louder, why don’t you.” Rolling his eyes, Steve continues to wipe down the counter that he’s been working on for the past ten minutes. 

“I’m just sayin’, it’s kind of pathetic and creepy that you’re always staring.” Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, the brunette girl runs her hands down her black apron. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?” 

“What’s the worst-” Turning on his heel quickly, Steve stares at his best friend with wide eyes, “Robin, there is a laundry list of things that could go wrong.” 

“Yeah? Try me.” Crossing her ankle over the other, Robin leans on the sink with a waiting look.

“Firstly, she could be married,” Steve starts counting on his finger. 

“No ring on her finger.” Robin counters. 

“Well she’s a mom with two kids, I doubt she has time for a twenty something, no good, barista that barely has his life together.” 

“EEEEEEEE WRONG,” She makes a loud buzzer noise, “One you aren’t no good, you’re actually a really great person who needs to see just how amazing he is. Two, you may be a barista who can barely keep his life together but, you’re reliable and take care of yourself, not to mention you have your own car and place, more than other twenty somethings. And lastly, you’re also a mother to a group of teenagers, so it works perfectly.” 

Dropping his hands down to his sides, Steve lets the words settle into his heart. He was a good person, he did have a good impression with the gaggle of kids he sometimes watches, and he did have some of his life together.

“Okay well, she could reject me and I will not only lose more of my confidence but I’ll also lose my favorite customer.” Sighing in defeat, he whips the rag that still sits in his hand over his shoulder. "Either way, I gave up on that dream a long time ago."

Robin shakes her head, stepping forward to the boy she calls her best friend and shakes him by the shoulders. “You are Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington! There was a reason everyone called you king Steve and it wasn’t just because you were a huge dick.” 

“Hey!!” Steve raises his voice in defeat and she waves him off continuing her peptalk. 

“Listen, I know that lady killer is somewhere in there,” She pokes at his chest, “So you’re gonna put your big boy panties on, walk up to her and ask her out! I’m sick and tired of watching you look all sad and depressing, so you’re going to do as I say or I’ll do it for you.” Smiling brightly at him, the girl taps him lovingly on the shoulder.

Robin may be a lot of things, including annoying, but a liar is not one of them. Steve knows that she will one hundred percent walk up to you, throw him under the bus, with a mega-watt smile as she does it.

Watching his friend walk around the counter with a broom and dust pan in hand, her head turns to wear your sat at a table by the front window, talking to your older son, rocking your baby in the stroller with your foot. Turning her attention back to Steve, she smiles wickedly and turns slightly like she’s heading your way. Anxiety rises in the back of his throat, heartbeat picking up and banging hard in his chest.

“Fine, I’m going just- fuck off.” It comes out through gritted teeth. Running a shaking hand down the front of his apron, Steve rounds the counter muttering something under his breath.

As he walks to the table, Robin gives him two thumbs up and an exaggerated smile to which he replies by simply throwing a middle finger up at her.

As he steps closer to your table the thought of turning back around and hiding in the back room comes into mind.

There’s no pot of gold here, only gray clouds and roaring thunder. He can turn back now and continue his sorrowful journey of pining.

But then he looks at you, smiling and laughing at something the young boy next to you said, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. What a beautiful way to die, Steve thinks. The thunder and lightning is all worth it when he gets to see you as he takes his final breaths.

“H-hey,” His voice is wobbly, nervousness clearly showing as he speaks.

“Hi Steve.” Your eyes meet his, saccharine smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Hi steeb!” The young boy next to you waves while clutching a red crayon in his tiny hand.

“Hi Aidan. How are you little man?” Steve seems to loosen up a bit, the presence of your son lets him exhale just slightly.

“M’colorin a pixture.” The small boy’s tongue pokes between his lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he draws what looks like a demented stick figure.

“It looks good, little dude.” Steve encourages, cooing sweetly at him.

“Fanks.” Still focusing on his picture, the smaller boy grabs a different crayon from the box that sits on the table.

“What’s up, Steve?” You ask, still rocking the stroller back and forth with your tennis shoe covered foot.

“Oh-h yeah, um I was just gonna ask, ah what you were doing.” Just like a switch, he’s back to being a fumbling doofus.

You giggle at him and he feels his cheeks tingle with heat. Looking between the two kids, you look back up to the older man in front of you.

“Well, I’m enjoying a coffee while Aidan colors and Bella naps peacefully.” You nod your head slowly, eyeing the barista questioningly.

Steve wants to slap a hand on his forehead, embarrassed by the fact he can’t even formulate one sentence.

“Yeah, no I see that. Seems fun, I mean not fun but like ya know, seems-“ His stammering is cut off by your soft voice.

“Are you okay? You seem really nervous.” Your eyebrows are pinched together, worry painted on your features.

“Me? I’m great, fantastic!” It comes enthusiastic and way louder than he intended, so loud that Robin hears and instantly facepalms.

“Well, that’s great Steve.” You’re still eyeing him suspiciously and he really wants to jump ship.

“I’m just gonna go and do my ugh, my stuff.” Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, spinning on the ball of his feet leaving before he can say anything else embarrassing.

No, he can’t leave now, not when he’s made it this close to the finish line. This is what he’s been waiting for, the treasure he’s been searching for. It’s no or never and he can’t go back to praying the same prayer that somewhere in this universe you two were destined to be.

With a new found confidence, he turns right back into the eye of the storm and faces it head strong.

“Actually, I came over here because I wanted to know if maybe you’d like to go out sometime.” His chest is puffed out like, more sure of himself than he’s ever been.

The confidence that’s surging through him starts to falter when he reads your expression. You, and Aidan who has now stopped coloring, stare at him with bugged out eyes and gaping mouths.

“Only if that’s okay with you and all. If you want you can bring the kids along and we can go get ice cream and stuff but if you need it I have some friends who are great with kids and who will be willing to babysit for you.” He’s back peddling, trying to give you a way out in case you want to reject him it won’t hurt so bad.

“Oh Steve,” it’s said with pity and he knows the lighting strike is about to hit, “I-I’m not their mom.”

“Yeah no I get it, sorry if I- wait..” Stopping in his tracks, he looks back and forth between you and the small boy, connecting the dots in his head. “You’re not their mom?”

You and Aidan share a look before giggling together. Gazing back up at the flustered man in front of you, you smile kindly at him.

“No, I’m their nanny, Steve. Although I love them like they’re my own, they’re not.”

“Oh.” Steve continues to stare at you, his pretty pink lips in the shape of an O.

“Yeah, I just watch these little guys.” You shrug your shoulders.

“That’s still cool, I mean the offer still stands.” Even though he’s confused, his voice is a little shaky when he asks.

“Do the kids still have to come?” You ask and Aidan shouts an offended “hey”.

“I mean they can if you want, it’s all up to you.” He eyes you, waiting for your reaction but your expression doesn’t give him much to go on.

“Hmmm, I’m going to have to ask my trusted right hand man.” Holding a finger up at him, you leave over to the smaller boy next to you.

Aidan covers you hear with a small hand trying to cover the movements of his lips, even though Steve can still his his muffled whispers from where he stands.

Shaking your head, you repeat back uh huh’s to him, taking everything that’s being said seriously.

Moving back to your upright position, you stare at Steve with a serious gaze.

“Well, my counsel says I should go but you have to buy me ice cream. No buts about it.” Your straight face begins to falter when Steve’s white teeth shine at you.

“Yeah, I’ll get you whatever ice cream you want.” Steve bobs his head, cheeks flaring pink and eyes shining brightly.

“You can’t kiss, only mommies and daddies do dat stuff.” Aidan pipes in and Steve can’t help but chuckle with how the little boys face is scrunched up with intensity.

“Yes sir.” Steve gives the little boy a solute, while sending you a sneaky wink, and the kid quickly accepts.

“So, I’ll text you?” Steve asks

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth as you say it.

“Okay, cool cool. I’ll ah, see you later.” Steve nods his head, backing away from the table slowly.

Sprinting to the backroom, he sees Robin who pretends like she hasn’t been listening in.

“Robs, I fucking did it!” Steve whisper yells, still cautious knowing your still out there.

“I honestly thought you were gonna back out for a second! I’m so proud of you for hanging in there!”

The two of them start hopping around like jumping beans, beaming so brightly they can outshine any star in the sky.

“So you got her number?” Robin asks, heavily breathing from all their excitement.

“Fuck-“ stopping dead in his tracks, Steve bolts to the door and back out to the front.

That’s where he finds you’ve already left and he’s heartbroken. The only memory that you were even there is your lingering perfume that sticks to the air.

You’ll probably be back some time soon but he’s still a little let down knowing he didn’t fully seal the deal. Looking closely at the table, he notices Aidan left one of his drawings.

Picking up the paper, he looks at it closely realizing Aidan didn’t leave it, you did.

Steve,

You left before I could give you my number. I didn’t want to disrupt your little party or anything.

Can’t wait to get that ice cream.

-your favorite customer

683-027-9305

Folding up the paper, Steve sticks it in the pocket of his apron.

“Don’t worry Steve, she’ll be back.” Robin calls out from behind the counter, apparently not seeing the little not that was left.

“I know she will.” It’s said quietly but the smile on his lips isn’t.

It’s beautiful on this side of the rainbow, Steve thinks, the pot of gold was so worth all the work. Robin was right, he still had it.

