#i am screaming for two thousand years
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gingerswagfreckles · 6 days ago
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It's crazy because this isn't the first time this has happened this year but no one ever talks about it no one ever cares. A week or two ago a woman was murdered by having her throat slit in front of her two kids by a guy who screamed "free Palestine" and all the comments on the article were theorizing that it was a false flag attack actually organized by The Jews. A few weeks before that a synagogue was bombed in France by a guy who literally wrapped himself in a Palestine flag as he did it and every single news organization cropped the images so you couldn't see the flag. Several Jewish women have been raped in France "for Palestine" and several other Jews in the country murdered. Some Jews were kidnapped in Australia by "activists." In the US an elderly Jewish man was murdered by protesters months and months ago and absolutely no mainstream news reported on it. A plane in Russia was stormed by a mob looking to find Jews and kill them because they mistakenly thought the plane was landing from Israel. A few days ago in NYC several Jewish men were stabbed in the span of a couple of hours in separate incidents by people screaming "free Palestine" and they're still hospitalized. A terrorist convicted of bombing a synagogue in 1980 and killing four Jews in France is now teaching a social justice class at a Canadian University. There was a crowd chanting "Heil Hitler" at the Israeli athletes at the Olympics while waving Palesfine flags. Students at Columbia University made a chain to block Jewish students from attending their classes. They cornered them in a library and chanted "globalize the intifada." Students at UCLA made their Jewish classmates wear badges to identify which had passed their Good Jew test and could be allowed to pass their mob to attend class. Hate crime numbers around the world have gone up by thousands of percentile points and the increase has been driven almost entirely by LEFTISTS and their crazy insistence that the full blown murder of Jews for being Jewish by terrorist organizations "isn't antisemitism" but is in fact a form of "resistance." Against the Jews who secretly control the world. This has been happening for months and months and months and nobody cares and you all just gaslight Jews and tell us we are being hysterical and this is all our fault anyway and now it's normal again to have full blown pogroms in every country in the world where mobs chase down people screaming "Jew! Jew!" to try to kill them and you are STILL. ALL. JUSTIFYING IT. You guys have become literal full blown Nazis and I am not exaggerating in the slightest. Nazism has been normalized again and it hasn't been normalized by the right, it has been normalized by the left through your desperate desire to roleplay a Huger Games type revolution against a tiny minority group who can't hurt you back.
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heron-knight · 26 days ago
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decided to crack open my skull and pour the contents of my brain onto the keyboard. thought the denizens of tumblr might enjoy it. bon appetite
Mech Pilot Care guide
You never expect it, do you. Even as you see the flashes of pulse-decay fire in the sky, illuminating a scene of violence on the cosmic scale. Planetary defense satellites forming Monolithic structures in the sky, their purpose now revealed as they scatter constellations of destruction across the night horizon, drowning out the stars and replacing them with ones born of death. The oxygen in a ship catching fire and burning away in an instant, a flash of light that marks the death of its crew of hundreds. Even if you take your telescope to watch this spectacle, this war in a place without screams, you still feel profoundly disconnected from it. Even as you see a pilot cleave through a drone hive with a fusion blade, the molten metal glistening in the light of the explosions around it, scattering without gravity to the corners of the universe, even as two mechs dance across the sky, their reactors pouring into the engines enough energy to power the house atop which you sit for ten thousand years, flying in a 3.5 dimensional dance with only one word to the song that can reach across the vacuum: “I Will Kill You.” you don’t feel even the slightest glimpse of what goes on inside their minds. You don’t feel the neurological feedback tearing across the brain-computer interface, filling her mind with more simultaneous pain and elation that an unmodified human could ever experience. You don’t feel it as the pneumatic lance punctures through steel and nanocarbon polymer, the mech AI sending floods of a sensation you could never truly know through the skull and into every corner of the body carried on enhanced nerves for every layer of armor punctured, tearing into the enemy chassis with a desire beyond anything the flesh can provide. Let the stars kill each other. After all, I am safe on earth. No, you don’t expect it when the star is hit with a sub-relativistic projectile, piercing through both engines in an instant. You don’t expect it to fall. You never would have expected it to land, the impact nearly vaporizing the soil and setting trees aflame, on the hill beyond your house, and you would never have expected, beneath the layers of cooling slag, for the life-support indicator light to still be visible.
All the fire extinguishers in your house, your old plasma cutter that you haven’t used in years, and whatever medical supplies you think they might still be able to benefit from. All that on a hoverbike, speeding at 120 kilometers per hour through the valley and up onto the hill, still illuminated by the battle above, unsurprisingly unchanged by this new development. 200 meters. 100 meters. You don’t know how much time you’ve got. It wasn’t exactly covered in school, how long a pilot can survive in an overheating frame. You’ve heard rumors, of course, of what these things that used to be human have become. That they don’t eat and barely need air. That they don’t feel any desire beyond what instructions are pumped directly into their brains. Not so much of a person as much as an attack dog. It’s understandably a bit concerning, as if they are alive, then it’s not guaranteed that you will be. Three fire extinguishers later, the surface of the mech is mostly solid, and the cutter slices through the exterior plating. With a satisfying crunch, the cockpit is forced open, revealing the pilot, and confirming a few of the rumors, while refuting others. Pilots, it seems, are not quite emotionless. In fact, there seems to be genuine fear on its face when it sees you, followed by… a sort of grim certainty as it opens its mouth, moves its jaw into a strange position, and you only have half a second to react before it would have bitten down with all its force on the tooth that seemed to be made of a different material then all the rest.
Your thumb is definitely bleeding, and is caught between a metamaterial-based dental implant, and one containing a military-grade neurotoxin. You’re not sure exactly why you did it. The pilot looks at you for a second, before the tubes that attach to its arms like puppet strings run out of stimulants, and it passes out after who knows how long without sleep. This battle has been going on for weeks already. Has it been fighting that long? Its various frame-tethered implants disconnect easily, the unconscious pilot draped over your shoulder twitching slightly with each one you remove. It’s a much longer ride back to the house. Avoiding having the pilot fall off the bike is the top priority, and the injured thumb stings in the fast-moving air. 
An internet search doesn’t lead to many helpful sources to the question of “there is a mech pilot on my couch, what do I do?” a few articles about how easy targets retired pilots are for the “doll sellers,” a few military recruitment ads, and a couple near-incomprehensible legal documents full of words like “proprietary technology” or “instant termination.” However, there is one link, a few rows down from the top-- “Mech Pilot Care Guide.” It’s a detailed list, arranged in numbered steps. The website has no other links on it, just the step-by-step instructions: a quick read reveals that this isn’t going to be easy, but looking at the unconscious pilot, unabsorbed chemicals dripping from the ports in its arms and head onto the mildly bloodstained towel, you come to the conclusion that there’s no other option.
Step one: the first 24 hours.
The first thing you should know is that pilots aren’t used to sleeping. They’re used to being put under for transport and storage, but after the neural augmentations and years of week-long battles sustained by stimulants that would fry the brain of anyone that still has an intact one, they’ve more or less forgotten what real sleep is. If they see you asleep, they’ll think you’re dead, so don’t try to let them stay in your room yet. Once you’ve removed the neurotoxin from the tooth (it breaks easily with a bit of applied pressure, but be careful not to let any fall into their mouth or onto your skin.), start by moving them into a chair (preferably a recliner or gaming chair, as the mech seat is about halfway in between), and putting a heavy blanket over them. Don’t worry, they don’t need as much air as normal humans do, and can handle high temperatures up to a point. This is an environment similar to the one they’re used to. It’ll stay like this for about 12 hours-- barely breathing, trembling slightly underneath the blanket. Feel free to check if it’s alive every few hours, not that you could help it if it wasn’t. It won’t freak out when it wakes up. In fact, it doesn’t seem like they can. Turn down the lights and remove the blanket from its face. It’ll stare blankly at you, trying to evaluate the situation with a brain that’s not connected to a computer that’s bigger than they are anymore. Coming to terms, if you could call it that, with the fact that it isn’t dead. Don’t expect it to start reacting to things for a while yet, give it a couple hours. 
It’s been a bit, and its eyes are starting to focus on you. The next thing you should know is this: pilots only have two groups into which they can categorize non-pilots: handler and enemy. You need to work on making sure you’re in the right one. Move slowly, standing up and walking toward them, making sure they can see where you’re going to step. Place both hands on their shoulders, then slide one under their arm and carefully pick them up. Don’t be startled by how light they are, or how they still shake slightly as they realize their arms don’t have anything connected to them. Most importantly, don’t break. Don’t reflect on how something can be done to a person so that this is all that’s left. Just focus on rotating them as if you’re inspecting all the brain-computer interface ports, while holding them at half an arm’s length. Set them back down, wrap the blanket around them, then lean in close and say “status report.” they won’t say anything, as they usually upload the data via interface, but what’s important is that now they recognise you as their handler. Their entire mind will be focused on the fact that they exist now to do what you want. Now it’s up to you to prove them wrong.
Step two: the first week.
They’re shaking so hard that you’ve had to move them from the chair back to the couch, sweating heavily as they pant like the dog they’ve been trained to think they are. This was to be expected, really. Pilots are constantly being filled with a mix of stimulants, painkillers, and who knows what else, and you’ve just cut them off completely. You’ve woken up several times in the night and rushed to check if they’re still breathing, debating whether you should try to tell them that they’re going to be okay. The guide says they’re not ready for that yet, whatever that means. They’re still wearing the suit you found them in, made from nanofiber mesh and apparently recycling nutrients and water before re-infusing them intravenously. It’s been three days since you tore them out of the lump of metal atop the hill outside. Long enough that the suit’s battery, apparently, has run out. You lift them gently from the couch and carry them to the bathroom. The shower’s been on for the past hour or so, meaning the temperature should be high enough. You set them on their chair, which you’ve rolled there from the living room and covered with a towel. Removing the suit normally isn’t done except in between missions, and it’s only done to exchange it for a new one. Without the proper tools, you’ve opted for a pair of scissors. Cutting through the suit takes a bit of time, but you manage to cut a sizable line from the neck down to the front to the bottom of the torso. The pilot recoils slightly from the cold metal against their skin, but you manage to peel off the suit without incident, The Temperature of which was roughly the same as the steam filling the room, and you’ve done your best to minimize air currents. They’ve got a bit more shape to them than you expected of someone who’s been so heavily modified. Perhaps what little fat storage it provides helps on longer missions, or perhaps this is for the purposes of marketing. Just another recruitment ad that appeals to baser instincts. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Using a cloth with the least noticeable texture possible, you wash off as much sweat and dead skin as you can, avoiding the various interface and IV ports, as you’re not yet sure that they’re waterproof. Embarrassment is the enemy of efficiency, so you’re slightly glad that their eyes never completely focus on you. They shift their weight slightly, however. Despite the difficulty moving with their current symptoms, they lean in the direction opposite the places you wash once you're done, allowing you to more easily access the places you haven’t got to yet. An act of trust that you have a suspicion they weren't “programmed” to do.  As they dry out, you prepare for the difficult part. You take the blanket that previously wrapped around their suit, and gently touch a corner of it to their shoulder. Pilots are used to an amount of sensory  information that would overload any normal human in an instant, but most rarely experience textures against their skin. After about half an hour, they’re used to it enough that you’re able to replace what’s left of the suit with it, and after another you’re able to wrap them in it again. You carry them back to the couch, and place a few of your old shirts next to their hand. They pick one and touch it with one finger before recoiling slightly. Eventually, they’ll be used to at least one of them enough that they can wear it. It’s slow progress, but it’s progress.
Step 3: food
It goes without saying that it’s usually been at least a year since they’ve eaten anything. The augmentations scooped out much of their knowledge on how to survive as a human, assuming that they would die before ever needing to be one again. Start them off with just flavors. Give them a chance to pick favorites by giving them a wide selection and firmly telling them to try all of them. Avoid anything solid for the first month or so, both because they can’t digest it and because they associate chewing with their self-destruct mechanism. Trying to and surviving might make them think the “mission’s fully compromised” and attempt to improvise. They’ll typically pick out favorites quickly with their enhanced senses, so once they’ve sampled everything, tell them to pick one. Remember it, not in order to use it as a reward or anything, but them still being able to have a “favorite” anything is something you should keep in mind for later. 
Use a similar method anytime they become able to handle the next level of solidity. Don’t be alarmed if one of their favorite foods is the meat that’s most similar to humans (such as pork.) they’re not going to eat you, they just will have already formed an association between that flavor and the moment they went from being a weapon to living in your house. Don’t worry about your thumb getting infected, by the way. Pilots barely have a microbiome.
Step 4: entertainment:
Roll them over to your computer and give them access to your game library. No, really. They need enrichment, and there’s only one activity that they’re able to enjoy at the moment. A simulation of it will make the shift from weapon to guest easier. Start them off with an FPS with a story. Don’t go multiplayer, as your account may get banned for being suspected of using aimbots. Watch as they progress the story. The military left pilots with just enough of a personality to allow them to improvise, and that should be enough for them to make decisions on this level. They won’t do much character customization, but keep an eye on which starting character body shape they pick. No pilot would consciously think they have enough of a “Self” to still have a gender, but keep track of the ones they pick in the games. As for the one you’ve found, it appears that she’s got a player-character preference. You even saw her nudge one of the appearance sliders before clicking “start game.” Whether this means that a pilot doesn’t think of themselves as “it” or that it means there’s still enough of their mind left for them to know there’s more to themselves than the body they have, it’s a handy bit of information to know. Some pilots might have had this decision influenced by their handlers having referred to them as “she” in the way it refers to boats, but still, on some level they always know that “it” meant that they’re a weapon. 
Step 6: outside:
There’s a profound difference between experiencing the world through information fed directly into your brain and standing up for the first time, wandering around the room and investigating with hands not made of a half-ton of metal. She’s not used to feeling the air on her skin as she stands in front of the window, visual data coming from two eyes instead of seven cameras. It’ll take a while to get used to it again. New old data, reminiscent of a time before she’s been trained not to remember. It’ll take a while until she’s walking like a human and not a mech, as the muscles used are different, and the ones to hold herself upright haven’t been used in a while. She’s going to fall down at least once. Be sure you’re standing next to her when it happens, as pilots that fall aren’t trained to think they can get back up. It’s worth it, though, when she opens the door herself and strides into the yard, still wobbly but standing. Be careful not to let her look into the sun, partially because it looks nearly identical to the barrel of a pulse-decay blaster milliseconds before it fires. She would get hurt trying to dodge it. It will be somewhat confusing for her, standing on a hill as she once did, but not contained within a 12-meter metal chassis. A feeling of being small and alone without the voices of the computer. This means it’s time for step seven.
Step 7: 
All this time, and any idea that she’s still a person has, for her, been subconscious. Any thought of humanity is stopped when it slams into the wall of her handlers and mech AIs reminding her for years before now that she is a weapon. She’ll still ask for your permission before doing just about anything, and that’s just the rare times that she’ll do something you don’t tell her to. Even after you’ve moved her into your room, she’ll still try to sleep on the floor. She still thinks that beds are only for humans. Kneel next to her as she curls into a ball on the ground, assuming that’s what she’s supposed to do. Expect her to try to move down to the foot of the bed after you set her down on it. Gently move her back up until her head’s on the pillow. Sit on the edge of the bed, and hold out your hand to her. After a bit, she’ll take it, wrapping both hands around it and tracing her fingers along the scar on your thumb. Lie down next to her, an arm’s length apart. Place your other hand on her forearm, then slide it up her arm to her shoulder. Don’t move too quickly, and don’t surprise her. Whisper softly but audibly every movement you’re going to make in advance. Move in a bit closer, until you’re wrapped in her arms. Mech pilots aren’t used to this. They aren't used to feeling someone next to them. Not above them, but next to them, getting exactly as much out of this as they are. Even after several months, many won’t admit they deserve it. You wouldn’t waste time lying next to a gun. So why do they feel so strongly that they don’t want you to leave? Why do they hold on tighter? They often feel they’re doing something wrong. Overstepping a boundary. There’s a rift between what they want and what they’re told they can want that nearly tears their mind in half, and it hurts. No normal human will ever know how much it hurts them to think they’ve broken some instruction, that they feel things they aren’t allowed to. Nobody said it was easy, learning how to become human again. Tell her it’s okay. That she’s allowed to feel this way. She still won’t know why. It’s time to tell her. The guide can’t tell you what to say, only that you have to say it. It has to come from you. You have to be the one that tells her what she is underneath all the modifications. It’s time, say it.
“Do you feel that? Do you feel your heart start to beat faster as it presses up against mine? Do you feel your own breath against your skin after it reflects off my shoulder? Do you feel your muscles start to tighten as I slide my hand across them, then relax because you know it means that you are safe? It’s because you’re alive. Because despite everything, you’re still alive. Still someone left after all the changes, all the augmentations. And I know you’re someone because you are someone that likes food a bit spicier than most would prefer. Someone that closes her eyes and gets lost in music whenever it’s playing. Someone that added that one piece of customization to her character, even though they would wear a helmet for most of the game and nobody would know it was there but you. Maybe you aren’t the same person you were before. Maybe they did take some things from you that nothing can give back. But you’re still someone. Someone that people can still care about, and I know because I do.”
You can feel her tears drip down onto your neck as she pulls you closer. She tries to say something, but you can’t understand what. You tell her it’s okay. That it’s not easy, and that she doesn’t have to pretend that it is. Not for you, and not for anyone anymore. She doesn’t have to be useful anymore. No need to keep it together. All that matters is that she’s alive. 
There’s another battle going on in the night sky outside. The same flashes of light you saw the night you stopped living alone, even if the other person couldn’t admit that they were one yet. She still flinches at the brighter bursts of pulse-decay fire, still stretches out her hand on reflex to prime a pneumatic lance that isn’t there. But she knows it’s not her, it’s just a ghost of the weapon that died when it hit the ground. You can feel her relax as she realizes this, moving her hand back to dry her face before reaching out towards yours. You hadn’t noticed the tears on your own face. You place your hand on hers as she wipes the corner of your eye. Outside and above, the war continues on a cosmic scale, so far apart from where you both are now that you barely notice it. Let the stars kill each other. After all, the one before you has already fallen, and she doesn’t have to return to the sky. Together, you are safe on earth. 
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DPXDC prompt: Valentine's day spirit. Superbat edition.
When Phantom sets foot on the Justice League base many years later, he expects anything but not Flash pointing finger at him and screaming about "legendary child who made Superbat canon".
~~~~
Being in Metropolis because of a ghost hunt right in the middle of a battle between Lex Luthor and Superman was not the best outcome, especially considering that Jack had his three-year-old son with him. But without such a combination of circumstances, they would never have found out that "Ghost!" "Daddy, no!" Ectoblast that Jack shot at the target of their hunt touches Superman and..really hurts him.
There were two sides to Danny-the ghostbuster's son and the astronerd. It is clear which half of him did not have a chance to win.
Danny threw his space rocket toy aside and grabbed father's arm. In the next second, boy had already sunk his teeth into Jack's fingers, forcing him to drop weapon. Youngling quickly jumped off and picked up ectoblast and then ran towards Superman. "Fly away! I'll hold him!" Danny stood up to try to cover up ghost (or alien?) in case Dad took not one but a whole bunch of shooting things with him again.
Jack: Get away from my son, ghost. Superman: Sir, I'm sure this is some kind of misunderstanding, I'm not a ghost. Jack: Danny, come to me, he's trying to hide his identity and manipulate us. Danny: No. If the heroes are being attacked, then someone must protect them too. Jack: But he's a ghost.. Danny: Alien or ghost is not so important, Daddy. He's in pain, and he's protecting this city, not haunting it. It's wrong to try to catch him for experiments. I forbid you to do that. Jack: Danny, champ, you're wrong.
Lex: Hah, what an interesting substance. Despite the other aggregate state, or rather its absence, it is so similar to kryptonite. Superman: Lex, is this a portable lab? Now is not the time, in case you haven't noticed. Lex: There is always time for science. I think my colleague will agree, right? "Similar to kryptonite?" Jack muttered to himself.
Jack: So Superman wasn't my target. And we are not colleagues. There is only one insanely rich man with questionable moral values with whom I am ready to do work, and your surname is clearly not Masters. Lex: It's a pity, but still, if you want to carry out the delivery of your wonderful weapons or exchange experiences, then call this number. Luther quickly shoves a business card into Fenton's hand. Jack*throws it away*: Come on, son, let's go back to the hotel, you've skinned your knees.
~~~The Evening. The Roof of the mentioned hotel~~~
"My friend Sam is also very frightening. And she also likes dark.“ The boy paused for a minute of thinking. “You want to kiss your goth friend?" "W-What makes you think that, kid. We’re colleagues, I respect him very much and.." "So you want to. It’s okay, I’d like to kiss Sam too but I’m afraid she’s gonna hit me. You have the same problem?" "It’s a little more complicated for adults." Kal begins to explain but stumbles upon Danny’s completely unimpressed look. Yeah, this boy apparently has heard 'kids would understand when they grow up' lectures at least thousand times. "But you’re basically right."
~~~~
When Batman himself comes to their hotel the next day as a representative of the Justice League to make sure that Mr. Fenton has no desire to harm Superman in the future and to tell that Superman is not going to press charges because of the ectoblast that injured him, Danny refuses to leave the room.
Jack: Oh, Danny, I thought you dropped your space rocket yesterday, it's a good that Alicia's Christmas present isn't lost. Danny: Well, dad, I left it on the roof of a bad bad man, yeah, but Uncle Kal returned it last night and we talked for a while. Jack: About what? Space, my little star? *Father immediately assumes that Danny would like to ask about everything real alien*. Boy*blushes and shakes his head negatively*: No, not about it.
Jack: Then what it was about? Danny: Secret superhero things. I can't tell you. I agreed to withhold that information as part of a pinky swear. Batman: And what about me, young man? You can tell me, right? Batman couldn't resist talking with such a cute kid. The boy thinks only for a second before hurriedly trying to push his father out of the room. Danny: Dad, come out for a minute and don't eavesdrop. I'll tell you when you can come in. The big man laughingly obeys. Lil child checks the reliability of the closed door and runs up to Batman. Danny: And so, Mr. Batman, first promise not to laugh or hit Uncle Kal. Batman: I promise? Danny: Good. This is very important information. Batman: I'm listening.
Danny: He thinks you're terrifying and wants to kiss you. And since he is afraid that you will hit him for this, I recommended him to appease you with a pie cooked according to his mother's recipe. Well, you know, since you love sweets and his parents' farm has the most wonderful apples in all states. He rarely cooks himself, but he will try for you, so even if he doesn't succeed, pretend that you liked it, please. Batman:...
Batman: Would you like to work in intelligence for the Justice League when you grow up? Danny: Actually, I want to be an astronaut. Batman: Our base is located in space. Danny:
Danny: Hmm, then I'll think about your offer.
Batman: Great. It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Fenton. You can count on a job recommendation from me. Do you want anything as compensation for your consultation? Danny: Actually, yes. Mr. Batman, tell me honestly, are you a bat on a frugivorous diet like Giant golden-crowned flying fox or you are a Vampire Bat? Sam says that such a big bat can only be a vegetarian and uncle Kal said your son was more than happy to steal strawberries from his garden with Superboy but..
~~~
Batman tries to behave naturally for a week. However, the sweet tooth inside him still makes him clamp Superman in the corner and question him. "Where the hell are the pies you promised to cook for me, Clark?"
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writemekpop · 2 months ago
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Make Up Sex | Lee Jeno
Summary: You've been hiding a big secret from your husband Jeno. What happens when he finds out?
Genre: Established relationship AU, angsty, suggestive, baby daddy Jeno
Word Count: 1k
A/n: We're baaaaaack! We're sorry it's been a while, so here have some juicy Jeno baby daddy angst xx requests are open!
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It was past midnight when you got home from work. You felt terrible for missing Mac's bedtime for the fifth time this week.
