#he wanted her attention in any way he could | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grandline-fics · 1 day ago

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Hey, can I get op boys>reaction to a child or anybody else hugging you,the way momonosuke hugged nami. It's okay if you don't want to do it.

DESCRIPTION: Their reaction to a child stealing your attention and affection

WARNINGS: slight insecurities/jealousy I guess but nothing serious

CHARACTERS: Shanks, Luffy

WORDS: 1,564

A/N: Hey there and thank you for sending in this request. I had a lot of fun thinking of how to make this scenario work and decided to just stick with two characters this time. If you want to request any other characters, please do. I hope this was to your liking 😊

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI

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SHANKS

It was a sure bet that everyone would naturally go to Shanks. It was a given that he was the most popular member of the crew. He was the Captain after all and any island you stopped at, he just had a way about him that charmed practically everyone in the vicinity. Ordinarily that was the case. Today it was almost the same, apart from one exception to the norm. You had an admirer and Shanks never had a problem with that because you always let them down kindly but firmly, only having eyes for him. This though? This was uncharted territory. You were staring at your clingy admirer with the warmest smile and his eyes narrowed. This was war.

Abruptly Ben nudged his shoulder and he looked as his right-hand man and closest friend pulled up the stool beside him. Shanks scoffed at Beckman’s unbridled amusement at his Captain’s sulking and very clear displeasure at what he was witnessing. From across the room your laughter drifted up and Shanks’s gaze snapped immediately to you, his glare sharpening. Nothing could be that funny, not without him. “Cap…relax. They’re-”

“A snake. They know exactly what they’re doing.” Shanks muttered, lifting his drink to his mouth as he glared at the snake in question, stealing you from him.

“They’re one, Shanks.” Beck reminded his Captain with his grin broadening. “You aren’t getting insecure because of a baby are you?”

“This food better be worth it.” Shanks grumbled. Stopping here was only because everyone was hungry and wanted to eat and drink together before separating to begin gathering supplies for the next leg of the stretch at sea. When you all entered you were met with a friendly but very stressed woman, trying to manage serving customers while also looking after her son. Her son in question stared with wide eyes at the arrival of the Red Haired Pirates, shy but curious. Then his gaze fell to you and he squirmed in his mother’s hold while stretching to get to you, immediately besotted.

You had no issue with helping keep the baby entertained since it helped his mother out and meant you could all still get something to eat and drink. As you held the baby close you couldn’t help but smile when the little boy let out a long yawn, using his fist to rub at his eyes. Finally you took a seat on the other side of Shanks and settled in the hopes he’d fall asleep. You finally broke your gaze away from the adorable little face to look at Shanks and Benn. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Yeah, adorable.” Shanks forced out, eyeing his tiny rival with a scowl. “Why don’t you let me take over?”

“I don’t mind, plus he’s falling asleep I don’t want to unsettle him.” You smiled, watching Shanks as he reached his hand out. The baby in your arms, half-asleep eyed Shanks with equal disdain. With an incoherent but very obvious noise of rejection, the baby’s fists latched tightly into your shirt and he nuzzled his head into your chest. “See? He’s comfy.”

Shanks knew better than anyone how comfy it was to lie against you and be wrapped in your arms. His eyes narrowed when the baby threw him one last look- pure smugness, Shanks saw-before he closed his eyes and feel asleep. Seeing the baby drift off and still maintain his vicelike grip on your close made you all but melt. “Shanks, how long are we staying on this island for?”

“We’re leaving as soon as the ship is restocked.”

“So soon?” You asked in surprise. Ordinarily you all stayed to relax and interact with the locals. Even short stops on islands would be a few days. It had been a long time since Shanks had made a decision like this. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah just really itching to get back to sea is all. We can’t laze around when we’ve got treasures to find and adventures to have.” You arched an eyebrow at Shanks’ explanation. When he turned his head to grab his drink you looked over his shoulder to throw a questioning look to Beck. Subtly the man dropped his gaze to the baby in your arms and mouthed ‘jealous’ making you grin.

Rolling your eyes at how the most laidback man in the world you decided to fall in love with could be so ridiculous at times. Shifting your chair closer you lay your back against his side and reached up to press a soft peck against his cheek. “Love you, you big baby.”

“Love you too.” Shanks grinned down at you, wrapping his arm around you to hold you closer. “Make sure to say that again though when the little brat wakes up. He needs to know I’m the winner.”

LUFFY

“Hey you little brat let go of them!”

“Make me!”

“I. Said. Let. Go.”

“Nuh-uh! You’re not the boss of me. Just go away and leave us alone, stupid hat!”

“Stupid hat?!” Luffy repeated with an angry glare, looking to you sharply with wide eyes, silently checking if you heard the added insult to him. It was nearly as bad as the fact some little kid was clinging to you happily with their arms tightly around your neck with no sign of letting go. You could only shrug and smile, it was just a little kid. You’d been the one to save them from an attacking enemy so of course they would be more attached to you than any of the others on the crew. The boy was harmless but Luffy was acting like he was top of the list of people he wanted to beat on his quest to be King of the Pirates. “Say it again brat! I dare you!”

“Stuuuupid haaaat!” The little kid leant further in to Luffy’s face, stretching out the insult with a taunting grin and defiance in his eyes that would have been something Luffy would have respected had it been directed at anyone else. Satisfied, the little boy relaxed back against you and stuck his tongue out at your seething Captain and boyfriend. Luffy snarled and grabbed the child’s ankle, ready to pull them off of you. The boy only let out an overly dramatic squeal and tucked their head under your chin. “No!! Stop him! He’s scaring me!”

“Luffy, c’mon be nice. Please?” You asked settling your hand soothingly over Luffy’s hand to make him stop immediately. This was meant to be a party to celebrate another victory for the crew and for some reason Luffy was getting confrontational with a child instead of enjoying himself and eating all the food on offer. “They’re only doing it because they know it’s annoying you.”

“But-”

“I know, I know.” You spoke softly, lifting your hand from his to affectionately run your fingers along the rim of his hat. “I love your hat, it’s not stupid to me.”

“It’s only stupid because he’s wearing it.” The little boy muttered sourly, turning his head to glare at the fact you were giving Luffy a compliment. “It’d look great on you though.”

“Awww thank you.” You smiled, relieved that they hadn’t been too scared by Luffy. It was no wonder he was acting up, after finally being free from the group of pirates terrorising his home he was finally getting to act like a child again and not have to worry about living in fear from you or the rest of the crew. “I think you’d look cool with a hat like Luffy’s too.”

“He can keep his hat.” You held back your initial urge to laugh but still you grinned when his arms tightened around your neck. “He gets his hat, and I get you!”

“Wh- WHAT?!“ Luffy shouted, the calm you’d managed to evoke with him disappearing faster than the food in the fridge when Sanji’s back was turned. “You can’t have them, they’re mine!”

Once again the shouting picked up and you were stuck between the two, listening to the fight and bicker over you with vicious possessiveness. You were jostled when the little boy moved to perch himself on your back, shouting over your shoulder as Luffy’s arms wrapped around your body so he could get into the kid’s face as they argued back and forth about who you were going to stay with, not that either of them thought to ask your opinion on that fact. Having no choice you were helpless and just had to stand there as these two equally persistent energies until finally they both tired themselves out and in unison they fell asleep, slumping over but keeping their grips on you as tight as ever. Sighing you managed to drag yourself over to an empty seat and awkwardly sit down despite the hinderances having two people clinging to you brought.

Eventually the boy’s mother came across your predicament and managed to lift her son off of you, leaving you to just have Luffy hold you possessively but that was something you were used to at night. Alone you smiled at your boyfriend. Yes it was childish of him to take the little boy’s infatuation with you seriously but it was reassuring that if he fought for you this fiercely then it meant you really had nothing to fear if anyone else came sniffing around you.

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TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall , @redwolfxx , @jevoislesbrasdemer , @schanwow

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threeacttragedy · 1 day ago

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Entry 18: The One Where Two Roads Diverged in a Wood of GIFs and Written Words

“Lukola Crisis Hotline. How may I be of service?”

Me: Houston, we have a problem.

Dad: Do tell!

Me: You won’t believe who showed up last night! –

Dad: Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness! Whoa! I don’t know what to say! Wait – let me grab my Coke and my smokes. <waiting> Okay, I’m back. So, Misty appeared out of nowhere with Thang?! Well, this just got fun! <laughing>

For clarity’s sake, my father tends to give everyone a pet name. Some of the pet names are funny; some are quite cruel. But if they help him remember who the players are in this fandom (and in any other situation), I’m game to play along. Plus, his pet names tend to add a little comedy relief to whatever is being discussed, especially when it is not an outwardly funny subject.

In Lukola-Land, Luke is “Thang” (it’s actually “Thing” – as in the hand from The Addams Family – but my dad’s accent muddles the pronunciation into “Thang”); Nicola is “Ireland,” for obvious reasons; Antonia is “Misty,” for, umm, the Clint Eastwood movie, “Play Misty for Me;” and Jake is – well, Jake is actually just “Jake” because my father finds the USS Jakola offensive. In fact, when I was discussing the recent fandom events with him on Friday evening, my dad was genuinely shocked to learn the Jakolas still existed. His pet name for the Jakolas is “Fucking Stupid,” by the way.

Moving on to the matter at hand –

There’s been so much “noise” over the past few weeks that, when taken collectively, it is rather eye-opening. We’ve got Luke’s mother posting on Facebook about “Luke’s girlfriend…from Cyprus.” The leaked funeral video and photos (by allegedly Luke’s family). The Best in Show pap pictures of Nicola and Jake. The “just friends” interview. The disappearance of Jake (because he’s rehearsing for a play) and the sudden reemergence of Antonia.

If you’ve noticed from my recent entries on this blog, I have obviously found most of what has happened of late to be comical and not worth putting into written word. Instead, my thoughts have been dumped into GIF stories. To be honest, I was rather disappointed I couldn’t put this last part – Antonia emerging from the misty edges of the forest – entirely into a GIF story. Her reappearance was like a certain Bond villain coming back to life for the seventh time. In other words, it was total cringe. But it also altered an otherwise slow burning campfire into a motherfucking forest fire.

Me: Thoughts?

Dad: I need some time to think about this one – and a cigarette. Or two. Call me back in 15 minutes.

“Psychotic Fan Rescue Center, at your service.”

Me: You’re a dumbass.

Dad: <laughing> Well, this is insane. It makes no sense and it’s a convoluted mess. Why bring Misty back? She was killed off two seasons ago.

Me: No shit, Sherlock.

Dad: Hell, maybe this has all been a nest of vipers.

A nest of vipers? Ah, yes, the idea that we have a group of venomous snakes thrown into the same close-quartered trench – in an every-man-for-himself type situation – each taking strikes at the others whenever their backs are turned.

In Entries 1, 13, and 15 – with an emphasis on “Entry 13: The One Where the Ashes Blew Towards Us with the Salt Wind from the Sea” – I wrote about what the Lutonia narrative could look like, if real. I will not rehash in detail those entries here, but I will link them at the end of this entry if you want to read, or reread, them.

Now, the General Audience almost certainly didn’t pay a lick of attention to Antonia when she appeared alongside Luke at the Boss event held January 30 (she’s always just been a Face in the Crowd). But the sudden reappearance of Antonia stopped the Lukolas dead in their tracks because – like my dad said – she was seemingly killed off two seasons ago.

The Lukolas have suddenly found themselves at an intersection of confusion and, likely, a bit of distress. The long and winding road we’ve been traveling along has diverged into two paths – and, no, you cannot travel both.

The problem with the Lutonia narrative has always been that Luke has never formally acknowledged Antonia as his girlfriend. In fact, Luke had the perfect opportunity to do so when he posted about the Boss event on his Instagram grid – but he did not. I could rationalize the idea that Luke and Antonia wanted to keep their relationship private after the Papsmear misstep if it weren’t for the fact that Antonia has been historically loud in her social media posts. We spent the summer and fall with insinuation post after insinuation post from Antonia. Yes, all those posts that alluded to her being with Luke without any actual evidence that she was, in fact, with Luke. By the time Antonia got to “Pasta-gate” in mid-November, the Lukola fandom barely even blinked before dismissing her as, well, the antagonist from “Play Misty for Me.” And this leads to something even more problematic for the USS Lutonia – Luke has never rescued Antonia from being ridiculed and torn apart by the fandom. My dad would call – and has called – Luke a cad for this.

Jumping to the other side of this misshapen triangle, we have Nicola and her Assassin (my dad’s pet name for JVN). Assuming Lutonia is real, the only logical answer for Nicola’s behavior is that she has spent months trolling Luke, Antonia, and <gasp> the fandom. Nicola herself has admitted to being chronically online and, at a minimum, being aware of fan edits – so much so that during the London premiere she commented that she and Luke “can’t do anything” without the fandom reacting to it. Therefore, I will call “foul” on anyone who tries to persuade me that Nicola was unaware of, at a minimum, how the Lukola fandom had reacted to the Claddagh ring, Chaos Week, and the October airplane posts. JVN openly mocking Antonia on social media with, for example, their Slick Back Bun routine only added fuel to this fire.

For shits and giggles – and so I can get to the bend in this road – we will roll with my dad’s “Nest of Vipers” theory for a moment. We will concede that Lutonia is real, which, in my opinion, makes Luke the absolute worst boyfriend in London and Antonia a woman who doesn’t mind being treated like roadkill. It also, unfortunately, makes Nicola and Fan Favorite JVN come off like online bullies – with the only plausible reasoning for the bullying being that Luke and Nicola are at odds with each other. No, I take that back – they’re not at odds with each other – they’re seemingly at war with each other. I’ll even amp this up a bit and throw in the suggestion that, assuming Lutonia is real, Netflix & Co. is aware of the strife between its two Polin actors and are protecting their asset with blurred Polin-Lukola posts to pacify the fandom. Dun-Dun-DUNN! And yes! That was a sly nod to Jake.

Me: Thanks for that. You just made Luke into an absolute prick and gave Antonia’s starring role in “Play Misty for Me” to Nicola.

Dad: Hey, I’m not the one who dug up Misty! That was all Thang!

Me: Then why does everyone say Luke is the nicest person? Nicola, his co-stars –

Dad: All lies.

Me: Would you STOP?!

Dad: But I’m serious! Thang could be a complete pig behind closed doors and Ireland could be on the verge of a psychotic meltdown because, uhh, maybe she’s obsessed with Thang and pissed he chose Misty.

The unfortunate thing about this Nest of Vipers theory is that I could almost certainly make a convincing argument that it was legit. I’ve always joked with my Inner Circle of Lukolas that no one wants to see me go rogue, especially not – I’ll bite my tongue on that one. But I will emphasize the importance of keeping an open mind when you’re reviewing information. Always consider both sides of the coin. That said, it’s hard to ignore the evidence that was presented to us through the World Tour interviews and behind-the-scenes footage; therefore –

Me: I’m having a hard time believing Luke is someone who wouldn’t protect his girlfriend. He seems to support Nicola online quite a bit. Why wouldn’t he do the same for Antonia?

Dad: <laughing> Fine. Antonia isn’t his girlfriend. Maybe it’s all just a bunch of fuckery like I’ve always said.

“Fuckery” is my dad’s pet name for PR bullshit. If you didn’t pick up on it in previous entries, I am not fond of PR theories. But I also cannot ignore that PR relationships do exist and have for decades (hell, we could go back centuries and find examples of PR relationships across multiple noble and royal families – think about that, naysayers). It was my dad who first sold me on the possibility of Antonia being PR. So, I will consider this road to PR-ville in the same manner as I did the Nest of Vipers theory – with this PR theory having perhaps the better claim.

I mentioned earlier that the General Audience almost certainly paid little attention to Antonia’s existence at the Boss event. Although some people may find what I’m about to say a bit unkind, it doesn’t make it any less valid (and I’m not saying it to be cruel): Antonia, in the overall scheme of things, is of very little importance to the General Audience. She has less than 15 thousand followers on Instagram, even after being connected to a man who has almost three million. However, oddly enough, that didn’t prevent the Daily Mail from dropping a story which predominantly focused on Antonia within the same timeframe that images from the Boss event were being dropped on the Internet. It also didn’t prevent video footage of Luke and Antonia at the Boss event from being leaked online almost immediately – even when there were undoubtedly more famous celebrities attending the event. I’ll be realistic with this next comment, too: Luke may be relevant to the Bridgerton fandom, but that does not mean he is significant to, say, People Magazine’s average reader. So, why the sudden burst of publicity at this event?

I waited to write this entry to see what Luke did with the exposure from the Boss event. Would he finally put Antonia on his Instagram grid? Would he put her in his Instagram stories? Would Antonia post pictures from the event on her Instagram grid or stories? Would Luke unambiguously acknowledge a relationship with Antonia?

Although Luke posted to his Instagram grid and stories about the event, he did not include Antonia – at least not directly. The closest he came to including Antonia was via an Instagram story – on which he did not tag her – of a black screen with a link to a Boss TikTok that included images of Luke and Antonia from the event. The TikTok did not tag Antonia either. Luke did not post Antonia’s image to his grid or his stories.

And Antonia didn’t post about the event at all.

I wasn’t sold on a PR narrative when I started writing this entry, but my eyebrows raised when I saw Luke’s “black screen” Instagram story. This was either Luke attempting to circumvent the Lutonia narrative while throwing Antonia a bone, or it was Luke being an absolute douche of a human being. And, if it’s the latter, Mr. Newton needs to check himself into Assholes Anonymous.

I will concede that a couple of mutuals put up a few stories about the event (which disappeared after 24 hours) and Boss included (and tagged) Luke and Antonia in an Instagram and TikTok reel – without formally identifying Antonia as Luke’s girlfriend. On a side note, Luke could have reposted either of these reels – which tagged Antonia – but he did not. Luke also did not like this Boss Instagram reel with Antonia in it (and he does not have a public TikTok account), but Luke did like a separate Boss post of him and David Beckham (without Antonia). The only news outlets that called Antonia Luke’s “girlfriend” were rag-mags like the Daily Mail and Hello, both of which put an emphasis on Antonia. Digital Spy noted that Luke and Antonia “have yet to officially confirm their relationship.” So outside of some tagged reels (that weren’t reposted or acknowledged by Luke) and rag-mag speculation, what did Antonia get from this?

