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whitexwolfxx310 · 6 months ago

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|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Part 2.

Pairing: Dom!Bucky x Sub!female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level. The reveal!

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, unprotected sexual intercourse (p in v), don't forget no glove no love, edging, asphyxiation, fingering, mild dirty talk, language, praise kink, masked man kink, stalking, harassment, implied harm, breaking in.

Word Count: 5.4

A/Ns: Hi babes! Sorry this took an extra day than intended. Tumblr is being super finicky tonight, I’ve edited and re-edited this so many times. If there’s mistakes just ignore. I hope you like the conclusion!

In case you missed it, Part 1

You didn’t sleep much the next couple of nights, and decided to take some time off of work. Bucky finally reached out, and you updated him as to what was going on. He immediately offered to come home, which you refused and started to downplay the situation.

Hailee has been great with letting you borrow some clothes and little things, since you only grabbed a small bag in a rush before heading to her place to stay a few days ago. You’ve been dreading going back to the apartment, scared to find someone in there waiting for you. But it’s at the point where you need to grab some of your stuff.

Walking into the apartment, it was eerily quiet and uncomfortable. But nothing looked out of place, and was exactly how you left it. Deciding not to spend any longer there than you had to, you promptly tossed a large duffle bag onto your bed and started stuffing it with clothes and any other necessities.

Zipping the duffle closed, you felt a light gust of cool air. Scanning your bedroom window assuming it was the source, you realize it’s open. You never open this window. In fact, it’s always locked. All of the hair on the top layer of your skin stands up to the extent it almost feels like tiny pinpricks. Flight mode is instantly activated; before you can even think, you grab the bag and run, practically tripping over your own feet out of the room.

Grappling with the door knob, the pure panic starts to set in. Just as you’re twisting the knob open, you hear a distant bang coming from another room in the apartment. You freeze at the realization:

I’m not alone.

You know when you’re watching a scary movie and yell at the tv, wondering why the one of the characters was so fucking stupid to do something?

Well, you did exactly that. What possessed you in that moment, you haven’t the faintest idea. But, with your heartbeat pounding in your ears so loudly that you thought your eardrums might rupture, you started to turn around to look.

What primitively catches your attention isn’t what you expected, but quickly makes your chest tighten. The fruit bowl on the kitchen counter that is normally overflowing with lucious, red delicious apples, now just has all apple cores.

The flashback of one being on left on the countertop after Bucky had left blazes in your mind. It suddenly makes sense. Bucky would never leave a mess and it wasn't long after that you saw someone outside your window.

Attempting to swallow the growing dryness in your throat, you continue to turn around. And that's when you see him for the first time. About fifteen feet away, stood an obviously immensely tall man. He wore thick, black shiny leather boots that gleamed lightly in the natural daylight within the apartment. Fitted black jeans with a loose, black hooded sweatshirt that failed to hide how muscular and broad his chest and shoulders were with the hood pulled up.

But two things stuck out the most about his appearance. First, was the tight, black leather gloves he wore on his hands that were currently clenched into rigid fists. The second, was the fact that you couldn't make out his face. All you could see was an elongated paleness, caverned by the blackness of the hood, and it seemed... sinister. He didn't move or make a sound. It was as if you would blink and he would be gone, like a cloud of smoke.

But if anyone was going to disappear, it was going to be you. So taking a chance, you ran. And you didn't stop running. Even with the faint vibration in your pocket alerting you to the new text notification on your phone, you kept going.

It wasn't until you got back to Hailee's place and frantically, out of breath explained to her, that you even remembered about the text message.

"Here," You toss the phone in pure detestation onto her bed, "I don't even want to fucking know what it says." You lean against the opposite wall of her bedroom, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to control the body shakes as you come down from the adrenaline.

Hailee watches you for a brief moment, still not having said much aside from asking if you were okay. Her expression was soft and sympathetic and yet had an dissenting undertone. You couldn't blame her, this all sounded absolutely insane.

Letting out a small, exasperated breath, Hailee sits on her knees from her previous crossed legged position and grabs your cell. As the screen comes to life, her teeth clench down reading whatever is on the screen.

“What?” The concern is evident in your voice as you pry away from the wall, though still holding onto yourself.

Hailee inhales deeply through her nostrils, faking a tightlipped smile, “it’s nothing,” her tone is flat. She’s lying. Clicking the sleep button on the side of the phone to make the screen go black, she makes her way off the bed, “hey, how about we head down to the cellphone store and get you a new phone and number?” She asks, trying to sound like her usual carefree self as she grabbed her crossbody bag.

“Hailee,” you uncross your arms and step in front of her, forcing her to make eye contact, “what is it?”

Searching your eyes, you can see that she is torn. She wants so badly to do the right thing, but isn’t sure what exactly that is in this situation. On one hand, she could just keep it to herself. Let the unknown and curiosity eat you alive from the inside out like it inevitably will. But only because she wants to protect you, shield you from anything that brings you the opposite of joy. Or, she can show you what you’re actually dealing with, and the two of you can come up with a plan and handle it together. Hailee decides on the latter.

Hesitating, her hand shakes slightly as she holds out the phone to you. It appears that now both of you will take this predicament more critically now. Grabbing the phone a tad more aggressively then you meant to, you unlock it and open the messages. But it's not often Hailee gets rendered quiet. Scrolling through the back to back texts, you understand why.

Taking your best friends advice, you immediately went to the cell phone store. She tagged along as you got a completely new phone and number, not transferring anything over, not wanting to take the risk. You didn't download any social media, deciding to take a much needed mental break for a bit. The only thing you did do, was take a few phone numbers that you needed out of your old phone, and even then you wrote them down on a piece of paper to manually add them into your contacts later.

Walking out of the store, you felt as if a weight had been lifted. Hailee locked arms with you, leading you around the corner to the nearest cafe to get iced coffee. It was her answer for everything. Bad day? Iced coffee. Need a pick me up? Iced coffee. Need to clear your head and just ramble about random shit for a bit? Iced coffee. Your best friend has an apparent stalker and we're hoping that changing phone numbers is the end all solution?! Obviously, iced coffee.

Sitting at a small table outside the cafe, enjoying the slight crispness in the fall air, you let out a huge, relieving sigh that makes your shoulders sink. You take the opportunity to add Bucky to your contacts and text him your new number. Although, you decide not to go into detail about your most recent encounter while he's still away on a mission.

Putting the phone down on the table and not have it incessantly go off with calls and texts, let's you feel as though you can finally breathe. "Thank you for coming with me, Hales, I really appreciate you."

Hailee is sucking the remnants of her drink through the straw as she looks up at you. She gives you a small, genuine side smile, "you're welcome," before smirking, "so I'm supposed to have a date tonight, with that guy Noah I've been seeing..." she leaves it open ended. "But, I should totally cancel after everythi-"

"No, please. Go out and have fun. You've been dealing with my shit enough," trying to make your words sound affirming, even with the lingering dread that you still felt.

That's one thing about Hailee. You never quite really have to twist her arm to do anything.

After showering and changing into your comfy jeans and oversized cropped sweater, it was hard not to feel the slightest tinge of jealousy watching Hailee do her finishing touches for date night in the mirror. Jealousy in the sense of missing Bucky and going out and having a carefree night, not in comparing yourself physically.

She swipes yet another layer of clear lip gloss on before fluffing her beach wave blonde hair. Turning to face you, her thick heels clack on the wooden floor as she starts adjusting her boobs in her sleek, dusty rose colored dress.

"What do you think?" Her hands glide down over her curves, "Dress is okay?"

"That dress is fire," and it is, she looks amazing. By the smile she's wearing, she's feeling it too, "too bad it's going to end up on Noah's floor ten minutes into your date." Hailee dramatically gasps, as if that's not true. It totally is.

You're both laughing until she abruptly stops, "I have to go!" She gives you a quick hug and starts scurrying towards the door, a bit awkwardly in the heels, "Bye! Love you! Lock the door!" As she goes to close the door behind her she yells back in, "don't read too much smut on your kindle while I'm gone!" and the door slams.

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you lock the door. Hailee just gave you the perfect idea of how to spend your night.

About an hour had gone by, you comfortably laid in Hailee's spare bed, a few chapters deep into your latest book. It was quiet, so when your phone vibrated on the bed next to you- you jumped slightly. Assuming it was Bucky finally having the chance to text you back, you pick it up fairly quickly. But the message you received isn't what you expected at all.

Before even unlocking the phone, you had a text alert from Unknown. There was nothing written, but all the way to the right of the alert, you could see a picture was included.

Promptly, you sat up in the bed and stared at the notification. That familiar wave of unease dispersed throughout your body as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head.

This phone number is only a few hours old, how the fuck did he get it already?

The notification banner and you were in a staredown. You had to know what the message was, but you were absolutely terrified at the same time. Your thumbs hover, occasionally twitching over the screen, until you pull the trigger and swipe up.

Us. Hailee...

Driving to your apartment, you broke nearly every single traffic law that there is. The entire time you tried calling Hailee’s phone back to back, just repeating the same mantra; please pick up. Please, please pick up. She never did.

“Hailee!!” You run through your apartment door, not having to mess with it for long as it was already unlocked. You had a feeling it would be. “Answer me!” You yell, breathlessly. The apartment is eerily dark and quiet.

Coming to a halt in the main living space, you whipped your head around looking for clues and try to listen for any signs of distress. But it was so difficult to hear anything over your own breathing and pulse drumming in your ears.

You knew where you had to go, the last picture of your friends dress laid out on your bedspread was the roadmap. The bedroom door was just barely closed over, a creepy orange glow lining it and trying to escape from underneath. Each step closer that you took, felt as if a large spider made entirely of ice was crawling down your spine.

Pushing the door open slightly with just a fingernail, you peered into the room. You knew this is exactly where this person wanted you. For what? There’s only one way to find out.

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room, so you took a few small steps in. The glow was more prominent now, giving the room an uncanny romantic ambiance with numerous amount of white candles lit all along the dressers, night tables, and bookshelves.

Taking a broad step forward, your attention is now focused on the bed. Hailee's dress is no longer laid out like it had been in the picture. Instead, there are flower petals sprinkled across your comforter. The intriguing curiosity drew you even more into the room without you even realizing. Picking up one of the petals, you rub it between your fingers, feeling it's supple and delicate smoothness as you examine it more closely. In that moment you recognize it- the familiarity of it's dark appeal. They're black dahlia petals.

Some of the petals congregated in one particular area on the bed, revealing an elegant, black gift box about the size of a large book. Your lips part slightly as you pick up the box, captivated by it's alluring magnetism. Taking off the lid, your brows furrow slightly in confusion. It's a chain. A long, thick slip chain that looks like a necklace but almost long enough to be a leash.

As your finger smoothes over the cold indentations of the chain, you hear a creak come from the floor behind you. In a startled jump, you drop the box- a slight ringing sound deafens the scene even more from the chain hitting the floor. But that's not your concern. Because as you turn around, you see him.

Within arms reach, you are confronted with the person that's been behind all of this. He's even taller up close, broader. Dressed in all black attire, this time swapping the black hoodie for a black t-shirt and black leather jacket. And without the hood, you're able to see the elongated white face from earlier.

It's a Ghostface mask.

He stands as still as a statue, watching you intently, waiting. Your eyes persist in looking him over as your chest rises and falls deeply. When your gaze meets his face once again, his head creepily tilts ever so slightly to one side.

"What's the matter?" He speaks, his voice deep and low, "you look like you've seen a ghost," the tone almost mocking.

Squinting your eyes, you look at him again. And this time you really look at him. His body frame, the clothes, the familiarity of his voice. Your eyes widen at the realization.

"Bucky?" you gape, completely stupefied. Taking the first fearless step in what feels like months, you wrap your arms around him. He returns the sentiment and you feel safe, for the first time in what feels like forever. It suddenly dawns on you that he's not actually on a mission. And probably never was.

"What- What is this?" You ask, looking up at him, slightly pushing the mask up to reveal his stubbled chin and promiscuous grin.

"There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it..." He repeats back the words you said to him a few months ago watching the Scream movie.

The memory of you how you told him about this kink of yours curls around your mind. That this entire time, you were never in any kind of serious danger, he just brought it to life. Weeks and months of preparation went into this, here, tonight. You should have known all along that Bucky would never have been so nonchalant about you in any type of significant situation. You're safe. You always were and always will be.

The tiny icy footprints that had trailed up your spine were long gone, now replaced with a burning and tantalizing desire. You've missed him, thinking he was away while you were dealing with this on your own. But now he's here, fulfilling your deepest desires.

Looking up, Bucky's Pacific blue eyes are already gazing down into yours, a built up and unsatisfied hunger prominent. Moving up onto your tiptoes and grabbing him behind the neck, you bring down his head and capture his lips.

Your mouth parted his, gliding and massaging his tongue with your own. A low growl reverberated from within his throat with approval, and promise to make everything up to you tenfold. Bucky's intoxicating cypress scent fills your nostrils as your inhaled deeply, pressing your breasts up into his chest. Taking off the leather gloves and shrugging his jacket onto the floor, his hands started to wildly wander around your body, giving light squeezes on your hips before settling and interlacing gingerly in your hair.

That didn't last long, though. There was a sudden and hard tug from where Bucky held your hair, enough to pull the two of you apart. The aggressiveness of the gesture was unexpected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't fucking love it. His eyes linger on your already swollen lips, now wearing a pursed, provocative grin. His hand releases the tight grip he had on your loose curls, watching the relief from the sting flash across your eyes. Bucky has always been tender, gentle and using your body as a place of worship-but tonight is different.

Grabbing the hem of your sweater, he maneuvers it up and off to join his growing pile of discarded clothes. Dropping to his knees with a loud thud, he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans, pulling them down and weaving his tongue along the freshly exposed skin. Hissing through your teeth, your hips instinctively press forward. He lets out a dark laugh, before grabbing the chain you dropped before. Standing back up, he takes your hand, "Come," he says, leading you towards the cornered edge of the mattress.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his muscular body causes it to sink slightly. His free hand, still holding the chain, grips his own thigh before giving it a light pat, "Sit," he commanded, again keeping that firm edge in his voice that you weren't used to. You enthusiastically follow his orders, sitting delicately facing outward in just your matching ivory lace bra and panties. It's hard not to notice how you just fit. And how much you secretly love his significantly large frame pressed against your much more petite body in comparison to his.

The soft tip of his nose runs along the outside of your neck, his large hands coasting along your shoulders, down your arms, sides, before settling on your thighs. The calluses on his hands leaving a sensational trail of tingles and heat to disperse under your skin.

"Look," his head nods forward once to get your attention, and now you see the reason why he sat you here. In the corner of the bedroom, just a few feet away, is a full length standing mirror angled perfectly to reflect everything.

You see yourself, already flushed with arousal and breathing heavily as you make eye contact with Bucky in the mirror. His devious smile pins you in place as you watch his hands pry open your legs, entrancingly over his. They willingly spread open wide for him, your restless hips now squirming, aching for more. His fingertips trace small circles on your inner thigh.

"I want you to see your face as you fall apart, " he taunted, his voice sultry in your ear, still holding your gaze in the mirror. His middle finger skims across your already embarrassingly dampened panties, causing your back to press against his rigid chest.

There was a vague rattling sound, followed by Bucky placing the large opening of the looped chain over your head and around your neck, “Bucky, what are you doing-” you watch curiously in the mirror. Part of the chain dangles between your breasts, which he wraps around his hand once and slowly starts to pull, causing the loop around your neck to compress.

It’s a choker.

Your eyes go wide, nervousness rippling through you as you grasp his intentions, “Bucky, I don’t know-”

“Do you really think you have a choice?” he barked, pulling the Ghostface mask down back onto his face. Talking to you through the mirror, “I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” he whispers, breaking character for a moment to assure you’re safe.

You nod in response, your reflection visibly eases in the mirror as the necklace slackens around your throat. He lets the chain lax too, for now.

Large hands are back to kneading your thighs, a lone finger brushing between your legs when gravitating along the inside. It’s not long until the sensation has you starting to wriggle once again.

Cupping your sex, his hand gently moves up and down, keeping a firm, yet delicate and delicious pressure. Your greedy hips tilt forward, wanting more from his right hand, while the coolness of his left continues to lazily stroke over your skin. But when that icy touch quickly grabs and tears your underwear off in one jolt, you gasp at the tiny bite the ripping cloth left behind.

Now you’re left wide and exposed- to yourself, to Bucky, to the reflections of yourselves staring intensely, watching every movement. The warmth of his hand is back, leisurely gliding two fingers between your already achingly wet pussy. Swallowing hard, your breath hitches as you can not only feel, but see, yourself start to lose composure.

Bucky pulls the two fingers away, holding them up just to your mouth, "wet them for me," he instructs, his voice silk like satin. Taking the two fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirled rapidly around the digits, savoring the salty-sweetness of your arousal. Slowly pulling them back out, you see them shine with your saliva.

Something comes over you in that moment, call it gluttonous, but you pool some extra moisture into your mouth and spit onto the fingers. Just for good measure.

There's a murmured hum of approval in your ear as he spreads your folds, teasing your increasingly sensitive clit between his two fingers. And getting Bucky's praise will only enhance the entire night. Your legs quiver at the deliberate sluggish pace, letting out shaky breaths as the overwhelming throbbing demands more attention.

Finally, the pads of those fingers start to rub your bundle of nerves in unhurried circles. Gripping onto his thigh to steady yourself, your nails clutching his jeans, a whine escapes as your hips try to buck against his hand.

That dark laugh is in your ear again, "good girls don't come until I tell them too," Bucky breathes, overly indulging in how you respond to his touch. It feels like torture, in the best possible way. The combination of his words and caress... you have never felt this good. This wanted.

Your head falls back slightly against his shoulder in small disappointment, whimpering, knowing that he's going to make you beg. And you're getting desperate enough to do so.

The leisurely pace of his fingers picks up, causing your back to arch away from his chest as you start panting. Each swipe building pleasure, layer on top of agonizing layer. Finding yourself in the mirror again, you unapologetically watch as your body vigorously writhes against his hand, your moans spilling from your mouth more and more.

"How badly do you want to come, princess?" The Ghost breathed, his chest rising and falling heavily now, trying to fight off his own desire, evident from the hard protrusion you keep rolling your hips against.