Right now, all you wanted was to curl up in bed next to your husband Jeno and sleep for a year.
You tiptoed into the living room and set your bag down on the sofa. You flicked on the light, and saw Jeno sat at the dining table.
You yelped. "Jeno, what were you doing sitting in the dark?"
Jeno didn't reply. That's when you realised something was off with him. He was sat bolt upright, jaw clenched, hands balled up into fists.
Even though he was sat there in his blue polkadot pyjamas, he looked threatening. His dark hair framed his frown.
You edged closer. "What's the matter?"
Then you saw the bunch of folded letters in his hand. Your heart dropped into your stomach.
"Jeno, I can explain..."
Jeno met your eyes for the first time. His brown eyes were ice cold.
"When were you going to tell me about this?" He spat.
You pulled out the chair next to Jeno and sat down. You put your arm on his shoulder, but he flinched away from your touch.
Jeno shoved a piece of paper into your hands. "This is an offer letter for a job in Argentina."
You gulped.
Jeno flipped through the other letters. "It says here you applied six times." He said. "You applied for a job on the other side of the world six times and you didn't think to tell me about it once?"
You couldn't tell if Jeno looked more angry or just hurt.
"I was going to tell you..."
Jeno scoffed. "When? From the plane? Or were you just going to call me from... Rio or whatever the fuck the capital of Argentina is."
"I didn't think I'd actually get in..."
Jeno rolled his eyes.
You frowned. "You know, this is actually a really big deal. This is one of the most prestigious jobs in the world for a conservation biologist. Why can't you just be proud of me?"
Jeno stood up, the chair screaming against the wooden floor. He bowed dramatically.
"Congratulations, Y/n."
Tears pricked your eyes. "You don't have to be sarcastic."
Jeno stormed out of the living room, slamming the door.
You winced, tiptoeing behind him. "Shh, you'll wake Mac!" You eyed the door to the nursery, which was ajar.
"So now you remember we have a son! Are you just going to deprive your toddler of his mother for a whole year?"
"It's actually a two year programme..." you said, eyeing the carpet.
Jeno tugged his hand through his hair. "Well that's just perfect."
You followed Jeno into the bedroom.
"You know, Y/n. Normal people have affairs. They don't sneak off behind their partner's back and get a job a thousand miles away."
You slumped onto the bed, sighing. "Jeno, I just feel like I'm wasting away at my current job. I know I was made for some thing bigger. The project I'll be working on is to create an entirely new source of green energy. We could change the world."
Jeno sat down beside you on the bed. "I didn't know you hated your job."
You edged closer to Jeno, closing the gap between you and him on the bed. You tentatively touched his arm. He didn't push you away this time.
You traced your fingers up his biceps, across his neck and settled on his cheek. Jeno shut his eyes and leaned his face into your hand.
You looked as his dark eyelashes, and his plump lips. You just wanted to kiss his pain away.
Jeno kept his eyes squeezed shut as he spoke. "To me, you and Mac are my whole world. Are we not enough for you?" His voice cracked. "Am I not enough for you?"
You gulped. You knew what the answer was, but somehow, the words wouldn't come out.
You held Jeno's face in your hands. Then you leaned forwards and kissed him, hard.
Jeno grunted in surprise, but he quickly started to kiss you back. His large hands found your waist, and he pulled you onto his lap, so that you were straddling him.
You drank up Jeno's taste, the faint peach scent of his shampoo, the feel of his hard body underneath you.
You broke the kiss for a second, and pullled your shirt off. You unclasped your bra. The look in your husband's eyes was close to feral.
You were used to slow and gentle love making, with lots of soft smiles and giggles. This was completely different. Your entire body felt alight.
Jeno yanked off his own top. You eyed his muscled body, mouth watering. He picked you up in one arm and dropped you on the centre of the bed. He lay himself on top of you.
You kissed his neck whilst he took off the rest of your clothes.
Jeno dived between your legs, making you gasp.
--
After, you lay with your head on Jeno's chest. You were both still naked. The rhythmic thumping of Jeno's heart calmed your haywire nerves.
After a while of comfortable silence, Jeno cleared his throat.
"We're going to have to get Mac some sunglasses, for when we come down to visit. I hear it's pretty sunny in Argentina."
You shot up and turned to look at Jeno. His dark fringe was coveirng his eyes, and his cheeks were flushed.
"You're okay with me going?" You exclaimed.
Jeno sat up too. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug.
"You should have told me sooner," Jeno said. "But... of course I'm happy for you. I always knew you were going to change the world. I'm sorry about how I reacted."
You couldn't stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. You buried your head in his shoulder and cried.
"I love you," you said, between sobs. "I'm sorry for keeping this from you."
Jeno wiped your tears away with his thumbs. He smiled. "Has anyone told you you're an ugly crier?"
You snorted. Jeno started to laugh, which made you laugh too. The tension in the room melted away, leaving only love.
You ran a finger down the centre of Jeno's chest, making him shudder with pleasure.
Jeno pulled the blanket over you both. "Two years isn't that long, when you think about it. Not when we've got forever."
"You helpless romantic, you..."
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
MAIN MASTERLIST
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peppermintquartz · 4 months ago
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NOW ON AO3
--
Eddie and Buck come through the door of Buck's loft together in a fit of giggles, still high over Chimney's expression being spat on by an alpaca, when they see Tommy sitting alone on the floor, pressed to a corner where he is staring out the window.
"Tommy?" Buck says, delighted and about to head over, when Eddie slaps a hand to Buck's chest. "What?"
Eddie's eyes narrow. There's nothing overtly odd, but there was something strange yet familiar about Tommy's expression and position.
"Buck, go make coffee."
"Eddie it's 9pm," Buck protests.
"Make. Coffee. And don't come over until I call you," Eddie doesn't mean to put on his Dad voice, but it works on Buck, and as Buck heads to the kitchen, Eddie goes to Tommy.
Thousand yard stare. Left hand clenched over the right wrist. Jaw set.
There is a knife in his right hand.
"Kinard, you okay there?" Eddie asks softly.
Tommy's gaze flickers and he looks at Eddie, a small frown creasing his brow. "I don't know."
"You know where you are?"
"Evan's place." He frowns more deeply. "I heard screams. Explosions."
Eddie sits down. He can hear the coffee machine going and Buck is probably hovering, waiting for Eddie's signal.
"When did you hear the sounds?"
"I don't know. I was... I was in my car, heading home. And then next thing I know I was... I heard screaming, and I drove here, and all I could think of was Evan. I had to get to Evan." Tommy blinks rapidly and his breathing picks up. "Where is-"
"Buck, come here," Eddie calls out.
Buck practically dashes over and kneels down next to his boyfriend. "Tommy."
"Evan," Tommy breathes out, and as if a string is cut, his rigid posture goes slack. "You're safe. You're safe."
Eddie exhales too. "Tommy, drop the knife."
"Knife?" Tommy looks at his hands and instantly relaxes his grip. The knife falls the short distance with a thud. Eddie reaches over and picks it up. A folding utility knife. Something Tommy would have in his car. "I didn't... Did I hurt anyone?"
"No," Eddie says with a tiny smile, patting his friend on the knee.
Beside him, Buck is swallowing down his thousand and one questions. He touches Tommy's arm tentatively, and is reassured when Tommy pulls him into a one-armed hug.
It could have gone badly, if Buck had run up to Tommy suddenly and unwarily. A knife wound to the gut would be a bad, bad thing, and Tommy would never forgive himself.
Some dark days, Eddie was thankful he had somehow had the presence of mind to lock the door before he fired the shots. If anything had happened to Christopher... He shakes himself out of the sheer horror of the thought.
"I thought... I heard screams," Tommy's telling Buck, "and I knew, I knew we were under attack, we had to find cover, but I needed to find you. I needed to make sure you were safe."
Buck kisses him on the forehead, then on the mouth, twice. "I am safe. We all are."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Either of you."
Eddie stands. "I think we all need some coffee."
-
Eddie and Tommy are sitting at the table, picking at what's left of the nacho chips, while Buck has been persuaded to go take a shower.
"You seeing someone about that?" Eddie asks.
"Used to." Tommy smiles grimly. "It was... It was really bad at first, when I just came back, but it's been... Shit, it's been a year and half? two years? since the last one."
"Auditory hallucinations."
"Explosions and screaming. There were... It was an accident, they told us afterwards. Bad intel. Civilians weren't supposed to be hurt." Tommy snorts. "Bullshit liars, all of them."
"That why you left?"
"Once the tour was done, I was too. I like flying. I don't like killing." Tommy's face is ashen. He looks a decade older with exhaustion. "I like what I've built since."
"I can tell." Eddie sighs and grabs Tommy's wrist, squeezes it once to get his attention. "And before you beat yourself up about the knife, I'm gonna tell you that you had a firm grip on your knife hand." He leans in, catches Tommy's guilt-ridden gaze. "You would not have hurt him. Part of you was keeping yourself in check." He squeezes again when Tommy tries to avert his eyes. "Tommy. You wouldn't have hurt him."
"I might in the future."
"We'll tell him how to manage this, okay? Because... Because he's had to deal with me too. He gets it. He really does."
Closing his eyes, Tommy inhales, holds his breath, and exhales. "Okay."
From the bathroom, Buck calls out, "So you guys done with the heart to heart yet or do I have to stay in here any longer?"
Eddie laughs, and is relieved to see Tommy's face crinkle up in that same warm, familiar grin. We're all gonna be fine.
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fastandcarlos · 5 months ago
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Stolen My Heart : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri
summary: sneaking around the garage was only going to last so long, especially with lando norris lying around
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You wanted to say after so many years you were used to being the baby of McLaren, but truthfully, it never got easier. You loved your job, you loved snapping photos, filming content, and just being around the team…one of them in particular.
You were always promised yourself never to tied down whilst at work, you wanted to remain professional and keep things friendly. But then you met Oscar. The guy who somehow managed to change all of that for you.
What started out as friendly conversation, soon became a little bit more. He’d pull you into a corner when no one was looking and kiss you, or hold against your waist to reassure you whenever you felt that something wasn’t quite going right. You were the one that constantly made him look good, that resulted in thousands of fans losing their minds every time something Oscar-related was posted.
People were used to seeing the two of you together, but as the more time passed, the more Oscar liked to test the waters. Unlike him, you were terrified that if something got out your job would be at risk, you loved Oscar, but you loved working for McLaren too. There were moments when he’d try a little too hard, resulting in you having to be firm with him, pushing him away out of fear.
“Babe, I wouldn’t do this if anyone was around,” Oscar told you as you shot a glare in his direction. Your head shook at him, trying your best to ignore the look of desperation that Oscar stared back at you with.
With one person in particular you’d had a couple of near misses. Lando. The one person you knew would tease you like you could never believe if he found out about your relationship. If Lando ever found out, then you knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the garage found out too.
Lando had his suspicions though. For the past couple of months, he’d noticed how much bigger Oscar’s smile was, or how much more excitable he was for race weekends at the paddock. Every time Lando tried to push and find out what, or who, had caused his new enthusiasm, Oscar would just brush it aside as nothing. Deep down, he wanted to scream out your name, but the urge to protect you always pushed that feeling back down again. However, the more that Oscar pushed him away, the more Lando wanted to pull him right back in again.
It didn’t take long before Lando started to read between the lines more, he’d notice how Oscar would always ask for you to walk and photograph him, how he’d sit up straighter whenever you joined them for a team meeting, or how he’d always compliment your work the most when the two of them were deciding which pictures to post.
Lando opted not to tease Oscar about his findings, knowing that eventually the right time would present itself for him to finally get out of Oscar what he was hoping to here, with maximum satisfaction too. His plan was almost working too until one night Lando went out to find you for some help with a post on his social media, rushing around the paddock to try and find you before the sun set.
“Y/N?” He called out as he noticed a figure that looked like yours, picking up his pace in order to catch up to you. There was only a split second between him arriving and you moving, pushing away at something.
“Hey,” you smiled, straightening out your shirt, glancing at Oscar who stood beside you.
“Am I interrupting something?” Lando quizzed, looking between the two of you, noticing the anxious expressions that you both wore, how uptight you both were stood as you tried to calm your blushing cheeks.
“You are actually,” Oscar suddenly spoke up, leaving you stunned. “I was trying to enjoy the sunset with my girlfriend, is that too much to ask for?”
“Wait…you two are like together properly?” Lando grinned, brushing his hand through his hair. “I always thought the two of you were just crushing, like a pair of teenagers back in school.
“Lando, shut up,” you whispered, desperate for something, someone, to take you away.
“No way!” Lando giggled, pushing against Oscar’s shoulder. Neither of you quite knew what to say or do as Lando jumped around in front of you, unable to hide the wide smile that was on his face.
“Reckon you could go away now?” Oscar quizzed, turning Lando around and pushing him back in the direction that he just came from.
“Well, that’s me sacked in the morning,” you sighed, feeling an arm drape across your shoulders as Oscar pulled you in tightly against his side.
“He’s Lando, he’s only messing with us,” Oscar tried his best to reassure you, pulling you close enough to kiss against the top of your head.
“But what if-“ you began, only to find yourself cut off by Oscar pressing a kiss against your lips, cupping either side of your face to keep your eyes firmly on him.
“I won’t let it happen, there’s no chance. Plus, you’re crazy if you think Zak will ever want to get rid of anyone as talented as you,” Oscar spoke, trying his best to reassure you.
“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, unable to clear the thought from your mind, filled with fear that this was the end of something. Your career. Or Oscar.
“I love you, it’s going to be alright,” Oscar calmly responded.
"But what if-" Before you had the chance to protest, he pressed yet another kiss against your lips, keeping you there for a few moments longer. It was a dangerous game with so many people passing by, but at this point, Oscar simply didn’t care.
“I know it might sound stupid, but trust me,” Oscar chuckled as he pulled away, “I know Lando, he might seem like a complete idiot…but he only is, partly.”
You took Oscar’s word and for quite a while it seemed to be true. Lando liked to mess with you both every now and then but he never risked properly exposing you both. He had his moments, and you had yours, hitting him or taking an unflattering photo of him any time he tried to reveal your secret. Like with him, Lando knew it was only a matter of time before you accidentally revealed yourselves to everyone else too.
As much as he tried to resist you, Oscar knew it was an impossible task. More than anything he wanted to celebrate those victories with you, but instead he had to remain professional, choosing to fist bump you in the paddock, and celebrate properly with you back at the hotel room.
One race when he was on the podium, you could barely contain your excitement, something that one person in particular picked up on in the garage.
“You could try and pretend like you’ve not just watched your boyfriend get P2,” a familiar voice whispered as they came up alongside you. “You’re not playing it very cool.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act in this situation,” you admitted, looking to Lando for a little bit of help to sort yourself out.
“Just say well done to everyone,” Lando instructed, stepping back as he noticed the people in the garage part as Oscar finally returned.
“And to him?” You quizzed, but Lando was already gone, leaving you stranded as Oscar came striding towards you.
A lump ran down your throat as you admired the trophy that was in his hands, suddenly feeling the attention of the whole garage was solely on you.
“I did it,” Oscar chuckled as he showed you the trophy before closing the distance between the two of you with a kiss.
You wanted to push away, remind Oscar of where he was, but he was like an irresistible force. You stood and kissed Oscar back, hearing a few cheers when the two of you pulled away a few moments later.
“Well, well, well,” Lando teased, smiling proudly knowing that you’d finally done what he knew the two of you would do, eventually.
“I’d love to say I’m surprised, but I don’t think anyone really is,” Zak chuckled, leaving you stunned as he threw his arm around Oscar’s shoulder.
“I had no idea!” Andrea called out, leaving everyone in fits of giggles.
“You’ve hardly been subtle, have you both?” Zak grinned, nudging against your side too as he tried to encourage you to smile and relax a little.
You weren’t quite sure what happened for the next couple of hours, between explaining yourself to everyone and celebrating Oscar’s win, you found yourself in a hazy bubble. It was only when the two of you sat out on the pit wall, all alone, hands intertwined with each other, that you took a moment to calm back down again.
“I always told you there was nothing to worry about, didn’t I?” Oscar whispered across to you, noticing you staring down at the track.
You knew deep down you never had to worry, if anyone was going to have your back, it was Oscar. You had completely stolen his heart, everyone around him constantly teased how they didn’t recognise him anymore. He was a changed man, completely besotted and in love with you.
The two of you stayed in a comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying the first time you were able to show each other any real affection and not look over your shoulders out of fear as to who was potentially watching you.
Not only had Oscar found himself winning with you, but what he had achieved on the track felt as good as a win too. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, struggling to believe that the life that he was currently living truly belonged to him.
“I never got to say it back to you earlier,” you hummed, watching as Oscar’s confused eyes looked back at you.
You whispered those three little words across to him, the same three words he had told you earlier that day when trying to comfort him. It was a big deal for you anytime you said it aloud, but with Oscar, you truly did mean it. He made you feel special, cared for, and loved like no one had ever made you feel before. He was one of a kind, in the best possible way.
With your words, Oscar squeezed your hand a little bit tighter as if to silently tell you that he felt the same way. You shuffled closer so that you could rest your head down against his broad shoulder.
“I’d love for someone to take a picture of us right now, but no one is as good as taking photos as you,” Oscar mumbled underneath his breath.
“I could set up a self-timer, find the right angle, make sure we’ve got the right lighting,” you suggested, much to Oscar’s satisfaction.
“That’s a good idea, I always share your photos, so it would be nice to share one of yours to be able to share you with the rest of the world too.”
“You really mean that?”
Oscar nodded back at you straight away, pulling out his phone and handing it across to you. It was something that he’d wanted to do for some time, but now more than ever, he was sure that now was the moment for the two of you.
“Make sure you get my good side,” Oscar joked as you jumped off of the wall and went to set up the photograph for him.
“Babe, all your sides are your good sides!”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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leah-lover · 4 months ago
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Drive to survive. Leah Williamson x F1!Reader
Part 1. Part 2.
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“ Leah, Leah is watching, she is probably scared “ you thought again as you were drifting off. You gathered all your strength, unlocked the steering wheel, and got out of the car. As soon as you stood on the ground you felt dizzy again, but lucky for you a paramedic caught you in time and directed you to an ambulance. You turned your head to where your car is to find the back of it in flames.
You got on the ambulance, they closed the door behind you, you took off your helmet and breathed real air for the first time. With that breath all the adrenaline came rushing again to your brain. “ Silverstone is done, you lost any real chance at winning this year, your career in F1 might be over.” you thought. This provoked you to have a panic attack.
“ Ma'am it's going to be okay. You survived the crash and it seems like you don't have any dangerous injuries.” Said the paramedic in an effort to calm you down.
When you got to the hospital, you were rushed to a room. A nurse helped you take off your race suit and replace it with a hospital gown. When the doctor came, he did a few tests and informed the members of your team that were now in the hospital with you that you only had a concussion and that all you needed was rest.
You hadn't talked yet. Your mind kept on going to the aftermath of the crash. If you hadn't been so deeply in love with Leah you would have burned in the fire.
“ Where is Leah?” You ask your assistant.
“ She is in the hotel, she left the garage after the crash.” She replied.
“ I want her here.” You demanded.
“ Okay.” She said as she stepped out to call for her.
You waited for about 30 minutes until you heard a knock on the door. She was wearing the same white suit she did in the paddock. Her eyes were puffy and red and there was clear evidence of crying on her face. As soon as you two made eye contact she ran to kiss you. The kiss was passionate, soft, sweet and needy. It resembled the kisses you saw in movies. As you two kissed you felt a tear on your cheek. The tear was hers.” Hey I am fine. I only have a concussion. I survived.” You say as your fingers wipe the tears from her face.
“ You crashed and screamed for help on the radio, then there was fire and you didn't get out.” she said with her voice broken.
“ You know what got me out. It was you. As soon as I thought of you I got out. You saved me Leah.” You replied.
Leah continued to cry as you held her. You whispered how much you loved her in her ear as she layed on your chest.
You stayed in the hospital overnight for monitoring and so did she. And the next day you went to your house.
You were in your bed watching yourself getting out of a burning car on the news when you were writing your statement to the press. Once you were done you called your parents and texted your friends and your team confirming that you were okay.
“ An omelet, avocado and toast, some fruit and coffee.” Said Leah as she entered the bedroom with a plate full of food.
“ I thought you couldn't cook.”
“ I didn't make this but it looks delicious.”
You two had breakfast together and watched the news.
“ I think I might quit.” You said.
“ You can't.” Answered leah. “ What you went through is traumatic, and it will take a long time for you to recover from it. But you need to push through. This is everything you wanted and worked for. you need to keep going not only for you but for the thousands of girls looking up to you. And yes I know that I will always be scared when you enter that car but I know that that is something you love and I will learn to love it too.”
“This is why I fell in love with you.” You said jokingly.
“ I thought you said my fingers were the reason you fell in love with me.”
“ No, it's your strap.”
“ Speaking of strap, I think it's time for a reward since you escaped death for me.”.
“ I love you.”
“ I love you too.”
—----------
25 days later.
“ Italy, home of Ferrari, but this year they are not the main thing the media is talking about. This year the woman who walked away from fire is the center of all the media attention. She is back and ready to have another go at winning her first race. She has talked about the highs and lows of her coming back journey and the difficulties she found in driving that Mercedes car again. But she has worked her way through it all. The number six is now written on her car, on her helmet, and on her tracksuit. We do not know what it means but she said it is the reason she is driving again. Stay tuned for what could be a historic race.”
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seunmong-in · 8 months ago
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🌅Sunsets in Sydney🌅
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Genre: Fluff, childhood best friend to lovers, Idol! Felix x Reader, Humor, slight cursing, she fell first but he fell harder. 
Words: 2.1k 
Summary: After being on tour for a whole year, Felix is finally back in Sydney for a well-deserved break. While he is ecstatic to be with his family again, there’s one person who he wants to see most. His childhood best friend and crush, Y/N. 
A/n: Okay, can I start this off by saying, Holy crap… Thank you to all who like or reblogged my first fanfic with Han!! ( click his name if you wanna read it ! ) I honestly thought it wasn’t that good since I wrote it in a very sleep-deprived state, lol. But y’all proved me wrong🥹❤️‍🩹 That said, I hope you guys also like this story with Felix! Like always, if you have any feedback or want to make a special request just DM me!! Here’s also my latest one with Seungmin as well 🫶🏼
P.S Does anyone else have “that’s not very nice” stuck in their head too?
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘
365 days. 
That's how long Felix has been away from the place he calls home. And no, he doesn't mean his actual home back in Sydney. He means being away from his childhood best friend, Y/n. 
Felix and Y/n have been best friends since grade school. They have always been there for each other, from performing in talent shows to caring for each other when one falls ill. They are like two peas in a pod; wherever one goes, the other is sure to follow.
On the day Felix had to tell Y/n that he was leaving Sydney to become an idol in Korea, he broke down crying. He was worried that being thousands of miles away from his closest friend would strain their relationship. As he was about to board the plane, he turned around to see Y/n waving goodbye to him with tears streaming down her face, and he couldn't help but cry, too.
Surprisingly, Felix and Y/n's friendship didn't end after that day. Instead, their bond grew even stronger. Y/N would constantly update Felix through text or calls, sharing the details of her day and making sure he didn't miss out on anything important. While Felix enjoyed receiving these updates, what he loved most was the pictures his mom would send him of Y/n with his family on small family trips. Seeing her smile and taking selfies with his sisters always warmed his heart.
He had already surpassed the stage of simply developing feelings for Y/n. Felix adored her. He loved her. Whenever he watched a video of a couple on TikTok or Instagram, he imagined how to recreate the same videos with Y/n by his side. His heart skipped when Y/n surprised him at one of his earlier concerts with Olivia and Hannah, Chan's sister. The memory of her dancing his part of God's Menu while Hannah danced Chan's part on the big screen was something he would never forget. Since that night, Felix had been planning to confess his love to Y/n, and he decided to do it under the sunset in Sydney.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽
Under the hot summer sun, Felix's freckled face is lit up with a big smile as his family rushes to greet him. Olivia is the first to embrace him, screaming, "Oh my God, do you even know how I miss you, Lix?!"