Dad: Publicity.

A single word but one that resonates throughout an otherwise silent wood.

But to be honest, I’m not entirely convinced this was for publicity. I’m not saying I believe Antonia is Luke’s girlfriend either – that’s a whole cauldron of contradictions on its own. I’m simply intrigued that Antonia has her Instagram tags turned off and she has not yet allowed any Boss event tags to appear on her page. So, outside of some junky rag-mag callouts and a few TikToks, what benefit did Antonia receive? And, if Antonia didn’t truly benefit from this appearance (or, at least she doesn’t appear to be reaping the rewards from a girlfriend or PR standpoint), who did benefit?

I mentioned at the beginning of this post that a series of events had happened one after the other over a relatively short two-week period: (1) Luke’s mum mentioning “Luke’s girlfriend…from Cyprus” in a Facebook response; (2) leaked video and photos of Luke from a funeral; (3) those utterly ridiculous pap pictures of Nicola and Jake; (4) Nicola stating she and Luke were “just friends” in an interview; and (5) the sudden summoning of Antonia after exactly six months of being MIA.

As I sat here writing out the events of the past two weeks – and considering the reappearance of Antonia – I couldn’t help but speculate as to whether each of these events was meant to have a specific purpose that didn’t get its desired result.

The comment by Luke’s mother was so far out in left field, most Lukolas chucked it up to being suspicious and dismissed it as such. The funeral pictures and video released by one of Luke’s family members was quickly scrubbed from social media; therefore, just as quickly ignored. The pap pictures of Nicola and Jake were openly mocked across social media as being staged. The “just friends” comment – after almost a year of, particularly, Nicola dodging that phrase – didn’t seem to send many Lukolas overboard. Is it possible that the fandom’s mild reaction to all these events wasn’t anticipated? Which leads me to wonder if Luke and Nicola wanted a reaction and realized the only way they were going to get it was to play the only card they had left – Antonia.

When you look at the above referenced events individually and collectively, they appear to indicate a push to shut down the Lukola narrative. Why?

They could have shut down the Lukolas before the World Tour even took off. They could have shut down the Lukolas during the World Tour. They could have shut down the Lukolas after Papsmear. Why wait almost a full year to draw the line in the sand? Especially after every devoted Lukola would argue that (mostly) Nicola has left a trail of Swiftie-like clues to insinuate Lukola is real, and that Luke has made a visible effort to remove Antonia from his narrative.

Whatever the reasoning may be, we must admit Antonia’s reappearance had a purpose – and one that we need to respect. I have a hard time believing Luke would voluntarily step in the same pile of dog shit he stepped in back in June without a valid and significant reason for doing so.

And this is where I will draw the line.

I will not speculate further about why Antonia suddenly rose from the ashes of Manderley – and I will not tell you which road to take from here. That’s something you need to do on your own but, be warned that regardless of which road you choose – the one where you conclude Luke and Antonia are a couple, or the one where you decide Antonia is playing the role of PR distraction – the Lukolas are currently fighting a losing battle.

The Lukolas have become collateral damage. They’ve either been caught in the crossfire of an online war between Luke and Nicola (and their respective sidekicks) over, presumably, Antonia; or they’re the unwitting victims of some messy PR bullshit that has resulted in Lukolas being bullied across every social media platform by rabid Jakolas and Anti-Lukes.

Amazingly, though, many Lukolas remain resilient.

When the going gets tough…

But sometimes the tough don’t get going.

Yesterday, someone wrote to me, “Why are we still here? Just when we think something good is finally going to happen we get pushed back down. I’m tired of the dumb games.”

I rarely answer “Asks,” but my response to this comment is:

“Two roads diverged in a wood…”

Two roads.

One road is quite disheartening and the other is shrouded in underbrush.

But what you've overlooked is that there is an alternate path – a third road – the one that brought you to this point.

Turn around.

That road takes you back home – and, if you’re ready to go home, go home. It’s okay. It takes an unbelievable amount of courage to admit you’ve had enough. Remember that saying – “A wise woman once said, ‘fuck this shit,’ and she lived happily ever after.”

Take your time and decide what makes the most sense to you.

Dad: What are you thinking?

Me: Of a poem.

Dad: Oh, which one today?

Me: “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by…”

Dad: Which road is that…?

P.S. Just for a bit of comic relief at the end of an otherwise somber post (not even Dad could make it lighthearted), I just wanted to say:

I love eating grapes.

IYKYK.

Those links I promised:

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #my thoughts #my opinion #speculation only #my humor #did you see what i did here?#grapes anonymous

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brawberryz · 1 day ago

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Goodbye World

BatFam Yan! × Neglected Magic Girl! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

Pt: 2

"(NAME), PLEASE DON'T GO!"

the girl screamed trying to stop her, this couldn't be happening, this shouldn't have happened, I was supposed to have more time but your transformation accelerated

"I'm sorry, ######, but there's no time left... sorry"

"Please (Name)!, don't go..."

The girl felt tears falling from her face, she was supposed to save you but she made the same mistake again...

"Goodbye"

You gave her one last smile before falling to the ground and your body began to deform

"(NAMEE)!"

The girl screamed for the last time before your vision went dark, there was no more pain or suffering, you felt like your body was deformed but you couldn't feel or do anything it was like you only had your conscience left

The original (name) had disappeared forever, and there was nothing else to do

Or well, maybe there was something they could do

Bruce was sitting in front of the batcomputer trying to find any trace of you, but there was nothing, not even a trace, it was like you had vanished in the wind

He felt too bad since your last interaction with you, if he had known what would happen he would never have let you go from that hug

But it's just "would have" it was too late to regret but he could still fix things, he would find you and take you home with everyone else and finally have the family you always dreamed of

"We found nothing, not a single clue"

Richard entered the batcave feeling defeated Again, he went out with the whole family to look for some clue but there was nothing, they even tried to see if some villain had you kidnapped but there was no one who knew about you

"This is shit"

Jason said angrily while leaning against a wall, as much as he didn't want to admit it in a way it was his fault he always treated you badly and insulted you

You had too many reasons to leave the mansion and hate all of them, but if he was honest he hated the feeling that you had left, you are supposed to be a family and you should stay together

Wherever you are they will find you and when they do they will never let you escape from their hands again

"And Tim?"

Bruce asked without taking his eyes off the Batcomputer, he hated feeling like he couldn't be in control, not having control over you, like he always had

"He decided to stay a little longer to patrol and see if he found something"

Jason said putting his hands in his jacket pockets, wherever you are he just hoped you were okay although knowing how Gotham is, it would be a miracle if you were okay without a single scratch

"I'm leaving here"

Damian spoke as he walked angrily out of the batcave, a part of him was angry with you and with himself, he was angry with you because you abandoned him without even saying goodbye or giving him reasons, you decided to hide and not tell anyone

He hated having things hidden from him, and at the same time he was angry with himself for how he treated you in the past, but he had changed he swears! When you get back to the mansion she'll be the best sister you've ever seen

"Damian, wait-"

Richard tries to stop him but Damian just pushes him out of his way before yelling at him

"SHUT UP, I don't plan on staying here even a minute longer.(Name) is lost somewhere in this stupid city and all we do is stay here like idiots"

Damian said angrily as he quickly left the batcave

Richard just sighed, when Damian had something in mind there was nothing that would stop him from reaching it, not even his own family

Damian walked angrily down the hallway of the mansion cursing under his breath

He continued walking until a door caught his attention, it was half open and he could barely see the small light coming out

Curious, he decided to open it, he was surprised when he realized it was your room...

It was small but still well decorated, it bothered him a little that your room was so far away from the others

He didn't want to invade your privacy (if he wanted to) but the curiosity about your things was too great, he began looking in your drawers but only found unfinished crafts or clothes

It seemed strange to him that all your clothes were still in their place, if the theory that you ran away was true you should have brought some clothes, but everything was completely in order

As he continued looking he found a photo album, it seemed old since it had some dust

He removed the dust that it had and decided to open it, there was almost nothing interesting just photos of you, some from when you were little and others from your birthdays

But there was one that caught his attention, you were in a park with a girl, it seemed to him It was strange that you had left since you never left the mansion

He was also very bothered by the approach that girl had with (name), who did she think she was to touch her sister like that?

But if he was honest, in that photo you really looked happy...

You didn't have that forced happiness like in all the photos, in this one it was seen that you really felt happy with that strange girl

He put aside the album and went back to searching through your things to see if he could find something else

Some of your drawers were full of board games full of dust, he remembered that once you asked him to play one with you but he simply ignored you and said that you had time for children's games

A soft voice took him out of his thoughts

"What are you doing in (name)'s room?"

Cassadran asked, looking at Damian with doubt. She thought it was strange that he was in your room since she thought she was the only one besides Alfred who knew your room.

"Something that doesn't matter to you."

Damian answered abruptly as he continued searching through your drawers.

"You seem too worried about her to be going through her things without permission."

Cassadran spoke again. She thought it was strange that none of the family members were around the house, but she didn't pay much attention and decided to go to your room to greet you. But she was surprised when she found Damian searching through your things.

"So what? It doesn't matter now that (name) is missing. I don't think it will bother her. Besides, it's for research purposes."

Damian was getting tired of Cass's insistence, because out of nowhere he is so worried about his privacy. Were you two close?

"Missing?"

Cassadran repeated in surprise, that answer hit Cass hard, she never imagined it would really happen, were you able to leave the mansion? Although if she was honest you had reasons to leave this fucking place

"Yes, my sister is missing and apparently I'm the only one who cares about her and tries to find some clue, so go away you're just bothering me"

Damian let out a snort of annoyance before resuming his search through your things

"She's your sister now?"

That answer took Damian by surprise, what the hell was she referring to

"What..."

"She's your sister now?" Cass repeated again before speaking again "you always left her aside, well, everyone left them aside and I include myself but it seems hypocritical to me that you want to blame others when you are also guilty, you always look to blame others for your problems because you are an egocentric and selfish person who only thinks about himself, you don't care about her you just want to have a reason not to feel bad about yourself"

Those words left Damian speechless, he hated to admit it but she was right although he would never admit it out loud

He simply looked away and focused on continuing to search pretending as if Cassandra's words hadn't mattered to him

Cass turned around and left the room before giving Damian one last look

Deep down she hoped you were okay wherever you were, but if you were truly lost she was going to do whatever it took to find you, she wasn't going to allow herself to lose another important thing for her, not anymore

Tim was jumping from building to building trying to find some clue about you, but there was nothing. He had been investigating criminals, villains or gangs all night but no one knew anything about you.

At this point the guilt was drowning him, he felt like the worst brother in the world. How could he forget someone so important?

Most likely you are now in some dangerous place, alone and scared thinking that no one will go looking for you because you are not important enough for them.

But he will do everything possible to find you, I promise.

He decided to stop at the top of a tall building so he could rest. He felt the worst. He had been patrolling all over Gotham for more than 4 hours but had found nothing. At this point he felt like he would never find you. No...no, if he found you he should not lose hope. You were somewhere in this place...he just had to find out where.

He felt something fast approaching him. Before he could react correctly and dodge it, a supernatural force ended up throwing him against the fire escape of another building.

Shit... that hurt, he was sure he broke his back or some rib, that thing that pushed him had too much force, it was clear that it was not a criminal or villain, they were too fast and strong to be one

But before he could get up he saw how a black mass with a strange figure approached quickly

It was easily the size of a damn bus or bigger, whatever it was was not human, that black mass reminded him too much of someone, he felt that he knew that figure from somewhere

But before he could think that large figure ended up hitting him again

It seemed as if that thing had something personal with him like some kind of hatred or resentment

Tim tried with all his strength to recover from that last blow, he had to warn the others about this thing and to come quickly before this strange creature taken from a horror story finished him off

With his last strength he grabbed the communicator and sent a signal for help before that thing hit him again now with more force causing his body to hit a wall

It seems you already have your first victim in your hands, you were going to finish off all those who made you feel miserable and you were going to make them feel the same pain that they made you feel

The original (name) had already died, the only thing left was this creature full of resentment and hatred

You were going to destroy every person who stood in your way and if that meant having to destroy the city or the world you were going to do it

"MADOKA PLEASE DON'T GO" aahhh reference 😭🙏💀

Sorry if it's too short or something, I hope you enjoy this shitty chapter

You can leave me questions or anything about this AU, I'll be happy to answer them🙏

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confused-squishy · 2 days ago

Text

You guys know what time it is

DPxDC Time

Okay, so de-aged Danny is captured by GIW when he meets the Batfamily. I'm talking, Oracle comes across the guys in white and informs the Batfam who uncover EVERYTHING.

I know what you're all thinking. Danny is perfect bat adoption bait. But it's not Batman that catches de-aged Danny's attention. It's the big bad wolf, Jason "Red Hood" Todd. Danny sees Jason through the test tub or cage he's been trapped in and can almost feel the pain Jason has felt through his life.

So when Danny is released from his "prison" he doesn't want Batman to hold him. He doesn't want Nightwing to hold him. He definitely doesn't want to be held by the Robin's who are staring at him like he's something to be stabbed or examined. No. He wants the one who looks sympathetic and looks like he knows how Danny is feeling at that moment.

Danny ignore everyone and holds his short arms out towards Jason. Silencing everyone as they stare. Danny didn't look away from those pain filled eyes. Danny knows his eyes must reflect the same way from how quickly Jason scoops him up. Once he's in Jason's arms it's like the Dam gate had broken completely.

Danny cried. He let the tears go. The tears for his parents who even if they didn't like ghosts still love him dearly. The tears for his sister Jazz who not only raised and protected him, but gave her everything to help him when he needed it. He cried for Sam and Tucker. His best friends who like his family, died trying to save him. Died protecting him from the GIW who didn't care for innocent lives.

Jason held the glowing child protectively in his arms. He could see how much pain was trapped behind those gates. He knew whatever this kid had been through was worse then any of the bat family had been in combined. He didn't move from his spot.

Jason barely acknowledged when Dick had tapped his shoulder to show him the tag from where the child had been imprisoned. It read "Phantom-001". But Jason knew that wasn't the child's name. It was like something inside him had clicked when he saw those glowing green eyes.

Something inside him warmed as he gently calmed the crying child. No this was his child now. He was going to protect him and keep him happy. Happy and safe from everything this world will try to put on his son's shoulders.

Jason slightly tightened his hold as he felt the steady breathing against his chest. He moved slowly as to not interrupt the much needed sleep. Leaving the room for his family to search and ultimately destroy. He knew if he stayed in that room he'd blow it up.

Seeing those machines and jars filled with that familiar green terrified him. Not from his past. But from the scars on his new son. He wasn't a fool. He could put the pictures together and he really didn't like what the picture was coming out to look like. Jason carefully made his way outside and stared at the sky making a silent promise that he will never break.

"I'll destroy those who did this to you. I'll make them regret everything and more."

#dp x dc #dcxdp #dc x dp #halfa jason todd #jason todd #jason todd adopts danny fenten #danny fenton #danny phantom x dc batman #danny phantom x batfamily #danny phantom x dc #danny phantom #batman #red hood

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captain-bubble-wrap · 23 hours ago

Note

I'm having a bit of a downtime. I feel so conscious about my appearance. May I have Quinn reassuring me that I look good?

My love, I'm sure you're absolutely stunning. Chin up, buttercup! 🩷

Quinn hadn't participated in practice today. While he caught up on some rest, you had decided to go into the city for a little retail therapy of your own. Only it hadn't quite gone the way you had hoped. Everywhere you looked, there was a girl you felt was prettier than you, looking at something you had been interested in for yourself. It was easy to look at her, then at yourself, and convince yourself that you couldn't wear it near as good as she could. Self-sabotage and insecurity were bullying you into a early shopping trip.

It didn't matter what you did, they were all beautiful while you felt like trash. What did Quinn see in you, you wondered on the drive back to his apartment. He could have his pick of any Instagram model he wanted, so why had he chosen you? You would beat yourself up the entire time, resigning to tears after parking his car.

You had returned empty-handed.

"What are you doing back so early?" Quinn asked, seeing you walk through the door unexpectedly. He had been in the kitchen making himself some lunch, and had he known you were headed back, would have made you something as well.

"I wasn't feeling it." Your eyes were still red as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror by the door. Quinn was bound to notice soon enough. "I think I've got a migraine starting."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, babe. Do you have anything you can take?"

"Yeah."

He was genuinely being helpful, but you had blown him off and shuffled past the kitchen towards the bedroom. As he watched you go, your eyes down to avoid making eye contact, he knew there was more to it than the headache excuse. He'd let you go for now, not wanting to push you too much that you just shut down completely.

In the bedroom, you had gotten under the covers, hugging Quinn's pillow like you did when he was away on the road. You didn't want to cry anymore, but you had hurt your feelings so badly that there were no good thoughts left to give you even a drop of confidence in anything.

"Sweetheart?" Quinn asked, darkening the doorway some time later. You had almost drifted off to a nap when he called out to you, and could have faked being asleep, but you weren't trying to be mean to him.

"Yeah?" You mumbled into the pillow.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure."

You could hear him sigh from across the room and soon the feeling of him climbing in to bed with you would finally make you give him your full attention. He had laid his head against the pillow of his you were clutching. His pretty eyes waiting to catch sight of yours desperately.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked softly, his hand getting lost amongst your hair.

"Bad day."

"You seemed happy when you left." His brows pulled in slightly, trying to guess what had triggered the bad mood. "Did something happen while you were out?"

You bit your lip, pulling your eyes from his face. Why did he have to be so good at figuring out what was bothering you. "Just..."

Patiently, Quinn looked at you, his fingers giving you the gentlest scalp massage while he kept his hand buried deep in your hair.

"I just didn't feel like being shopping, that's all."

"Y|N, why don't you want to tell me?"

"Because it's a stupid reason," you choked out, eyes flicking back to Quinn's in haste.

His gaze softened, "Nothing is a stupid reason if it makes you feel like this, but I won't make you tell me. I just want to know you're alright."

"Why are you attracted to me?"

Quinn's expression twisted slightly. That was about the last question he would have dreamed you'd ask him. "What do you mean? In what way?"

"Why me over some model or something?"