"S-so bad... Please! Please," you pleaded, not caring how desperate it sounds. Adding some additional pressure, your hips stutter. Your breathing practically stops as your moans transform into one long, drawn out strangled whine as you come apart, "O-ooh...oh my god. Oh god!"

Not even fully coming down from the repeated waves, you hear, "God's not here," growled into your ear. In one sudden movement, Bucky stands up with you in his arms before tossing you onto the bed, "just me.” the low rumble emits from his chest. Ripping off the mask, he kneels on the bed and uses his left arm to support his weight. Using those same damned two fingers, he plunges them into your drenched pussy, siphoning a sound from your throat that’s unrecognizable.

“Again,” Bucky breathes, his eyes glazed over with a new kind of wickedness as they lock into yours, “Come for me again. I fucking love all the sounds you make,” With his palm face up, his fingers start pumping you from the inside, running over your g-spot in a come here motion.

Since there was no remission from your last orgasm, the tightness in your belly never fully went away. Watching Bucky, seeing him in the tight black t-shirt while his bicep flexes from working you, his slightly furrowed brow and his lips slightly parted in determination, you could feel it building up once again.

Feeling your walls contract around him, he grinned. He changes his hand motions to going in a frantic up and down movement, and if you know, you know. Your rasped whimpers became silent as you forgot how to breathe and your vision blurred. The build up came on so fast and so strong, the only sound in the room was your ever increasing wetness.

Your mouth dropped open into a silent O, not able to think not a single coherent thought, "Thaaat's it..." Bucky coaxed, "I want you to gush all over my fucking hand," and with his words, your body quivers as you completely shatter with a loud cry. "Goood girl. God, what a good fucking girl," he soothes. You winced slightly as he pulled out his fingers, collapsing back more into the bed as you try to rein in remembering how to breathe. Bucky sits back on his knees, and almost entirely up to his elbow is glistening with how hard you just came.

With a flat tongue, he presses it to his palm, and licks all the way up to the tip of his middle finger, "Perfect," Bucky hums in satisfaction to himself. Your throat goes dry at the sight, being the cherry on top of all the mouth breathing you've been doing. Am I fucking dreaming?

Pushing his jeans down to his knees, his thick, flushed cock rebounds out of his boxers. Bucky grabs you by the hips, pulling you down the bed before flipping you over onto all fours. Each of his hands grabs a fistfull of your ass, before slapping one side. You moan at the bite of the smack, feeling delusional from needing him inside you so badly. He rubs the reddened cheek before dropping a teeth grazed kiss on the sensitive skin.

There's a coolness between your legs, and you realize that it's your juices sliding down your thighs. Not needing any preparation, you feel the tip of Bucky's fat cock lining up to slide into your tight little slit. He rubs the head up and down, lubricating just enough to push himself in. As he started to sink into you, it took every bit of will you had not to collapse as you felt his slight struggle to get in.

"Fuck, you're tight," he sighs. But truth be told, he's just that big. As if he had a direct roadmap, he slides in effortlessly right to the hilt, poking the sweetest spot of all making you choke out a sob, "You can take it, can't you angel?" He breathes huskily, amusement draped around the words as he dragged his cock back maliciously slow, letting you feel the ridge of each vein, every delectable centimeter of his length.

You feel your eyes roll closed, enjoying the all consuming sensation. With one quick thrust all at once, Bucky simultaneously yanks on the chain of the forgotten choker forcing your eyes open with a loud cry to find him glaring at you in the mirror, "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he reprimanded, in a subdued yet stern voice.

He started to move in a merciless rhythm, keeping the chain taut in one of the hands that clenched your hips. Each thrust delivered not only a delectable deep nudge against your cervix, but a small slap of his balls to your achingly sensitive clit. The combination of internal and external stimulation has you singing your own personal explicit cry, almost on the verge of tears with the intensity.

It's almost cruel the way that he fucks you, like he's dismantling you piece by piece, mentally, physically, emotionally. Never have you been treated like such a prize possession and a cheap whore at the same time. Your walls flutter around his cock, swallowing him needing moremoremore. You're body's accepted that this pussy is Bucky's. It's meant for him. It was made for him.

In the reflection you can see Bucky wet his lips, his eyes darting between yours and your ass bouncing off of his snapping hips. He continues to murmur soft, filthy praises as he fucks another orgasm from you. The choker tensed as you came, making the edges of your vision blurry- your walls clenching so tightly, causing each stroke to become more intense than the next. After you completely shattered, the chain went slack once again.

Manhandling you one last time, Bucky lays back flat on the bed and positions you to straddle him. You shake your head in an almost delirious state, "I-I can't. Buck, I-" you whisper, thoroughly cock drunk, "I can't," you pleaded.

"Yes you can, angel," his hands glide over your sweat coated thighs, a lecherous expression on his face. You nod ever so slightly, because even as spent and exhausted as you feel, you want to see him come apart. You want to look down into his eyes as joins you in the fucked out bliss.

You grab the base of his cock, using it to align yourself before sliding back down on top of him. Bucky's eyes widen, watching intensely as your bodies joined one another. All the air releases out of his lungs at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him all the way in- deeper, your thighs already trembling. His hands clench your hips as your they start to grind back and forth.

His ab muscles flex under your nail piercing grasp- that pressure once again starting to build. He's just so deep, you're still just so wet from coming 3 times in a row, and now his wide tip is nestled so perfectly against your cervix that each motion of your body feels like you're going to spontaneously combust and die. But there's no way that heaven could be better than this. Those painfully beautiful sapphire blue eyes filled with an rapacious hunger that only you can fulfill.

You're mouth opens in attempt to say his name like a prayer, or something as equally dirty, but all that comes out is a sputter of shuddered gasps. Bucky's unapologetically loud moans grow more frequent, turning into their own long, drawn out beautiful melody, "fuck," he whispers, "that's so good."

Leaning down, chest to chest, you capture his lips in yours- swallowing those gorgeous sounds. Bucky takes this opportunity to thrust his hips up, massaging your inner walls as you push back against him. The loud smacking of flesh borderline drown out the sounds of both your orgasms, but you could feel the vibration from deep within Bucky's throat through the kiss. Rope after rope, you could feel his warmth emptying inside of you.

The strokes became laguid as he maintained the kiss- Bucky's hands cupping your face gently, which was such a dichotomy compared to the way he fucked you tonight. You finally pull your lips apart, collapsing fully on top of his body. Laying in silence, all you can hear is each other's ragged breathing and the drumming of his heart in your ear against his chest.

"I am... never getting rid of that fucking mask," Bucky chuckles lightly.

"Just so you know," you prop your chin up on your palm, "there's 5 other movies in the franchise."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist.

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zaynesbeloved · 4 months ago

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(our man really loves boobies, gotta write something about it... also for @unluckywisher , I was the person so said gonna write a drabble of zayne love for boobs-)

does zayne love your boobs?

yes, he does very much.

in fact....

zayne wants nothing more than to bury his head into your chest whenever the two of you are alone.

tired from work? he wants to use your chest as a pillow.

rainy days? let him snuggle your breast to keep the two of you warm.

feeling sore? zayne would gladly massage your body, including your chest.

heck maybe he even slip in some special service and unclip your bra so he can touch your breast directly.

just that? of course not. there's nothing more he enjoyed than giving you pleasure, especially with how hard you work everyday. so obviously, it's normal for him as your lovers to reward you after such a long day right?

zayne already loves your breast a lot, so it was already a reward for him to be able to play with your soft chest.

he loves holding your mound in his hand, satisfied with how soft it felt and how snug your chest look in his grasp.

the way you would gasp quietly when he massage them? it's such an adorable reaction that his brain would record it and replay it when he misses you.

or maybe the way you would whimper when he put your nipple in his mouth? the way you moan softly when his tongue roll around your areola? and then the way you would yelp and whine when he suddenly bite your nipple while squeezing the other one in between his fingers? he loves all of that. who knows maybe he even obsessed with it.

of course he would only do all that if he had your consent and only if you enjoy it.

but I mean who wouldn't?

years of being a surgeon made him have such a skilled hand that he can pleasure you with. his fingers alone can make you cry his name out in the middle of the night, whether it be on your breast or in your quivering cunt.

sometimes zayne would punish you with his love for your soft mound when you misbehave.

playing with your breast for hour and hour, leaving you a moaning mess and breathless with your cunt wet and untouched.

zayne wouldn't touch your needy pussy unless you really learned your mistake. (he doesn't mind playing with your chest forever tbh)

actually, it's not a rare occasion for you to cum with your pussy untouched and only had zayne playing with you breast for hours.

don't forget, he loves to leave soft kisses on your chest, along with some mark while whispering, "this beautiful breast of yours is mine only love." against the skin of your chest.

zayne personally think your chest is always beautiful. but the mark he left never fail to make it even prettier than it already is.

your nipple? it's not surprising then you often find them quite red and bruised with how much zayne love sucking them.

honestly if you consented to it, you would often wake up with zayne softly molding your breast while sucking your nipples like a baby.

but then again, zayne is already content and grateful for you to allow him to massage (play) with your breast from time to time~

#lily writes #love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #lads smut #lads zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne smut #zayne x reader #zayne x reader smut #zayne x you #zayne x y/n

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jenscx · 5 months ago

Text

GIRLS / GIRLS / BOYS — kim minjeong x f!reader

kim minjeong’s your best friend. you love her, obviously. but when did loving her become being in love with her?

TAGS — fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, highschool au, popular!minjeong, insecure reader, unrequited love, pining, slight sunghoon x reader, bisexual!minjeong, mentions of alcohol, cursing

WORDCOUNT — 6.4k

you had a type; delicate and gorgeous girls that definitely caused trouble, contrasting their looks. your ideal type comes in the form of kim minjeong, a girl that fits both the looks and personality. she was a cold beauty, one that you fawn over. her aloof and indifferent remarks in class, no doubt was the tipping point for you.

if she was a spider, you were a fly, one that gladly flew into her web of lies.

kim minjeong was an enigma— somehow keeping up her appearance as this visually appalling girl who would do no wrong, despite her actions.

“y/nnie,” minjeong’s enthralling voice whispers in your ear, “do you need help with that?”

that refers to the sheet of music you were currently holding. marked notes scribbled all over the paper, words like melody, accompaniment filled into the lines.

“ah… yes please.”

she’s enchanting, you think. minjeong leans over slightly, a small smile on her face. her now newly dyed blonde hair covers a portion of her face, only allowing you to gaze at her eyes. your own eyes trail down, from the crease in her forehead to the tip of her nose. it follows further down, to her glossy red lips, pouting at the sheet music.

“you made a mistake here,” the girl points out. her hazel eyes turn to you, crinkling into a smile, “y/n?”

you’re at a loss of words. normally, you had a lot of things to say, that’s why you joined the school’s debate club. but with minjeong? her beauty leaves you speechless.

“oh, thanks.”

“no problem,” minjeong checks the time, “hey, i gotta go. jiminie asked me to meet her for lunch.” you nod, snapping out of your delusions when minjeong refers to the volleyball captain with a nickname.

stop that, your brain says, she’s your best friend.

and your brain is right. kim minjeong will only ever be a friend. she wouldn’t be anything else, because she should settle for anything else. no doubt that she was someone who played with people’s feelings, but to her, you were off-limits.

without a best friend, who would she have?

and without her, who would you have?

kim minjeong was an enigma, yes, but she was also your best friend and coincidentally, the love of your life.

she was someone you dedicated songs to. the pining, unwillingness to admit your feelings, not being able to move on. as cliche as it sounds, you could not rid your feelings for her. how could you ever forget someone like kim minjeong? the crinkle in her eyes, the way she lights up when she sees a puppy, the soft gaze she lays on you, could you forget it all? you couldn’t. not in this lifetime, nor the next.

your heart automatically followed wherever she went. if minjeong decided one day that she wanted to uproot and migrate to europe, you would follow willingly. she was just someone that you would do anything for.

like pretending that you didn’t like chocolate just so you could give yours to minjeong. your teacher had a habit of giving out chocolate when you did well on a test, some sort of prize to be awarded for your hard work. you couldn’t resist minjeong’s puppy look towards the basket of chocolate and ended up pulling an all-nighter just to get a good mark for some chocolate.

it was all worth it though, the look on minjeong’s face when you handed her the bar.

(“don’t you like chocolate though?” she had asked warily.

“no, i don’t like eating sweet stuff,” you lied through your teeth.)

the look of happiness she had when you handed her a chocolate bar is something you would do anything to keep on her. minjeong makes you feel things— relief, exhilaration, excitement. she makes you feel vulnerable. she makes you feel human, alive. her presence in your life was the only reason you could live through each day. kim minjeong gives you strength, and is your weakness.

fingertips graze your elbow, slow touches trace the shape of your arm. a soft smile on minjeong’s face, you can only stare.

her gaze quickly darts away, smile brightening even more than it did with you. you follow her starry-eyed gaze, your heart breaking slightly when it landed on park sunghoon, the school’s star ice skater. he was somewhat like kim minjeong, quiet, unassuming and blessed with jaw-dropping features. another crack forms when you imagine the two of them together, because they do look good.

fate must be playing with you, since sunghoon turns around, an eyebrow raised at you two. you avoid his gaze while minjeong holds it. he must have left rather swiftly, since your best friend sighs dreamily and continues her rant about her new project partner.

your fists clench, forcing a smile onto your face as you listen to her. minjeong’s words barely enter your ears, since you’re too focused on that starstruck look in her eyes when she noticed sunghoon. you couldn’t blame her, he was a perfect match for her. it was only normal for her to gravitate to someone on par with her.

the background noise blurs, only the ringing alarms in your head existed at that moment. everything suddenly clicks. it’s like the universe has aligned perfectly for one second.

minjeong stares at you, worried. you barely said anything in response to her venting, only nodding and humming. your eyes were far cast, almost droopy.

“you good?” she reaches out to hold your hand.

you turn to her, shifting from her touch.

“yeah, just thinking.”

“about?” she questions.

no reply leaves your lips. it’s silent for a few moments. if anyone else saw the desperate look in your eyes, they would only feel sympathy. it was so damn frightening. frightening that there’s no guarantee you would be loved. frightening that the only person you would give anything for, would only leave you in the end.

“thinking about life.”

you didn’t know which was more tragic; the fact that you keep looking for minjeong everywhere you go, or the fact that she won’t be there one day to welcome you. maybe you shouldn’t desire so much. it would only end up hurting you.

“life,” minjeong repeated, “i think it’s pretty cool.”

you don’t respond.

“it’s pretty cool that we’re existing at the same time, together.”

it’s tragic.

“yeah, it is pretty cool,” you murmur, heart clenching into a grip belonging to kim minjeong.

you’re lying to your best friend.

the constant tug of attraction you feel towards minjeong bubbles lowly in your chest. as she converses happily with her other friends, you merely duck into your locker, pretending to be immersed in finding your textbook. you can feel when minjeong’s gaze lands on you. it burns through your skin, shocking your every vein. the bell rings and you sigh heavily. gulping as you try to manoeuvre your way through the crowd of students while simultaneously avoiding minjeong.

this situation (you didn’t know what else to call it), was brought upon by a striking realisation that you were high school seniors and that if you didn’t get your act straight, you would be stuck forever pining after your best friend.

a warm grip on your hand stops you.

“where are you going?” minjeong raises an eyebrow. you mumble, “home.”

“without waiting for me?”

“i… didn’t see you…” you murmur, nervously tugging on your bag strap, slung over your shoulder. your best friend huffs, throwing her own arm around your unoccupied shoulder, “well you’ve seen me now, so let’s go together.”

you freeze up, “i have a lot of homework… i need to rush home.” it was such a stupid excuse.

minjeong frowns. her arm in your shoulder doesn’t radiate the same warmth as before, it only weighs heavily, like the guilt in your heart.

“you’re kinda pale,” she remarks, “are you sure you’re okay?”

nodding, you shy away from her stare.

“you look sick, i don’t think you should walk back alone,” she says, an unfamiliar look on her face. you don’t know what she’s thinking.

you pull away from her embrace, “it’s okay, my mum’s at home. you should go hang out with your other friends.”

minjeong looks away, a flash of hurt shadowing her face before she retracts her hand.

“like who?”

shrugging, you turn away. something about minjeong makes you want to run far from her. the distance would hurt, but it seems that being around her hurt more. would you rather have minjeong as a friend, or not have her at all? you regret even becoming friends with her, it gave you a taste of her everlasting love. one that you would never receive the pleasure of acquiring.

“minjeong!” one of her friends called out.

her head turns and you take this opportunity to widen the distance between you and her.

you recognise this friend. hwang yeji, the vice-captain of the volleyball team. the group of girls behind yeji stare at you strangely. as she approaches, you cower behind your books.

“the girls were talking about the party yunjin’s holding later, just wanted to check if you were coming,” yeji says. minjeong glances at you. her hesitance makes yeji add, “park sunghoon’s going to be there.”

you resist the urge to tell minjeong not to go. your grip on your textbooks tightens.

“uh,” minjeong replies unintelligently, “i— i’m not sure? i don’t think i’ll go. i’ll text you guys later, or something.”

“you sure?”

your best friend turns to you, and she firmly nods, “yeah, i’m not going, i have something else to do.” you tilt your head curiously. minjeong wouldn’t give up the chance to see her crush so easily.

“okay, sure. let me know if you change your mind.”

minjeong waves her away and beams at you, “so, let’s go? i kinda need help with that chemistry homework mr lee just assigned. if you’re willing to help me, of course.”

you don’t have the heart to reject minjeong again. half-heartedly, you heave a sigh, “my house or yours?”

your reluctant agreement makes minjeong’s face light up. like a cute little puppy. she kinda reminds you of your neighbour’s dog.

“yours, obviously, it’s way closer,” minjeong rolls her eyes, bemused, “i missed your mum, is she cooking tonight?”

minjeong grabs ahold of your elbow, clinging onto it like a lifeline.

(she doesn’t know she’s yours.)

“don’t know,” you answer, skin heating up at her contact. your short sentences probably give your true feelings away, minjeong’s touch diminishing by the second. she sighs softly. guilt eats up at you, knowing minjeong would have more fun with her other friends rather than you. it’s all your fault that you can’t control your own feelings.