Felix laughed, embracing his youngest sister and repeating, "I miss you more." He noticed that Olivia had grown a bit since the last time he saw her and that her hair was now dyed at the ends. Noticing her brother staring at her hair, Olivia mentioned that Y/N did it a few days ago at one of their usual girls' nights. His mom and dad were the next two to hug him tightly, with his mom shedding a few happy tears.
"I say this every time, but I am so happy to have my baby back home."
Felix wraps his arms around his mom, hugging her as he says, "I am happy to be back home to Mom."
Felix was sitting in the back of a car, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Y/n. He was waiting for her message, asking if he had reached home safely, but he had yet to receive any message from her. Although this was unusual, he assumed she might be busy.
Suddenly, Olivia abruptly interrupts Felix's train of thought, "So, are you finally going to ask Y/n to be your girlfriend while you're here, or are we still sticking to the whole 'she's just my best friend' excuse?" The unexpected question catches Felix off guard. His face turns red with embarrassment as his mother turns her head around from the passenger seat, waiting for a response.
Avoiding eye contact with his mother and sister, Felix clears his throat, allowing himself to find the right words.
"Um.. what makes you think I even have feelings for her?"
Olivia stares at her older brother, scolding him with his earlier response, "Felix be so fucking for real right now. It's obvious you have feelings for Y/n. You look at her as if she is your whole world, your face lights up with a smile whenever she texts you, and you always seem to find a way to talk about her when we talk on the phone. If that doesn't scream, "I am in love with my best friend," then I don't know what does. Oh, and before you go and argue with me about this, even the boys agree that you are completely strung up on her. So do us all a favor and tell her how you feel, will you?"
Felix sighs as he looks up to see his sister's gaze. He knew he had to come clean now before his plans got ruined. 
"Have I mentioned how much I dislike you sometimes, Liv?"
"Yeah, but I'm your favorite sister, so start spilling before I call Hyunjin and have him tell Y/n to you." 
During the last five minutes of their car ride, Felix confided in his family about his plan to ask Y/n out when they reached the house. He made them promise not to say anything to Y/n about his plan since he wanted to create a memorable and private moment between them.
As Felix's father pulled into the driveway, Felix noticed Y/n's car parked across the street. His heart raced as he jumped out of the car, ignoring his mother's yelling about not going inside yet. 
Felix barges through the main door and stops when he sees the handmade "Welcome Home Lixie" banner that Y/n was struggling to put up. He chuckles softly and leans by the living room doorway, watching as she gets on her tiptoes to hook the string onto the nail.
"You know, I could've helped you put up the banner, sunshine if you would've waited a little longer."
Y/n turns around to find Felix smirking. Blushing, she runs to him and hugs him. He hugs her back, lifting her up and spinning her around.
Trying not to cry on his shoulders, Y/n ever so softly whispers, "You have no idea how much I missed your hugs, Lix."
"Me too, sunshine, it's been way too long."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘
After returning home and having dinner early, Felix went upstairs to his room. There, he discovered a welcome-home basket in the center of his bed. The basket contained his favorite candies, face masks, a small chicken plushie, and gift cards to his preferred places. Felix smiled, realizing that it was a gift from Y/n. She was always the type to spoil others with gifts, even if it was a small occasion. Looking through the gifts in the basket, he heard a soft knock on the door, and Y/n walked in. When Felix looked up at her, they locked eyes for the second time that day. Time seemed to come to a standstill, and after a while, Y/n was the first to break the silence.
"I hope you like it; I saw it on Tiktok late last night and thought I should make you one."
"I love it a lot; thank you, sunshine." 
He gives her a soft smile and motions for her to sit with him on the bed. She walks over and sits beside him, watching him unwrap more gifts. Y/n can't help but laugh as Felix brings the chicken plushie up to his face, jokingly asking, "Do you think it looks like me?"
"As much as I want to say yes, I feel like I am going betray BbokAri, so I must lie and say no."
Felix and Y/n laugh as Felix places the plushie back on the shelf behind him. The room lights up in a golden hue, indicating the sun is about to set. Without wasting more time, Felix takes Y/n's hand and leads her out of his room and towards his car.
"Lix, what are you doing? Where are we going?"
"I was hoping we could watch the sunset together again, just like we did as kids. It's been quite some time since the last time we did, and let's face it, we're not getting any younger. Before we know it, we'll be as old as old man Chan."
""I'm going to tell him you said that," she says, laughing as she follows him to his car. They both jump in and drive to the nearby beach.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘
As the car pulled onto the sandy shore, Felix practically flew out of his side to open the door for Y/n. She beamed with delight as she stepped out, feeling the warm sand under her toes. Felix swiftly closed the car door and took her hand, leading her towards the beach. The sky was ablaze with a breathtaking display of pink and orange hues as the sun descended below the horizon.
"I forgot how pretty the sunset could be when you can see the reflection on the water."
"I know, but it's even prettier with you beside me," Felix responds. 
Y/n stands before Felix, unsure if he is joking or serious. He chuckles as she becomes flustered.
"You know that's not very nice."
"What isn't sunshine?"
"You saying that to me and not explaining what you mean," Y/n states as she turns away from him. 
Felix grabs Y/n by her waist and spins her, holding her close. Y/n's face flushes a deep shade of pink as she catches her breath. They've been close for years, but something feels different about this moment. There's a palpable tension in the air, a feeling of unspoken love that's hard to ignore. Felix looks deep into Y/n's eyes, examining how the sun's warm glow illuminates them. The sound of waves crashing against the shore adds to the moment's magic. Fighting the urge to kiss her immediately, Felix takes a deep breath as he stares into her eyes. 
"Do you remember why I decided to return home for a break instead of staying in the dorms with the boys?" Puzzled by his random question, Y/n nods her head, looking back into his dark brown eyes. 
"Of course I do. It was because you wanted to be with your family since you were homesick, Lix."
"You're right. But there's something important that I need to tell you, something that should've been said from the very beginning. Y/n, I like you. I'm in love with you. I love you so much that it hurts not to have you by my side most days or even to call you mine. The night before I left Sydney, I intended to confess my feelings to you, but I knew it was bad timing since I was leaving, and I didn't want to end our friendship. So, I kept it to myself for years. However, seeing you with Liv and Hannah at our concert earlier this year, dancing and singing to our songs, made me realize that what I felt for you was more than just a simple grade school crush. Y/n, I'd be lying if I said you weren't the person I want to spend the rest of my life with because I do. I want you to be mine, my only sunshine. And if you don't feel the same way, I understand..."
Felix was toward the end of his sentence when Y/n suddenly cut him off by pressing her lips against his. It was a bold move, but she had been crushing on Felix for what felt like an eternity and couldn't hold back any longer. When they finally pulled away, Felix looked at Y/n with a knowing smile, pressing his forehead on hers. In a very soft voice, Felix finally finishes his sentence. 
"I cannot imagine spending a single day without you by my side anymore. Will you do me the greatest honor of all and be mine forever?
""Until forever stops existing, my love."
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prettiestgrlinthemorguexo · 9 months ago
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Swipe (Lucifer morningstar x reader)
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Description: after his divorce, he finally gets back into the dating game…through a dating app :)
Please note I’m writing this before the release of ep7 and ep8 so-
Takes place between ep 5 and right before ep 6
I wrote nearly 98% of this at like 3 AM-
Part 1 of 3
Warning: Lucifer being a dork, Lucifer being a dorky dad, age gap(reader died at like 25 and Lucifer is like a good few thousands years old so), talk of divorce, Charlie being a supportive daughter, I’ve never used a dating apps so i might get info wrong, Lucifer doesn’t know modern day technology or slang, lying, Lucifer straight up cat fishing reader,
No one’s POV
Lucifer was a wreck after his divorce with Lilith. Becoming the shell of the man he was, going from a family-oriented to a man who barely talk to anyone. After visiting his daughter and her hotel, he knew he had to be there, he already missed so much he wasn’t gonna miss another second of it. Becoming the best father he could also meant moving on, it’s been seven years since the separation. Charlie knew her Dad had been in pain since the divorce but she could tell, he was trying and she was going to be there.
Lucifer’s POV
“Charlie, are you sure about this?” I ask still hesitant, I knew Charlie just wanted to help and had the best intentions, but a dating app?  “Of course!” Charlie exclaimed, face lite up. “It’s perfect! You get to meet people without the face to face interactions!” Charlie said downloading the app, viva by Voxtech.
Charlie’s was more excited than I was, I wanted to meet people but an app? I can’t help but feel my heart race and my body get heavy, why was I this nervous. In the middle of my overthinking Charlie handed me the phone, it had a profile made it had my name and many details. It felt like I was giving it to all 9 rings of hell! “Ok! How we gotta add some photos an-“
“Charlie!”
We both turned are head to see Alastor and Vaggie standing there. “Can you help with something real quick?” Vaggie ask seeming annoyed. “Of course!” Charlie’s called back before as standing up. “You go ahead and add those photos dad I’ll be back!” Charlie said as she ran to the two, leaving me alone on the couch staring at the screen. 
I read over the info and it all was so…personal. How would anyone be comfortable putting this much out? I Don’t get me started with being the King of Hell it’s self, then an idea popped in my head. I turn my head slightly to see Charlie still talking to the pair so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I added photos of my duck inventions and made a duck with a white top hat as my ‘icon’. Now onto the name, Lucifer was too out there everyone would know, think! L names that are similar.
Lucifer..
Luci…
Luc…
Luca..
Luca! I instantly think changing the name quickly, removing the last name from the profile along with it. After that it looked like a normal profile. When I finished and satisfied with it Charlie was walking back over. “Sorry bout that dad! Now back to w-.” While she was speaking I shove my phone in my pocket and stand up. “No it’s fine! I set it up!” I nearly screamed it out as I stood from the couch. Charlie stared at me shock for a moment before her normal bright smile returned to her face. “Wow that’s great!” She said as she walked over “Look at you getting the hang of technology!” Charlie said happily. I didn’t know why I was so nervous by an app, but it was on my mind. After finishing talking to Charlie I was able to leave, soon I was back in my bedroom. I let out a sigh and feel onto the massive bed and pulled out my phone, Viva still open.
Y/N POV
Left..Left..Left..
God this app was a never ending app of swiping left on people wanting hook-ups was tiring. This was the last time I’d take F/N advice and use a dating app, the fact they exist in hell was already surprising. It was nude after nude of people looking for a hookup. Then something different popped up, instead of the naked body I almost have gotten used to, I was greeted by a rubber duck with a white top hat. My eyes widen a bit as I layed there I swipped to look at the second photo, more ducks. I then moved and read the bio. “Luca..” I said quietly to myself reading the short info. I looked at the photos and the bio, it stood out in the sea of profile, i stair a while longer…
…Right.
��CONGRATS! YOU GOT A MATCH!” Popped up on my screen in red shades, with the little duck icon. “…that was quick” I think to myself. I click on the little message option.
Y/N - Hi :)
No ones POV
Lucifer layed there looking at the profiles, this was dating. More like brothel. He could barely understand, after swiping left a few times he chose to just turn off his phone, it was a mistake to think an app could help. Almost as soon as Lucifer sat his phone down his phone went off, illuminating the room …then it went off again.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow picking up his phone to see two notifications, both from Viva. Seeing a match with someone named Y/N and a message from them. Lucifer felt himself lose the ability to breathe, “A match?” Lucifer asked himself, confused on what that meant, he open the Add to be greeted my the words “CONGRATS! YOU GOT A MATCH!” And the icon that belong to Y/N.
The icon was a photo of Y/N. Lucifer’s eyes lit up and he finally let out a breath. He admired their features. Their H/C H/L that looked perfect, their E/C eyes drew him in. He clicked the image see their profile, he was greeted my a normal photo of you, it stood out. Lucifer saw the message illuminating in corner of the screen, he let out a breath and opened the message and saw a simple
Y/N - “Hi :)”
I sat their staring at the message before typing himself
Luca - Hi
Time skip (why? Because I fucking said so.)
Over the past few weeks, Lucifer and Y/N talked every day. Learning every little detail of each other. Lucifer learned about your job, your friends, how you lived and how you died even. He couldn’t help but want to know everything.
Y/N learned he had a daughter and that he’d been “recently divorced”, his words not theirs. Y/N learned that he loves ducks and creating new duck toys, he was a big dork, like a big puppy dog. Of course you didn’t know you were talking to Lucifer himself, you thought you were talking to a man named Luca…
During Lucifer’s now frequent visit to his daughter and her little Hazbin hotel, Charlie couldn’t help but notice how her dad was one his phone more then usual, usual being never. Naturally, Charlie was curious. “Sooo..” Charlie started, a little unsure what to say about her fathers new found internet obsession. “Who are you talking to?” Charlie ask curious.
Lucifer was quick to meet his daughters eyes and quickly put his phone face down on the table . “No one!” He said in an almost scream, before it buzzed again..and again…and again. Charlie eyes went between her dads now sweating face and and his phone. Before Lucifer could even react, Charlie reached for his phone. “Wait!” Lucifer said reaching for his phone from her hands, the phone screen lite up and Charlie was greeted my 4 notifications from someone named Y/N from Viva. Charlie gasp turning quickly turning to face him, Charlie’s face lite up like Christmas lights. “YOUR TALKING TO SOMEONE?!” Charlie squealed from excitement, since she helped set up his password she quickly opened his phone to see more.
“Charlie don’t-“ Lucifer started to say before seeing her face fall from its happy to confused. “Wait..” Charlie said looking at his profile, “why is your name ‘Luca’?” Charlie ask her eyes moving from his phone finally to be greeted with Lucifer’s red face “well…,” Lucifer started, “I wasn’t comfortable putting my name and photo on there so…I put a different name and photo.” Charlie’s face went from suprise to more annoyed, not angry, just disappointed. “Dad you can’t just do that!” Charlie said to her father, her free rubbing her face. “You can’t just catfish her!”
Lucifer looked confused, catfish? Like the animal? “Catfish?” Lucifer asked, truly not understanding the term. “Yes dad you can’t just lie about who you are to someone like that!” Charlie said scolding her father. Lucifer after that was able to put two and two together, the weight of what he’s been hit him like a bus. “Dad,” Charlie said letting out a sigh, “you have to come clean to them.” She said as she handed him his phone. “Char ITS not that easy!” Lucifer said taking the phone from then hand seeing them newest text, her caring words, them asking if he he’s eaten, remind him to take care of himself, her word hit his heart hard. “It’s not a normal situation, I’m the king of hell, not some random sinner!” Lucifer said he eyes not leaving the illuminated screen. “Dad, they’re gonna find out sooner or later, it’s better if you do it now, early into you talking then later..”
Lucifer stated quiet, he knew deep down she was right, he did truly like them and want more with them, he could only imagine how you’d react if he waited much longer it’s already been a few weeks… Lucifer let out a sigh and looked up at his daughter. “your right..” he said quietly, “I’ll tell them just…give me time..” Charlie stared for a moment before letting before smiling again. “Just do it soon dad…” Lucifer knew she was right.
Later that night Lucifer layed in his bed, looking at her last message, contemplating how to tell them, shoudl he texted it, no they’d think he’s joking, “maybe…” he though out loud. “A FaceTime..?” He asked himself, no, he didn’t even know how to start one… maybe…a date? You’d know he wasn’t lying about being satan himself, he could explain better then over a device and he could only imagine how beautiful you were in person… Lucifer looked down at the message you last send hesitation purged his mind, but slowly he began to type.
Luca - hey, can I ask you something?
Y/N - of course ask anything! :)
Luca - I was thinking he could go out sometime? Like a date going out.
After a a minute he saw you typing a new message. He could already feel his heart race a mile a minute, he felt a cold sweat form. Why was he so nervous? Then a little buzz when off, it was you he was hesitant but swipe to open the message.
Y/N - wait really? You wanna go on a date with me??
Lucifer swallowed the lump in his throat before typing with shaky fingers.
Luca - yes Y/N I really do.
Y/N - Yes I’d love to!! ❤️
Lucifer’s eyes lit up seeing you answer in only seconds, he can’t help but feel his heart flutter at the simple heart emoticon. Soon you both planned to meet for dinner the next night at a nice restaurant, named killer appetite, closer to the center of pentagram city, then he hit him…you both were actually going on a date. Together…
Y/N���s POV
When I saw his message asking me out, I could have screamed. He actually wanted to see me! I quickly typed and agreed to it. We chose dinner at a nice high end restaurant closer to the center of the city, I’ve heard of the place it was up scale. I was so ecstatic.
The next day at work couldn’t have gone slower, it felt like every minute was a hour long but as soon as that clock hit five, I was out the door racing home to get ready.As soon I was ready, my hair and outfit was perfect. I was quick out the door to the restaurant. On my way I received a message from Luca.
Luca - hey! Placed a reservation under L.M.
“L.M?” I asked myself, wondering what it meant, maybe his initials? I smile and replied ok,only a few minutes later I was at the restaurant, even though it was only 7 the restaurant was lively, full and packed. I walked over to the hostess stand.
“Hi, there should be a reservation for L.M?” I felt nervous, a mix of because of how busy it is and meet him…when I said the name of the reservation the hostess gave changed a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Of course! Right this way!” She said trying to put on a happy face but the nerves over shadowed that, she let me to a table already set up in a quieter area, almost completely different from the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant. “your server will be with you shortly, please enjoy!” She said as she raced out the room. I staired at the entrance way confused, why was that girl so nervous, and to have such a secluded area on a Friday night, it was unusual…
I sat down at the table that faced the entrance way. I pulled out my phone to text me.
Y/N - Hey! I just sat down! We have a really nice table, are you almost here? :)
I saw he read the text but no reply, I felt nervous again, my eyes kept watching my phone, my mouth was dry. But then I heard a voice “sorry I’m late..” the voice sounded nervous. I look up to a short blonde man. My eyes widen and my mouth is dry…
I was looking at Lucifer himself…
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fangirl-dot-com · 8 months ago
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Chapter 31 - Rookie of the Year
Last regular chapter! We have the Drive to Survive episode and then the prologue left! I'm not going to say many words because my farewell to this story will come after DTS drops which will be tomorrow night around 8:30 pm CT
The end of To Do is To Dare is scheduled for this Saturday, 11:30 am CT.
I love you all!
“Kid, are those shorts?” 
You looked up the phone in your hand up to Max, who was sitting in front of you in the limo. Your eyes flitted back down to your lap, where your dress had ridden up to reveal the basketball shorts that were supposed to be hidden. 
You shot him a sheepish grin. 
“Quite possibly.” 
Max rolled his eyes. “And why are you wearing shorts underneath a 7 thousand dollar dress?” 
“If Zendaya can do it, so can I. And besides, I’m taking them off when we get close. I just didn’t want to cross my legs in the car.” 
A snort came from Arthur, who sat to your right. To his opposite sat Charles. The four of you were all decked out in clothing that could definitely pay for a high end sports car. The Armani suits were tailored to the two Monegasques. Max’s suit and your dress were from the newest Dior line, thanks to your own ambassadorship with the luxury brand. The heels on your feet costs thousands as well. You didn’t even want to think about how much the jewelry that adorned your wrists, neck, and ears cost. 
Arthur leaned over, hand on your thigh. “Well you might want to take them off because we’re about 5 minutes away.” 
A pout grew on your lips, but you appropriately slid the basketball shorts off your smooth legs. You definitely didn’t miss the ogling eyes of your boyfriend. You gave him an innocent smile, which made him glare at you. 
“You think I’ll get rookie of the year?” 
The question made the men groan. 
You gawked at them. “What? I don’t know if they’ll do it since I was the only rookie. That’s like giving a first place trophy to the only alone person in a competition. Useless.” 
Charles gave you a smile. “What previous awards have you won or records you have broken?” 
Your eyes flickered to the ceiling in thought. 
“Ok, so I was the youngest European Karting Division Champion in 2010, the youngest Italian Karting Division Champion in 2012, youngest F4 race winner and champion in 2018, youngest F3 race winner and champion in 2019, youngest F2 race winner in 2020. That year I was also Rookie of the Year and got the Jules Bianchi award. And then I was the youngest F2 champion in 2023. This year I was the youngest pole sitter in F1, I had the most points for a rookie year with 333 points, and then the most podiums for a rookie with 15 podium finishes. I equaled Lewis’s record of four wins in a rookie season. And I think that’s it…Why are you three staring at me like that?” 
A blush formed on your face as the three men just stared. Max shook his head in disbelief. 
“You’re more decorated than I am.” 
A roll of your eyes had him arguing. With the jerk of the car, the two of you silenced. Through the heavily tinted windows, you could see the flashes of cameras. You inhaled sharply which caught Arthur’s attention. 
“I’ll hold your hand the entire time ok?” 
A nod of your head let him know that you’d be fine with that. The moment the door opened, the noise was deafening. People were screaming your name, along with Max, Charles, and Arthur. You flashed the best smile you could as you walked to the building. But a certain car caught your eyes. The familiar navy was beaconing you to go over. You let your hand slip from Arthur as you got closer to your season car. 
“Hey buddy,” you whispered as you ran your hand along the carbon fiber body. You could still hear the flashes of the cameras but it didn’t matter to you anymore. You were back with your car that carried you so well during the races.
You leaned closer as if to tell a secret. “I’m still going to buy you so you can come rest with my other cars back home. I’m going to miss you Forum.” 
The name was a simple call back to the Formula cars. But, in your mind, you couldn’t just call him Formula, because that would be weird. Max only smiled when you told him the name earlier in the season. 
Apparently, the Red Bull cars were men. 
You smiled over your shoulder at Arthur who had waited for you. Internally, you were trying to waste time so you didn’t have to sit through long boring speeches. But, the look of mild panic of being late in Arthur’s eyes got you to start moving. 
Once inside, you welcomed the air conditioning. Arthur’s fingers found the open slot of your dress on your side. The comfort of the skin to skin contact was very appreciated. 
Thankfully, they had decided to put the top three at the same table. Since you and Max were on the same team, and Charles got along with the two of you quite well, they didn’t see a problem with you all sitting together. It definitely made the night less boring. 
When Max got up to say his acceptance speech, some tears rolled down your face. It was especially when he got to talking about you. 
The Dutchman smiled down at the table, or well, at you. 
“I don’t normally do this, but I also have to thank my teammate, Y/n. 
“When I heard that she was going to replace Sergio at the beginning of 2024, I was a bit hesitant. I am used to being in a comfortable spot in life, but the world decided to throw a 20-year-old at me and said ‘here you go, have fun’.” 
The crowd chuckled at his words, but you tried to laugh through the tears. Max continued.
“The first few races were great. I had to go find her after she borrowed a car, we played football on the Miami beach, and I got to really connect with drivers that I didn’t know I could be close to.” 
You saw a bigger smile grow on Charles’s face. You personally knew that the Ferrari driver was more than thankful for Max’s close friendship. It made the season go so much better than in 2022. 
“It was in Suzuka that I noticed that my teammate had become part of my family when I was so…scared to lose her. I know I wasn’t the only one that said I wouldn’t have continued to race if she had…” 
Max didn’t finish the sentence as he wiped his eyes. Arthur’s hand gripped yours a bit tightly at the reference to your DNF at Suzuka. 
The Champion inhaled before he spoke again. 
“But what matters is that she was able to finish the season with me in third place. We were able to take home the constructor’s championship with her fastest lap. 
“Y/n has meant so much more to me than a regular teammate. And I am thankful that we get to have more years of competitiveness together. I am 100 percent confident when I say that she will be a World Champion.
“Thank you.” 
Max walked off stage as the crowds roared at the completion of his speech. You were up next, so you stood from the table and walked over to meet him. He brought you into a big hug and didn’t let go for a bit. You felt him kiss the top of your head before he let you go. 
