#your beautiful girl your beautiful title your beautiful friends and compliments that you have here

[jeysbaby]

This hurt me so bad im crying right now making imaginary dialogues that Jey could say to Roman and Jimmy in the next few days,but at the same time JIMMY DESERVES ALLLL THE ANGRY THAT JEY HAVE AND ROMAN TO YOU MADE THIS MAN GET OUT OF SMACKDOWN APPEARED IN ALL HIS MATCHES, HIT HIM WITHOUT MERCY and want his help?no Jimmy, jey is having fun on raw let my man be happy

[aphroditesmoon]

Okay but like…clarisse jealous?

I like a challenge when the prize is you

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

warnings: platonic luke x reader, kissing, title is from center by sir chloe.

wc: 2.0k

Today was your birthday, and though birthdays aren't exactly a big thing in camp half blood, considering there are probably more than 300 kids here, your cabin siblings decided to plan out a small party to celebrate it anyways.

You are easily one of the most highly respected demigod here. When you first arrived at camp, you held your ground and barely showed any fear nor awkwardness. You were friendly and charming but knew when to not take people's shit, that had earned you a favorable reputation and had gotten your godly parent to claim you after only being there for two weeks. 

People liked you. And because of the way you're perceived, they were all pretty surprised to find you in a secured relationship with the commonly known camp boogeyman.

You and Clarisse hit it off rather quickly. What started as a playful banter bloomed into a strongly bonded friendship, and then soon enough, became a romantic relationship. 

The two of you grounded eachother constantly, you compliment eachother personality wise, and you just have much more in common then people think. 

Equally as excited as your cabin siblings, Clarisse arrived right on time for your party in your cabin. The event was a private one, only your siblings and close friends are invited.

They had worked together baking a lovely raspberry cheese cake for you along with some brownies and chips. Despite it being your party, you were warned of stealing a taste of any of the food before the party begun.

You were immensely grateful when the clock finally hit 8pm and everyone invited finally arrived. "Can I cut the cake now?" You asked for the 5th time.

"Yes." Your siblings answered together, laughing at your excitement. Clarisse sat by your left, passing you the cake cutter. "Can you do it?" She mumbles as she watches you struggle to push it all the way down. 

You hummed positively and pressed on harder untik the knife finally reaches the bottom of the cake and everyone cheered. "There you go." You mutter to yourself.

Continuing to cut the rest of the cake, you soom began passing the pieces to everyone on paper plates before leaving the rest of it for yourself.

Clarisse was quick to scoop up a section of it with a spoon to wave it over your face. "Alright baby, you know how it goes, open up." Everyone else was laughing at the sentiment, but you weren't bothered by it at all, opening your mouth wide open for Clarisse to feed you like a mother does to her toddler. 

The party hat you were wearing really tied it all together. Nothing says festive more than a coney party hat with pink and yellow polka dots over them. 

"Oh this is amazing." You say with your mouth full, moaning at the taste. "Here, let me do it." You offered quickly,  taking the spoon from Clarisse to feed her the same way. 

If it was any other day, she'd rather die than get caught being babied like this, but it was your birthday, so automatically, you get a free pass. 

"Someone should take a photo." One of the girls called out, Clarisse' glare immediately shut her up. You laughed at her reaction, squeezing her cheek. "Oh no, you're grumpy again." She rolled her eyes and relaxed her face from all the frowning.

"I'm not grumpy, I just naturally look like this." She defends herself as she eats her portion of the cake. 

Music was playing on the back, a mix of Debussy and Tchaikovsky on shuffle as everyone knew how overwhelming loud party music made you feel.

It was all well and beautiful, everything went better than expected, and it's in these moments, surrounded by your loved ones and feeling your happiest, that you feel the luckiest in life. 

It was present sharing time when you heard your cabin door knocked on. You ignored it ar first, letting your sibling check on the visitor as you continue to open your presents. 

"Oh my god, it's a cat sweater!" You exclaimed at your sister's gift. She was only 10 with a passion for sewing and fashion, and she probably took days to make the sweater. You could see the slightly folded and unsymmetric edges, making it even more endearing. 

"You said it's your favourite animal." You nodded your head and bear hugged her. "It is, thank you for this." 

You were about to open your 4th present when your sibling that you had sent to check on the door came sprinting back. "Who is it?" You asked with a raised brow.

"It's, Luke." The name caused the noise around you to husb down. You could feel Clarisse stiffen next to you when you smiled. "Oh, is he joining us?" You doubt it, seeing as he wasn't exactly invited, and it was already so much people here.

"No, he said he wants to see you outside." 

You and Luke are as close as he is with anyone else. His face is usually what new campers are met with, being the leader of Hermes cabin and all, he's always taken the role of the mentor very naturally, never having a problem helping the new kids find where they belong.  

Clarisse unfortunately doesn't view your friendship with him as just that. You've seen the way she tries to size him up whenever he attempts to talk to you alone.

You stood up from your sitting position and ushered your friends and siblings to get back at the eating and dancing as you walk yourself out of the cabin to meet him.

Your hand slips away from Clarisse's. You give her a quick smile that meant 'don't worry about me', before you disappeared from her sight.

Just as you were informed, Luke is outside the door when you exit from it. He wears his easygoing grin when he sees you. You returned his smile and spoke his name.

"Hey." He greeted you. "Got the birthday girl a present." He shows you the small box he carried with him, wiggling his brows as he speaks.

"Oh, Luke, you shouldn't have." He shook his head at you nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it, just wanted to get you something." His presses the box into your hand and folded your fingers over it before taking a step back.

"Thank you, Luke." You tell him, meaning those words. He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Your welcome. Now, I'm sure you'd like to go back to your party. See you tomorrow?" You nod your head.

"Alright then, have a good night, happy birthday." You waved at him as he walks off towards his own cabin, waiting until he's a few steps away before going back in. 

You were glad that no one really noticed you until you were near to the group to sit down. Though Clarisse's eyes were on you as soon as you entered the cabin.

Some of them stopped eating as they moved to seat crisscrossed closer to you. "What did he want?" One of them asked. 

You lifted the box up for them to see. They responded with an 'oooh' as they wait for you to open it. "It's so small." Your younger sibling noted, hovering above the box. "Maybe it's a ring." The other suggested. You snorted and shook your head.

"And where would he find a ring around here, less alone to make one." You knew it wasn't a ring. Besides the fact that he didn't have your ring size, he wouldn't give you such a bold gift that could cause a misunderstanding and piss of Clarisse at the same time. 

You opened it gently and awed at it's inside. It was a brooch. One in the size of your thumb. A golden coloured hibiscus engraved brooch. "This is lovely." You noted, letting everyone else look at it.

"It's fine." Clarisse countered, her nose scrunching at the view.

As your younger sibling held it in her hand to properly look at it, you reach over to Clarisse, intertwining your fingers together again. "What about you? No gift for little ol' me?" You ask her jokingly.

"Of course I got you a gift," she scoffed, leaning in to your side. "But I'm not gonna give it here. These chatterboxes can't be trusted."

"These chatterboxes are my siblings." She shrugged at your words. "Never said you weren't a chatterbox either." You gasped loudly, faking offense and lightly slapping her arm. Her grouch falls away, her pursed lips curved into a small smile. 

The rest of the party went well, you managed to get everyone to finish the food so there wouldn't be any leftovers. And despite the argument your cabin presented, you helped them cleanuo the mess and threw away the trash before ot was time to turn off the lights.

You made sure all your younger siblings have been tucked in and all your older ones are done with the chores before you and Clarisse leave the cabin past 11pm.

Some of the girls sent you teasing looks before you left,  but they all swore to secrecy and made sure to cover for you just incase Chiron or Mr.D heard of your little past curfew late night walks.

Once the two of you made it further into the woods, Clarisse pulls you by the arm to sit down next to her on the less harsher part of the grass. You immediately moved to wrap your arm around her neck, resting your head underneath her chin, she wraps her own arms around you and placed a chaste kiss on your hair. 

"Happy birthday." She whispers against your forehead. 

You looked up at her from your position and eyes her suspiciously. "I thought you said you had a present for me?"

A short laugh escapes her as she ruffles your hair. "My presence is not a gift enough for you?" You blinked and answered; "No." 

Clarisse laughs again and uses her right hand to pull something out of the inside pocket of her jacket. "Well, at least you're honest." She did not have a box or a wrapper like the others did. But your heart melted at the sight of the present still.

It was a string of pearls. A necklace. And you could tell from the shine and the ivory colour of it that they weren't fake pearls. They attracted you like a moth to a flame.

"Clarisse, this is beautiful." You told her, she passes it onto your hands and watch as you eye them closely. "I know. Better than the stupid pin." You brows raise at that, your gaze darts from the necklace to her face. 

"Careful Clar, some might say you sound a bit jealous." She huffs and winces at that. "I'm not jealous- I- I just...don't like him." 

"And why don't you like him?" You question her. "Because he keeps hitting on my girlfriend." She answers in a matter of factly tone. "Being nice doesn't equal flirting." You tell her.

"I know that. Does he know that?" 

Clarisse has never liked the way Luke talked to you, and sometimes you genuinely wonder if she was right and if it was you who never noticed any of his romantic advances. But your principle has always been straight to the point, if he doesn't say it outright, then it's not real.

"Well, he hasn't crossed a line so far, so I'd say yes." It wasn't that you're trying to defend Luke, you just don't see what he's done so far that deserves defending at all. 

Clarisse grunted in response and pulls you back into her arms. You refrain from holding her by placing your palms on her chest. "Wait, put it on me first." 

Something clicks behind her eyes like she just remembered about her gift. "Oh, right." You turn around with your back facing her. Clarisse places the pearls over your neck and hooks the back together in one try.

Twisting your body to face her again, you fiddled with the necklace and looked at her for approval. "Well?" She smiled as her fingers came close to your face to brush away the strands of hair covering your cheek. "It fits you." 

You let her pull you by the back of your head to kiss her, welcoming her lips with yours. 

Not that you'd ever admit it aloud, but having her by your side would always be the real birthday gift to you.

[sugudoe]

ᥫ᭡ . ֺ FUCK IT, GUESS WE BOTH AIN'T SHIT.ᐟ

⠀ ╰ 𝐟𝐰𝐛!𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐱 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

. ֺ﹢ cw: smut ╱ modern!au ╱ no protection ╱ reader has a past with toji and geto ╱ satoru unlocks a new kink, breading. ╱ brat!reader ╱ jealous!gojo ╱ possessive!gojo ╱ friends with benefits ╱ alcohol ╱ fingering ╱ minors dni. ╱ pussy drunk!gojo might need to settle down for you.

. ֺ﹢ a. n: am i slowly becoming a smut acc? who knows. @emilyywhyy 2.5k words.

neon lights have always complimented gojo’s beauty. unfortunately, the bastard knew that. under the green and blue tones, with his black shirt buttoned down, a red cup with beer decorating his hand while the other kept sliding over a random girl’s body. still, his eyes could only focus on you. as if begging for your attention.

it’s common knowledge that he wants and need you to act on it, to push the girl away and take him somewhere else. the thing is — he will soon learn — two can play this game.

when you turn around, walking away in the mini strapless black dress that he bought, your last vision of him is the smirk being replaced by annoyance. like a predator, you hunt the house halls before coming to the kitchen, where he can have the perfect view of your animalistic movements.

you pass your hands on suguru’s back, he stares at you over his shoulder, a smile that says it all — he knows what you want, what you are there for. not many parties ago, you managed this goal, and the consequence was a large bruise on your ass.

" not this time, lovely. he will kill me. " geto whisper too close to your ears, he holds your waist for steadiness, laughing when he catch you pouting. " go for toji, he doesn’t give a fuck about satoru. "

following suguru’s gaze, you see the strong and large back of fushiguro toji facing you, while he grabs vodka and gin, mixing it like a deadly poison. in a trance, you move his way, hearing your friend laughing behind you. you stop by toji’s side, staring at his mixing with wonder, while sensing many eyes on your back — specially gojo’s.

" watchu doin’? " toji snorts at your question, handling you his cup before deciding against it, he slaps your waiting hands away and bring the cup to your lips. you take a gulp out of the venom, staring at him with doe eyes, before moving your head away. " that’s awful, toji! "

" that’s a party drink, not those fruity things you keep drinking… " he stares at something behind, sipping his cup like it’s water before smiling, back at you. " … or beer. "

he means gojo, of course. satoru doesn’t like any alcohol, but he keeps sipping on beer to seem normal, you could guess. deciding to not indulge in toji’s antics, instead grabbing his cup and sipping on it again. doing your best but failing to not make a face.

" what are you here for, doll? " toji leans on the counter, grabbing your hips to pull you closer. " trying to make a show for your little boyfriend? "

" maybe… " ignoring the title he gave satoru, you move your arms to his strong shoulders, feeling the muscles under his shirt. " although, i would not mind having you this night. " one of your hands move down, scrapping his neck and chest.

toji laughs, drowning his drink in three gulps, he throws the cup somewhere before grabbing your waist and putting you on the counter. legs open for him to settle between them, he gives you no more words to say before roughly kissing you. tasting the alcohol on his tongue like a poison you would willingly take, hands moving to pull his short black hair, you almost forgets your plan for the night.

good thing is gojo satoru does not forgot his.

the party goes silent, making toji groans while separating himself from you. you both stare behind, where gojo is leaning on the opposite counter, crossed arms with veins popping.

" you’re fucked. " toji pecks your lips, departing himself from you and grabbing the nearest bottle of whiskey he can find, then he vanishes.

gojo replace his position in between your tights before you can even close your legs. his strong hands goes straight to your hips, already hurting a bit. oh, you really are fucked.

" what the fuck was that? ” he asks when everyone else goes back to their drunk lives. " you were almost fucking each-other on my counter, my party. " he is trying to say that you are his as well.

" that’s none of your business, gojo. " you push him away, getting off the counter and walking to the second floor. he follows you, of course.

you tried to block his entrance from his bedroom, but gojo has always been stronger, specially when he is mad. he goes inside and sighs at you, sitting on his bed and staring at the window.

" why the fuck you keep kissing my friends, mhm? " he locks the door, then moves to be in front of you. his long fingers on your chin obliging you to stare at him. " c’mon, baby. talk to me. "

" why do you care, gojo? " his grip grows tighter, he doesn’t like when you call him that. " it’s not like you weren’t doing the same, before me might i add. " you slap his hand but he puts the other on the same place right away.

" it’s different, i didn’t kissed her. "

" you were about to, don’t lie to me. " grabbing his arm, you push him to fall on the bed, immediately strapping him. " we shouldn’t care about that anyway. " you start to unbuckle his pants, while satoru stares at you confused. " we’re just friends, right? "

" friends don’t fuck each-other. " he counterparts.

" some do — we do. " he groans at your statement. " stop whining, satoru, you wanted this, remember? something along the lines of being too young to settle down. "

" that’s ‘cause i’m a dick, princess. i keep making terrible choices, actually. " his hand move to rise the dress up to your waist. " you’re so hot, why can’t i have you only for myself? "

" you can. " moving closer, you avoid his lips by kissing his neck multiple times. " if you became only mine. "

" can’t do, princess. y’know we won’t work like that. "

" you’re right, baby. we both ain’t shit. " you laugh, deciding to spare you both from this misery and kissing him deeply.

instinctively, gojo responds to the kiss right away, and his largue hands move to your hips. he dictate your movements over his bulge, gasping with the feeling of your clothed pussy on top of him. when you move your lips to his neck again, gojo decides it’s the perfect time to reprimand your actions early. not caring that he was basically doing the same, it was never a secret how hypocrite he could be.

taking you by surprise, gojo shifts both of your positions quickly, somehow you end up on all fours, hands behind your head pressing it to the cushion. your protests turn into a moan, when his other hand starts to massage your pussy over the red lacy, also something he bought for you.

" i bought all of this for you, even the fucking jewelry and shoes, and you were going to let toji see it all? " he asks while moving the underwear aside, penetrating one… two.. three of his long fingers.

" actually, geto was my first choice, but… argh! " a hard slap on your ass cut off your little unnecessary rambling, you tried to hide your face and victorious smile on the sheets, but satoru held your hair in a fist, pushing you towards him, making his fingers go more deeper in you, ‘till his knuckles.

with a irritated face, satoru starts to move it upwards, curling them perfectly to that spot only he can reach. violently and soo good, you can feel the build up of an release he won’t let you have anytime soon.

" shut the fuck up, yn — this is where you’re weak, right? " he growls as his fingers continue to move fast inside you, who desperately tries to to follow his pacing. you need him inside you, the beating pulse of his cock and head reaching where he knows you’re more sensitive.

gojo’s hold on you vanished, you stared over your shoulder to see how entranced he was with your ass jiggling. he was so easy to distract, as much as he was to irritate.