“what don’t you understand about the homework?” you ask, trying to reduce the awkward tension. minjeong shrugs halfheartedly, “everything. i wasn’t really paying attention during the lesson.”

you giggle at that, imagining your best friend dozing off in class. her head resting against her arm, lips parted and eyelashes fluttering shut. her hair parting perfectly, framing her small face. it wouldn’t be the first time seeing the sight. she would look so vulnerable and soft. sometimes, you want to shield her from the world.

“i finished most of it during lunch,” you tell her. minjeong stares at you incredulously, “you told me you couldn’t eat lunch with me because you were busy studying.”

your eyebrows raise, “is doing homework not studying?”

“well— no! it’s called homework y/n,” minjeong reasons, “you could have done it later and ate lunch with me.”

“then who would help you with your homework?” you retort back. minjeong gapes at you, like a fish out of water. you ignore her, muttering in faux annoyance, “maybe i shouldn’t help you anymore.”

minjeong bolts up, her bag almost smacking you in the face as she grabs onto you, forcing intense eye contact, “no! you have to help me! yizhuo sucks at chemistry and my other friends don’t even bother turning up for class!”

with a pondering look, you face away, pretending to think about what minjeong said.

regardless of your facade, you would always end up agreeing to her. but she doesn’t need to know that.

“please y/n!” minjeong begs, “you’re the only one!”

her words grip your heart, tearing it slightly. masking your bitterness with a smile, you pat her head, “just wanted to hear you say it.”

it’s true. you’ve always wanted to hear those words; minjeong telling you that you’re the only one for her, the only one who she trusts and relies on. you want to be the only one who’s exposed to all of her, the only one who can cause butterflies in her stomach to appear. you want to be her everything, only you, no room for anything else. because that’s what she is to you. your everything.

“you’re so mean!” minjeong whines. it’s adorable. you hate it. pinching her cheeks (and eliciting a small yelp from her), you reply, “you know i like teasing you.”

minjeong nods bashfully, her cheek flushed red from where your fingers previously brushed. she quickly sobers up, dragging you by the wrist. it’s your house, but the way she’s leading you, any stranger could think otherwise.

her fast pace despite her height swiftly brings you back home. you’re greeted by the sight of your mother’s back when you enter the front door. she’s humming cheerfully as she cuts up a variety of fruits.

“mum,” you greet, “minjeong’s here.”

your mother swerves around, she beams instantly when she spots the blonde standing next to you.

“oh, it’s been so long since y/n brought you here!” you glare at your mother, arguing back, “she was literally here last week.”

the older woman pays you no mind as she hugs minjeong, who eagerly returns it, throwing a smirk over your mother’s shoulder towards you. you’re reminded of the fact that your own mother probably prefers your best friend.

“did you get prettier, mum?” minjeong asks, dramatically gasping. your mother, despite being married and twice the age of minjeong, blushes like a schoolgirl. you roll your eyes and drag your best friend away from your mother, lest you witness their innocent flirting. you sigh in relief as the bedroom door slams shut behind you, drowning out the yells from your mother about you dragging minjeong away. your best friend merely snickers and makes herself at home. your eyes follow minjeong as she takes off her blazer and unbuttons her blouse, exposing the sharp angle of her collarbones.

you quickly look away when she sends you a curious stare.

“so,” you clear your throat, “what do you need help with?”

minjeong groans and pulls out her file, pouting as she takes out the worksheet. you sit next to her on the floor, leaning against your bed frame. luckily you had finished the worksheet already and understood the content rather easily.

as you explain the different questions, minjeong writes down notes, focused. you’re surprised at her diligence, normally minjeong would just whine and complain cutely about her homework whenever you would tutor her.

stray strands of baby hair fall against her forehead. she huffs, blowing them slightly. your eyes follow the puff of air.

“do you get it?” you ask softly. minjeong’s eyes flicker up to you, crinkling gratefully, “no, not really, but thanks for trying.”

you laugh, smacking minjeong’s shoulder gently.

“which part didn’t you understand? i’ll repeat it again.”

she merely shrugs, “it’s fine. i think i’m just doomed for chemistry. at least i have some notes now.” your smile fades before forming a frown. usually, she would beg you to keep going. her attitude now was a stark contrast from before. there was something bothering her.

“what’s wrong?”

minjeong glances at you, her lips pursed and unrevealing.

you somehow know what’s bothering her.

“you’re not burdening me, minjeong,” you murmur, “i’m happy to teach you.”

“that’s… i know, but it’s so… frustrating. i feel so stupid next to you. you’re always helping me out and i don’t do anything in return. i feel useless,” minjeong admits bashfully.

being minjeong’s best friend sucks. you hate it. how can someone like minjeong be so insecure beside you? if anything, you should be the one reconsidering your worth to her. the most popular girl in school’s best friend is some lame loser from the debate club. she shouldn’t be feeling like she’s useless. every second she’s on your mind. you would do anything for minjeong. and you wonder if you mean even a semblance to her life.

“you’re my best friend,” is all you can say, “helping you makes me happy.”

minjeong stares at you with wide eyes, tears brimming at the edge. her cheeks become increasingly rosy, tell-tale signs that she’s about to cry.

“you aren’t useless, i’m happy to teach you,” you repeat firmly.

seeing as she still has that defeated look on her face, she doesn’t seem to understand.

“i’m glad that you asked me to teach you. i’m happy that you rely on me for things like these.” you reach out a hand to wipe away the stray tear falling.

minjeong’s reply comes as a whisper, “then why don’t you rely on me too?”

your hand falters.

“i do,” you say in utmost sincerity.

“it doesn’t feel like you do,” she mutters, a pained look flashing across her face. perhaps, in your haste to protect your own feelings of affection, you have forgotten your duties as a friend first.

filled with guilt, you try to muster a comforting smile, “i know i’m closed off and it’s hard to read me,” minjeong nods, sniffling, “but with you, i try my best to be more open.”

maybe it’s a lie. maybe you do the opposite, building even higher walls when it comes to kim minjeong, in fear that she will be the one who breaks them down, allowing easy access to your vulnerability.

“do you really?” minjeong asks softly, distrusting. you can’t say it doesn’t hurt.

“i do, so please don’t say you’re useless.”

(because you're everything to me.)

“the stars would be so proud to know that their atoms created someone like you.” your words, filled with affection and truth. because really, some part of your soul has loved her since the beginning of everything.

“then maybe we’re from the same star,” minjeong replies. like soulmates, the words go unsaid.

“i think i’m okay with that.”

her eyes flicker back to yours, drawing you in with hypnotising big brown orbs. there’s a bubble formed around you, feeling as if time has stopped and all of the universe has aligned for a second. there’s only you and minjeong coexisting now. your hand stills, cradling her soft cheek and stroking it gently with your thumb.

“y/n,” her lips part, whispering your name. it just feels so right coming from her. hearing her voice murmur your name with such intimacy was heaven itself.

this situation is dangerous. you can’t control yourself. minjeong’s hand is resting on your thigh, sending shockwaves throughout your body. you can’t avert your eyes from her face. kim minjeong was too dangerous for you to be around.

with sheer willpower, you finally look away and drop your hand. it hurts to not look at minjeong, but it hurts more when you do, knowing that you will never get to have her like others will. her hand retracts immediately and she turns away.

out of the corner of your eye, you see minjeong hastily wiping the rest of her tears. it’s awkward. the silence and tension is damning.

you don’t know what to even say. you can’t look minjeong in the eye right now. if you did, maybe you would do something you would regret for the rest of your life.

“uh,” minjeong clears her throat and runs her fingers through her golden locks nervously, “i wanted to ask… do you wanna go to that party yeji mentioned?”

“why are you asking me?” you ask, genuinely curious. minjeong has never asked you before, knowing that you would much rather stay home than indulge in a night of dealing with hormonal teenagers in a sweaty crowd.

your best friend shrugs, “just thought since we’re graduating soon… maybe we should go together, for once.”

her words strike something in you. it is your last year, and you haven’t gone to a single party with minjeong. your reasons were that you might get drunk and do something stupid (probably confess to minjeong), and you did not want to potentially see minjeong all over someone. but with the hopeful glint in her eyes, you can’t bring yourself to deny her.

“okay,” you answer meekly, instantly receiving minjeong’s smile. the doubt of going to a party melts away, and instead a warm feeling of adoration sizzles.

maybe going to yunjin’s party won’t be so bad after all.

spoiler alert; it was, for mainly two reasons.

minjeong’s choice of a party fit was dastardly revealing. she probably had more skin than fabric showing, which as a best friend, you totally encourage, but as a best friend who’s also in love with her, it means that your eyes have not left her body since. the cropped white sleeveless top plagues your mind even as minjeong worms her way through the crowd.

your own clothes were tight against your skin, picked out by minjeong, who had spent more time on you than herself.

(“it’s your first time going to a party, y/n. you have to look jaw-dropping,” she had said, hand steadily drawing eyeliner onto you.)

minjeong eventually comes back to you, two drinks in her hands. your eyes snap away from her naked skin of her midriff, exposed by the shortness of her top.

“for you,” she grins, handing a drink to you.

your eyebrows raise.

“soju?”

“yeah, i know you don’t like the hard stuff,” she says, taking a sip of her own cup.

you raise the cup to your lips, tasting the sweet yet dizzy taste. humming in delight, your tongue darts out, cleaning the remnant from your glossy lips. minjeong smiles appreciatively at the sight, glad that you were finally letting loose.

a arm swings to wrap around your shoulder.

“surprised to see you here, y/n!” aeri grins widely, her smile rivalling that of the sun’s.

you settle into her touch, somewhat happy to see a recognisable face amongst the partygoers. if aeri was here, that probably meant jimin and yizhuo were somewhere nearby too.

“hey unnie,” minjeong greets, “I finally managed to get y/n out of her house.”

your smile falters.

why did it sound like a chore?

“that’s good, you only live once, y’know. let’s go dance y/n!” aeri exclaims. between the mess of people dancing and grinding up on each other, and the silence of the corner with minjeong, you would much rather stay with the latter. yet, the encouraging look from aeri pushed you to nod towards the sea of people.

minjeong’s hand flies to grasp onto your arm, an incredulous look on her face, “you’re dancing?”

you look at her over your shoulder, taking note of her furrowed brows, “yeah? i’m here for a reason… right?”

unable to refute that logic, her grip slackens and you’re dragged by aeri, who’s excitedly rambling about how fun parties were.

your best friend slips into the shadows of the house, nowhere to be found the next second you turned your head. well, at least you had aeri.

or, you did. the moment you whip back to talk to aeri, the girl had disappeared. panic shutters throughout your whole body. swarmed with sweaty bodies that radiated heat and the sickening smell of cheap beer, you desperately looked for a way out. your attempts go futile, unable to claw yourself away from the crowd of people. some familiar heads pop out; mark lee, self-proclaimed basketballer of the century, jang wonyoung, the girl with modelling agencies lining up to sign her when she graduates, park sohyun, certified girl crush of your school and girlfriend of equally popular zhou xinyu.

“hey!” someone yells loudly over the music. you instantly respond, distraught eyes tracking down the source of the voice. after a few seconds of looking, you catch park sunghoon staring at you with a hand stretched out.

shit. you think. turning back to the increasingly constricting crowd, you decide to take his hand and be pulled out instead of continuing to suffer.

free of the diminishing personal space you had, you let out a sigh of relief. you’ve never been happier to see sunghoon until now. the boy sends you an amused look. you probably look awful right now; you could feel your bangs sticking to your forehead, stained with perspiration and the sweat dripping down your neck made your top cling to your body uncomfortably.

“you good?” he asks softly, handing you a cup of water. you hesitate from taking it. sunghoon quickly takes a sip from it, stating, “i didn’t put anything inside.”

nodding, you gulp down the water like you’re dying from dehydration. finally quelling your parched throat, you take a good look at the ice skater.

jet black hair messily tousled. a plain, white t-shirt adorned with jeans. he wore a few accessories, like the sterling silver necklace around his neck. a boyish grin plastered on his face.

“i saw you come in, you looked a little,” sunghoon pauses, finding the right words, “out of place.”

“i don’t come to parties often,” you explain, feeling the need to converse with him as he had saved you.

sunghoon nods. he looks around for a bit before jutting at an empty corner, “let’s go there to talk. the music’s kind of making my head hurt.”

you would do anything to not get roped back into the dancing crowd.

the corner that you approached was right beside the staircase. damn, you stare at the intricate detailing of the railings, yunjin had good taste.

“why’d you come then? if you don’t like parties,” sunghoon asks curiously. you shrug, “my friend asked me to.” his inquisitive gaze doesn’t make you say anymore. after all, you don’t really want to talk about minjeong to her crush.

you lean back against the wall, muscles straining from tensing your whole body.

“your friend left you alone?”

“my other friend asked me to dance but she disappeared.”

sunghoon chuckles, “you looked like a fish out of water.”

rolling your eyes, you take another long gulp of water. somehow, you kind of understood why minjeong liked sunghoon. he was nice. and maybe if you were a boy and not her best friend, she would find you nice too.

“i never thought i would get to talk to you,” sunghoon suddenly professes.

you stare at him with wide eyes, stunned by his abrupt confession.

“i saw you for the first time during that debate competition,” he laughs to himself, “about the endangerment of animals.”

his eyes crinkle into a crescent of awe, “i remember thinking to myself, you must be the smartest person in our grade. then sometimes i see you staring, and it feels like you understand.”

and somehow, you know where this conversation is going. a feeling of agony crawls up your throat, threatening to blurt out that it wasn’t you that liked him.

“i’m sorry, this must be weird to hear.”

you force yourself to reply, “it’s fine.”

it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the constant buzzing of your phone. you feel bad when you see the plethora of texts minjeong has sent, all questioning your whereabouts. the last text was sent a minute ago, stating, ‘i think i see you.’

“we made eye contact once. it’s hard to admit but i kept thinking about it afterwards. i don’t know if i’m reading everything wrong but… do you like me?” he asks, eyes shining with hope. his body is awkwardly crouching down to meet your eyes.

as you struggle to answer him, a figure rapidly approaches.

“y/n! i’ve been looking for you everywhere— oh,” and of course, minjeong shows up now. no doubt she has heard the last part of sunghoon’s words. you direct a helpless look at her, praying that she lets you explain and everything will be fine.

“hello,” sunghoon greets, “sorry to take y/n away.”

he doesn’t look sorry.

minjeong nods, her entire body akin to one that’s frozen. deft fingers wrap around your wrist.

“i need to talk to you,” she says, staring into your eyes. sunghoon goes unacknowleged. unable to trust your voice, you merely nod meekly, bringing your hand up to wave half-heartedly at sunghoon as minjeong drags you away.

she brings you upstairs, which is slightly concerning because there aren’t any drunk highschoolers lingering in any rooms. was she breaking any of yunjin’s rules? what if the girl didn’t want anyone upstairs?

seemingly content with the balcony she ends up in, minjeong drops your hand and locks the clear doors.

you croak out, “why are you locking the doors…?”

minjeong arches an eyebrow, “in case you try to run.”

oh.

“what did you want to talk abo—”

“do you have any idea how scared i was? this is your first ever party in god knows how long and your number one instinct is to disappear with aeri? i can’t believe i just let you go without any supervision! and then i find yizhuo and aeri is suddenly with her? do you know how upset i was when I found out aeri just left you there?” minjeong says in rapid-fire words.

“uh—”

she paces around the balcony, fingers nearly ripping out her hair, “and then when i text you, you don’t even reply or read my messages. what was i meant to assume? i thought you were in some sort of trouble and i literally went on a manhunt to find you.”

only now you notice the sweat dripping down from her hairline.

“let me explain—”

“and where do i find you? chatting it up with park sunghoon! are you crazy? have you gone mad?” she shrieks in clear distress. you grab her by the shoulders, trying to stop her intense rambling.

“minjeong,” she breathes in sharply, “i’m sorry.”

a scoff.

“i didn’t mean to ignore your messages and i got surrounded by the crowd, i’m sorry,” you repeat. the girl finally calms down, her breathing stabilises.

minjeong sighs, “i was so scared. you’ve never liked parties and when you actually agree to coming…”

“it’s okay.” it really isn’t. some part of you is upset at minjeong, but the other part yearns for her, and doesn’t love blind people sometimes?

when did these blossoming feelings of adoration become something as strong as love?

“ugh, fuck,” minjeong furrows her brows, shutting her eyes shut and pinching her nose bridge, waves of frustration radiating from her, “and what the hell was park sunghoon talking to you about?”

you tense up. mouth suddenly dry and unable to utter a single word, you let minjeong bask in the silence.

“answer me,” she demands.

you clear your throat, “he thinks i like him.” it’s the safest answer, and it was the part she probably heard.

“do you?”

your eyes widen, “n-no, of course not.”

minjeong stares at you, scanning your face for any hint of a lie, “really? you’re telling the truth?”

“i don’t like sunghoon.” i like you, is what you want to say.

“seriously y/n, don’t lie to me. if you like him, you can tell me. i won’t be mad or anything,” (the constant grinding of her teeth tells you otherwise), “i’ll be more upset that you’re lying to me.” you don’t dare tell her you’ve lied to her before.

“i don’t like him,” you repeat, tired and exasperated. all you want now is to go home and get some rest. the constant bass-boosted music blasting in your ears is giving you a headache, combined with minjeong’s interrogation, you feel light-headed.

your best friend rolls her eyes. you resist the urge to just jump off the balcony. you can’t stand it when minjeong is mad, especially if she’s mad at you.

“i thought we were friends, y/n,” she whispers harshly.

your heart clenches, restrained from showing your true feelings like a straitjacket.

it’s maddening, to not reveal your own adoration for the girl. how sick is it that the girl you actually liked thinks you like another guy? the universe just hates your guts.

“minjeong…” your voice trails off. you reach out a hand.

she jumps away, as if burnt and your hand was acidic. pain shoots through you instantly. your fingers fall, devastated.

“i told you to rely on me,” she exhales, “if you think i’m mad that you like sunghoon, i’m not. i’m mad you don’t trust me enough to tell me.”

“i don’t like sunghoon, believe me,” you plead, tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall with every inch minjeong moves away. her whole body shudders and she strides towards the sliding doors, hand moving up to unlock the doors.

she sends you a bitter look, scathing and unlike the girl you love.