You shakily inhaled as you stood on the edge of the stage. 
“And now, please welcome the Rookie of the Year and third place winner of the Driver’s Championship, Y/n L/n!” 
Once you heard the clapping, you made your way to the middle of the stage. The man handed you two trophies that were a lot heavier than you thought. You awkwardly grinned as you stood still for pictures. 
One the man gave you the signal to start, you bent down slightly to put the trophies down. When you rose back up, you took a deep breath. You gave the crowd a smile before you started to speak. 
“First off, I’d like to thank everyone here today. It would be weird to be speaking to an empty room, so the audience is appreciated.” 
Laughter came from the crowd, which let you know that you were doing great. 
“Next, I’d like to thank my personal team. I wouldn’t be here without my physio, even if I continued to beg her to eat ice cream all the time. To my trainer, I don’t think I’d be able to even turn my steering wheel without him. And then to Vito, my manager. When I say that he is truly the only person who has stayed by myself through the years, it’s him. He didn’t have to stay, but he did. I’d be lost without him and probably driving an uber around cities to make money.” 
Your voice gave a little crack at the end, but a chuckle covered it up. You saw Vito smile at you and hold his thumb up. 
“Then there’s my found family. I’d like to thank the Leclercs for truly putting time and effort into my career. I can’t count the amount of times on my hand that Pascale sent me some extra food whenever she visited Arthur. I know she’s not here tonight, but she deserves all of my thanks. She truly treated me like her own, even if I wasn’t. She’s been the mother that I never got to have growing up.” 
“To Charlie, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to race and compete against my childhood hero. But here we are, with you looking at my backside throughout the season.” 
You heard a “hey!” from Charles that made the crowd laugh even louder. 
“But, we both know you came out on top despite some difficulties. Thank you for being so kind to me. And thank you for signing all three pairs of my Lightning McQueen Crocs.” 
Charles blew you a kiss which you pretended to catch. 
“Last and not least of my Leclerc entourage, Arthur. I cannot begin anywhere to ever tell you how thankful I was to be your teammate in Formula 2. You saw a frightened and anxiety-ridden girl, who thought that the 2023 season would be the end of her driving career. But, you took me to dinner after our first meeting, and in the process might have taken my heart as well. I’m glad that it only took me crashing my car in Japan for you to finally confess.” 
Once again, you choked a bit. But, you’re pretty sure that everyone in the room did as well. You sniffed as you wiped your eyes. 
“But I wouldn’t have it anyway.” 
At the table, there wasn’t a dry eye at all. Arthur was wiping at his eyes harshly in frustration. The tears would not stop falling. Even Max was crying and you hadn’t even said anything in his direction. The Dutchman knew that he would be a gonner the moment you said his name. 
“To the Red Bull team. Like I’ve said all night, there aren’t any words that could sum up my gratitude. I remember hearing the news that Max was signed at 17 and I only thought, gosh they had balls.” 
More laughter from the crowd. 
“Charles might be driving for Ferrari, but I have always wanted to drive for the energy drink team. Their famous saying, Red Bull gives you wings, has been entirely true for this season. You took a chance on me and gave me my wings to fly and soar. Thank you Christian for treating me like the dad I never had. I’m excited to be driving for you for many years.” 
You changed your card and looked down at the wobbly words due to tears. You looked up, and at that moment, you realized that your eye makeup must have been running. Oh well, who cares. 
“And finally, but maybe the most important person of all in this room, other than me of course.” 
Soft laughs could be heard despite the sobering moment to come. Everyone had been waiting to see what you would say about Max. 
“If there was an award for best teammate, I would give Max the trophy over and over again. I was so nervous to meet him. I didn’t want to be disrespectful, because you don’t just become a three-time world champion’s teammate without doing something right in life. But that happened to me. Almost immediately, I could tell that Max would be a good one.
“The night we met, he took me out to get ice cream and showed me pictures of his cats for hours. At Christmas, he knew that I didn’t have any family to spend it with and all but dragged me back to his home in Monaco. He made sure I knew that I was welcomed and loved. 
“Because that is what I admire about Max. Not his career, not his driving, and definitely not his cooking skills. I admire him for his ability to be kind and to love easy. I never had the best childhood, and Max knew nothing about it, but he treated me with such preciosity. He made me feel wanted for maybe the second time in my life. 
“My childhood was filled with moments of unwantedness. I was a female going against the best boys and men in the motorsport leagues. I was treated unfairly sometimes, but I was never treated like that with Max. 
“So, Maximillian, I can’t thank you enough for making a little girl’s dream come true. I might have won all of these awards tonight, but I only feel like a winner because I am walking away with a group that no family could beat. 
“So thank you from the bottom of my heart.” 
The amount of applause could not be contained in the room. Even the security guards outside the door could hear the cheers and claps coming from the different personnel in the room. It wasn’t long before everyone was standing for you as you walked down. 
However, Max seemed to stand the straightest in pride for you. If it wasn’t for the tear stains on his cheeks, you wouldn’t even know that he had been crying. There was a genuine smile on his face. His arms opened for a hug when you got to the table. You put yourself there as he wrapped his arms around you. Your head rested gently on his shoulder. You felt his lips touch your forehead.
Once the hug was over, you felt another person wrap their hands around. You knew who is was once his lips touched your own. You melted a bit before Arthur leaned back.
“I am so proud of you.”
“Thank you mon bebe.” 
A groan left his lips. 
“You know what it does when you speak my language.” 
A smirk grew on your lips. “Oh I know.” 
Arthur only rolled his eyes. 
“My rookie of the year.” 
Max’s hands landed on your shoulder and Arthur’s. To be honest, you forgot that the rest of the word even existed. Oops. 
“Not rookie anymore. Time for the sophomore year!” Max’s voice sounded above the crowd. 
You looked up at the Dutchman. 
“I’m going to win the championship this year.” 
“No you aren’t.” 
“You are both wrong. I will be the world champion.” 
“Sure Charles, sure.” 
y/n.89 has posted
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y/n.89 wow, I didn't expect to be walking home with three trophies tonight 😚 all jokes aside, thank you to the FIA for naming me Rookie of the Year (even if I was the only one) and then for granting me the first ever Woman of the Year in Motorsports. I'm hoping that in the next few years, others will be able to be bestowed this award like I have been. Thank you everyone! See you in a few months for testing 💙 - rookie out
liked by arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n.nation, and 6,204,957 others
y/n.nation if you look in the back of the fourth picture, you can see me drowning on my tears
arthur_leclerc I am totally fine being the trophy husband
y/n.89 awwww I'm glad that I can have you as the trophy husband
y/nxarthur HUSBAND?
maxverstappen1 HUSBAND??
charles_leclerc HUSBAND?????
y/n.89 I said what I said - haters gonna hate 🤭
box_box_express I cannot WAIT for preseason testing, why do I miss this already?
y/n&co I'm just waiting for the DTS episode, it's going to be so good
y/n4ever her speech tonight, I'm kind of worried for the episode...
lestappenlove oh gosh, Charles and Max looked like such proud older brothers (I don't think I've ever seen either of them cry before)
maxverstappen1 couldn't have done anything without you kid! even if you continue to call me Maximilian in front of thousands and thousands of people
y/n.89 I don't care - you'll always be my maximillian 😆
sophomore_y/n the trophies are so pretty 🥹
formula1_edits I can see all the videos and edits on tik tok forming now - maybe something Harry Styles 🤔
author everything is going to be all right - just like it always is
y/n.89 thank you for making this happen!
author anything for you kid...anything
charles_leclerc CAN I BE WORLD CHAMPION PLEASE?????
formulala_delulu WHY IS IT ENDING??? 😭
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri
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moonbeamsandmayhem · 11 months ago
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pairing: rockstar!Eddie x fem!reader
warnings: dom/sub undertones, breeding kink if you squint, please let me know if I missed anything
NYE 1993 - 11:55pm, Time’s Square, NYC, Eddie’s penthouse
Eddie is completely drunk on your pussy. Right now, that wicked tongue you love to hate, is currently lapping at the mess along your thighs, slurping at the slick. He hums contently as you twitch with aftershocks within his grasp. Lovingly, tenderly, he kisses your sweet clit, chuckling when you squirm. “Sensitive, sweetness?” Eddie asks, blinking up at you with faux-innocence. “‘M sorry.”
“N-no, you’re not.” You hiccup and he flicks his tongue again triggering a soft hiss from you.
“Am too.” Eddie makes his way up your body, caging you in, his hair forming a curtain around you, framing his face. He was smiling at you, a mix of mischief with a splash of warmth. “So this is how you wanted to spend New Year’s Eve, huh? Could’ve been at a lavish party,” Eddie reaches down between the two of you, guiding his pierced member into your heat, stretching you nice and slow. He groans and you whimper, “But you wanted to ring in 1994 on my cock, baby?”
“Uh huh.” Is all you can muster. Your back arches and he takes advantage of the close proximity to your tits. Eddie leans down, lips pulling at a nipple, nibbling gently, his tongue lathing over the pert bud, before sucking hard. He feels you tighten around his dick and he smirks, his hips finding a steady rhythm.
It isn’t long before he has you screaming, hitting that spot inside you that you can never reach. “Oh, fuck - fuck - fuck - Eddie - fuck!” You’re soaking the sheets beneath you, and if it weren’t for the thousands of people downstairs waiting for the ball to drop and your own howls you’re sure you’d be able to hear the lewd, wet, sloppy sounds from between your legs.
“Aw, look at you,” Eddie grunts slowing it down and making you mewl, “Pretty little thing when you’re all fucked-out.” He glances out the big bay windows, confetti floating by as the crowds excitement begins to swell.
11:59pm
He turns his attention back to you, wrapping a ringed hand around your throat, his thrusts becoming more desperate, the headboard smacking against the wall, leaving a dent without a care.
10, 9, 8, 7, 6 —
Eddie’s other hand grasps your wrists to keep you in line. All the bravado replaced with hunger now, a feral need to make you both cum. He ups the ante, angling his cock in a way that makes you see stars. Your eyes roll back, and your jaw goes slack, on the precipice of oblivion.
5, 4,—
The metal head claims your mouth, swallowing your wails, you can taste yourself on his tongue.
3, 2, 1 —
12:00am, January 1st, 1994
Fireworks explode both outside and deep within your core. You give a muffled cry and he gives a grizzled groan into each other’s mouths as you cum together. You nearly blackout with this orgasm’s intensity, trying to twist away as he continues to thrust through it, filling you up.
After a moment or two, Eddie releases your throat and wrists, opting to kiss your nose which he’s satisfied to see you scrunch. He chuckles softly, pressing his sweaty forehead to yours, deep brown eyes finding your own. “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”
“Happy New Year, Eddie.”
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thecowinblack · 1 month ago
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A LONG LOST LOVE
Pt.1
Pairing: Y/N x Klaus Mikaelson
Summary: You have been looked in a chest for 200 years. A chest Mikael trapped you in. One day the Scooby gang just accidentally manages to get the chest open, Asking you to go to a ball where your husband and the rest of your family is going to be...
Warnings ⚠️: Swearing, a little angst, fluff, mentions to sex, blood and spoilers (Kind of)
A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for choosing this fic! It's my first TVD one and I deeply hope you'll like it. If you want a pt.2 please like and comment! Btw just pretend that Astrid's just dead!
Prologue
Damon opened the chest before him. Bonnie had been able to destroy the invisible magical bonds that were tying it together, but it'd taken all her power and right now Elena was taking her upstairs to get some sleep.
"Just open it up already." Stefan or at least the Ripper said.
Damon rolled his eyes and slowly lifted off the top of the chest. Stefan stepped forward to see what was in there and for a moment he was mesmerized. In the chest law a woman who looked like she was sleeping. Her Y/h/c hair law outspread by her head and her clothes looked like they were from the 1800. Suddenly her eyes opened and a gasp for air sounded through the abandoned house.
________________________________________
You were awake. For the first time in so long you were awake. You could feel your heart beating eyes slowly opening and you could breath. Looking up, you saw two men, correction two vampires, presumably brother based on their looks. Suddenly you felt a hunger snap in your chest.
"Blood-I need blood..." You scream whispered. The taller of the men, threw you a blood bag, and as you slowly sat up to drink it you felt their eyes on you.
"Who are you?" The one with dark brown hair asked. Looking at you curiously.
"I'm Y/N Mikaelson, where the fuck did you guys find me?" You questioned them.
"Mikaelson? Are you Klaus and Rebekah's sister?" The taller one demanded you.
"Sister? God no, I'm Klaus's wife. You know where he is?" You asked them.
"We can't take you to him right now, we need more information, and we're not scared to force answers out of you." The brown hair threatened you. As you let out a low laughter and stood up, telling them.
"I am Y/N Mikaelson, first of my name. The only witch, vampire hybrid there is. I'm thousands of years old. How the fuck do you intend to 'force answers' out of me? You mimicked the brown haired voice by the threatening part.
"Look I'm sorry for my brother. I'm Damon this is Stefan. We just really need your help. The Mikaelsons are hosting a ball tonight. And our... Friend is going, no matter what we say. She wants to get more information about them, please just go and keep them distracted so that nothing happens to her and we'll leave you alone." The taller one, no Damon begged.
"Sure." You sighted.
_________________________________________
The dress: https://pin.it/73RwkmiWq
You were getting ready at the Salvatores hiding so that their 'Friend' wouldn't know about the plan. You'd chosen a long red beautiful dress with a slit that went far up your leg. As you put on your sleeves you heard a knock on your door and Damon stepped Inside.
"Well you look good, almost as good as me." He cockily told you as you rolled your eyes.
"You ready to go?" He asked. You nodded as an answer, applying the last of your makeup. He led you up to a fancy carriage and helped you up. The ride to the mansion was tense. Damon had filled you up on everything that had happened to them in the last year and no you weren't ashamed of your husband. He did what he did.
"Well look at that were fashionably late. Why don't I go inside and you'll come in in 5 minutes?" Damon wondered.
"Yeah sure." You answered him.
After waiting for a couple minutes you stepped out of the carriage and walked towards the mansion, your body stiff with nervousness. As the doors opened you felt everyone's eyes on you. You knew this was a vampire ball and most old and intelligent vampires knew who you were. A myth, a legend.
Everything seemed to stop when you locked eyes with Klaus who had seemed to be making a toast. A loud crash sounded through the ballroom when he dropped the glass in his hand and ran to you. Wrapping his arm about you, your lips met. It was a soft kiss, but with something in the background, a promise for more. When the two of you pulled apart, you saw Rebekah, your best friend walk towards you. You quickly pulled her in, even though Klaus wouldn't let go of your hand.
________________________________________
When the ball was finally over Klaus dragged you with him to his painting studio. Everywhere there were paintings of you and you felt your eyes tear up.
"Hey, don't cry love." He told you, wiping the tears of your face.
"We have so much to talk about." You sobbed.
"I think that can wait, love" he said pushing you against the wall and pressing his lips against yours.
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starlightxsvt · 1 year ago
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Bloodily Safe | j.ww
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pairing ➳ psychopath!wonwoo x fem!reader
genre ➳ psychological thriller? camgirl au(read note below), college au, smut
word count ➳ 18.5k
warnings ➳ toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, very descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder (lmk if I forgot smth)
synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?
disclaimer:❗ I am, by no means an expert in behavioural abnormalities so please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. I tweaked the story and their characteristics to my needs so please don't take this seriously. Also, this fic contains some highly sensitive topics so please read the warnings carefully. Do not interact if you are sensitive to these things ❗
note: reader isn't a camgirl in the typical sense, she basically reads erotica on live.
loosely based on the kdrama shadow beauty
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I.
The glaring red light of the camera lens blinks at you as pause for a moment between your reading. Your tablet sits on your lap, glowing brightly in the lowly lit room as 8 thousand viewers watch you live through the lens.
With a sigh, you continue reading in your best teasing voice.
Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.
Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you’re too gone to care.
With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.
"That will be all for today guys. Thank you so much for tuning in. I'll be back on Thursday night!" You wave at the camera as soon as you finish and do your signature pose— making half hearts on your cheeks with your hands as the viewers leave comments asking you to stay a bit longer. Sending a flying kiss towards the camera you turn off your live and watch as the screen loads to show you how much you've earned for the two-hour live. Once the number pops up, you sigh with satisfaction and finally, take off the mask that you wear to conceal your identity.
After all, you wouldn't want people, especially your classmates or professors to find out you read erotica live in skimpy underwear and flirt with people to earn some extra bucks.
Well, a girl's gotta do what she gotta do.
Quickly changing out of the uncomfortable lingerie, you put on a comfortable t-shirt and crawl to bed with your laptop to check if the money has been transferred to your account. The camming website takes 20% of whatever you earn from each live yet the amount left is enough for you to make your work worthwhile.
Camming was never in your mind at all, even in your wildest dreams. Yet when your mother fell sick last year and the medical bills started piling up, you knew you had to find some easy way to earn good money. Then, one day, you overheard a couple of girls in class talking about camming and how good the money is.
Simply curious, you visited the website only to be unlocked to a whole new world. Thousands of people did a variety of adult content there but you were not brave enough to get naked from the start. So you opted for a safer option, reading erotica on live while wearing lingerie and flirting with the camera.
The first time you did it was only to test the waters using whatever equipment you had at hand but surprisingly, the response you got shocked you. So it started, you doing lives two days a week and earning enough money to pay for your mother's treatment and your college bills.
nerdycatboy wants to chat with you
The notification appears on your screen, telling you someone wants to talk to you privately on the camming website. You generally block these messages as most of them ask for nudes or send dick picks. Still, you click on it and watch as three dots appear, your fingers hovering over the block option, ready to press it as soon as the sender sends something inappropriate.
Surprising you, the message reads:
[nerdycatboy]: Hello, cherrybaby!
Today was the second time I watched your live.
You have a really beautiful voice.
I don't frequent these sites but I opened an account just to send you tips. Hope you received them.
Somewhat flattered, you type out a reply.
[you]: Thank you so much. I'm flattered to hear that. And yes, I received them.
[nerdycatboy]: You're welcome.
Also, I wanted to tell you something.
[you]: Sure.
[nerdycatboy]: I know who you are.
[you]: Excuse me?
[nerdycatboy]: ______. ______ of the Psychology department, Seoul University.
You're studying on scholarship.
Wanna know something funny?
I am your classmate ;D
Your throat feels something akin to a desert as you blink at the screen, praying for it to be a hallucination. The words, however, don't change and the daunting realization hits you.
Someone has figured out your identity.
Someone knows it's you.
But who?
Shit, who? Who could it possibly be?
You share your classes with almost eighty other people and it's impossible to guess this... stalker.
You're absolutely fucked.
It has only been a month since college started and you are doomed. What if whoever this is, exposes your identity and you are expelled?
Dear almighty, please let this be a dream.
A sudden ping! alerts you about another message, making you jump. Carefully, you open the chat to see what your stalker has to say.
[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't leave me on read.
You wouldn't want me to get angry now, would you?
A squeak of despair leaves your lips as your fingers nervously hover over the keyboard.
[you]: What do you want?
[nerdycatboy]: To play a game.
This really isn't looking good.
[you]: Please, just leave me alone.
[nerdycatboy]: Ey, where's the fun in that? Come on now, we'll just play silly little games.
You stare at the screen, your world coming down crashing on you as you wonder in the back of your mind, whether you should stop camming for good. Even if you wanted to, it's not possible.
Who's gonna pay for your mom's bills?
[nerdycatboy]: You there?
[you]: Yes.
[nerdycatboy]: Good. I'll come again before your next live. We're gonna play a little game then, okay?
You stare at the screen in silence.
[you]: Okay.
[nerdycatboy]: That's a good girl. In the meantime, have fun trying to figure out who I am. We see each other every day after all. It's just that you wouldn't know who I am.
You grind your teeth, holding back the urge to type all sorts of curse words you can think of.
[nerdycatboy]: Bye bye, now. Sleep tight.
[you]: Fuck you, loser.
You slam your laptop shut and lie in silence, curled up in your bed. The only way out seems to be to permanently delete your account but that is not an option for you. It is also quite literally impossible for you to figure out who it is. You don't even know if it's a guy or a girl or a goddamn fucking alien.
As the night grows deeper you only start to get more anxious and only when the sun starts to rise in the sky, do you fall asleep, your dreams plagued by the haunting messages from earlier.
II.
"_____? _____!"
The deep voice jolts you awake as you blink around, taking time to realize that you've fallen asleep on your desk during the lecture which now seems to have ended as you see everyone around you packing their bags and leaving.
A man stands next to your desk, holding a few sheets of paper towards you and you blink at them, confused.
"The professor gave us the answer sheet for last week's quiz. You seem to have fallen asleep during class." He says.
Your brain finally starts functioning just enough to realize it's Wonwoo talking to you.
Jeon Wonwoo.
The famous nerd, the genius, the pro gamer, the campus crush, the it boy and...
The man of your dreams.
"Right! Right, thank you," you croak, reaching for the sheets with one hand while trying to wipe the corners of your mouth for any drool.
"It's alright." He replies, as impassive as ever. His expression remains somber as always as he regards you through his glasses. Sometimes you wonder if he's a robot. Even though you have known him since high school, you've yet to see the man smile or shout or show any vivid emotion. He has always been the quiet type, keeping to himself, always studying or doing whatever intelligent people does.
He was the most popular guy in high school, loved by all, even the teachers, because of his perfect and polite demeanor and extraordinary results that got him many awards at the national level. The fame followed him to college too as you have seen in the last two months; with women and even some men flocking around him. You are not ashamed to admit you are one of them too, but not like it matters.
Jeon Wonwoo seems to be living in a completely different world.
"No, thanks, really." You reply, slightly awkward, not knowing what else to say exactly. He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder and turns around to walk away. He seems to have a thought as he turns his head and asks, "Rough night? I haven't seen you doze off in class ever. You are always on top of your game."
Holy shit, that is the most amount of words he has spoken to you. Scratch that, that's the most you've ever heard him speak at a time.
And more importantly, he has been paying attention to you?? He notices you enough to know that you don't doze off?
Swallowing, you try not to let your face break out into a grin. "Yeah kind of," you mumble. He nods and spares you a glance before walking out of the classroom as you watch his lean, athletic frame from behind, a soft sigh escaping from your lips.
After he's gone, you pack up your stuff, mentally face-palming yourself for falling asleep during class. Not only did you fail to keep an eye out for your stalker but you also made a fool of yourself in front of Wonwoo.
What a great day!
III.
The next Thursday, a delivery from an anonymous person comes to you just a couple of hours before your live. A handwritten note sits on top as you open the package and your gut sinks once you realize who it's from.
Hello there, little cherry!
Please accept my lovely gift. Wear it in your live today unless you want your secret to be out ;)
Also, wear something black with it.
Love, your new best friend!
You crumple the note in your hand as you eye the package nervously, dread filling your veins as your mind tries to conjure what the item might be. Hands shaky, you reach for it to rip it open and then stand in silence as you gaze at it for a while.
The asshole sent you a cat costume.
A sexy cat costume.
More specifically a pair of black cat ears, a cat mask, a pair of paws and a... fucking tail.
Absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing these provocative items on live, you sink onto the floor, an utter sense of despair settling over you.
Sweet lord, this has to be a joke.
Quickly logging in to the camming website you type your new best friend a message.
[you]: You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a joke.
The asshole is very quick to reply.
[nerdycatboy]: I see you have received my gift. No, little cherry, I am not kidding.
You grind your teeth, eyes burning holes in the screen.
[you]: I can't wear that on live!
[nerdycatboy]: Why not? You'll look absolutely lovely. The black really goes with your skin tone.
Oh for fucks sake.
[you]: Are you a fucking furry?
There are several minutes of silence.
[nerdycatboy]: You are fucking cute you know that? I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard.
[nerdycatboy]: No, cherry, I am not a furry. I just like cats and you remind me of one. I bet if I touched you, you'd purr real good.