" don’t worry, baby, i can fuck them, but i’ll always come back to you in the end. " you smirk and suppress a giggle by biting your lips when a second slap arrives after your statement.

gojo knows how amusing this all must be to you, he used to think the same, both of you using your terrible manners to have a more rough hookup. yet, now, for some fucking reason he doesn’t like any of it. you’re dressed for him — by him, in his house, his party. fuck, you are his.

" how ‘bout we try something different today, baby? " he raises your dress higher to your chest before ripping your underwear to shreds. your protests is hidden behind a moan when he slaps you again. " we should do it raw today. "

" what — why? " you’re not opposed to it, satoru senses you clenching his now slow pacing fingers.

" let’s have something of our own. "

" o-okay, baby. " you’re not scared, but a bit anxious, maybe. it’s your first time without protection, and it’s also a little dream you’ve had for a while, but only with gojo.

he smiles triumphantly, before removing his fingers and bringing it to your waiting lips — so well trained, he thinks. you suck on them like it’s his cock, slobbering over it with doe eyes on him. you’re begging for more, he knows it right away. cooing you with pets on your head, he goes to removing all of his clothes and helping you take off the dress. you try to lay on your back, but gojo hold on your hips stop you.

" no no, baby. i want you like this. " going back to the position of ass up and head down, you sigh impatient for him to go inside you.

" why are you taking so long? can’t get it up… mhmp! " your moan keeps going, just like satoru’s cock keeps parting your walls and penetrating your hot core. it’s a new feeling you both know will ruin everything — ain’t no way you’re going back to condoms after that.

he feels the same, your wrapping on him makes it all more sensitive now. with both hands on your hips, satoru knows he is bruising them with the strength to not lose control, but fuck, he knows it’s a battle to be lost with the way you whimper under him. you both are enjoying it way too much.

when gojo is all inside you, and both of your faces are red and gasping, he slowly moves his hand over your stomach, pressing onto something just inches under your bellybutton, that shakes you.

" can you feel it, baby? that’s me. " holy fuck.

he doesn’t wait for your response, with one of his hands on your back and the other on his bulge inside you, gojo starts his so long awaited thrusts. never one to be calm, they already have the bed shaking in mere seconds and you mumbling incoherent words. what satoru gets is you begging for more, for faster. and who the fuck is he if not the man to oblige to all your commands?

removing the only hand on your hips and bringing it to his bed frame, gojo uses it to have a balance and starts moving harder inside you, you scream desperate for it, glad that the party downstairs can’t hear you. his other hand won’t leave his budge alone, you thought, until you sense it going downwards to touch your clit.

" no-no, go..gojo! " it’s too much, but he doesn’t give a fuck. swiftly moving the bundle of nerves with his experienced fingers, in that way that makes your pussy grip nearly impossible to remove himself.

that’s exactly what he wants.

gojo keeps the thrusts mercifully, any beg you ask he shall comply right away. good thing is you’re not asking for him to slow down or stop, you’re as addicted to it as him, keeping the command of being tougher, harder, he knows if he moves away you will tear down him to pieces. both his hands go back to your hips, eyes addicted to seeing your exposed back and moving ass, gojo falls to another temptation of his.

the starts with small kisses on your shoulders, and soon, his wet tongue is sliding across you, leaving bite marks and purple hickeys evidently anywhere he can get. your messy brain can’t digest anything that is happening but the feeling of lust impregnating the room, so gojo takes his chances with marking you.

" ‘toru, argh! " you’re calling call him back to reality, he waits for you to say something but you’re too busy with your eyes closed and mouth hanging open. so cute, gojo thinks.

" you’re gonna cum, princess? " you nod with a gasp. " cum for me, baby, c’mon. "

following his words, gojo’s hands go back to your clitoris, instigating the orgasms faster. you keep moving towards him, meeting his thrusts halfway, and gojo starts to feel his own release coming, he swears on your ears. you both agreed to no condoms, but can he cum inside you, fill you up with himself?

he wants to ask, but you’re too occupied with reaching your own high. gojo closes his eyes, focused on making you cum and keeping himself away from doing the same, it’s a hard task with the way you wrap around him, as if trying to milk him dry, and your pretty moans of his nickname over and over, like it’s the only thing you can say in the world.

" toru, cum… in me! " you babble, moving your head so you can show him properly your begging eyes, full of fat tears. " please, please! "

" it’s okay, princess, i’ll do it. " he can sense how much more closer both of you became with this new information. " i’m going to get you so full, baby. "

always complying to his promises, gojo feels you starting to cum and follow right away, mixing both of your releases inside your hot walls, long moans being drawn from your throats, before you start to mumble and wiggle with him still inside you.

" don’t move, baby, got let it stay deep in you. " satoru’s voice is rough, as he brings you back to being filled of him, you both moan again. he lets you move to lay on your back, kissing your neck and nose while cuddling to your chest. " so pretty, so mine. "

" i’m not yours, toru. not until… " you sigh, caressing his hair. " … you’re mine. "

" oh, my baby, the moment i slide on your pussy i knew two things — no more condoms, and that i only want you. "

" we both ain’t shit, gojo. " you remark your words earlier, satoru snicker at that.

" tough luck, baby. you might not want to be mine, but i’m all yours. it’s just a question of time. " with that, he moves you both, him laying down and you on top of him. " bet that after you ride me, you are going to want to be miss gojo, right away. "

when he move his hips up, you slowly starts to believe him. you’re fucked, truly fucked.

﹙⠀ ᭡ ࣪˖ 🍋.⠀﹚ 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰𝟯𝟬𝟬𝟳 ⠀─┈ ⭑⠀ ͏͏

[slytherheign]

YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

It was Friday Night.

Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever. 

Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.

“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.

You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark.  “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow. 

“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.

“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.

Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.

Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.

In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.

“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?

“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.

The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.

He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.

“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.

“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”

“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.

“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.

“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”

“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”

“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”

“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”

“Since when did you get a dress?!” 

“Uhh… since last week?” 

“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”

“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.

“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”

“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”

“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.

“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.

You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you. 

Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.

You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again. 

You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.

You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.

You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter. 

Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.

“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.

“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone. 

“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”

“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered. 

He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.

You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. 

You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.

All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.

But maybe he belonged with someone else.

And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?

The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.

“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”

“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?

“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”

And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?

You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.

Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.

You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.

For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.

Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”

You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking. 

After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.

“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”

“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.

“Oh my god.”

“MJ, what is it?” 

“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.

Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels. 

You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You did not expect what you saw.

The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing. 

A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.

You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”

He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.

“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”

“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”

Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.

“What about Gwen?”

His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.

“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”

His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.

“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”

“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”

After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.

“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.

“Yes, and no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”

“Pete…”

“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”

Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”

“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”

Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”

You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.

“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”

“Wait–MJ is a part of this?” 

“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”

You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?

Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.

“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”

You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.

You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.

“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.

“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.

“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.

“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.

“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”

You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.

For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.

Needless to say, the future was exciting.

If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST:  @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan

[tan1shere]

Scare You

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: not much to say except enjoy ! I hope this is good :) (it's kinda bad I'm sorry ☹) @omwtfybbbbb

Warnings: none really ! She comforts you

Masterlist

You didn't want to be here. But yet you were forced by your friends. Claiming, "You never got out of your house." - "You're a scardy cat Y/n." - "Loosen up, Y/n." So ofcourse you wanted to prove that wrong. But you were failing. Terribly. So terribly whenever a scare actor would come anywhere near you, you'd hang onto your friends arm for dear life. Was it stupid? Maybe, but you couldn't help the fact you got scared easily. Maybe it was down to childhood trauma so when stuff like this happens it triggers you. It couldn't get worse, surely.

Yup. It does.

You were walking around and for a good amount of time, you thought you were alright. No one had come up to you. Which is why this hurt really bad. One of them, a girl. Comes up behind you grabbing your shoulders briefly and making a loud growl. Your body sinks to the floor curling up into itself as you scream. Billie had faced many people with bad reactions. But not this bad. Not one she'd truly feel sorry for. Your friends tug you up. "Come on, it's fine." But it truly wasn't, you look back at the actor. Tears brimming your eyes slightly.

Her mood changes and her heart aches. She loved her job but not at that price. Sure she loved scaring people but not to the point of tears. This hurt her deeply, and all she wanted was to comfort you. But you were sadly out of sight.

Your friends continue to drag you along until one of them realizes your tears. "Ok, guys maybe we should call it quits for tonight." One of them furrows her brows. "Oh come on, Y/n needs to toughen up a bit." Their voices become distant as they argue. You couldn't take it, standing up and walking off. "Some friends." You mutter, walking along when all of a sudden you feel a hand on your shoulder again. You screech but they shh you calmingly. You turn to face them warily. "Hey its ok. It's just me from earlier." The woman says, taking off her mask. She was gorgeous.

"Oh.." you shy away. "I was going to say it wasn't my intention to scare you but- that's literally my job. I mean-" She sighs. "I just didn't mean to scare you to the point of literal tears." You blink at her. "Are you ok?" Your shoulders just shrug. "I'm so incredibly sorry-" But your tears come again. "I- I didn't even want to come here but my so called friends made me, making me feel like I was pathetic and I just wanted to prove them wrong but I didn't because I truly am pathetic, getting scared over people pretending all because of what happened when i was younger." You sob.

All the sentences were shakily said. She softens her look, going to carefully bring you into a hug. You tightly wrap your arms around her, needing that comfort right now. "They are certainly not friends. Nowhere near that title." Her hands smooth out your hair softly. Your breathing coming back to normal. "Shhh." She gently says. Your eyes close. "You're not pathetic, I promise you angel. I'm scared of alot of things too." You pull away to look at her. "Really? But it can't be anything like this? And I doubt it's silly like mine." "Water."

You stare at her for a second. "Water?" She nods. It honestly made you feel better. "Not so silly now huh?" You give her a faint smile. "You have a beautiful smile, keep it on more." Your cheeks heat up at the compliment. "Thank you for coming back to see me." She smiles, nodding. "It hurt when I saw you were crying I had to make sure you were ok." It was sweet to you. The reassuring nature of this girl was a huge comfort.

"Hey, what do you say we give those 'friends' a run for their money. Literally." She says.

"Great idea."

[answer2jeff]

break-up, make-up.

song : post break-up sex

warnings : fem!reader, porn with some plot, smut, unprotected piv, make-up sex, lip being needy, mentions of alcohol and smoking (tobacco), reader has scumbag friends, sad pathetic banging, intentional lowercase. (lip and reader are 18.)

word count: 3,707

authors note: this is only like my 2nd time writing smut.......

your abdomen felt cold pressed against the marble of your bathroom counter. pulling at the skin of your face, running your fingers through your messy hair, and picking yourself apart in the mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet. you didn't feel like yourself. you swung the cabinet open, reaching for a hard candy eyeshadow pallet, a black eye pencil so old the label had rubbed off, and a mauve-brownish lip liner.

your phone buzzed against your pocket. you groaned, dropping your products into the sink before snatching it from the depths of your jeans.

773-642-3719: party @ ashleys 2night. u coming? 2:36pm.

it must've been karina. ever since you gave her your number on your break during your waitressing shift at patsy's, she'd been trying to drag you out of the house. you couldn't blame her. mopey from your breakup, picking up as many hours as possible, spending your free time collecting coupons for shopping sprees you'd never go on to spend money you didn't have, she was sick of you ruining the atmosphere everywhere you went.

or, wherever you didn't go, more accurately.

"he's just a guy. just—go fuck someone else! who cares if he's a dick just like him. focus on the task at hand: getting laid," she told you, licking strawberry jam from the tip of her middle finger.

"i'm just gonna miss him more," you sighed, watching the clock tick as your 15 minutes of what was supposed to be relaxing free time, was going to waste.

"*** ******** is not some kind of sex god, okay? the sex was good. you can find good sex anywhere."

"whatever."

he was more than that. he was more than the sex. he was the kisses in the early mornings where you'd wake up with him in your sheets. he was the whispers of 'you're so beautiful,' and 'i love you,' whenever you doubted yourself. he was the shitty jokes and late night walks, splitting cigarettes and dabbling in gossip. he was your best friend.

but he was also the hands that slammed your bedroom door. he was also the alcohol on his breath. he was also the words that told you to 'get your shit together.' he was also the broken promises he could never keep.

but he was more than anything karina saw him as.

i'll be there :) 2:38pm.

773-642-3719: bring some1 cute with u! 2:40pm.

you stared blankly at her text.

👍 2:42pm.

bring someone with me? who the hell would i bring? daniel's working tonight. and he's not cute. well—he's not ugly, but...no. stop. just drop it. you don't need to bring a guy with you. jesus. you don't need anyone. relax.

i'm here. 12:37am.

you knocked about 3 times before a lanky, raven haired boy with puke all over his title fight t-shirt swung the door open. you looked past his shoulder to see a group of familiar faces behind him.

"please tell me that's not h—" a short blonde girl groaned before a redhead, eliza, butted in.

"there she is!" she yelled, calling karina over.

the warm glow of the living room complimented the post-punk rock that rang through the poster filled walls of ashley's house. you were met with waves from your friends. karina beamed and quickly made her way over to the front door to greet you. her chunky sandals boomed against the hardwood floor, her red solo cup nearly falling out of her hand.

"you made it!" she smiled, taking your hand and dragging you into the makeshift frat house, slamming the front door behind you. the atmosphere was uncomfortably warm. probably due to everyone sweating their asses off from drunkenly dancing and grinding on each other.

"uh, yeah—i'm kinda late. sorry."

"fashionably late," she corrected you as you followed her through dozens of other girls and into the kitchen.

you analyzed the space. you knew a couple people here, either from work or highschool, since it was the summer after senior graduation, but there were plenty of girls and guys you'd never seen in your life. for the first time in months, meeting new people was sickening. immediately reaching for the bottle of tito's to help ease your mind, eliza stopped you. she furrowed her strawberry blonde eyebrows at you, shaking her head.

"uh-uh. you're the designated driver, sweetie. we can't have you drunk, too!"

your mouth gaped open in disbelief. were you seriously dragged here just to play babysitter?

"but there's plenty else to do," karina peaked her head out of the kitchen and eyeing a couple of her friends that resided on the couch, beer bottles in hand. you couldn't help but turn your head to look, too.

"mikey's got weed," she pointed to a shirtless brunette, "and i think destiny brought some—fuckin, i don't know, xanax to cool your nerves."

you nodded, lips pulled tight in a painfully neutral expression that read 'okay' and 'fuck you i hope you break every bone in your body and live your life as a spiritless vegetable,' at the same time. your arms were crossed against your chest, your body pretty much caving in at the amount of sheer embarrassment that coursed through you.

"since you're, y'know, kinda losing it," eliza wiped the corner of her mouth where whiskey-soda had been dripping from it, pointing her finger at you. her messy red nail polish on healthy long nails taunted you.

you felt like a wad of pink chewing gum: slammed between teeth and tongue just to be spit out and drenched in spit. but you weren't useless enough to be thrown away. just stuck under a table for some gross, unsanitary bitch to pick it up again and stick it right back in her gossipy mouth. cursing yourself for being here, you stormed out of the kitchen and made your way toward the back porch.

if you left, you'd be a prude. but if you stayed and drank, kissing strangers and making up stories filled with little white lies, you'd be deemed a slut for the rest of the summer. your last choice was to stick around, being that annoying girl who smoked cigarettes outside of the party to freak people out.

and so, you did. you hung around outside, watching people come in and out. occasionally, someone would stop to ask if you were alright, if you wanted a drink, or just someone to talk to. you politely declined every time. almost like you were waiting for some other opportunity to spring up in front of you.

"hey," a voice behind you rasped.

it startled you. it was painfully familiar. so much it made your heart drop to your empty stomach. you turned yourself around, eyes met with blue orbs that stared directly into you.

there he was. lip. your lip.

except he wasn't yours. not here. not now. possibly not ever.

"oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me, gallagher."

your hands grabbed onto the wooden railing of the porch steps. hoisting yourself up, you brushed off any dirt that smeared onto your dark blue jeans. your eyes were glued to the ground as you tried to swiftly move past him the moment you could stand up.

"no, c'mon—" he pleaded, rolling his eyes and following you back into the house. he hadn't had a sip of booze. for once, his mind was completely in the clear.

eliza and karina sat on the kitchen counter, their shoulders pressed together while shared a beer bottle, possibly their 6th or 7th of the night. you seriously wondered what they even talked about. they didn't have much in common other than the fact that they both liked reeking havoc on innocent people. and you.

"did one of you fucking invite him?" you spat, stepping just a foot away from the two of them snatching the beer bottle from karina's hand, you held it tightly in your fist, your fingertips turning pink at the brute force.