“i can’t look at you.”

this must be heartbreak. the scorching heat seething into the pores of your skin, burning your insides with fueled anger and pain. it’s as if someone has just poured gasoline into your body and lit it on fire. kim minjeong, the object of your affections, saying she can’t stand to see your face? it’s heartbreaking. tears run down your cheeks freely. the girl you’ve loved for so long, the one who claimed your heart without competition, kim minjeong. you feel your knees weaken, almost collapsing if it weren’t for the railing right next to you. your hands fly out to support yourself. you can’t breathe through the tears.

you can’t let it end like this.

“i like you,” you cry out as a last ditch attempt to preventing minjeong from exiting your life forever, “i like you, not sunghoon… s-so please don’t leave me.”

the girl stiffens up. she turns back to you slowly, surprise overtaking her body. your heart is racing, way quicker than usual, and it’s accelerating. you swallow any oxygen you can get. the pain coursing through you is too much to handle.

“p-please do-don’t leave…!” your tears cascade like a waterfall, blurring your vision. all you can see is a hazy vision of blonde hair and pale skin coming towards you. you continue through sniffles, “min..minjeong..” you feel incoming pain clashing into your head. blinking, your sight clouds.

“y/n? y/n!” minjeong yells, her arms reaching out to grab onto you. her embrace is warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the emotions she makes you feel.

“please,” you whisper weakly. minjeong’s grip on your top tightens, pulling you in closer as she murmurs words of comfort into your ears.

eventually, you manage to steady your breathing with the help of minjeong. embarrassment rushes through your blood, causing your cheeks to heat up.

it’s only the sound of your sniffles and heavy breathing that disturbs the silence of the night, the loud music below goes forgotten.

“you okay?” minjeong breaks the first wall to your heart.

you nod bashfully, rejecting the idea of lifting your head up, in fear you might never be able to embrace minjeong like this again.

“you like me?” she asks. the second wall collapses.

you nod again.

“not sunghoon?”

you shake your head.

she lets out a giggle. it’s so girlish and sweet, compared to the husky chuckle sunghoon let out previously. the third wall falls.

“i won’t leave you, i promise.”

“you can’t promise that,” you try to say, but it comes out muffled as you bury your face into her collarbones.

minjeong traces the baby hairs on the back of your neck.

“maybe. but i would like to try.” your heart is free to take now.

silence falls again. you feel a sliver of hope at her words.

“i like you,” minjeong says, “if it wasn’t clear enough.”

you groan, somewhat happily and self-conscious at your dense personality.

“why?”

“hm?”

you sigh, “why do you like me?”

minjeong contemplates for a few seconds before launching into a tirade of love confessions.

“i like how intelligent you are. i like when your arrogance comes through during your debates. i like you the most when you’re half asleep and i get the luxury of seeing you vulnerable. i like it when you help me with my homework. i like how you’re always so willing to assist me. i like how your eyes light up when you’re eating,” she caresses your rosy cheeks with her palm, using her fingers to push your lips upwards, “and i like the way you smile when you see me.”

the blooming feelings don’t diminish, they only come back stronger when minjeong strokes your face gently.

“why do you like me?” she questions.

you swallow the lump in your throat. could you even articulate how much you feel for her?

“i think of you day and night. you’re the only thing that occupies here,” you bring her hand to your chest, right above your heart, stating earnestly, “i like you because you make me feel safe.”

it’s entirely true. even if minjeong makes you want to build walls as high as skyscrapers, she will forever hold the key to destroying them. if she asked, maybe all the metal plates built around your heart would come crumbling down in a second.

“i was upset you liked sunghoon,” she laughs, “i stopped liking him in sixth grade and i have no idea why people still think i do.”

blood flushes your cheeks. you assumed the same.

“you’re always staring at him though…” you interject quietly. minjeong pats your head, “i like that one tracksuit he has.”

you’re taken back to the day when you caught minjeong staring at him. the memory of him wearing a navy adidas tracksuit appears in your head.

“he thought i liked him ‘cause i kept staring at him. but it was just me glaring at him when you were looking,” you frown. minjeong laughs heartily.

“i’m so happy,” she sighs, content. you can imagine the wide smile she has on right now. snuggling deeper into her embrace, you nod in agreement.

“me too.”

“want to let me show you how much i like you?” she asks teasingly.

and maybe you had more to talk about. and maybe you should beat up aeri for leaving you all alone. and maybe you should apologise to sunghoon for your abrupt exit. but those could all be done later. the only thing that mattered now was the feel of minjeong’s lips on yours.

kim minjeong, your best friend, and the love of your life.

#aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #winter x reader #aespa minjeong #aespa winter #kim minjeong x reader #minjeong x reader #kim winter x reader

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firelilyfox · 9 months ago

Text

Crush

Dune : Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: None / just fluff

You have a crush on Paul & he might have the same feeling about you

This is my first fanfic on this platform & my first about Dune. Please forgive me for mistakes (English is not my first language)

comments/reblogs are appreciated :]

If you have any ideas what scenarios I could do next then let me know because this is fun!

——————————————————-

The sun was setting as you finally arrived. It was a long and hard day and you are longing for some comfort, but everyone of your friends was busy with drinking and making fun of the believers like Stilgar. Even your best friend Chani was nowhere to be found.

Only he was there. Paul Arteides.

The One. The Voice… or some bullshit like that. You weren’t one of the believers. In your eyes Paul is just a normal human being with a talent for big speeches.

You never really talked to him more than three words because the thought alone made you nervous. Since he joined the Fremen two months ago you had a little … crush on him. And obviously you weren’t really good at smalltalk. Especially when all of your people have eagle eyes on the boy you wanted to talk to.

But tonight he was alone. Nobody paid any attention to him as Paul was sitting in a shadowy corner by a small fireplace, sipping a drink. For a second you wanted to turn away and just going to bed like every other night, but something tells you to do the opposite.

„Can I join you?“ You asked bravely.

Paul looked up with a little smile on his face. „Please do. I’ve been waiting.“

You hesitate for a moment, frowning but you sit down right next to him. „What where you waiting for?“

He chuckled softly. „For someone like you to talk to me.“

„Someone like me?“ You asked confused and watching his smile getting even brighter. Paul has that kind of smile, that makes you want to smile too instantly. All you can hope for is that the flickering light of the fire conceal you’re blushing.

„Yeah. Someone who truly dislikes me.“

You smirked. „What makes you think that I dislike you? Oh, mighty Duke of Arrakis?“

A warm laughter escaped his lips and for the first time ever you really saw his face light up in enjoyment. „Oh please don’t say that. It sounds awful! I only said it because I was in the heat of the moment.“

„I liked it.“

His laughing froze for a moment and he looked surprised. „You liked it? Are you having a stroke or something?“

„No!“ You laughed. „I really liked it. Sure it was a litte … dramatic but in the end you have a talent to bring people together and give them hope. That’s pretty impressing.“

He shrugged his shoulders. „Nah, I’m just good at telling people what they want to hear I guess.“ He hesitated. „Chani told me that you weren’t one of the believers and that you think this whole Lisan al Gaib thing is just bullshit.“ Paul is offering you his cup and you accept to take a sip. Immediately the taste of wine fills your senses. While you process his words you lick some of the wine from your lips and catching him starring at them.

Did you just imagine how his gaze darkened for a second or did that really had an impact on him?

You clear your throat because all of the sudden your mouth got dry again. „You talked to Chani about me?“

A crooked smile shows on his lips. „Yeah I did. I was … I wanted to…“

„I thought you were good with words?“ You say to mock him with success.

„I am good with words! But you have the talent to make me forget what I wanted to say and how.“ His eyes are locked with yours and you are able to feel how your heart skips a beat.

You wanted to say something but your mind were blank. Paul moves closer to you, slowly to make sure that you were able to stop him at any time.

„I like how you unsettle me“, he whispered. You could feel his breath against your lips. „Every time I see you I find new strength. But I never found the courage to talk to you.“

„But you … you always seemed so … full of courage“, your voice was not more than a scratching.

„I’m good at pretending“, Paul swallows hard and his eyes darted to your lips again. „Sometimes.“

„Sometimes?“ You asked.

„I can’t pretend that I don’t want to kiss you right now.“

You wanted to say something, but before you were able to even catch a breath his lips laid on yours. Soft like the morning wind in the desert. His hand holding your cheek and pulling you closer as you gave in to the kiss. Your fingers find their way up his chest and into his curled hair.

A little moan escaped your throat as he intensifies the kiss and as an answer to your reaction, you could feel him smiling against your lips.

„I think Muad’Dib is enjoying his time with the Fremen!“ You two were interrupted by some drunk Fremen men cheering and applauding from afar.

Paul and you are giggling like kids. Both with red cheeks and swollen lips. „Your people like a good show, mh?“

„Only if the mighty Duke of Arrakis is involved.“

#paul atreides #paul atredies x reader #dune part two #dune movie #dune part one #fluff #paul atreides fluff #dune fluff #timothée chalamet #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you

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crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington · 10 months ago

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yooooo!!! you’re my favorite ethan winters artist i just wanna say that first and foremost, thank you for the wholesome content of my comfort character and father figure 🥹🫶

i’m really curious bc i feel like i see a lot of people against mithan (not me personally, i’m p neutral on them!) but i’m curious to know all your thoughts on them! thoughts on their canon relationship, their fanon portrayal, the backlash against them/mia accusations, and your headcanons? i’m just really interested!!! hopefully that’s not weird :”)

have a good day!! sparkle on!!! ✨💖

i heart mithan... i think that they can be so cute...

i personally hc them t4t and i like to think that the dated in highschool before they both had fully transitioned

mia likes to bake and ethan likes to scrap book and he always likes to take pictures of mias cakes/ baked goods and has a album for them 😭

i am a multishipper so i draw a lot of ethan ships so my girl is left out sometimes and im sorry mia 😔

i actually really like their relationship, its a really complex dynamic that i like to talk about with my friends

i think the issue is that when talking about mithan or mia in general, theres just SO MUCH misinformation that its honestly a pain the butt to talk about

people still think that she was responsible for the creation of eveline, people still think that she experimented on eveline, people still use examples of her attacking ethan as if she did it on her own will instead of being mind controlled

in reality she was just someone who oversaw the transportation of evie. im not excusing her or anything because obviously she knew what she was doing, but people really try to accuse her of doing something she didnt and it bothers me alot lol

the problem with the fandom is that people either try to water her down to girlboss who did nothing wrong and fail to acknowledge the complexity/ moral grayness of her character and the other side is misogynists 😭😭😭😭

its hard to talk about her without people either going "stop trying to villainize her and make her look bad!" or people ACTUALLY villainizing her and acting like heisenberg would have treated him better 😭😭

mithan is such a sad relationship because they loved each other so much and that ended up being the reason their relationship fell apart (sort of... its not like the broke up... ethan kinda just straight up died)

i get a lot a trouble for saying this, but mia is a selfish person.

its not a bad thing! well i mean it is but it doesnt make her some evil witch who is somehow worse than the guy how made a werewolf american ninja warrior. its just a major character flaw she has! which is good! mia being a flawed person who makes mistakes and morally gray decisions make her a more interesting person!

she is selfish in the way that she wants to keep her family with her no matter the cost. even if it means lying to ethan about her job so that he wont think different of her. here is a interrogation from the re7 DLC, which is easy to miss!

she isnt necessarily trying to apologize for the things she has done, she is more of a, "u wont need to forgive me in the first place if we just forget it all and move on"

she doesn't try to redeem herself for what she has done, she tries to move on and return to the normal life that she wants so bad. which is fine! everyone copes a different way and she has to right to move on from her trauma. the problem that lies in this is that she has a shared trauma with ethan who still has no idea what went on in dulvey and still effects him till the present (he is mold! this is a important thing to know! most people would want to know if they were a walking corpse)

she played a direct part in what happened in dulvey, and im not referring to the email, she did not send that. she never wanted ethan to come in the first place. she tried her best to send a video to him, begging him to forget about her because she wanted to protect him, BUT it didnt send.

he got involved because she was involved. its honestly a series of really really unfortunate events.

THOUGH! she did know what she was getting into. im tired of seeing the narrative that mia was innocent and didnt know what was going on or was simply a bystander. she knew what she was doing, she knew eveline was a bioweapon, she knew eveline was a child. she used a MACHINE GUN! she knows how to use weapons and was obviously trained for it.

she tried her best to keep everybody out of the mess, ex: warning the bakers not to take them in, warning ethan not to find her, sacrificing herself for ethan in the later half of re7

but again, those are the consequences of HER actions

her consequences just happen to get really big and end up hitting ethan on the head like a metal sheet 😭

their relationship is really so interesting, it makes me really sad to think about sometimes 😭they both went through something that nobody else would ever understand, in the end they really only have each other. they get moved to an entire different country and the dulvey incident gets covered up with a "gas leak"

its really tragic because their marriage definitely had some flaws and bumps. and i know im repeating myself but its because people always take this in the worst way possible but just because i say their relationship was rocky doesnt mean im saying they dont love each other!!! thats the entire basis of mias character!! saying she doesnt love ethan would destroy her entire character!

you can see in the re8 DLC how fondly ethan talks about mia! he loves her so much, though im not sure if his comments in the DLC are him narrating current (post re8) or his thoughts before everything went down and he died (pre re8)

everything mia did was because she LOVED ethan. she would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, she is not a cruel person. she hides the truth of her job from ethan pre re7 because she loves him and doesnt want her job to drive them apart. she CONTINUES to refuse to tell ethan the truth post re7 because she wants to move on a live a happy normal life with him and knows something like her being directly associated with the connections would probably cause (more) problems. she refuses to tell ethan that he is mold because again, hard to live a happy marriage with your husband after you tell him hes a bioweapon.

obviously i dont think it was right that she did this, thats what makes her selfish! she did it for herself! she did it for her family! she thought it would work out, she thought that they could move on and be happy together.

the issue is that ethan didnt want to forget. he wanted to know what happened, he wanted to know the part mia played, he wanted answers! which is reasonable! he knows to some extent that mia was partially responsible for his involvement and he was always suspcious that mia was lying to him about her job which is implied when mia says "you were right, i did lie to you"

she doesnt learn, she doesnt stop lying, her lies get bigger and worse and it sucks yeah but it makes her so interesting!!! she keeps doing stupid things under the idea that this is whats best for her and her family, that if she hides this everything will work out and it will be for the better but its not!

just because telling your husband hes dead and a bioweapon is a hard subject to bring up doesnt mean you DONT bring it up. people shouldnt use that as a reason to excuse mia 😭, its a very bad excuse and honestly highlights how horrible their communication skills were. you cant just not tell your husband that he is actually infected with the mold and not tell him for the tree years between post re7 and pre re8.

im not saying these things to put mia down, or try and villanize her. these are all just actual things her character does! she isnt evil, but she isnt a knight in shining armor either. we need to be able to have talks about complex characters without crying everytime someone points out a flaw. characters have flaws! and mia just happens to have a lot of them!

im not mad at her, i dont dislike her because i think this way of her. shes a fictional character! you can like characters that are morally gray, or villains that drink blood and make corpse soldiers. they are fictional! pointing out the flaws of a character does not mean i dont like them.

i wouldnt call her "the real villain of re8" but i wouldnt treat her like a damsel in distress either. she is a competent person, she knows what shes doing, she has her reasons for doing them. she made bad descions with good intentions behind them! they can coexist and we should let them!

i like mithan! its a complex relationship because they both love each other so much but hurt each other in the process

talking about them is just a pain in the butt because talking about mia is a pain in the butt lol

i really hate how she keeps getting sidelined, its super frustrating to see mia get put in a cage in every game 😭

its even more frustrating that mia straight up just disappears???? in the shadows of rose DLC... like she just stops taking care of rose and theres nothing said about it. no reason or explanation. i dont think mia would ever ditch rosemary because she didnt care about her, but we probably will never know because capcom sucks at writing and they probably forgot the mia ever even existed.

all in all, i think the fandom is really just full of misinformation which make people either think mia is some horrible evil person, or its full of people who think that saying mia messed up is the equivalent of comparing her to wesker lol.

i really love mia, shes a incredibly fun and complex character, its just hard to enjoy her sometimes with the people in the fandom haha.

also ive got no idea what u meant by "the backlash against them/mia accusations" so sorry if i didnt answer that!

thank u for the ask! sorry for the long response!

#mia winters #resident evil #ethan winters #mithan

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lucvly · 1 year ago

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can you do hcs of being chris’ gf and also matt’s and nick’s bff

— being chris’ girlfriend + matt and nick’s best friend. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: fluff, cursing, suggestive, not proofread.

a/n: i love this omg?? keep feeding into my delusions please and thank you.

— most times, you help them film their videos. you’re not really in them but they all love it when you’re their camera girl.

— when you’re at their house, you have to hang out in chris’ room, otherwise nick and matt are constantly talking to you.

— sometimes you’ll be in the pool with nick and forget your phone around the house, then when chris comes home looking for you, he just finds you out with nick. (“jesus, i thought you got kidnapped or something.” “by your brother, yeah.”)

— movie nights with chris start off normally, just you two cuddling on his bed and watching a random movie you picked out, but somehow nick and matt end up crashing it. chris gets so pissed because they’re interrupting your date but you have to reassure him that it’s fine.

— you’re always in their photo dumps LMFAOO. most of the time, their comments are filled with “spot y/n challenge go.”

— you and chris can’t have a proper date in his house because nick and matt always crash it. so you end up having to hang out at your place or coming up with outside date ideas (museums, picnics, etc.)

— one time you and chris were making out in his room, you were straddling his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, his hands were on your waist— then suddenly, a loud scream from the door. shit. matt.

— “the door wasn’t even open.” “well it definitely wasn’t shut either, kid.” “shut the fuck up matt.” “dumbass.” “what did you say?”

— sometimes you and chris peacefully fall asleep on call, then you wake up at 3 am because matt stole his phone. he ends up begging you to go to the gas station and get slushies. you do.

— you three have a groupchat LMFAOO chris hates it because matt, nick and you always gang up on him.

— whenever they get in arguments with each other, it’s possibly the worst day of your life. all three of them tell you their side of the argument. (of course you side with your boyfriend, but you appreciate their trust in you LMFAOO.)

— you’ll get calls at midnight from matt asking you to get rid of chris because he’s being extremely annoying. followed up by a call from chris telling you to not listen to matt.