Thank you all for joining me on this second day of my celebration!!! I hope you all enjoy!! Love you all ❤️

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Get Ready

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky sleeps over.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You shimmy and sway before the mirror behind the polka dot skirt. It’s cute but is it date cute. Does it matter? It’s not really a date, not for you. You’re just there for moral support. Geez, isn’t Bucky a soldier? You think he could face a gorgeous sophisticated woman like Charlize. 

You don’t get how he doesn’t see how perfect they are for each other. She’s older and confident and so beautiful. And smart to boot. And he’s handsome and built and somewhat famous. They are the power couple for the ages. Quite literally with Bucky aging into his second century. 

It should be fun anyway. Dinner out can be a bit overwhelming but it isn’t so bad with friends. Heck, you’re sure they will be too busy gabbing and ditch you and your date quickly. At least, that’s what you’re hoping for. 

Your apartment buzzer goes off and makes you jump. You blanch at your reflection and pull the skirt on. You were never going to decide so you’ll just go with it. You swipe up the blouse with the eyelet collar and swoop it over your head. You leave it untucked as you slam the button to quiet the offensive noise. 

“Hey!” You call into the speaker. 

“Dreamy,” Bucky sounds angry as he growls through the crackling line. 

“What are you doing here? You should be getting ready.” 

“I am,” he snips. 

“Oh, right, well, come on up, I guess.” 

He huffs right before you let the button go. He’s been grouchy lately. You asked him if it was work. He shook his head and kept reading. You tried to keep guessing and he just groaned and told you nothing’s wrong. So, you let him mope. 

It doesn’t take him long to get to your floor. He pounds on the floor and you let him in. He doesn’t look ready. You squint and step back to look him up and down. 

“Bucky,” you reproach. 

“What? I got a tie,” he pulls his leather jacket open. “It’s just a bit... stubborn.” 

“Oh, gosh,” you tug on the crooked tie, “here.” 

He stoops to let you even out the tails and you pat it as you peer up at his floppy hair. His beard is getting long too. The tufts jut out at his chin like horns. 

“Come here,” you sneer and grab his wrist. 

He lets you drag him across the apartment and into the bathroom. You flip down the lid of the toilet and point him to it. You take your brush and sigh, shaking your head as you tut. You brush back his dark hair, strands of silver sparkling in the light. 

“You’re a mess.” 

“I tried.” 

“Sure,” you try to tame the flopping locks, “one second.” You grab your extra hold spray and press his hair back as you block his face from the aerosol blast. He shifts and you tap his boot with your toe. “Sit still.” 

“Mm, that smells good,” he stops fidgeting. 

“Coconut. It’s my favourite. And it’s expensive, so thank me for wasting it on you,” you put the bottle down and comb through his hair to give it a less stiff look. His eyes flick up and meet yours as your fingertips graze his scalp. 

“Ugh, you ever thought of getting into massage?” He chirps. 

“Har har,” you say dryly, “Bucky, what are you doing here? I told you to meet me at the restaurant.”  

You take a small comb and tidy his beard as he scrunches his nose. You finish and rinse your hands in the sink. You look at yourself. You’re still not ready. 

“Yeah, well... I couldn’t get my hair to behave.” 

“We’ll see if it holds.” You sniff. 

You tuck the blouse into your skirt and turn to him. He stares at you. You examine his collar and his slacks. They’re nice but the shirt is wrinkled. 

“Bucky, did you at least iron that?” 

“It’s new?” He shrugs. 

“It’s all covered in lines,” you cross your arms. “Take it off.” 

“What? I think the place requires shirts--” 

“Don’t be silly.” 

“Wow, if I had to guess, I’d say you’re nervous about our little date,” he stands and loosens the tie you just fixed. 

“I just... want it to be perfect. I want you to have a good time.” 

“I always have a good time with you, Dreamy,” he unbuttons his shirt. 

“Right, well, you should be worried about Charlize,” you stomp out of the bathroom and unfold the board behind the door. You plug in the iron as he comes close and tosses his shirt over it. He wears a ribbed tank beneath. “She’s so awesome. Aren’t you excited?” 

“Eh, sure,” he says noncommittally. “And what about you? You find someone?” 

“Yep, all’s sorted out. All my hard work,” you wave your hand in front of the iron as it warms, impatient for it to heat up.  

Finding a date hadn’t been as easy as you assumed. You thought when you offered free dinner, anyone would just come along for the meal. That was very much not the case but you found a workaround. 

“Don’t do that. You’re going to burn yourself,” he chides. 

“Mm, and you can blame yourself for not pressing your clothes,” you shake your head. 

“Oh, dreamy, I love it when you’re mad. It’s so cute.” 

“No teasing,” you snip, “try to be charming.” 

“What? I’m charming,” he blusters. 

You look at him, “sure.” 

He scoffs, “alright, Mrs. Polka Dot skirt.” 

“What? It’s cute.” 

“It’s not exactly date material,” he snickers. 

“Ugh, fine, you,” you point at him, “deal with your shirt and I’ll find a date outfit. Ugh.” 

You sweep around the board and stride into the bedroom. You swing the door carelessly behind you and make your way to the closet. A dress would be better, you guess. If it shuts him up, then you’ll happily wear one. Ah, that one’s cute! You forgot about it. 

You go to the bed and strip off the skirt and blouse. You stagger around before you manage to step into the peridot dress. The bows on the straps are too much. You look in the mirror and do a little dance. It fits, but it is short. 

You glance over and hesitate. The door is still slightly ajar. You flit over and as you come out, Bucky clears his throat. He puts his head down and focuses on ironing his sleeve. 

He peeks over at you and his brows furrow, “better?” You ask. 

“Uh, I guess. Green is a choice,” he smirks. 

“Okay, Calvin Klein, well, I will have to get you to help me with my closet later.” 

He chuckles and goes back to pressing the iron to the fabric. You go to the bathroom, conscious of him as you check yourself in the mirror. It feels like he’s watching you but it’s probably just that the place is so small. 

“I won’t be long, I don’t want to be late,” you assure him. 

[shutupineedtothink]

More ep 7 thoughts, now that I’ve watched it twice and processed 🫠

Bookending the episode with Lilia’s fall but first it’s down and then it’s up - sick, twisted, beautiful, devastating, I’m crying

The soundtrack really goes hard in this ep

The wildest part about the “ex best friend” line is all of those things are equally insane - ex, ex best friend, or best friend. Like ma’am what hex were you living in

Babysitter is likely a reference to the comics, but interesting also in terms of WV because we saw Agatha babysit the twins only once I think. Does this mean she actually spent more time with them than we know?

Wow once again Kathryn Hahn is doing so much work in this first scene with Billy, she’s going from snarky to wary to calculating to hurt to i don’t even know. She’s doing a masterclass in face acting.

When they start to climb toward the castle, Agatha has her hands clasped behind her back and initially I was just like ma’am, why are you like this, but then I realized oh. Her hands are tied right now.

Waning moon for the Crone trial babyyyyyy called it

Fun and fast transition to get us into the trial, since we know the deal by now

She’s based on me you know — sooooo, tragic, misunderstood, secretly suffering her whole life, constantly judged by others, uh huh uh huh

Prove it - he really doesn’t believe a word she says! And she looks so hurt by it!

The way Agatha sits in the chair omg girl please chill

This is such like an Indiana Jones trap I love it

God I love Lilia’s visions, changing the perspective to hers, the blurring around the edges - sometimes you don’t need to do much, but it’s hella effective

Actually a lot of good camera tricks in this ep I’m not going to point them all out

It’s about limiting beliefs baybeee - once again the writers showing they know their psych

I’m sorry that tea leaves to the underground transition??? Spectacular

“Well tell me what more I should see when I look at you. No, I mean it” - hey nonviolent communication, how’s it going 🤌

God can you imagine how scary it would be to have these visions as a CHILD

Did you not see imminent impalement in your future?? Lol why did this get me

I get the fake nose on Agatha but idk maybe I could’ve done without it

Teenager his full name LOLOL underrated joke

Dory OMGGGGG

Jen being the ultimate Lilia champion this ep and I love it. Also seems to contradict her behavior even more in Agatha’s trial, but she’s still more snappy with Agatha here too

What are you wearing, I don’t wanna talk about it - bruh every line. EVERY LINE.

Did I mention the transitions are killer

Your task is not to control but to see. - I, I can’t keep writing down every line but

I love that as soon as Jen knows what’s going on, she’s totally on board, just asking Lilia for intel, like yep this is normal now

Ahhh the spell book. Interesting that Lilia finds it.

Ohp - I wish Lilia was here. Ask and you shall receive - see the Billy’s Road theory

She calls him baby again 😭

Is snappy dialogue one of my biggest joys on this earth? I think it is

Proper tarot takes time and care. And leads to large gaping wounds - …. You mean like internal wounds? Like trauma? Like you have to bring up the trauma to heal it? Uh huh uh huh cool cool cool cool you said it Agatha not me.

The Magician, the ability to turn all of your goals into reality - Agatha immediately side eyes him. Bruh.

I’m a forgotten woman. Then remember yourself. 🤌🤌🤌

I was falling. I will fall. - CAMERA. MOVEMENT.

What will you do with your remaining time 🤝 all we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us. Iykyk.

The subway baybeee get that House of R theory

God this tarot spread scene is so epic.

Ok Jen being the path ahead… I gotta come back to that

Agatha is the obstacle yep that makes sense (but the obstacle is the way)

Windfall - Billy, miraculous transformation uh yep ok

Destination - Death. Such a good reveal, even if I already knew it. Once again the power of good writing. In the end all roads lead to me. UGH WTF

NOT THE GREEN VINES SPELLING A BIG OL “R” WHEN THE DOORS OPEN

The original green witch…. Ok so she is in the coven… but also Billy’s in the coven? It’s a shared black heart? Or it means you can go one direction or the other… hm.