He'd raise his head, propping himself up with his right arm. "I wasn't attracted to you because of your looks, sweetheart. That's just an added bonus. Do I come off that petty?"

"No, you don't. I just-- it's hard to not judge myself against all the other girls that could have my spot. I told you it was a stupid reason."

There was deep concern in Quinn's expression. There were few things he hated more than when you got down on yourself.

"As cliche as it might sound, looks eventually fade and no longer matter. What makes you, you, is your personality, baby. It's what shines through any amount of makeup or outfit. You can't fake a personality, not a real one. You know, as good as I do, that there are plenty of girls faking all of that just to get with any of us. They can't keep up the charade, and away they go, and another takes their place. Do you know how refreshing it was to meet you? How you genuinely smiled? That little snort you let out when you laughed at yourself for being nervous asking for that autograph? Do you remember how bad I blushed? I could hardly sign that jersey. I thought I was going to have to replace it because my signature looked like a fake."

You laughed softly remembering that day. He had been a little bit of a bumbling mess but it was so cute.

"You kept popping up in my head the whole rest of the day. Your eyes, your smile, hell, even that perfume you had been wearing. Drove me crazy all day. I see beautiful women everyday, but not a one of them are waiting for me back home like you are. I don't picture any of them waiting for me, wearing one of my t-shirts like you do. Each time I hear your voice when I'm away, I melt, because I get to hear it every--single--day."

You had been chewing on your bottom lip to keep the tears at bay and Quinn had noticed. The hand that had been lost in your hair moved to hold your face, and his thumb would coax your lip from between your teeth.

"You're the only person I have eyes for -- the others are just people. You're my baby, and I love you. They don't mean anything to me. You have my heart."

"Quinny~" you whispered, knowing everything he said was his raw, unfiltered truths.

"I mean it, all of it. You might think the other girls are prettier than you, but I don't. Not for a second. You're the only one I want."

You didn't know what to say. His ability to melt away any bad mood you were dealing with, soothe any hurt feeling you had, and reassure you through it all had been a natural talent. It was times like these that you didn't feel like you deserved him, but you'd never tell him that. You knew already that he hated when you put yourself down and when you thought you should have less. Instead, you'd try to be thankful for him taking the time to explain his reasonings to you.

"I'll reassure you more, if you want me to. I just need to know. I'll do whatever I can to make you feel better, just to keep stuff like this from happening. I just don't want you to shut me out, okay?"

You'd give him a nod. "I'm sorry to be this way."

Quinn smiled, "It's alright. Do you think I don't wonder why you put up with me half the time?"

"But I love you!"

"Exactly! Because I know you love me -- that you truly love me for me and not the other stuff-- I don't have to worry about anything else; I don't let the other stuff rule me. Does that makes sense?"

"Mhm," you nodded.

"And before you say it, you don't need to be sorry. Things happen, and sometimes we just need a little more to see what we've been overlooking."

The air went out of you like a balloon. Quinn's ways with words left you speechless more times than you thought he realised.

"If it would make you feel better, I'll take you out sometime next week and let you know how beautiful I think you'd look in anything you try on. Anything you like, it's yours. No limit."

"Quinn~"

"I mean it. If it makes you smile, I want you to have it."

"You make me smile."

He laughed softly, "You have me already, silly."

You'd roll over on your back as he climbed on top of you, lips hovering just above each other's. "Unless you're wanting something more. Then I can give you that, too."

#💌maven's love notes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic

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mtcloudsworld · 2 days ago

Text

𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 | choso.k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, black!fem!reader, pierced!reader, curlyhair!reader, plus size!reader, enemies to lovers!choso, study season turned to a little bit more than just studying, excuse any errors I will eventually edit it later on, in the meantime, enjoy :)

"F-Fuck doll!"

It was supposed to be just an innocent little study session between you two.

"Oh, Cho~"

No messing around, shenanigans or throwing insults at one another.

"Mm, baby."

Just casually studying and sharing notes for the upcoming test.

"S-Shit, that feels good."

"Y-yeah?"

"Mmhm, yeah..." Moaning, you giggle a little at the sight of his blush, lip tucked between your teeth as you press him into you completely, legs spreading wider. Allowing his face to bury into the crock of your neck, getting comfortable in your embrace as you stroked through the dark strands of his long hair. "Mmph, right there, baby, please."

But it seems like the skin tight lavender tank and shorts fit didn't help his dirty mind as it revealed the most dangerous parts of your voluptuous body. Glorious chocolate skin, pierced nipples and ass cheeks peeking from underneath.

Your hair curly and frizzy. Fresh face, black rimmed glasses and glossy mocha lips. You looked so adorable without even trying. And while you read through your literature book, it was purposefully forgotten as he stared at the side of your face. Placed under a trance by the sound of your voice. It was silky and sweet. unintentionally low and smooth like honey. In his mind, you were this small firecracker.

Always has an attitude and minds her own business. A slick mouth, bit of a temper, a brat, stubbornly annoying and cute all in one breath. You irritated him. Everytime you guys see each other it's nothing but lips smacking fun eyes rolling, insults, name calling and whatever else you could think of. You both bullied each other because you simply hated the fact that feelings were getting involved.

Neither of you wanted to admit it, acknowledged it, act upon it─ until, tonight, when you felt the light brush of his fingertips along your jaw. Your attention brought to the lustful glare in his eyes. Your own were hooded. lashes brushing along your cheeks. You try to resist. You try to resist the scent of his heartaching cologne, the warmth of his palm around your neck, fingers brushing past the back of your hair, and his thumb caressing between your cheek and bottom lip.

The intimacy of your faces were inches apart. And you, being a horny bitch, felt your thighs begin to squeeze, your heart racing, cheeks heating and lips parting. You wanted to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Nothing that would make him think you didn't want this, because you did want this. You were just too hard headed, too stubborn to admit to him that he made you feel some type of way.

The many times he's tried to make advances to you, or would tease you to just get a reaction. He knew he had an effect on you, whether you liked to admit it or not. You both knew there was something there. You both knew the chemistry, the tension and connection was unmatched like no other. When he thought you wouldn't have given in, give him the slightest satisfaction, or an ounce of curiosity, you surprised him, yet again.

Those butterflies you once tried to avoid, swarmed in the moment your lips connected, colliding against one another deliberately slow, selfishly filled with greed and yearn. Neither of you dared detached from one another as he was mercifully willing to give it to you, no questions asked. Willing to make you understand how crazy you made him feel. How that slick mouth of yours always made him want to shut you up with a kiss on the lips. Willing to show you just how deep in the mud he was for you. He was willing to give you more if you'd just ask.

But... did you really need to say anything when everything was being pushed to the side just for him to be pulled on top of you, where your legs and arms wrapped around him and held him so close? Where his each of his hands were laid flat to the ground on either side of your head as you made out hungrily? Did you really need to say anything when your tongues were so far down his throat, moaning his name? Begging for him to touch your aching pussy? Nothing needed to be said right?

It was clear as day.

He wanted it just as badly as you did.

Somewhere in the deepest, darkest part of his mind he wanted to ravish you. Toxically possess every part of your beging, taint you, mark you, mold you in this whiny little sub of a brat just so he could tame you. So he could hear you become a whimpering moaning mess, whining for him to just ruin you till you crumbled to pieces, clenching your gummy, pink walls around his veiny dick while he fucked you into a oblivion, speaking of gibberish and other nonsense, until all you can feel is your legs shake like a leaf and body quiver in overwhelmed ecstacy, till you feel yourself near your climax, seeing nothing but stars, breathless and lightheaded, your ears deafening a little and your toes aching from the intense orgasm, until...all you both could hear was bated, heavy breathes and pants.

The sounds of skin slapping skin vanishes into slow gentle thrusts and his cock rutting into you until it slips from your leaking hole and dripping cum between your thighs and he's painting your folds.

Until he's knelt before you with a mischievous, maybe even a cocky smirk as he glares past your weak anatomy completely rendered at the mercy of him─ feeling nothing but lewd exhilaration.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

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five-rivers · 2 days ago

Text

nervous

This fic is for the @infiniterealms remix event! Please enjoy!

“Stop it,” whispered Star, putting her foot on top of Paulina’s. “If you were going to freak out this much, you should have stayed home. Or at least not come to breakfast.”

“I don’t miss school. Or breakfast.” It was too important. The time before class was when rumors and information about what happened outside of school came to light.

Today, knowing the rumors would be vital.

She picked at her nails. They were new, the acrylics freshly applied, but they weren’t quite as even as they usually were. Not up to her usual standards. But she had to do it, just like she had to come in today.

Star put her hands over Paulina’s. They were shaking, too. “It’s going to be fine,” she said. “You just have to be, like, zen about it.”

“He didn’t even have anything on him.”

“I know. But we’ll work something out. Just- Just stop talking about it.”

Paulina took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Star and Paulina watched Valerie stalk across the courtyard, head held high, lunch tray exactly parallel to the ground. Despite not being in any sports, she moved with a tight, athletic grace. She drew eyes.

“She’s been getting full of herself lately,” said Paulina. “Like, she thinks she’s better than us. We’ve got to do something.”

“Aw, Pauli,” said Star. “Do we have to?”

“Like, yeah? Unless we want to just, you know, give up.”

“Give up what?”

“Uh, being on top? Duh.”

“I don’t know.”

“Listen, Star,” said Paulina, turning to face her. “I know you used to like her, but you’ve got to get over it. She’s the one who ditched us. And no one ditches us.”

Star looked down at her lunch, then nodded.

“Anyway,” said Paulina, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’ve got an idea.”

Paulina’s eyes drifted to where Valerie sat eating breakfast. She was wearing long sleeves, pants, and a hoodie. She hadn’t worn skirts or short sleeves since…

It was whatever. It wasn’t like Paulina cared. She was only looking because sometimes Valerie talked to the loser trio.

“We can check his locker,” Star was saying. “We’ve got the key. We just have to wait for a good time. We can take one more day.”

Paulina nodded and smiled shallowly. “Maybe.” Her smile quickly fell away, but as more people entered the cafeteria she covered up her general… mood… by examining her nails and checking her reflection in her new makeup mirror.

“That was great,” said Paulina. “Did you see the look on her face?”

“Mhm,” said Star, smiling tightly.

“It’ll keep her from looking down her nose at us,” said Paulina. She flipped open her makeup mirror, to check and make sure her lipstick hadn’t smudged. But what she saw wasn’t her face. It was something terrible. Something rotting and skull-like.

She shrieked and dropped the mirror, breaking it.

Suddenly, the hallway was empty and cold.

“Bullieeeeees…” groaned a sepulchral voice. “Bullieeeeeeeeeeeeees… You will regreeeeeeet…”

Paulina shivered.

“You alright?” asked Kwan.

“Just a chill.” She shot a smile at him. “They’ve changed the air conditioner settings or something, it’s like it’s blowing on me.”

The others started joking about how underfunded and cheap the school was. This allowed Paulina to turn her attention to the doors just as Sam Manson came in.

Even under these circumstances, Paulina couldn’t help but curl her lip at Manson’s appearance. Everything she wore was just so– so ugly. Even the way she dyed her hair was crude. The color was totally fake and flat. Her skirt looked like someone had taken a pair of scissors and a spray can to it. The less said about her grungy, safety-pinned jacket the better.

But more than that, seeing Manson reminded Paulina of the last time she’d had the displeasure of speaking to her.

It had been two days since they’d pranked Valerie, and those two days were the worst. Everything that could go wrong, did. She always had a backup outfit at school - no one was perfect, but she could look that way - but her spare skirt caught on the door of her locker and tore. And then there were… things. Things lurking in mirrors, or out of the corner of her eye. The feeling of something just outside the door whenever she went to the school bathrooms…

And Star was having some kind of problem with missing textbooks or whatever. It wasn’t important.

But Paulina knew exactly how to deal with this. Or, rather, exactly who could deal with this. It was just a matter of getting in touch with her knight in shining armor.

She knew just how to do it, though. She’d done it before. For one reason or another, Phantom always showed up most often around the loser trio. Probably because they sucked so much that they just, like, attracted ghosts who wanted to kill them or something, and Phantom had to spend all his time protecting them instead of dating Paulina, like he deserved.

Whatever it was, it meant that she could get a message to Phantom through them.

She waited for the right time to approach them - not because she cared about them, but because she could practically feel her reputation taking a hit just from being around them - and then put on her best smile and dragged Star along behind her.

“What do you want?” snarled Manson.

“Rude,” she said.

Manson’s eyes narrowed. “Get on with it. We want to get to class.”

She tittered in a way that she knew irritated Manson. “So, you guys see Phantom all the time, right?”

“N-not really,” said Fenton, not looking at her.

“As much as anyone,” said Manson.

“Well, you see,” said Paulina, twirling a lock of hair around her fingers, “I was wondering if you could give him a message from me?”

“You want to invite him to your birthday party through us again?”

“No,” said Paulina, rolling her eyes. That hadn’t worked well enough for her to want Manson in her house ever again. “It’s just, I’ve been having a bit of a ghost problem.”

“Me, too,” said Star, quickly.

Fenton looked up, brows pinched together. “You have?”

“It’s Poindexter,” said Manson. “You remember. From what they did with Valerie.”

“Oh,” said Fenton, expression shuttering. “Tuck, are you sure you have the right combination?”

“Dude, just use your key. You have it, right?”

Fenton started to search his pockets and backpack.

“It isn’t just anything,” said Paulina, “it’s, like, a huge problem whenever I’m at school.”

“Then stay home,” said Manson. “Or be less of a b–”

Fenton opened his locker with a bang, shoved back in the gadgets that tried to spill out, and started exchanging books.

“Sorry,” said Manson, clearly feeling anything but. “We’ve got class.”

Paulina growled a little inside. If it hadn’t been for Manson, then it never would have gotten this far. Phantom would have fixed everything.

When Foley arrived, he looked… Normal. He clearly hadn’t heard anything. He wasn’t upset enough.

Either way, he sat down next to Manson and they started talking.

“Come on, Pauli, let’s go,” said Star, tugging Paulina’s arm.

“Uh, what?”

“You said you’d help me do my hair before class,” lied Star.

Paulina wasn’t the kind of person to give up, and she wasn’t going to let Manson get in the way of making this stupid ghost go away and bother someone who actually deserved it. Like Lester, maybe. He was so annoying, and he’d had the guts to ask her to the last dance. So gross.

So, she waited until Fenton was alone and cornered him.

“Phantom and I don’t talk to each other,” he said, not looking directly at her, which was so annoying. He was supposed to have a huge crush on her. This was supposed to work. “I can’t help you with that.”

“But he’s always around you. I just need you to pass on one message.”

“I can’t help you,” repeated Danny. “My parents are ghost hunters, Paulina, they chase after Phantom and shoot at him. He doesn’t want to talk to me. I’m pretty sure Phantom has some kind of truce with Sidney, anyway.”

“Who?”

“You know, the ghost that’s haunting you? Sidney Poindexter? You’ll be fine, you just have–”

“That gross nerd?” Paulina needed to get rid of this ghost even more! She shuddered.

“Okay, fine,” said Star, who Paulina had almost forgotten was there, “so he doesn’t talk to you - like, who would–”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But you’ve got, like, stuff from your parents, right? Ghost hunting stuff. You could give that to us for, like, protection.”

Fenton backed away. “I really can’t.”

“Sorry,” said Star as they left the cafeteria. “But this’ll probably be the best time, before classes start and while those two are still in the cafeteria. You still have the keys?”

“Yeah,” said Paulina, touching her purse. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I do. I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were,” said Star. She sped up, lengthening her stride. “God, this would have been so much easier if he’d just been, like, a halfway decent person and helped us.”

One of the classroom doors next to them opened and Mr. Falluca walked out. Paulina froze for a second, but Mr. Falluca wasn’t even looking at them, instead focused on the stack of papers in his hands.

“Don’t just stand there looking guilty,” hissed Star. “Come on, Pauli. We have to keep going.”

Paulina swallowed and nodded.

“Come on Fenton.” This time, she’d caught him before school, when no one would see. “How often do your parents check your stuff? We won’t need it for long, you know? If they notice, can’t you just say a ghost stole it?”

“Okay, how about this? I don’t want to give you anything.”

“What?” demanded Paulina. “Why not?”

“You know that I dated Valerie, right?”

“And then she dropped you like a bag of moldy potatoes,” said Paulina. “Your point?”

“My point is that I still like her. And what you did to her…. Look. Just apologize to her. Really apologize, like, make amends and stuff, and you’ll be fine, okay?”

The hallway Fenton’s locker was in was empty, although there were sounds coming from a few of the classrooms.

“Okay,” said Star. “Keys.”

Paulina nodded, then dug them out of her purse to hand to her.

“Keep an eye out.” Star turned towards Fenton’s padlock. It was one of those weird ones that had both a combination lock and a backup keyhole. “God, why does he have so many keys?”

“I don’t know, just hurry, okay?”

“Yeah,” muttered Star. “Don’t worry, everything will be over soon.”

“Hey!” shouted Star. “Fenton!”

He stopped, looking back over his shoulder warily.

“If you don’t help us,” said Star, out of breath, “then–”

“Then we’ll tell everyone about your ghost detector,” finished Paulina. They’d scraped together every rumor about Fenton they could to come up with this.

“My… what?” said Fenton, blankly.

Paulina had to give him credit, he was a good liar. “You don’t expect people to believe you go to the bathroom that much, do you? And always right before a ghost attack? We know your parents gave you something. Help us, or we’ll tell everyone about it, and about how you’ve been keeping it to yourself so you can hide like a coward.”

“I– What? I don’t– I don’t have anything like that!”

She took back what she said about him being good at lying.

“If I can notice it,” said Paulina, “other people will believe it. You think you’re at the bottom of the social ladder now…” she trailed off, threateningly. Maybe if she hadn’t been so stressed, she would have tried a bit more honey, but sometimes vinegar was all you had.

A number of complex expressions chased across Fenton’s face, but they ended with something hard.

“No,” he said, and then he turned away and left.

“Ha! Got it.” Star dropped the lock in her pocket before pulling open the locker.

“What does he have?” asked Paulina, looking over her shoulder. “He has to have some kind of, like, shield or something.”

“I don’t know,” said Star, pushing textbooks to the side. “You’re seeing what I’m seeing. Here.” She pulled a backpack - not Fenton’s normal one - off the hook. “See what you can find in here.”