— you go with them on tour obviously. you and chris sleep together despite both of you having your own little bed.

— i feel like chris would be the clingiest boyfriend ever gn, especially if you’re best friends with his brothers LMFAOO.

— you’re always hanging around his house without him even knowing it. this one time he was out for whatever reason and when he came back he found you and matt in the backyard playing pokemon go. safe to say he was confused.

— on a certain occasion, you and chris were baking cookies. after you took them out of the oven, you left them out on the counter to cool down— big mistake. when you came back five minutes later, the cookies were long gone. chris was pissed.

— whenever chris wants to plan some grand gesture or big date, his brothers help him 110%. on one of your anniversaries he filled your room up with balloons and chocolates. like, on an insane level. after the whole celebration you had to call and thank nick and matt for the help.

— despite them denying it, matt and nick think your relationship is so cute. they’re your #1 fans honestly.

— ^ which means they take pictures of you all day every day. chris sends you random ass pictures of you two it’s so funny. (“look at the pic matt took of us lol” “when did he even take that hello????” “idk but we look so cute”)

— chris is head over heels for you and he loves that you have such a good relationship with his brothers. it makes everything a lot easier since you can tag along to trips, tour, and just be with him a lot more.

— whenever chris posts you on social media, he posts the cutest couple pictures. however, the comments always include matt and nick with something along the lines of (“PARENTS” “you’re both disgusting” “get a ROOM”)

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ckret2 · 2 years ago

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Okay so I have a theory.

During Bill & Ford's first meeting, Bill says "Care for a game of interdimensional chess?" What's interdimensional chess? How do its rules differ from regular chess? We don't know.

My theory: there's no such thing as "interdimensional chess" and Bill made up the term so he can cheat with impunity.

Ford, The Smart Guy, would be too embarrassed to admit to this powerful otherworldly being that he doesn't already know the rules to interdimensional chess, so he's just playing along like he already knows and trying to learn any different rules from context based on whatever Bill does.

This is exactly what Bill's counting on. Any time he's losing he can do something ridiculous like drop his previously-removed rook next to Ford's king and go "you were so distracted setting up your trap that you forgot to guard your wormhole exit! Rookie mistake!" and what's Ford gonna do but go "right... always forget that darn wormhole... haha..."

However, having now been introduced to the idea that Ford doesn't know how to play regular chess, I'm tempted to incorporate it. Bill pulls some illegal """interdimensional""" chess move, Ford says nothing; then Ford immediately does something that's also wildly illegal.

Now Bill's in a bind.

Does he call Ford out on it?? His plan was to act like he assumes Ford already knows "interdimensional" chess rules, does that mean he has to pretend he assumes Ford knows regular chess rules, too? If he accuses Ford of not knowing regular chess, then obviously, he'll have to teach Ford regular chess, and then Ford will ask for the rules of interdimensional chess, and then Bill's con falls apart. If he wants to keep cheating, he's got to act like everything Ford does is perfectly normal.

And now Bill's lost his advantage. He can't count on Ford being constrained to the normal rules of chess while Bill does anything he wants. Ford has no idea what moves Bill will claim are legal—but Bill also has no idea what moves Ford assumes are legal.

Their chess games are like an 8-year-old lying about the rules so he can always win playing against a 6-year-old who has no idea what the rules are but who likes randomly moving pieces so he can feel involved.

#gravity falls #grunkle ford #bill cipher #headcanons

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scoutswritingcorner · 8 months ago

Text

Little Shit

Alastor x GN! Reader

A/N: A little something while I work on requests! And Since y’all loved the silly little domestic imagine, here is another! PURELY PLATONIC. Alastor does refer to you as “Little Mouse”

TW:NONE-

Now Alastor loves you (as much as psychopathic cannibalistic serial killer can) but he’s also a little shit. He’s just a silly little creature!

If you trust him (first mistake) enough or you're on really really good terms with him and decide to tell him your deepest darkest fear (second mistake) oh boy, have fun. Now obviously he’s gonna fucking torture you, he gets a good laugh out of it but if it’s actually like causing you to freak out or physically hurt yourself. He’ll chill out big time. But he will still sometimes scare you. He’s sadistic. You signed up for this.

Like- you have a fear of heights? He’s picking your ass up and putting you on the highest part of the hotel. Don’t worry, he’ll catch you if you fall :). But if you scream at him enough he’ll begrudgingly get you down and bring you to your favorite store/ ice cream shop as an apology! You don’t have to accept the apology because he honestly doesn’t care but he’ll actually apologize to you with a side hug and all!

He also likes to watch you all the time, he has a staring problem AND he’s trying to understand what makes you tick the most. Don’t forget the constant tapping you with his cane, he will do it. Don’t try to threaten him, it makes him do it more. He’s an annoying little brat. You could be talking with a random guest or Charlie and he’ll pop up behind you to tap you on the head with his cane and turn away like he didn’t just do it.

Say you have a crush on someone and tell Alastor, he’ll make it his mission to try and embarrass your ass. Just, “Did you know, my little mouse here, takes a bath with rubber duckies.” (you do not. He’s pulling shit out of his ass by now). Don’t be afraid to snatch him by his ear and chew him out! You’re the only one who can do this! He’ll do it back so be wise on how hard you tug his poor ear.

Oh boy, if you have a crush on someone in the hotel or even Lucifer. He’s ramping it up and will not stop until you’re red faced and hitting his chest. If you have a crush on Lucifer, he’s lecturing you. No ifs ands or buts, he’s pulling that card. “You can not be serious, Little Mouse. The short one? Look at how well he’s run things-”

He will pull pranks on you, small things that you won’t look twice at until it happens. Like tuning your alarms to 3am instead of the normal time you wake up. Moving something an inch from where it was so you either trip or stub your toe. Or maybe put salt into your coffee instead of sugar. Who knows. He does.

Once again, he will wrestle and play with you (NOT LIKE THAT YA NASTIES) and he will not be gentle unless you tell him to be. You will end up with bumps, bruises, bites and somehow a cut on your arm. He will also trip you himself so he can catch you, nothing romantic like. I mean he will snag you by the back of your shirt before you're an inch from the ground. Don’t try, he'll evade your attempts.

Will make your food really really spicy and then hide all the milk and ice cream until you beg him. You’re in tears and drooling about to drink all the creamer in the fridge before a gallon of milk appears in front of you as Alastor goes back to serving everyone else NORMAL food.

A/N: Older sibling vibes. Don't let him fool you, he was destined to be an older sibling.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x gn!reader

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rad-batson · 1 year ago

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Damian Wayne: Figure Skater

or: Damian Wayne Fluff Because Damian Wayne Deserves Joy and Happiness <3

Damian Wayne prides himself on being good at everything he does. He never half-asses anything.

Damian has tried tons of different skills before. He’s mastered dozens of martial arts, become fluent in over thirty languages, earned several PhDs, and he’s not even a teenager yet. Why? He needs to be the best or it’s not good enough.

But there are only so many skills that give him the same joy as when he started. Studio art is his favorite and has always been a constant for him, but he’s yet to find something else. Something that truly invigorates him.

At 12, Damian watches the Winter Olympics with Dick. It’s his first ever time viewing the Olympics, and he doesn’t really know what he was expecting, but Damian is…kind of underwhelmed.

Everyone talked about how the Olympics are supposed to be this grandiose display of the world’s talents, but most of it’s pretty boring.

Curling is boring. Alpine is slow and monotonous. Bobsledding is repetitive, and sled dog racing seems unethical.

But then figure skating comes on. And Damian is captivated.

Without even realizing, he moved right in front of the television and watched an hour of figure skating uninterrupted. Dick notices and smiles.

“Aren’t they cool?” Dick asks. Damian, with his eyes still glued to the screen, nods. “Wanna go to the local rink with me and try it out? It’s even more fun than it looks.”

That pulls Damian out of his trance, and he closes himself off. “No. I don’t need to.”

He just thought it was cool, okay? And he totally doesn’t want to try it himself. And he totally isn’t worried that he won’t be good at it and fall like an idiot in front of his older brother if he does.

It’s just that…it’s so cool!!

Damian knows agility, okay? He can do flips and tricks with ease, and he knows how to do it with both grace and poise. But these people? They can do it on ice! With blades on their feet!!

OF COURSE DAMIAN WANTS TO DO COOL TRICKS WITH SHARP BLADES STRAPPED TO HIS FEET

Admittedly, he goes through a two-month-long period of pretending he isn’t dying to try it. He almost completely forgets. Then, by complete coincidence, Cass and Duke invite him to an indoor skating rink, and he caves. Maybe it’s not that hard.

Spoiler: Figure Skating is Hard

Within five seconds, he falls flat on his face. How do people do this? Cass and Duke say it’s normal, but he still refuses to leave the wall the whole time out of shame.

Once they’re home, however, Damian realizes how stupid that was. He’s Damian Wayne Al Ghul. He can’t just give up! What would the rest of his family think?! What if they go back one day, and he just falls flat on his face again? There’s no excuse the second time, and he doesn’t want the others to think he can’t do it.

So that night, he sneaks back into the rink after hours and tries again. And again. And again. And again.

On the fifth try, he is able to make it all the way around the rink. He realizes that he’s distributing his weight wrong. (Stupid mistake, of course. He’s essentially balancing on knives.) That makes it a lot easier, but he’s still flapping his arms around like a bird.

He spends two more hours improving his balance, then decides that’s good enough. He did what he came here to do, and he doesn’t need to come back.

Two days later, he comes back. (I mean, who knows? Maybe, he’s gotten better.) He didn’t, obviously. But what harm is there in spending some more time on the ice? Other than the collection of bruises he acquires.

He falls way more than he’d like to admit, but once he teaches himself how to do that safely, it’s actually kind of fun. He circles the rink countless times, figures out to start and stop (though it is admittedly a very ungraceful way of stopping.) He can even kind of control his speed.

So he’s done, right? He did it! He can now ice skate to a degree that isn’t mortifying for a beginner. He doesn’t need to come back.

The Short Program

One week and four visits later, he admits that he is hooked. He wants to see how far he can go with this. But he can’t just improve without proper guidance, so he decides to take Tim’s advice for once and use the internet.

That’s when he really starts improving. Exponentially. He pours over articles and videos and diagrams about gliding, stopping, pivots, crossovers, and finally some simple spins. Just basics, of course.

He also purchases his own pair of skates because the rental ones he’s been “borrowing” suck. And they smell. And he forges a membership card (you know, so there’s no paper trail.)

His original goal is to make it to free skate level, but once he’s there, he can’t stop. It’s just so gratifying to add another skill to his repertoire. If he can do front crossovers, then he can surely master them backward. Closed Mohawks shouldn’t be that bad if the open Mohawks were so easy. Before he knows it, he’s spending hours every week developing his skills.

After a few months, his improvement plateaus because the jumps prove difficult. He doesn’t know how to build up the speed, and his stealth and fighting techniques (which he’s been borrowing from thus far) just make him wipe out. So he works on that for a bit and tries to figure out what he’s doing wrong.

During a JL meeting, The Flash happens to mention a rogue who used to figure skate. Lisa Snart, or the Golden Glider, is a famous figure skater from the 90s, but she was kicked from the Olympic team due to her life of crime. Now, she jumps between both petty crime and vigilantism.

Damian tracks her down and claims to be researching the sport for a school assignment. Yeah, it’s a bit thin of a cover story. If she wanted to see through his lie, she’d only have to break into his school and check his teacher’s assignment book, but once he laments about how every other skater is busy, and he was so surprised to learn that she was no longer skating when she’s clearly so talented, Lisa happily tells him all of the secrets to the sport.

For a few months, he applies her techniques and even asks her to skate for him a few times, recording her from multiple angles. “I value the quality of my education,” he explains. She sees through the lie but doesn’t say anything. (And somehow, he doesn’t particularly care.)

In the coming year, Bruce notices a change in how Robin moves during patrol. If he had to describe it…well, there’s a lot more power behind his movement. He redistributes his momentum with ease, which proves extremely valuable. There’s more height to his jumps and speed in his attacks. On top of it all, he can reorient himself quicker.

Bruce praises Damian once they’re back at the cave and even allows him more freedom during missions. Damian totally doesn’t cry about it in his room.

The Free Skate

Damian refuses to let anyone watch him practice for YEARS to save his pride. I mean, yes, he’s at free skate level 5—thanks, Lisa—but he’s not at level 6 yet! And that won’t take too long, right? Maybe they can know once he’s mastered his quad axel (which is a totally doable goal. He’s not overachieving. He’s Damian Wayne Al Ghul.)

Next, he works on transitions. At first, he copies other skaters’ forms, then he slowly develops his own. It’s sharp in some ways and fluid in others like he’s been on ice his whole life but he’s got places to be.

At about 15 or 16, he invites Jon to come with him one day. He shows him “a few spins” (triple axels) and Jon immediately starts encouraging him to join some kind of showcase or competition.

Damian’s response is “No! I’m not good enough yet. I still can’t land a quad axel. That’s insulting.”

Cue Jon’s family-friendly “bitch please” face. He says, “Okay, but you need to show someone else. I can’t be the only person in the world who knows.” so they get Billy in on it.

He’s obviously good at keeping secrets, considering he hid his age and the fact he was homeless from the JL for five years.

Billy also loses his shit, but he’s more understanding about the “I don’t want to tell anyone else” thing. Thus, Jon and Billy become Damian’s cover for every time he’s caught sneaking out. (He was running out of excuses anyway.)

Bruce hears that Damian is hanging out with Jon and Billy every week, gives him a look, and tells him he’s proud that he’s making friends.

Damian nods along, thanking all the gods in Billy’s head that his secret is safe. If Bruce doesn’t have any reason to snoop, then he won’t. Simple as that. The greatest detective in the world doesn’t need to start snooping.

During the next Winter Olympics, Damian watches every single skating performance from the comfort of his room. (Tim can hear him yelling at his TV through the walls but doesn’t have the energy to question it.)

Jon and Billy are his cheerleaders. They go out for lunch then head to the rink with him and mess around while Damian practices. Sometimes, they spend all day together. Doing homework, gossiping, playing fun little games.

Damian keeps mentioning the quad axel to them until Jon looks it up and says, “Um, hey Dami? Apparently, the quad axel is like…almost physically impossible. You know that, right?“ “If Lisa Snart and Ilia Malinin can do it, so can I.” “Okay, Mr. PhD.” Still, they don’t doubt him for a second.

Damian teaches them some stuff during a public skate in Fawcett City. Jon cheats multiple times by floating a tiny bit to keep his balance. Billy falls a lot.

As much as he likes being with his friends, though, Damian finds himself skating more to clear his head rather than to improve or socialize.

When he has a bad patrol or gets into some trouble he could have avoided, he’ll sneak into the rink alone and skate for hours.

He’ll pour all of his frustration into the music and carve it out into the ice until he’s exhausted and lying down with the cold surface against his back, letting it sink some sense into him.

It’s a good outlet. Kind of like his art, but there are only so many pencils you can snap in anger before your dad cuts your art supply budget. Bruce doesn’t know about this yet.

Six months later, when Damian lands his first quad axel in front of Jon and Billy, they all scream for five consecutive minutes and celebrate with hot chocolate and sorbet.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Tim asks when he’s back home. Damian tries to hide his smile but fails spectacularly. “Oh, nothing.” He’s never had a problem with schooling his emotions before, but anything is possible now. Even a quad fucking axel.

Competition Season

During patrol one day, Dick sees Damian spinning on the roof and says, “Hey, where’d you get those sick ballet moves? Did Black Bat teach you that?” Damian immediately stops and says, “Uh yeah.” Thankfully, Dick doesn’t ask Cass to confirm.

At 17, Jason catches him sneaking out at 10 pm and unknowingly opens an entire can of worms.

Damian, too tired to make a good excuse: “I’m seeing Jon.” Jason: “Like a date?” Damian, dying inside: “…Don’t tell Baba.”

At 18, he’s able to reliably land the quad axel and do it with style. It’s almost more gratifying than punching criminals in the face. (Almost.) That’s when Jon and Billy finally bring up the idea of telling others about it.

Damian is still hesitant, but he thinks about it.

I mean, he’s made a lot of progress in six years, hasn’t he? The only other thing he’s spent so long practicing was his assassin training, then his vigilantism, and his art. But this one is special because it’s just his. (And Jon and Billy. Kinda.) And getting to show off to them is fun, especially when he perfects another element, and they got batshit crazy together over it. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Having a few more people to mess around with in the rink?

He just doesn’t know if it’ll be impressive enough. After all, his entire family is great at stuff. Bruce is the world’s greatest detective—how he hasn’t learned about this yet, Damian doesn’t know. Dick is a beyond incredible acrobat. Jason has one of the highest proficiencies in marksmanship ever. Tim is the best bo staff user on this side of the Atlantic...

...And Damian can do jumps and tricks on the ice. Wow, cool. Good job, Damian.

But then he’s twelve again. And he’s sitting in front of the TV watching Yuzuru Hanyu and Yuna Kim do triple axels, and Dick is inviting him to try it out together. And Cass and Dick are taking him to the rink because they thought it’d be fun. And Lisa is rambling about how she misses skating competitively. And Bruce is telling him he’s proud of the progress Damian’s made both inside and outside of patrol. And Tim is telling him he looks happier than usual.

He is happier.

Yeah. Maybe, they deserve to know.

He agrees to sign up for a free skate competition. But not one in Gotham. And only a small one. He wants to test out the waters first. They find one that’s a month away, and Damian signs up.

When the day comes, Damian is shaking in his skates. He did not account for a “small competition” still having over two hundred people watching. What the fuck was he thinking?

What Jon and Billy don’t tell him is that they snuck Dick into the crowd to watch. Dick has no idea what he’s doing there until he sees Damian skate out to the middle in a red and grey top with black pants and matching skates.

He performs to Beggin’ by Måneskin and starts the performance out with his quad axel.

Everyone loses their shit.

He looks so genuinely excited when he’s skating. He completely ignores the hundreds of people watching, doesn’t count points. He just jams out to the song until he’s breathless, spinning and gliding and jumping and turning to the beat, mostly showing off to Jon and Billy like he always does.

When it’s over, he just hears this massive crowd of people screaming, and then overtop of it, Dick shouts, “THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER!!” and Damian almost falls flat on his face.