Ughghghghhh her just giving them each what they need before she sends them onward. She’s the GOAT.

Did I mention the music????

This whole scene is so EPIC. The tower upright fuck it up queen

Oh my God Lilia took her power back 😭

We didn’t see a body unlike Alice I’m holding onto that “see you at the end” lyric with all my might at this point

Time in a bottle was sick and twisted and beautiful I love it

I just… can’t believe this is something I got to witness. Like it’s so good I’m mad about it.

A few other quick thoughts:

Jen being the path ahead… if she was birth in the first trial (see my maiden mother crone trial theory), then maybe she’s also REbirth? It’s a circle sewn with fate… we’re going back to the beginning but emerging from the Road this time. Eh??

Patti…. PATTI!! Where’s her Emmy? Where’s the show’s Emmy???

Not only was this a better time travel plot than the rest of Marvel as I said in another post but it’s also better than time travel in Doctor Who for the last 10 years and that pisses me off low key.

Not to jump ahead but buckle up kids cuz if we’re following the loose structure of WandaVision then ep 8 is our flashback/reliving the trauma episode for Agatha and as much as I was destroyed by this ep I am so not ready for all of that.

Anyway. What a masterpiece. I’m DONE.

[photo1030]

Heyyy I have a suggestion to make it’s kinda stupid whatever so it takes place at the mayor’s party where Arthur Morgan and Dutch is meeting mr Bronte and reader come running to Mr Bronte for some random reason and sense she’s wearing a corset she can’t get all the air in her lungs AND SHE PAST OUT so Arthur or Dutch (I LUV THEM BOTH teehee) gotta RIPS her out the corset.. that’s all I got LOVE YOUR WRITING BTWW MWAH! ❤️❤️❤️

Hi there @lizzie2980 So sorry this has taken me forever. Thank you for being so kind and patient (and hopefully still interested?) This was a great prompt, had a lot of fun with this one.

This is a bit out of the canon story, hopefully that is OK. This is a little bit of flirty and protective Arthur, with a smidge of charming Dutch in there...lovely combo, if you ask me....which you did...(This is not part of my existing fic, Leather and Lace, btw)

(The images used here were found on a lovely blog that is apparently designed to help fanworks. Check it out! Thank you to whoever put that together. https://reddeadreference.tumblr.com/post/679731317406072832/the-gilded-cage )

*Special thanks to @appalachiancowboy99 for being my sounding board.

DON’T MAKE A SCENE 

Summary:  You are at Angelo Bronte’s house for a fancy garden party when you meet a certain group of outlaws.

Your hands clamp down tighter as the plump elderly matron apologetically yanks the strings of the restrictive corset. Nails of already shaky fingers dig into the wooden bedpost that you use to support yourself with as you stand on wavering feet. You wince on the verge of painful tears as Bridget stands behind you and pulls the threads of the already too tight garment even tighter still, testing the limits of its stitching and causing a gasp to quickly get sucked into your folded-up lungs with each pull.

Sunset has already begun, the brilliant orange disc settling itself softly behind the horizon line for the day, and your room slowly dims to a pastel dusk as you get ready, the wall sconces glowing against the ivory painted walls of your lavish private quarters inside Angelo Bronte’s mansion. The garden party below will be starting any minute, and the shadows that dance along the walls inside the house mask the dread inside your chest. It is as if your hope and spirit are diminishing with the quickly-fading sun. You are hoping that Bridget doesn’t see the trepidation creeping into your expression as she flits about you, but the older woman is too shrewd for that. 

“You know...Mr. Bronte…he isn’t going to wait much longer for you”, she murmurs as her weathered fingers begin to run over your frame, smoothing out the fabric of your dress, picking at errant threads. “He will eventually want what he feels he is due.”

The obvious statement hits your gut like a prize-fighter’s punch. “I know,” you utter with a dejected sigh, your voice almost a whimper in the air.

The thought of the man’s pock-marked, oily skin against your own makes you sick to your stomach. It would be like a vile lizard rubbing up against you. 

But Bridget is not unsympathetic to your situation. She is definitely a woman of experienced years, as the graying hair of her loosely tied-up bun gives testament to. And she knows a thing or two from her twenty-some years in service to upper-society households. 

“You know, sometimes when you’re a woman, you just have to do what you have to do. Close your eyes and let your mind go somewhere else when it’s happening.” She waves her hand dismissively in the air as if speaking about the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. “Just tune it all out, let the man have his way, and then it will all be over quickly. In fact, it’s usually over quicker than you think.” She gives you a whimsical wink as a sharp cackle snaps out of her throat at her own joke. Whether Bridget is speaking specifically about Bronte, or any man for that matter, you are not sure, as this seems to have the feel of a rehearsed speech she has given many times over.

When Bridget sees the distaste of such a thing clearly coating your face as you silently stand there with your hands fidgeting over themselves, she continues.

“If you’re clever enough, you could let him have what he wants, but then have something for yourself on the side, you know.” 

Your eyes immediately shoot up to hers to find that knowing twinkle in her eye. The thought causes a humorless huff from your lips. 

“I can barely manage to look after myself, Bridget. I couldn’t manage that cat-and-mouse game.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugs and continues to primp and preen your outfit. 

Despite the odd advice, you are grateful for Bridget’s counsel. She is the only friend you have here in Angelo Bronte’s mansion. You are not a hostage per se, but he has made his opinions very clear on how he feels about a woman, especially one indebted to him, leaving the premises to socialize without him as your escort and chaperone; so improper, so ungrateful. 

It is especially warm tonight on the evening of the garden party that Mr. Bronte has been planning for weeks now. The whole household buzzes with excitement and anticipation for the fancy event, despite the sweltering weather. St. Denis is dreadfully hot and muggy, making it difficult to breathe on a good day. You’re not used to such heat. You come from the northern state of Massachusetts, which is much cooler. The heat here is bad enough, but the humidity clings to the air like a wet blanket. 

And this damn dress doesn’t help in the slightest. 

The dress that Angelo Bronte hand-picked for you to wear tonight is way too tight, making you lightheaded already. You watch in the full-length mirror as the constricting fabric pulls your body into shape under Bridget’s strong, able fingers, transforming your voluptuous figure into an hourglass. A deep midnight blue hued fabric that shimmers in the light is cut to hug and accent your physique, leaving little to the imagination of the observer. 

If the origins of the dress weren’t so distasteful, you may have very well liked the beautiful gown that currently clings to your form and drapes over your hips in a cascade of silk. But you know Bronte did not provide this gown to please you. No, he did it for his own inflated ego. Bronte will parade you around tonight like a prized horse out of his stable, showing you off to all in tonight’s attendance. And he’ll treat you as such too - like something he’s purchased and owns outright.

You curse yourself for letting yourself get into this situation. You hate that you have to rely on this man for a place to live. You arrived new to St. Denis a month ago and were promptly robbed upon arrival, leaving you with nothing. So much for civilization. 

Bronte noticed you at the train station, frazzled and lost, and totally beside yourself as to what you would do now. You came here with no relatives, no contacts, just the promise of jobs and new adventure out West from an ad you saw in the newspaper back home. The man quickly made your acquaintance, preying like a vulture on your vulnerable situation. He was charming with a note of authority, like he knew exactly what to do and where to go. But it quickly became apparent that he offered you his home as a sanctuary in hopes to win your affections. You’ve managed to play coy for awhile, however, agreeing to be on his arm and accompany him to various social functions in town in exchange for residency in his home. But you have denied the man what he wants most - you in his bed. 

An involuntary sigh passes your cherry lips as Bridget takes your hand in hers, patting it in the same way a grandmother comforts her troubled grandchild, and leads you to the vanity along the opposite wall so she can set your hair. Your body mindlessly drifts to the tapestry-padded stool, like a lost flower petal in the wind, void of any energy or enthusiasm. 

Bridget’s nimble fingers curl your hair and pin it back to showcase your pretty face, adding in beautiful crystal clips for decoration and she even weaves a few flower buds from the garden into your locks. You sit silently in front of the vanity mirror with a blank stare, a melancholy overtaking your soul as you watch her prepare you to be the perfect accessory to the rich man’s life. The motherly woman’s presence comforts you, but she is also serving you up to the master of the house like a slice of beef on a silver platter for him to devour. 

“There, now. Don’t you just look breathtaking?” she breaths in awe. The deep-set lines around Bridget’s hazel-colored eyes crinkle as she admires her masterpiece. Your eyes refocus to catch the old woman’s proud gaze in the mirror, and then back over your own reflection.

“Yes, Bridget,” you whisper with a sad smile, your lower lip quivering just slightly. “You did a fine job. Thank you for your help tonight.” She catches the reluctance in your fluttering eyes and can only nod in agreement. She lovingly pats your arm in an attempt to comfort your growing uneasiness. 

“Well, I had better get downstairs and tend to the kitchen, then. Don’t hide up here too long, miss.” And she wipes her hands on her apron as her wide hips carry her to the bedroom door before she slips out and you are alone with your thoughts once again. 

With a deep sigh, you haul yourself up to stand. You swish the heavy fabric of your dress-skirts to the side to allow you to amble over to the balcony doors of your private room. Pulling the double-doors open wide with both hands, you step out onto the freshly painted wood as a rush of humid air hits you like a wall, causing you to take a brief pause to try to catch your breath. Your hands eventually find their place upon the smooth railing as you step up to the edge to look out over the balcony at the garden party below. 