"lip? yeah, i did! wait, did you guys break up, or something?" eliza laughed, twirling a red curl around her finger while she gave an obnoxious wave to lip as he stood behind you. he bit the inside of his cheek, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets and balled into enraged fists.

your jaw had been nailed to the floor at this point. karina looked down at the ground in shame. she didn't care about your 'healing' or 'getting laid.' all she cared about was stirring shit. it was such a middle school stunt for a 19 year old girl to pull. finally snapping, you slammed the beer bottle onto the ground, watching it shatter into a million pieces. clenching your teeth, you looked back up to see the disturbed expressions on your 'friends' faces. they weren't allowed to make this decision for you. you would decide if and when you were ready to act like a normal fucking person around lip.

a boyfriend wasn't the only thing you lost. you lost a friend, a piece of yourself.

hot tears pricked at your waterline. you spun back around and darted towards the front door. shoving through people, your hands grabbing onto their arms and not-so-gently moving them out of your path. you could feel lip's footsteps behind you, his pathetic whines calling out for your name; calling out for his friend ex-girlfriend.

"hey, would you just fucking talk to me? please?"

you finally stopped, taking a deep breath and letting the salty tears that streamed down your face smudge your mascara before turning to face him. the angry knit of his brows from earlier was gone. his face relaxed, a breath of relief escaping his mouth when he could finally just look at you. he took in the sight of your tears, your swollen lips, your shoulders that tensed under your jacket, the way your jaw trembled when you cried.

"i don't wanna talk," you muttered as you shook your head, "i just—i don't wanna talk here. can we go upstairs, or something?"

you stared back, half of your bottom lip barred behind your teeth, analyzing every inch of him. the way his hair that ended at the middle of his ear had grown a bit too thick, the line that formed between his chin and his lower lip when he frowned, his short eyebrows, how prominent his philtrum was, and his blue eyes that caught your attention the day you met in 10th grade chemistry. you missed the way the top row of his small teeth would beam whenever he laughed.

"yeah," lip nodded, "we don't have to be down here, alright? c'mon," he reached for your hand, tilting his head as he tried to stare into you.

you worried about forgetting the feeling of his hands gently caressing your face, rubbing your back when he held you close, twirling your hair around his fingers, when his palms would indent the plush of your thighs, or when he'd grab onto your waist when you kissed him.

there was no way you'd ever forget now.

"jesus, lip—" you huffed through open-mouthed kisses, your fingertips digging into the flesh of his shoulders. the cold wall against your warm back made you shiver once he tore your shirt off from over your head, along with the jacket he zipped down and gently slipped it off from your arms as he trailed kisses from your jawline to your collarbones.

in the most needy, starved way possible, you tugged at his cotton t-shirt. almost as if he'd read your mind, despite him being on a completely different planet, he pulled away from your mouth and peeled his grey t-shirt off with the same hands that rubbed those fucking circles against your hips the way he always did when he kissed you again.

some things just never changed.

your fingertips pressed against his bare abdomen until they made their way up to his chest. you missed seeing that little triangle tattoo that tyler gave him in the school bathroom. kissing it, tracing your fingernails around the perimeter, occasionally biting and soothing the mark with your lips.

"fuck this stupid party," he scoffed, his hand getting a hold of your chin and tilting your head back up to face him. you looked into him through your lashes, lids low with desire. the look in your eyes ruined him.

"yeah. fuck it."

you glanced at his lips and back into his eyes, just for him to smash his mouth into yours again. it was a mess of teeth and tongue while you entangled your hands in his hair.

"shit—" lip detached himself from your mouth to fill his lungs with hair that smelled like your perfume and sex.

his hands cradled your face so gently it was like you'd break if he ever dared to let go. your hands moved over the groves of his arms and up to his shoulders over and over again, the feeling of soft, supple skin never getting old.

"c'mere, pretty girl," lip breathed against your ear, his hand wrapping your neck gently.

he desperately began sucking and biting the tender skin, coming back to comfort it with pecks and blows of fast, cool air. tuffs of curly blonde hair tickled your jawline every time. his veiny hands roamed down the sides of your torso, never traveling up, until you tried removing your bra yourself. lip shook his head, removing his hands from your hips and reaching behind you to unclip the uncomfortable fabric while you clung to his shoulders for support.

"lip—" you protested, slowly growing impatient.

"i got it, baby," he whispered, kissing your shoulder before carefully slipping the straps over your shoulders and off of your body. that pet name hadn't bounced off of his tongue and rang through your ears in weeks.

once he tossed the bra to the floor, your body relaxed as lip backed away just an inch or two to admire you. he smiled, teeth and all. maybe he really did miss you. your hands rested on his shoulders, slowly backing him up towards the bed of the guest room.

funny. you swore what you and lip had was more than the sex. and it was. you weren't lying about that. but my god, the crave for his skin against yours was unbearable. flashes of your hookups projected over your head. the moans that erupted from you while you tugged on his blonde curls for dear life as he pounded into your weeping cunt—you missed all of it.

"i can't believe you even showed up here," you muttered, using the pads of your fingertips to shove lip onto the soft mattress, silk sheets feeling cold against his back. he glared at you through furrowed brows, propping himself up on his elbows. but his expression softened when he saw you unbuttoning your jeans, zipping the fly down and hastily kicking them off.

"me? you—" he let out a shaky breath, gnawing at the inside of his mouth and sitting up right, "you haven't been out of the house for days."

he stared down at the white lacy underwear you wore, fighting the urge to get up and tear them down your ass until they fell at your ankles.

"and how the hell would you know that?"

you raised your eyebrows, signaling to lip to fall back again so you could reveal the aching bulge in his pants. that same bright smile of excitement made your stomach stir as you were unbuttoning and unzipping the denim that imprisoned his cock.

"been spyin' on you a little bit," he joked, but he wasn't totally kidding. for the past week and a half, he'd been taking 'shortcuts' to get to any destination just so he could briefly stop in front of your place. just to see if you'd ever come out and coincidentally run into him. he even started going to your usual hangout spots to see if you'd turn up.

but you never did. him even going to this party was solely based on the off chance that you might've been here. possibly with a new guy. but you weren't. you were alone. just like he often was.

"how sweet," you teased, tracing the tattoo on his chest. caving into your urges, you tilted your head lower to pet it with a kiss, your eyes closed before trailing your lips back up to his own. he huffed through his nose, laughing at your gesture. it was cute. you were cute. lips hands moved down to your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the waist band of your panties. that little puddle of arousal shining through the white fabric of your thong only egged lip on. he looked into your eyes for permission, not wasting any time to help you remove them the moment you nodded your head.

letting him pull them down the plush of your thighs, you turned just enough where you could slip them past your calf's where they pooled at your feet before finally slipping off onto the floor. a delicate hand reached to pull down the fabric of his boxers, his leaking, pink tip practically making you drool the moment his cock sprung out. the heat and humidity of the room making the thick vein down the side of his length twitch just the slightest. you felt a yearning heat build up in your core as you wiggled your hips closer.

"now," you reached between your thighs to coil your fingers round lip's hardening cock, "i need you to fuck me like you haven't gotten laid in a thousand years."

"that's pretty much what it's felt like." lip mumbled so quietly you barely caught it. he looked up at you, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he used his thumb to caress your cheek.

"wait, you—you haven't been with anyone else?"

lip paused, realizing he admitted to not seeing a single other person since you broke up. it almost surprised you that you weren't the only one who was sex deprived.

"fuck would that do? bring you back?" he tried to laugh, accidentally gasping at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing past his throbbing dick. you noticed this, smiling back at him and slowly trying to position yourself perfectly.

"well, you have me now."

those words were all it took. with one swift motion, lip finally caught a grip on the fat of your hips, guiding you gently down his cock, your wetness making a makeshift lubricant.

"always so fuckin' wet for me," lip praised, smiling at the sight of how easily he filled you up to the brim of your cervix. watching your face contort from slight discomfort and into full bliss was his fucking kryptonite. you gasped, the immediate stuffed feeling hitting your stomach. lip winced at the tight sensation, already cursing under his raspy breath and whispering incoherent praises. "so—so fuckin' tigh...fu–ck" you gave him some time to adjust, propping your hands behind you so you could grind against him just right.

lip began rolling your hips back and forth, wet sounds of sex filling up the room. whimpers of "fuck, yes lip," and "just like that," only made his sexual frustration worse.

"'missed you so fuckin' much, baby. shit—you make me feel amazing. so, so fuckin' good." his hands dig deeper into your hips, making their way to your ass to squeeze and occasionally slap the flesh. you flinched with a moan, his dick hitting your gummy walls at a slightly different angle each time.

"m—fuck, missed you too, lip. you have no idea," your lungs begged for air, your tits bouncing slightly at the constant movement of your hips as you chased your high. you looked down at him, tears of arousal filling up your hooded eyes. lip marveled at the sight of your pleasure, inching closer and closer to cumming inside of you right then and there—but he had to savor this. grunting

how could he have waited this long to make amends with you? his groans felt like they practically echoed and bounced off of the walls. he needed to focus on your needs tonight. he pried between your crotchets, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing sloppy, rough circles against the bundle of nerves.

"slower, hun," you cooed, moving up and down his cock to keep his tip pounding right into your g-spot every time. the idea of staying quiet had never been this hard—but the music and shouting from downstairs was bound to cover for the two of you. lip nodded his head, slowing down his pace and gently grinding his hips into yours as his thumb remained at work.

after the few moments of pure bliss, moans and cries of lip's name coming from you that he wished would last an eternity, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. similarly, you started forcefully catching your breath as you stared up at the ceiling. your head went foggy, every word that fell out of your mouth turning into messy gibberish. lip could tell you were close, but he wasn't quite ready to give up.

"i don't think i'm gonna last any longer," lip clenched his teeth, his hand aching from prioritizing your pleasure while his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. he'd been fucked out without even finishing a single time.

"me neither—"

desperately trying to get a hold of yourself, your body gave out. your thighs began to shake, your cunt contracting. trying to muffle your shrieks, you cupped a hand over your saliva-slick mouth. your hips moved as fast as you could ever dreamed was possible, forcing you to grab onto lip's shoulder blades for support. lip could literally see his dick rolling up and down your stomach as he moaned your name, his eyes screwed shut. finally, just at the very last second, he took every bit of strength left in his body to flip you over, your back pressed against the sheets while you reached your climax. he pulled out with a groan, white ropes of sticky cum coating your lower stomach and the space right under your tits.

makeup sex was not how you envisioned this night would go. but how could you complain?

[leftmostbongo]

In the Dog House

Short story

Title: In the Dog House

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Characters (Pairings but mentions of other characters): Sandor Clegane (The Hound) and Reader

Notes: Yeah, so. Yeah, reader is the daughter of a wealthy jewler and she spends a lot of time at the palace and junk and she's been doing a lot of naughty stuff with the scary watch dog (Sandor). Enjoysies!

The night you had been dreading for days was finally upon you. A “celebration” for Sansa and Joffrey’s wedding and you and your father were expected to be there as your father was a very prolific jewelry designer and friend of the Queen. The dress that was made for you was squeezing too snug against your skin and the fabric itched under your armpits as you stared out from the table with distaste. Your father sat next to you, chatting away with a lady and her husband, likely networking as he called it. On your other side, sat your friend who had been babbling about her recent endeavors with a knight she’d been seducing. You listened, absentmindedly but soon your attention was quickly drawn to the double door that swung open and revealed the young couple. And there, sauntering in behind them, was the Hound. Your heart  quickened at the sight of him, armour clinging tightly to his broad chest. Those wide shoulders that make excellent resting places for your thighs seemed to span forever. He caught you staring and fought back a smirk as his eyes trailed over you. 

You felt heat pool in your stomach but looked away before your father could notice your skin reddening all over. He stood behind the couple, looming over them menacingly, his big arms crossed in front of him as he gazed out over the room full of people but his eyes would always return to you, watching you giggle with your friend.

The night continued far longer than you wanted it to but the drinks kept you pleasantly numb to the snobbery. Your father seemed to have made a few friends as he approached you.

“Dearest, I’m making a trip back to the shop for the night with our new friends so I won’t be in my- HIC-” He chuckled drunkenly and continued. “I won’t be in my chambers this evening. You’ll be okay without me, right?” 

“Yes, Father. I’ll be perfectly fine. A quiet night will be nice after this evening.” You lied expertly. “Wonderful, my dear! See you tomorrow!” He kissed your cheeks and stumbled off to join his new friends. Several more wealthy patrons began to exit the banquet hall, drunk and laughing and you longed to join them. You were beginning to grow sick from all the ladies showering you with questions and backhanded compliments. “And how old are you, dear? You should be marrying soon!” And “Oh such a pretty face! You’ll have such beautiful children someday soon!” You wanted to tell them where they could fuck off to but you kept a smile plastered on your face until you could finally excuse yourself. Stepping outside into the courtyard, you took a deep breath, cherishing the cool air.

“Hello, pretty girl. What are you doing out here all by yourself, hm?” A familiar gravely voice spoke from the shadows. A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth and you turned toward it. “I was hoping you’d still be around.” You replied confidently. 

“Oh, you were?” The man stepped out of the shadows and into the light, his large stature lumbering towards you, menacingly. “And why’s that, lass?” 

“I’m bored and tired of everyone. There are better things to do out here.” You replied, causing Sandor to chuckle and glance around for any potential eavesdroppers. 

“I see. Where’s Daddy tonight?” He stepped just a little closer to you, enough that you could smell the wine on his breath. You wanted a taste. 

“He’s preoccupied. All. Night. Long.” You closed the gap between the two of you, running your hands up the broad planes of his chest plate. 

“Is that so?” He took your chin between his thumb and index finger and roughly tilted your head up.

 “Yes.” You practically moaned. His dark eyes watched your lips as he spoke his next words. 

“And what does my pretty girl have in mind, hmm?” He rumbled, his hand dropping to your throat and moving his other hand to wrap around your waist. “Speak up.” He ordered. 

“I want you to fuck me.” You whined as you held onto his massive forearm with both hands. You could feel your own wetness start to dribble down your thighs.

“Mmmmm.” He hummed as he pushed you back behind a large column, safe from onlookers. You had to stop yourself from making any more noise as he roughly pressed his thigh against your cunt. His hand remained snug around your throat, fingers squeezing just enough to make you squirm. 

“Tell me again, princess. Tell me what you want.” You loved it when he was like this. True, he was definitely drunk but Gods, it drives you crazy when he wants you this bad. He’s usually a non-verbal lover but when he drank, he told you what he wanted, how he wanted it and praised your every move. It was, for lack of better terms, fucking hot. “I want your big cock to fuck me absolutely senseless.” You whispered, grinding yourself against his thigh. With little time to even think, he crashed his lips on yours. It was feral, all tongue and teeth and claw. Your hips moved on their own against his muscular thigh, seeking desperately for friction. It was short-lived as he drew back with your lip between his teeth and released it, making a popping sound into your mouth. “Get your perfect ass down to my quarters. Right now and wait for me. I’ll give you what you need, little one.” He growled against your lips. He released your body from the wall he had you pinned against, and you adjusted your dress. You knew what he meant and your pussy throbbed. He was the King’s Guard so he couldn’t just up and leave. There were things that had to be done first. But when those things were done, he would come to his chamber and fuck you like the hound that he was. Rough and feverish. Not like the other boys who treated you like some fragile little doll. Sandor left bruises, marked you, made you bleed sometimes but you loved the ache that lasted for days. It made you think of him when he wasn’t there and reminded you of the dirty things you do together. You had to wear dresses with high necklines nowadays but it was worth it. “Do hurry.” You whispered, reaching out and touching his fingers at his side. He used to jerk away from you when you were affectionate like this but this time, he allowed your soft, little fingers to graze against the rough calloused pads of his massive hand. He surprised you by gingerly grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles. A smirk spread over his face as he watched the blush heat up your cheeks once again. “Get moving.” He turned you around and popped you on the ass, causing you to yelp. He chuckled and made his way back into the banquet hall. You were very fortunate to find that you didn’t run into a single person on your way, which was always preferred for Sandor. Your father was not a fan of the Hound and you were certain he wouldn’t approve of his cock inside of his daughter. But that clearly was a small bump in your path as you quietly pulled the large door open to his room. It was small but the bed was big enough to fit his giant frame. A small shelf next to the door held a variety of things. Books that you gave him to read together, a couple daggers of varying sizes and a large bottle of wine sat on top. 

You had little time to continue looking around as the door opened and Sandor ducked inside. He had already removed his gloves and shoulder guards and proceeded to toss them down on the floor somewhere in the corner. His cold gaze fixed on you as he continued unlacing more of his armor.

“Take that off.” He ordered, gesturing to your dress. You obeyed him eagerly, tugging at the ties and pulling the fabric off of your body. “Seven hells.” He growled as you revealed your entirely naked form with your dress pooled around your ankles. “You were walking around all night with your pretty little cunt bare as a babe just to fucking do this to me?” He pulled off his thigh guards which allowed you to catch a glimpse of the outline of his cock, hard and aching in his pants. 