Dick uses the Emergency Group Chat to send a video of Damian skating then screams into the phone to Bruce, who immediately drives out to the rink with the rest of the family, and his siblings make Damian do it over once the place is cleared out because they can’t believe they missed it.

Dick: When did you learn to figure skate?! Damian: After we watched the Olympics together. Dick: You’ve been hiding this for SIX YEARS?!?! Damian: …It looked fun.

Of course, Damian is still the son of Bruce Wayne so tabloids eat it up.

“Damian Wayne: Figure Skating Prodigy” “Wayne Prodigy Wins Gold at Regional Figure Skating Competition, Baffling Judges” “Is Damian Wayne fit to represent the US during the next Winter Olympics??”

A swarm of coaches ask Damian if he would like to skate competitively but he declines. He just likes doing it for fun.

Thankfully, the performance was recorded by the competition holders (after a suspicious request from the CEO of Wayne Enterprises last week. Wow, wonder why)

Leave it to Damian to spend his rebellious phase becoming an Olympic-level athlete.

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cher-rei · 8 months ago

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hey could u do a comfort fic with trent alexander arnold where he’s maybe read stuff on the internet about him that are very hateful and the reader comforts him

reflection— [ T.A.A ]

but I love that man like nobody can [how to disappear- lana del rey]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: after his injury, comments start to flood trent's mind and you want nothing more than to make sure he knows that they aren't true.

genre(s): established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

[wc: 2.3k] masterlist

notes: while I'm writing this I can't stop thinking about cody and the amount of hate he's getting because of the united match. he's human too and the fact that people are going to his instragram and commenting the most horrible things about him and telling him to leave the club genuinely hurts my heart because he's so sweet and doesn't deserve any of this. it's normal for footballers to make mistakes and they have their bad days, but putting them down isn't going to make the situation any better. we're supposed to be supporting the team and not blaming individuals for a loss </3

it's strange how the people that swear that they're a clubs supporter can switch up on players over something as minuscule as missing a goal or losing a tackle. it's the way players get dragged for making human mistakes, but because of the pedestals they're put on it adds even more pressure.

the comparing of players, telling them to leave their clubs and so much more pile up on the list of hate they get. no matter how good of a footballer you were there was always going to hate thrown your way, chipping away at your self esteem ever so slowly.

trent was headstrong, he knew who he was and hardly took harsh comments and criticism to heart. it was one of the many things you admired about your boyfriend, the way that he was able to be better and prove people wrong so effortlessly.

but he was only human after all, and it was bound to get to him at some point. it was after his first match back after injury that everything happened. he acquired the knee injury against arsenal in january, recalling the exact moment you saw him limping and biting his jersey to ease the pain.

you were in the stands obviously, worried sick but he wasn't subbed off for whatever reason. while everyone was rejoicing the win you couldn't bring yourself to forget about his knee, immediately rushing to the tunnel so you could see him.

trent swore that he was fine but you were absolutely furious that he still played the full 90 minutes instead of asking for the medics to at least check up on him. that was water undet the bridge however, and he was put off for three weeks but even then you felt that it was too little recovery time.

and you were right of course but he was eager to be on the pitch again. you couldn't pass judgement there because of course he missed playing, he felt horrible for being at home and not having any way to contribute to the teams victories. so when they gave him the green light for the match against burnley he was ecstatic.

and you were happy for him, but that didn't push your worry to the back of your mind. and then it went south when he was subbed off before half time because he wasn't playing at his best. the entire time he was on the bench he was silent, his thoughts running wild and his heart heavy with disappointment.

you were watching the match from home so you immediate reaction was to message him, his dull responses taking shots at your heart.

when he got home that evening your heart shattered seeing him look so beaten up. all he did was drop his bags and come to lay with you on the couch, his head resting on your chest while you reassured him that everything was going to be fine.

trent barely spoke a word to you until the following afternoon when he got back from his physio assessment, in an even worse state than when he left. he was limping, his head hung low and motivation to do anything at its lowest.

you knew that he just needed some time alone before you tackled the situation, so you gave him his necessary space until he was ready to talk. but then the evening came when his side of the bed was empty, and when you checked your phone you were even more surprised to see that it was only 2 a.m.

you got out of bed in panic, immediately rushing downstairs to look for trent but all the lights were off. he wasn't in the kitchen, the living room or even in the backyard. by now your thoughts were running wild, shear panic settling on your chest until you heard the front door unlock.

trent walked in, his lips pursed. "why are you awake?" he took a few steps closer to you, confusion settling on his face. "do you know what time it is?"

a dry scoff left your lips in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing."

he went silent, not knowing what to say except apologise but you were fed up. you gave him his space and kept your worry to yourself, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did but your patience wore thin.

your expression hardened at the recollection of how distant he'd been the past week. "talk to me. please."

"there's nothing to talk about, I'm fine--"

"--that's absolute bullshit." your tone was harsh and it took him by surprise because you rarely raised your voice at anyone, let alone him.

he took a few weary steps closer only to see the tears walking up in your eyes. oh shit, what has he done?

"no baby, why are you crying?" he asked soothingly and pulled you into his embrace, his hands gently stroking your back in comfort. his heart sunk at the few sniffles from your side, he couldn't believe that his injury had you crying.

you tightened your arms around his torso, an overwhelming feeling of hurt washing over you the more he comforted you. "because you're hurt."

he sighed. "and I'm getting better. the recovery is going well, honey."

you shook your head against his chest. "I'm not talking about your knee trent." you finally pulled away to look up at him with teary eyes, which didn't make him feel any better.

"I know you read the comments, and I know that you're taking them to heart this time but--" you swallowed the bile in your throat, the mere thought of all the hurtful comments having you sick to your stomach. "--but you're not talking to me about it and it makes me feel horrible because they're not true."

trent's heart had just been shattered to pieces, his lips parted in shock because you knew him so damn well. he had been reading the comments, and at first it didn't mean much but the more they came about, the harder it was to push it aside.

honestly the worse 45 minutes anyone had played this season. trent has exited his prime and it's showing.

this is who you guys call the best right back in the league?? have you seen that match against burnley? kyle walker over this dude any day.

he was good until he wasn't. sorry not sorry.

I'm sorry what was that play?? all he had to do was keep the ball for more than 2 seconds. this guy is a joke.

nah get this man out of my club, I can't anymore.

trent my man this is burnley we're talking about. what are you doing??

he's seen it all. and for the first time in years he let the negative comments get to him even though he knew better. and now here you were, standing in front of him teary eyed in the middle of the night because he wasn't man enough to talk to you— his own damn girlfriend.

a heavy sigh disturbed the silence and that was an indicator to you that he was ready to talk. he took your hand and lead you to the couch, making sure that you were settled down comfortably in front of him.

"you know when we played city the away fans were yelling at me when I went to take the corner," he began with a half hearted laugh. "apparently I'm a shit kyle walker."

your grip tightened on his hand instinctively, but you remained silent and listened to him express his concerns and thoughts on the entire ordeal. he brushed the kyle walker thing off and said that he found it rather amusing instead of hurtful.

"but after the arsenal game when I hurt my knee something just snapped I guess. and you were so worried when I got home too so I just wanted to get better because I don't want you to panic over my injuries."

a lump formed in your throat, the tears resurfacing but trent was quick to wipe them away. "and now people are saying that I played like absolute shit against burnley," he shook his head. "which is true by the way."

this was were you grew defensive. "you just came back from injury of course you weren't going to be in the best shape trent."

his eyebrows raised for a moment, a soft chuckle leaving his lips but you didn't find it funny at all. "ever since this whole thing you've been saying my name an awful lot."

that was surprisingly true. you were upset so of course you weren't going to call him something endearing. you were upset!

you cocked you head to the side, a judgemental look on your face that trent didn't want to worsen so he carried on talking. you weren't going to bed until he had everything out.

"anyway," he chuckled. "I've just been feeling really anxious and self conscious because what if they're telling the truth you know? like okay I score goals and I play well but what if that's just me thinking that?"

his breathing had begun to pick up and you were quick to notice, and alarm going off in your mind and telling you that he was nearing tears. trent groaned in frustration and shut his eyes in attempt to push the tears back.

he bent over to put his hands on his knees to try and calm himself down before you started crying as well. your hand was running up and down his back soothingly, only for him to get back up and take refuge in your arms.

everything was finally starting to pool out, and it broke you knowing that he felt this way and hadn't spoken to you because he didn't want you to worry. the dark living room was filled with his silent sobs that you tried to ease until your own started to fall.

you shut your eyes and held trent as close to you as possible, your shirt slightly wet because of his tears. you wondered how the other players felt when something similar happened to them, if they broke down in their partners' arms as well.

it wasn't easy for them to welcome the vulnerability you assumed— especially if it were over something like hate comments. but it was difficult and they were only trying their best.

"It's okay if you cry, baby. there's no need to apologise," you hushed when he said sorry. "It's normal to feel this way, you're human too and I can't tell you not to let those things get to your head but they're not true."

his silent sobs came to a subtle halt but his head remained on your shoulder as he listened to you speak so softly, telling him that everything was okay.

"you know what you're capable of so don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. as long as you know that you have people who support you and are rooting for you, nothing else should matter," you retorted reassuringly in hopes that it would help him realise that he didn't have to worry about things he couldn't control.

it was out of his hands, he lead the arsenal match in pain like a proper leader and that showed immense strength. instead of giving up he pulled through and made sure that the team was at their best before thinking about himself.

you put a small kiss to his temple. "I'm so proud of you. every single waking moment of every day, no matter what happens— I will always be proud of you for doing what you can."

this made trent smile when he finally got up to look at you with glossy eyes. "really?"

you nodded eagerly. "you breathe and I want to scream 'that's my boyfriend'."

that got a laugh out of him and he felt his heart strings tug. he loved you so much for standing by his side no matter what, for being patient and for just being you. he was grateful beyond comprehension and sometimes he felt that he didn't express his love for you the correct amount.

you deserved so much and here you were comforting him at the dead of night because he got insecure. his heart was overflowing just for you.

trent put his hand on your cheek and wiped away the stray tear that fell. "I'm sorry for making you worry. if I do it again just kick me out."

you laughed and his heart exploded. "oh, definitely. pull a stunt like this again and I'll feed you to the wolves."

his eyes widened a fraction. "okay, that's a bit too far."

you disagreed wholeheartedly and told him that it was the only correct form of punishment for the heart attacks that he gave you. "my heart broke like five times in this past week trent, so no."

he hummed and leant in for a kiss. "I'll fix it again I promise."

you felt yourself melt at the touch of his lips on yours— a tender kiss that held so much sincerity and love, an apology slipping through along with a silent I love you.

he pulled away and took a moment to look at you, drinking in every bit of your presence silently to which you hit him on the arm, a giddy smile and blush having you weak in the knees whereas he was mesmerised, not even realising that you had been trying to get his attention for a bit.

"earth to trent," you called and waved your hand in front of your face but he quickly caught it and pulled you closer to him, a yelp leaving your mouth before laughing.

"call me 'trent' one more time and we're going to have a problem," he said through a smile but you just played along, finding it amusing.

"oh really?" your tone was playful and he wasn't having any of it. "well trent wouldn't-- ah!"

your boyfriend had you lying on the couch in a fit of giggles, him hovering over you as he tickled you but stopping every so often to litter kisses on your face which you weren't fighting at all. because everyone needed a little love, right?

#footballer imagine #fanfic #footballer x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #football imagine #footballer x you #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold x reader #liverpool x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold #liverpool football club #trent alexander arnold imagine #football #fic rec #cherrei rambles #cherrei writes #writers on tumblr #liverpoolfc x reader

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darkbluekies · 2 months ago

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Obviously the yanderes don’t “dislike” or “hate” their children, they are theirs and darlings children after all but now I feel like Kry treats them the “worst” if that makes sense, instead of breaking the cycle, he is raising his girls the way he was raised.

Maybe his expectations are not as unrealistic as his parents ones were but you can argue bed-bounding your child is worse.

Do correct me if I’m wrong but I feel like Kry sometimes forgets is girls are not an extension of him but their own people, they have their own thoughts, feelings, likes and dislikes but they should ignore those and listen to him because he’s their father and knows best.

I can imagine it’s extremely suffocating having a parent like Kry, constantly walking on eggshells because even regular normal things he may view as bad and there will be unfair consequences.

Oh no, no, no, EDMUND treats his kids the worst (unfortunately). He doesn't really like children, he just need heirs, but since he thinks that women aren't fit to be rulers, he's better to his daughter than his son. He's tougher on Ludwig because he needs to teach him things.

But I'm torn on Kry. I do feel that he is a good father, but he's definetly not the best among the yandere's (Hedwig is the best parent). He loves his girls to the moon and back, but he's unsure how to show that love.

You are right, he does see his children a bit as an extension of him, but that's because he WANTS them to succeed, wants them to have the best life they can have (money wise) so that they'll never have to worry ... but he forgets sometimes that they might not enjoy it. But he will always drive the girls to their extracurriculars, buy everything they need for their schoolworks/hobbies. He wants to encourage as much productivity as possible. But he'd never let them drop out of school and try to make it as a singer/author/actor etc since that isn't stable.

Dr Kry is, however, not unfair. In his childhood, he could never make mistakes or break things, which is why he will always let the girls explain their version of the incident before making judgement. If it's an accident, he will not be angry and will help them fix it and if it's something they've done out of anger/conciously he will punish them by grounding/extra chores etc. But he's absolutely on the "innocent until proven guilty" mindset for the twins.

Bed bounding your child is ... certainly a choice. Can't back him up on that one. The way he treats Nadia right after is also ... a bit too much. It's my fault for portraying him wrong in the first part. He would never actually leave Nadia, he just said that to scare her ... which ... also is a choice ...? Dr Kry had reached his breaking point and did thinks that is out of his character. I reread it and was like "...what", so i will try to show it better in part 2!!

#comfortkiss #yandere oc #yandere doctor #the younger generation

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iznsfw · 1 year ago

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above the law, (under you)

TWICE's Chou Tzuyu x Male Reader Smut

4,629 words

Categories | lawyer!Tzuyu x criminal!you, thighjob, blowjob

Quick one for TWICE's maknae. Hope you like it.

The thing about law is that it's actually quite flexible. Forget what your law professors taught you and all those fines the government threatens. If you manage to lie with just a bit of space for truth to distort your falsehoods into, you can get out of anything easily. That's certain, actually, no matter what consequences are inscribed into whatever bible juries and judges have. Maybe you'd only have to spend a few days in jail, probably narrowly avoid a death sentence.

At least, that's how it works when you've got a good lawyer.

Oh, yeah, that's what Tzuyu is for. Lucky you.

"So you understand," she says, spreading your files on the desk like it were butter across toast (don't mind the choice of comparison; your stomach is growling), "that it gets suspicious."

Actually, you don't. "Do elaborate."

Tzuyu sighs. She drags a hand along her golden hair. Normally, colored hair in the courtroom would be looked down on, but she's reached that kind of status that it doesn't matter what she does or who she represents—whether she wins or loses the trial for you, she's Chou Tzuyu, and everyone still gives her the deserved respect.

But with you, the situation is more dangerous. It's a hit or miss with you, and now, the two of you are getting closer and closer to missing.

"You've been in and out of juvie since you were in middle school," she says, one pinky up to count the factors. Another as she goes on, "And you haven't stopped robbery and physical assault since then. You raged in the divorce court, too, so trust me: when it comes to custody of your kid, it doesn't get easier."

Three fingers. Three's the charm, right?

"Well," you curl down the sides of your mouth and raise your hands, "obviously."

Again, you're lucky to have Tzuyu. She's the only one who's paid enough to put up with your bullshit. She's the only one who can get you out of said bullshit. If you said that to anybody else, they'd kick you out, and you know enough already about being excluded and rejected.

That's not to say you feel sorry for yourself, just to be clear. You're too used to this rowdy lifestyle that your own actions don't humiliate you. Neither does the fact that you haven't matured from the age of sixteen.

In that case, you do feel sorry for Tzuyu, though. She's an intelligent and beautiful young woman. She's only going forward from here on out, but you'll always hang onto the hem of her dress pants like a tail. You're a mistake that no Mongol pencil top can erase, and that's been sealed into her mind long after she accepted to represent you.

She's the one getting paid anyway. No need to muck over it.

"Did you do it, though?" Tzuyu asks.

"Do what?"

"Did you beat up your ex-wife's husband in front of her?"

Honesty is a virtue that only your lawyer is deserving of. So, "Yeah."

Tzuyu pinches her nose. "And the drunk texts?"

"Uh huh."

"The lamb blood on the yard?"

"All me, baby," you answer.

You're a bit regretful, to be honest. Not for the fucked up shit you did to coax your ex-wife into getting back with you, but with how you failed to use your own blood to write out "YOU'LL ALWAYS BE MINE, DAHYUN!" in front of her house. But you've already crossed one too many lines.

"You sound proud," Tzuyu notes. "Don't you realize how this can influence the trial?"

Do you? Probably, but you've gone to court so many times, against so many people, that it's become like a second home. The Corinthian columns looming over you don't scare you anymore. Neither do the judge and jury.

Maybe the reason you keep fucking shit up is the need for something to feel?

You haven't felt anything in a long time besides anger. Maybe that's it. Maybe that's why you keep doing what you do despite knowing it can ruin your few good relationships with the few good people who deal with you.

"You can get me out of this alright, Tzuyu," you say. Prop your feet on the opposite plush seat that stands at the front of her desk. "Just lie—you know, it's your job."

"I'm a lawyer, not a magician," Tzuyu says, speaking through her grinding teeth. "I'm not another foolproof way to buy yourself out of consequences."

"That's nice. Got that comeback off searching 'badass lawyer quotes'?"

Tzuyu stares at you. She's really too cute to be in a courtroom, but the way her full lips are set and her eyes glare through your soul make you remember that she's up there for a reason. All these certificates and awards placed on her wall and bookshelves aren't out of nothing. She deserves respect from you because she's still your lawyer, she's still your only way out of going to prison.

"You just… don't care, huh," Tzuyu remarks. "Everything about this is just one huge joke to you."

Her tone isn't far from her usual formal one, but it's mixed with realization, too. She realizes that you'll always be like this. It's not your job or your kids or work—it's you. It's all on you.

"But really," she continues, with a small, bitter laugh, "the funny thing is I actually held out hope for you."