She pulled open the zipper, and inside was… money? A cheap flip phone? Lipstick? Two changes of clothes, one for a girl?

Paulina wondered what Fenton was into, but it didn’t matter now. She unzipped the smaller pockets and started rifling through those.

“What now?” asked Star.

It had been a few days since they’d last talked to Fenton, and, therefore, a few days since they’d spread around the rumor, but Fenton had been… unmoved.

Which meant that Sidney Poindexter was still a problem.

With an act of will, Paulina smoothed out her expression. “If we can’t get what we want by asking nicely, we’ll just take it.”

“But, like, how? He’s not coming to us.”

“Not yet,” she said. She thought about it. “Mama always said, if a man’s hiding one thing, he’s hiding a bunch else, too. We’ll slip him a note saying, like, if he doesn’t want his real secret to be spread around, he’ll show up.”

“And give us what we want?”

“No,” said Paulina. “I don’t think that he’ll give once he’s seen us. He’s got to carry his stuff on him, right? So we’ll just take it then.”

“Beat up Fenton by ourselves?” asked Star, dubiously.

“Or threaten him,” said Paulina. “We both bring something to threaten him with, okay?” Her Papa had a stun gun, and she was sure Star could scrounge up a baseball bat or something.

And, besides, she wanted to get Fenton back.

“There’s nothing in here!” hissed Star, frustrated. She slammed the locker closed, making Paulina jump. “What the hell.”

Paulina grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the nearest bathroom. “Can you not?”

“Can you not? It’s your fault we’re even in this situation!”

“My fault? What about what you did?”

Fenton was already there, leaning against the guardrail, when they reached the bridge in the park. During daylight, it was a popular spot for couples, but it was creepy and abandoned at night

“Oh, no, not this again. Haven’t you had enough fun with your stupid ghost detector rumor?”

“It’s not about fun, Fenton,” said Paulina. “Now, give it over.”

“Or what?” He stood up and walked a few steps closer to them, a strange expression on his face. “I don’t think you actually know anything, or you would’ve used it already.”

“Or this,” said Paulina, pulling out the stun gun.

“What the– Is that a taser?” asked Fenton, raising his hands and stepping back. “Are– Are you robbing me?” He glanced sideways at Star, apparently only then noticing her bat.

“Consider a donation to a worthy cause,” said Paulina. “Hand over your ghost stuff.”

“I don’t have any,” said Fenton.

“When you’re out here in the middle of the night?” asked Paulina, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, you wouldn’t even be haunted if you–”

Paulina saw red and hit the trigger. The electrodes flew from the end of the stun gun, right on target. Fenton yelped and fell to the ground, seizing.

It was… satisfying, for lack of a better word. She’d just been so– So frustrated, lately. All of her normal ways of blowing off steam at school had been blocked by that horrible ghost.

She pulled the trigger again.

But, before she could, Fenton had swiped away the electrodes, and now he was pulling himself up with the railing, hand over his face. What Paulina could see of it though–

Star came in, swinging her bat. She cracked Fenton right across the jaw and he tumbled over the railing and off the bridge. There was a loud cracking sound. Fenton hitting the pavement of the walkway below.

There was no other sound.

Paulina breathed in, breathed out.

“What did you do that for?” she asked.

“You didn’t see his face,” wailed Star. “He looked like– like he was going to kill you. I didn’t hit him that hard!”

Paulina shook her head and went down under the bridge. Star followed close behind. Fenton was… lying there. Broken.

But still breathing.

“We’ve got to search him,” said Star.

“Hm?”

“For his stuff.”

“Oh, right.”

“And then we’ve got to…”

“I know,” said Paulina. Then, dreamlike, she asked, “Can I borrow your bat?”

“We both did things,” said Paulina, finally. “The important thing is that we’re in this together, right?” Her voice trembled. “Right?”

Star nodded. “Right. So– So, we can, like, we have his house keys, too.”

“Yeah,” said Paulina. The Fentons had to have something in their house, even if their kid was apparently a moron who went around with absolutely nothing.

“And no one’s even noticed he’s gone yet,” continued Star. “We’ve just…” She stopped as she put her hand in her pocket. “I’ve still got his stupid lock.”

“Who cares?”

“His friends will notice if it’s gone. And we’ve got to get to class, anyway.” Star seemed to be calming down again. Good. She was surprisingly useful in a… situation.

In Paulina’s trunk was a thick canvas tarp.

She didn’t know why, exactly. It had come with the car.

Star went over it, pulling off tags.

Paulina broke two nails getting it back to the trunk.

They drove to the river.

“They’ll assume it was a ghost,” said Star. “Especially if they don’t find him.”

Paulina had just nodded.

Paulina followed Star as they left the bathroom. It was fine. They were going to put the lock back on the locker and it would all be fine.

But someone was standing in front of Fenton’s locker.

They turned, slowly, as if they were a character in a lame horror movie. But Paulina couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

Fenton’s eyes met hers.

#danny phantom #infinite realms #infinite realms remix 2025 #infiniterealmsremix2025 #fic #my fic #phandom event

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goldfades · 14 hours ago

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past relationships, exes and flings | chapter two, DAYLIGHT

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.9k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | after running into your ex, you and kylie have some reflection time. joe realizes that his hook-ups aren't fulfilling, but ja'marr reminds him of who he really is underneath all the hurt.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | kinda angsty, mentions of past relationships, tay/reader bonding!! again, this is such a sloooow burn series so be ready

You weren’t sure who the Chiefs were playing.

Not that you hadn’t been trying to pay attention—you had, really—but somewhere between the first and second quarter, you realized you had absolutely no idea which team was on the other side of the field. It didn’t help that Taylor was curled into your side, an arm draped around your shoulders, squeezing you gently every time Travis did something remotely worth cheering for.

"You having fun?" she asked, her voice just loud enough to cut through the roar of the stadium.

You nodded, because it was easier than explaining that football games had never really been fun for you. They were just… familiar. A backdrop to your childhood, a constant in your life. You had been sitting in the stands for as long as you could remember, watching your brothers carve their way through the sport, watching them win, watching them lose. It wasn’t new. None of it was new.

But for Taylor, it was.

So you leaned into her warmth, let yourself cheer when she did, pretended like the weight in your chest wasn’t getting heavier and heavier with every passing minute.

It was easier that way.

After the game, you went out to eat.

Somewhere lowkey—well, as lowkey as you could get when you were with Taylor Swift—where the lights were dim and the noise was loud enough to drown out any lingering thoughts about the game.

You were finally starting to settle, finally letting yourself enjoy the post-game buzz, when you saw him.

Jayson.

The second you saw him, everything else in the restaurant faded.

The warm lighting, the distant clatter of plates, the low hum of conversation—it all became white noise, swallowed by the rush of blood in your ears. Jayson Tatum was here. Here. A few tables away, sitting with a group of people you didn’t recognize, laughing like he hadn’t once shattered you so thoroughly you weren’t sure you’d ever feel whole again.

Your stomach dropped, a sick twist knotting its way through your chest, because suddenly it was December again. Suddenly, you were back in the middle of that breakup, the most public, most humiliating moment of your life. You were reading the headlines, seeing your name next to his in bold, ugly letters, dissecting every photo, every quote, every little piece of your pain that had been turned into entertainment for the world to consume.

Travis stiffened beside you. He saw him too.

And if there was one thing about your big brother, it was that he had never been the type to think twice before throwing a punch when it came to protecting you.

“Let’s go,” he said, already pushing his chair back.

You barely had time to register his words before Taylor was tugging at your hand, her fingers warm and grounding against your wrist. “Come on, babe.”

You should’ve argued. Should’ve said something about how you weren’t going to let him ruin your night, that you didn’t care, that he didn’t affect you anymore. But you knew that would be a lie. You weren’t sure if you could even breathe properly right now, let alone sit here and pretend like seeing him didn’t send you spiraling back to the lowest point in your life.

So you left.

You weren’t even fully out the door before Travis was muttering, “Motherfucker. Just seeing his face makes me wanna—”

“Don’t,” you cut in, voice shakier than you wanted it to be. “Just—don’t, Trav.”

His jaw clenched, but he nodded, running a hand through his hair as he let out a sharp exhale. He was still wired, still pissed, but he wouldn’t push it. Not if you asked him not to.

Taylor, though, was quiet. Too quiet.

And when you turned to her, she was watching you with something so heavy in her eyes, something so full of understanding and sadness and anger that it nearly knocked the breath out of you.

She knew.

She’d known before—she knew the headlines, the surface-level details, the way the media had painted you in the aftermath—but now? Now, she really knew.

And suddenly, for the first time since it all happened, you wanted to talk about it.

The words came before you could stop them. “It wasn’t just the breakup.”

Travis and Taylor both looked at you, startled by the sudden admission.

You swallowed, throat tight. “It was—God, it was everything. He was in my life for so long, I—I thought it would always be that way. We had this stupid back-and-forth thing, and I let him—I let him treat me like I was disposable, like I was something he could just come back to whenever he wanted.” Your voice wavered, thick with something you didn’t want to name. “And then when it finally ended—really ended—it was so public. I couldn’t escape it. I’d open my phone and it was everywhere, people picking sides, making jokes, acting like—like it wasn’t my life that just fell apart.”

Taylor squeezed your hand, her grip firm. “I hate him.”

That pulled a watery laugh out of you, and you shook your head. “I think I do too.”

Travis was still tense, his hands flexing like he was trying to physically restrain himself from going back inside and doing something that would definitely end up all over the news. “I should’ve hit him when I had the chance.”

“I think you did have the chance,” you pointed out. “A couple times.”

“I should’ve hit him more.”

Taylor sighed, but there was amusement in it. “Okay, violence aside, let’s go home, yeah?”

You nodded.

And as the three of you walked toward the car, the weight on your chest didn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.

Kylie had a way of making things seem simpler. Not easy, but manageable. Like no matter how deep the hole you’d fallen into, she could always build you a ladder out of sheer willpower and stubbornness alone.

And right now, as you sat on the couch in her living room, surrounded by the chaos of her kids running in and out of the room, she was trying to do just that.

“I’m just saying,” she said, adjusting Bennett on her hip as she reached for her coffee, “heartbreak isn’t the end of the world. It feels like it is, trust me, I know. But it never actually is.”

You sighed, watching as Wyatt toddled over with a toy in hand, babbling about something you couldn’t quite decipher. Kylie reached down instinctively, ruffling her daughter’s hair before she turned back to you.

“I’ve been where you are,” she continued. “I mean, maybe not exactly where you are, because, you know—" she gestured vaguely, "—I wasn’t dealing with the entire world watching my love life implode. But still.”

You huffed out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Glad someone finds my misery entertaining.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She shot you a look before taking a sip of her coffee. “I’m saying I get it. I get how much it sucks. I get how it feels like you’re never going to be okay again, like no matter what you do, you’re always going to have this big, gaping hole where he used to be.”

You swallowed, glancing down at your hands. Because, yeah. That was exactly how it felt.

Kylie sighed, shifting Bennett in her arms before nudging your knee with her foot. “But you will be okay again. Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. Even if it takes a while. Because heartbreak sucks, but it doesn’t last forever.”

You let out a slow breath, looking up at her. “And what, exactly, is the secret to moving on?”

Kylie smirked. “Oh, there’s no secret. You just... do it. One day at a time. You wake up, you do your best, and then, one day, you realize it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

You stared at her. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” She shrugged. “And if it makes you feel better, you will find someone else.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Absolutely.” Kylie grinned, shifting so she could reach for her phone. “And when you do, I fully expect to help you stalk him on Instagram and determine whether or not he’s good enough for you.”

You groaned. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe.” She winked. “But I’m also right.”

You shook your head, but for the first time in a long time, the idea of moving on didn’t seem so impossible.

The locker room smelled like sweat, grass, and the faint, lingering staleness of protein powder. Preseason camp had been brutal—long days under the relentless August sun, drills that made even the veterans question why they ever picked up a football in the first place, and competition so fierce that the air always felt thick with something unspoken.

Joe sat at his locker, tape still wrapped around his knuckles from practice, shoulders tense as he stared down at his cleats like they held the answers to something he couldn’t quite put into words. He could feel the weight of his teammates around him—the easy banter, the occasional slap on the back, the sound of pads hitting the ground as guys peeled them off like second skin.

Ja’Marr plopped down beside him, kicking his own cleats off with a grunt. “You good, Joey B?”

Joe smirked slightly at the nickname but didn’t look up. “Yeah.”

“Uh-huh.” Ja’Marr leaned back, stretching his arms over the bench. “You’ve been acting weird, man.”

Joe exhaled through his nose, finally glancing over at his friend. “Weird how?”

“Weird like... I don’t know. You’re doing things, man.” Ja’Marr waved a hand. “Going out more. Talking to random girls. You—” He pointed at Joe. “—are acting like me.”

That made Joe huff out a quiet laugh. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s a weird thing.” Ja’Marr eyed him. “That’s not you. You’re not a casual guy.”

Joe didn’t say anything.

Because Ja’Marr wasn’t wrong.

Joe had never been the type to chase after girls just for the hell of it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like women—he did. But he’d always been a relationship guy. A stability guy. The kind of guy who found one person and built something solid. That was just how he worked. It was how he thrived.

But now?

Now he didn’t have that.

And maybe that was why he’d been filling his time with meaningless interactions, fleeting distractions that never really amounted to anything. Because at least if he was doing something, he didn’t have to sit in the quiet and think about what was missing.

Ja’Marr sighed, shaking his head like he already knew what was running through Joe’s mind. “Look, man, I get it. Breakups suck. But this whole... whatever this is? Not you.”

Joe clenched his jaw, flexing his fingers against his knee. “Yeah, well. Maybe I need to figure out who I am without her.”

Ja’Marr studied him for a second before nodding slowly. “Fair enough.”

Joe appreciated that about him—Ja’Marr never pushed, never tried to psychoanalyze him the way some people did. He just... got it.

“But for real,” Ja’Marr added after a beat, standing up and stretching, “if you ever wanna talk, you know where to find me.”

Joe smirked. “Yeah. At the club.”

Ja’Marr grinned, tossing a towel at his face. “Damn right.”

Joe shook his head, watching as Ja’Marr walked off, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again.

And that was the thing.

No matter how many people surrounded him, no matter how much he tried to distract himself—at the end of the day, he still felt alone.

#joe burrow #joe burrow bengals #joe shiesty #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x oc #bengals lb

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undercvrfan444 · 20 hours ago

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Shy!reader who wears a different uniform skirt in order to get Bully!Satoru’s attention and it works a little too well. He starts flipping up the back of her skirt when he walks past her to ruffle her feathers a bit. (he might have snuck a picture of two of what you looked like under that fabric.)

Bully!Satoru who continues to write you small notes and slip them in your bag but they’ve become nastier than before. Having things written on them like

“What a shame it would be for those pretty panties to be torn open with my cock stuffing your pussy to the brim.”

“Don’t you know prancing around in short skirts is just an invitation for me to do whatever I want to you?”

Bully!Satoru who continues tripping you when walking in the halls. This time though, it’s because he wants to press his hard erection into the plush feeling of your ass. He’ll lean down innocently so people don’t suspect him, “been thinkin’ of that gooey cunt all day bunny.”

Bully!Satoru who comes over occasionally to “help with homework” and always starts the session off with bruising the back of your throat so you can barely speak the next day.

This way he can purr nasty nothings into your ear and all you’re able to do is listen and take it.

Bully!Satoru who steals your lunch forcing you to come crying to him. “Beg me real nicely bunny, and i’ll give your lunch back.” But when you embarrass yourself by begging him kindly he gives you the box back to find it’s been eaten leaving you hungry and disappointed.

Bully!Satoru who is called out all the time for somehow finding a way to talk about you to his friends. Suguru teases you about it too when he can!

“So you’re the pretty little thing Satoru is hung up on?”

Two dark eyes rake over the little uniform that adorned your body. “He wasn’t lying about you.” And with that Suguru walked off, simply leaving you with a dumbfounded look.

Shy!Reader who stops Satoru in the hallway the next time you see him with an aggravated expression on your face. Your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you pushed a hard finger into the man’s chest. “What did you say about me to Suguru?”

Satoru’s shocked face pulls into a coy smile, eyes narrowing so he can lean into your space. “Why? I didn’t tell him anything that wasn’t true.”

“What did you say Satoru!”

Hearing his name on your lips sends shivers down his spine, loving how upset you were. His voice dropped lower, seeing how many people were turning heads to see where the commotion sourced from.

His lips graze the thin skin of your ear. “I told him how good your pussy feels around my dick. Told him about the way your face would scrunch up when you were about to c-“

A sharp *Slap!* echoed between you. Tears pour from your eyes at the embarrassment, angry at the misogynistic things Satoru said about you. It was hard to think of all the things you’ve done with Satoru knowing he must’ve told Suguru at some point. It felt invasive.

Bully!Satoru who felt like shit after you left. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from your back as you hurried out of school, away from the staring eyes. He knew he fucked up bad when you refused to answer his texts over the next few days, leaving him either on read or delivered.

He couldn’t stand the distance any longer. Saturday finally rolled around after you missed two days of school. The two days that you were gone felt like hell to him, whispers about what might’ve happened to make you slap him caused a certain edge to stick around. Satoru made his way to your house, knocking softly on the front door hoping you would listen to what he had to say. He could hear your feet pad up to the door watching the knob turn softly.

“Satoru?”

“Hi bunny,” his words are sugary sweet. You’ve never seen such an apologetic expression on Satoru’s face and honestly it was shocking to see him so flustered.

Shy!Reader who lets the Satoru into your house, reluctant yet willing to hear what he has to say. Truthfully you miss the handsome boy more than you’d like to admit despite him embarrassing you.

Bully!Satoru who follows you up to your room, pulling you against his chest with an “ompf!” the second he heard your door close. He’d never tell anyone this, but seeing you so angry with him ate him alive. At first he thought it was cute! The little attitude you wore was adorable until it morphed into stomach-churning disappointment aimed towards Satoru.

“I’m so sorry bunny, I had no idea it would bother you so much that I said those things to Suguru about us. The last thing I want is for you to think all I want you for is some stupid shit, let me make it up to you.” Softly his fingers curl into the smooth fabric of your shirt attempting to squish you further into him.