“Yes.” You answered, your mouth watering at the sight of him as he shed the last scraps of metal. “Naughty girl.” He rasped, taking off his belt and tossing it in the other direction. He reached over and took the wine off of the shelf and opened the corked bottle with his teeth. “Come here.” He said, after spitting out the cork and taking a huge swig of the alcohol. You shivered with a mixture of anticipation and the cool air that was raising goosebumps on your skin, but you kicked off your shoes and obeyed his command. Swaying your hips as you approached him innocently, you ran your hand down the length of his muscular thigh. He took in a sharp breath through his nose and pressed the rim of the bottle against your lips. He tilted the bottle up so you could sip some of the liquid while your hand trailed underneath his shirt to feel his strong stomach. He pulled the bottle away from your lips after you had taken what you wanted and attacked your mouth, his tongue tasting yours. You wrapped your arms around his thick neck, trying to keep your balance while he nipped and teased. He pulled back and trickled the dark liquid over your chest. Bending at the torso, he roughly sucked your nipple into his mouth. You panted desperately, holding his head to your chest, watching closely as he sloppily licked the liquid off of your breasts. 

His lips began to travel up to your collarbones, nipping and biting until he reached your ear. His tongue trailed heavily over the shell of it, “On your knees.” He commanded, an edge in his voice that had you down on the floor faster than he could get the last word out. Finally, he opened his pants and pulled out his mighty cock. You marveled at it for a moment, but Sandor’s low chuckle brought you back to reality. 

“My pretty princess loves this cock, hmm?” He reached down and took the entire bottom half of your face in his massive hand. You felt your pussy drip onto the floor and you whined impatiently. 

“I know you do, pretty girl. Go on, take it.” He squeezed your jaw and pulled you forward. With a muffled moan, you gratefully took as much of his cock into your mouth as you could. Your hands trailed up to drag his pants down to his ankles so you could feel his strong, fury thighs.

“Fuck, good girl.” He groaned. He quickly repositioned his hands to comb your hair to the back of your head, keeping it out of your face. Now he was able to guide your head, pushing and pulling you in a steady rhythm. You adjusted quickly and without warning, he began to fuck your face. “Been waiting for this all night… FUCK missed your sweet mouth, pretty girl.” The words were falling from his lips as his hips bucked into your mouth. You clawed at his thighs, leaving crescent shaped cuts but he didn’t seem to notice. Tears started streaming down your face and stringy saliva dribbled down your chin while you held your throat open for him. Your head was swimming from the wine and the lack of oxygen as he held you down to the hilt for a couple seconds. ‘MMMmmmmm good girl.” He growled and released you right as your vision began to blur and you heaved in a deep breath. He pulled you up by your hair, making you moan then he shoved two fingers into your mouth. “Suck.” Came his command. Your lips stretched around the large digits and worked your tongue between them, slurping and sucking lewdly. With his lips parted, he watched you intently. You couldn’t help but buck your hips impatiently and moan. He cursed and wrapped his arm around you, lifting you up and hooking your legs around his waist with his free hand. You could feel his length against your wet pussy just beckoning for you to slip it inside. But he carried you over to his bed and flopped you down roughly onto the blankets. You almost protested but stopped yourself as you watched him drop to his knees and settle quickly between your thighs. His wet fingers easily slid into your drenched pussy, curling up and sending delicious sparks up and down your spine. He sucked and bit the soft flesh of your thighs while his fingers worked inside of you, pulling sobs and yelps from your lips and causing your body to jerk and squirm. “Please, Sandor…” You begged, desperately fisting the blanket beneath you. 

“What is it, princess?” He grinned almost evilly. “Please… give me your mouth…” You almost sobbed as your pussy contracted and pulsed around his fingers, which slowed inside of you. “Mmmm” He hummed, his lips against your left upper thigh, so close but still so far. “Is this not enough of my mouth, little one?” He teased. You could feel your clit throbbing, begging for stimulation and you sobbed harder. “Pleeease please, I want your mouth on my pussy, please! I want your tongue to- FUCK” He cut you off by sucking your clit roughly and pumping his fingers steadily in and out of your greedy cunt. Stars swirled behind your squeezed eyelids, while your hands fisted the back of his head as he feasted on you. “Please don’t stop!” You sobbed out loudly, your thighs quaking around his head. He quickened the pace, filling the room with lewd squelching sounds and your combined groaning. His tongue flicked and rolled over your clit frantically, in perfect sync with his thick fingers bumping the sweet spot inside of you. “Cum for me, princess.” He ordered against your flesh. The next pump of his hand and the slurping of his lips against your clit sent you hurtling over the edge and your first orgasm of the night washed over your body. Your hips lifted off of the bed, but Sandors strong arms roughly held your pelvis to his face as he ravenously licked and sucked at your cunt. Your lungs released the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you shook and moaned, riding out your high on the older man's face. He pulled away with an animalistic growl, “That’s my good girl. You taste so fucking good, princess.” All you could do was gulp in air and shake uncontrollably. He moved above you, removing his shirt and tossing it aside. “Does my pretty girl want me to fuck her now?” He asked, bending at the torso to drag his teeth over your hips and stomach. “Yes! Please fuck me now!” You sobbed, pulled out of your orgasm haze by a sharp nip to the skin just below your breast. “Gods, I love it when you beg for me!” He snarled and straightened at the waist to spread your legs wider for him. Without warning, he plunged his cock inside of you to the hilt.  You screamed but it was immediately muffled by the large palm of his hand. You held onto his forearm with both hands, relishing the rough contact. “Shhh princess, you don’t want your daddy to come looking for you in the dog’s house.” He grunted above you. But his hips began to roll, steady and deep, filling you up every time. It felt like you were being cracked in half as you whimpered, pain and pleasure jolting across your nerve endings causing your eyes to roll back in their sockets. “Mmmm I know, pretty girl. Fuck, you feel so fucking good too. Such a perfect little pussy for me.” The praises kept spilling from his mouth and you moaned under his heavy hand, basking in his words while your pussy began to drip around his cock. The hand clamped over your mouth slid down to wrap around your throat while the other gripped your thigh so hard you knew there would be bruises. You choked on another scream as he brutally fucked you, hips slapping loudly against the backs of your thighs.  

“YES yes yes yes!” You croaked as you held onto his forearm. 

“My pretty princess loves taking cock from her big scary dog doesn’t she?!” He rumbled and attacked your neck, sucking deep red and purple marks into your skin.

“YES!!! Yes! Gods I love it! I love it!“ You sobbed, back arching into him as he bit down just above your collarbone, then licked the area lovingly. “That’s right… Ughh fuck. Fucking turn around.” He ordered, backing up and allowing you to move on all fours. You looked back at him over your shoulder and wiggled your ass. He slapped both hands on the globes of your cheeks and cursed when you let out a sharp gasp. “This perfect little ass…” He smoothed his hands over it, soothing the sting. He cracked his hand over one cheek and then the other. “I love that shade of red on this perfect little ass.” He chuckled maniacally, as your moaning got louder the harder he slapped your now burning bum. Just as the tears began to stream down your face and you felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, he plunged his heated cock back inside your soaking wet cunt. Your ass was throbbing from the beating and the wiry hairs adorning his abdomen and pubic area were scraping roughly against your stinging flesh. He began fucking you steady and rough, using your wide hips as handles while you pushed back to meet his thrusts. “Tell me who owns this sweet little cunt?” He grunted, reaching out to grab a fistful of your hair and pulled you up against his chest so he could keep talking in your ear. “Yours.. It’s yours! Fuck, Sandor! Please don’t stop!” You knew you sounded like a mewling whore but you didn’t care at that moment. This felt different to you. More desperate and passionate than usual and you wanted so much more of it. “Yes, that’s right. My good girl. Mine. All mine.” He wrapped his hand around your neck and squeezed, your moaning now a silent O accompanied by pitiful whimpering. But this allowed you to rest your head on his shoulder while his other hand slid down and began rubbing rough circles against your clit. 

“Only I make you feel this fucking good, sweet girl.” He rasped in your ear. “You want the Hound to make you cum, pretty girl? Tell me.” He moaned and you knew he was close too. 

“Yes! Please give it to me! Please make me cum on your cock, Sandor!!” You sobbed as best you could with his hand cutting off your air. 

He snarled and shoved your head into the bed, his fingers digging deliciously into your scalp. The next crack of his hips against your ass nearly made you shriek but you bit your lip as he began pistoning in and out of you. “Good girl, take it so good. My little princess loves getting fucked by her mean old dog, hmm? You gonna cum on this cock, princess?” He panted. Gods, you loved it when he got desperate for you.“Uuuughh Fuck Sandor!! Yes YES YES fuck YES!! I love your cock so much!! Fucking cum inside me!! Fill me up!!” You screamed and sobbed into the room as he reached under you again to rub your clit. 

“Yes, fucking take all of it. Yes, GOD’S-“ He bit down on your shoulder hard and you felt the warmth of his seed filling you up right before your vision blurred and your pussy contracted around him. You couldn’t even hear for several moments as you sobbed underneath him. 

“Yeeesss, I know, good girl. You did so good for me, princess.” He panted against your skin where he bit you. Then, he started raining kisses all over your shoulders and upper back. His sudden display of softness startled you but you didn’t dare say anything. This was new but much welcomed treatment from the stoney man. He stood up and pulled his softening length from inside you with a grunt, leaving you feeling empty. “Sandor?” Your voice sounded smaller than you intended as you turned to him. 

He picked up his dirty shirt from the corner to wipe himself off and returned to you with the article. “Hm?” He helped you to clean up as well, dragging the fabric over your oversensitive pussy to collect the mixture of fluids dribbling out of you. “Please let me stay here with you tonight?” You tried. He didn’t look up from his task. “We talked about this, pretty girl. You don’t want to get caught with me.” He finished up and tossed the article back down on the floor. 

“Please? Just this once…” You begged. You felt like you sounded like a little kid and winced as he shook his head and looked away from you.

"I don’t want anyone to treat you differently. You’re a la-”

“Don’t you call me that.” You stopped him before he could call you a lady. “You are no Ser and I am no Lady. You are the Hound and I am your Princess. I don’t fucking care anymore about what people think of that. I will fuck whoever I damn well please.” 

He chuckled low in his throat and pinned you back down to the bed and kissed your forehead, then your nose. “Such a feisty little one.” 

“Sandor…” You called his name again. His eyes searched your face, as if looking for the answer to his predicament. “I want to be with you…” You attempted one last time.

He took a defeated breath in through his nose and lowered his face into the crook of your neck. “Alright, princess.” 

[novahreign]

This made me nervous posting this. I’m not the best writer but I do try and I don’t have any fancy pictures but I hope that you enjoy it, just the same.🫣

“Kendra, Wait!” Tyler rushed behind her friend who sped past patrons in a restaurant to rush to the bathroom. The bride to-be, got lost between waiters and guests who stood around mingling. Tyler sidestepped quickly to avoid knocking into a waiter coming with a tray full of hors d’oeuvres that she completely missed the guy coming on her left, bumping into him, spilling red wine on herself and his white button up shirt.

“Oh my goodness. I am so sorry, I was trying to avoid hitting them-

“Hey.”

“And I wasn’t looking where I was going. I didn’t even see you.”

“It’s o-“

“Now your shirt is ruined!”

“Hey. Hey.” Rough, large hands took hold of shakey hands-steadying them. “It’s okay. It’s just a shirt, it’s all good. He gently moved her toward him” come this way.”

“I got it ma’am.” One of the waiters said. She moved aside so he can clean her mess. “I’m sorry about that.”

“You’re fine ma’am. It happens quite often.” He chuckled. She gave an embarrassed smile and turned her attention to the man whose shirt she messed up. Her head jerked back, wow. Her eyes scanned over his features. He was handsome.

“Umm…Can I buy you a drink, you know, to make up for this?” She motioned to his shirt

Terry was about to answer but her friend came up to her, getting her attention.

“Ty, It’s not looking good in there, She needs you!”

“Okay, uh, don’t go anywhere, I still owe you that drink!”

She followed behind Marcy and found Kendra slumped over the bathroom toilet.

“I think we may have pregamed too hard.” Shonda, the matron of honor said. Tyler had to agree.

“Guys, why’d you let me drink like this Ughh, I’m never drinking againnn” Kendra’s words slurred” Kendra let out some more, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom. They were supposed to be celebrating Kendra’s last two nights as a “not so single, single” and now Tyler was trying not to inhale the smell of alcohol mixed with Cajun seafood. The bathroom smelled vile.

“Marcus is going to be mad at me.” Kendra whine, throw up sliding down her chin.

“No, he’s not. “ Tyler wiped her face with a wet paper towel before throwing it on the toilet”Because, tomorrow you will detox and it’ll all be fine.” She used her foot to flush,” Come on, y’all, I think we should call it a night.”

As the girls walked out the restaurant. Tyler spotted the guy, she wasted a drink on at the bar. “Hey,go ahead, I’ll be right there.” She walked over to him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around with a confused look on his face.

“Hi, I’m Tyler.” She stretched her hand out

He looked her up and down before taking her hand in his. “Terry.”

“Nice to meet you, Terry. Hey, look. I wanted to apologize about this. I’m sorry.” She motioned to his shirt. “What are you drinking? I can buy you another drink, you know to make up for spilling your wine.”

He tip the almost empty glass toward her “Whiskey.”

Tyler turned her nose up. “Ew, but okay.”

“You judging my drink choice?

She titled her head, “ I am, whiskey is plain nasty.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

“For people with rotten taste buds,”

He laughed out loud. “Rotten taste buds, really?”

“Excuse me.” She got the bartender’s attention “Hi……” she began rattling off his drink order. Terry took that time to take her in while sipping on his drink some more. She was beautiful, the orange dress complimented her dark skin. The dress clinging to her curves wasn’t bad sight either.

“I hope that you’re impressed by what you see, you’re staring pretty hard.” Terry met her eyes, noticing the teasing glint. Terry lifted an eyebrow.

“Oh, I am.”

She bit back a smile. “Well I’m glad. Here’s your drink. Again, I’m sorry but I hope you enjoy.” She patted his back before walking towards the double doors leading to the busy New Orleans Street. Terry tossed his drink back, throw a tip on the counter before coming up behind her.

“Hey, Tyler. Wait up.” He grabbed her wrist.

She jumped at feeling a hand on her, he apologize for scaring her. “What, two drinks not enough?” She smiled sheepishly

“Ha. Funny.” She laughed then looked at him expectantly. He sighed “You in New Orleans long?” She searched his face, deciding on whether or not she should share that information.

Oh, what the hell! It isn’t like she was going to see him again.

“I’ll be in town for a little while. I’m here for my friend’s wedding, why?”

“You think she’d mind, if you broke away from the group.”

“Why would I do that?” She gave him a knowing smile.

“Uh…” Tyler picked up on his nervousness and could tell that he wasn’t used to putting himself out there, she decided to help him out.

“Look, give me your phone.” He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and handed it to her.

She put her clutch under her arm and typed something before holding the phone up to her face to take a selfie. She showed him the picture and he chuckled. “Text me when you wake up and we can meet back her for breakfast. Sound good?.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

She smiled “Okay, well, then. I’ll see you tomorrow” she winked at him “Goodnight Terry.”

“Goodnight Tyler.”

He watched her walk into the crowd before looking down her contact photo. He tapped his phone against his palm. Yeah, he was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.

[spectersgirl]

Harvey Specter forgets your anniversary 🙉

I considered taking this in a slightly angsty route but decided I felt like keeping it light so you get this hehe

also I have no idea what to title this so the title is now...

Anniversary

Harvey Specter x Reader

-------

The sun hung low over the New York skyline as Harvey paced the floor in his office, the weight of the day's workload pressing down on him. The day, however, was an important one that he couldn't afford to forget. It was the two-year anniversary of the day he started dating you, the love of his life, and he'd forgotten. In the whirlwind of cases and negotiations, the date had completely slipped his mind. He glanced at the clock, a sinking feeling knotting in his stomach as he realized his mistake.

"Fuck." He muttered, debating what he could possibly pull off at such a late hour.

He considered every possibility on his own before admitting his own defeat and calling in his last resort, his best secret weapon.

"Donna? Can you come in here for a minute?"

Donna appeared quickly in his doorway.

"What's up?" She asked, noting the look of stress on his features.

Harvey sighed, his frustration with himself evident. "Today is my anniversary with Y/N and I completely spaced. I need to do something special, and I need it to be perfect."

Donna smirked softly, having already had the inkling that he'd forgotten. She loved being right.

"Well then it's a good thing that I already made reservations at the restaurant you took her to on your first date and called Ray to have you picked up in about-" She checked the time. "Forty-five minutes to go sweep your girl off her feet. Don't worry, I already called her and told her you weren't out of your meeting in time to call yourself but you wanted to warn her to be ready when you arrived. Oh, and the necklace you told me to order her for Christmas arrived a week ago, so you can give her that too. Top desk drawer."