She did?

You've been waiting a lifetime to feel something that isn't rage. You're surprised to find out that it would happen, and the thing would be guilt.

"I—I thought that if I did everything I could for you," she says, her fists curling tighter to the beat of every syllable, "for you to get away scot-free, you'd actually put some sense in yourself." She smiles sarcastically. "But I was stupid to think that, wasn't I?"

Everyone's been disappointed in you one way or another. It's no lie that your parents are. There's also a reason why your siblings won't talk to you anymore. But the disappointment riding off Tzuyu's words hurt unexpectedly. It breaks you.

It also, somehow, angers you.

"Get out of my office." She points to the door. "I'm done with you."

"No, you're fucking not," you reply.

Tzuyu's accustomed to your banter and attitude, but that actually stops her in her tracks. She looks at you with disbelief.

Your smile quakes with anger. "We're not done until I say so, Tzuyu."

"That doesn't work on me."

"Come on, let's face it, attorney," you say, stressing the title with false respect. Set your hands on the desk scattered with files and folders. "You like me."

Tzuyu rolls her eyes. "Oh, please, spare me the—"

"No."

Your steps trace a marble path to the back of her desk, to the place that should be off-limits to you. You never raped or anything, but you remain a criminal, and she remains a lawyer who has to set boundaries.

However, all boundaries are crossed when you've got her backed up to the edge of her desk, when her pretty face is centimeters away, and your hands are itching to tear the high fashion uniform off her slender body.

It's the first time you've ever seen Chou Tzuyu scared. Her face is set to a poker expression in the courtroom and out of it, but seeing her parted lips and wide doe eyes ignite your emotions. It's new, it's different, and you love it more than you should.

"Come on, Tzuyu," you press, tilting your head to the side. "You know why you want to keep defending me after all the fuckery I did."

"And what can that be?" Tzuyu asks. Her brows are raised.

Another question, you see. This girl really should stop inquiring about things she knows well the answer to, but, graciously, you say it out loud for her. You're a good guy like that. "Didn't I say it already? You like me. Admit it: you're tired of defending guys who at best stole from Walmart. You want the real horror. You want me."

It's all delusions to grope for the upper hand, but you see Tzuyu's eyes. You can read them well from all the time you've unwillingly(?) spent together, you know that her rare expression of vulnerability means something:

You've caught her.

"Oh." Smile. Your rambling holds some truth after all. "So I'm right. Of course you like me."

"Don't flatter yourself," Tzuyu snaps. She struggles to keep eye contact with you.

"No, no." Guide her face to meet your gaze. "You want some relief. It's not easy being a lawyer, definitely not easier to fall for a psychopath client. But it just happens. You can't control it."

She swallows, looks down, and shakes her head. That's something she's humble enough to admit. "No…"

"Of course. I can give you what you want, you know."

"I don't want anything from you," says Tzuyu. Her eyes fire an unspoken word of caution to you. "You don't know what you're trying to do."

"For a lawyer," you chuckle, "you're a terrible liar. I thought that was the whole thing with you people."

"I told you to leave already."

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere," you say, sliding your hands down to her tiny thing of a waist, "until you tell me what you actually feel."

You can feel Tzuyu's breaths accent the rises and rests of her tight midriff. She's contemplating this over, but she knows that she's grown fond of you. You know this, too. Like you said, there's a reason for her staying with you.

You have to admit you've grown fond of seeing her, too. Her face is more than easy on the eyes. Hearing her as well is an everyday delight; her soft voice is melodious, even when she's describing your crimes.

So, what's there to say?

"It's not right," Tzuyu says. The shakes of her head are too repetitive to be sincere. "I can't be biased towards you. I… I have to be professional."

"It's just you and me, sweet," you quip. Step closer so that her body's flush against your form and her gaze can go nowhere. "Live a little. Who cares if it's wrong?"

"My career—" she tries.

"Tzuyu. Come on. Fuck the convict you want so badly. I put you through enough already."

Understanding passes through her eyes, mingled with hesitation and a sprinkle of fear. She wonders, as she peers at your face from a taller height, how you knew about the whole crush ordeal. Was she too obvious? Flirty? Patient? It can be one or the other, and she'd still have to dial it down.

But her heart skips several beats that her words come unrehearsed. Your hands at her waist, so close yet so far to where she needs them to be, trigger her needs.

So, there it is: she needs you. She has to accept that.

"O-okay," Tzuyu finally agrees.

"There you are. You finally came around."

"Just shut up and fuck me."

"Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?" Your shameless kisses end up on her neck and collarbone that peek through the ends of her blazer and the neckline of her innerwear. "I know you thought about it, Tzuyu. How I'd bend you over on this desk, fuck your brains out, make you cum more times than you can count."

As you pull the blazer from her body, Tzuyu hisses, "Don't get too happy, dickhead."

How unprofessional of her. But you have to admit it feels powerful to be able to extract the most unladylike of words from a woman who'd never dare utter them. And you're just getting started—she's only sitting on the edge of her desk, and not even filled with your cock yet.

Your fingers aren't idle. They appreciate her tall curves and the fullness of her thighs. They even slip under that pencil skirt to feel around for her center.

Of course, you find it. You find it under a layer of flimsy shorts and panties. Tease her clit; have her legs join in attempts to undergo the stimulation.

And then—

"Oh my god," she whines. Tzuyu purses her lips. Curls her fingers at the cliff of the desk. "Feels so good."

"I know it does," says you. "Why don't you return the favor? Jerk off my cock with those pretty hands?"

Her posture becomes too straight to be proper as you press your fingers at her sensitive pink walls. "I've done too much for you. Y-you don't deserve any more favors."

That's fair. She's still a smart girl, even when she's soaking your fingers.

Can she be a good girl? To be a good girl or not to be—that is the question.

"You're right. My cock deserves to be inside you, not just in your hand."

The faster pace has Tzuyu's legs jerking. "Fuck you."

Chuckle. "You are."

Maybe you don't need a handjob as a warm-up. Your cock already erects by itself watching Tzuyu react and moan to your digits pumping in and out of her. Her beautiful arms, free from the blazer, struggle and strain to stay upwards with how quick you're fingerfucking her. Her unkempt whines are so unlike her that there's complete pride inside of you, an arrogance, even, that's birthed from the fact that you make her like this. You're so fucked up that it turns her on when it shouldn't, and now that you're fucking her, the immorality of everything gets her wet.

"P-please," she says. Her doe eyes are watery with need.

She's never said that outside of the courtroom, where she says that only for formality's sake. But here she is, anyway, begging you for something she'll have to spell out if she doesn't want you to go crazy and fuck her in every corner of her office.

Maybe that's what you'd do anyway.

"What is it, Tzuyu?" you ask. Your fingers strain while the heel of your hand hits and rubs her clit. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need."

"Please," again, "faster. Oh my god, that's all I ever want, please go faster."

No more do her legs close. Rather, they part. They welcome your thrusts and rubs. She's completely allowing you to fuck her, despite how wrong it is and how it can screw up your future trials. Bias this and bias that are things she doesn't care about anymore. All she knows is that her nipples ache to be pinched, and her pussy awaits more of your thrusts because she's close. So close that she could taste euphoria already.

"Should I go rougher, hm?"

"Please, fffuck, I don't know." As you squeeze one of her handful-sized breasts, she bites her lip hard. "Just fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, make me c-cum—"

When Tzuyu orgasms, it's messy yet quiet. Her formality shows up even in sex. Her moans are tight and so is her pussy as it clenches down on your fulfilling digits, and you have to perk your ears up to hear her sounds of pleasure. She's still a quiet girl, barely talkative (though you've managed to pull a few pleas out of her already), and you're completely trying to change that with your pumps.

Your lips create a purple bruise on her neck. Tzuyu sighs and gasps helplessly. She's wetting your fingers like a flood, and you keep provoking the natural yet woman-made disaster; you drag your fingers at her velvety, weak spots and venture deeper.

You don't have to ask her if it was good. She's panting heavily, and sucks on the soaked fingers you've led to her face to calm herself down. Watching her pink lips work away at your hand, as if she were suckling something completely different, makes you more turned on. Her warm wet mouth deserves to be somewhere else rather than just your pointer and middle.

"Now that wasn't so bad," you say. Draw them out of her mouth. "You didn't leave any for me to taste. How selfish."

"You still could." Tzuyu points to her mouth.

It's clear that she's wanted you to kiss her forever. When your lips press against her mouth, she immediately slips her tongue inside. You return the favor, but also to have her own self-made taste of love.

As expected, she's fucking delicious.

You hold her head in place as the two of you kiss for seconds that felt like hours. After, you're breathless.

"You're a good kisser," she comments.

"You want me to tell you what else is good?"

"Oh, please. Show, not tell."

Your belt's off and soon, your trousers are as well. Tzuyu's gazing at your hard cock with admiration. It just boosts your pride and arrogance—you can never tell the difference between the two when they mix and match with each other so often.

"No one told me criminals had big dicks," says Tzuyu. She skates her hand on your cock, stroking it softly. Her eyes have left it and instead seal on your faltering gaze.

"You learn something new everyday." Try not to make your shuddering breaths obvious when she starts jerking you off. "You like?"

"I think… I think I want to suck it."

"Go ahead. No one's stopping you."

"There're a lot of people stopping me," she informs you. "If they find out I'm fucking a client, then what?"

She doesn't live up to her words of concern because she hops off the table cleanly and kneels anyway. Her small face looks even tinier next to your cock. And you realize now how her mouth is miniscule too after she wraps her lips around your cockhead.

You shiver.

Tzuyu's staring again.

This time, her large eyes are directed up at you. She doesn't have to focus on your dick when her mouth is doing it for her. With each harsh swipe of her tongue on your tip and the drawing of her mouth closer to the base, your cock grows wetter with her drool and precum.

"Your mouth is amazing, Tzuyu," you say. You're not afraid to admit that.

She responds to you not with words, but with more suckling. She closes her lips around your base then slowly brings her mouth up. She repeats this cycle of pleasure until your whole rod is coated with her. When she feels you throb in her orifice, she giggles—what's more satisfying than seeing the guy who put her through hell become weak?

You're in a daze of your own, too. As much as you like seeing Tzuyu dominate the court with her steady voice and no-nonsense look, she looks so much better when she's on her knees. When her hands wrap your hips to thrust her head forward and force your length down her tight throat. When the usually serious look in her eyes fades into obscurity and is replaced with an almost innocent look that says "come on, use me, fuck my mouth."

That's exactly what you do anyway. You don't need her prodding to fuck her pretty face.

Tzuyu's hums vibrate on your sensitive flesh. The back of your cock slides deliciously on her tongue and almost all of your rod slides down her throat. It bulges; you can tell even without looking down. She's a slim girl after all. It's easy to fuck and fold and use her. This situation isn't any different.

"Yeah, that's it," you say, grinning. "Take my cock, Tzuyu. Take it like a good girl."

Her ears burn. Her thighs squirm together, and that's how you find out that she might like being called a good girl more than you'd think. Stroking her hair that looks like it was personally woven with real gold has her whining. You can't believe the tough lawyer has a submissive side, too.

Has she done this before? She seems to be taking the thrusts to the back of her throat well. Perhaps she simply enjoys this. You'll never know.

"I'm gonna cum, Tzuyu," you announce. "You better swallow it all like the slut you are."

Her cheeks hollow as your cum fills her mouth. Her lips remain sealed on your tip so the flow of your semen ends up nowhere but inside her.

After you pull out, you realize then that you've just fucked your lawyer's face. It's like everything was a lucid dream that eventually blended into reality, because there's Tzuyu, still kneeling and gulping down your cum, and your cock out in the open between your bare legs. There are lines you've crossed before, but you never thought you'd do the same to the boundary that's been set between you and Tzuyu.

Where's the rage you felt earlier? Why does arousal take its place?

"I'm not a slut, by the way," says Tzuyu airily. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm not your good girl either."

"Oh, alright. Does that mean you won't let me fuck you?"

"Jerk," she spits. "Your cock isn't even that big."

"I guess I should leave then. You were a good fuck, Tzuyu."

Turn your heel with faux intention to exit, like she's told you to do earlier, but you're pulled towards her again. She tugs your wrist and pulls you to herself, her ass snug against the edge of the table and you pressed against her slim frame.

Okay, so—

"I fucking hate you." Tzuyu tears the buttons off your shirt with a clean rip, and kisses your chest. Your neck. Grabs your waist to ensure that you're going nowhere. " I hate that you're so fucking annoying. I hate that I can't spend all day fucking myself on your huge cock."

"Did you just say I had a huge cock?"

"Like I said," Tzuyu snarls, "shut up."

Whatever snarky response you could have come up with on the spot is lost into an embarrassingly loud moan. She's forced your still sensitive cock inside her, and now her hips are dancing forward and back. It's a dance of death with how it bears its weight on your mind and girth.

"Thought I told you to be quiet," she says smugly.

Her skirt has ridden up her waist. You take advantage of this to get a feel for her thighs. They're slim yet round at the same time, creating the perfect balance that fits your squeezing hands. Tug on them to pull her closer. Your remaining inches make it past her folds, and Tzuyu moans in delight.

"And I thought you didn't like me," you say. But it's difficult to be cocky when her tight little pussy is just that good, squeezing you as if determined to drain your might and taking you good and well.

Tzuyu scoots her wide hips side to side, arms sedentary on the sides of the table as she rests down on it, and bites her lip. Intentional or not, it's too fucking sexy. "Things change."

So, that's how it works out: your lawyer on the flat of her desk, above scattered piles of papers describing your crimes and issuing your statements, with her legs spread around your midriff and receiving your cock as a traveller in the desert would receive water. She's desperate, is what you're saying—her gasps are timed to the beat of your thrusts, and she's accompanying it with soft curses. This whole sex thing could be a song, you see. Tzuyu can play the vocals, and her cleavage that bounces behind her vest could be looped and made into a matching music video. It's just so perfect.

"So good, you're so good," she sighs, her mind addled with thoughts of you ruining her insides and, probably, fill her up with semen. "Fuck me harder. Touch me. Use me, my god, just fuck me."

You pull up her vest to devour her breasts. The brown nipples end up in your mouth, suckled on and chewed, while the softness of her small tits are relished with squeezes. Tzuyu whimpers quietly, volume hushed down as it always is with her. Although her quiet whines turn you on, it's the will inside you to have the silent lawyer screaming that propels your thrusts. Drives them with a purpose that's so specific your hips could have a mind of their own.

Dragging her vest off her torso is how you see that your cock is bulging through her tight midriff. The lines of her abs hide not your cock forcing yourself through her hole. Tzuyu notices it, too, and you feel her become wetter underneath you, because she loves it. She loves how wrong this is, how she's letting a person she shouldn't even be acquaintances with outside of her career use her like a doll.

"P-please," she says (for the millionth time, yes, but you'll never grow tired of hearing it.)

"Should I go harder?" Do exactly that, rutting her against the table, even without her answer. "Rub this little thing here?"

Tzuyu cries out. There's a completed mission—you've finally forced her to scream, and it's all thanks to your thumb toying with her clit.

"Oh my god!" she yelps. She looks at you with eyes filled with shock at how good it feels. "Oh my god, yes, keep doing that! It feels so—fuck!"

"Keep screaming like that and I'll make you cum. Do you want to cum, Tzuyu?"

She nods dumbly. "Yes, make me cum. M-make me cum around that stupid big dick, I love it so much, please!"

You're reaching places inside her that her own fingers couldn't embark to. The bulge on her stomach goes farther, and you think of how you're rearranging her guts so deliciously, how she's pounding at the table in frustration and pleasure and screaming, and how you can give her bliss with just a few more pumps.

Your thrusts hold purpose—they're driven by Tzuyu's boobs lifting with the creaks of her desk, the squeeze of her pussy as it swallows you whole, the helpless look on her face. She's so beautiful, really, and you're glad to be able to—

"Gonna make me cum!" she wails. "Gonna make me cum, gonna make me cum, don't fucking stop!"

Tzuyu's pleasure reaches an all-time high. She clenches as hard as her muscles can bear and screams. Her throat must be sore because of that, so you don't forget to kiss all over it as you extract a violent orgasm from her with rough, untimed pumps.

She's shivering, eyes unfocused. She's rambling senseless words that don't quite give clues to what they should be comprehended as.

That's exactly what you want.

You pull out. "I want to fuck your thighs." Show so after that: slip your dick in between her soft, supple skin, and add, "Gonna explode on that fucking stomach."

"W-why not inside me?" whines Tzuyu. She closes her eyes as your cock unintentionally brushes over her folds and prods at her bundle of nerves.

"You're already fighting to give me custody of my kid," you chuckle. "What makes you think I want another?"

Tzuyu manages a laugh. You're too laser-focused on fucking her thighs though to appreciate her first love beauty when she smiles, since you're as close as you can be. With the soft flesh holding your length captive as you pray for your soul not to be by the eyes of justice, you have no choice but to do what you said: cum on her tight midriff.

White above tan skin is a beautiful color on your lawyer.

"You're… you're a little evil, you know that?" Tzuyu makes out. She glances at the puddle of cum on her rising stomach with fascination.

"Oh, love." Lean down to kiss her, with your arm pillaring the space on the table not occupied with paperwork. "You're just now figuring that out?"

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #twice smut #chou tzuyu smut #tzuyu smut #twice tzuyu smut #idol x male reader #idol x reader #male reader #reader insert #pov smut #x reader

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theonethatwatchesalotofshows · 10 months ago

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I don't understand where this: "Rory is used to people treating her as the center of the universe." thing is coming from.

She is literally just a normal girl from a small town and in small towns people know each other, hence why the townspeople greet her and her mother and try to find out the tea about them. As someone who lives in a small town, I know how much people there love to gossip, so it is very realistic. Also notice how most of the townspeople paying attention to Rory are either her mother's friends who will obviously have an emotional attachment to her since they watched her grow up or people like Taylor who directly want something from her (to guilt her into volunteering for town events). She is not a town celebrity by any means.

Yes, her family on her mother side loves her and spoils her but that is nothing unusual. People forget that the family on her father's side doesn't love her and they even see her as "a mistake" or even "an embarrassment".