Jovial music floats up to your ears from the string quartet that is playing on the patio beneath you. String lights delicately criss-cross over the open garden area, resembling a net that has caught a thousand fire-flies. Bronte’s guests have already started to arrive and their chatter fills the air, alternating with the clinks of champagne flutes. You casually observe as greedy fingers grab at the delectable food and free alcohol that is meticulously displayed along elegant tables that dot across the property, the delicious aromas wafting through the evening air. 

The scene laid out before you is like a page out of the society section of the newspapers. Always over-the-top, always impressive, Angelo Bronte spares no expense in his functions. Decadent food, expensive wines, extravagant decor. Always to impress the upper echelon of society. And yet, you have no desire to mingle with the high-society of St. Denis. From what you’ve seen, it’s hardly impressive to you. 

You watch with disinterest over the crowd, observing from the elevated vantage point as people collect in small groups, then turn to whisper to each other like conniving socal piranhas the moment one of the fold turns to leave to join another circle. With a scornful roll of your eyes, you have no idea how you are going to make it through this evening unscathed. 

And then, a collection of unknown men catch your eye. You’ve never seen them in Bronte’s circle before. And they clearly don’t belong. Under closer observation, this is an assembly of rugged looking gentlemen, a sharp contrast to the other guests in attendance tonight. Though they may have donned fancy tuxedos and hats, the way they carry themselves indicates they are not used to wearing such garb. Their eyes nervously shift all around instead of at whoever is addressing them as if more interested in what is happening around them rather than trying to assert social connections. Your bottom lip gets pulled between your teeth as your curious gaze lingers on them, trying to determine if they were invited or snuck in with the crowd.

As if he can feel your eye on him with the sixth sense of a trained outlaw, Arthur instinctively looks away from the men he is standing with and looks up towards the balcony of the great house and notices you. He doesn’t smile or even move for that matter, other than a single eyebrow lift as if in confusion. Your breath catches a bit at being caught staring. But yet you cannot bring yourself to break eye contact with the startling blue eyes gazing back at you from across the garden. And you can’t help the soft smile that blooms across your blushing cheeks at the ruggedly handsome man. 

When the mystery man eventually turns his attention back to his companions, you shake your head back to reality and decide you’ve stalled long enough. It’s time to begin to make your way down to the garden party and get this over with. You leisurely stroll along the length of the wrap-around balcony of the house to the stairs that will carry you down to the patio. Your hand has to grip the railing of the staircase as you walk, as your dress is so tight that descending the stairs makes you out of breath. The boning of the corset digs painfully into your ribs and hipbones as you move. Such a dreadful, masochistic thing, you wonder why on earth women put themselves through such torture for the sake of fashion. Once at the bottom, you attempt to take a deep breath, bringing your fingertips to your temples before bracing yourself to join the guests. 

First order of business, you scan the crowd to locate your host. It takes a few minutes, but you eventually lock-in on him when you hear his boisterous, condescending laugh echoing over the throng of people. Angelo Bronte really is a toad of a man. And despite his money and power, he is rather socially inept. Maybe it’s the fact that he's not from this country. Or maybe society is held differently in Italy. But either way, the elite here in St. Denis have mixed feelings about the wealthy man. Mixed as in, they like his wealth but do not care for the man. And that is where you come in. 

Bronte’s idea is that having a beautiful, refined and charming woman on his arm will make him appear more distinguished. Your role in this little arrangement with him is to be the doting young paramore, helping him to navigate the social circles. No one needs to be the wiser that the two of you sleep in separate rooms on completely different ends of the house. But for appearances sake, Angelo Bronte has acquired himself quite the crown jewel with your presence. 

As you meander through the crowd, you keep getting intercepted by random party guests, each one handing you a new glass of champagne. Your eye catches Bronte’s a few times as you mingle, as he checks to make sure you are performing as expected. Of course, the witty jokes, effervescent laughing and demure little smiles that emanate from you work according to plan. You can see Bronte pointing you out to guests from across the garden, a crude grin of approval splitting across the faces of the men he leans into, all chattering with hushed tones and hungry eyes. It’s enough to make your corset-restricted stomach turn. 

After about forty five minutes of false chuckles and empty smiles, you are desperate for fresh air and peace and quiet, so you discreetly head to the rose garden which is off to the right side of the party, hoping to find less people there.

Wandering aimlessly through the maze of hedges and rose bushes, you manage to find a quiet little corner away from prattling visitors and raise your tired eyes to the heavens above. The smog of St. Denis covers the night sky and it leaves you with a heavy feeling of disappointment that even the vast galaxy of stars is being kept from you in this dreadful place. With a dispirited sigh, your tear-misted eyes slowly roll shut, attempting to find some sort of solitude from this hell on earth. 

“Is this a safe place to hide?”

The sound of a deep, gravelly voice suddenly cuts into your mind, causing your eyes to snap open as you spin to see who is speaking to you. 

And there he is. The handsome fellow who you were staring at from the balcony. He stands quietly, a slight smirk of amusement on his face. It takes you a few moments to realize that he is indeed real, no fantasy apparition to come to stand before you. Confused blinks skitter across your face as you take in the sight of him. Now that you are up close to him, you can see just how tall and broad-shouldered he is. 

“Sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he offers when you hesitate to answer, his simple apology carrying little fanfare or bravado. Just a simple statement with no malice, no ill-content and no agenda towards you. 

“Oh…no…you didn’t startle me,” you manage to stammer as you try to regain your composure.

The stranger’s ocean-blue eyes float across your frame, head to toe, assessing you with a slight tilt of his head.  “You sure about that?” he jokes as he gives you a deeper smirk now.

Picking up on his genuine humor, you release the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. “No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I just needed a minute, is all. I didn’t expect anyone to be back here.” 

When you lob a smile back at him in return, Arthur takes a gamble and begins to move slightly closer to you, specifically intent on maintaining this conversation. “Hmm, needing to get away from the herd? Is that it?”

The term causes a chuckle to erupt out of your throat. “Yeah, something like that.” You begin to step towards him as well, both of you moving slowly yet purposefully towards the other to close the gap between you until you are about three feet from each other. The air surrounding the garden is like that before a thunderstorm, exhilarating because it could be both beautiful and dangerous at the same time. The two of you stand quietly, simply staring at the other like a couple of clumsy teenagers not knowing what to say. 

“No offense, but you don’t seem like you belong here,” you finally break the amorous spell with a raised eyebrow. As your words hover like a butterfly in his ears, you note the faded scars along the man’s chin, embedded into his tanned skin and nestled beneath his rugged beard that you can see was probably hastily groomed for this evening.

He doesn’t deny it, but counters almost playfully with “I could say the same for you.”

You flirtatiously narrow your eyes at him. “What makes you say that?”

He waves his large finger towards you. “You carry the same disdain for this place on your face that I do.”

Well, you have to admit, he’s got you there and all you can do is nod in agreement. “That obvious, huh?”

“Just a bit,” he chuckles, bringing his hand up to pinch his fingers together to accent his point. “It's ok, though. Glad I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to be here.” And he tosses a perturbed glace back over his shoulder towards the noise of the party. 

“I guess that makes us two peas in a pod, then, doesn’t it?” you muse with a glittering smile that makes his chest tight.

A grin pulls at the corner of the stranger’s plump lips, causing his scarred chin to wrinkle. “I guess it does, doesn’t it?” 

“My name is Y/F&LN”. You extend your hand out and his large hand completely engulfs yours, dwarfing your delicate fingers with his own. You immediately notice how his skin is rough, yet warm to the touch, his hand strong in a comfortingly protective way. 

“Arthur Morgan.”

And the two of you hold each other’s gaze like a spark of electricity pulsing through the air to connect you. You can feel your fingertips go numb as your heart beats faster within your perfume-dusted chest. And Arthur hopes that you do not notice how he thickly swallows, flexing his now-sweaty hands before awkwardly kneading his thumb into the opposite palm. 

But your beautiful little moment together is short-lived when you hear your name being called out into the night, snapping you back to the real world. And before you know it, a very anxious-looking Bridget appears from around the hedges, her eyes darting around, her lips pressed tightly together in worry. 

“Miss Y/N, there you are! Mr. Bronte is asking for you.” She gives you a sharp wave in her direction before her eyes quickly slip to the burly gentleman to your right.

An embarrassed school-girl blush dusts your cheeks as you clear your throat. “Yes, of course, Bridget, thank you. I’ll be right there.” You turn back to Arthur. “Well, Mr. Morgan, it was very nice to meet you. If you will excuse me, please.”

“‘Course.” Arthur dips his head with a respectful nod as you float past him, your fingertips nervously tucking a few tendrils of hair behind your ear. 

Bridget gives Arthur a good look up and down before she turns and follows behind you back towards the music of the garden party with a sly, smug smile drawn on her lips. “Maybe you’re more clever than you think,” she whispers impishly in your ear. You shoot her a cautionary look as you smooth your hands over the fabric of your dress, making sure that you are presentation-ready before you make your way to your host. 

As you navigate the crowd to approach Bronte, you take notice that he is talking to the other men that came with Mr. Morgan. The moment he catches sight of you, Bronte’s face lights up.

“Ah, Miss Y/N! There you are! Come, Come!” He waves you over to stand next to him. “I’d like you to meet some special guests.” Bronte crudely clutches your hand, bringing it to his saliva-slick lips before eagerly wrapping it around his arm. “This is Mr. Van der Linde, and his associates, Mr. Williamson and Mr. Matthews. Gentleman, this is my…’companion’, Miss Y/LN.”