Relief flooded Harvey's system, never having been so thankful for his secretary in his life.

"Oh my god, you're a lifesaver. I don't know how to thank you"

"Just leave the credit card on my desk in the morning and I'll thank myself on your behalf." Donna said with a bright smile.

"Done. I owe you the whole damn store for pulling this off. Seriously, thank you."

"Of course, Harvey. Anything I can do to see my friends happy, I'm glad to do it."

An hour later, Harvey was knocking on the door to your apartment, a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers you'd ever seen in his hands.

You were dressed in a floor-length, emerald-colored silk gown that Harvey couldn't take his eyes off of when you'd first tried it on, and again now as he stood in front of you in the doorway.

"You look so beautiful, Y/N. Happy anniversary, my love." Harvey said after a brief moment of collecting himself from the sight of you.

You smiled shyly and thanked him, the heat rushing to your cheeks. You were never the greatest at accepting a compliment, something you had learned to work on since meeting Harvey.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind himself before placing a gentle hand on your hip and one on the side of your cheek, kissing you with a passion and care that you'd never experienced with any other man until Harvey.

He pulled away after a few moments, asking if you were ready to head out, and you nodded, grabbing your clutch and taking his hand as he led you out the door.

Soft music filled the air as he led you to a beautifully set table, adorned with more flowers and candlelight. Your eyes widened in surprise, a smile on your lips as Harvey pulled out your chair, his charm and charisma in full force.

The dinner was phenomenal, and you enjoyed your time talking and laughing with Harvey about any and everything. You hadn't seen much of him over the last few weeks, as he had a huge trial going on and from what you understood, it was one of the harder cases he'd ever had. You could tell he was enjoying the night off just as much as you enjoyed him being off.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" You exclaimed, pulling a small black box from your handbag with a bow on top and handing it to Harvey. Inside was a pair of cufflinks, his initials engraved in the gold. He smiled the biggest smile you'd seen from him as he thanked you. He pulled a box of his own from his jacket pocket, presenting it to you. Tears sprang from your eyes immediately when you saw the necklace, knowing full well how much Cartier cost.

"Harvey, I can't accept this! This was way too much."

"Y/N, every penny I spend on you is well worth it. You deserve to have every beautiful thing you can dream of because you're the most important person in my life."

Your heart swelled, and you couldn't help but reach across the table to kiss him.

"Thank you." You whispered, gratitude for him shining in your eyes.

Later that night, he took you back to his condo where you continued the night together, ending up sleepily snuggled by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in Harvey's hand and red wine in yours.

"Remind me to text Donna tomorrow morning and thank her." You said drowsily.

"For what?" Harvey asked, looking down at you.

"For planning our dinner."

Harvey's mouth sat open, shocked.

"Wh- how did you know?"

"I didn't for sure until just now," You said "But I got to thinking, any other time you've planned something you tease me for a week beforehand about how good of a boyfriend you are, you didn't this time and I know you've been working hard so really, it only made sense."

Harvey's heart dropped, knowing he was caught.

"Baby, I'm so sorry." He said, anxiety rising in his throat.

"I'm not upset, don't worry." You said, sitting up now. "I'm just happy you took the time to be with me tonight." You said, reaching out to caress his cheek.

"I'm really trying to work on prioritizing us over work, but this case really took over everything. I promise I won't forget next year and let Donna do all my planning. I'm sorry if I disappointed you."

"You didn't disappoint me Harvey. We could've spent the whole night here doing nothing and I still would've been happy, I just love spending time with you."

Harvey smirked before replying.

"I'll keep that in mind for next year"

[kdogreads]

Richie Jerimovich HCs that just have to come out of my brain include:

Mostly SFW but a pinch of steamy stuff bc of who I am as a person so MDNI 🤪🥵

He’s afraid to get married again

He thinks something about that paper and ring will make him slip back into his old ways and he’ll let you down just like he did Tiff. So you agreed early on that you wouldn’t get married.

Socially, you start using his last name after a couple of years. No one really questions you, either. Christmas cards are signed The Jerimovich Family; take out orders are usually placed under his last name; all of your socials have Jerimovich tacked on the end; when you inevitably have a baby or two, they take his last name and you use it too when they start school. Anyone who’s been around a while knows you aren’t married, but anyone new just assumed you are.

“Should you—do I call you my partner? Like, girlfriend sounds like we’re 16 or some shit. Maybe just my—my girl? Nah, that’s bad, too,” He stresses over the title, like it really matters all that much.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter to me,” You wrap your arms lovingly around his neck, “Pretty much everyone thinks I’m your wife anyway, so.”

“My pretty little pretend wife, huh? I like that.”

He wants more babies with you

Richie loves being a dad. He’s loved watching Eva thrive and every stage she grows into and out of, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the squishy baby phase.

He’s a sucker for the cute onesies that say silly things or big teddy bear costumes they can toddle around in. He’s so attentive and preset and it makes you swoon.

“Hey Richie, I, uh, I was thinking about asking you something,” You start hesitantly, not sure where his mind will be on this, “And it’s totally fine if you say no or not yet or—“

“Out with it. You’re scarin’ me, baby,” He gently presses his warm palms to your cheeks, “What’s going’ on?”

“Well, just—what do you think about having a baby?” You speak as clearly as you can.

“A baby?” You can’t read his face and it makes your heart race.

You simply nod, holding in your anxiety. Before you can react, Richie scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder.

“Richie! What are you doing?” You screech, playfully swatting at his toned back.

“I’m putting a baby in you right now, sweetheart,” He smacks your behind sharply.

You do talk it over a little bit before you really start trying, but it is entirely possible that Richie did put a baby in your just then.

He’s so much more romantic than you thought he’d be

He’ll get you flowers on a random Tuesday because “They made me think of you, baby.”

And surprise with a delicious homemade dinner when he is somehow able to get home before you.

Or taking you to a cool new spot on his rare night off, having been invited by a local friend to try their new menu. He’s the classic, sticky sweet date that opens your car door for you and helps you with your coat and pulls out your chair for you to sit. Swoon.

If you have a little one, he’ll happily wear them strapped to his chest while you wonder through Target or a farmer’s market or museum. Dad Richie is the gooiest sweet partner, comfortably calming a crying baby or keeping them entertained so you can eat your meal or talk to friends.

He compliments you on everything

Like when you do the laundry he’ll say, “Damn, baby! How do you always fold my shirts so perfect?”

Or when you clean the house while he’s at work, “You keep a beautiful home, sweetheart. Can’t believe you let a dog like me in here.”

He kinda likes traditional gender roles (like you cleaning and cooking while he’s at work), but only so that he can brag about how good you are to him. Someone will compliment his suit and he’ll say, “My girl keeps me well-dressed.”

Or posting a cozy picture of the two of you to his 36 Instagram followers with the caption, “Before she got here this place was just an apartment but now it’s our home. Love you baby! #bigfanofher”

He loves how comfortable you are with Eva

Dating when you’re a parent can be nerve-wracking, but Richie knew right away you’d be an amazing person to be around his baby. You’ve never treated her like a step-child, but loved her like your own from the moment you met.

He gets so emotional when he sees you interacting with her so sweetly, like when Eva needs help with homework or asks you to help her with her hair. He’s just obsessed with his girls 🥹

This man gives and gives

He’s such a giver in all aspects of his life: carrying in all the groceries, starting the coffee in the morning, brushing the snow off your car so you don’t have to.

As far as the sex goes, this man loves making you squirm and whine below him, buries his face in you whenever he can, and pulls orgasms out of you like there’s no tomorrow, leaving you a whining, whimpering mess by the time he’s done 🥵

Sweet Richie just loves loving you and giving you everything he can 🫶❤️

[swansworth]

The Handsome Stranger

Rhysand x Priestess!Reader

Summary: You had fallen for the High Lord, it was inevitable. However, he was clearly in love with another, and now he had come to ask you the one question you had dreaded to hear. 

Warnings: brief mention of abuse, mild angst with a happy ending, a big misunderstanding, believed-to-be unrequited feelings, friends-to-lovers

Word Count: 3079

Author Notes: This was inspired by one of my favorite television series, The Vicar of Dibley. The show is much more comedic than this story is, but it still helped me formulate this. The story title is borrowed from the episode that inspired this. Some of the dialogue towards the end is as well, and some of it has been re-worded to fit ACOTAR more seamlessly. Special thanks to @azsazz​ for encouraging me to write this. 

Not many ventured to the temple, too afraid of what peace they would disturb. It was a benefit in your mind; it meant that you could read and take care of your daily duties without anyone bothering you. Usually your days were spent in a comfortable quiet, though it appeared today would not be such a day. 

“Hello?” A voice like velvet asked, causing you to sigh. You had just sat down to start the next chapter in the book you’d been reading and had really hoped to avoid dealing with anyone. You closed your book and moved to the sanctuary, doing your best to smile and give off an air of warmth and kindness. The smile on your face faltered when you noticed a beautiful fae standing before the altar, his blue-black hair tousled and his eyes closed in what appeared to be prayer. 

Part of you wondered whether you should leave him to his privacy but then he asked, “Are you one of the priestesses here?” He’d noticed you. You opened your mouth to respond then abruptly shut it when his eyes opened and orbs that were almost violet in color met yours. “Well?” 

His tone implied that he was annoyed and you wondered whether it was really worth your time to get involved with him. Unfortunately, it was your duty as a priestess to aid any who came to the temple asking for assistance. “Yes I am,” you answered at last, “Was there something I could help you with?” 

“We’ll see.” Oh, you did not like the arrogance that rolled off of this male. The two of you stared at one another in an unspoken challenge to see who would speak next. “Shall I get to the point?”

“If you’d like me to assist you, I think that would be wise.” A look of amusement flickered across his handsome face and you did your best to keep your own expression neutral as he continued to stare at you. 

“You’re very direct.” His statement left you unsure; was it meant to be an insult or a compliment? Regardless, you still held his gaze, waiting for him to state his reason for being at the temple in the first place. The silence stretched on, but you refused to be the first to break it. 

Stubborn too, I see. I could use that.  

The stranger’s voice crawled its way through your mind and your eyes widened. How had he done that? All at once you felt a stab of fear. He was a daemati; he could tear your mind apart with ease if you weren’t careful. 

Clever girl.  

It was almost taunting you, the voice, but you held firm, kept your gaze fixed on the handsome stranger. There was only one being in the Night Court who this could possibly be, and though you knew decorum instructed you to at least bow your head, you did no such thing. “Lord Rhysand,” you said, “What did you need assistance with?” 

“So it’s lord now is it?” He sounded almost amused and your shoulders sagged in relief as his expression softened. “I have a friend in need of sanctuary. They were badly hurt by their former lover and have nowhere to go. I would offer them a room with me, but they were adamant that they did not want my assistance.” 

There were rooms in the temple for requests such as these; cozy, private chambers that offered a sense of safety and peace while the people residing in them healed. The smallest room was unoccupied and had a fresh change of linens on the bed. “We have a room they could stay in for a time, if you feel they would be open to that.” 

Rhysand’s answering smiling was blinding and left you feeling almost breathless. He truly was incredibly handsome. No wonder all the other priestesses swooned whenever his name was mentioned. “I’ll bring them here at once. Thank you, priestess.” 

You gave your name and watched as that smile grew impossibly brighter. He repeated it back to you and your heart pounded in your chest at the way your name fell from his lips. It was almost a purr, soft and sensual. ‘Mother preserve me.’ It was a thought that you had often, a silent mental prayer in an effort to keep yourself calm. Rhysand’s smile turned into an amused grin as he turned to take his leave and you knew that he had heard it. Blasted daemati. 

═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══

You had believed that once Rhysand’s friend had settled, the High Lord would go back to his daily duties, whatever those were. Oh, how mistaken you were.

Rhys’s presence was a constant, nearly daily, thing.

At first, it had been to ensure that his friend truly was comfortable and safe. You couldn’t help but admire that unwavering loyalty. There were many stories and rumors about Rhysand, but the gentle smile he wore when he spoke to his comrade made you wonder how much truth lay within them.

It turned, quicker than you could have anticipated, into social visits. He came less and less for his friend and more and more for you. In the course of a few months, the two of you had formed a budding friendship and you could admit that the smile that tugged at your lips whenever he entered the temple was genuine and warm, full of the growing affection you held for him.

You hoped that the affectionate look you saw in his eyes was just as sincere.

Part of you also hoped that what you interpreted as flirtation truly was. You couldn’t speak for Rhysand, but you knew that your feelings for him had shifted to romantic rather than platonic. It was foolish, you knew, to hope that the High Lord of the Night Court would fall for a priestess such as yourself. And yet your heart raced wildly each time he stepped into the sanctuary, looked at you with those intense violet eyes, and asked with a grin, “Miss me, darling?”

“Always,” you replied easily.

As his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close so he could converse with you about everything and anything, you sighed in content. In those moments, everything was perfect and right with the world.

That perfection ended when you saw Rhysand walking arm-in-arm with a beautiful, blonde, high fae.

You didn’t leave the temple often, but you had learned that it was Rhys’s birthday in a few weeks and you were out looking for materials to make him something. As a High Lord, you suspected that there wasn’t much you could buy him that he would need or want, and truthfully, you didn’t have much money to buy gifts with. So, you had settled on making him a token; something small he could keep with him for luck and protection. That was when you saw them.

The blonde with him was as beautiful as the goddess that you served. Grace rolled off of her in waves and you felt your knees tremble at the sight of her. She had eyes that reminded you of honey, a deep rich amber that was warm, but still intense. Everything about her was perfection; she was exactly the sort of fae someone of Rhys’s standing would be expected to be with. Your heart sank. You had always known it was foolish to hope and dream, but secluded in your temple, it was easy to imagine. Facing reality, seeing how you paled in comparison, hurt more than you would have ever thought possible.

“You’re a moron, Rhys. It’s a good thing I like you so much,” the blonde teased.

“Thanks Mor, I love you too.” Rhys laughed as he spoke and you watched as the blonde playfully jabbed him in the side with her elbow. You slipped away then, not able to see or hear anymore.

He was a High Lord. You were a priestess. It had been nothing more than a dream, and the dawn had finally come.

═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══

“Hello?” An all too familiar voice called out from the sanctuary. You cussed under your breath at the sound of it. Seeing Rhysand again was inevitable but you had hoped that you’d have more time to process and heal before having to engage with him. Though you had tried to fight it, you had fallen helplessly in love with him. Each smile, each gentle touch and warm utterance of your name had bewitched you. Seeing Rhysand meant facing your heartbreak head-on, and you weren’t sure you were ready for that. 

You heard him call your name and swallowed. There was no way you would be able to avoid him forever and perhaps dealing with the issue now would be wiser. Yes, putting it off wouldn’t solve anything. You took a deep breath, lifted your head and headed out into the sanctuary. 

“Lord Rhysand, how are you?” How you had managed to form words when he was standing there looking as handsome as he had the day you met, you had no idea. 

“So it’s lord now, is it?” You didn’t meet his gaze even though you could feel the weight of his on your face, trying to make out your expression. There was a faint poking at your mind, but you kept your walls in place. If he saw the swirling emotions warring within you he would certainly reject you entirely. Rejection would be worse than ignorance. 

“I suppose I may as well come straight out with it?” He formed it as a question, encouraging you to answer him. You turned your head to look at him and gave him a nod, a silent urgence to continue. His brow creased in what almost looked like worry. “I’ve thought about it quite a lot, talked about it a lot. And I came here to ask you a rather important question.” 

“Well, go on then,” you said. 

“Perhaps, we could find somewhere a bit more secluded? I hadn’t intended on asking you in the middle of the sanctuary.” 

“I don’t see why here isn’t as good a place as any.” You could have sworn that you saw his eye twitch as he stared at you. His hands clenched and unclenched by his sides and you could tell that he was trying to stay calm. He let out a breath and refocused his gaze on your face. 

“Will you marry me?” Damn. You had suspected that he and the mysterious blonde — Morrigan you learned her name was — were close, intimate even, but you hadn’t realized how close. It was your duty, as a priestess, to assist in mating and marriage ceremonies, you had officiated nearly a hundred. This, however, was one ceremony you were uncertain of. 

You stared up at Rhysand, looked deep into his violet eyes and saw the almost pleading expression hidden in their depths. He looked hopeful and eager and you knew that no matter how much it would hurt you to do as he asked, you would. You would because you loved him and his happiness was ultimately what you wished for him, more than anything. With a sigh you replied, “Well, yes of course. I’d be delighted to.” 

