jam it in until you hit brain


taeyong doesn’t think anything can surprise him anymore, but he stands corrected when his new stylist steals his heart from right under his nose.

pairing: taeyong x reader / word count 7k
genre: makeup artist!o/c, idol verse, tooth rotting fluff, i am trash pass it on
– tagging @workofteaguk for accompanying me through the ride of falling for lee taeyong. lov u tractor!

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Fixing It (Part 2- Jughead X reader ft Archie Andrews)

Request:Please make part 2 of fixing it!!!part 1 was amazing I love ur writing :) !Are you gonna do a part 2 of the jughead imagine???

Warnings: Some heavy make out sesh ;)

Word Count: 1682

A/N: Yooooo, here’s part 2 and don’t fret, there will be ATLEAST another 2 parts coming your way….soonish :) Now on with the show.

You hadn’t spoken to Jughead for a few weeks after your argument. Every time you saw him you would duck or turn the other way. Every time he sat down near you in class, you would get up and move somewhere else. You had taken to sitting in the student lounge during lunch so you wouldn’t have to see his face.
His face.
You missed his face.
You groaned and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your temples to soothe the headache that had started to form. You missed Jughead, you couldn’t deny that but what he said hurt, it hurt deeper then breaking up with him. You had lost your parents 3 years ago, your Mum to cancer and your dad to a heart attack 3 weeks later. You had spent countless days and nights crying to Jughead about it. You had moved to Riverdale to live with your Auntie a few weeks later and had met Jughead about a month later when you had tried to run away and found yourself at the Twilight drive-in. You snuck in and watched the movie from the small hill behind all the cars, Jughead had done the same and you bonded over your love of writing, watching old movies and sarcasm. “Hey, you’re (Y/N) right?” A voice said, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked up and saw a ginger haired boy standing above you. A guitar case slung over his shoulder and a football helmet under the other. You looked at him sideways “You must be Archie Andrews and yes, I am (Y/N).” Archie grinned and placed the football helmet on the table in front and sat down next to you. “So, I know you are dating Jughead and so…” “Were” you interjected. Archie nodded realising his mistake “You were dating Jughead but he hasn’t stopped talking about you and he mentioned that you can sing and the way he said it made you sound like a freaking nightingale or something and I need a female voice for this song that I wrote and I was wondering if you could help me…. please.” He said. You leant back and peered at him with raised eyebrows. “You do realise that I’m Jughead’s ex-girlfriend and you are Jughead’s best friend…right?” You question him. Archie nods and replies “Yeah, I know it’s going to be weird but Jughead doesn’t really mind and I really need someone to sing this song with and I don’t know anyone else.” You narrow your eyes at Archie and he looks at you questioningly. “Fine but if this song makes heaps of money in the future, you have to give me at least half.” You say. Archie laughs “We’ll see.” He says, standing up. “So, I’ll see you this weekend, here’s my number in case you need to reschedule or something.” He says, ripping a piece of paper off a flyer on the table and scribbling down his number on it. You thank him and enter the number in your phone. You pick up your bag and make your way out of the lounge and into the carpark. You swing your bag to your chest and open it, fishing for your car keys. You find them and look up, straight into the eyes of Jughead Jones. You sigh and keep walking past him, moving slightly so he couldn’t grab you to stop you or even touch you. You get to your car and quickly drive out of the carpark, not looking back to see Jughead’s face, filled with sorrow and pain.

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You're His Weakness...

This is a JokerxReader.


Your P. O. V

“Well, what do we have here?” I asked, walking into the abandoned warehouse in only a drapey white tee. Took a few twenty of em’ but my men got The Clown Prince Of Crime sober in a metal stretcher. “Awe, what’s the matter, Mister. J?” My hands hit the surface of it, but he doesn’t flinch. Too bad. My (Y/H/C) hair flows down my shoulder and some of his “Damaged” tattoo. “Ah said uh machine gun.. not an abduction, Doll–” I cut him off by placing my finger against his red lips and said:

“Shh, Billy Boy… Momma didn’t say you could talk, did I?”

A growl sounded in his throat and I giggled, almost falling to the floor of how humorous I thought this to be. I thought: “I’m soo dead”, knowing I’d be punished severely after this.  "So what? Ya gonna kill me, Sweets?“ He asked, “Of course, but not until after I’m done playing with you” I giggle. “Say ‘ahh’..” I mocked, jamming the belt in his mouth, “I wouldn’t wanna break those sexy silver teeth uh yours… when the juice hits your brain”.

[Should I continue…]