You force down the bile in the back of your throat that the toad conjures up as a graceful nod and accompanying smile adorns your pretty face when you turn towards the men you are being presented to. “Gentleman, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

“Miss Y/L/N,” Mr. Van Der Linde greets you as he flashes a sultry grin in your direction, boldly reaching his ringed hand to take ahold of yours that sits tucked in Bronte’s elbow. He brazenly brings your digits to his warm mouth to place a tender kiss along your knuckles. “Call me Dutch.” His dark eyes fully take you in with a glitter of mischief behind them. “Mr. Bronte is indeed a lucky man.”

Unlike Angelo Bronte, you find this new social contact of his to be quite charismatic and charming. And while most of the attendees of this event carry some level of bravado, this man standing in front of you seems to be quite different, the type to put his money where his mouth is. 

Interest flashes through your eyes at this dark-haired stranger. And Bronte is quick to notice. With a deep scowl of disapproval, his arm quickly snakes around your waist, holding you possessively against him in the presence of these men, so tight that it makes you squirm against his grip. You are about to protest the moderately painful discomfort when Mr. Morgan suddenly joins the circle, his azure eyes immediately targeting the meaty hand that grips your hip before lifting to meet your grimacing expression. The sight makes his face turn dark with a menacing presence to it. It almost shocks you to see the stark contrast to his demeanor from your encounter a few moments ago. 

“Quite the shindig you got goin’ here, Bronte,” Mr. Morgan says cooly, his statement breaking the tension of the social circle. “You always run things like this?”

The disapproval in your new friend’s voice causes one of the other men in his group (Mr. Matthews, is it?) to shoot him a glare of warning, to which Mr. Morgan shrugs off. 

Bronte lifts his nose at the rub, but he will not be made a fool of so easily at the challenge. “Ah, I’m sure you country folk are not used to such luxury, yes?”  

“Personally, I don’t care for it,” snarks Arthur with a snort of derision. “Hard to enjoy myself like a gluttonous pig when there’s people right outside the gate starvin’”

As you stand there next to Bronte listening to these men throw thinly veiled contempt at one another, you begin to feel dizzy. Your head starts to swim, spots dancing before your eyes, making your stomach lurch. But no one notices at first, except for Mr. Van Der Linde.

“You alright, miss?” Mr. Van Der Linde questions you with concern skipping across his dark features. 

“Oh, yes,” you wave him off. “It’s just…just this heat…” You begin to fan yourself, desperate for some cool air to caress your face. 

And suddenly the world around you starts to spin and your knees give way underneath you as if they move of their own accord. You begin to crumple in front of everyone and Dutch is quick to catch you just before you hit the ground, his strong arms shooting out to enfold you and ease you into the grass. The moment Arthur sees that you are in trouble, he promptly hovers over you as well, catching your hand into his own and placing himself between you and Bronte as things go dark in front of your eyes.

A collection of curious guests begins to gather around the spectacle, whispers and fingers discreetly pointing in your direction.

“The lady needs some air,” asserts Dutch as he kneels behind you.

Arthur is at a loss on what to do at first, but is quick to notice how restrictive the corset of your dress is, as your chest can barely move as you desperately gasp for air, your face turning red from the heat of the evening.

With a look of determination, Arthur’s rough hands wrap around your biceps and carefully lift the upper part of your limp body to lean against Dutch, who cradles you into his chest for support. Without a word, Arthur grabs at the fabric of your dress and quickly rips the corseted area wide open, easily tearing the seams under his hands, to release your lungs, exposing the delicate silk undergarments and bare skin hidden beneath. Shock slaps Angelo Bronte in the face as he stands behind Arthur, helplessly watching this embarrassing little scene unfold before his eyes. 

Ignoring the judgemental gasps of the partygoers, Arthur then proceeds to snatch a glass of champagne out of the hands of one of the nosey women craning her neck to see the spectacle and tosses the liquid into your face. The moment the bubbly fluid hits your skin, your eyes instantly pop open as you deeply gasp, desperate to expand your lungs to draw in fresh air. 

Arthur cautiously watches your face in anticipation as you rapidly blink the sweet nectar out of your lashes. Your eyes land on Arthur in confusion as to what has just happened before looking down at yourself and realize that you are now exposed to the whole party. But Arthur immediately takes off his jacket and lays it overtop of you as you sit nestled safely against Dutch who is still behind you. And Arthur breathes a sigh of relief when he recognizes the threads of alertness brightening your features once again. 

“Get the hell outta here,” Arthur orders the crowd, waving them away with a wide arc of his long arm. “Nothing to see here, just a woman needing some air, is all.”

“Can you stand, miss?” Dutch’s deep voice carries softly over your shoulder and into your ear, anchoring you back to consciousness. 

“I think so,” you venture, although the wavering in your voice is not entirely convincing. Your head is still swimming with confusion, but at least you can breathe now and the pounding in your temples has started to recede. 

Arthur takes your hand again, his other slipping under your arm to guide you to your feet as Dutch carefully steadies you from behind. 

“I don’t know what to say,” you say sheepishly looking up into Arthur’s worried face. “Thank you.”

“Thank you?” Bronte suddenly bellows, finally finding his voice of outrage. “Thank you?! You make a scene in my house and you say ‘thank you?!”

“Easy, leave her be,” Arthur growls out, turning his threatening gaze to the party’s host. “Can’t you see the lady isn’t well?”

“No, she most certainly is not!” Bronte spits back in anger. His heartless, burning eyes now land back on you, his nostrils flaring wildly with impatience as his expression screws up into a hateful scowl. “Nuisance! I knew it was a mistake to bring you here” he hollers at you, flecks of spittle flying in your direction. “Should’ve left you at the station where I found you!” His finger thrown in your face causes you to shrink backwards, leaning your back into Dutch yet again, where the man’s hands protectively come up to cradle your arms. 

But Arthur is not having any of it, protectively placing his large bear-like frame between you and Bronte, towering over the other man and desperately trying to refrain from landing his massive fist into his face. “You best keep that finger to yourself, Mr. Bronte, else I'll break it clean off.” Arthur’s tone is low and deep, his threat making a shutter cascade down your spine as you watch with baited breath for what is to happen next. 

“Get out! All of you! Get! Out!” Bronte screams, waving at the group of newcomers. “And take that bitch with you, too!”

Your heart sinks as you watch the Italian spin on his heels and storm off towards the house, his arms flailing wildly as he vents his frustrations and anger out into the ether. The party has clearly ended now, as the guests murmur and whisper amongst themselves about the outrageous scene and begin to file out of the garden to leave. 

Your head hangs a bit in shame as you nibble nervously on your pink bottom lip, holding Arthur's jacket over your chest like armor. You have no love lost for Angelo Bronte, but the idea that you now have nowhere to go is a little terrifying. You have no money, no provisions. Nothing. 

Arthur turns to look at you, seeing your soft face frozen in stunned silence. His own countenance turns sheepish as he now realizes that he has cost you your home. “Sorry about that,” he mumbles, his hand coming up to rub behind his neck in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to get you tossed out.”

“Don’t trouble yourself.” You shake your head and place a grateful hand along Arthur’s arm. “You probably did me a favor.” Your smile is warm and forgiving, but it doesn’t make him feel any less responsible for your new predicament. “But I meant what I said, Mr. Morgan. Thank you,” you whisper emphatically. Your gentle voice causes butterflies to flutter in his belly. 

“You have anywhere to go now?” Arthur asks, his blue eyes burning into your own. God, how you could get lost in those eyes for hours. 

Sadly, you shake your head, confirming his suspicions. 

“Well, then,” interrupts Dutch from where he still stands behind you, “If that is the case, you are welcome to come with us, Miss Y/L/N.” He offers you another of his charming smiles as he holds open Arthur’s jacket as you slide your arms in, and he pulls the oversized garment protectively over your shoulders. He then offers you his arm to escort you away from the party, with his entourage in tow. 

Arthur gives a lofty eye-roll to the heavens at Dutch’s attempt to swoon you, causing Mr. Matthews to chuckle at the interaction. But you smile graciously at Mr. Van der Linde’s offer as you gladly accept his arm and begin to walk with him. You look back over your shoulder and give Arthur a demure little grin, which he returns as he follows you and Dutch out to the front of the property towards the awaiting carriages with Mr. Matthews and Mr. Williamson close behind. 

“Thank you, Mr. Van Der Linde,” you smile brightly up at him. “I just may have to take you up on that offer.” 

Masterlist for more Arthur goodness

Taglist: @appalachiancowboy99 @rivetingrosie4

[be-missed]

Find You Again

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Reuniting as stars, former high school sweethearts stage a fake relationship to boost their public image. Navigating the scripted romance, sparks fly. The big question: can this staged connection reignite their real love?

Warning: curse words, notify me if there are any. Credits to the owner for the picture that I used below the cut.

A/N: I'm so excited to write this, enjoy. New series for y'all.

Song: I Can See You // Taylor Swift

Masterlist

Chap 1

______________________________________________________________

Flashing lights are all that Y/N can see, facing all the cameras in different angles, her name being shout by different people, and different set of eyes are focused on her. Walking the red carpet was one of the things that Y/N enjoys when she is invited for an event like the MET Gala; the other things that she enjoys, well, the women who walks with their wonderful dresses. Men? Not really, but the press and the people doesn't need to know that.