The smile that broke out across Rhysand’s face was so radiant that you felt as if you were staring directly at the sun. ‘If only I could make him so happy.’ The thought flickered through your mind and you did your best to squash it down. “That’s wonderful news!” He took a step toward you as if to hug you and you stepped back. No, you couldn’t. You would melt against him as you always did and it would be harder to maintain the professionalism the situation required. 

“Have you thought of any dates?” You asked as casually as you could, though a hint of annoyance found its way into your tone. 

“Don’t you think we should discuss that?” 

“Very well. I would suggest a time near Starfall. That’s always a romantic time of year.” If you were to ever marry, that would be the time of year you’d want your ceremony to fall on. It was cooler, the nights longer, but the stars shone clearer and on some nights looked as if they were close enough to reach. “Though, I would have to check the temple diary to be sure we can hold the ceremony at that time.” 

You moved to the adjoining room, where a few small tables and bookshelves remained for the priestesses to use. The temple diary was an easy enough book to find. Once you had retrieved it, you flicked through the pages to the calendar. Sure enough there was an opening two days before Starfall. You relayed the information to Rhysand who nodded and said, “That’s perfect.”

“Excellent! I’ll jot it down then. Listen, while you’re here, we should probably start getting some of the other forms done. Save some time.” You wrote the date down before standing to find a large pile of documents on the corner of one of the tables. The temple really needed a better organization system, but that was a problem for another day. The first part of the form needed Rhysand’s name, which you wrote . The next…

“All right, what is the name of the lucky lady in question?” 

At that, Rhysand looked visibly confused. “Rhysand, you shouldn’t marry someone if you don’t know their name. I feel that goes without saying.” 

Rhysand’s voice sounded mildly worried as he replied with your name. You paused in your writing and looked up at him. “Pardon?”

“It’s you. I’m asking you to marry me.” 

The silence was deafening. You stared, eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you out of your senses?”

Rhysand’s visible confusion deepened. “I feel Amren would say I am. She thinks it’s too soon; though I find in affairs of the heart, she’s not always the best being to turn to.”

“I might agree with her! What about that other female you’ve been spending so much time with? Morrigan, the gorgeous blonde one! What about her?” 

Frustration rose within you. Was this some kind of joke to him? He charmed his way into your life and then started spending all his time with Morrigan, and now he was asking for your hand in marriage? You opened your mouth to add your own two-cents regarding his judgment, but were rendered speechless by Rhysand’s reply. “You mean my cousin?”

All at once you felt all the confusion and anger of the last few weeks coming bubbling up to the surface and you shouted, “What?!”

“She’s one of my closest friends; I consult her about nearly everything.”  He still looked confused, but you found you didn’t really care. In that moment, you needed clarity. 

“What?” 

“We’ve been walking Valeris together trying to decide if it was too rash or too soon or, perhaps, too stupid. But, I finally decided I must follow my heart. And my heart is saying that you are the being I wish to spend eternity with, the being that I am destined to be with until death comes and claims me.” 

There was a look of burning passion, strong and intense adoration, in his eyes and your heart began to beat wildly in your chest at the sight of it. Oh. He loved you. Gods, you felt so foolish, but how could you have known. His words from before, his proposal, flashed in your mind again and when you opened your mouth to speak, to say that you felt the same, all that came out was a garbled noise. 

Both you and Rhysand looked surprised by the sound and you tried, once again in vain, to say what was on your mind. The noise was worse the second time. "Will you excuse me?" It was asked with some effort, but you managed. You didn't wait for him to answer and instead hurried off to the secluded meditation room around the corner. Once there you took a series of steadying breaths, trying desperately to calm your racing heart and wrap your head around the truth Rhysand had just shared with you. 

It all seemed almost too good to be true. Rhysand, the High Lord, wanted to marry you? You had hoped he loved you to that extent, and would gladly say yes if he meant it. The whole situation felt like a fantasy, like a scene from those books you used to read as a child where the handsome prince would save the princess and they'd live happily ever after. Could such a thing happen in real life? You inhaled and exhaled twice more and then moved back to the sanctuary where Rhysand waited, a nervous look on his handsome face. 

"Let me be sure I've got this absolutely right," you said as you approached, "You are asking me to marry you."

“Yes.”

That ungodly sound worked its way out of your mouth once more and Rhys’s lips quirked into an amused smile. His arms, so strong and warm, wrapped around your middle and pulled you to him. One of his hands slid up your spine to the back of your head before entwining in your hair. 

“I have loved you from the very moment I laid eyes on you. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we are meant to be together.” His breath was warm against your face as he tilted his head down and leaned forward. “Marry me, darling?”

You didn’t hesitate, your answer required no consideration. You leaned up, closing the little distance between the two of you, and your lips dragged against his as you replied, “Yes.” 

There was a heat to the kiss. It was as if the dams you’d both built to preserve your emotions had crumbled and the flood of your love and adoration for one another had rushed forward. There was so much to think about and plan for. It wouldn’t be easy figuring out your place within his court and what his expectations would be; and you’d have to address your own for him. All of that would come, all of that could wait. In that moment, all that mattered was the feeling of Rhysand’s warm body pressed against you as he held you close, sipped kisses from your lips, and vowed to love you, and only you, until the end of time. 

[holdinbacksecrets]

𓏸𓂃boyfriend things╰𓏸 collecting at the seams

◞✧𓏯 ⸝⸝⸝ in that yearning state 💌 for my fellow nct, bts, svt enthusiasts ⊹◞✿

♡his date couldn’t have fun without alcohol. she held a drink in her hand on the dance floor, closing her eyes instead of looking at him. he felt lost beneath the lights and bothered by the booming bass. the whole scene made him think of you: you could dance all night hyped up on love, herbal tea, and moonlight melodies

♡she’s wearing heels and a long, silky dress that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. her beauty is undeniable. she sends him a compliment when they meet beside his passenger door. his smile is shallow, but she doesn’t know him well enough to realize. he misses your dirty converse on the dashboard and the golden anklets you’d mindlessly trace with your eyes cast on the city passing by

♡she doesn’t want any part of her body to touch the grass during a date in the park. he walks beside her with a blanket in hand and a tote bag over his shoulder filled with food and sparkling cider. he thinks of you running barefoot in the grass, holding up baggy jean shorts, wearing a t-shirt so worn holes are collecting at the seams. itchy legs stain the evening—they’re worth it. any slip in your mood was healed by bare skin meeting the earth

♡he doesn’t want a plan. he wants to lay in bed for hours, brushed by sunshine with your legs covering his stomach. he wants to kiss you and admire the swell that finds your lips, get lost in your laughter when you try to leave to finish his cake. this new girl…this woman who isn’t you… shouldn’t be here, not today. not the day that’s missing all the hearts you would’ve drawn on the calendar—setting it up to create so much love

♡it’s wrong to lead someone on. it’s wrong to take what you need and nothing beyond, but it’s easy to convince himself the actions are ok when she wants him too. when she wants whatever warmth he can possibly bring into her life, even if it’s shallow. but there’s a giant you-shaped void in his heart that keeps him distant, that makes it impossible to ever rest her cheek on his chest, kiss the spot below his ear, or wear the clothes to the right of his long sleeves in the closet

♡he doesn’t know how many more ways he can ask you to try again. how many more ways he can hope there’s flexibility in the title of friend. it hurts to recognize the details and be confused by the big picture because it’s you but cloaked in mystery, cloaked in this declaration of your evolution into a person who’s trying to forget that he hurt you, instead of telling him you hate what he did. he doesn’t know how many more ways he vocalize it’s ok if you say it. it’s ok if you hate him. it’s ok if you’re embarrassed by the falling apart you did behind closed doors because he didn’t have to witness the scene to know it happened—to see where you’re still bruised. it’s ok that he fucking mattered. it’s ok that you let yourself love. you still deserve it. it’s ok to be confused if you still only want it with him

♡he’d be embarrassed if you saw him with her on his arm because you’d see it. the loneliness he’s dripping. it shifts the air around him, and you’re the only one who can collect it in your hands and sculpt something beautiful. but you wouldn’t judge him for wrapping the feeling around someone new, and that only makes him feel worse

[peachiejeongin]

The Phantoms Part 5: I Got the Music | Bang Chan

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 (You Are Here) | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Synopsis: Y/n's back into music, and she can feel it in her soul! She and the Phantoms are booked to play the school dance that night; however, when a secret about an old friend comes to light, what happens when the Phantoms go ghost in favor of revenge?

Pairing: phantom!Bang Chan x fem!reader [Occurs in this chapter] (Minsung as well if you squint)

Genre: Julie and the Phantoms/3RACHA AU, Crack, Angst, Fluffy Moments

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, mentions of death

Notice: Hello, my darlings! Part 5 is here! This is just a reminder that I do not actually believe Han is gay in real life, due to there being allusions to such in the story, and I own no copyright titles to 'Julie and the Phantoms,' nor its characters! Enjoy the story!

You stood at your locker, humming the beat to your favorite song and dancing slightly without a care in the world. The past few days have been exhilerating, from meeting the phantoms, to performing in front of the school, and revealing the secret to your best friend. Every thing was keeping your energy in good spirits; thus, life was back to normal.

Sort of.

In the midst of your dancing fit, Flynn approached you, tapping you on the shoulder whilst giggling. You jumped out of fright, instantly breathing in once you saw it was her.

"Hey," you exasperatedly greeted, removing your earbuds.

"This is nice," she smiled. "You know, seeing you back to being a total weirdo."

"Thank you?" you furrowed your eyebrows with a playful smirk plastered onto your face.

"So, how's the ghosts?" Flynn intriguedly questioned. "Still cute? Still talented?"

"They're amazing," you nodded. "Chan and I spent all weekend writing songs together." Your heart warmed as you mentioned his name, a soft ache forming in your chest. Lately, the two of you had been spending more time together than usual, and with each passing moment, you found yourself growing more and more fond of him.

"Chan, huh?" Flynn nudged at your arm playfully. "You two have got some dynamic."

"Oh, shut up," you joked. "It's not like that, okay?"

"Sure," Flynn replied, giving an exaggerated wink and causing you to giggle.

"Anyways," you dismissively stated, "do you want to hear some of the songs?"

"Is that even a question?" Flynn rhetorically asked, holding out her hand and expecting to receive a notebook; instead, you linked your arm with hers and led her to the music room, explaining how writing songs with Chan was just like writing with your mom. You additionally rolled your eyes at the 'okay girl, I see you!' comment she made.

"This is the first song we wrote," you explained, beginning to play the piano skillfully as you sang the chorus to the song, 'Edge of Great,' you and Chan had devised.

"Cause we're standing on the edge of great great great"

Flynn bobbed her head back and forth, snapping her fingers to the beat.

"Love!" she exclaimed. "It's giving Lady Gaga!"

"Thanks!" you beamed genuinely at your best friend. "Now, this next one, I think we have an anthem with. My mom and I were working on it, and Chan and I finished it." Flynn gave you a knowing look, smirking smugly. "Don't," you warned with a pointer finger before diverting your attention back to the piano to sing the second melody.

"And it's one, two, three, four times That I'll try for one more night Light a fire in my eyes I'm going out of my mind"

Flynn's demeanor was different with this song; instead of appearing upbeat, she was more relaxed, more solemn.

"That's beautiful, y/n," she complimented; you nodded your head in agreement before Flynn spoke once more: "My girl's got a crush and his name is Chan."

"What?!" you interrobanged, throwing your hands up in retaliation. "Chan is a ghost! Even if I did have a crush on him, it would be...weird to figure that kind of thing out."

"He may be a ghost, but he's a cute ghost, and even if you can't touch him, you can still admire him," Flynn countered, causing you to blush.

"Okay, yeah," you finally agreed, rolling your eyes. "He is a cute ghost. A cute ghost with a perfect smile." Flynn instantly clasped her hands together, bouncing up and down in joy.

You had finally admitted it to both Flynn and yourself: you did have a crush on Chan, and in truth, you probably always had since the moment you met him. He was cute, talented, sweet, everything you admired, and, most of all, your motivation. There was nothing about him that you could dislike. With all the time the two of you had spent together recently, your feelings had become impossible to ignore. Maybe, you thought, a ghostly crush wouldn’t be so bad after all.

"I knew it!" Flynn practically screamed. "I saw it in the way you looked at him! Just remember though: he's made out of air."

"Cute air," you retaliated, making Flynn smirk slightly.

"Just don't get yourself hurt," she warned. "You guys obviously have chemistry; I mean, everyone wants to know when you guys are playing again."

"Play again?" you repeated, quirking an eyebrow. "We have absolutely nothing planned. Chan and I have just been focused on writing songs."

"Lucky for you, your advertising team already has something figured out," she nodded excitedly, going to pull a paper out of her backpack.

"I don't have an advertising-," you were cut off as Flynn displayed the paper to you; it was a photograph of a guitar, bold white letters reading as follows:

"Y/n and Her Hologram Band! Tonight At the Dance!"

"Surprise!" Flynn exclaimed, handing you the flier. "I'm DJ-ing tonight as well, so I thought it would be perfect! I posted it all over Insta. By the way, you have an excellent advertising team."

You stared at the flier, concern prominent in your gaze; sure, you had performed in front of the school before, but it was mainly just the athletes and music students. At the dance, the entire student body would be there; you had an ounce of stage fright creep up on you as you pushed the flier away.

"Absolutely not," you shook your head, your voice trembling slightly. "Flynn, I cannot perform in front of the entire school!" Just then, Flynn's phone buzzed, and she tsked as she checked the notification.

"Sorry, girl," she apologized with faux sympathy. "Your post already has 100 likes." She walked away before you could argue back; you groaned in response, grabbing your stuff in attempts to catch up with her.

---

"We're playing a school dance? Sweet!" Changbin punched the air victoriously as he analyzed the flier.

"It's not exactly the Orpheum," Chan tsked as he made eye contact with you, a shy smile forming on your face as you shook your head.

"And you, my friend, are not exactly alive, so you should be happy we have a gig after 29 years!" Changbin countered, earning a playful nudge from Chan.

"Don't worry, Chan," you began. "I wasn't a huge fan of the idea at first either, but, it could be a great way for us to gain a following."

"No, you're right," Chan instantly agreed with you, causing Changbin to look at him with confusion. "Let's rock those kids' faces off, then play at clubs."

"Then, we record a single that gets us a million streams?" you questioned, looking at the boy hopefully.

"I have no idea what streams are, but hopefully they get us a manager, a record deal, and a world tour," he winked playfully as he clicked his tongue, shooting a pointer finger in your direction.

"Then, we release a bunch of hit albums!" you continued.

"Put out a country album that does surprisingly well!" Changbin added on, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. "I can shred on a banjo."

"Then, I will learn how to fiddle," you agreed, giving Changbin a no-contact fist bump.

"And before you know it, we're winning our first Grammy!" Chan banged his hands against the piano as he stood up from his leaning position.

"But one of us isn't there!" Changbin said. "Because we had a blowout in 2036. My money's on Han; he's just so emotional."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's rehearse!" Chan yelled out.

"Wait, where's Han?"

---

"You know, I don't think this is about art," Han told Minho as the two stood outside of an abandoned museum. "I think you're just a rule-breaker."

"Perhaps," Minho smirked, poking his tongue at the side of his cheek. "You should try it; y'know, loosen up a little."

Han's gaze fixated on the doors to the museum before he nodded slowly and pointed to the building.

"We're going in there, aren't we?" Minho did not answer, instead taking Han's hand in his and dragging him straight through the museum doors.

"Well, would you lookie there?" Minho asked, looking around at the structures. "We have the whole place to ourselves." The boy put his helmet on and began to skate around the building, kick flipping over statues and ollying on benches within the museum.

"Hey, dude, move that bench. I want to do a trick on that pillar," Minho commanded Han, leading the younger to shrug.

"I can't move things," he admitted shyly. "I can barely move photos and stuff."

"Just put all of your energy into your hands," Minho advised. "Then, you can move anything." Han nodded, taking in a deep breath and attempting Minho's method; however, his hands passed right through the bench, leading him to sigh deeply.

"I guess I need to do some ghost push-ups," Han jokingly stated.

"No, you just need to focus," Minho countered.

"Yeah, well I've never been good at focusing," Han confessed, smiling meekly. "I've always been an anxious person, and then I died, which did not make things any better."

Minho nodded in understanding, holding up his hand and motioning for Han to put his in front of his own. He held the two limbs together, smiling at the latter.

"We got this, okay?" Minho reassured Han, causing the younger to nod his head, feeling a bit more relaxed. The two leaned down to the bench, Minho having a firm hand planted on Han's back. With a bunch of concentration, the two lifted one end of the bench together, causing them both to grin.

"Okay, you have like ten seconds before this bench comes down!" Han laughed as he spoke, and Minho dashed to the other side; the two shuffled their feet as they moved the bench out of the way, giggling through the whole ordeal. Minho followed the action up with the trick he was wanting to do off of the bench, sitting down afterwards and breathing a bit heavily.