Silence fills the room like a thick blanket. Your heart beat rapidly against Satoru’s own; thoughts running wild while his expensive cologne wafted in your senses.

“It’s okay ‘toru.” slivers off of your lips before you can think.

Bully!Satoru who spends the rest of his day with you. First going to watch whatever movie you want to, buying every snack he could possibly think of even if you didn’t eat it just because he can.

You wanted to walk in the park? done.

Go browse a book store? he bought everything you touched.

Tired of being social? Satoru walked you home as he listened to you talk passionately about the description of your new books.

Bully!Satoru who begs for forgiveness through pulling your panties to the side and pressing sloppy kisses to your pretty cunt. Respectful pecks turn into haughty thrusts of his tongue, pushing your sticky walls apart. His moans tickle your thighs fervently while you squeeze his shoulders attempting to ease the building pressure in your lower belly. Satoru was a man after all, and he knew the cherry on top to his apology would be eating your pussy until slick dripped down his face.

Shy!Reader whose head was so fuzzy from the multiple orgasms, you let Satoru guide you into bed as the sun set. Once he’d finally cleaned up there was no stopping the rain of smooth kisses on your face. “I love you, bunny.”

“I love you to ‘toru.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo fluff #school boy gojo #bully gojo #bully gojo satoru

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daydreamteardrop · 1 day ago

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Girlhood - Sylus x Reader Drabble

Note: Hello! This is a drabble Ive started, maybe I'll continue it. I thought about how Sylus would be so up for helping MC be more confident in a girly style, because her whole life she wasnt allowed to present girly for her safety. (im massively projecting). Grandma Josephine is carrying the brunt of that LMAOOO, idk, is not being a Josephine fan controversial?

Not beta read, we explode like Josephine.

Spoilers for Sylus' Story!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• °.•

Girlhood wasn't really something you got to grow into.

Middle school introduced the full throttle of make-up, accessories and hairstyles onto the girls your age. And you found it fun, in fact, you always wanted to join the bandwagon.

But your dear gran was just so worried. She'd hold your hands tight and tell you that presenting so feminine can be dangerous. You will be stared at, perhaps even talked to by strangers, god - it would hurt your dear Grandma's heart should you walk outside while presenting in a girlish way. She'd be worried sick.

‘The boys would stare…’

‘Think about the way home, it gets dark so quickly during fall and winter.’

'It's unsightly.’

‘You are way too young.’

‘You’d get unwanted attention.’

And you didn't want to worry her.

So with a sad smile you were always the odd one out. You'd wear big T-shirts and pants. The girls in your class looked at you with such a pitiful yet mocking expression. One time they even ‘accidentally’ cut your hair and when Caleb picked you up from school that day, your silent begging to just go home was the only thing that stopped him from acting against the bullies. Grandma saw it as an opportunity to keep your hair short. It stayed the same even in highschool, where you were mistaken as Caleb's little brother once.

In the Hunter Academy, you were able to loosen the insistence of your grandma and managed to grow your hair to just above your shoulder again.

When you first wore the official Hunter's uniform, you couldn't be happy. The only thought that crossed your mind was ‘Grandma would worry if she saw the bare stomach.’.

When Tara would try to convince you to do anything girlish, you'd decline with a sour smile. Too scared, too constricted.

Even when the explosion took her, you just couldn't free yourself of the shackles.

Now, the dress Sylus made you wear for the auction was…gorgeous. The black and velvet felt so nice on your skin, it was practical to move in. The accessories glittered and reflected the dim lighting of the hallway. You didn't dare touch your hair, not knowing how, so the matching black claw-clip was in your hand. You didn't have any make-up you could use. And so it felt sinful to walk along this disgustingly expensive carpet in heels you weren't used to.

He held his hand out for you to take and wore that smirk. Black gloves met his calloused hand and he observed you. Looked you up and down and there was no way to tell if his gaze was scrutinizing. Red eyes met your face and then your hair, then to the claw clip in your hand.

“...not to your taste?”

“That's not it…”

Fingers clenched around the material of the hair accessory. He raised an eyebrow, urging you to continue.

“...I don't know how to put it in. I mean, it's kinda obvious how to, but-”

Before you could bring a finished sentence into the room, he grabbed the clip from your hand and spoke “Turn around.”

“Huh?”

He sighed. “I'll help you.”

With a bit of hesitation you turned around. Something about turning your back to the Onychinus leader was unnerving, an inner part of your brain scratched that it was crazy, but the moment his hands pulled your hair to the back with an uncharacteristic gentleness, the scratch stopped. He left a bit of hair out on purpose, letting it frame your face, and clasped the rest in place neatly by the claw clip.

Your hand traced over it carefully and you turned around and met his eyes. He huffed, satisfied with himself and put his hands in his pant pockets.

You recall the sentence that left him earlier.

‘No one can stay wary, when there's a beauty walking around.’

You're not used to being described with that adjective.

After the auction, Sylus waved you off when you wanted to return the dress and its accessories to him.

‘It was tailored for you. It's yours now.’

His way of using his money was…questionable to you. The dress was miles outside of your budget range and you hung it straight and neatly, in order to not even get a hint of a wrinkle in the luxurious fabric.

Closet doors were open and you stared at it, like it was some sort of glorious painting in a museum.

‘Maybe I should frame it.’ you thought as you sighed dreamily. When the tips of your hair slide over the back of your neck, you shudder, because it reminds you of Sylus' fingertips in your hair when putting it up with the clip.

Your poor pillow is the target of your suppressed squeal. A dress was in your possession.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

DaydreamTeardrop2025

#daydreaming...posts #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads sylus #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #x reader #drabble #writing #i just know Sylus likes doing MCs hair

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hyunjuenthusiast · 2 days ago

Note

ITS ME AGAIN😎

need a jealous!hyun-ju x fem!reader who gets a bit too close with gi-hun, ANDD reader ends up getting edged and fingered roughly by jealous!hyun-ju as reader tried to quiet down in the bathroom??

TYSM I LVOE YOUR FICS🫶

HEYYYY👋🏻 Are you becoming a regular?!😂 Let me see what I can do!

BEAUTIFUL ENVY

Summary: During the games, you become close with Hyun-ju, not realizing the envy that builds inside of her when you start also getting close to Gi-Hun.

Pairing: Jealous!Hyun-ju x Femreader!

Warnings: SMUT and jealousy.

Not an adult? Don't read! 🔞

Hyun-ju grits her teeth as she hears you laugh along with Gi-Hun's group. Just because they decided to work together didn't mean that you could just leave her.

That thought made Hyun-ju tense. You weren't together. She had no right to be feeling this way. But the sight of you smiling at someone else after you had been so kind to her, made her want to strangle Gi-Hun.

Looking back over at you, her blood boils. Gi-Hun was offering you his gimbap. He'll no.

She was walking towards you before she could even think. You looked up at her as she stood in front of you and Gi-Hun, the rest of the group talking about random things, not really paying attention to Hyun-ju.

"Hyun-" You go to question, only to be silenced when she holds out her gimbap as well. The look she was giving Gi-Hun made you tense where you sat.

With both of them offering you their food, you didn't know what to do. "Um, thank you both, but I'm not that hungry!" You say, letting out a nervous chuckle that only Gi-Hun returns.

You give Hyun-ju a soft smile, trying to ease whatever tension this was. You can see her relax a little.

She sits on the other side of you. Young-il asked Gi-Hun about what he thought the next game would be, and you listened closely, leaning in closer.

You heard her scoff before you felt her hand on your forearm. She pulled you a bit closer to her, leaning down close to your ear. "He doesn't know anything about the next game. He was wrong about the second game. We shouldn't trust him." She whispers.

You frown. You did trust Gi-Hun. He helped everyone in red light, green light. He's voted to go home, which is more than Hyun-ju has done. She voted to stay once after all.

"He's not untrustworthy-" you try to say until you notice her soft glare, making you shrink a bit into yourself. "You can't be sure of someone's intentions, sweet girl, especially in here." She explains softly. You knew she was right. But that means you also couldn't trust her.

She seems to know what you were thinking, and you see her eyes soften. "You know I'd never betray you, don't you? Not after what happened to Young-Mi." She whispers, making you look down in guilt.

"I know." You whisper back softly, your breath hitching as she reaches to hold your hand. "I won't let anyone hurt you. Not any of the players, not any of the guards, not even yourself." She says. Your eyebrows furrow for a moment, not really knowing what she means by not letting you hurt yourself, but she doesn't clarify.

You made a mistake. That's all. You wouldn't leave her. Not for him. He's old enough to be your father. But the way you clung to him during lights out...

She clenches her fists. As soon as the guards shut it down and announced it was time for bed, she grabbed your wrist, making you get out of your bed. Not enough to hurt, but enough were you knew she was serious. You question her with your gaze, but she looks straight ahead, her pace much faster than yours.

She knocks on the door, and a triangle guard opens the little window to see what she wants. "She got her period. Would you please let us through so I can help her clean her pants?" She asks making your eyes widen. You weren't on your period.

When the window shuts, she quickly takes off her jacket, tying it around your waist. Knocking again, this time, the guard lets you through.

She was smart. The guard checked your backside when you walked past him.

As soon as the woman's restroom door shut, Hyun-ju rushed and pushed you against a wall, her touch firm, making you gasp.

"W-What are you doing?" You ask, the look in her eyes changing from firm...to hunger.

"You let him hold you." She whispers close to your ear. "W-what? Wh-" She inturupts, "Gi-Hun. Player 456. You let that asshole touch you." She sneers. You have to crane your neck to look up at her. "I-I don't underst-" you try to say.

"You will." Hyun-ju says, her eyes dark. One of her hands travels down your body, stopping just under the line of your bra. "What color is it, baby?" She asks in a whisper.

You give her a confused look. "What color is your bra?" She says, one of her fingers tracing where your nipple is.

Your eyes widen, but you feel the need to answer her. "P-Purple" you whisper, hearing her inhale sharply.

"Has he seen it? Gi-Hun?" She asks, starting to lift your shirt up gently. "N-No of course not, w-why would-" She shuts you up with a kiss. Her lips are softer than what you would have thought, and moist.

"I see the way he looks at you, baby." She says as she breaks the kiss. "And you give him those sweet puppy eyes, don't you?" She asks, lifting your shirt over your head, her eyes immediately taking in the sight of your breasts.

"I don't." You whisper. "You do, baby. Don't lie. But that's okay, I'll fix it." She says, leaning down and kissing the edge of your cleavage. "Mmm, so soft." She mumbles against the supple flesh of your right breast.

"What do you mean? Fix what?" You ask, a little breathless already. You can feel her smirk. "I'll make sure you only look at me." She says, keeping her eyes on yours as she rips your bra.

You gasp, making her chuckle darkly. She throws the now useless peice of cloth on the bathroom floor, returning her hands to your chest, squeezing.

Hyun-ju leans back down, waisting no time with taking your nipple into her mouth. The cold bathroom, in contrast to her hot mouth, makes you shiver.

You gasp as she switches to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. "H-Hyun-ju we can't" you whimper, making her chuckle. She's already kissing her way down your stomach, getting on her knees in front of you.

Faster than you can think, she has your pants pulled down, looking at your matching purple underwear. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby." She whispers, starting to kiss up your thigh.

She gently kisses your clit through your panties, making you gasp. "I can see how wet you are, Y/n. You've soaked your panties." She whispers, looking up at you hungrily. You don't protest as she slides them down next.

"Oh baby..." She coos, looking at your pussy. "Your little clit is swollen...do you want me to make it all better? Hmm?" She asks, making you whine.

You nod.

That clearly didn't satisfy her because the next second, you feel a small slap to your pussy. "Use your words like a good girl." She says firmly. Holy fuck.

"Y-Yes...please make it better!" You whimper. She gives you a smile before you feel her tongue on your clit.

She teases you just a little before reaching up and putting two of her fingers inside you. "Fuck baby, you're so tight. You can take another one, can't you?" She says, her tone mocking. When you whine, shaking your head, she adds another anyway, giving you a nice stretch.

Having both her fingers and her tongue feels like heaven. Pure heaven. But that thought quickly leaves your mind when you feel her change the pace.

You could hear the wet sound of your pussy as her fingers set an unforgivable pace. "H-Hyun-ju!" You squel. "T-To much p-please slow down!" You moan.

You look down, watching as she pulls away from your clit, smirking.

"To bad." She says, fingerings you a little harder. "Oh fuck!" You scream, the back of your head against the wall.

"Do you think Gi-Hun could make you feel this good? Hmm?" She asks, her eyes sharp. You quickly shake your head, which makes her stop.

"What did I say about using your words?" She sneers, taking her fingers away. "No no please don't stop!" You beg, your hips lifting trying to get her back.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" She asks, her lips kissing the skin just above your clit.

You go to nod, but remember her words. "Yes!" You say, making her tikt her head. "Tsk tsk tsk, say it properly, baby. Tell me you'll be a good girl for me." She commands.

"I'll be a good girl for you!" You say quickly, making her chuckle once more. "Only for me?" She asks, and you nod quickly. "Yes yes only for you Hyun-ju!"

She puts her fingers back inside you, setting another brutal pace. "Are you going to cum for me?" She asks.

"Yes yes! I'm so close!" You whimper. Not expecting her to pull away again, but she does.

"I don't think so. Not until I know you're sorry. You hurt my feelings with the way you looked at Gi-Hun. How do I know you won't let him touch you again? Hmm?" She says, licking her fingers clean of you.

You almost cry. "I am sorry, Hyun-ju. I'm so sorry, I only want you!"

She pretends to think, her thumb reaches up, keeping you on edge by rubbing tight circles on your already overstimulated clit.

"If I see you even look in his direction, I'll have you over my knee, no matter if we're in the bathroom or not." She says, making you nod.

This time, when you feel her fingers and that familiar pressure building in your tummy, she doesn't pull away. "Cum for me, pretty girl." She says, her voice sending vibrations through your core.

She stimulates you through your climax, making sure not a second of pleasure is wasted. "Such a good girl for me." She whispers, her head getting awfully close to your core.

"W-what are y-" you can't finish your sentence as she licks into you. "Mmm let me clean you up, baby." She says.

After she helps you put your shirt and pants back on, she picks up the discarded bra, putting it in her pocket. "Come on, sweet girl, you need to rest for tomorrow." She says, her tone now soft.

She holds your hand on the walk back to your bunk. She even kisses your forehead before she walks back to her own.

You don't notice that she makes a stop first.

Hyun-ju walks up to player 456's bed, leaving a torn purple fabric next to his shoes.

Stay away from her girl Gi-Hun✋🏻😏

#squid game #squid game 2 #cho hyun ju x reader #hyun ju x reader #cho hyunju #hyun ju #hyunju #cho hyun ju

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anticipatedexhale · 9 hours ago

Text

Sweet dreams silly~~.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, ekko, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi.

☆ ◞ summary: you fall asleep on them!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader, fluffff and obvi not proofread.

Jayce Talis.

The day had been long—longer than it had any right to be. You had spent hours in the lab with Jayce, watching him tinker away at a new hextech prototype, listening to him ramble about energy outputs and stabilization. His voice was soothing, deep and rich, and even though you had tried to pay attention, exhaustion was slowly creeping in.

Jayce, as usual, was caught up in his work, hyper-focused on the glowing blue crystal in his hands. “You see, if we refine the stabilization matrix, then the energy dispersal won’t—” He stopped mid-sentence when he heard a soft sigh.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw you slumped against the desk, your head tilted slightly to the side, breathing slow and even. Asleep.

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Guess my lecture wasn’t that interesting,” he murmured, shaking his head.

For a moment, he just watched you, his expression softening. You looked peaceful like this, your usual tension smoothed away by sleep. The sight of you made his heart squeeze in a way he wasn’t entirely prepared for.

He hesitated, then carefully reached out, his fingers ghosting over your cheek before deciding against it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, stretching before adjusting his position.

Then, with the utmost care, he lifted your head slightly and guided it onto his shoulder. You stirred, mumbling something incoherent, but instead of waking up, you just curled into him instinctively.

Jayce went completely still.

His brain short-circuited for a second. He could feel the warmth of your breath against his collarbone, the way your body relaxed into his.

And he was not prepared for how much he liked it.

Swallowing hard, he slowly exhaled, trying to act normal despite the fact that his heartbeat had picked up. He carefully reached for his coat draped over the back of his chair, unfolding it and draping it over your shoulders.

“There,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Wouldn’t want you getting cold.”

His work was officially forgotten. He knew he should probably wake you up, tell you to go sleep somewhere more comfortable, but... maybe just for a little while, he’d let you rest.

Besides, the way you fit against him felt a little too perfect.

With a soft chuckle, he leaned his head back against the chair, allowing himself to relax just a little.

“Yeah,” he whispered to himself, “I could get used to this.”

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

Mel Medarda.

The evening had stretched on longer than expected, filled with soft candlelight and quiet conversation. Mel had invited you to her private chambers—away from the noise of the Council, the endless debates, the weight of responsibilities pressing on both of you. It was supposed to be a simple night, just the two of you lounging on her luxurious couch, sipping on fine wine, indulging in each other’s presence.

But the warmth of the room, the softness of the cushions, and the gentle cadence of Mel’s voice had lulled you into a peaceful haze.

She had been speaking about an upcoming political maneuver, something sharp and intricate, her words like silk as she absentmindedly traced patterns on your arm with her fingertips. You had tried to keep up, really—but the exhaustion of the day weighed heavy, and before you knew it, your eyelids fluttered shut.

Mel only noticed when she posed a question and was met with silence. She turned slightly, catching the way your head had dipped forward, your breathing soft and even.

A quiet chuckle left her lips, amusement dancing in her golden eyes. “Falling asleep on me now, are we?”

She made no effort to wake you. Instead, she reached for a silk throw draped over the chaise lounge, delicately pulling it over your shoulders.

Her fingers, always so careful and precise, brushed against your cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. She let them linger for just a moment longer than necessary, taking in the peaceful expression on your face.

There was something so rare about this—seeing you like this, so utterly vulnerable and unguarded. Mel wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the quiet intimacy of the moment, but something about it made her heart ache in the gentlest way.