Her teachers seem to like her a normal amount but that's only because she's good in school and stays out of trouble, but you never see teachers fawning over her and let her get away with things when she gets into serious trouble (like missing the test or breaking into school to ring that bell). I don't remember a single instance when a teacher gave Rory some kind of extra treatment just because she's "the center of the universe" as antis love to claim.

And as for her peers, she is literally not popular! She struggles socially at school and we are shown that in the pilot in Stars Hollow high and in Chilton. Her only friend is Lane, other girls in SHH call her a nerd and raise their eyebrows at her, in Chilton she doesn't fit in among the rich spoiled kids and is constantly seen sitting alone at lunch and she is surprised by Dean's and Tristan's attention because it is the first time that guys are giving her any attention! She even can't believe it at first, that's how not used to it she is.

I am writing all of this because a video I watched yesterday breaking down Gilmore Girls season by season said that "Logan's parents are the first people that didn't treat Rory like the center of the universe" which is plain untrue, there were plenty of people before that- the girls from the pilot were taunting Rory behind her back for being a nerd, Mrs Kim doesn't like Rory, girls at Chilton especially Paris hated Rory at first, didn't Headmaster Charleston literally threaten to expell Rory because she was struggling with grades and then threw a fit when she missed her test?, Rory's own father seems very indifferent to her and when he shows up he pays more attention to Lorelei than her, her paternal grandparents hate her and call her "a mistake" to her face, Lindsay didn't like Rory simply because she is her boyfriend's ex even before they started their affair, that guy from the laundry room that rejected her ... need I go on?

So no, Rory isn't some kind of child star or wunderkind that everyone fawns over, she is just a girl that adults around her like a normal amount because she is smart and stays out of trouble, but also keep in mind that when she actually does act out or get in trouble, she falls off the pedestal and people are not very forgiving. It is a double edged sword. But to claim that she is some kind of celebrity or Queen Bee of Stars Hollow is just plain wrong.

#rory gilmore defense #gilmore girls

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luminouslywriting · 6 months ago

Note

Ok weird request, Bob headcannons them getting hard and moaning by accident while your not in a relathionship, things can escalate from there or not ,obviously if you don't feel comfortable writing this that's totally fine.

Oh Nonny this one was delightfully wicked and so fun haha! As always, enjoy and reminder that my requests are open! Feel free to spam me as much as you'd like haha! I'm taking the day off and lounging by the pool to help me feel better so I'm pretty pleased with that!

More under the cut, cut for length, spice under the cut:

Dick Winters:

-Mortified to the max

-Like this man is a blushing upset mess and apologizing and stammering out how it was an accident

-Will not look you in the eyes for several days or weeks, depending on how loud the moan was haha

-Probably tells Nixon about it because he's so embarrassed and Nixon teases him about it

-This is not going to help him in his feelings for you and is going to be something that he wants to genuinely forget and hope that you forget.

-Though if you thought it was hot and admit it to him, he'll be super flattered and will definitely finally make a move.

Lewis Nixon:

-Probably drunk when he does it and not as embarrassed as he should be?? The thing about him is that he knew he was drunk and it was a normal human response

-He'll definitely apologize when he sobers up about things but it's not a weird point between the two of you

-Might even attempt to get himself soberly locked in the closet with you so that he can do it again sober

-And at that point, handsy makeout session that absolutely ends in someone walking in on the two of you

-But at least you two get together by the end of it??

Ronald Speirs:

-Internally embarrassed and feeling like the WORST, externally really chill about it as you reassure him that it's perfectly normal and fine

-He definitely overthinks and hyperfixates on this for WAY too long and is trying to figure out if he actually likes you or if he's just physically attracted to you

-But when he finally figures it out, it's this really simple statement about how it's not just a physical reaction and how he really likes you

-This might result in locking yourselves in the nearest bedroom and figuring out how to make more of those pretty moans that you heard haha

-Turns out, you're just as in love with him as he is with you and he's perfectly pleased with that

-Wonders what would've happened if he had actually figured it out sooner because he's really happy with you

Buck Compton:

-Stammering an apology and blushing

-Will absolutely need some space so he can recover his pride and not be super embarrassed or a wreck around you

-Probably writes out an apology to you because he doesn't want you to feel weird around him

-Then further writes a little letter about how he actually feels and you find said letter by mistake

-So if you go up and kiss him, then all will work out on its own haha

-Happy if it all works out in the end

Carwood Lipton:

-Immediate apologies and avoiding eye contact. He knows he's messed up somehow and he is NOT the type to do that to a lady.

-It will take you approaching him about the situation and about your feelings for him to actually make a move.

-Even then, he's super shy about the moaning and feels embarrassed whenever it happens.

-Keep practicing with him though, he'll get more comfortable being vocal haha

-Or purposely try to tease him in public and he'll figure out what works for him REAL quick, I promise haha

-Either way, he's consistently embarrassed about it throughout your relationship whenever it happens though

Joseph Liebgott:

-Let's say for the sake of his personality, this was intentional on your part because he hadn't made a move yet. So whatever sort of teasing that you did to make it happen, he's just gonna roll with it.

-Initially a little embarrassed but it fades quickly

-This turns into the world's fastest makeout session with the both of you getting handsy

-Public teasing for the two of you? Absolutely a fact of matter in your newfound relationship

-Don't worry, he fully intends on getting you back for the fact that you technically made the first move in the relationship—and you'll get your dues in full honey

-Never shy about his moaning or the fact that he's hard—he will tell you and he will expect to have it taken care of post-haste haha

Donald Malarkey:

-Swearing up a panicked storm about it because NO, FOUL, it was an accident

-Requires a whole 48 hours of space because he's literally so embarrassed and not having it with you

-Also comes back to you and admits that there's only one person he wants to have him help take care of things and it's you

-It might be the weirdest sweetest thing you've ever heard??

-But I digress—he is NOT into teasing in any way, but any sort of physical contact he can have with you is a turn on for him.

-Clingy king to the max after this

Eugene Roe:

-French swears, French swears, French swears, mortification, feeling a little humbled lol

-Apologizes very quickly and tries to get space

-But if you grab his arm and kiss him, he loses all track of where his mindset was and not a single brain cell will be present

-Offer to take care of things for him—he'll probably tell you that he loves you in the middle of it

-And then he'll insist on taking care of YOU at that point

-This absolutely turns into soft and sweet sex with doc haha

Bill Guarnere:

-Also swears and feels super bad about it because he doesn't want you to feel like you HAVE to do anything with him

-Locate this man immediately and find a nice wall that you can talk near, because that wall is about to become the only thing holding you up lol

-Listen, if you admit that you didn't mind and that you were also turned on by what he did, he's going to go FERAL

-I'm talking holding your hands above you head as he kisses you and trying to keep the both of you quiet because he's got a LOT of feelings

-Is a pretty vocal guy so you might have to wait for some actual alone time before anything gets taken care of or done haha

-Either way, you two end up together pretty quickly

Joe Toye:

-Apologizes, removes himself from the situation, tries not to think about it ever again

-Thinks about it WAY TOO much though and ends up trying to take care of things himself for a while

-Until he decides that it's just not gonna work and he can't do it without you....

-At which point, he locates you, admits how he's feeling, and says that he hopes to have some time alone with you soon

-Still tries to make things really romantic between the two of you and special

-Consistently dreams about you until you get together, and then he's much worse haha

George Luz:

-This sweet loudmouth lets that moan slip and he knows immediately that he's colossally messed up

-But uh, in the event you're not bothered by that, he's going to be even more turned on and vocal

-This quickly descends into sex for the two of you

-But you're not together together yet?? So it requires some conversations afterwards for it to turn into a relationship

-He's still trying to figure out his feelings and you might be the person to say that you love him first

-At that point, he's so enamored and committed to you that it's a win-win situation haha

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elliesflower · 2 years ago

Text

i saw you in a dream [7]

summary; it's winter break and that guitar has got to go.

chapter; 7/10 2.3k words

cw (per chapter); language, angst, TW: CAT >:(

an; hellaaaaurrrrrr i don't have much to say except ur all amazing and wonderful and thank u so much for loving this story so hard. i love u all more than words. (also sorry not much ellie in this chapter, next chap will be longer and most likely have smut teehee) ((also this isn't proof read so sorry if there's weird mistakes i'll go back nd fix later ok love u bye!!))

Your last interaction with Ellie had you feeling pretty defeated. You had thought that maybe you were getting somewhere—but now, with Cat in the picture, you were ready to give up.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” Dina threatened when you explained the whole story. You shook your head, laughing. “Seriously, she has no right to fuck with your emotions like that.”

“Dee, it’s fine. I wouldn’t call it ‘fucking with me,’ either. Relationships can be messy and break ups are even messier. You of all people should know that.”

“Don’t you fucking dare even mention that disgusting, vile creature,” she pretended to gag at the thought of her ex. All the verbal abuse she had to endure, you’re amazed she lasted so long with them in the first place. “But seriously. You guys had a vibe. That was fucked up of her to not even mention it. It obviously seemed like she was intentionally keeping it from you.”

You pursed your lips, looking down at your hands as you picked at your cuticles.

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, shrugging your shoulders. You wanted to believe that Ellie wouldn’t do that to you. Realistically, you understood you barely knew her—the two of you had spent less than a full day together. Maybe it was silly to think she was letting you see her heart.

“No, no, don’t do that,” Dina pointed a finger at you accusingly. “Don’t do that hopeless romantic shit you always do. I’m telling you how it is.”

“Okay, and maybe it is,” you agreed. “But—”

“Hello?! No ‘but’s!’ You need to forget about her. You don’t want to get tangled up in that mess, trust me,” she was speaking from experience, and you knew this. You wanted to believe Dina was right. Who would want to be caught up in lesbian ex-girlfriend drama? And yes, the lesbian part makes a difference. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline of a new crush—the yearning to be in a relationship, so strong you feel like you’d do anything, anything to be with that person, no matter what they’ve done, no matter what they say. Lust can be dangerous.

“Okay, okay,” you gave in. “I’ll leave it alone.”

Dina squinted at you curiously. She probably didn’t believe you, but it didn’t matter. You knew she had your back, always. She’d never do something you weren’t okay with, and she’d forgive you if you did go crawling back to Ellie. Which was still very much…up in the air.

“That’s what I thought,” she said with a smirk, but it wasn’t very definitive.

The next few days were…weird, to say the least. With Christmas quickly approaching, the amount of people on campus slowly thinned out—Dina included. She was heading east to be with her family for the holidays, which left you alone in your dorm for a few days. You spent most of the time aimlessly scrolling on your phone, confirming next term’s classes, and making last-minute holiday plans with your own family. It was all very…mundane.

Which is a weird feeling; your outside life being so normal, while your brain was scrambling trying to make sense of your feelings about the whole Ellie situation. It had been over a week, and she hadn’t texted. Neither had you, but you weren’t sure what was left to say. You wanted to side with Dina, leave Ellie in the past and let Cat have her.

But the other part of you—the hopeless, yearning sapphic—wanted to reach out. Every time you saw a short-haired redhead from the back, your heart rate increased. It was a little pathetic, if you were being honest, the way your heart fell when they’d turn around and it was not in fact Ellie coming to reconcile. It made you want to call her; want to see her; want to see if the two of you could really become something, after all; want to know what else spilled from her lips when she was high, and anything else she’d give you.

It sure didn’t help that everytime you walked into your dorm you were stared down by the guitar you were really regretting buying instead of renting. Now that you didn’t have a….teacher, anymore, you were sure it’d just start collecting dust over there in the corner.

“Fuck it,” you mumbled to yourself one day after you’d been staring at the case for far too long, deciding you were going to take it down to the student store and see what they’d offer you for it.

The weather was bitterly cold, but it surprisingly wasn’t raining. You zipped your coat up all the way to your chin, readjusting the guitar strap over your shoulder as you walked across campus to the store. Today was the last day it’d be open before they closed for the holidays, so naturally the store was eerily empty, aside from the two students working behind the counter.

You let your fingers trail across a few cute embroidered journals on your way up to the counter, where a very unenthusiastic student turned to greet you.

“What can I help you with?” They asked flatly, resting their elbows on the wooden counter that separated the two of you.

“Uh, I was hoping to see how much y’all would give me for this guitar,” you explained, hoisting the case up to the counter and unlocking it. Upon flipping the top, the worker gave out a low whistle of appreciation.

“Has it ever even been used? It’s in perfect condition,” they said, grabbing the neck to pull it out and examine it.

“Uh, just a handful of times…I took the class for one semester,” you explained, one hand subconsciously rising to rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“And you didn’t just rent one?”

Okay, well damn.

“Wasn’t thinking, I guess…” There’s nothing like a stranger confirming what you already knew to make you feel even worse about your initial purchase. They gave you an amused smile before leaning the guitar against the back of the counter.

“Give me a minute to run some numbers,” and luckily, they didn’t mention your stupid purchase again, and retreated to a computer. You leaned over the counter as well, pulling out your phone to mindlessly scroll. The electronic door chime sounded from behind you and the other employee shouted a greeting across the store. You didn’t pay it any attention until you heard a very distinct voice respond.

“Oh my gosh, it is freezing out there!”

Your whole body tensed, your grip on your phone becoming tighter as she started to chatter away—of course her striking presence had the other employee out of their seat, smile plastered across their face as they made their way over to continue chatting with…her.

Of fucking course.

The whole point of coming here was to get this little part of Ellie out of your room—and now, an arguably bigger part of Ellie just came waltzing through the doors. You made it a point to keep looking at your phone, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of your attention. Even though she definitely had it, how could she not? Her voice was sickeningly sweet, even though it somehow made you feel sour, resonating over the quiet music playing in the store.

“Elliott, you are such a riot!” She laughed from behind you. Her vernacular was straight out of a sixties romance movie, and you wondered briefly if that just added to her charm. You’d known girls like her—you know the ones who have to swear up and down that they’re not like other girls, when in reality, they are like clones roaming the earth. They all have the same cadence, the same attitude, the same god complex. Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to be so blissfully ignorant.

“Alright,” the clerk said after another grating minute of you trying to remain undetected. “This is the best I can do for you.” They at least had the decency to look apologetic as they slid you a scribbled note. You blinked down at the number.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled. The offer was less than half of what you originally paid for it. Not that you were expecting a miracle, but this was a little insulting. “You said it was in perfect condition…”

“I know,” they agreed, putting up their hands defensively. “There’s only so much I can do. I have to go by the school’s policies.”

You frowned at the note for a moment, wishing nothing more than to go back in time and never sign up for that stupid guitar class. Or even if you did, you wished you’d never seen that stupid flier on that stupid tree on this stupid campus—maybe then you wouldn’t be stuck with your heart in your throat, choked up listening to Ellie’s ex-girlfriend slash roommate filling up the room with her stupidly charming personality.

Wait a second, did she leave? Her voice disappeared, and the second clerk was returning back behind the desk. Maybe you should—

“Oh, c’mon,” she was peering over your shoulder in an instant, invading your space and making you flinch. Her floral perfume overwhelmed your nose, her black and silver bracelets tinkling as she examined the note on the counter. “We can do better than that, no?” Her arm was pressing your bicep, she was so close to you, you could hear her breathing and see her perfectly styled hair framing her sharp cheekbones. You were so taken aback by her boldness, by her invasiveness, you found yourself nodding.

She looked over at you, and her teeth were like pearls, shiny and probably not real. You just blinked at her, acutely aware that your expression was most likely not very kind.

“Look, Cat,” the clerk started, and of course they knew her name. “You know I have to follow university protocols for these kinds of things.”

“C’mon, Dakota,” and yeah, of course she knew their name too. “There’s nothing you can do? For old times sake?” She leaned onto her elbows, resting her chin in her hands with a dopey look on her face. Good god, is this a joke? If so, it wasn’t very funny, because Dakota was now suppressing a grin, grabbing the paper off the counter before glancing at you briefly.

“Let me see what I can do,” they smiled, returning to the computer. You wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Not that it would make much of a difference, anyways. You were pretty much invisible until Cat showed up anyways.

“Well, that’s more like it!” Cat grinned, crossing her arms and leaning a hip against the counter, facing you. “Nice to see you again, by the way.” An afterthought.

You forced a smile back, your deeply embedded people-pleasing outweighing your disdain.

“Cat,” you went straight for the formalities. You wanted to get out of here as quickly as humanly possible. “Likewise.”

“You left so quickly last week I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye!” She exclaimed, reaching out to grab your shoulder. It was like she was from another planet. “Ellie’s been talking about you.” You really hoped her otherworldliness didn’t give her the power of supersonic hearing, because she may have heard your heart fall into your stomach at the mention of Ellie’s name. But perhaps, she still did anyway, because she was cocking her head ever so slightly, crossing her arms over her chest again.

“Oh, yeah I wasn’t…feeling great,” and it wasn’t a complete lie. You’re amazed you didn’t throw up all over the both of them the minute Cat got all handsy with Ellie. Cat still looked at you sideways, like she was waiting for you to respond to her comment about Ellie. No way she was talking about you with Cat. It had to be a ruse. You chewed at your bottom lip nervously, averting your gaze to fidget with your hands rather than be trapped. But she wasn’t giving up.

“Well, she’s been going on and on about how she was so happy she could help you pass your final,” she said, and half of her words were punctuated with a hand gesture. Your heart wa thrumming in your ears. “She said you were a quick learner and so eager to play guitar. I just didn’t take you for a quitter, the way she talks about you!”

Talks. Present tense. Fuck, she was good at this.

“A quitter?”

“Well, you’re pawning off your guitar,” she said matter-of-factly. You furrowed your brow, but quickly let it smooth out.

“I never planned to play guitar long-term. Ellie knew that.” Or at least you thought she did. Cat was making it really fucking hard to tell what was real or not. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, before she was standing up straighter and shaking a few jet-black tendrils of hair from her face.

“Well, then,” and she was no longer holding back. Her eyes very blatantly scanned you, up and down before she continued. “Let’s see what we can get you for this guitar then, yeah?”

And as if on cue, Dakota returned to the counter. They walked straight to Cat as if you had never existed in the first place.

“Alright, how’s this?” He slid the note over, and the number was significantly higher. You felt like a second class citizen. You were fuming—not that they would notice as they looked into each other’s eyes like they were Romeo and Juliet or something. How is it that Cat can weasel her way into everything that’s yours?

Hah. As if Ellie was ever yours.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie tlou #ellie tlou pt 2 #the last of us #the last of us pt 2

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