"You are staring" a voice from behind her said—her publicist, Emilia notified her when she was staring far too long to the woman that was in front of her. Y/N just shrugs and shakes her head, waiting for her turn to be interviewed.

A few minutes have passed, she is now the next in line to be interviewed, "So Y/N, what a lovely fit you have. Can you tell us who you are wearing?" the interviewer asked, and Y/N answered, "I am so honored to be chosen as one of Givenchy's Ambassador for this event, honoring one of the most prominent person that anyone knows in fashion..."

Y/N's voice got buried with a loud screaming from the bottom of the stairs. Fortunately Y/N got to finish her answer before she looked down. Then there she was, looking like a doll, dress to kill, looks that can melt; Jenna Ortega was standing in the bottom of the stairs, posing for every camera that she caught.

A smile creeping in Y/N's mouth has been caught by the reporter and the camera, this gave the reporter a chance to segue a hot topic that you and Jenna dance around, answering yet not giving the exact information that the people want, "Looks like Jenna Ortega arrived in the house, there have been rumors going around for quite some time now, that the two of you have a history?" the reporter asked with a malice on his voice.

Y/N smiled and answered "Well, we were uhm, friends way before our careers, so yes, we did know each other and yes I can say that we have a great history, but there's no bad blood between us" and chuckles, that leads to the reporters new question "So, if that's what it is, is she the muse for the new single titled 'I Can See You' that you dropped a few weeks ago and will perform later?"

Y/N chuckles and rubs her chin, trying to think of a way to dodge the question, "I mean, Jenna is a wonderful woman, I can't deny that, WE can't deny that. But you know, where is the fun of writing songs if I'm just gonna admit who I'm writing for, right?" Y/N leaves with a wink to the camera and entering the venue.

"That was fucking close. What's with the media trying to come up with something between me and Jenna? It's been going on for months" Y/N whispered to Emilia, trying to find a champagne that she can drink. "There are photos that are circulating in the internet from when you were in High School with Jenna" her publicist answered.

This statement made Y/N look at her publicist with a questing look "Okay, now what? I mean what can they make out of the pictures? I'm pretty sure Jenna is denying it for sure" and got the chance to seat at their designated table. "Yeah, she's totally not denying it, the both of you kept on giving vague answers. But they are the media and your fans, connecting every song that you write and the events that happens to your life and Jenna's life," Emilia said with a knowing look and sipping a champagne.

"How? I mean, I kept on using a he/him pronouns on my song to lower the connection. Don't tell me they are that smart to know and connect things, don't you?" Y/N said to her publicist, looking so worried about the on-going rumor that can't seem to die.

On the other side of the venue, Jenna was taking a seat with Enrique trying to hide an annoyed look. "What's with the rumors and Y/N, they kept on reoccurring, why can't it die?" Jenna said trying to fidget with pearls that on her dress. "You know that the both of you aren't denying anything, right?" Enrique said to the girl.

Jenna then send Enrique a look that can kill and said "I am denying it, that's for sure. While HER, she keeps on dancing around it" Enrique then shakes his head "Oh no darling, you weren't denying it, the BOTH of you are dancing around it. Please don't deny it" then Jenna answered him so quick "I am denying it, I kept on saying no..."

Enrique just chuckles and said "See, the both of you aren't denying anything. You and Y/N always say that the both of you are 'good friends' and for the record, the both of you are always in the same event" and ended his sentence with a shrug trying to prove his point.

Jenna just rolled her eyes and tries to listen to whoever is speaking. While Y/N got called backstage to get ready to perform.

The host announced that Y/N was about to perform. Lights were dimmed and a shadow in the middle can be seen, the intro starts, and the crowd began to applaud and scream for Y/N's name.

Jenna noticed the intro and looked at Enrique and said "Really, she's gonna sing this? Out of all the songs?" and Enrique chuckled at the comment and replied "Well that's her new song, what can we do but to listen and enjoy, right?"

The performance ended with pyrotechnics in the stage and a wild crowd.

As the host again took over the stage, Jenna decided that she needed another drink, because what the fuck was that lyric, it just added gas to the burning fire, nice move, she thought in a sarcastic tone.

"One sour whiskey please" Jenna said to the bar tender, wanting to seat in the bar stool but sadly, her gown is restricting her. While she was waiting for her drink, whispers can be heard from behind her, not wanting to know the drama she still decided to maintain her focus on the bar.

"Nice dress you have there"

Once the voice registered, her eyes widen and her hand clenches into fist. Thinking if she ignores the voice, it will just go away, because if she faces the other girl tonight, she don't know if she will make a scene. But to no avail, the voice speak again, now beside her.

"I said you look good in your dress, Miss Ortega" Jenna heard, now feeling a smirk plastered on Y/N's face. With all her might Jenna faced the other girl with a tight smile, her hand clenched by her side and said "I heard you the first time, you know?" with an eyebrow raised, "Oh so you were just ignoring me then?" Y/N said now trying to make a sad face.

Jenna's jaw clenched, how can Y/N take this like a joke, "Yes you are right, I am ignoring you" focusing back on the bartender, "But I thought we were 'good friends', right" Y/N answered while trying to tease Jenna, "In case if you didn't notice, I say that for us to have neutral grounds, now can you please piss off?" Jenna answered and thought that it might be a little harsh but she really just want to be away from Y/N.

Before Y/N got to say something, the bartender gave Jenna her drink, and when she's ready to walk away, a photographer got in her way and said "Hey Y/N and Jenna, can you please pose so that I can take a shot"

Y/N greeted the photographer with a smile and accepted the request, she pulls Jenna near her, while Jenna tries to stay her ground, "Come girls closer" the photographer again said and Y/N thought, "This man surely knows how to stir the pot"

The both of them smiled for the camera, closer than they have been for 5 years. This was the first picture of them that they were this close to each other after their career boomed and well, after what they had.

"Thanks ladies, enjoy the night" the photographer said and left the duo. "Okay you can let go now" Jenna said, "For your information, I also don't like being linked to you, so I came here to clear things out, yeah?" Y/N said with a nod in her head.

That surprises Jenna "Okay, I get that, then go on and deny that we had a history" Jenna said challenging Y/N, "You first, you are always out doing interview, unlike me, I don't have any premiere shows or any other events like this" Y/N smirked.

It made Jenna's blood boil again, inhale and exhale, she reminded herself. She doesn't want to make a scene and be banned to this gala, this is her second time, she doesn't want it to be her last she thought.

Y/N walked away and left Jenna stunned with her drink on hand.

---

After the MET Gala, of course there would be an after party, Jenna was invited to many but decided to go to the nearest one to her hotel.

Trying to fix her make-up inside the car that she is on, she hears Enrique say, "Okay, slow down with the drinks, we don't need you going around the place" with a knowing look, Jenna then replied "That was ONE time oh my god, please let that go" with an annoyed tone.

Her car stopped at the entrance, looking outside through her window she saw a dozen of paparazzi trying to get a picture of none other than Y/F/N Y/L/N.

"Fuck, no fucking way" Jenna said to Enrique, still looking at the window, "What? What's the problem?" Enrique asked her worriedly, "Y/N is here, I can't stand another minute of faking smiles with her, every time I see her I fell like my stomach churns and I want to vomit so bad. Enrique please, let's go to another party" Jenna pleaded that earned a shakes to Enrique's head.

"Nope, can't be, your manager chose this party so you can mingle with different artist. I can't say no to that, and you know it" Enrique stated with a stern look, not giving Jenna a chance to say another word.

With a grunt Jenna whispers to herself "Here goes nothing" and exits the car. Another set of cameras are now trying to capture Jenna and her outfit for the afterparty, looking at the entrance, she saw Y/N rolled her eyes, Jenna thought "The fucking nerve of this girl t roll her eyes"

Now that they are in the same vicinity again, the paparazzi wasted no time and asked for a picture of them together, which they don't say no, since they don't want to cause another issue.

Y/N greeted Jenna with an open arm and huge smile, when Jenna got situated next to Y/N, she heard the other girl say "Are you stalking me?" which made Jenna look at the girl, with the heels that she is wearing, she stepped on Y/N's toe that made Y/N jerked in pain, with a worried voice Jenna said "Are you okay?"

With that, the security ushered the cameras away and assisted the both of them inside.

"DO you really need to step on me?" Y/N said, "Oh, I didn't mean to, really" Jenna answered, voice filled with sarcasm. Y/N have a deadpan look not believing what Jenna said "Yeah? You sure there?" Y/N said challenging Jenna, and that made Jenna smile "Of course not, I would do it again and again."

With that, Jenna left Y/N speechless. Y/N thought to herself "Is she that fucking angry at me? What did I even do to her?" and proceeded to enter the party and mingle with other artists.

The party actually went well for the both of them, avoiding each other like a plague, Y/N performing in the party and joining the DJ in the booth while Jenna tries to expand her connections and tries to know new faces.

Another hour have passed and Y/N was now taking a break from all the mingling and faking smiles and went to the bathroom, as if like faith is trying to take the both of them as a joke, she saw Jenna bending over the sink.

"Are you fine?" voiced laced with worry as Y/N walked slowly towards Jenna, "Don't come near me" Jenna said head still hanging low. Y/N stopped in her track and said "You are tipsy... or like drunk? You need to go home."

The statement made Jenna look at Y/N and said "What now, you're my mom now?" Y/N just rolled her eyes knowing that it is impossible to argue with a drunk Jenna. Y/N fished out her phone and texted someone, "Come on, I'll bring you to your hotel, can you tell me where it is?" Y/N asked while staying on her track.