She adjusted her position slightly, allowing your head to rest comfortably against her lap. Slowly, she traced soft, absentminded circles along your shoulder, indulging in the quiet moment.

“Sleep well, my love,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I suppose this means I win our little debate.”

With a small smile, she leaned back, resting her head against the couch. And for once, she allowed herself the rare luxury of just being—wrapped in the warmth of your presence, in the quiet understanding that neither of you needed words to fill the space between you.

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

Viktor.

The lab was quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of a clock and the occasional scribble of a pen against paper. The usual chaos of hextech research had settled into a peaceful lull, and Viktor was fully immersed in his work, sketching complex diagrams in his notebook.

You had joined him earlier, intending to keep him company while he worked—though you had underestimated just how soothing his presence could be. The soft scratch of his pen, the low hum of his thoughts murmured under his breath, the dim glow of the lamps—it all wrapped around you like a lullaby.

Viktor, absorbed in his notes, barely registered the moment when your head slowly dipped against his shoulder. At first, he simply continued writing, assuming you were just leaning in to read his notes. But when your breathing evened out, slow and steady, he finally glanced down.

His pen paused mid-stroke.

You had fallen asleep.

Against him.

Viktor blinked, momentarily taken aback. He wasn’t used to this—someone being so comfortable, so unguarded around him. It wasn’t something he expected, nor something he thought he deserved.

Carefully, he shifted his position, mindful of his leg as he adjusted his posture. You barely stirred, only sighing softly as you nestled closer. The warmth of you against his side was... distracting.

He swallowed, suddenly aware of how close you were, how easily he could feel the rise and fall of your breath. His fingers twitched against the notebook, his thoughts scattering in a way they never did, even in the most difficult of calculations.

A part of him thought about waking you—telling you that the desk chair you were sitting in wasn’t exactly the most comfortable place for sleeping. But another part of him, the part that secretly relished this quiet moment, didn’t have the heart to disturb you.

Instead, he reached for a spare blanket draped over the back of his chair. Slowly, carefully, he wrapped it around your shoulders, making sure you wouldn’t catch a chill in the cool night air.

With an exhale, he let himself relax, just a little. He shifted his gaze back to his notes, but his mind wasn’t on hextech anymore. Instead, it was on you—on how easily you had trusted him enough to drift off like this, on the rare and unexpected comfort that came with your presence.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He turned the page in his notebook, picked up his pen, and continued writing.

But this time, the equations didn’t seem quite as important as they had before.

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

Caitlyn kiramman.

The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering golden light across Caitlyn’s study. The two of you had settled in for a quiet evening together—her going through case files, you flipping through a book she had recommended. The plan was simple: a peaceful night away from the chaos of Piltover’s streets, just the warmth of the fire and each other’s company.

But somewhere between turning the pages and the gentle rhythm of Caitlyn’s voice as she murmured notes to herself, your exhaustion won. The weight of the long day caught up with you, and before you knew it, your eyelids drooped, your body leaning ever so slightly to the side.

Caitlyn only realized what had happened when she felt your head rest against her shoulder. She stiffened, blinking in surprise.

She turned her head slightly, catching sight of your peaceful expression—eyes closed, breathing slow and steady. Her lips parted slightly, as if to say something, but no words came.

For a moment, she sat completely still, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t that she minded—far from it. But Caitlyn Kiramman wasn’t used to people leaning on her like this, depending on her for comfort in such an effortless way.

Slowly, her tense shoulders relaxed.

A soft smile tugged at her lips as she carefully shifted, just enough to make sure you were comfortable without waking you. She reached for the knitted throw blanket draped over the couch and gently pulled it over you.

Her free hand hesitated for a second before she finally allowed herself the small indulgence of brushing her fingers lightly against yours, tracing a faint pattern along your knuckles.

"You must be exhausted," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I suppose my reading material wasn’t that exciting, then."

Despite her teasing tone, there was nothing but warmth in her gaze as she looked down at you. She had spent so much time building walls, being the sharp and poised Enforcer that Piltover needed. But moments like this—quiet, simple, intimate—made her realize just how much she cherished having someone to let her guard down around.

Caitlyn let out a soft breath and, after a moment’s hesitation, leaned her head against yours, closing her eyes just for a second.

"Sweet dreams, darling," she whispered.

And for the first time in a long while, she let herself sit there and just be—with you, with the warmth of the fire, with the quiet understanding that, for once, she didn’t have to be on high alert.

Tonight, she could just be Caitlyn. And that was more than enough.

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

Vi.

The night air was cool, a faint breeze drifting through the open window of Vi’s small apartment in the Undercity. The two of you had spent the evening sprawled across her couch, talking about everything and nothing—stories from her time in prison, your latest adventures, and, of course, her constant teasing about how you could never beat her in a fistfight.

She had promised to teach you some new moves earlier, but after a full day of running around, you were too exhausted to keep up. At some point, you had curled up beside her, just listening as she talked, her voice a low, comforting hum in the background.

And then… sleep had crept up on you.

Vi only noticed when she cracked a joke and got no response. She glanced over, her smirk fading slightly when she saw your head tilted against her shoulder, your body fully relaxed against her.

“… Oh,” she muttered, blinking.

For a second, Vi just sat there, her usual confident demeanor wavering. She wasn’t used to this—someone trusting her enough to let their guard down, leaning on her in a way that wasn’t about throwing punches or watching each other’s backs in a fight.

She carefully shifted, mindful not to wake you, but when she moved even the slightest bit, you instinctively burrowed closer, nuzzling against her shoulder with a quiet sigh.

Vi froze.

Her ears went a little warm. She had taken plenty of hits in her life, but this? This was something else entirely.

She cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. “Jeez, you really just knocked out on me, huh?” she murmured, her usual teasing tone softer than usual.

She hesitated for a moment before finally draping an arm over your shoulders, pulling you just a little closer.

“… Alright, fine. I guess I can be your pillow for a little while,” she muttered, more to herself than to you.

Leaning her head back against the couch, she let her eyes drift to the ceiling, her fingers absentmindedly tracing gentle circles against your arm. For someone who had spent most of her life fighting, running, surviving—this kind of stillness was new.

But it wasn’t bad

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

Jinx.

The hideout was a mess of half-finished projects, stray bullets, and a ridiculous amount of neon paint splattered across every surface. It was chaotic—just like her—but somehow, it had become one of your favorite places to be.

Jinx had been rambling for at least an hour now, bouncing between topics as she worked on some new explosive contraption. “—and then, I was thinking, BOOM! But not just a regular boom, like, a big boom! The kind that makes people’s ears ring for days—”

She turned, expecting some kind of reaction from you, only to find you completely out.

Jinx blinked.

You were curled up against the couch, your head resting on your arm, completely passed out mid-conversation.

At first, she just stared.

Then, she let out a snort. “Pfft—you serious? I was just getting to the best part!”

She dropped onto the couch beside you, crossing her arms and pouting like a kid who had just lost their audience. “Jeez, tough crowd. Didn’t know my storytelling was that boring.”

But as much as she wanted to mess with you—maybe yell something loud just to see you jolt awake, or doodle something ridiculous on your face—she found herself hesitating.

You looked… peaceful

It was rare to see someone so relaxed around her. People were usually on edge, waiting for her next unpredictable move, but you? You had just fallen asleep like this was the safest place in the world.

Jinx huffed, but her expression softened as she flopped down beside you, tucking her legs underneath her. She nudged your cheek lightly with a gloved finger. “Y’know, you’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d be real mad ‘bout this.”

With a dramatic sigh, she grabbed an old, tattered blanket from the other side of the couch and threw it over you—mostly covering you, though she wasn’t exactly precise about it.

Then, after a moment of thought, she carefully leaned in, resting her head against yours. Just for a second.

“… Don’t go thinkin’ this means I’m goin’ soft, got it?” she mumbled, even though you were too deep in sleep to hear her.

She stayed there anyway.

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

Ekko.

Falling Asleep on Ekko

The night was peaceful in the underground hideout. The hum of machinery and the distant sounds of the city above faded into a quiet lull, and you found yourself sitting next to Ekko in his little corner of the world. The light from his contraptions flickered softly, casting a warm glow that made the otherwise cold and metallic room feel like home.

You had been chatting with him for hours—about your latest adventures, the wild things you’d seen, and some of the crazy plans you both had for the future. Ekko was always so full of ideas, always looking to improve things, but tonight he seemed more focused on listening to you than anything else.

You could feel the comfort of his presence—how he always made you feel safe, like nothing could touch you when he was around.

But, somewhere between his soothing voice and the warmth of the room, your body started to betray you. The exhaustion of the day, the endless thinking, and the stress of the world above all melted away. Your eyelids grew heavy, and before you knew it, your head had dropped forward, finally succumbing to the pull of sleep.

Ekko didn’t notice at first, lost in his thoughts as he tinkered with a small device in his hand. But when he glanced over and saw you, your head resting on his shoulder, he froze.

For a moment, he just stared at you, trying to figure out if you were just resting for a second or if you had actually fallen asleep on him. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he realized you were out cold, a peaceful expression on your face.

His heart did a little flip, but Ekko wasn’t the type to show how flustered he was—so he kept his focus on the work in front of him, pretending he wasn’t slightly melted by the way you trusted him enough to fall asleep like that.

But then, you shifted slightly, your body leaning a little further into him, and before he could stop himself, Ekko gently wrapped his arm around you to keep you steady. He didn’t want to risk you waking up if you were uncomfortable.

His fingers brushed against your hair, the lightest touch, but it made his breath catch in his throat. For a moment, he just sat there, letting the quiet fill the space between you.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered under his breath, glancing down at you. “Otherwise, I’d be all annoyed you fell asleep on me.”

But the truth was, he didn’t mind at all. It was like for once, he didn’t have to be the one in control, didn’t have to be the one always thinking a step ahead. He could just be here, with you, with the weight of your head against his shoulder.

Ekko leaned back against the wall, letting his head rest for a moment as well. He didn’t fall asleep himself—no, his mind was always too active for that—but he let himself enjoy the stillness of the moment.

And when the morning came, and you stirred, groggily waking up, he’d be right there, ready to pull you into a warm hug. Because that’s what Ekko did—he protected, he cared, and he made sure you always felt at home, no matter where you were.

But for now, he just sat, smiling softly to himself, and allowed himself to savor the quiet and the warmth of you beside him.

Authors note: U GUYS ARE ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL THANK YOU SOSOSOSO MUCH FOR ALL THE SUPPORT AND LOBE U HAVE GIVEN ME MWAHH

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iamquiantrelle · 21 hours ago

Text

SO INTO YOU ────── iamquaintrelle

# pairings: aurelien tchouameni x black reader (✨💕) # wc: 5.9k

# tags: @sucredreamer @snowseasonmademe @jessnotwiththemess @rougereds @judectrl @mufasathatniggatho @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @ayeshami @greyishbach @haartemis @goldenngt @solidbriii @sailurmewn @bbgkoo @mauvecherie-writes @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro

# summary: you’re a multiple grammy winning artist with a record breaking single based on an embarrassing crush on a footballer & when that single demands visuals who else do you ask to be your video vixen besides said footballer crush? but is he also willing to blow your back out too? ♡ masterlist

You were never drinking tequila again. Ever.

The tequila bottle sat empty on your coffee table like evidence from a crime scene, mocking you with memories of last night's social media bravery. Your Grammy awards caught the morning light, their gold surfaces throwing judgmental sparkles across your living room walls. You'd really done it this time - slid into Aurélien Tchouaméni's DMs like your verified check mark gave you the right to disturb his peace at 2 AM.

Your manager Carmen sat in the armchair across from you, tablet in hand as she went through tomorrow's flight details to Madrid. But your attention kept drifting to your phone, to that cursed Instagram conversation where you'd actually typed out "hey, random question but would you maybe want to be in my music video? no pressure lol" - asking him to star in your video for "So Into You," a song that lived in that dangerous space between confession and plausible deniability.

“Earth to lovergirl,” Carmen's professional tone carried just a hint of amusement. “You good? Or still having flashbacks to drunk-texting one of football's finest?”

His response still sat there in your DMs, casual as anything: “The song that's breaking records? I'd be down. Though I have to ask - any particular reason you thought of me? 😉”

You'd screamed into three different pillows after reading that.

“I still can't believe he said yes,” you mumbled, sinking deeper into the couch as Carmen scrolled through your embarrassing Instagram activity history with restrained glee. The evidence was damning: every single post liked within seconds, story reactions that probably made you look unhinged, the way you'd set notifications for his account months ago after that first video blessed your FYP.

It had been innocent enough at first - a clip of him in a post-match interview, fresh taper fade catching the stadium lights. Something about the way he carried himself, that quiet confidence wrapped in genuine humility, had you hitting that follow button before the video even finished. The way he'd laugh with his whole chest in interviews, how he could switch from intense focus on the field to the sweetest smile off it - you were gone before you even realized you were falling.

Your best friend had watched your descent with barely contained amusement. “Not you making a whole Tumblr shrine," she'd cackled one wine night, scrolling through @tchouamenithoughts. “Day 43 of manifesting Aurélien Tchouaméni to ruin my life’? Girl...”

“Listen,” you groaned now, watching Carmen pull up the same account on her phone, “we all cope differently.”

“Cope? You wrote a whole chart-topping song about how he 'controls the game like he could control your heart.' That's not coping, that's down catastrophic,” she said, maintaining her composure even as her eyes danced with mirth.

She wasn't wrong. You'd lost hours to The Bridge episodes, team interviews, even compilation videos of his best plays. You'd lost count of how many times you'd woken up hot and bothered from dreams featuring that TCHM chain of his dangling above you, his knowing smile as he– nope. Not going there. Not when you were about to meet him in person.

Your phone lit up with a text from an unknown Spanish number:

“Looking forward to finally meeting tomorrow. Been keeping those 2AM DMs for motivation during training 😊 - AT”

“Oh my god,” you breathed, showing Carmen the screen. “He saved the messages.”

“Of course he did,” she said, checking something on her tablet. “You really think he didn't notice how you watch every single one of his Instagram lives? Even the 3 AM ones after matches where he's just vibing to Afrobeats in his gym? Those thirst traps?”

The way he moved to those beats had no business living rent-free in your head like it did. Neither did the way his eyes got soft when he talked about his family in interviews, or how that dangerous half-smirk would appear after a particularly clean tackle. You'd documented it all on your Tumblr, built whole theories around his personality based on how he interacted with teammates, analyzed every public appearance like it was your job.

“What if he found it?" The thought hit you suddenly. “The Tumblr account?”

Carmen's composed expression cracked slightly with a knowing smile. “Girl, if he has, he still said yes to the video. What does that tell you?”

You didn't want to think about what that might mean. Couldn't let yourself hope that maybe he'd noticed you too, that perhaps those quick likes on your Instagram stories weren't just courtesy, that the way he'd immediately responded to your drunk DM meant something.

Tomorrow you'd be in Madrid. Tomorrow you'd see if that confidence you'd analyzed in countless videos translated in person, if his smile was really as dangerous as it seemed through a screen.

“Make sure you pack some lingerie,” Carmen said as she gathered her things, a slight smirk playing at her lips. “Just in case those Tumblr manifestations worked.”

You buried your face in a throw pillow, but your heart was already racing at the possibility.

**************************************************

The Madrid morning sun painted the makeup room in ethereal hues, casting everything in a dreamlike glow that did nothing to settle your nerves. You sat still as the artist perfected your look - soft glam that highlighted your warm brown skin, each baby hair laid with precision, curls falling in a carefully crafted cascade. The "effortlessly gorgeous" aesthetic you'd aimed for had, ironically, required a 5 AM start.

“He's here,” your assistant's voice cut through your reverie, and your heart performed a gymnastics routine worthy of Olympic qualification.

Here's the thing about Aurélien Tchouaméni - all the 4K footage in the world, every professional photograph, every high-definition broadcast couldn't capture what he was in person. The way he commanded space wasn't something a camera could translate.

He had to duck slightly entering the room (had he always been that tall?), the morning light catching him like it knew exactly what it was doing. The fitted white tee and designer jeans he wore were deceptively simple, the kind of casual that required serious thought. That signature "TCHM" pendant caught the light as he moved, the diamond Cuban link chain you'd written dissertations about on Tumblr proving worthy of every analysis. You'd watched enough matches to know his height, studied enough footage to know his build, but something about him actually being there, all 6'2" of him absolutely dominating the space, had your carefully constructed composure threatening to crumble.

“So," he said, that dangerous half-smile playing at his lips as he approached, “you're the one who slid in my DMs at 2 AM?”

The ground could swallow you whole any minute now. His French accent in person was a weapon that should be classified as illegal. “Listen, about that–“

“Nah, don't apologize," he laughed, the sound rich enough to drown in. "It was cute. Especially that part about my ball control being 'unfairly hot.'”

"Please tell me you're joking," you groaned, but you couldn't help smiling. His presence was magnetic - that quiet confidence you'd analyzed through screens somehow even more potent in the flesh.

"Three fire emojis and everything," he grinned, and you noticed his taper fade was fresh, clearly done for the shoot. The chain caught the light again as he leaned slightly closer, shortening the considerable distance between you. "But for what it's worth? Your voice is unfairly hot too.”

Your cognitive functions ceased entirely. The proximity brought his cologne into focus - something expensive and intoxicating that absolutely wasn't helping your ability to form coherent thoughts. The height difference hit differently in person, requiring you to tilt your head back to meet his gaze.

“Five minutes to places!” the director's call pierced through your haze, saving you from having to remember basic language skills.

The shoot itself was a study in sweet torture. For the first time in your career, you found yourself flubbing takes - missing cues, getting lost in moments. You, who prided yourself on one-take perfection, needed multiple runs at the simplest scenes. But how could you focus when he kept looking at you like that? The way his eyes would drift slowly down your body between setups, how his hands would rub together - a tell you'd seen in dozens of post-match interviews when something particularly caught his interest. But then again, Aurélien was known for giving everything his complete attention. You'd watched enough footage to know that.

He played his role perfectly - too perfectly, really. Each take had him hitting his marks with the same precision he showed on the field, but there was something else there. Something in the way his hand would linger just a moment too long when helping you up, how his eyes would catch yours in the monitor playback.

“Last setup!” the director announced, and you silently thanked whatever higher power was listening. Your heart could only take so much.