You would never admit how that text sent a jolt of shiver down your spine and made your toes curl.
[you]: Please, can you not do this?
[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't whine. It won't get you anywhere.
[nerdycatboy]: I'll tune in later. If you do not do as you're told you know what will happen...
[nerdycatboy]: Ah, I forgot. You don't have to wear the tail during your live. It will be uncomfortable to sit with. Just send me a picture later, hmm?
[nerdycatboy]: Bye now.
Fucking mother of all fucks.
You toss your phone on the bed, groaning out loud in frustration. The cat ears and mask sit next to you on the floor, mocking you in silence.
IV.
"Hello, my darlings! This is your favorite cherrybaby, back with you. Today I'll be reading the second chapter of Sugar & Spice!"
The comments, as you expected, go nuts over your outfit— the black cat ears with the mask, covering the better half of the top of your face, the furry paws paired with a lace black lingerie. Despite your initial thoughts of ignoring them, you decide to address them with their never ending onslaught.
"Everyone is talking about my little props today." You pause for an awkward chuckle. "Well, I thought I would spice things up. Aren't these cute?"
You can hear the stiffness in your own voice. Shaking it off, you read a few comments while waiting for the live to reach your minimum number of tips, which only takes a few minutes today before you start reading the erotica.
Throughout the live, u have no idea if the asshole has joined in and you almost start to think that maybe he has left you for good, that maybe it was a one time prank. However during the last ten minutes of your live, as you proceed to wrap it up you see the notification that bring your eyes to your forehead.
nerdycatboy gifted you 500$.
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.
As soon as your live is finished you shoot him a private message.
[you]: Didn't think you'd be that pleased to see me dressed up as a cat.
[nerdycatboy]: Oh cherry, I was pleased alright. You were an absolute sight for sore eyes.
[you]: Thank you I guess?
[nerdycatboy]: Welcome. Now send me some pictures. Wearing the tail.
[you]: Can you answer a question first?
[nerdycatboy]: No promises.
You sigh. Here goes.
[you]: Are you a guy or a girl?
[nerdycatboy]: Why? Wouldn't send me the pictures if I was a girl?
You roll your eyes.
[you]: Just trying to narrow down my suspect list.
[nerdycatboy]: Cute. Keep trying. I am a guy. The man straight out of your nightmares, as you will start to find out.
Okay...
There are many many guys in your class, literally half of the total students. It's impossible to figure him out among them.
[nerdycatboy]: Now the pictures, cherry. Don't keep me waiting.
His message breaks your train of thought as you sigh, defeated. Telling him to wait while you fetch the stupid cat tail and clip it on your underwear. You're too humiliated to look in the mirror so instead you place your tripod on the bed with your phone and pose a couple of times or so, one from the front and one from the back.
As you scroll through them, you cannot bring yourself to believe you just took these pictures and let alone you're about to send them to someone. Each of them is equally provocating and humiliating. Before you start to think too much you bite your lip hard and send, watching as he views your message.
[you]: There you go, asshole.
[nerdycatboy]: Only three?
[you]: Take it or leave it. I'm tired.
You reply, not caring to be polite. The frustration and humiliation get to you as you rip the stupid things off your body and toss them away before falling on your bed and lying face down in silence.
[nerdycatboy]: Getting feisty. It's okay, I'm feeling kind today so I'll let you go.
[nerdycatboy]: Until next time, little cherry. xoxo
You watch his messages, a numbing feeling of defeat settling over you as you turn off your phone and push it away.
Even though you desperately want to think of nothing a thought continues to nag you. A shameful, despicable thought that you just can't seem to ignore.
You might be really enjoying being humiliated by an unknown man on the internet. How truly absurd, no? You let out a scream of frustration into the pillow. A faceless, seemingly rich man who has a kink of humiliating you is keeping your mind awake and body restless at night.
How did it ever get to this?
V.
[nerdycatboy]: I've been thinking about your task for tomorrow and finally made a decision.
[you]: Okay...
[nerdycatboy]: Wear a white shirt. Nothing more, nothing less.
[you]: Excuse me?
[nerdycatboy]: You heard me all right, little cherry.
You keep staring at the message as if looking at it long enough will make it disappear. It definitely doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.
[nerdycatboy]: And keep the top two buttons undone. Showing a little cleavage won't hurt. And wear red lipstick.
You keep staring at your screen, wondering in the back of your mind for the nth time just how your life came to be this.
God sure loves to test you.
[you]: I'm not a harlot you know.
[nerdycatboy]: Never said you were one. Besides what's wrong with being a one?
Him and his way with words. You roll your eyes, your fingers pressing the keys on the keyboard angrily.
[you]: If I wear white my tits will show.
[nerdycatboy]: That's exactly the point.
A seething rage envelopes your entire being as you clench both of your fists, inhaling a few deep breaths to stop yourself from smashing something. Ever since you came across this asshole you're realizing you've unlimited anger that you never thought you had in you.
[you]: Whatever, dick.
You reply and shut off your computer in an unsuccessful attempt to block him out.
However, the next day, you do end up doing your live in a plain thin white shirt which of course, makes the chatbox go up in flames.
Within a minute of starting your live, comments about your outfit start flooding in.
Fuck, you look so hot!
The red lips suit you so much!!
Yo, I can see her nipples.
You're getting bolder these days. Love to see it!!!
I'll pay anything for you to take the shirt off.
Swallowing, you ignore the crude comments and start with your usual greeting. "As you can see, everyone, my outfit is a bit risky today. Just thought I'd venture into something new." You force a laugh.
Did she lose a bet or something?
Yes, we need more risky outfits. How about being topless next time?
It's a downpour of all types of comments but you can't let them get to you. So you start reading the erotica instead, reading one or two decent comments every now and then for the next two hours. The view count is insane, the highest you've ever had and the number of tips are also sky high.
A tiny, tiny part of you is thankful to your crazy stalker, whom, you haven't seen in the comments section. You could have missed him, sure, but he was silent during the last live too so you can't rest easy knowing he is watching. You're ninety-nine percent sure he's gonna DM you as soon as the live is over.
Which turns out to be accurate.
Just as you are done taking off your mask and stretching your sore muscles after the live, his message pops up on the screen.
[nerdycatboy]: you looked absolutely devouring, little cherry.
You don't know why those words make you flush. Just a little bit, you tell yourself.
[you]: thanks, pervert.
[nerdycatboy]: this pervert would like some pictures today too.
Oh god. You rub your temples.
[you]: definitely not nudes.
[nerdycatboy]: no? :(
[nerdycatboy]: I don't want nudes, ____. Let us build up to it ;) Just snap some of you sitting on your bed with those pouty red lips. And undo another button of your shirt.
It's humiliating how his orders make you curl your toes and feel giddy all over. Like an obedient pet, you do as you're told, a bit too enthusiastically. You take your time and make sure to appear sexy and get the best angles. Once satisfied, you send them to the anonymous and wait eagerly.
[nerdycatboy]: you're a sight for sore eyes.
[you]: Prof Luther's assignment getting to you?
[nerdycatboy]: Mhmm. These will definitely help me power through.
[you]: glad I could be of help 🙄
[nerdycatboy]: you sure are. until your next live, little cherry. don't miss me too much.
You snort.
[you]: yeah, whatever, sicko.
[nerdycatboy]: Also, I'll be sending you a gift. You'll love it. I already do.
Oh god. Worry begins to bloom as your brain tries to think of the gift. What will he be sending you now? What is he gonna make you do on your next live? More importantly, are you seriously looking forward to it?
Yes, you are. This tiny, fucked up part inside you is excited and all too eager to please and obey a random stranger on the internet.
[you]: Please don't.
You type instead.
[nerdycatboy]: You should receive it within the next three days. We'll talk then.
[nerdycatboy]: Bye, little cherry. Sweet dreams.
And he's offline, leaving you hanging once again.
VI.
True to his words and from your worst nightmares, a package arrives three days later. Once again, you're too scared to open it, just standing there in silence while chewing on your lower lip. Your gut is telling you that it won't be something good which means it can only be something humiliating and freaky.
Taking a deep, calming breath, you start to open the outer packaging to find a baby pink cardboard box. There's a note taped on top of the lid.
I can't wait to see you use this on camera, little cherry.
It's only a line but it has you sweating buckets as you take off the lid with shaky hands.
Your world comes to an absolute halt. For long moments, you just stand rooted to your spot with your mouth agape, convinced that this can't be real.
It is, unfortunately.
The asshole sent you a vibrator.
A fucking vibrator.
It's a huge Hitachi wand and just looking at it gives you shivers.
There is absolutely no way...
You're immediately reaching for your phone to fire a text to the asshole.
[you]: Wtf? Is this a joke?
You type and snap a picture of the device to send it to him.
It seems that he has been expecting you to text as he immediately replies.
[nerdycatboy]: It absolutely is not. I am very much looking forward to seeing you use it.
[you]: Fuck you, dickhead. I won't. There's a limit to everything.
[nerdycatboy]: There's no limit to the games we play, little cherry. In fact, this doesn't even begin to cover it. I have more plans for you.
You can't think of a way this could get any worse.
Holding your breath, you wait for him to elaborate.
[nerdycatboy]: Little cherry, do you want to hear my voice?
What?
Your breath catches in your lungs as you stare wide eyed at the text for a long time.
[you]: Yes but not at the cost of this.
[nerdycatboy]: Hmm, as stubborn as ever. What if I told you I'd reveal myself if you use the vibrator on yourself in live?
It's the second time your breath stutters, a small gasp emitting from you as you cup your open mouth.
Immediately, the gears in your brain start turning. You'd finally get to know who he is and end this misery. Maybe you can come up with some sort of dirt on him and blackmail him in return. The possibilities are endless, truly.
However, more than anything else you're excited to finally see who it is and no matter how much you keep telling yourself no, a teeny tiny part of you is eager to pleasure yourself on camera.
God, what have you become, _____.
With a defeated sigh, you start typing.
[you]: You drive a hard bargain.
[you]: Alright. You have a deal but make sure to keep your promise.
[nerdycatboy]: I vow on my degree, little cherry. You will know who I am within the next forty-eight hours.
The thought sends an exciting chill down your spine.
[nerdycatboy]: Exciting, isn't it?
You roll your eyes.
[you]: Shut up and tell me what I need to do in the live.
[nerdycatboy]: Ah, yes. Nothing that tough really, wear that white shirt you wore last time and play with yourself. According to my instructions, of course.
[you]: Your instructions?
[nerdycatboy]: Yes.
I'll be on call with you throughout the live, giving you instructions.
Your curl your toes and bite your lip, a new wave of excitement rising within you as heat pools in your belly. This is unlike anything you've ever done before and way out of your comfort zone but surprisingly, you're all too ready to comply.
Your hands are shaky as you type.
[you]: Okay.
[nerdycatboy]: You are so obedient, my cherry. It really is great fun to play with you.
I'll call you tomorrow just before your live, then.
You swallow.
[you]: Alright.
He doesn't reply anymore and you think he has gone offline. Just as you are about to log out too, another text comes.
[nerdycatboy]: And remember ______, you follow every instruction of mine. That means you follow how I tell you to please yourself and you come when I tell you to. If you do a single thing without my permission, you're absolutely done for.
Your earlier feelings are replaced with an overwhelming feeling of trepidation and doom in the blink of an eye.
Quick realization dawns on you that you are a mere puppet being controlled by an evil puppeteer and your fate is hanging by a thread.
VII.
The next day, you receive an incoming voice call from nerdycatboy just two minutes before your live.
You are ready with your full setup; you just need to start the live when it's time. The AirPods are also set in your ears for him to guide you through.
At first, your entire body freezes up as your phone starts ringing and anxiety envelopes you as and you fall into a spiral. But when you remember how your entire life is on the line, you pick up the phone just as it's about to stop ringing.
Inhaling deeply, you speak.
"Hello?"
There's a beat of silence on the other side.
And another.
And another.
"Start the live, _____. It's time."
The voice is deep, gravelly, familiar yet unfamiliar but you don't get to think long about it because your finger presses the start button and just like that you're on live.
You see yourself on the screen, dressed in a white shirt amidst the neon pink lighting in your room. Today, you've put on a wig— a baby pink wig with two high ponytails and wore a basic black face mask instead of your usual stylish mask that covers the upper half or more of your face. It's obvious you're trying to cover as much of yourself as possible to counter the part that you're going to show.
Oh, sweet lord, you're doing this.
Your greeting and interaction are a lot stiffer compared to other days as there is a sadistic man in your ears. You've also restricted the comment box because you feel it's necessary for today, hence they move slowly as you go through them.
The man in your ears has been quiet but you know he's there, waiting with you, for the view count to reach the minimum. As soon as it does, he speaks.
"Why don't we get started, _____. Introduce your toy to everyone."
You swallow as your panicky gaze lands on the intimidating piece of device right out of the camera frame. You are full of nerves and anxiety and to de-stress yourself just a bit, you take a sip of the wine that you've hidden in your coffee cup.
Then, with a deep breath, you start.
"So guys... I've already said that I'm not gonna be reading today. Instead, I'm trying something new and different. Very, very different." You force a smile at the camera as you pick up the device and grip it tightly in your hand.
"I'm in the mood for...playing tonight and guess what I'm playing with?" You inhale deeply before lifting the device to show it to the camera, moving it around in a teasing manner.
As expected, the people in the comments go insane.
"That's right. I'll be using this pretty toy on me." You give a seductive smile, despite wearing the mask, hoping your eyes coney the expression.
"Good job, little cherry. Let's not waste time now. Turn it on." The man commands quietly and once again you're body acts like it's on autopilot, obeying him immediately.
There's something about his voice, so dangerous, so attractive. Something so powerful you don't dare disobey.
It's insane, really.
As ordered, you plug in the device and turn it on, watching warily as it starts vibrating, your throat going dry.
"Go ahead. Open your legs and put it on your pussy. Don't hold it anywhere too long, though. Tease yourself."
Oh fuck.
The sensible, conscious part of you starts freezing up with fear while the other part lets you only think about how hot all of this is and how eager you are to comply.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean back on your seat and part your legs. Trembling hands reach between them to pull your pink lacy panties to one side, revealing yourself to the camera.
There, you've done it.
Something inside you goes numb as you feel the chilly air on your bare core and from then on, you start feeling like a complete puppet, only here to dance as her puppeteer pleases.
Now there's no going back.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the comments fly by as the view count increases significantly.
Your puppeteer has been silent and you're somewhat grateful for his patience as you slowly adjust to your actions.
With another huge breath, you bring the thrumming device to your pussy and gingerly touch yourself while interacting with the camera, careful to follow the given instructions.
You're so wound up you don't feel any pleasure at the first touch on your pussy.
"You're so tense, _____. Don't make it look like someone is holding you at gunpoint. Relax your body, little cherry."
It proves to be harder said than done.
Still, you try to get yourself to relax and interact with the camera as you once again bring the device to your lips, playing with yourself.
"Good girl, _____. You look absolutely ravishing right now. Just keep following my voice and I promise you'll have the best orgasm you've ever had."
His tone is gentle yet ordering and oh so deep that you close your eyes and just let his words wash over you. The vibrator touches your clit right then making you jolt in your seat, a sigh of pleasure falling from your lips.
"Fuck, you're soaking, little cherry. You can try to act unwilling but deep down you are loving this. This is what you want, what you need, _____." His voice is gravelly as he breathes in your ears and you chew on your lower lip, knowing there is some truth to his words.
"Hold your pussy lips open, cherry. Run the toy up and down your folds."
You do as you are told, holding yourself open to the camera as the vibration goes through your soaking folds, making you whine in need.
"Turn the vibrations up. Just one bit."
The toy thrums stronger against your core and your legs start shaking just the tiniest bit. They have fallen wide open, resting against the armrest of your chair as you play with yourself.
"So obedient, little cherry. And so filthy. You're a real sight." He whispers. Your brain is starting to feel hazy as all your attention hones down to get yourself to release but as you expected, it doesn't prove to be so easy.
"Turn it off. Now."
Despite the serious urge to disobey him, you turn off the vibrator, teeth gritting, your pussy twitching in protest.
"We're you close, little cherry? Too bad, we can't have you cumming so easily. Turn it on again. Stroke yourself with it. Slowly."
And once again, you are eagerly following his words.
"Push it inside your pussy lips, little cherry. Just a bit. Not all the way, though."
Swallowing, you release a shaky breath and slip the vibrating head inside you, just a little bit— not even half of the head and the pleasure significantly increases as you let out a loud moan.
"Feels good doesn't it? Don't you dare slip it all the way in. There's no way I am letting a toy get inside you before myself."
His words make a shiver roll down your spine as you think of his cock and him whispering filthy words in your ear as he takes you. The little, sane part of your brain shakes her head at your deprived thoughts about a faceless man who has been blackmailing you.
"Turn it off."
Just like before, the man seems to know when your orgasm starts to rise. He tells you to shut off the device and much to your reluctance you do so, not knowing how long you can continue this without losing your mind.
"Turn it on to the highest setting this time. Hold it right on your clit. Don't you dare cum, cherry. I wanna see you writhe."
Oh fuck.
It's a really tough challenge, one you're sure you're gonna fail, yet you're helpless. You do as you're told, holding the throbbing device on your most sensitive part as you start to feel like you're gonna lose your mind. Your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, heavy pants falling from your lips as your legs shake.
"P-please, let me...come."
"You look so fucking hot right now cherry. I want to see you like this, begging for my cock. Tell me, do you want it?"
"Y-yes. Please..." You are so close you can taste the release.
"Turn it off, cherry. Right now."
With a cry of protest, you turn off the vibrator and let it fall from your hands as you slump back in your chair and catch your breath.
This is the sweetest torture.
The comments go wild, some wanting to see you come and some telling you to keep edging yourself. As you watch the number of tips only increase, your toes curl at the indecency of all of this.
"Let's continue, baby. Turn it on, play with yourself."
Hands shaky, you reach for the device again.
This game of cat and mouse continues until you're a crying and begging mess. He finally grants you your release and then rewards you with a short break before continuing. In the next couple of hours, you come three more times and your bones turn to jelly by the end of it. The live reaches its end when he finally hangs up the call and you're all too quick to wrap things up.
When your computer screen goes black and you can see your disheveled state in the reflection, your mind blanks out as you sit in complete silence, the happenings of the evening slowly replaying in your mind.
The money you've earned tonight is more than you could ever imagine and yet there is no happiness or relief bubbling in you. Rather, you feel empty and absolutely numb, the past hours feeling like a fever dream but the ache between your legs tell you they are very painfully real.
The screen of your phone lights up with two notifications, interrupting your trance.
nerdycatboy has sent you 1000$
[nerdycatboy]: a little gift for your hard work
You stare at the screen in silence until it goes black and then some more. It takes a while for you to realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. And then you are full-on sobbing as you hide your face in your hands and weep at the overwhelmingly miserable situation of yours.
When you finally get some sleep it is late into the night and tears are staining your cheeks and your pillowcase.
VIII.
Despite the rough night, you attend your classes the next day, somewhat glad that they are in the evening. You doze through all of it though, tired and way too distracted to pay attention to the lecture.
The tips of your fingers drum continuously against your desk as you wait for the class to be over. Your mind is spiraling; going haywire thinking about the fact that you will be meeting nerdycatboy today.
That is if he keeps his promise.
He hasn't contacted you since last night and given his stalker-ish tendencies, you're sure he knows your schedule. So why hasn't he messaged you yet?
Probably because he played you, silly girl.
You let out a loud sigh, frustrated, exhausted and enraged. How much longer will this match of cat and mouse go on? You have seriously started to consider shutting off your page temporarily because playing this stupid game with the anonymous asshole is proving to be way too much for you to bear.
The lecture finishes at some point while you're stuck inside your head and as you start packing your bags, you receive a text.
It's him.
I'll meet you at the library building in half an hour.
Your head immediately snaps up as your eyes scan the crowd leaving the classroom, a failed attempt to pinpoint him.
Okay, I'll be waiting.
You grab a coffee while waiting for him, your foot tapping the ground incessantly as you come to terms with the fact that you will be seeing him soon. Your misery will finally be over.
Hopefully.
What do you do when you see him? Curse at his face? Hit him? Or say it was nice playing stupid games with you now please leave me alone?
You've no idea. Your nerves leave you feeling jittery and tense as you see the clock hit seven in the evening. Half an hour is almost up so you start walking towards the library building, goosebumps arising on your skin as shivers roll down your spine.
You don't know if it's the chilly evening air or your nerves.
The library closes at six thirty so there is no one around the building now. The sun has long set and the sky is dark now, save for the little bits of orange and pink here and there.
It could be your brain projecting things but the atmosphere feels eerie and you wonder why he chose such an empty place. What does he plan to do with you? He wouldn't have chosen a quiet place unless he had some bad intentions, right?
Stop overthinking, _____. Your brain hisses.
The watch on your hand reads 7:10 now and there's no sign of anybody. Anxious, you shoot him a text, asking where he is and as expected you don't get a reply.
Tired of looking around the area with wide and restless eyes you decide to step inside the building. The ground floor is still unlocked as there are a few storage units here and you make yourself comfortable in the dimly lit hallway, leaning by a small window and focusing on the garden outside to distract yourself.
Seconds pass by with your feet tapping on the tile floor in matching beats. You grow more impatient, repeatedly checking the time and your message to see if it has been read.
Until you hear footsteps.
They echo down the hall as someone enters the building.
You hold your breath and watch the silhouette, your eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.
And your entire world crashes and burns.
It's Jeon Wonwoo, walking towards you.
IX.
The first thing you tell yourself is that this is a coincidence, that he's here to get something from the supply closet. But the idea seems less and less plausible as he keeps walking towards you, his strides determined and only stops a few feet away from you.
You gulp, your entire body frozen as you gape at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something.
Judging from the upturned corners of his lips, your reaction seems to amuse him plenty. He stands there, his hands in his pockets as he watches you with a twinkle in his eyes and says the words you were still praying he wouldn't.
"Hello, little cherry."
X.
Despite expecting those words, the shock that overcomes your system is enough to make you lose your footing as you stumble on your feet, hands reaching for the wall behind you to support yourself.
Your breath comes out in the form of short pants as small beads of sweat gather on your forehead.
You knew, you knew, you knew.
You knew it!
The second you heard his voice yesterday, your subconscious told you it was Wonwoo. You, however, chose to be ignorant, dismissing the idea just as quickly as it appeared.
There was no way it could be Wonwoo. Except it is.
You should be glad it is him, no? After all the man you had imagined in the place of the faceless man was always Wonwoo. He had been the man of your fantasies for the longest time yet the feeling of betrayal and hurt is overwhelming.
Funny, considering that he didn't actually betray you. If anything, you have been betraying yourself.
Wonwoo stands in front of you, still as a statue, hands in his pockets, his stance calmer than a winter evening. His face is blank but there is a glint in his eyes, something between sadistic amusement and cocky satisfaction as he watches you crumble in front of him.
Where is the plain old nerdy Wonwoo?
"Wo-Wonwoo..." You don't know what you are trying to say as you lose your train of thought, dropping abruptly onto the ground. Accidentally, you scrape your index finger by the windowsill but your brain registers no pain due to the overwhelming shock as you simply sit in silence and stare as little drops of blood ooze out of the cut.
God, this is straight out of your worst nightmares.
Or, your darkest, filthiest fantasies?
Wonwoo, however, seems to spot the drops of red beading on your fingertips which you ignore. He takes slow but determined steps toward you, his footsteps echoing eerily through the empty hallway. When he is right in front of you, he stops before kneeling on one knee as one of his hands reaches for your injured finger.
He watches the little drops of blood ooze through the cut with rapt attention, his dark eyes somehow appearing darker in the dim lights. Then, surprising you, he takes your hand and brings the bleeding finger to his lips, his eyes intently focused on yours as he sucks the little cut. Your breath hitches, half of yourself wanting to yank your hand away from disgust and rage while the majority of you remain paralyzed as the hauntingly mesmerizing scene plays in front of you.