"No, I won't go with you, I don't want to go with you can't you see that? Leave me alone" Jenna said trying to fix her make-up in front of the mirror, "Why not? You clearly can't walk straight I bet" Y/N said and chuckled. Jenna hates it, she hates that Y/N is right, that is why she is in the corner holding herself through the sink and not moving an inch because she knows she'll stumble with her drunk state and her heels so high.

Y/N take Jenna's silence as a cue to go to the other girl and support her. Jenna then said "We can't be seen going home together, I don't wanna be seen with you" It made Y/N's heart ache, is she that fucking bad in Jenna's perspective to the point that she doesn't want to be seen with her? Y/N just swallowed down the pain that she feels.

"Yeah, I messaged Enrique, he will meet us at the entrance and I'll make sure to not be seen with you." with a heavy sigh, Y/N supported Jenna to walk out of the bathroom through the crowd of people inside the party and into the entrance.

"Jenna, Enrique said he'll meet us at the front" Y/N notified and it made Jenna shakes her head "No... Y/N Nooooo" Jenna whined, it made Y/N chuckle, if she can have Jenna like this every time, not wanting to cut her throat, or sending sarcastic comments, she would make Jenna drink alcohol for as long as she wants, but she knows she can't.

But like their situation right now, Enrique can't really enter so they need to meet him in front.

"Jenna, I'm very sorry but we really need to meet him in front" Y/N said and telling to the security that they will go out of the establishment, which the security ushered them to.

Flashes of light welcomed them to the outside world, not far enough Y/N saw Enrique waiting for Jenna. "Thanks, I'm really sorry I can't meet you inside" Enrique said which Y/N answered "It's okay, take care, I'll be back inside"

___

"WE CAN SEE YOU: Jenna Ortega and Y/F/N Y/L/N seen going home together after the after party for the MET GALA"

Actress Jenna Ortega and Singer Y/F/N Y/L/N seen together leaving the after party hand in hand. But before this, they are also seen in the red carpet, fans capturing how the singer look at the actress. They have also been asked with questions pertaining to them being together but the both of them swam around the topic. Another photo of them was released mingling by the the bar inside the MET, having all smiles and flirting with each other.

Their fans have been speculating that they were together ever since High School and just kept it lowkey due to their reputation and their careers. The fans also tried to make sense of Y/N's released songs and connected it to the actress, which can somehow make sense, but we can't be for sure knowing that the singer also have a list of exes.

The fans and the media seemed to not disagree and hate their dynamic, instead they hope that what they speculate is real, knowing and seeing how beautiful they look together.

Stay tuned for the latest update towards our favorite couple, or may I say duo? Who knows, right?

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Hope you enjoy this new series, thoughts?

Chapter 2

[zeezelweazel]

For an alexia fic you could do one where shes super jealous of reader talking to an old friend or getting too close to a teammate and then roll with the jealous smut ✌️

Alexia Putellas| Does she do you better?|

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I think I've become a pro at jealous smut at this point

First top Alexia fic let's gooo (sorry if this was cringe af I'm not used to writing top ale)

TW: possessiveness, light choking (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), degradation, afab reader

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After Alexia's injury, practice was weird. She was there but she wasn't training with the rest of you. Instead she had a team of physicians instructing her with some specific drills she had to do. You obviously understand that her situation requires for her to be under special training but training sessions aren't as fun as they used to without her.

Ona quickly noticed how unfocused and quiet you were during training. The freckled spaniard did everything she could to cheer you up during training. You two could often be seen laughing and teasing eachother. Like right now, when you're chasing Ona with a water bottle filled with cold water after she dumped her own water on your head.

Ona is panting and frantically looking around the pitch trying to escape but she's too late. Suddenly she's hit with a wave of ice cold water and she's left standing like an ice pillar, gasping at the cold water in shock. You laugh at her face, completely uncaring about her shivering. Ona glares at you and punches your arm which only makes you laugh harder.

While you're having fun with Ona, you're completely unaware that a pair of hazel eyes is pinned on your laughing form. Alexia is sitting on the bleachers with a deadly glare and her jaw clenched tightly.

"You okay Ale?"

She barely turns her head to look at Mapi and only humms a response. Mapi frowns and follows her best friend's line of sight. A look of realisation crosses her face when she sees you and Ona. She's been waiting for Alexia to blow up about this for a long time. Mapi only smirks before walking away.

You're currently packing all your stuff in your training bag, tired and more than ready to head home. As you turn around to look for Alexia you take a step back in surprise when the woman in question appears right behind you.

"Ale you scared me to death, what are you-"

Before you can finish your sentence Alexia pulls you into her by grabbing your biceps and forces your mouths together in a heated and rough kiss. Her tongue enters your mouth and her hands find place at your neck and you moan when she squeezes.

Alexia pulls back after a few seconds, panting but not pulling away from you, with her hands still resting on your neck.

"Alexia, what is this?"

Alexia's jaw sets and her eyebrows frow dangerously. She pushes you down on the benches and forcibly raises your head so you're looking up at her, your eyes wide but dark with lust and desire. Alexia only seems to get angrier.

"You dirty slut. You like being passed around huh? Like a common whore."

Alexia's words were harsh and you had to resist the urge to rub your thighs together. You didn't know what she was referring to, or what caused any of this but currently you didn't care. You just wanted her to fuck you.

When Alexia notices your lack of response she climbs on top of you and starts harshly bitting your neck. Her teeth leave ugly marks all over your and you can only helplessly moan. You spread your legs wider, hoping that Alexia would get the hint but you doubt that she wants to pleasure you right now. This feels more like a punishment but you don't know why.

Alexia's hands sneak into your training shirt and grope at your breasts roughly pulling and twisting your nipples. You whine and throw your head back bringing your hands up to twist them in her blonde hair. The stinging pain mixed with the pleasure feels so good, you're certain that your panties are ruined with how wet you are right now.

"Please, Ale..."

Alexia pulls away from your neck, which is the last thing you wanted her to do. Her hands keep lazily working on your breasts as she stares you down with an icy glare.

"You're begging already. Would you beg for her this easily?"

You choke on a gasp when her hands return to your neck and your mind starts to turn. It all finally clicked.

Alexia was jealous.

You gulp and look up at her through your eyelashes.

"No."

Alexia's face twisted like she didn't believe you. Then in an instant her hands gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head. Your bra followed soon after and so you were left sitting on the bench in the locker room topples and ready to be fucked by Alexia. For this moment it's like both you and Alexia have completely forgotten you're in a public place.

Alexia doesn't waste any time. She pulls your hips closer to her and her hands move down your legs, teasing the inside of your thighs. Her lips move down your collarbone and your hips are starting to shift against the hard wood, you grip the bench with one hand and use the other to try and muffle all of your moans.

Her fingers move to rub you through your underwear and you throw your head back as you gasp in surprise and pleasure. You think about begging again but Alexia is shoving two fingers in your cunt before you can think twice about it. You find it much harder to keep quiet now that she's roughly moving her fingers inside you. She moves her head away from your collarbone and starts placing kisses on your neck, right over the marks she left on you earlier. When she's done she moves higher until her hot breath hits the shell of your ear.

"Who does this pussy belong to? "

You whine at her words and the movement of her hand. You don't have the mind to answer right now and Alexia only gets rougher in response. Her other hand comes down to pinch your clit and you yelp loudly.

"I asked you a fucking question."

Her hand was moving faster and your back was repeatedly hitting the lockers, the clanking noise joining in with your moans and the wet, filthy sounds coming from your pussy.

"You! My pussy is yours, all yours!"

Alexia groaned at your answer, obviously pleased with you. She kept fucking you, pulling you in for a rough kiss to quiet you down. The noises were bound to attract someone but maybe that turned you on even more.

You came with a muffled scream as your thighs shook and your walls clamped down on Alexia's hand. Alexia found a random towel to clean you both up and sits down next to you. You both sit in a quiet embrace for a while before you break the silence with a giggle.

"I guess I should thank Ona, huh?"

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[confiaenanaa]

I just saw this post on instagram and I really loved the 'directing' aesthetic. I was wondering if you can work it into a Em x y/n where she's hired to direct one of his music videos and they get along so well, always goofing off on set. Maybe they hang out off set too and she uses the videos she takes of him on her cell phone to use them for the video. Idk that post just gave me Em x director!y/n vibes.

https://www.instagram.com/p/DBt-zboy5Ya/?igsh=MTUybWI1NG5wODM0NQ==

directing - eminem

director!fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Y/N and Marshall have a cute friendship as she directs his music video

A/N: sooo I wrote this at 2 am so it might be bad (if it is i'll delete and start over I'll have to see in the morning) but I did enjoy this request! keep 'em coming. but just know there'll be more content out VERY soon!!

Y/N did not think she’d ever see herself directing a music video like this one, but, a check is a check. This video was definitely fun to film, though.

The set of Superman was quite the place to be. On the first day of filming, Y/N made her way over to the dressing people to let them know which outfit Marshall would be filming in today. That’s when she saw him. He was leaving his trailer, wearing a wife-beater and some gray sweats. She’d never seen someone like that before. 

-Do I got somethin’ on my face?

-Oh, um, no, no, sorry. 

-It’s aight.

He giggled a bit as he said that last part. He thought it was kind of cute how she’d get nervous around him. He knew she’d be fun to mess with as soon as he’d noticed her displeasure for social interactions. 

...