“So," Aurélien said during the lighting adjustment, his voice dropping to a register that did dangerous things to your pussy. “Since you're such a football fan now... maybe you'd want to come to my match this weekend? VIP seats?”

Your heart stuttered. “Yeah? What if someone recognizes me?”

"Let them," he smiled, and that chain glinted again as he shifted closer. "Maybe I want people to know, especially about that DM.”

You couldn't help laughing despite your burning cheeks. "You're never letting that go, are you?”

"Never," he agreed, then added more softly: "But I'm glad you sent it. Been trying to figure out how to slide in your DMs too, especially after seeing all those likes on my gym posts.”

You looked up at him (way up - seriously, the height difference was doing things to you), catching that dangerous glint in his eye. “Oh….”

"Front row seats," he continued, voice dropping lower. "Right behind the bench. That way I'll know exactly where to look after I score.”

Your heart did another full gymnastic routine. “Pretty confident about that goal, huh?”

"I'm confident about a lot of things," he smiled, and that chain caught the light once more as he leaned down slightly. “Like how good those likes looked on my notifications.”

You were going to pass away on the spot. But then his hand found yours, and that smile softened into something more private, more real. “Sure I’ll go.”

Maybe drunk you had known exactly what she was doing after all.

******************************************

Thank god for these VIP seats because the view? Immaculate.

Grandpa Ancelotti finally put Aurélien in his rightful position and oh my god, watching him command the midfield in person hit so different. TV did not prepare you for this. At all.

The way his orange kit stretched across those shoulders when he'd gesture to teammates? Criminal. And those calves? You'd seen them in videos but in person they were actually unreal. The entire package was just unfair - whoever said football kits weren't flattering had never seen Aurélien Tchouaméni in one. His body was sculptural, all lean muscle and perfect proportions, like god really sat down and took extra time crafting him specifically to ruin your life.

You watched him talk tactics with Jude, all authority and focused energy, and the way he carried himself on the field had you feeling some type of way. His whole demeanor shifted during matches - all business and pure power. The intensity in his eyes when he'd call out positions? Yeah, you were definitely going to need a glass of water.

When he made that assist - a perfect pass that had the crowd screaming - you jumped up cheering before remembering you were supposed to be playing it cool. But how could you when he glanced your way during the celebration with that smile?

Every time he'd body someone off the ball, the way his muscles flexed with the effort... Lord have mercy. You'd really thought writing a song about him was peak down bad but watching him work in person? Your brain was absolutely short-circuiting.

During a water break, he caught your eye and adjusted his shirt - a move you'd seen in countless matches but this time it felt deliberate, just for you. The stadium lights hit his dark skin just right, making him look like he was literally glowing. And that jawline? Sharp enough to cut glass.

The final whistle had you watching his post-match routine like you hadn't already memorized it from videos - the handshakes, the quick interviews, the way he'd run his hand over his fresh fade when downplaying how good he was. But then he looked up at your spot again with that private little smile and yeah... you were absolutely screwed.

Because watching Aurélien Tchouaméni absolutely own the soccer pitch? That wasn't just attraction anymore. That was straight up ruination.

You made it to the designated area and only had to wait around 30 minutes before Aurélien showed up, fresh from the shower, dressed casually but still somehow managing to look like a walking problem. A clean black tee stretched across his chest, showing off the definition of his arms, paired with dark jeans that sat just right on his waist. And the way his chain rested against his collarbone? Yeah, this was dangerous.

“You waited long?” he asked, a lazy smile on his lips as he approached, exuding the kind of confidence that came naturally to him.

“Not really,” you said, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

His eyes dragged over you in a way that felt intentional, like he was cataloging every detail. “Good. Would’ve hated to keep you waiting.”

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, but before you could overthink it, he tilted his head. “You hungry?”

You blinked. “Yeah.”

“Come on, let’s get something to eat,” he said, nodding toward the exit.

You followed him out, keeping pace as he led you to his car — his matte black Lamborghini Urus. Of course. He opened the passenger door for you, stepping back just enough to give you space but still managing to be close, like his presence was a gravitational pull.

“You good?” he asked, one brow lifting as you hesitated before getting in.

You nodded quickly, sliding into the plush seat, inhaling the faint scent of leather and his cologne —clean, expensive, and entirely him. He shut the door gently before walking around to the driver’s side, settling in smoothly before starting the engine. The deep purr of the car filled the quiet, and when he rested one hand on the wheel, the other on the gear shift, your eyes traced the veins in his forearm, the way his fingers flexed slightly.

Yeah, this was setting you off.

Aurélien drove with an effortless confidence, maneuvering through Madrid’s streets like he’d done it a million times — which, of course, he had. As he looped around the Bernabéu, he nodded toward the stadium. “You should come back for a tour.”

Your head turned sharply toward him. “What?”

He glanced at you, amused by your surprise. “You liked watching me play, right?”

Like was an understatement. Watching him on the pitch, commanding the game with precision and strength, was one thing. But now, seeing him here, driving through the city with that same quiet control, his jaw flexing as he focused on the road, his fingers tapping against the wheel — it was too much.

You were obsessed. Fully.

Your crush was sitting mere inches away, effortlessly charming, looking stupid good behind the wheel, and here you were, acting all timid. No. You needed to snap out of it. Because if you didn’t make a move now, when would you?

“You like tacos?” His voice cut through your thoughts as he stopped at a red light, glancing at you with a knowing smirk.

Of course, you liked tacos. But right now? Food was the last thing on your mind.

Because tomorrow night, you’d be on a flight back to LA. Who knew when you’d see him again? Your lives were on different continents. And after everything —after DMing him, after him actually showing up for your video — didn’t you deserve this one night?

Your heart pounded as you turned toward him fully, a slow smile curving your lips. “Tacos can wait.”

Aurélien’s lips curved into a smirk, the kind that sent heat rushing through you. He tilted his head slightly, feigning innocence. “Oh? And what are you in the mood for?”

The way his voice dipped on the last word made your breath hitch. He knew exactly what you meant. And judging by the way his fingers flexed against the steering wheel, he liked where this was going.

“Maybe we can go back to your place?” you suggested, trying to sound casual despite the thrum of anticipation running through you.

He hummed, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip like he was weighing his options. “For something to eat…or?”

“Definitely or,” you giggled, the boldness surprising even yourself.

Aurélien let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he turned onto a quieter road. “Alright. So, UberEats later. Sounds good.”

Your stomach flipped at the ease in his tone, like this was the most natural thing in the world. Then his eyes flicked to you, warm and dark with something unreadable, and he bit his lip. “You’re so beautiful.”

The compliment was soft, unprompted, and it caught you off guard. Your chest tightened, heat creeping up your neck. “Thank you.”

He didn’t rush the drive, taking his time maneuvering through the streets, letting conversation flow easily between you. He asked about your time in Madrid, what you’d done so far, if you liked the city. And the whole time, his voice had that smooth, rich quality that made every word feel like it was meant just for you.

When he finally pulled up to his house — a sleek, modern place with clean lines and warm lighting —you barely had time to take it in before a low bark caught your attention.

Ocho.

The Belgian Malinois trotted toward the door as soon as you stepped inside, his dark eyes locked onto you with curiosity. Aurélien placed a reassuring hand on your lower back, his touch warm and grounding. “Let him sniff you first,” he murmured.

You extended your hand slightly, letting Ocho inspect you. The dog’s ears twitched before he gave a small huff, seemingly satisfied.

Aurélien grinned. “Good boy.” Then, switching to French, he said, “Va dans ta chambre.” (Go to your room.)

Ocho obeyed immediately, padding off toward what you assumed was his designated space.

“He’s well-trained,” you noted, impressed.

Aurélien shrugged, closing the door behind him. “Had to be. He’s my best boy.” Then he turned to you, his gaze softer now. “You want anything to drink?”

The fact that he even asked — so polite, so sweet —made your heart squeeze a little.

You shook your head. “I’m good.”

Still, he grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and a water anyway, tucking them under his arm before reaching for you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in just enough to make your breath hitch. “Come on.”

As he guided you upstairs, his lips found the side of your neck, pressing slow, lingering kisses against your skin as you walked. His goatee tickled, the warmth of his mouth sending shivers down your spine.

By the time you made it to his bedroom, you were already gripping his arm, steadying yourself against the dizzying effect of his touch.

Aurélien smirked as he nudged the door shut behind you. “Still thinking about tacos?”

Not even a little bit. “No.”

He placed the Gatorade and water bottle on the bedside table then Aurélien’s hands were warm against your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulled you in. His lips found yours, soft at first, tasting, teasing, savoring. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, his lips moving against yours in a way that had your heart thudding in your chest.

But then his hands slid lower, gripping the curve of your hips, and something shifted. The kiss deepened, turning hotter, messier — needy. His tongue met yours, stroking, claiming, pulling soft moans from your lips that he swallowed greedily.

The room was quiet except for the sounds of your mouths working against each other, the wet slide of tongues, the occasional breathless sighs escaping between kisses. His fingers trailed up your back, making you arch into him, pressing your body flush against his. The heat between you was dizzying, his scent — fresh, clean, and something uniquely him —wrapping around you like a drug.

Your hands roamed, exploring the hard planes of his back, the ridges of muscle beneath his skin. He groaned into your mouth when your nails scratched lightly at his nape, the sound vibrating through you and making your thighs clench.

His hands moved with purpose now, sliding under the hem of your top, pushing it up, breaking the kiss only long enough to strip it from you. Then he went for your bottoms, peeling them away, leaving you in just your underwear. His dark eyes roved over you, taking you in, heat flickering in his gaze.

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost to himself, before his hands were back on you, caressing, exploring, like he needed to feel every inch of your skin.

You didn’t hesitate, your fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. He let you pull it over his head, and your breath hitched when you got a full view of him — his abs looked even better in person, all taut muscle and definition, a masterpiece carved in 4D.

Your fingers traced along the ridges, relishing the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

Aurélien groaned, low and deep, his head tipping back slightly. “You’re really testing my patience, bébé.”

You smiled, dragging your fingertips lower, teasing along the waistband of his jeans. Your fingers worked at the button, then the zipper, easing the denim down his hips. He helped, pushing them the rest of the way until they pooled at his feet, leaving him in just his Aime boxers.

Your breath caught.

He was hard.

The thick outline of his length strained against the fabric, the sight making heat pool low in your belly.

Your hands ghosted over his erection, barely grazing him, but it was enough to make him suck in a sharp breath.

“Shit,” he hissed, his hips jerking slightly at the contact.

You muttered an apology, but he just shook his head, eyes dark with heat. “It’s okay, bébé.”

Then his lips were on yours again, stealing the breath from your lungs, guiding you toward the bed. You barely registered the feel of the mattress beneath you before he was pressing you down, his body hovering over yours, his heat surrounding you.

And from the way he looked at you — like he was about to ruin you — you knew you were in for it.

His hands skimmed down your body to unclasp your bra then his fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them down your legs with agonizing slowness. His gaze roved over you, hungry and heated, before he lowered himself between your thighs.

His mouth found your skin, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses from your navel downward, making you shiver in anticipation.

And then — oh.

Aurélien’s lips, his tongue, the warmth of his breath against your pussy had you gasping, your fingers tangling in his curls as he worked you over with a skill that had your thighs trembling.

He was deliberate but messy, completely focused on you, his lips wrapping around your clit while his tongue moved in slow, devastating circles. When he slipped two fingers inside, curling them just right, a strangled moan escaped your lips.

“Tu prends si bien, bébé,” he murmured against you, the vibration of his voice making you whimper. His fingers stroked inside you, matching the rhythm of his tongue, and your hips bucked instinctively. He just chuckled, holding you in place as he kept going, kept building you higher, until—

And then he pulled away.

A whimper of protest left your lips before you could stop it, and he smirked at your pout, his thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth like he was savoring the taste of you.

“Be right back,” he said, pressing a final kiss to your inner thigh before moving toward his dresser.

You pushed up on your elbows, watching as he pulled out a condom, then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down. Your breath hitched at the sight of him — thick, long, and impossibly hard.

Aurélien caught you staring and smirked. “Like what you see?”

You swallowed, your cheeks heating. “Obviously.”

That made him chuckle as he rolled the condom on, then returned to the bed, his hands guiding your legs further apart as he settled between them. One arm reached behind you, grabbing a pillow and tucking it under your lower back, another small but thoughtful gesture that made your chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with arousal.

His lips found your neck as he nudged himself against your entrance, teasing you with shallow strokes, making your body crave him even more.

And as he finally, finally pushed inside, a deep moan left your lips, because — oh. Oh.

This was happening. Your crush, your fantasy, your dream — was now your reality.

His thrusts were slow at first, letting you feel every inch of him stretching you, filling you, but it didn’t take long before the teasing gave way to something deeper, more urgent. He kissed you through it, all tongue and heat, swallowing your moans as his hips found a steady rhythm.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with pleasure. “So wet for me.”

The chain around his neck swung forward with every movement, the cool metal brushing against your skin, dangling just above your face, and god, he looked beautiful like this — face twisted in pleasure, jaw clenched, brows furrowed, dark eyes locked on yours like he never wanted to look away.

“Tu es si belle,” he groaned, dropping his head to your neck, dragging open-mouthed kisses along your throat before moving lower. His tongue flicked over your nipple before he took it into his mouth, sucking just enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. Your back arched off the bed, hands tangling in his curls as you whimpered his name.

Aurélien pulled back slightly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before he released you with a wet pop. His eyes met yours, dark and full of intent.

“Turn over for me,” he said, voice like gravel, thick with desire.

You swallowed, your body already obeying before your mind could catch up. He sat back, watching you get on all fours, his large hands smoothing over the curve of your ass, squeezing each cheek once before dragging up your spine. The way he looked at you, eyes burning with hunger, sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

“You’re perfect,” he muttered, almost to himself. Then he ran a hand through his curls, exhaling sharply before gripping your hips and lining himself up again.

And when he pushed back inside, deeper than before, a broken moan fell from your lips.

“That’s it, bébé,” he murmured, his fingers digging into your skin as he started to move, slow at first, teasing. “Taking me so well.”

His pace quickened, the sound of skin on skin filling the air, along with the low, guttural groans spilling from his lips. His chain swung again, the rhythmic clink of metal adding to the mix of sensations that had you spiraling.

“Feel me?” he rasped, dragging a hand up your spine to fist your hair gently, pulling just enough to make you arch. “So deep inside you. Fuck.”

You whimpered, barely able to form words, barely able to breathe with how good he felt, how he filled every inch of you like he was made for this.

“Talk to me,” he urged, voice raw. “Let me hear you.”

“I’m—” Your words broke off into a moan as he angled his hips just right, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.

“Yeah?” he taunted, a smirk in his voice. “Right there, huh?”

You could only nod frantically, your body trembling as he picked up the pace, chasing both of your releases. His angled his hips once more and that made you let out something primal.

“Damn, yes fuck me back,” he crooned just before you felt his lips touch the middle of spine. You shivered at the sensation, moaning out his name like a prayer.

“Aurélien….”

He rocked into you harder, faster and it made your toes curl. He was relentless and you loved every second of it. The sounds you both were making was the perfect lullaby of lust and pleasure.

“Mm…shit….Aurélien.” You couldn’t stop from moaning his name and judging by the way his hands gripped your hips each time, you could tell that he liked it.

Soon, you both were pushed over that edge, moaning as your orgasm overwhelmed your entire body. After awhile, you felt him slip out of you and then the bed shifted as he moved to throw out the condom.

Your body still hummed with the aftershocks of pleasure, limbs heavy, breath slowly evening out. You were probably a mess — hair wild, lips swollen, body still flushed with heat — but Aurélien? He looked unfairly good.

He was leaning back against the headboard, his chest still rising and falling steadily, dark skin glowing under the dim light. The chain that had been dangling in your face minutes ago now rested against his collarbones, catching the light with each small movement. He reached over to grab his Gatorade, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip before setting it on the bedside table.

Then, he turned to you, dark eyes scanning your face, something soft in his expression. “You want some?”

You shook your head, not because you weren’t thirsty, but because you couldn’t stop staring at him.

His lips quirked slightly. “You must really like me.”

The way he said it wasn’t cocky or teasing — it was knowing, like he’d been piecing it together all night. And maybe he was right, because you couldn’t help the dopey-ass smile that spread across your face.

Aurélien chuckled, shaking his head before exhaling through his nose. “I like you too. Wish you didn’t beat me to sliding in the DMs first, though.”

You lifted a brow. “You really mad about that?”

He made a little face, scrunching his nose slightly, which was unfairly adorable for someone who had just rearranged your insides. “Not that much,” he admitted. “But I would’ve liked the chase.”

You scoffed, rolling onto your side to face him. “The chase? What are you, a lion?”

That made him smile, a real one, warm and lazy, like he was letting his guard down completely. “When a guy likes a girl, he usually asks her out first,” he said simply. “You were in my likes, I was in yours… I was about to slide through, but yeah, you beat me to it.”

Your stomach did a little flip.

He reached out then, running a hand down your arm before linking his fingers loosely with yours. “But I’m gonna do the rest, okay?”

Your breath caught, your heart stumbling in your chest. This was Aurélien Tchouaméni, your crush, your dream, and now, here he was — holding your hand, looking at you like this wasn’t just some one-night thing.

“Okay,” you whispered, squeezing his fingers lightly.

His smile widened, and then he tugged you closer, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before settling beside you, keeping your hand in his like he wasn’t planning to let go anytime soon.

You couldn’t help but stare at him — at the strong lines of his face, the sharp jaw softened by the faintest hint of stubble, the fullness of his lips, the way his lashes rested against his cheeks when he blinked. He was so beautiful.

“What?” he murmured, catching you staring.

You shrugged, biting your lip. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

How crazy it was that you were here. That this wasn’t a dream. That your crush — the man who dominated the midfield with an effortless cool, the one you’d written lyrics about, the one you’d been too shy to DM for the longest time — was lying next to you, holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“About how wild this is,” you admitted.

Aurélien chuckled, his dimples flashing as he turned onto his side, propping his head up with his free hand. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “I mean, this time yesterday, I was just hoping you’d even notice me at the game. Now I’m in your bed.”

That smirk made a reappearance, but his voice was soft when he said, “I noticed you way before the game, bébé.”