"Be careful now, can't have you getting hurt now, can we, little cherry?" He takes the finger out of his mouth and observes while the corners of his lips lift into an eerie smile that finally manages to bring some heat into your blood as you seize your hand out of his grip.
"Fuck you, asshole! You're fucking sick!" You hiss out the words you never thought you would say to Wonwoo.
Your attack brings an even bigger smile to his lips as he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "Oh little cherry, tell me something I don't know."
You swallow and try to scoot away from him despite the limited space. "Did you have fun bullying me, you sicko?"
"Come on now, _____. Let's not twist the truth. I was not bullying you. We were just playing a game. Besides, I should be the one to ask that." He coos at you, his voice so innocent it makes your brain trip. Tilting his head to a side he keeps stroking your cheek with his fingertips and whispers, "Did you have fun being ordered around by me? By being humiliated? Hm, pretty girl?"
Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, clenching your hands in tight fists to stop yourself from hitting him.
He chuckles. "It's alright. You don't have to answer that." He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and stares down at you, tilting his head once more as if you're one fascinating creature. "Because we both know you loved it."
"I didn't!" Your protest is immediate as you muster every bit of strength to stand up and get into his face. "I didn't, you asshole. Don't kid yourself!"
Another pleased smile graces his lips. "Really? You didn't like it every time I called you a good girl? You didn't get more wet every time I told you I'd reward you with my cock?" He inches his face closer to yours, leaving just an inch of a gap.
"Do not kid yourself, _____." His voice drops a pitch as you feel the shift in him, goosebumps breaking on your skin. "You call me names but deep down you know you are a filthy slut and you loved being treated that way."
No. No, you didn't.
Or did you?
"Shut up!" You yell, pushing him with all your might as he stumbles a few steps back. There's a little pause in the air before his eyes meet yours as he pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose.
"You want me to shut up because you know that it's the truth, _____-"
"Stop psychoanalyzing me!" You hiss, a fresh coat of tears blurring your vision. "Look at yourself, you twisted fucking jerk!"
You push past him as you try to stomp away but his hand catches your arm at the last second, tugging your body close to him. He leans down, his breath hovering on your ear as he whispers. "You better watch your mouth, cherry or I'll show you just how twisted I am. And you might not live to even see through it."
A bucket of ice-cold water seems to wash over you as you realize the gravity of the situation. For the first time since meeting Wonwoo, you're actually scared for your life, especially when you gaze into his pitch black pupils and the little flash of teeth peeking between his lips. Even though his grip on your arm is ironclad, you yank your arm away with all your strength and start running away from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ribcage.
You dash straight out of the library and you only stop until you're in front of a convenience store far enough. Falling on your knees, you catch your breath as you pant heavily, eyes scanning around to make sure he didn't follow you.
A new sense of fear and doom settles over you as you start to realize you might have walked into a situation that may not allow you to get out.
Alive, at least.
What's worse is that a part of you is actually excited.
XI.
Sorry guys, I cannot be doing today's and next week's livestream due to some personal problems. Please understand. Thank you!
You post the notice on your camming page and lean back in your chair, exhaling a loud sigh. The past night has been tiring with the constant struggle of being alert and a dreadful paranoia that won't leave you alone. Jeon the twisted Wonwoo keeps reappearing in your thoughts, haunting you whatever you do.
Within minutes after your post, you get a notification of an inbox and you don't have to see it to know it's the one and only, Jeon psycho Wonwoo.
[nerdycatboy]: Must have really scared you, eh?
You stare at it for a while, thinking of something snarky to reply but nothing comes up so you just decided to ignore it.
He doesn't give up.
[nerdycatboy]: Don't be scared, cherry. We've had so much fun until now. You know it deep down.
Why ignore the obvious?
You sigh, rubbing your temples.
You really need a break from all this. From him.
[you]: Can you leave me alone for one day? Please?
He doesn't text back for a while.
[nerdycatboy]: Since I'm feeling kind, sure. I won't bother you for the next twenty-four hours. We'll talk after you've regained some of your composure and hopefully your senses.
[nerdycatboy]: Because deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.
[nerdycatboy]: Sweet dreams, little cherry.
His message radiates a type of threat the longer you stare at it and your mind starts to go haywire. So you shut your laptop off and lie in your bed in silence, his words repeating over and over in your head like a mantra.
Deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.
Yes, yes you do know that. And you feel absolutely horrible for it. Who in their sane mind would allow an unhinged, deadly man to humiliate and low-key blackmail them online for some twisted form of entertainment?
You, for sure.
Your issues run deep, girl.
You mentally shake your head at the situation. If you're attracted to a man like that there has to be something wrong with you, no? But what is worse is deep down, you don't want to stop. You want to push and push and take it to the very end, extremely curious to see what is in store for you with Wonwoo.
Nothing dull, for sure.
And as if you needed more proof; you end up seeing the man even in your dreams, where he does unspeakably filthy things to you and you only beg for more.
XII.
Sunday afternoon, when you're done soaking in the tub for a good hour while enjoying a much needed glass of wine, you sit on your robe and do your skincare when your doorbell rings.
You're confused because you aren't expecting anyone. However, when you peer into the peephole your confusion flips into terror and panic as you see Wonwoo standing.
You must be seeing things, right?
No, you realize, once you double check.
What do you do now? Pretend you're not at home? Tell him to fuck off? Call the police?
You're being too dramatic, your subconscious rolls her eyes.
But your emotions are valid because you have been ignoring texts from the man. True to his words he gave you just twenty four hours before starting to send you messages again that you were too overwhelmed and cowardly to open. Now you're realizing what a horrible decision that was.
Shaking off the thoughts you straighten up and square your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you open the door.
Wonwoo stands there, looking unfairly good, dressed in a plain loose white tee and dark blue jeans, his black hair falling messily on his forehead, a few strands lying on top of his steel-framed glasses.
You briefly wonder if you have a glasses kink, if there is even such a thing.
He stands there looking so boyfriend material, it devastates you, making you wonder if this is an alternate universe where you're a 'normal' couple.
Because he definitely doesn't look like a sadistic, anti-social, slightly psycho nutjob right now. And it messes up your brain chemistry badly.
"Hi," your voice is akin to a mouse squeaking as you feel hot all over.
"Hello, _____." His voice is so sinfully deep.
Why is acting so normal? Like he's a classmate here to do an assignment with you?
"I... wasn't expecting you..." You stumble over your words.
"You weren't replying to my messages so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Make sure you're okay, you know? Our last meeting really shook you up."
You really can't tell if he's teasing you or being genuine but the delusional part of you takes it as a genuine effort.
"May I come in?"
"Of course!" You blink, moving to make way for him. He walks past you, leaving a trail of his cologne wafting in the air that creates a sudden urge within you to grab onto him and sniff him like a dog.
Yeah, you have serious issues.
You follow him awkwardly as he looks around your small space.
"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee...water?" Somehow offering him wine right now doesn't feel appropriate.
"Tea, please. Black."
Why is he being so...nice? So normal? Is this the climax of his games? Murdering you in your own home after sweet talking you? After making you drop your guards? You shake your head at the possibility and watch the kettle as it heats the water, waiting for him to initiate a conversation which he doesn't.
This is suffocating.
When you offer him the steaming mug he murmurs a thanks and then asks, "Where's your setup? I'd like to see it."
Uh oh.
"Uhm," you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's in my bedroom."
"Mind giving me a tour?" His face doesn't give away any malicious intent but then again, he has always been great at keeping a blank face. If anything, he genuinely sounds curious.
Sighing, you guide him to your bedroom. The room is decent size with your bed on one side and your setup on the other. It's nothing fancy, just your pc and your huge, comfortable chair.
"When I film I put up a screen behind me and turn on some lights, you know," you mumble trying to fill the void. He looks around carefully before casually taking a seat on your bed and sipping on his tea.
"It's pretty. Like you, little cherry." His eyes connect with yours and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.
He's so... attractive. Everything about him. His looks, his voice, his attitude, his low-key psychotic persona.
"Take a seat, I won't bite." He says, his signature smirk finally appearing as you shudder before tentatively sitting next to him on your bed, still keeping a few inches of space.
"How did you find my address?" You ask softly.
He shrugs, drinking his tea, "Did some snooping around."
Not surprising. Not unlikely of him either.
"Have you thought about what I said, little cherry? About what you really want?" He asks, his voice a deep timbre as he sets down the mug on your bedside table.
Oh boy, we're not beating around the bush.
"Are you seriously here to talk about that?"
"Answer my question." The way he says those words make you weak in the knees.
"Yes," you swallow, not breaking eye contact with him. A pleased smile graces his soft pink lips and you're hit with the sudden temptation of kissing them.
"And what is your conclusion?" He asks, leaning closer to you, his scent making your brain hazy. One of his fingers traces over your cheekbone and then past your jaw to your neck.
It's electrifying.
''W-what if I want nothing to do with you?" You whisper. He laughs quietly before whispering in your ear, "That is not an option because we both know that's the last thing you want, little girl."
Little girl. Your insides swoon.
His face is now inches apart from yours, his fingers caressing your cheek oh so softly as he watches you with those dark, seductive eyes of his.
It doesn't take a second for you to make your decision.
"Will...will you kiss me, Wonwoo?" You croak.
He arches a surprised brow before smiling in great pleasure as he leans back to watch you. "You are always a surprise, _____. Only if you say please."
"Please."
"Good girl," he praises and that's almost enough to make you come. He wastes no time, cupping both of your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks go off in your head. Your hands move to clutch his shoulders and a soft needy moan escapes your lips when you feel how solid they are.
Holy mother of gods, you need to get dicked down by him.
Immediately.
Wonwoo's tongue explores every bit of your mouth as his hands grab your jaw and neck tighter, his body shuffling close to deepen the kiss. You become a puppet and let him play with you as you melt in his arms, letting him lead however he wants to.
When you two break apart you're panting heavily. Wonwoo watches you with glinting eyes, his pink lips slightly swollen like yours as his thumb traces over your lips. You subconsciously open them and he pushes his thumb in, making you suck on his digit.
You do so eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him. Heat pools in your belly as his nostrils flare and he grunts. "You're a wicked little minx you know that, little cherry?"
I can be whatever you need, you inwardly purr as you give him a particular hard suck before he takes it back.
"You want my cock? Is that what you're trying to say?" He questions, standing up and tilting your chin to meet his gaze.
You can only nod, breathless with anticipation.
"I need words, ______. You're not mute." His voice is commanding, and scolding, which makes you even wetter.
"Please fuck me, Wonwoo."
He grins. An evil, victorious grin.
"Good girl. Stand up." You do so and he tugs the belt on your robe, making it fall open in a fluid motion. Your hands move to cover yourself but he glares at you in warning, making you stop halfway.
"Don't be shy now." He whispers, letting the material fall off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. "I've seen this pussy on camera already, no?"
You swallow as his fingers trace between your legs and then easily slips one finger in due to your wetness. You sigh in pleasure while he lets out a satisfied hum.
"Tell me," he cups your pussy, thumb stroking your clit as you shudder. "How many men have touched this before me?"
You shake your head. "N-no one."
He tilts his head, a wry smile on his face. "Are you telling me I'm your first, baby?"
You nod, slightly shaking.
"Fuck, you just made me ten times harder. I'm gonna have much more fun defiling you now."
You gulp, stuck in a trance as you let him guide you back to bed with a hard push. You land on your back and watch Wonwoo take his tee off and boy, is that a sight. Your thighs automatically press together when his sculpted body comes into view and the sight of his broad shoulders makes you clutch the bedsheets in a tight fist.
However, something catches your eye; a patch of scarred skin right on his left abdomen, spreading from the front to his back and if you had to guess you'd say it is a burn mark. You don't get to think about it long because he's distracting you with a kiss.
"Like what you see?" He's cocky.
You nod, eyes settling on the bulge in his jeans, waiting for him to take it off so that you can see the object of your desires.
Alas, he has other plans for you.
"Open your legs, little cherry."
They fall apart on command as Wonwoo gets comfort between them, one of his hands trailing over your breasts and your belly while the other softly strokes your sopping wet core. It's embarrassing how easily he can slip two fingers deep inside you. "So fucking wet, you dirty whore." He muses with a smirk.
God, you love his voice.
Your moans rise in pitch as his fingers develop a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you in precise, perfect movements. Your release is so close you can taste it.
Automatically, your hips rise off the bed as your body tilts itself upward for a little stimulation on your clit. Wonwoo takes notice of it and laughs, "Aw, little whore is gonna come so soon? You want me to do this?"
The brush of the pad of his finger is enough to set you off as you scream and let your release wash over you. Your toes curl as you fist the sheets hard enough to almost rip them, riding out your high while he continues to plunge his digits in and out of you.
Once you finally get to catch your breath, he pulls them out and pops the fingers in his mouth, making a show of licking them.
You shudder, your body preparing for another round as moisture gathers between your legs once again.
"Fucking delicious." He grins, making you heat up all over. There is nowhere to hide, your whole body on display for him and he doesn't mask his appreciation as he drinks up every naked inch of you with a devouring gaze.
"Please, f-fuck me," you're not shy about begging as the need for his cock worsens.
"Oh I will," he promises, taking off his glasses and setting them down on your bedside table. Without much thinking your fingers trail over his chiseled abdomen and then down, over the tent of his pants as you fiddle with the button, trying to open it. Wonwoo amuses you for a while before batting your hand away, glaring at you. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"
You bite your lip and shake your head no.
"That's right." His voice is calm as he watches you for a few beats, hungry eyes trained on your lips before his right hand suddenly comes to wrap around your throat.
Your breath stutters as you watch him, wide eyed.
"Touch me again without permission and you won't be coming anytime soon." He threatens, tightening the grip on your throat as your airflow gradually decreases, making you feel fuzzy. You should be scared for your life, but you aren't, instead, the action only makes you wetter as you rub your thighs and mewl and beg with your eyes to ease the ache.
He listens.
Letting you go, he gets off the bed and takes off his pants and boxers, while your brain and lungs catch up due to the lack of oxygen. You blink and gulp when you see how blessed he is in length and girth, your breathing irregular.
Smirking at your reaction, he gets back on the bed and traps you beneath him, amusement and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I don't think you'll need any more prepping," he muses, trailing his fingers to your pussy and dipping one in the collect your arousal. You vehemently shake your head yes.
He laughs. "Hungry for cock, slut?"
"Y-yes." You whisper, breathless, wide eyed, needy.
Wonwoo leans down to nip on your jaw and your neck as he aligns himself with your entrance. Then, a thought comes to you.
"We... don't have a condom..."
"I'm clean, little cherry. Besides, there's no way I'd not take this virgin cunt bare." His words are vile and his smile is diabolical, sending shivers down your spine. It's alarming how attractive you find his insanity.
"Hold on to me. Bite my shoulder if it hurts too much." That's all the warning you get and not enough time to process as he shoves his cock inside you in one go. A loud wail erupts from your throat as tears burn your eyes, your nails digging into Wonwoo's biceps as you cling to him for dear life.
"So fucking tight." His voice is hoarse as he remains still for a few seconds, letting you catch your breath. The pain of the stretch doesn't ease up but the man on top of you isn't too bothered. He starts thrusting, slow, small thrusts at first as you rest your head in the crook of his neck and hold him tight, breathing harshly.
Soon, his pace increases, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars and your toes curl. Feeling you tighten around him, he chuckles, "You like that? You like it when I hit here?" He punctuates by thrusting you right there once again and you scream.
"Yes! Harder!"
He scoffs. "Such a slut. How did you survive so long without a dick shoved up inside you, huh?" He leans back, prying your body off of him and grabs both your cheeks in one hand, puckering your lips. "Want it harder? Say please."
"P-please," you manage to utter despite his strong grip on your jaw. Your cheeks ache from how hard he grabs you but you're once again surprised by how much the pain turns you on.
"Open your mouth," he commands, intense eyes trained on you, his pace never faltering. You are not going to last very long, you realize.
You follow his command and open your mouth as he eases his grip and stunning you, he spits right into your mouth.
"Swallow it, little whore." He orders, making your pussy clench deliciously. You once again do as you're told.
"You loved that, didn't you?" He scoffs. "You are a real treat, little cherry. You're fucking perfect." His hands wrap around your throat, almost as leverage as his pace becomes wild, driving in and out of you so fast, the bed starts shaking.
"I'm..gonna come." You whisper. The pressure building inside you is about to burst and you can't hold it any longer. Not resuming his pace or bothering to acknowledge your words, Wonwoo keeps on going while slithering a hand down to your core, where he flicks your clit before roughly pinching it.
You go off like a rocket.
The pleasure is mind-numbing, making you arch off the bed with a wail. It's like a tsunami of pleasure has crashed onto you and it only amplifies when you feel him swell inside you before releasing himself. Your pussy is coated with warm bursts of his cum as your body continues to shake, still riding the wave of your high.
You feel him pull out, his cum trickling out of your spent hole as you still float back down to earth and before you can let out a sigh of relief that it is over, he's spreading your legs as wide as they can go, getting you in a spread eagle position.
"Keep your legs like that, slut." He commands, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and fierce that once again lights up the fire in your core.
What has this man done to you?
You're insatiable, riding a never ending lust filled high as you watch the insanely hot man on top of you. His hair is messier now and there's a light sheen of sweat on his body that only adds to the appeal.
You don't know if you want to devour him or be devoured by him.
"I'm not done with you yet." He murmurs, watching you with dark eyes as he strokes his cock. "Look at your blood on my cock, little cherry. Isn't that a sight?" He grins, flashing his teeth.
Goosebumps rake down your spine.
"I always loved blood but having you bleed on my cock? This is just incomparable, sweetheart." He pushes a couple of his fingers coated in your blood and his cum and shoves them into your mouth. You're all too eager to lick them clean without a second of delay.
Your tongue dances on his digits, licking them clean and tasting the metallic, bitter flavor before he pops them off your lips. Then, once again leaving you flabbergasted, he slaps you on the right cheek. It doesn't hurt bad but it stings and you're ashamed of how much you liked it.
The evil smile is back on his face. "You like that?" He smacks your other cheek and you nod eagerly. At this point you realize, there's nothing this man can do to you that you wouldn't like.
"You're an absolute fucking piece, little cherry. I'm so glad I snatched you up. Couldn't let any other man have you, could I?"
He kisses your jaw before moving towards your neck, sniffing as he goes. "You smell so addictive. So... mine." He muses as he sucks on the tender spot on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.
"Please, Wonwoo..." You are desperate and your legs hurt from staying wide open. The plea reaches his ears as he sits back and puts his fingers in his mouth, wetting them before shoving them inside your sore yet throbbing pussy. He plunges them in and out for a while, pushing his cum back inside you and watching with a smirk how your mouth falls open in pleasure.
And then he thrusts himself in. You know this time it is gonna be quick with his extra fast movements as he holds your calves for leverage and pounds in and out of you restlessly. You're on the brink of losing your sanity with how good he feels, unceremonious moans and gasps continuously leaving your mouth.
Suddenly a smack graces you on the cheek, making your body jerk and pussy tighten. It takes a while to realize Wonwoo has slapped you again and once you do so, you eagerly wait for another. Unlike last time, your cheek heats up from the force and you can actually feel the flesh burn but gosh, do you not love it any less.
"Dirty fucking slut. Letting me treat you however I want. You love it, no? You love the pain?" He hisses, brows furrowed as his pace starts to falter. You nod eagerly moving your hips against his, desperately chasing your end.
Two punctuated thrusts on your g-spot and you come without any warning. Once again, you feel like you're launched into outer space as your entire body jerks, leaving you gasping for air. Wonwoo releases himself all over your stomach and tits this time, soft groans of pleasure falling from his lips.
It's addictive.
Everything about this man is addictive.
He is the sweetest form of darkness, here to drag you down to hell with him. And you have no complaints.
That is your last coherent thought before you fall into a peaceful slumber.
XIII.
The next day, Wonwoo sits next to you in class, acting like his usual self, like he didn't blow your back out last night. He stays mostly quiet and keeps to himself, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. However, underneath the desk, his hand holds your thigh in a possessive grip, his fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh.
It is safe to say you don't get to focus much on the lesson.
After the class, you and Wonwoo grab a cool drink and sit on one of the benches laid throughout the campus field.
You are still processing the events of last night and seeing how he hasn't mentioned it even once, you wonder if it was all your imagination.
No, it was all too real to be untrue.
As you sit next to him and chew on your straw, you wonder how you should approach the subject. Wonwoo, who has been silently enjoying his drink suddenly speaks, just as you get your thoughts together. It, however, is the last thing you expected him to say.
"Did I ever tell you about how I murdered a man?"
Your body turns into a block of ice as you whip your head towards Wonwoo, who sits with his elbows resting on his knees, an impassive look on his face. Silently, you blink a few times, waiting, just to make sure you didn't hear him wrong.
He is kidding.
Right?
He tilts his head to face you, a wry chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your expression. "Come on now, little cherry, don't look so shocked."
You cough and look away, a lame attempt to mask your expression. "I don't want to know anything I should not know." You murmur, looking down at the ground. "Besides, you're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not." He laughs a little, before exhaling loudly. "I also doubt you'd tattle on me. Who would fuck you so good like last night if I went to jail?"
His words make you squirm in your seat.
"Besides, it's a really interesting story. One I've never told anyone before."
Should you feel honored?
Wonwoo seems to take your silence as a yes because he starts narrating. "Once upon a time, there was a man. An alcoholic, pathetic excuse of a man who did terrible things to a woman, my mother. I was very young when it started. He'd beat the shit out of her for every little reason. It would only get worse when he got drunk, which was more often than not. Sometimes he'd lock her up in the basement and keep her naked and unfed. One time, when I was about ten years old, he broke every finger on her right hand just because the dinner wasn't served on time."
You have stopped breathing by now, as you sit in absolute silence, your limbs immobile as if you are paralyzed. You have a very good idea of where this story is going and how it might end. That should make you want to get up and leave but you just can't bring yourself to, as you sit mute and take occasional tentative peeks at the man next to you.
"That was the first time I stood up to him. My mother had passed out from the pain and I yelled at him and pushed him which made him take it out on me too. He hadn't hit me ever before. But that night, he kept on going till the dawn, as if making up for all the times he didn't."
He falls silent for a few moments and you take a chance to peek at him. As always, it's impossible to read him, his face an emotionless canvas and his eyes emptier than a desert, lost somewhere in his dark memories. You can't help but wonder if he feels any pain or remorse as he recalls his traumatic past. If he does, how can he mask it so well?
"Six months after that, my mother fell off the roof of our building. The police concluded it as suicide because they found out she was drunk. But she wasn't."
"The night before, as always, the pathetic loser came home drunk and smashed things around for a while. There was a ruby necklace that my grandmother gave to my mother when she got married. That night, he was asking for it because he needed immediate cash and my mother wouldn't give it. She probably had enough because that was the only night she stood up against him and she protested hard. I remember her smashing a bottle on his head. Of course, he wouldn't let that slide but something was different about him that night. He was more despairing, more evil. He slapped her around a few times before choking her until she passed out. I can still hear his words in my head.
I'll get rid of you tonight bitch.
I'll get rid of you for good."
He then took out a bunch of booze and ordered her to drink them, saying that if she resisted, I'd get the beatings. She obeyed him and I only watched, as I always did and he kept forcing her to drink till she couldn't utter a coherent word or couldn't even remain seated. Once she passed out from all the booze he came to me and patted my head. With the evilest of smiles, he said,
"Go to your room. You don't need to learn everything so early."
"Then he locked me in his bedroom and didn't let me go until the morning. By then the police had come and removed her body. Those imbeciles decided it was suicide and ended the investigation just like that.