After a while, he glanced up at Han, removing his helmet as he beamed.

"You're wired a little tight," he commented, motioning for Han to sit beside of him on the bench.

Han chuckled, doing what the older requested and analyzing his surroundings.

"Is that why you started playing drums?" Minho questioned. "To help with your anxiety?"

"Pretty much," Han explained. "There's no better way to work through fear than to wail on a drumset, right?"

Minho agreed solumnly before instantly standing up.

"You know what makes me feel better?" he asked. "Yelling in museums." He followed his response up with a loud scream, gesturing for Han to do the same. Han did do so, but incredibly weakly, making Minho roll his eyes.

"No, man! You have to put your heart into it!" With that, he let out another yell; Han followed once more, much more loudly this time.

Thus, the two guys spent a good twenty minutes screaming in the middle of an abandoned museum, holding onto one another as they did so, and following each scream with fits of laughter.

---

"One more time," Chan declared; you, him, and Changbin were practicing the song for the dance tonight. It was another one you and Chan had wrote together, titled, 'Finally Free." Chan riffed on his guitar with Changbin playing his bass to compliment and you adding beats on your keyboard. In the middle of rehearsal, Han appeared, smiling the day away.

"And where have you been, good sir?" Chan raised a curious eyebrow. "We need to practice!"

"For what?" Han crossed his arms as he inquired; at that time, Flynn burst through the garage doors.

"I got news!" she struck an exaggerated pose as she walked in. "I don't have a date, but it doesn't matter because I am just excited to see you guys perform!"

"Yo, we're playing a dance?" Han asked the guys, bewilderment etched on his face.

"I mean, why not man? It's how we get a following," Chan nodded towards you, repeating your priorly mentioned words.

"Yeah, get with the times, Han," you smirked at the boy, earning a cheeky grin from Chan.

"The guys are here?!" Flynn exclaimedly asked. "Hey guys!" She waved at thin air.

"Other way, babes," you raised your eyebrows as you pointed to where the phantoms were standing. She turned in the motioned direction, waving at the actual ghosts, to which they invisibly reciprocated.

"Anyways, we were about to start rehearsing. Wanna stick around?" you asked Flynn.

"Let's see, I have to blow up about 500 ballons for the dance, set up my DJ equipment, and reply to comments under your promotional post. I'd love to stay! Let me go grab my bag real quick!"

"Wait, y/n, before I forget," Chan called out once Flynn had left, placing his guitar on the stand. "There's some 3RACHA songs I want to show you." He made his way over the the amp in the garage, picking up the notebook laying on top of it in order to show you the melodies; however, he paused for a second, his eyes scanning over a song that had been taped to the front of his book.

"'Home is Where My Horse Is,'" Chan read out loud, slamming the notebook against the amp before removing the page. "Changbin, stop putting your country songs in my journal!"

"That was a gift!" Changbin countered as Chan handed you the notebook, shoving the song into Changbin's hands, slightly crumpling the paper as he did so.

"I starred the ones I know you would kill," he smiled genuinely, and a sudden warmth spread through you, making your stomach tighten with excitement. You flipped through the pages, reading the song titles until you came across one called, "Unsaid Emily."

"Who's Emily?" you asked Chan, intrigued at the name; you assumed it was a past partner, causing a bit of jealousy to coarse through you, yet the curiosity overwhelmed the negativity.

"That one isn't starred," Chan snapped, attempting to snatch the journal from you; you jerked it back from his reach, his rough actions surprisingly you slightly since they went against the gentle manner you had grown to admire.

"If you could only know, I'd never let you go," you read the lyrics out loud, revelling in Chan's penmanship. "Wow, Channie. I didn't know you were so romantic!"

"Well, y/n, the song's actually about-"

"No one," Chan cut Han off before he could clarify. "I just tried writing a love song one day, and uh," he halted in his words, trying to grab the journal again but failing. "If you go to the next page though, there's a starred song that's got a tune perfect for your range. I'll show you the tune for it."

Chan picked his guitar back up, plucking at the strings as he riffed a familiar melody. You furrowed your eyebrows at the tune.

"When did you guys sample that song?" you questioned, causing the boys to look at each other in uncertainty.

"What?"

"Sample. As in use another artist's work for inspiration," you explained. "Me and my mom used to sing that song together all of the time back when I was little. It's a classic Sam Hwang song."

"Nope," Chan corrected. "It's a classic our song." He set the sheet music in front of you, his gaze boring into yours.

"Yep, one-hundred percent 3RACHA!" Changbin put in. "Don't even know who Sam Hwang is!"

"Yeah, you're probably just mixing it up with another song," Han inputted.

"I'm not one to mix up songs," you retaliated. "Me and his daughter were best friends once, and I used to crash at their place daily. I know that song. Here, I'll show you." You pulled out your laptop, pulling up a biopic of Sam Hwang and turning your computer around to show the ghosts.

"His first album had tons of hits, but his latest stuff isn't all too great." Han smacked his hand against Chan's chest, he and Changbin's eyes widening in pure shock. You did not understand their reactions until Chan spoke.

The man pictured was definitely older than the boys remembered; however, he still had the same scraggly black hair from the 90s, adorned by his almond-shaped, dark brown eyes and slight smile the guys remembered all too well.

"That's Hyunjin."

"Seriously?" you sighed. "I just told you his name is Sam."

"Okay, whatever. He must have changed it," Han held his hand up dismissively, his eyes never leaving the laptop's screen. "That is most definitely Hyunjin. He was our rhythm guitarist!"

"Sam Hwang was in your band?" you questioned, disbelief prominent in your tone.

"Y/n," Chan called as he dismissed your question, his voice low and a touch saddened. "What were his other hits?" You began listing songs off such as, "Get Lost," "Long Weekend," and "Crooked Teeth," all of which the ghosts confirmed to have been written by Chan, the last of the three being argued upon whether it was written about Changbin or Han. Chan made his way to the back of the room, picking up a handful of playing darts and chucking them angrily at the game board.

"This is freaky," you breathed out, your expression morphing into slight dismay. "Sam's songs are kind of big to me. He's the one who got me into rock!"

"Well, congratulations," Han cheered sarcastically. "Chan got you into rock."

"So, this whole time, I thought you were connected to my mom," you started, shaking your head in indecision. "But you've been connected to Carrie's dad instead?"

"Yeah, well add that to our list of questions," Han shrugged.

"I just don't get it," you sighed. "When Carrie and I were still friends, the three of us talked about music constantly. He never once mentioned you guys."

"Which is absurd!" Chan screamed as he flung the last dart at the target. "He took all of the credit for my work, our work, and never had the decency to mention us? He stole our legacy." All three of the boys' faces dropped, their hearts sinking as they took Chan's words into account.

Hyunjin had stolen all that they had worked for; all that was rightfully theirs.

"Where does he live?" Chan inquired, his tone lowering alarmingly deep.

"Above the beach in Malibu," you told Chan, causing him to pick up his jacket.

"Alright boys," Chan gave an angry smile. "Let's go teach our old friend a lesson."

"Wait, what?" you stood up, astounded at Chan's statement. "Guys, we have to rehearse for the dance! It's our first gig!"

Before you could continue, the guys teleported away, revenge the only think present on their minds.

---

"Hyunjin's house is ridiculous!" Han yelled.

The three ghosts roamed around the lustrious mansion, ogling and angering at every luxurious sight; this mansion was supposed to be theirs.

"Have you seen these platinum records?" Han continued, causing Changbin to whip around.

"I'm sorry, platinum?!"

"He recorded 'My Name is Chris," Chan bewilderedly stated, glaring at one of the records. "My name is Chris!" he screamed out, pointing to himself.

At that moment, Hyunjin walked through the door, taking off his shoes as he stepped in.

"It's him!" Changbin alerted the other two boys as soon as he took notice.

"Hey, Carrie! I'm going to meditate!" he called to his daughter, who responded by saying she was in the den of the house.

"He wears sunglasses indoors," Changbin motioned to the man as he walked up the stairs. "I can't stand him!"

"Time for his past to haunt him," Chan whispered enraged, as all three boys raced upstairs after him.

The boys found Hyunjin sitting criss crossed on the floor, adorned in casual clothes as he breathed deeply in and out. Candles and esences were lit around the whole room, created a peaceful aroma. As Hyunjin continued his meditation, he suddenly felt a wet sensation in his ear-lobe, as if someone had given him a wet-willy; Chan was the culprit behind this trick, an old favorite he used to subject the boy to in the 90s.

Hyunjin rubbed the spot briefly before attempting to go back to his quietness. Yet, it happened again, only this time, Han blew the candles out for an added effect; furthermore, Changbin placed a 3RACHA CD into Hyunjin's music player, causing the rock beat to echo throughout his bedroom; he quickly got up from his position and switched the player off, but it turned back on once more, which made Hyunjin unplug the machine entirely.

He had hoped the string of weirdness had ceased; however, his hopes diminished as he heard the sound of running water coming from the upstairs bathroom.

"Carrie?" he called out, hoping his daughter was just washing her hands or showering; however, as he peered into the bathroom, he found sight of no one, yet the shower had been switched on. His hands trembled as he turned the shower handle off, his attention quickly diverting to squeaking coming from the mirror. In the steam elicitng from the hot shower water, Chan wrote a message for his friend:

"Hello, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin gasped deeply at the message; he had not been called that name in years. He darted out of the bathroom, attempting running downstairs, but his face quickly came into contact with a closed door. He pushed and shoved and pulled, but he could not open his bedroom door; this was Han's fun, as he held the door closed while the other boys snickered. Hyunjin was growing more and more fearful by the minute, convinced his past was back to haunt him.

Which, to be fair, it was indeed.

"Let! Me! Out!" he screamed at the top of his lungs; at that point, han released the door handle, causing Hyunjin to nearly fall as he ran out of the room. The phantoms laughed, high fiving one another as he ran downstairs, mentioning something to Carrie about how he was going to see his therapist.

The ghosts teleported outside just as Hyunjin was taking off from his helicopter, their hair blowing as the blades whirred.

"Guys, let's moon him before he gets too far away!" Changbin suggested.

"He can't see us," Han reminded the older.

"It's not for him, bro," Chan retaliated. "It's for us." With that, all three guys pulled their pants down, showing off their "moons" as Hyunjin flew away, shouting, "Take that Bobby!"

"You guys having fun?" You had appeared seemingly out of thin air, causing the boys to jump and jerk their pants back up. You had snuck into the house with Flynn, who was currently keeping Carrie distracted about a, "raccoon in her backyard."

"You would do the same if he stole all of your songs, y/n," Chan held out a hand, gesturing towards you.

"Sure, but the only way to get back at him is for this band to be great," you retaliated. "Which means playing at dances, then at clubs-"

"Then on tours," Chan finished your sentence as he approached you. "I know. We just wanted to get back at him if only for a little bit."

"I get that." You placed your hand on Chan’s arm, the warmth there fading as your fingers brushed through him, unable to grasp anything solid. You let out a quiet sigh, still yearning for the physical connection you could not quite have with your ghostly crush. "I'll see you guys at the school. We play at 9:00. Don't be late," you warned, as all of the guys reassured you that they would be there. Once you walked away, Changbin dropped his smile.

"I'm glad we scared Hyunjin," he stated in contrast to his previous apologies and comforts. "We honestly should have done more, like written 'thief' on his forehead or something."

"And Han, how were you able to keep the door shut?" Chan questioned. "You were barely able to open the garage door a couple of days ago."

"Learned that from your new friend Minho, didn't ya?" Changbin nudged the younger teasingly.

"Yeah, he taught me a couple of neat tricks," Han admitted. "Plus, we screamed in a museum. Long story," he added on, noting Chan and Changbin's taken aback gazes.

"You think he can teach us some tricks?" Chan asked.

"Let's find out."

---

"You brought friends!" Minho exclaimed as he brought Han in for a hug. The three bandmates had teleported to the park, where Han had assured Minho would be at skating.

"Yep! These are my bandmates," Han introduced the two boys as they gave small waves.

"Cool, I'm Minho," he reciprocated the greeting, giving fist bumps to both ghosts. "So, you wanna learn some tricks?" To add emphasis to the question, Minho flicked his finger towards a nearby police scooter, causing the sirens and lights to go off, allowing two teenagers that had been questioned by the officers.

"Well, we were thinking a little bigger," Chan explained. "Y'see, we've got an old mate who stole our songs, and we want to confront him face to face."

"Is the old friend a lifer?" Minho asked first, Han explaining how that was "fancy ghost lingo" for living people.

"Then yeah," Changbin agreed. "He's a lifer! Too much of a fancy pants to eat some Street Dogs." Changbin scoffed as he crossed his arms.

Minho sighed.

"I'm sorry. Speaking to lifers is out of my realm." The phantoms' faces sunk in, their expressions going dim. "There is someone I know who may be able to help you guys." Minho immediately thought of a friend, his words causing the boys to lighten back up. "He is kind of a big deal, though."

"Anything will help us, big or small," Chan assured.

"Sweet. Well, let me go take care of a couple of things, and then I want you guys to meet me where Han and I met at 8:00. Sound good?" The boys eagerly nodded at Minho's demands, the young boy smiling as he skated away following their agreement.

---

"Do we have any Bobcats in the house?!" Flynn asked the crowd of dancers, causing the gym floor to erupt in cheer.

The dance was lively, full of energy as blue and purple lights flashed amongst the crowd. You had to push yourself through the hyperactive students to get on stage, motioning to Flynn to head to the edge of the stage with a holographic projector in your hand.

"How you feeling?" Flynn yelled over the loud music and chatter.

"Nervous," you responded in the same octave of voice.

"You'll be fine! Let's set up your gear!" she gestured for you to come backstage, excitement present in her demeanor. You rushed onstage, hugging Flynn tightly as she complimented your outfit.

You were wearing a rainbow mesh crop top over a black tank-top, adorned with baggy grey cargo jeans and your hair styled in messy space buns.

"It's my mom's," you explained. "I finally went through her things."

"She would have loved you wearing that," Flynn smiled, genuine words coming from her lips. "Where are the guys?"

"On their way," you responded, confident in your words. "They know how important is to me, so I'm sure they'll be here."

---

"Oh hey, Seungmin? I brought those ghosts I met. It's still cool that they're here, right?"

"Of course, Minho. I even reserved a special table for them."

"Alright, awesome! Thank you!"

"No, no. Thank you."

[watermelonsugacry]

wait a second what the heck did 1d member!yn wear to the met gala? i feel like she probably went before harry hosted and was probably in ari’s dress for the heavenly bodies themed one and when she went with harry she was just the embodiment of camp i just know it

2018 - Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination

"Oh-oh my gosh it's freakin' YN YLN," Liza Koshy grunts excitedly at the sight of the former One Direction star walking up the carpeted steps. "Nothing can drag her down, she looks so amazing. You look absolutely beautiful!" Liza Koshy gushes as YN walks up to her first interview section of the night.

"'fank you! You look gorgeous, babe," She compliments back as she adjusts herself to show off her beautiful gown.

"The angels above are singing right now and you're a singing angel yourself. And how fitting that your album is titled Only Angel because you certainly are one tonight," YN grips onto Liza's hand and scrunches up her nose as she giggles at how many compliments the young woman is throwing out at her.

"Stop, please don't make me laugh, I can't breathe in this corset," The two women laugh and YN has to put a hand on her tummy to help control her breathing.

"You look fantastic, girl. Please tell us about your look."

"So I'm wearing Vera Wang tonight. It is the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It's the last judgment scene where Christ decides who goes to Heaven and who goes to Hell."

"This is your first Met Gala, how are you feeling tonight?" Liza gives a warm smile.

"I feel amazing. I feel excited. I can't really believe that I'm here. I feel like m'at a very expensive prom," YN smiles brightly as she looks around at all the well-dressed guests.

"Will you save me a dance later then?"

"Oh, absolutely!"

"And lastly, do you have anything you want to confess?" The interviewer humorously wiggles her eyebrows.

"Umm, I feel like I have to pee a little bit. M'kinda hungry, to be honest," YN lists with a laugh, the woman next to her following suit.

"Well, if you need help in the bathroom with all that dress you let me know. Girl, I got you," The pop star thanks her over a laugh. "Well you look phenomenal," Liza shakes her head in disbelief one more time. "Have a good night tonight."

"You as well. I'll see yeh on the dance floor!" YN calls over her shoulder with a wave of her hand as she's escorted away.

2019 - Camp: Notes on Fashion

"...baby you light up the Met like nobody else. How are you doing, Mister Harry Styles?"

After some initial questions, Liza asks the tongue twister question, "You are a style icon for so many, who's Harry Styles's style icon?"

"Erm, this lovely lady over here," Harry smiles warmly once he sees the woman in question make her way up the pink stars. He's quickly going over to her, taking her hand in his and helping her up the rest of the way.