Your stomach flipped. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” he said easily. “You think I wasn’t watching whenever you posted on Instagram? When you DM’d me?”

Your face warmed. “You didn’t answer right away.”

He grinned, teasing. “Had to make you sweat a little.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Wow, so you really are a lion.”

“Gotta keep things interesting,” he mused. Then, more seriously, “But I was always gonna answer.”

Something about the way he said it made your heart squeeze. Like he wasn’t just saying it to make you feel good. Like, in some way, he’d been waiting for this too.

You swallowed. “And now that I’m here?”

Aurélien’s eyes darkened slightly, but there was something tender in his gaze as he squeezed your fingers. “Now,” he murmured, shifting closer, “I’m making sure you come back.”

Your breath caught, and before you could think of a response, he kissed you.

It was slow this time, unhurried, like he wanted to take his time tasting you. His lips moved against yours with an intoxicating rhythm, deepening the kiss little by little until you were completely lost in it. His hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheek as he kissed you like he had all the time in the world.

And maybe he did. Maybe this wasn’t just for tonight.

Maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.

Aurélien pulled back just enough to search your face, his lips still brushing against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns along your arm as he studied you with that knowing smirk that made your stomach flip.

“That song,” he murmured. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”

Your heart stuttered.

For a second, you thought about playing coy, maybe teasing him a little, but what was the point? He already knew. You could see it in the glint of amusement in his eyes, the confidence in his voice.

You sighed, defeated but grinning. “Yeah,” you admitted softly. “It’s about you.”

Aurélien chuckled, shaking his head like he’d known it all along. “I knew it,” he said, his voice rich with satisfaction. “You should write another one.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Another song?”

“Mm-hmm.” His fingers brushed down your back, tracing the curve of your spine. “One about tonight.”

Your breath hitched at the implication, at the way his voice had dipped lower, rougher.

You bit your lip. “Might have to.”

Aurélien grinned. “Good,” he murmured, kissing you again. “Make it a love song.”

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xoxo-lixie · 18 hours ago

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Gloss and Glances ᝰ.ᐟ

Paring- Felix x Reader

Summary- Backstage, Felix pouts for attention as Y/N, Stray Kids’ makeup artist and his girlfriend, applies his lip gloss. Frustrated by her focus on work, he kisses her, smudging the gloss

The backstage area of the arena was alive with energy—stylists rushing between stations, cords snaking across the floor, and the distant echo of fans chanting outside. Under the bright dressing room lights, Felix sat patiently in a chair, though “patiently” might have been a stretch. His foot tapped lightly against the floor, not out of nerves for the upcoming performance, but for an entirely different reason.

Y/N, Stray Kids’ trusted makeup artist and Felix’s not-so-secret girlfriend, was busy organizing her kit. Her hands moved quickly, adjusting palettes and brushes, her focus sharp. She’d already done touch-ups on most of the members, and now it was Felix’s turn.

Finally.

Y/N approached with her usual professional demeanor, her eyes scanning his face with practiced precision. She picked up the small tube of clear lip gloss from her kit and uncapped it, not noticing the way Felix’s eyes had softened the moment she stepped closer.

“Alright, stay still,” she murmured, her thumb gently resting under his chin to steady his face.

Felix obeyed, but his pout had already started to form, subtle at first. His gaze never left her face, drinking in the details—the slight crinkle between her brows when she concentrated, the way her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she focused. She was always like this when she worked: calm, meticulous, almost too professional for his liking.

He wanted her attention—not the kind she gave to every member, but his attention.

“You know,” Felix said quietly, his voice low and slightly playful, “I think you like this gloss more than you like me.”

Y/N’s hand paused mid-swipe, her eyes flickering up to meet his. “Don’t be dramatic.” She fought the small smile threatening to break through her professional facade.

Felix, not one to back down, pushed his pout out further. “I’m serious. You’re focusing so hard on my lips, but not because you like them. It’s just… work to you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, finishing the last swipe of gloss on his bottom lip. She leaned back slightly, inspecting her work. “First of all, I do like your lips. They’re symmetrical, soft, and easy to work with.”

Felix’s pout deepened. “That sounds like something you’d say about a good makeup brush.”

She couldn’t help it—she laughed, the sound light and genuine, making Felix’s heart flutter. But she didn’t respond with words. Instead, she reached out with a tissue to clean up a tiny smudge near the corner of his mouth.

Felix caught her wrist gently before she could pull away. His touch was soft, but it sent a current of warmth straight through her.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice softer now, no teasing undertone—just sincere, raw affection.

Her heart stuttered. She met his gaze, expecting another playful remark, but instead, she was met with eyes filled with warmth, the kind of look that melted away the noise around them.

“I miss you,” he whispered simply.

Y/N felt her breath hitch. They’d been so busy lately—schedules packed, rehearsals endless. Even though she was always near him, it wasn’t the same. She couldn’t respond like she wanted to, not in the middle of work, surrounded by staff and members.

But Felix didn’t care about any of that.

Without another word, he leaned forward, closing the small gap between them, and pressed his lips to hers. It was soft, tentative at first, as if asking for permission. The faint sweetness of the gloss lingered between them, but neither of them cared if it smudged.

Y/N froze for a heartbeat, stunned by the suddenness of it, but then she melted into the kiss, her hand instinctively finding its place on his cheek. It was brief, maybe only a few seconds, but it held everything they hadn’t had the chance to say aloud.

When Felix finally pulled back, his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners from the soft smile spreading across his face.

“Now,” he whispered, his forehead resting gently against hers, “that’s attention.”

Y/N was breathless, her heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the chaotic energy of the backstage environment. She tried to muster a response, something witty to break the tension, but all she managed was a soft, shaky laugh.

“You just ruined your gloss,” she whispered.

Felix grinned, unbothered. “Guess you’ll have to fix it.”

Y/N shook her head, her cheeks flushed, but she picked up the gloss again. This time, as she leaned in to reapply it, Felix didn’t pout or complain. He just watched her with the same loving look, his heart full, knowing that even in the chaos, they’d always find small moments like this—where it was just the two of them, gloss and all.

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cinnawonbabe · 1 day ago

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CREEP

part one

pairings: peeping jungwon x sister’s best friend female reader

warnings: jungwon is a peeping creep watching y/n piss, and shower, masturbation, slight descriptions of intentional self inflicted harm, mentions of blood, slight, but not really, dubcon from reader, oral fem receiving, peeping on her sleeping

overview: jungwon had a weird creepy obsession with peeping on his older sister’s best friend whenever she comes over. he’s done it for so long it became like a game that he didn’t get caught in…. until it wasn’t.

taglist🏷️ : @nayeoniiz

jungwon was sitting in the living room, working on one of his many assignments from university. he was in year one and if he wanted to be the best, he had to earn it. he was so focused on his work that he didn’t realize when his sister walked in, accompanied by her best friend y/n. jungwon studies were soon halted by his sister coming into close proximity of him.

“hey wonnie whatcha doing?” his sister asked, breaking his trance from his work. he looked up and his eyes met with both of the girls. a light red glow tinted his cheeks. the girls knew jungwon had a fat crush on y/n and it became apparent that they took joy in teasing him for fun.

to them, jungwon was this sweet little boy, always caught up in his studies. you could always find his face stuffed in a good book. but the reality of it was far more sinister. little did they know how pervy jungwon really was: waiting until the late hours of the night to sneak and creep on y/n at any given moment. there was one summer where y/n was changing into a swimsuit in the bathroom. jungwon was hidden in the bathtub, peeping through the crack on the shower curtain. he watched her undress from her clothes and slide into her bathing suit while he rubbed one out quietly to the scene that unfolded in front of him. no one knew that this ”innocent” boy had a dark, twisted secret and he liked to keep it that way. or so he thought he could.

jungwon was now averting his attention away from the girls, ignoring their teasing looks. “can you guys just leave me be? i’m studying for an important exam coming up,” jungwon said as he began to collect his belongings.

“aww is wonnie going away? you don’t wanna spend time with me anymore?” y/n taunted. she knew exactly how to rile this boy up. jungwon shook his head, quickly grabbing the rest of his things and fleeing from the situation. he ran straight up to his room, closing the door behind him. he leaned his back against the door, taking a few deep breaths trying to calm himself. his trousers felt tight and uncomfortable. he wasn’t surprised to see how visibly hard he was. he couldn’t help it. y/n looked too stunning, her skin unmarked, so beautifully soft. he just wanted to devour her.

he locked his door and made his way to his bed, placing his belongings on the floor next to him. he slid his hands in his pants and underwear, bringing them down to his ankles before grabbing the lotion from the nightstand next to his bed. he had to fix his little problem now.

he squeezed a decent amount of lotion onto his hand and grabbed his throbbing member. the cold sensation from the lotion caused him to hiss as he stroked it, images of y/n flashing in his head. from seeing her naked, her flawless skin being illuminated by the dull bathroom light, from her unknowing sleeping figure’s chest rising and falling with each breath she took, her lips parting with every snore. oh how he adored her. he quickened his pace, firmly stroking his member to every fleeting thought of y/n. he choked on a moan, keeping quiet so no one knew what he did behind closed doors.

then, his imagination took a turn. he started imagining himself stripping her naked, marking up her sweet, soft skin. he thought about how she tasted, what her insides felt like. it felt so good. and he was so, so close. rubbing his thumb against the slit on his tip, he couldn’t contain it any longer. he was reaching his climax. with a final stroke he came hard into his hands, his body convulsing as he muffled a moan, biting hard onto his bottom lip. he could taste something metallic in his mouth. fuck. he thought. he’s bleeding. he quickly wiped the mess he made of himself onto his clothes and took them off, tossing them into his dirty clothes hamper in the corner of his room. he looked into the mirror next to his dresser. his lip didn’t look that bad, but he needed to clean up quickly. he quietly and quickly rushed straight to the bathroom that was down the hall. he did not need to get caught running naked while his sister and y/n were downstairs. he locked himself in the bathroom, taking a nice hot shower to cleanse him of his sins. it felt good having the hot water running down his body. but, oh how he wished it was y/n’s hands touching him instead.

he washed up using his favorite body soap, then washed his hair afterwards.

after he got out and wrapped a towel around his waist, he stared into the foggy mirror. he wiped it so he could view his lip better, bringing his face close to inspect it better. it was swollen and a small slit was in the middle of his bottom lip. it was very noticeable. how was he supposed to hide this? how will he explain this if he was asked? in that moment an idea popped in his head. he’d fake an injury. he grabbed onto the shower curtain, and fell forward causing a loud bang on impact, knocking the wind out of him. the fall caused him to bite down on his lip and bleed some more.

he heard commotion from outside the door, it had to be the girls. a loud knock soon followed right afterwards. jungwon got up and looked at the scene. the shower curtain and rod was on the floor, trails of blood droplets as well. this was brilliant. the perfect cover up. he opened the bathroom door, drawing gasps from the girls. it was a sight to see. jungwon’s sister look petrified, her brother was bleeding from the mouth, and the bathroom was a wreck. “wonnie, oh my god! are you okay? i’m going to call mom. y/n, please help him!” his sister screamed, scattering away to call their mom.

y/n was at a loss for words. on one hand, she was concerned about the boy’s wellbeing. but on the other hand? she couldn’t help but observe him and inspect his every feature. this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to see a wet and bloody, half naked jungwon. his abs were glistening in the bathroom light, water mixed with blood dripping down his chin, his wet hair messily sticking to his forehead. and as bad as it sounds, he looked desirable to her right now.

jungwon’s face grew hot, drawing her out of her trance. she didn't realize how long she had been staring. she immediately took action, grabbing a face towel and wetting it with cold water to clean his busted lip. he winced in pain from the contact. “oh, i’m sorry!” y/n exclaimed.

“it’s fine. i’m fine,” jungwon reassured her as she continued to clean him up. jungwon’s sister came upstairs to let them know their mama won’t be back until later tomorrow morning, she’s working an overnight shift at the hospital tonight. “so it’s just us tonight?” y/n asked and his sister nodded. “yeah, i’m in charge and mom said to just clean the afflicted area and ice it,” she added, handing him an ice pack. he took it and put it on his lip, quickly thanking them both before heading to his room to get dressed and finish with his studies.

after a while, he checked the clock: 10pm. i should probably head to bed soon, he thought. as was getting ready to head to bed, he heard commotion outside his door. he cracked it slightly open and saw y/n standing there, already dressed in her pajamas and heading towards the bathroom. a sinister smile appeared on his face as he quietly tiptoed out his room and walked in the direction of his sister’s room, peaking in. his sister was sound asleep in bed. it was showtime baby. he quietly made his way to the direction of the bathroom, peering into the keyhole as his eyes landed on y/n. he watched as she slid her shorts down and sat on the toilet, his own shorts now growing tight around him. he watched as she wiped herself, pulled her clothes up and washed her hands before he quickly fled back into his room. he couldn’t risk getting caught like this. he closed his door softly and waited for her to pass by. he heard her footsteps creeping down the hallway, but they stopped right in front of his door. he panicked, but didn’t dare to make a sound.

a soft knock was heard from the other side. at first he ignored it, sliding into his bed and under the covers. “jungwon are you awake?” y/n called out to him, but he didn’t respond. he kept quiet, hoping she would leave soon. but then the doorknob jingled, twisting and the door creaked open. jungwon felt his heart pounding. oh no oh no. he thought. she was coming in. he turned his back to the door, feigning sleeplessness. he heard her footsteps come closer to his bedside. the mattress dipped behind him. this cannot be happening right now. this had to be a dream.

he felt her small hand resting upon his arm and her breath dangerously close to his ear. “i know you’re asleep, but today is the first time i’ve actually seen you outside of that nerdy facade you have,” she whispered into his ear. it sent shivers down his spine. he felt her hand snake under his shirt, her fingertips running against his abs. “i’ve never knew such a sweet boy like you was so beautifully built. it has to be from those taekwondo lessons you’ve been taking,” she added, her hands now playing with the hem of his shorts.

his member throbbed painfully, craving so badly to be touched. he couldn’t hold back any longer. he grabbed her hand, causing her to yelp from the sudden action. he turned to face her, examining her facial expressions. they both stared at one another intensely. “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this,” he said, crashing his lips onto hers. it was rough but passionate. he spent so long, longing for this moment and here it finally was. he never believed in miracles until now. their lips danced amongst each other. her hands now snaking around his neck to bring him closer. he wrapped his arms around her waist, flipping himself on top of her. he trailed kissed down her jaw to her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin. he waited so long for this, he wantedㅡ no he needed to leave his mark. he wanted the world to know that he finally bagged y/n after all these years of pining for her. he left so many love bites on her skin before he moved to rid her of her shirt, trailing more kisses down her body. he took one of her breasts into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue gently on her nipple as he squeezed the unoccupied one with his free hand. small whines escaped from her lips, riling him up even more. he alternated between each breast, edging her on before trailing more marks down her abdomen. he licked a small streak down her navel until he reached the hem of her pants.

he paused and looked up at her, a silent glance for any sign of hesitation. she looked down at him, her breath hitching in her throat as she did so. “please wonnie..” she heaved out. a switch flipped inside his head. he didn’t know what came over himself, but he soon stripped her out of her shorts and underwear, teasingly kissing and sucking on her inner thighs. soft moans escaping her lips. “all those years of you teasing me,” jungwon rasped out against her skin. “now look at who's on the other end.” kissing close to her core, but never touching her there, was driving y/n crazy. she never knew there was a dark side to the kid she grew up with. teasing him all those years only for her to end up being the fool.

she wanted him to touch her so bad. “please wonnie, touch me!” she pleaded with him in a whispered yell.

he smirked, “as you wish princess.” he then licked between her flaps, she shivered from the warmth of his tongue on her dripping wet core. he licked up her juices that threatened to leak out. his tongue dancing on her clitoris. the sensation was magical to y/n. she intertwined her fingers into his hair, grabbing chunks of it as she buried his face deeper into his core. she had never felt this way before. it was all new to her as it was to jungwon. despite the fact that they were both virgins, jungwon seemed experienced in this field. he sucked gently on her clit, plunging two fingers into her core. her back arched from the pleasure. he plunged his fingers deep inside her, curling them as he thrusted them. his moves were precise, accurately hitting all the spots she didn’t know she had. yher moans grew louder with each movement, echoing throughout the room, but she didn’t care. it felt too good. how was he so good at this?

he quickened his pace, bringing her closer to her high as her body started shaking, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach and stretching throughout her body. it was exhilarating, her body trembling with every breath she took. she felt his fingers plunge into the depths of her insides, loving the feeling of how he rubbed her sweet spots. “oh wonnie… i’m gonna-,“ her sentence was cut short by a loud whined out moan of pleasure. her body jolting from the overstimulation, feeling his two digits speed increasing as he finger fucked her through her orgasm. she came hard into his mouth, her juices flowing all over his face as he kept his pace, licking up all her delicious juices. her toes curled as she rode out her high. her body shook from the remaining overwhelming pleasure. as she came down from her orgasm, jungwon placed a final kiss on her clit, peering his head up to make eye contact with her. “how was it, princess?” he asked sitting up. he made direct eye contact as he took his two digits and put them in his mouth, licking up the remainder of her juices off his fingers. she watched intensely, her body craving him more. “phenomenal,” she said honestly. she watched as he took off his shirt and then used it to clean her off before helping her get dressed. “you should probably head back. i’m sure my sister is up now from all the commotion,” jungwon teased, smiling widely knowing he had finally fulfilled one of his many fantasies. she nodded in agreement, pushing herself off his bed and wobbling to the door making jungwon laugh. he found it cute that she could barely walk straight just from the head he gave. he felt accomplished with himself.

right before she left she turned to face him, “wonnie, we should do this more often,” she shyly stated and jungwon’s smile held a dark vibe. it both frightened y/n, yet turned her on. she really liked this side of him.

“princess, this is only the beginning of something beautiful,” he said and with that she left his room, shutting the door behind her. when she got back to her best friend’s room, she noticed that she hadn’t woken up at all. guess she wasn’t loud enough after all. and with that she headed straight to bed, not knowing jungwon was once again creeping on her as she slept. you’re finally mine, y/n. he thought as he started at her sleeping through the crack of the door.

TO BE CONTINUED…..

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