I could have told them that it was a murder but I didn't. My mother's death stunned me so much that I couldn't speak for the next few months and the asshole used it to his advantage. He acted like the best father and husband in front of the police but then came and took out all his anger and frustration on me."
He finally pauses to take a look at you and your face must have been an open book because he chuckles, "Why do you look so pale already? I haven't even gotten to the best part yet."
You want to tell him that you look pale not because of the story but because you feel sad for the fucked up man sitting next to you and his fucked up childhood. Even though he has yet to reveal how his father died you have already convinced yourself that he deserved it.
"A year went by like that." Wonwoo continues. "My mother was gone and I was the new punching bag for the asshole. He'd beat me up almost every day but he wasn't that dumb. He would never hit me in the face because I went to school and people could ask questions. I endured it all, in fact, I might have even started to crave it. I started to think I deserved it and so I took it...until one afternoon. I had just gotten home from school. He was sitting in the living room, drinking and watching TV. He seemed to be in an okay mood so I showed him my report card and asked him to sign it so that I could submit it the next day. He was quiet for a while until he saw my marks in English.
He took a bottle of booze and poured it all over my report card, saying a loser like me is better off without one. Something snapped inside of me and I yelled at him. So he broke that bottle on my head and stuffed that wet report card into my mouth and started beating me up.
After he was done he told me to get him a glass of water and go out to buy more beer for him. There was a nearby store that knew us and let me purchase alcohol. At that moment I made a split-second decision. I went to the kitchen, grabbed some rat poison and mixed it in his water before giving it to him. When he passed out I went back into the kitchen and pulled out the gas pipe and turned the knob open, letting it leak all over. I then lit a match and watched as the entire house caught on fire in seconds. I got burned too, as you can tell from the scars you saw last night. I ran out and sat on the other side of the road, just watching the fire spread. The thought of him burning alive in there brought me so much pleasure that I forgot my own pain.
It was right after noon and we lived in a relatively deserted area so it took a while for people to find out and call the police. They never suspected me because why would a twelve year old set his house on fire? The neighbors also testified that the asshole was an alcoholic so the police concluded it as another accident."
He concludes with a loud exhale. Turning his head to face you, he smirks wryly, "And that's how I successfully got away with my first murder."
You are left with a loss of words so you just give him a shaky nod and stare down at your legs, trying to process everything.
A few beats of silence seem to pass before Wonwoo reaches for your chin and uses it to tilt your face up. He smirks, "Scared of me now, aren't you?"
You sigh, gently removing your chin from his grip. "No, Wonwoo, I'm not. You did what you had to survive. It's admirable how you held on for so long."
For the first time, you see an emotion vividly on his face; shock. His eyes widen and his lips part to a little 'o' as he gapes at you, stunned. His reaction evokes some sort of longing within yourself as you reach for his hand and hold it between yours. "I am not scared of you because there is nothing to be. You were a little boy and you had gone through so much. It's fucked up but you did it to survive and you've come so far-"
"I don't want your pity and I don't want you to psychoanalyze me." He hisses, cutting you off as he yanks his hand away from your grip. You can see the fierce anger in his gaze so you shake your head.
"I am not pitying you and neither am I psychoanalyzing you. Trust me, I am in no position to do that. Especially because I believe that that man was an absolute piece of garbage and he deserved what you have done to him, if not worse. I would have done the same, Wonwoo, long ago. You held on for so long. That makes you a survivor, not a bad guy."
Your words seem to sink into him as he remains quiet, watching you with careful yet wondrous eyes. You sigh, realizing that he probably isn't believing you so you decide to give him, and yourself, some space.
Just as you stand up, he yanks you down by your hand, making you fall awkwardly onto his lap. Then, before your brain can catch up, he kisses you, rough and fast.
His lips smash with yours as he holds a strong grip on your neck, angling your face to his advantage. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, colliding with yours as your body goes lax and you give into him. It's like an aphrodisiac— his kiss, his touch, that makes you lose your guard as you fall deeper and deeper into an abyss.
When he pulls back, you are both panting heavily for air. "Do you realize what you just said?" He grunts, those fox-like eyes staring at you making your toes curl and your insides swirl. In a daze, you hum, "Hmm?"
"You'd make a great accomplice for a murder, no?" He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip while you keep staring at his lips. All coherent thoughts and senses have left your body long ago as you find yourself swimming in the sweetest poison that is Wonwoo.
"More." You breathe.
He smirks, that evil, confident smirk of his that makes your panties wet. Once again, he starts moving before you can process anything, dragging you behind him and straight to one of the storage rooms in a nearby building. You follow him blindly and as soon as the door is locked, he pins you against the wall and between himself, effectively trapping you. Yet, there is nowhere you want to escape to.
"You are an enigma, you know that, little cherry?" He whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hands work on unbuttoning your top. He quickly takes it off along with your bra before taking a step back and yanking your skirt down. The zipper on the waist lets out a groan of protest that falls onto your deaf ears as you remain too busy ogling the ungodly hot man in front of you.
"Take me out."
Your body is on autopilot as you immediately undo his belt and pull down the zipper.
"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. Wrap your legs around me." He commands as one of his hands holds you below your thigh while the other positions himself on your entrance.
And before you can blink, he's inside you. The initial stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud gasp of pain but it's quick to dull. One of his hands covers your mouth, his dark eyes indicating you to remain silent while he starts to move in and out of you.
Oh boy, is it hard to remain silent.
Especially, when you can feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.
"Gosh, you're such a slut, letting me fuck you against a wall, in a store room." Wonwoo grits, a twisted smirk on his lips as his gaze roams over your face leisurely. "What if someone comes in right now, huh? What if they see you bouncing your pretty ass on my cock?"
"Mmph," you try to moan, the image sending short circuits to your brain. Wonwoo chuckles, loving your reaction. "You'd like that, won't you? You're one filthy little slut, my cherry." He grins after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl.
"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, touch me."
The man only smiles, a cruel, mocking smile as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall behind you before thrusting once, twice, so hard that your back starts aching. Though you can't bring yourself to complain because the next moment his release is filling you up, making you moan unceremoniously.
When you think he's now gonna help you get off, the man only releases you and starts fixing himself up leaving you panting against the wall awkwardly, with the worst ache between your legs.
"W-what about me?" You croak.
"Sluts don't get to come so easily." Wonwoo smirks, throwing a look your way before walking out of the storeroom. You slide down the wall, absolutely livid, the urge to punch something growing very intense.
Something like his face.
That goddamn infuriating man!
Maybe you should just get yourself off.
"And don't think about touching yourself without me. I'll know if you do and trust me, you don't wanna make me mad." His head pops back in as he opens the door to warn you before disappearing once again.
"Fuck!" You're screaming now. "Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo!"
XIV.
Over time, you start to grow close to Wonwoo. Definitely closer than you'd expect to be with a person like him. It also doesn't help that you have a silly little crush on him and every little thing he does makes your heart flutter. Like the way he'd always put the helmet on you carefully before riding on his bike, brush your hair away from your face with soft fingers, and pull you closer to his body when you walk down a busy sidewalk.
Jeon Wonwoo was in no way boyfriend material but his little gestures, which he probably did thoughtlessly made you think he was the perfect man for you.
While things were going breezy with Wonwoo, a new problem seems to have appeared. Jacob Lee, a classmate of yours has been on your tail nonstop for the past few days, acting all friendly and touchy with you when in reality you've never spoken to him before, only seen him around the campus.
And speaking of the devil, he appears, just as you are finishing up your study session in the library one afternoon.
"_____!" His voice makes you sigh exasperatedly. "Hey! I was looking for you!"
You give him a fake smile and instead focus on packing your stuff, knowing Wonwoo will be here soon. He has asked you to stay overnight at his place for a class project but you doubt how much you'll be working on that project.
The thought of his hands all over you makes you embarrassingly excited.
"I sent you a friend request last night, didn't you see?"
Yes, and I'm not interested. You give me the creeps.
Which was the truth. You have heard a few rumors about Jacob, not good things for sure and the way he approaches you, invading your personal space like a bulldozer certainly makes you wary of him.
"Ah really? I'm not quite active these days. Projects and all, you know?" You try to avoid eye contact with him as he takes the seat right next to you, leaning much too close for your liking. "And...I don't really accept requests unless they're my close friends."
"Heyyy," he nudges your arm, a huge grin on his face. "How can we become close friends unless you accept my request?"
Oh god.
You sigh, internally rolling your eyes as you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You know, I'm in a hurry, actually. Wonwoo is waiting for me-"
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"What?" You blink, albeit stunned.
"Are you dating Wonwoo?" He asks, his tone sharp, as he stands up and steps closer to you, brows knotted in a frown.
Seriously, what is up with this guy?
"Why do you ask?" You question instead.
He rolls his eyes. Instead of answering you, he speaks, "He's a boring dude. If you really need a man you should let me—"
"Yes, she's dating me." Wonwoo interrupts all of a sudden. You spin around to find him standing behind you, a very annoyed look on his face as he glowers at Jacob. If looks could kill he'd be dead by now.
His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you next to his body and you can't help but swoon a little as you melt in his embrace. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sigh giddily.
The comfort and safety his arms provide are astounding.
"It doesn't really matter if you say I'm boring because she seems to find me interesting enough," Wonwoo says, his tone challenging, dark eyes focused on Jacob whose face now appears grim.
"Since we have established that she's mine," he emphasizes his words by tugging you even closer, "You should keep your hands to yourself and mind your business, hmm? Being nosy can get you hurt, you know."
Jacob's lips are pressed into a thin line as he glares at Wonwoo who ignores him and turns around, tugging you with him as you both walk out of the library.
As soon as you are outside, you step out of his arms and raise a brow at the man. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That? You were like...staking your claim or something."
"I was. You're mine." He says simply.
Heat blooms throughout your face. Butterflies run wild in your stomach.
Damn.
"Whatever," you try to play it cool by rolling your eyes and pushing past him. Wonwoo, however, grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms and whispers in your ear.
"You don't seem to agree, little cherry. Let's go home so that I can show just how much you are mine." His knuckles trail over your jaw, then down your neck before grabbing it, a predatory glint in his eyes.
You can't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on your face as you scream on the inside.
XV.
"Hey, I'm really sorry about the last day." A voice says from behind you and you turn around to find Jacob standing rather awkwardly.
You are going through your notes in the library when you are interrupted.
Raising a brow of confusion, you blink at him.
Jacob scratches his head. "Uh...I overstepped that day, you know. You're obviously a couple and I was trying to overstep my boundaries. I'm really sorry about that."
Well, that's a development.
"It's alright." You give him a small smile. "And thank you for apologizing."
"It's all good if you've accepted my apology." He smiles. "Also, I was hoping you could do me a favor?"
"Sure?" You say, not quite sure.
"You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with the latest assignment. Could you help me with that, please? Just take a look at my draft?" He chuckles nervously, as if ashamed. "After all, the professor did say that you had the best research paper among all of us."
Ah.
"Yeah, sure I can help you with that."
"Great! Thanks a lot, ____. Could you perhaps come with me to my car? My notes are in there. Just take a quick look and I'll let you be on your way."
You nod as you pack your belongings and follow him to the parking lot behind the library. Once you two are in front of your car, Jacob holds the door open for you, motioning you to get inside. You raise a confused brow at him.
There is a shift in him as he suddenly produces a knife from his pocket and holds it against your stomach. He grits in your ear, "Now be a good girl and get in the car, ______. Try to do anything to attract any attention and ill fucking gut you."
"Jacob, please-''
"Get in the fucking car, _____. And lock the door once you are inside."
Shaking, you do as you are told and watch him get inside the driver's seat.
"Why are you doing this?" You whisper.
"Why do you think, cherry?" He spits. His words dump a bucket of ice cold water all over you as you come to the realization.
He knows. He fucking knows. He knows your secret.
"That's right, _____." The smirk on his face is cruel. "I randomly came across your channel one night. Of course, I didn't know it was you at first. But after a little bit of observing and putting things together, it wasn't hard to figure you out. And my suspicions were fully confirmed when your nerd of a boyfriend found your identity and started blackmailing you."
Oh my god.
A small, devastated gasp leaves your lips, making Jacob laugh. "Yeah. I saw you two that evening. I know everything, little cherry. All your dirty little secrets. But what I hate is that you let him have you, calling that dumb guy your boyfriend and whatnot, but you won't give me a chance? That's not fair, baby."
"You fucking stalker! You son of a-"
"Shut up!" He booms, holding the knife right in front of your eye. "You're going to shut the fuck up and let me have all the fun tonight, hmm? You're a slut, _____. Reading filthy things, showing yourself off on the internet and now you're acting like a prude in front of me? I can't tolerate that baby, I need a taste of you."
Oh god. You're going to throw up.
In a moment's decision, you try to attack him, reaching for his face and poking him in the eye while scratching his cheek. A struggle ensues while you try to writhe and kick out of his grasp but he's stronger, effectively holding you.
"Just go to sleep, little bitch. I'll take good care of you." He snickers, making your heart drop.
Oh no no no...
He smacks you in the back of the head twice with the butt of his knife, making your vision go blurry and your head spin. Your last thought is that you are doomed now.
XVI.
The back of your head is throbbing when you wake up. It takes a good few moments to get your brain and eyes to function and when you are somewhat coherent, you realize your wrists are tied together behind you, as you remain in a half laid position. Your whole body feels sore and taut as if you've been thrown around roughly.
"Finally, you're awake baby." The dreadful voice speaks. You tilt your head, despite the pain, to look at Jacob who is looming over you, smiling, a sick kind of excitement dancing in his eyes.
Your throat which was already parched, goes even drier.
"You're fucking sick." You croak, a jolt of pain going through your ribs as you try to move your body.
A slap lands on your cheek from nowhere, forcing you to fall on your side as you whine in pain.
"I told you to shut the fuck up!" He's yelling. "Do you know how hard it was to carry your body all the way here? I had to put you in the trunk, for fucks sake!" He complains, making you roll your eyes. "It would all have been fine if you'd just shut up and complied with me!"
He then grabs you by your hair, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. "I had to wait for the last hour for you to gain consciousness, baby. Despite my thoughts, I just couldn't get hard when you were lying still."
He says those words with a mock pout as if that's the most unfortunate thing in the world and your blood boils. "Fuck you, dickhead. I doubt your thing gets hard at all."
That earns you another slap, and another, followed by a lot of screaming and cursing from him.
You tune them out, trying to conjure a way out of this hell. The first person you think of is Wonwoo and your heart starts to ache. His classes should be done by now. Is he looking for you? Is he worried? Given his possessiveness, he definitely should be looking for you by now.
You only wish you had your phone somewhere nearby.
You look around the place, trying to spot anything that may distract this sicko and aid you with your escape. Unfortunately, this feels like an abandoned building and the only thing lying around are pieces of wood, splinters and a few metal rods. Which would serve as a good weapon, only if your hands were untied.
An idea forms in your head.
"I need to pee." You grunt, making Jacob raise a brow.
"Well then, do it." He shrugs before smiling. "You'll need to take your pants off anyway for what I'm about to do to you. Want me to help you with them, baby?"
So that definitely backfired.
Jacob approaches you, hands reaching for the button on your jeans as you writhe in protest, trying to crawl away from him. Your sore ribs protest heavily but you struggle against his grip, which only tightens the harder you protest.
You are so fucked.
"The more you fight, the harder I get, baby." He snickers in your ears, making you want to throw up.
Jacob manages to unbutton your jeans and as he is pulling down your zipper, you land a kick on his shin, making him fall on his ass with a grunt. His eyes flash dangerously at you.
"Maybe I should tie your legs too, huh? Just let me take these jeans off."
"Get your hands off of her. Right. Now." There's a sudden voice.
You both turn your head to find Wonwoo, to your utter relief, standing there, a menacing look on his face as his eyes bore into Jacob.
"Let her go." His voice is quiet.
To others, it may sound flat but you know Wonwoo and you know the look in his eyes very well. A shiver rolls down your spine and you try once again to loosen the ropes tying your wrists. If you aren't free soon, things are gonna get messy.
"The big bad boyfriend is here to save the day, no?" Jacob scoffs, swaying the knife around in his hand. "Whatcha gonna do, boyfriend?"
"You wouldn't wanna know." Wonwoo gives him a cold smile that gives even you, goosebumps. You try to mediate the situation. "Jacob, please, listen to me. This doesn't have to be like this. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened."
"Shut up, you whore! I'm getting a taste of you today and I don't care whether it's next to your boyfriend's rotting corpse!" He screeches, pointing the knife at you.
Mentally, you shake your head.
This really isn't gonna end well.
A grunt echo through the air and it takes a few seconds for your fuzzy brain to realize that Wonwoo has punched Jacob. The latter tumbles onto the floor, groaning loudly, "You fucking asshole! You broke my nose!"
Wonwoo's face remains blank as he repeatedly keeps kicking Jacob's torso, not even letting him get up. When he's gasping for air, he steps back to take a good look at him before walking to the side and picking up a metal rod.
In the meantime, Jacob manages to stand up on wobbly legs and his eyes widen when he sees Wonwoo pick up the weapon. "You fucking psychopath. You really wanna die today, huh?" He scoffs before charging toward Wonwoo, the knife in his hand aiming for his face. Wonwoo dodges it by leaning back and just as Jacob is passing by him, he grabs his other arm, twisting it roughly before clutching the hand holding the knife.
Jacob yells in pain but doesn't back down and there is a struggle as they both try to overpower each other. Amidst that, the knife in Jacob's hand manages to cut a thin line on Wonwoo's cheek, making him release Jacob and take a few steps back.
Jacob chuckles, his smile looking exceptionally evil as blood runs down his nose and coats his teeth. "I'm gonna have so much fun carving up your pretty face, nerd."
Wonwoo watches him with calculative eyes, a wry, slight smirk on his face as he tilts his head on both sides, popping the veins in his neck.
You watch with bated breath, knowing it's gonna get ugly and it does as Wonwoo charges for Jacob, hitting his head in the first strike with the metal bar. Jacob falls to his knees, cupping the side of his head as a gush of blood flows out. Before he can stand back up, Wonwoo hits him again and again and again, three more times on his head before his body slumps onto the ground, passed out.
But that doesn't make Wonwoo stop as he continues with two more hits and you start yelling. "Wonwoo, stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"
He stops and his eyes meet yours. They are absolutely cold and empty, laced with an expression of that's-what-I-was-about-to-do and for a moment you think that he's gonna kill him right in front of you but he doesn't.
Surprising you, he drops the bar on the ground with a loud echo before calmly walking towards you and kneeling down to untie your wrists. You pant heavily, relieved and grateful as your eyes become teary when one of his hand cups your cheek tenderly, his eyes trained on the cut on your lips and the bruise on your cheek.
And to think that this man was being so violent seconds ago.
"Does it hurt badly?" He asks, eyes narrowing on your bruises. You immediately shake your head, not trusting your voice to speak.
You croak, "How did you find me?"
He scoffs. "Little cherry, you should have figured out by now how possessive I am of you." He tilts his head, giving you an isn't-that-obvious look. Yet, you're confused.
"You...you didn't actually put a—"
"Exactly," he smiles, almost proud. "I downloaded a tracker on your phone."
Holy shit. There's a lot to unpack but for now, you are totally grateful. So you just nod and clutch his arms tightly.
Your heart thumps loudly as the man wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you to stand up. The bruises on your body make it hard to do so but you manage with his help and gently he guides you out of the warehouse, picking up your scattered items lying in a corner and putting them in your bag before moving past Jacob's still body.
You turn your head back to observe if he's breathing and you notice the slow rise and fall of his chest, making you sigh in relief.
Wonwoo walks you both out of the compound before coming to a stop underneath a large banyan tree, right where he parked his bike.
"Call a taxi." He says as he hands you your bag. "Go to a hospital. I'll be there soon."
Your heart falls.
"W-what? W-where are you going?" You croak, hands immediately clutching the sleeves of his jacket. His hands gently hold you by the arm, a stark contrast to the look on his face, malicious, ruthless. "You don't leave loose ends, baby."
You almost choke on your saliva.
"Wha-what? No! You-"
His lips press against yours, effectively silencing you. One of his hand cups your cheek while the other laces around your waist, pulling your body next to his. Blindly you follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongue intertwines with his into a passionate kiss. It tastes like temptation, lust and a little bit metallic— from the blood on your lips and even though in the back of your mind you know how wrong this is, it feels like the most right thing of all time.
A while later Wonwoo pulls back as the haze of lust disappears from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.
"Do as you're told, ____. This isn't a request."
It isn't. It's a command.
Yet, as he turns around to head back into the warehouse, you cannot bring yourself to call a taxi. But you also cannot muster up to follow him back inside and watch him finish the job.
Blissful ignorance, as they like to call it.
Besides, there is no crime if there is no witness.
You try to tell yourself that you're staying in case Jacob manages to run away or worse, hurt Wonwoo or in case somebody comes around here.
So you make yourself comfortable underneath the tree and take a seat, even though your sore body protests in pain.
Seconds turn to minutes as they fly by and just like that half an hour is gone. The sky is now overcast with thick clouds, indicating an impending downpour that makes you worry.
There is no sign of Wonwoo yet.
When the first few drops of rain hit the ground, you manage to get yourself up after a little struggle and despite your ribs protesting, you start to take small steps towards the building.
Something must have gone wrong.
But you don't have to go too far because you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end and you realize it's Wonwoo. Your breath stutters as you stay still in your spot, waiting for him to take notice of you and come to you. He seems to be walking while in deep thought as his focus remains on the ground so you call for him.
"Wonwoo!"
His head snaps up as he regards you with wide eyes, standing still for a moment. Then he's running towards you, stepping on little puddles along the way.
"What are you still doing here!" His tone is sharp but you ignore it. Instead, your eyes scan his body for any injuries. He seems to appear fine— disheveled really, but still fine. There is a new cut on his forehead and there are specks of blood all over his face, neck and hands, especially his hands which are completely wet and coated in crimson.
You highly doubt it's his own blood. Still, your hands reach out for him and you find yourself asking, "Are you okay?"
Wonwoo glares at you. "You should have gone to a hospital by now, ____. You're hurt." You shake your head and instead cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the little specks of blood that are yet to wash away despite the pouring rain.
His eyes visibly soften as he sighs and shrugs off his jacket and puts it over your shoulders.
"You're gonna catch a cold." He whispers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body next to him.
"J-Jacob?" You whisper.
His eyes go empty for a few seconds before he gives you a small, evil smile, "I took care of him."
Your heart falls and you swallow, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.
"B-but the body-"
"Lot of wolves in that forest.'' He says, indicating the woods right behind the building. ''They'll finish the body."
He smirks, giving you a look. "I believe Jacob came here drunk and passed out and the wolves took him." He pins you down with a look that makes you shudder.
You're now an accomplice to murder.
Gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, he tilts your head up. "Hey. Nobody will know...unless you tell them."
That's right. Nobody will know.
With a jerky nod, your eyes meet his and even though your limbs are sore, you lean on your tippy toes and pull his lips onto yours by cupping his cheeks. His lips taste like rain and blood, full of danger but oh so tempting. Your tongues dance in a haze of fiery lust and passion and by the time you two separate, you're a little dizzy.
You should really get to the hospital.
"I won't tell anyone," you whisper, stroking the nape of his neck.
"Because I have nothing to tell. Jacob got eaten by the wolves. It was just an accident, after all." You state, surprised at how calm you are.
A grin spreads across Wonwoo's face, evil, satisfied and proud. You can't also help but smile a little as he captures your lips for a quick kiss before murmuring, "You're perfect, you know that little cherry?"
You swoon. "Maybe you can remind me when we are home. After taking a trip to the hospital, of course."
"Let's go." He holds out his hand and you take it as you both walk to his bike. Blood still stains his fingertips but you don't care as they transfer on your hands too. Instead, you let him slowly guide you away from the building, from that sick asshole who isn't breathing anymore, thankfully.
When you look down your hands entangled with his, a sense of odd comfort settles over you.