"Ms. YN YLN! Oh my gosh!"

"Liza! How are yeh, babe?" YN giddily shuffles her way over to give the fun interviewer a hug the best she can over her outfit.

"I'm good, I'm good. I'm like a hummingbird perched on a flower bush!" Liza makes a bird cooing sound and it makes the couple laugh. "You look so stunning. Please tell me about your look."

"So I'm wearing Gucci today and this piece is called The Girl In Bloom. It was designed and made by my good friend, Emma Evans who has been me stylist since I first started my career."

"Please tell me, how does this outfit speak to you and to Camp?"

"Well, I think Camp is about being genuine and being yourself," YN nods her head, her gloved-covered hands moving in front of her as she speaks. "I'm sharing some of my story through this piece in how I grew up in the music industry: on a personal level, a musical level, and so on. So I started in this industry as a young girl and now I'm blossoming into something more. Fashion is supposed to be fun and expressive and I think this outfit showcases that for me tonight."

While YN explains her outfit, the camera picks up the way he's fondly smiling at his secret girlfriend. He's in awe at her words and how she chooses to express herself. It's a bit surreal that both of them are in attendance tonight, a very public and well-known event where they are free to hang out, talk about fashion and just have a good time. It's a proud moment for the both of them for sure.

"Ooo m'am you have such a way with words you sound so majestic," Liza playfully fans herself. "So we all know that the two of you are very familiar with one another-"

"This guy? I just met this bloke tonight," YN jokes and it makes Harry tilts his chin down to his chest as he chuckles. "I thought he was only helping me up the steps. I dunno know this guy at all."

She gives his wrist a squeeze with a cheeky smile and Harry doesn't think twice about placing his hand protectively on the bottom of her back--a part in the video that fans keep replaying over and over again.

"Yeah, I don't know either. Who is this guy?" Liza dramatically teases. "With both of you two here tonight, how excited are you guys to be here?"

"I feel very excited," Harry starts and looks at his former band member with a fond smile. "Events like this seem like a once in a lifetime opportunity so it's nice to be here with a friend."

"Alright guys, have a great rest of your night!"

"You as well, thank you," And with that, Harry extends an arm for YN to grab onto as they walk inside the grand hall.

When Liza turns back to the camera, she suddenly sucks in a dramatic breath, " I feel like I can breathe again."

The After Party:

After playing host for the majority of the night and being released from his Co-Chair duties, Harry takes YN up to the DJ platform to have some much-needed fun.

The short video clip of the three of them up there shows the fans how hammered the two of them have gotten.

As Mark Ronson remixes Rolling In The Deep, YN and Harry dance behind him. While gripping onto each others hands, they sway themselves to the rhythm of the music. She sways her hips with her eyes closed and when Harry lets her go, the back of her hands brush up along the nape of her neck, up the side of her face and in the air.

When Mark switches it up to The 900 Number, the two friends look at each other with wide eyes and excited smiles.

Harry reaches out to grip her shoulders as he drunkenly yells to her over the loud music, "Oh, fuck!" All the while, YN's face scrunches up in a tipsy giggle and she grips onto his forearms.

The video clip ends as Harry tugs her closer to him, throwing an arm around the tops of her shoulders as they turn their backs to the camera.

.

.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

I write for free so if any of you lovies would like to help a college girl out and buy her a ko-fi i would greatly appreciate it :) 💚

[weemssapphic]

Her Favorite Dance

Brienne of Tarth x f!reader

This is basically a rewrite of the ball that Brienne’s father threw for her to find her a suitor except instead of Renly swooping in to save the day, it’s reader, because I need to rewrite canon to heal my heartbreak. I aged Brienne and reader around 16 years old here because it felt right and anything younger felt ~wrong~.

Not 10000% happy with how it turned out but that's just the way the cookie crumbles 🍪

Warnings: mentions of bullying

Words: ~2.2k

ao3 link in title

tags for those who may be interested: @afeatherformills @sapphicsbeloved @scumppa @zephyr-is-tired <3

The Sapphire Isle is buzzing with excitement. Tonight’s ball is thrown by Lord Selwyn Tarth on behalf of his only daughter, Brienne, in hopes of finding her a potential suitor. You are there as a family friend to the Tarth family, having grown up alongside Brienne as your father is one of Lord Tarth’s most trusted advisors. 

The two of you had spent many summer afternoons by the sea, laying on your bellies as you listened to Brienne talk of becoming the first female knight of Westeros, of riding horses into battle and traveling the Seven Kingdoms. You love the glint in her eyes as she spoke, the smile that lit up her entire face. You’d watched from the sidelines as Brienne trained with Ser Goodwin, always cheering her on whenever she landed a hit. 

Sword fighting is not for you - you are far too clumsy, and more comfortable in your role as a lady - but you’d always admired her for it. You know it’s an escape for her, that she’s desperate to prove herself in some way, having felt as though she failed as a lady for not meeting Westerosi beauty standards - though you don’t share her sentiments. You think she is the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.

You love her sandy blonde hair, the way it falls onto her cheekbones and the way she brushes it back in irritation. You often find yourself wishing you could tuck it behind her ear for her, but then you would blush and chastise yourself at the thought. You love her cerulean eyes, expressive and kind, framed by soft, blonde lashes that flutter gently like the butterflies in your stomach anytime she smiles at you for a moment too long. You love her legs, far too long for any girl of your age but it doesn’t matter, you are entranced when you sit side by side and feel her thigh brush against yours. Most of all, you love her honor and loyalty. You love that she is still kind, even when so many are so unkind to her.

The ballroom of Evenfall Hall is decked out in an opulence tonight. Tapestries line the walls, the marble floors shine in the light of the fire blazing forth from dozens of torches, bathing the room in a warm, welcoming glow that bounces off the gilded hammerbeam roof.

Dozens of young lords from the Stormlands are lined up at one end of the room, dressed in their finest, talking amongst themselves in urgent, hushed tones. At once, the group of boys stop snickering and all stand a little taller, straightening their backs a little more, their heads turning towards the front of the room. 

You crane your neck to see and sure enough, there she is, accompanied by her father. Brienne wears a dress today, a rare sight. The dress is a deep shade of blue, sapphire to match the waters of the famed Sapphire Isle, or perhaps to compliment her eyes (those eyes that you had gotten lost in more than once), you aren’t sure which.

It isn’t that Brienne doesn’t look beautiful in the dress. Oh no, you think she looks radiant. It hugs her slim frame in all the right places, accentuating her broad shoulders and sending a shiver down your spine. It’s more so that she looks a bit awkward, like a fawn taking its first steps, unsure of how to move about the world just yet. Her blonde hair is slicked back, away from her face, which gives prominence to the smooth, pale planes of her cheekbones and her soft jaw. She looks up to the group of suitors lined up for her, then gives her father a glance - you can tell she is nervous, you know her well enough.

She looks out to the crowd watching her and catches your eye. You wave, smiling brightly, hoping to help soothe her nerves. She smiles back then rolls her eyes slightly, as if to say “can you believe what they’re making me do?” You only grin wider and wink at her, enjoying the light blush that colors her cheeks.

Lord Tarth and Brienne reach the far end of the ballroom and, after a short speech from the former, the ball begins. A group of singers and lutists begin to play a lively tune and the mood is joyful and light. Wine is poured and the crowd moves fluidly across the dance floor, swept up in the grandeur of the evening.

Every so often, you catch a glimpse of Brienne, and with each glimpse you find it harder and harder to tear your eyes away. Her gangling figure moves across the dance floor with practiced perfection. She can dance, she was taught how to, as were you all as young girls. Her frame only makes it look a bit clumsy as she towers over the boys chosen as her potential suitors. You are captivated by each step of hers, finding yourself wishing it were your hands on her waist, your lips upon her ear, as each of the suitors leans in to whisper something to Brienne. 

Brienne smiles giddily at their words and you wonder what they could be saying to elicit such a reaction, a strange, unfamiliar jealousy gnawing at your insides with every giggle she lets out, every blush that creeps across her cheeks. You see her father beaming down at her from where he sits, pride evident on his face and you suppose you should be happy for her, if she really were to find a suitable husband tonight. Brienne had spoken often enough about how she wished to make her father proud.

A commotion to your right brings you out of your sullen trance. You snap your head around and see the group of potential suitors, waiting for their turn to dance, huddled up, pushing at one another and snickering again as they had been before Brienne had arrived. You sneak up, curious, and hide behind a nearby marble pillar, attempting to eavesdrop on their whispered conversation, which is getting louder with every drop of wine they are consuming.

“Who’s next?” “I already had my turn with the great beast!” “You should go next.” “Do I have to?” “Oh come on, Brienne the Beauty is waiting!”

Your face is hot, heart pounding sharply in your chest. You step out into the open and prepare to cuss the boys out as you hear a sharp intake of breath next to you. Whirling around, you see Brienne standing behind you, mouth agape. It’s too late. She’s heard everything.

The boys burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh look,” says the one who has just finished his dance with her. “Is the great beauty going to cry?” Brienne takes off, her shoulder bumping roughly into yours as she rushes to exit the festivities.

You can’t help yourself. Before you realize what you’re doing, you feel your hand connect with the boy’s face, leaving behind a stinging sensation on your palm. You turn on your heel and rush after your friend, just in time to see the sapphire cloth of Brienne’s dress disappear around the corner.

By the time you catch up with her at the cliffs overlooking Shipbreaker Bay, you’re out of breath and panting. She stands at the edge of a cliff, looking out at the horizon, her back toward you. She is hugging herself, arms wrapped tightly around her torso, and you can see her shoulders quivering. 

“Please leave,” she says harshly as gravel crunches under your feet in the quiet of the night, betraying your presence. You can hear the tears in her voice and it tears a fissure in your heart.

“Brienne, it’s me,” your voice is low, gentle, an olive branch that you pray she will accept.

“Oh.” 

“I hit him,” you offer, coming up beside her and placing your hand on her arm. Brienne looks down at you, her sniffles stopping for a moment, brow furrowing.

“Why?”

You laugh, as if it’s the most absurd question you’ve ever heard, because it kind of is. “Because he was cruel to you. Because he deserved it. He actually deserves way more than that but I wanted to make sure you were alright first.”

Brienne looks at you in wonder, tears still welled up in her eyes. Her gaze is so intense it’s almost too much to bear - you’re afraid if she looks into your eyes for just a second longer, she’ll know all your secrets, that she’ll somehow find your love for her, laid bare right there for her to see, and so you break her gaze and look out over the water. Moonlight dances on the ripples of the waves, a light breeze sends a shiver down your spine.

“You looked happy tonight,” you whisper finally, unable to hide the trembling in your voice.

Silence, save for the lapping of the water on the cliffs below.

“It seemed like you were having a nice time. The suitors seemed really nice, until the end there.”

Brienne shudders next to you.

“Yes. I finally felt like I was making my father proud.” You could hear her voice wobble.

“I think he is proud of you, in his own way. I mean, I would be, anyway.” You say this last part quieter, hoping Brienne won’t hear you, but of course she does. You can feel her eyes upon you and you refuse to meet them, training your gaze on the starry skies above you.

“They talked of marrying me. Of whisking me away to their castles. I thought maybe I could finally be the daughter my father always wanted.”

“What about you though? Did you want them and their castles?” You can’t help the question from slipping through your lips.

You look up and watch as Brienne seems to consider this for a moment. “I suppose I want to be wanted. Doesn’t everyone?” She hugs herself tightly again, hunching over slightly as if to make herself smaller. 

You feel your heartbeat in your throat, and you hope desperately that Brienne cannot hear it. Your palms are sweaty, your head swimming. Your heart aches for her, you know how badly she wants to be loved, you’ve always known, and yet here you are, loving her and unable to tell her and so you think it instead. I want you, Brienne. 

“What?” 

Your eyes widen in shock, your stomach drops. Had you said that out loud? 

Brienne’s wide eyes mirror your own. You had said it out loud. Fuck.

“I want you,” you whisper, stepping away from Brienne and gritting your teeth, steeling yourself for rejection.

Brienne’s arms drop to her side and she takes a careful step towards you. You have to crane your neck to look up at her, as she is standing directly over you now. 

“You aren’t… making fun of me, are you?” Brienne asks wearily. Her eyes are guarded, her chin trembles. There are dried tear tracks running down her reddened cheeks and you suddenly feel your thumb twitch, wishing you could raise your hand to her face to wipe them away.

“Brienne…” a soft sigh escapes your lips, you reach out a hand and lace her fingers in your own. A blush blooms across your cheeks as you mull over your next words.

“I have long admired you, my oldest and fondest friend, you know this. Seeing you tonight…” your voice catches in your throat. Brienne watches you curiously, cheeks pink, blonde lashes fluttering lightly in the way you so desperately loved.

“You look beautiful.” You scratch at your neck, eyes darting to the ground. “I was terribly jealous of those stupid boys and their castles. I wished it could’ve been me, dancing with you. You know, in a way, I have always been yours.”

A low chuckle breaks the silence and your gaze snaps up to meet Brienne’s.

“And I have always been yours, Y/N,” she says, a smile finally tugging at the corners of her mouth.

You release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“If that is so, then may I kiss you now, my lady?”

Brienne snorts at the formality, then finds herself nodding shyly.

You push yourself up onto your toes and tilt your head back and Brienne leans down, meeting you halfway to brush your lips together in a soft, chaste kiss. Her scent envelops you, fresh cut grass and the soap from the bath houses blending with the salty sea air, and no amount of pining over Brienne could have prepared you for this moment. For the feeling of finally coming home.

“Well since this is a ball, and it would be a shame for our gowns to go to waste, what do you say, Lady Brienne? Would you like to dance with me?” You grin up at her, giddy and lightheaded.

“There’s no one I’d rather dance with. I think this will be my favorite dance of the evening,” Brienne smiles widely and snakes her arm around your waist, allowing you to rest your head against her chest as you sway to a rhythm only the two of you can feel.

[destinyc1020]

girl but what did you think about keke and zendaya? What do you think happened between them. There is a coldness there that I am getting from keke but idk why. Keke is friends with everyone esp everyone black who started on Disney and shit. It’s weird. What do you think

Girl, I'm almost afraid to even say anything on here regarding this, because I kind of feel like all it's going to do is just spark a heated Keke vs. Zendaya debate in my inbox, so that's why I've been kind of avoiding answering asks about this topic. 🙃 😬 👀

But, what I will say is that my opinion still remains. While I do think that Keke is amazing (always loved her) and is super successful, I just don't think she's on the Zendaya level of fame and success.... YET.

I mean, Zendaya is a 2x Emmy winner, has tons of high-end brand deals, trends on Twitter just for breathing, has been an EP since her teens, models, works with super famous actors and directors, has walked the red carpet at the Oscars several times, and is on a one-name fame basis.

I meannnnn.... I just think she's more famous and successful. Now, some people will argue that fame level doesn't always equal "success", and that's true, but the two usually go hand in hand.

With that said, I don't feel the need to have to compare these two lovely women at all. 🥰 They are both beautiful, amazing, and successful. Keke is an author, has been a TV host, had her own talk show, has worked with great actors over the years, and is very recognizable on her own right. I think people sleep on Keke because she is usually doing more comedic stuff, but when she speaks, you can tell that she's VERY articulate, smart, and explains herself well.

I can def understand her frustration with being compared to Zendaya though, and being put in a box and made part of an argument that she doesn't think she fits into. I totally understand how frustrating that can be, and I don't think she's wrong in feeling that way at all. Your feelings are your feelings.

With that said, I don't think we can just turn a blind eye and pretend that colorism (and, by extention, racism!) doesn't play a HUGE role in Hollywood. 👀

I think Keke is downplaying it because when the tweet came out, it was really bad timing (I'll admit), and because it makes her out to be a victim (or less-than) which is NOT a title she wants to wear, and not something she sees herself as. I totally understand that 100%. 💯

At the same time though, I don't think the fan who made that tweet realized just how offensive they came across. If anything, I think they were actually trying to give Keke a compliment in a way. They were basically saying that based on the starting careers of BOTH actresses, and the obvious talent of BOTH of these women, Keke really should have had a better trajectory career-wise in Hollywood overall. I actually agree with that.

What I think Zendaya excels at however, is that while she has biracial privilege (which, she already acknowledges), she's ALSO just played the Hollywood game much better (imo), and has been VERY strategic in her career choices.....and I kind of feel like people don't realize just how important that is in the long run. There are plenty of UNtalented people out here getting really famous and getting roles simply because they know how to play the game better. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Anyway, those are my personal two cents on the issue.

I think Keke explained herself beautifully, and I like both actresses and love to see them win. 🥰❤️

NOTE: I will NOT answer any rude or hateful asks about this topic in my inbox, so if you have something constructive to add to this conversation, please do so in a respectful way, and I will gladly answer you. 😊🙏🏾