Throughout the time of filming, Marshall and Y/N grew sort of close. They’d hang out in his trailer and crack jokes during filming. Especially during freaky scenes. Y/N would always make fun of him when he’d be doing those scenes, making him laugh and having to start over. The cast and crew noticed the friendship growing rapidly, but chose not to comment over it. 

They’d realized they got along really well, and they enjoyed the same things. They started to hang out on and off set regularly. They even arranged pizza night where they’d go down to Y/N’s apartment and eat pizza (Marshall’s idea) and then have a spa night (Y/N’s counter idea). 

Marshall hated doing face masks and hair masks but it made Y/N happy and that was all Marshall needed. He’d do a million masks if he’d see that smile once more (though he’d never admit it). 

Y/N would take photos of him constantly on her digital camera and her phone. Always laughing when she saw them. She created an album with all these photos and would laugh at them next to him just to annoy him. During filming, whenever he’d look over in her direction, she’d pull up one of the photos and he’d break character.

They were truly any crew’s worst nightmare. But, they were adorable and Marshall’s friends couldn’t get enough. After so much heartache, they were just glad that he was happy again. 

During the post-filming/editing process, Y/N decided to add some of the photos and videos from pizza night to the music video and thought it’d be a fun addition. You know, like a contrast; one night he’d be partying with girls all over him and then living the lazy life the next. 

When they first watched the video, Marshall’s friends couldn’t stop laughing. They loved the idea and kept replaying it. Marshall acted like he wasn’t amused, but everyone could tell that he was secretly enjoying it. 

It seemed like the fans enjoyed it too. Always asking who the mystery camera woman was and who was behind the voice in the video. Even during interviews, they’d ask Marshall:

-So, is the girl behind the camera your girlfriend? -I don’t know. He said, smirking. Little did he know she sat in her bed watching that video forever trying to read between the lines and figure out if he truly likes her.

[valsvalentine]

The other woman

·˚ ༘summary. A new student joined the school; seeming pretty friendly you had all decided to befriend the girl and let her in on your fun. However the girl wasn’t as friendly and nice as you thought she was, soon finding out that people can be a bit two faced.

·˚ ༘genre. angst

·˚ ༘warning. not proof read

part I .. part II .. part III .. part IV

Things have been strange ever since your last hang out with Yuji. He’s given the kinds of signals that he might like you but then would act like he only thought of you as a friend. Nobara tried asking him about you, but the responses were typically something along the lines of “She’s cool.” or “She’s fun to be around.” which didn’t help your case.

Weeks passed and you kept hanging out, sometimes even just the two of you which never failed to be anything less then fun. You got along quite well as yourself and even as your anonymous persona, which confused you even more. Would he be dissapointed if he found out it was you?

You walked into the school like usual, only this time you weren’t as cheery or bubbly as you usually were which was strange. Nobara and Maki noticed almost instantly, which got them to interogate you like parents afree you went out with a boy for the first time. ‘Okay you need to sit down and tell us what’s weong cuz this is not our Y/N.” Nobara says sternly and slides over your favourite soda to cheer you up. Maki throws you a candy bar and ruffles up your hair with a concerned look. “Yeah kid you look horrible.” She says in a joking manner but earns a glare from Nobara. You smile lightly at the two girls trying their best to comfort you, sometimes hating how well they know you and that nothing just slides past them so easily. “I don’t know I’ve just been thinking lately.” Nobara lifts a brow and urges you to continue. “About?”

“Yuji.” Maki finishes and you instantly look at her with a taken aback expression. “Eh? How do you know?” You whine, your leg bouncing up and down out of pure habit. “I just know you too well.” Maki said casually and sat down on your right while Nobara sat on your left.

And finally that broke you. You told them everything, showed them all of the messages and how you felt. Everything came pouring out at once and they let you collect your thoughts patiently. Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes yet nothing came out because you were too embarrassed to cry in front of hundreds of students.

Maki glanced at Nobara, and the two exchanged a knowing look before Maki got a ‘bright’ idea; "Why don’t you try being more direct? You’ve got nothing to lose you know?” You looked at her with a ‘seriously’ kind of look before throwing your hands around like crazy as you spoke. “Are you insane? Are you trying to embarrass me?” You said and started rambling on and on about how that was not a good idea and why keeping your anonymous persona would be a hundred times better and that things would get better in no time. Nobara and Maki just sighed, letting you live in your delusions for a little while longer, knowing damn well they’d pull you out of that mess if it meant you were going to get hurt. They cared for you, they truly did and they wouldn’t just sabotage you to make you hurt more.

You all walked to your class after eating lunch, talking about a supposedly new student joining all the way from Osaka. “Why do you guys think she transferred?” Nobara whispered, turning in her seat to face you and Maki who were sitting behind her. But before you could answer the teacher burst in along with the new girl.

You soon learned that the girls name was Emiko. She was tall, with long black hair and an air of confidence that immediately drew everyone's attention. A hoard of whispers started to fill the room before the teacher quieted the class down and introduced her more thoroughly. She looked pretty mature and level headed— maybe having a new classmate wouldn’t be that bad after all?

As the weeks passed Emiko quickly became part of the group, hanging out with everyone at school and soon even outside of school. At first you were ecstatic to have her as a friend since she was always kind and gave everyone food at school or gave them simple compliments; but you noticed she especially did so with Yuji. She’d always be around him and would more so chat with him then with anyone else and always interrupted your conversations whenever you wanted to hang out just the two of you for a while as the group discussed something not so important in your eyes. And soon the nit picking comments, glares, harsh words and fake incidents started. It started off pretty normal; she’d always have something to say about what you did, how you did it, what you wore that day or even what and how much you ate.

“Oh Y/N your hairs a bit messy, do you not have a brush at home? Here let me give you one, okay?”

“Aren’t those jeans from [shop name]? Heard those are pretty cheap. Are they good quality? You know you can always borrow something odd mine though I’m not sure if they’ll fit you since you’ve gotten such an appetite lately!”

“That looks wrong let me help you! It’s okay some people are just pretty slow at this. Maybe try considering a tutor? Can you afford that?”

It was like she had a problem with just you and Nobara seemed to notice first. Maki soon became suspicious of the girls behaviour and would sometimes snap back to shut her up. “Maybe she doesn’t find those expensive rags you wear as likeable as you do?” “Why shouldn’t she be able to afford it?” “Her hair is just fine like what are you even talking about?” Yet she’d always find a way to make it sound like she’s only helping out a friend.

Then came the gaslighting and manipulation. She’d pry information out of you to later use against you, even getting you to tell her about your little crush on Yuji and how you’ve been dealing with it; that being the anonymous texting. What could go wrong? She’s someone you can trust, right?

Soon winter came and everyone was gettinf ready to celebrate the upcoming holidays; the school organizing a kind of winter dance. You wanted to ask Yuji to go with you, planning out the whole day and how your ‘proposal’ would go. Little did you know someone had already asked the pink haired boy; Emiko had asked him the day before you without you knowing and Yuji had agreed, thinking nothing of it since he thought it would only be as friends. He kindly declined your proposal, apologising profusely for letting you down and you could do nothing more but just walk away and find your friends to plan that special say with them.

You all went shopping for dresses and suits, you getting a nice winter themed dress while the others bought something on theme as well. You all had a lot of fun that day, even Emiko seemed especially kind that day which was nee but welcome. Nobara found it a bit suspicious, you, Maki and Nobara calling later that day to discuss the matter. “Don’t you think she was a bit off today?” Nobara said as she put on a face mask. You shrugged, brushing your wet hair and getting some of the jewellery you wanted to wear ready for tomorrow. “Don’t know, she was pretty cool today which is a nice change.” “N/N people don’t just change overnight, I don’t know it just seems pretty weird.” Maki said and Nobara nodded; “Yeah and especially not after praying on your down fall for the whole time she’s been here!” You chuckles a bit at the statement, shaking your head. “Maybe she had a change of heart?”

The day of the dance you all got ready and met up half an hour sooner to get a ride to school. It was hosted to be at 6pm and would be ending at around 9 which was long enough for you all to have fun together. You danced, sang along to songs and ate to your hearts content; the school doing an exceptionally great job with the food and drinks. Your night couldn’t have been better until you went out for fresh air; accidentally hearing Emiko’s and Yuji’s conversation.

“I’m the one that has been messaging you anonymously for a while now, and I thought today would be the best time to finally confess!” She said and tucked a peace of her hair behind her ear.

“But you joined our school just a few months ago? How did you get my number?” He asked suspiciously and backed away from the girl, clearly quite uncomfortbale.

“Well I came here during the sport event to see what your school was like and.. I saw you! I asked around, one thing lead to another and I got your number!” She said enthusiastically and if you weren’t the one that was behind this, you would’ve believed her.

Yuji looked shocked to say the least, well shocked enough that he didn’t care to ask for proof and believed her, not looking as happy as he thought he would be. Would he be more upset if it was you? Maybe it was good she took the credit, she saved you from the embarrassment that could’ve came with you confessing. Yeah.. everything would be fine.

That day you left the dance early without a word, waking up the next day to hundreds of texts and missed calls from Nobara, Maki and a few others. You typed a quick message into your groupchat on instagram and put your phone away. Finally the holidays were here but everything felt different then usual. It wasn’t as relaxing or exciting to be free of school for a few days like it usually was, now it just felt empty. There were no emotions left for you to pour out, there were no more tears able to fall from your red puffy eyes, no more screams and hateful words were able to fall out from your sore throat so you just layed there in your own misery that you’ve created.

taglist: @cookiemunches @slut-for-fictional-men @thejadeazalea