Sure, this man is completely unhinged and dangerous but he's also perfect.
Perfect for you.
You're both a little unhinged and that's fine.
What matters is that you are safe now. With him.
Smiling in contentment, you bring your intertwined hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his bruised knuckles.
You are bloody, yet safe.
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a/n: and hence, I chose the name Bloodily Safe! I know it isn't that good but istg I couldn't think of anything else😭. this is, undoubtedly, the darkest fic I've written yet and somewhere in the middle I started questioning whether it'd be a good idea to release this. but the urge to share psycho Wonwoo with y'all won in the end lol. I blame pledis for this, we need an actor Wonwoo in a villain role immediately!!! I've left it as an open ending so I'm here to announce that yes, I am planning on writing another part of this, something like an extended epilogue where we focus more on Wonwoo. their feelings for each other also remain vague here and I've kept it so purposefully. it's up to each of your own interpretation. if you'd like to hear mine, do send an ask. I'm all ready to analyze and discuss our fav psycho wonwoo. also, I've yet to proofread this thoroughly so there might be some errors. that's it from me for now, thank you for taking the time to read this! have a lovely day!
taglist: @exocommunicado-03 @becauseiloveyunho @seyoungparkk @shuabby1994 @reol-0 @therewillalwaysbearainbow @sdoulc @nadiaarzu @dinosolecito @sweetiepiezz @vernonmabae @jejuboo-s @fairy-jojo @babystarcandykookie @kawaiimusiccollection @read2lips @yunhokami @knife-scream @just-here-to-read-01 @unwanted-15 @bldelaine @sysymei @joonsytip @freakinthesheesh @moonfloweronmars @simpinghrs @unicxrnblood @manamiyx @tara-drabbles
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richardsgraysons · 6 months ago
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Heyyy…. May i request a wife reader x dick grayson… she is mad at him and is giving him a silent treatment, but he is so done with this that he starts annoying her by saying Mrs. Grayson after every sentense and closing tightly lids
anon this is so adorable. i am going feral. also i am so severely sorry for my IA-ness.
tags — just overall fluff. some light swearing
In hindsight, you should've known that this would entail not just dating, but also marrying a vigilante. How could someone blame you, anyways? You were sitting at home, about to go to bed, when Nightwing crashed into your apartment after being chucked across the city by some villain or the other.
He had a major concussion. You didn't know how to treat thrown vigilantes who definitely had a couple of broken ribs and a torn ACL.
What you did know was how to comfort a man who was clearly in pain, who was trying to stifle his screams, because let's face it, the vigilante life should clearly not be glamorized.
He felt bad for the wreckage in your apartment. Every week, there'd be thousands of dollars at your doorstep from him, ready to pay it off. He had to be rich. There was no way he was giving your entire salary in four months and a half.
Eventually, you figured out his secret identity. And instead of being angry about it, Dick Grayson felt awfully in love with a girl who was as intelligent as he hoped she'd be. Sure she wasn't a supermodel, but she made him laugh. She made him think. She wasn't easy to get along with at times, but she made him better.
Three years later, he put a ring on it.
"I told you," you snapped, "you just keep going in stupid situations, and normally, I wouldn't mind, but it's like you refuse my help or anyone else's."
Dick knew he had a really bad hero complex. He couldn't stand anyone else getting hurt because of his issues. "I can handle it," he responded. "And isn't it just annoying that you've been mad at me for the past two days? Can't you just give it a rest?"
"I'll give it a rest when you start accepting help from others," you responded, your brows furrowing. "God, you're so—you're so—ugh!"
Dick rolled his eyes and then smirked at you, that stupid boyish smirk that made your heart tingle and everything else disappear. "I'm so what, sweetheart? What am I, Mrs. Grayson?"
You glared at him. "Dick!" You huffed, both saying his name and the insult. "That's it. I want a cooling down period. Leave me and the kitchen alone!"
He grinned, looking back at you, a mischievous glance in his eye. "Oh, I will, Mrs. Grayson. I will."
* * *
Making dinner was one of your forms of therapy. Dick was starting to go out for patrol, much to your distaste, no doubt about to pick a fight with someone who would give him considerable damage.
You didn't want him to go, you wanted to keep him here and kiss him forever, but he would leave anyways. It's my moral duty to the people of Bludhaven to keep them safe, he had said to you one night. I could never bring it to myself to disappoint these people. To make them unsafe. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure people are as safe as can be.
And though you really disliked it, you knew that was one of the core reasons why you were so undoubtedly in love with him.
You turned around to grab the jar of pickles, still steaming from the fight, only to find that it was incredibly hard to open.
"What. The. Hell?" You hissed. You had opened it up just a day ago, and put it easily back, making sure it wasn't that hard.
Your face turned red and you looked at it again before trying to open it up, straining and groaning, only for your muscles to give out. There was only one explanation for this.
Your stupid, lovable, husband.
And after a few minutes of recollecting your pride, you stomped over to your bedroom where he was dressing. He was in the midst of putting the top half of his suit on, and your mouth turned a little dry when you saw him shirtless.
You were pretty sure that when the first time you saw him shirtless, literal heart eyes came out of your eyes. You gawked for a couple of seconds, admiring the contour of his muscles, only for him to turn around and smirk at you.
He knew what you were doing. Dammit.
"Hi, Mrs. Grayson," he teased. "Enjoying the view?"
"Shut up," you snapped, and held out the jar. "Open this up right now and stop screwing with my jars."
He smirked at you. "What's the magic word?"
"The magic word is 'I will beat you up if you don't open the jar up right now'," you responded, glaring at him. "Now. Open."
He laughed, tossing his head back, his voice echoing off the room before taking the jar. You watched intently as his triceps flexed when he opened the jar up with ease and returned it back.
"Thank you," you said, your voice having an edge to it. You were about to turn around before he grabbed you by the arm.
"What, no good luck kiss?" Dick asked huskily in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine.
"Even if I give you one, you'll still end up badly injured."
"C'mon," he murmured, planting a light kiss on your neck, his hands dancing on your waist. He squeezed your sides slightly. "I always fight better when my girl kisses me."
You looked up at him and snorted. "In your dreams," you responded, but he took this moment to crash his lips against you. You felt dizzy and couldn't help but to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
When the both of you stopped, he laughed, looking at you breathless, his blue eyes twinkling in the night sky.
"Knew you couldn't be mad at me for that long, Mrs. Grayson."
"Shut up," you grumbled, punching his shoulder lightly. "Go save Bludhaven, Boy Wonder."
He stepped out the window and then turned back at him, smirking. "You know I am, sweetheart. And when I come back, I'm gonna finish what I started."
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miaoua3 · 2 months ago
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hii !! i'd like to request for "sitting in between wonu's thighs while he stimulates ur clit as u lay back on his chest" thank you <3
hii! sure, i hope you enjoy this!
Wonwoo, The Menace
Pairing: bf! wonwoo x f! reader
Genre: smut….just…smut
Description: wonwoo gets in one of his moods again, you end up being on the receiving end of it (not that you complain (well kind of))
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so, here’s the thing. wonwoo, your beautiful and sweet boyfriend, was usually nothing more than perfect, always so sweet and caring to you. on any other day, you would describe him as nothing more than as an angel.
on any other day. but not today.
see, wonwoo sometimes gets into these…moods, where without any explanation whatsoever decides to make it mission to make you suffer (well not really but also kind of).
and he usually decides to do it by teasing you for hours to no end with the help of your little pink vibrator.
about an hour ago, wonwoo randomly pulled you with him to your bedroom, kissing you like he hasn’t tasted you in years, hands groping your ass and tits like his life depended on it.
gradually, his pace slowed down, the closer you two got to the bed. once the back of his knees hit the bed, he broke off the kiss in order to slowly lower himself down on it, keeping up with the eye contact, as well as letting his hands slowly slide down from your back all the way down to your thighs.
and his eyes? if eyes could talk his would say “i am going to have so much fun with making you scream and moan my name all night long."
the thought sent shivers down your spine.
ever so slowly, he moved himself so he was sitting in the middle of the bed with his back against the board of it.
with dark eyes looking at you, he patted one of his thick thighs that were now spread.
“strip and sit.”
that was an hour ago. an hour of agonising pleasure and hundreds of tears rolling down your cheeks, your hands holding onto his arms tightly, his dirty mouth whispering profanities and encouraging words all in the same breath in your ear from behind.
you have already orgasmed two times already, simply from him holding the little vibrator to your clit while his other indecisive hand restlessly went from playing with your nipples to playing with the entrance of your pussy.
something about the whole thing- him being fully clothed while you were completely naked, letting yourself be at his mercy, following all of his instructions to the t, him going from “oh, you want my fingers? does my little princess want my fingers inside her hungry little pussy? hm? beg for it then.” to “such a good girl, keeping her hands to herself. cum for me, make a mess for me.” all in the same breath.
something about everything was so hot to you, which made your pleasure increase by the suspense of hopefully finally having him fuck you.
wonwoo was currently working on the orgasm number 3 from you, his lips brushing your ear as he’s whispering naughty words into it, his hand gently resting against the base of your neck while his other hand is holding the little toy to your clit.
you can feel your legs shaking against his own, you can also feel your hands holding onto his wrists tightly, as well as the tears continuously falling from your eyes and sobs mixed with moans break out of you.
you can feel all this, and yet your mind is thousand of miles away, floating away from you that you’re not entirely aware of all your actions. the only thing that you can focus on is wonwoo’s firm chest against your back and the pleasure his hand is currently bringing to you.
trying to stop your legs from shaking so much, wonwoo reaches with his free hand to hold your thigh in place. focusing on his veiny hand squeezing your leg, you hear your lover murmur "fuck, you're shaking so much-does it feel good? hm? is my baby feeling so good that she can't control herself? fuck it- i want you to cum on my fingers" he decides on quickly.
turning the vibrator off, he throws it to the side before he starts rubbing your clit with the two of his fingers quickly, his mouth nibbling and sucking on the skin of your neck as you rapidly approach your end.
before you can even warn him, you feel yourself cumming, your moans filling the otherwise quiet room. you seemingly black out due to the immense pleasure, so much so that you aren't even aware that you just squirted all over your bedsheets.
with your head resting against wonwoo's chest, it takes you a few moments to come back to yourself. it is only then that you notice both the wetness of the sheets beneath you, as well as how quiet your boyfriend has gone, you slowly turn your head upwards to him, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.
wonwoo's eyes are solely focused on your quivering legs and the wetness of the sheets, his pupils fully blown, making them look almost black.
unconsciously, you tighten the hold of your hand on his arm that wrapped itself around your chest as you were orgasming to keep you in place.
finally breaking out of his trance at your movement, he slowly moves his focus from between your legs to your eyes. in a blink of an eye, his hand moves from resting on your chest to grasping your jaw, tilting your head more to the back before he kisses you, his tongue entering your mouth with no manners at all, battling for its dominance against your own.
breaking the kiss briefly, he utters "fuck, that was so hot." before going back to kissing you again, only to interrupt himself again. "need you to do that again, around my cock."
gasping, you ask him "again?"
he pecks your lips gently once, twice, before he looks at you with lustful eyes.
"what, you didn't think i was done with you baby, did you?"
and the little sinister smirk told you that
he wasn't going to let you out of his arms the entire night.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
hope this is okay, i know it’s a bit short but that’s because i have 16 MORE REQUESTS TO ANSWER BLODDY HELL and also because i wrote this with shaky hands due to drinking coffee first thing in the morning😭 anyway love ya🫶
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violetflowerswrites · 9 months ago
Text
Taking it Slow
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Summary: An unexpected explosion severely injures you, and Jim Street, your LAPD SWAT roommate, comes to your rescue. The life and death situation makes you reevaluate the status of your “just casually dating” relationship.
Pairing: Jim Street x (Female) Reader
Disclaimer: Cannon violence and danger. Mentions of fire, explosions, and bombs. Location is an elementary school, mentions of danger to minors, but reader is the only one injured. Gruesome descriptions of bodily injury and blood. Some angst and mentions of divorce. BUT ALSO consensual kissing and touching. The smut in this is absolutely filthy as usual. Oral sex (female receiving). Consensual P in V sex. Street has a big cock. 18+ for explicit smut, violence, and language
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: I finally got around to watching more SWAT after taking a break from crime dramas and I gotta say, Season 4 has been SO good. The commentary on our Covid and post-Covid society especially with race and Black Lives Matter is so thoughtfully done. I was re-inspired to make a part 2 of my Jim Street fic from back in July 2022! This fic can be standalone but it is technically a continuation from “Too Complicated.” Enjoy!
Part One Here - “Too Complicated”
Part Three Here - “I’ll Be Here”
Masterlist Here
“All Units please respond, bomb at Harriet Tubman Elementary, repeat bomb and fire at Tubman Elementary.”
The police scanner radio squawks to life in the leather-scented interior of Sergeant Daniel “Hondo” Harrelson’s sliver Dodge Charger.
Hondo locks eyes with Jim Street, LAPD SWAT. His expression falls immediately, drawn and serious.
A school bombing?
Not on their watch.
”20 David, Sergeant Harrelson responding. Let’s roll!”
Your pink highlighter squeaks across the tiny Times New Roman text of each signature line on the paperwork you’re preparing.
A tightness in your neck forces you to pause and lean your head to the side, trying to release the tension in your body.
It’s another tough case. The student was expelled out of a previous school due to repeated fighting. His current teacher is young and inexperienced, and the counselor is definitely overwhelmed. You were called in to take over his case and then recommend him to a therapist, a behaviorist, a specialist, someone before he was expelled again.
Who knew that an 8 year old could wreak so much havoc at a school?
You glance out the window of the 2nd floor classroom, watching the poor kid get into a screaming match with a yard duty. The bright red digital display of the classroom clock shows 9:00 am in blinking lights that seem to say…
tick
tock
It’s
only
9
freakin
AM
on a Monday.
But, no one could have predicted what would happen in the next ten seconds.
One
A thunderous boom echoes across the playground, so loud that all the kids freeze, balls dropped and forgotten.
Two
Thousands of shards of shattered glass fly through the air as the school building collapses into itself from the roof downwards.
Three
The ear-splitting screech of the fire alarm forces everyone to cover their ears, eyes squeezed shut.
Four
Smoke rises in thick gray plumes into the sky, followed by bright orange flames.
Five
The stampede of three hundred little feet shakes the earth as panicked children run towards the grass field, away from their burning school.
Six
Bewildered shouts across the blacktop try to account for all the children, staff members still running out of the smoke.
Seven
Wide-eyed stares fill with tears as it dawns on the kids what had happened.
Eight
A dozen simultaneous calls to 911, all trying to be heard over the crying, screams, and shouts.
Nine
A terrifying pop pop pop makes everyone flinch and duck for cover, as the heat from the fire breaks even more windows. But it could have been gunshots. Everyone doesn’t dare to move.
Ten
After those ten, chaotic seconds, you finally open your dust-filled eyes, ears ringing, sounds muffled as if you were underwater, and your dazed mind takes several agonizing seconds to comprehend the scene around you.
Fallen desks and books scattered haphazardly across the classroom.
Shattered glass reflecting the flickering flames of a fire somewhere above you.
Looking up, a gaping hole in the ceiling leading to a smoke-stained blue sky.
The incessant blaring of the fire alarm doesn’t help your clearly concussed head make sense of it all.
You deduce that there had been some kind of accident. An explosion maybe.
And that caused an industrial AC unit to collapse through the ceiling, knock you out of your chair, and pin one of your legs from the waist down.
And now, an alarming pool of blood was starting to seep from under the crumpled gray metal.
Even more alarming, you couldn’t feel a thing underneath the crushing weight.
“Oh. I’m dying.” You huff out loud, your logical deduction giving way into dark humor.
You twist your neck around, the soreness long forgotten, and try to find something, anything, to help yourself survive.
You grab your cardigan, covered in drywall dust, and slip it under your upper thigh, tying the sleeves together as tight as it could possibly go. The makeshift tourniquet immediately soaks up your blood, turning the cream-colored yarn into a horrific deep red.
Bile rises in your throat as panic sets in, but you push it down, desperate to get out of this.
You look down, realizing that your phone fell out of the pocket of your jacket when you grabbed it. The screen is cracked, but usable.
Without hesitating, you press a number on your phone and it starts to ring. There’s only one person in the world you want to talk to before you lose consciousness. Maybe forever.
“Street! What do you think you’re doing?”
“What? You’ve never played in one of these as a kid?”
You’re out on another casual date with Jim Street, LAPD SWAT. Also known as your impulsive, annoying, immature, and absolutely adorable roommate.
That you had accidentally-on-purpose kissed one drunken night. Which led to much more…for several hours.
And now, the two of you went out most every weekend, casually dating, but not trying to label it…yet.
“Come on, Y/N! It’ll be fun!”
Street ducks into an arcade, which immediately deafens you with a cacophony of beeps and honks, electronic character voices, and techno dance music. It’s an overstimulating nightmare so you focus on the leather-clad back of Street, who is leading you deeper into the room.
A couple of surly teens throw judgemental side eyes at the two of you, grown-ass adults screaming and shouting at basketball, skew-ball, and claw machines.
You clutch a small blue plushie, from Lilo and Stitch, courtesy of Street’s claw machine skills, as he whoops upon seeing another game, his childhood favorite.
“Yes! We have to play this next!” Street grins at you from ear to ear.
You hesitate for a split second, but shake your head, chuckling, “Okay NASCAR, wait for me!”
You tease him, knowing that Street’s name is all too fitting, his long history of all things on wheels that can go faster than 100 miles per hour is well known.
You sit behind the plastic wheel of the racing game as Street quickly punches in a couple quarters.
“Think you can keep up?” Street teases you immediately.
“Mhm.” You reply, your face dead serious, all traces of amusement long gone.
Street takes in your expression and furrows his brow.
“Oh shit!” He exclaims as you leave him in the dust, your digital car screeching as the wheels fight against the tight turns.
You’re silent, the only sounds are the quiet clicking of your foot pressing on the fake gas pedals of the game.
Your car peels around the track, going into the final lap, with a 3 second lead on Street.
“Oh my god, are you seriously drifting?” Street shouts in frustration, watching your vehicle slide sideways against the last tight turn and across the finish line with a flourish.
He smacks the wheel and laughs.
“That was crazy, Y/N. I didn’t expect you to be so good! I thought you said you didn’t really go to arcades growing up.”
“Can we go home?” You grab your jacket from the armrest of the racing game chair, turning away from Street.
“Uhh…yeah sure.” Street says slowly, confused.
You walk quickly out of the arcade, a mix of frustration, shame, and sadness filling you.
Hands clench into fists at your sides as you suck in a shaky breath, trying to steady your whirlwind of emotion.
Street half-jogs to catch up with you, calling your name. He reaches out a hand to grab your wrist, but the instant he makes contact you snatch your arm back abruptly.
“Don’t touch me!” You snap, more harshly than you intended.
Street’s face flashes confusion, hurt, and a bit of anger all at once. You see him stifle the urge to snap back at you, and instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slumped down and he quietly pleads with you instead.
“Talk to me, Y/N. Don’t keep it in again.”
You know you’re acting like an asshole and ruining the date. Street surprised you with being the mature one in this situation while you’re the one taking out your emotions on him.
So you slowly reach out to take one of his hands in both of yours. It’s warm, heavy, and sure in your grasp, a reassuring anchor. You clutch his hand close to your chest and duck your head down, unable to make eye contact.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just tell me what’s going on. Please?”
“It’s just—I’m not used to opening up like this.”
“I know. We’re learning how to, with each other.” Street slips his free hand under your chin, lifting your head up to kiss you affectionately on the cheek.
“Take your time.”
You sigh into his touch, releasing some of the tightness in your chest.
“Can we get ice cream first?”
Over a double scoop of cookies and cream, you confide in Street more of your life story.
How there was a period of time in middle school where you used to spend hours at the arcade after school to avoid going home.
Your parents were fighting constantly and you just couldn’t take all the screaming. Your older sister was in high school and worked part time, so she would drop you off with a handful of quarters and get you after.
For some reason, that racing game became your focus, your obsession. You channeled all your frustration, all your hurt, all your pain into that game.
It was your escape.
“It feels silly to freak out now. It’s been well over a decade since I’ve played that game.” You mumble into your ice cream.
“It’s not silly,” Street reassures you, “It’s a painful part of your life.”
You scrunch up your nose and murmur in agreement, not really wanting to think about it anymore. You take another lick of your ice cream, accidentally getting some on your cheek.
Street reaches out with a finger to wipe the smudge of the sticky treat off your face and instead of cleaning his hands on a napkin, he decides to lick it off instead.
You raise your eyebrows in surprise, the gesture unexpectedly sexy, but Street just chuckles.
“What? You taste good.”
You clutch Street by the collar of his leather jacket, slamming his broad back against the apartment door.
He drops the keys with a clatter, slides a free hand up to lock the door before gripping the back of your neck roughly, returning your desperate kiss.
“Y/N. Are you sure?” He releases your lips with a pant, pressing his forehead to yours and checking in with you.
Consent is so sexy, especially coming from him. Your previous boyfriends always took what they wanted, when they wanted, and you thought that’s how sex had to be.
It was only after being with Street that you realized how gentle, how considerate, and how trustworthy someone could be during sex.
Street treated you with respect, with reverence. He took his time to worship your body.
You were his queen, his goddess, and even if he didn’t say as much in words, he sure as hell showed it with his actions.
So yes.
You were fucking sure you wanted him.
You pulled off your clothes as you walked ahead of him towards your room, dropping fabric across the hallway on your way there.
Street followed quickly, stopping at the foot of your bed with his jeans still on. His chest visibly flushed red as he stared in wonder at your naked form. And he half-laughed, half-groaned out loud.
How did you manage to get your clothes off so quickly and look so damn delicious on the bed for him?
He grabs both of your ankles and drags you down, lifting them up above his shoulders so he can taste you.
You lean back on both elbows, your hair splayed across the sheets as you tip your head back in delight.
“Oh shit, that feels so good.” You breathe out, a moan slipping through your lips.
“Mmm, I can tell.” Street smiles into your pussy as he licks long strips up your core. He finds your clit within a few moments, and starts alternating sucking and licking the sensitive nub.
Your thighs start shaking as the stimulation shoots down your legs.
Street’s chin grows slick as your arousal throbs out of your core, but he simply holds down your thighs with his strong grip, and dives his tongue into your center even more.
It’s only when you spasm particularly hard, almost kicking him in the head that he finally releases you, chuckling as he swipes a thumb across his lips, wiping off some of your juices.
Your body is still twitching, your nerve endings shooting electricity from your core all the way down to your toes and you throw an arm back across your forehead, trying to recover.
“Come on, you can’t be done yet…” Street teases.
“Absolutely not.” You laugh out in a huff, “j-just…give me a minute.”
“Nah.”
Street lifts your legs again, this time crossing them behind his hips, so that he can line himself up to your entrance.
He pushes in slowly, but just the round head of his cock stretches your pussy to the point that you have to grab his arms and stop him.
“Hold on, Jim.”
Street freezes. You only call him by his first name when you’re being serious or something’s wrong.
He pulls out immediately and lifts you up into a sitting position. He immediately grabs your face in his hands, searching your eyes for pain.
“I’m so sorry, did I hurt you? We can stop— I didn’t mean to—“
You grip his wrists and gently remove them from your cheeks. Instead, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, your gaze at him soft and reassuring.
“I’m okay. Let’s try a different position.”
“Are you sure?”
You turn around, holding up your weight on your hands and knees, and spreading your hips back. You flip your hair over your shoulder and glance back at him with a smirk.
“You haven’t made me cum yet, have you?”
Slowly, Street’s concerned look spreads into a smile.
“No, I haven’t.”
“So fuck me.”
Street holds his cock steady while you carefully push back against him, controlling the pace.
When you’ve fully taken him in, now adjusted to his size, Street still hesitates.
“It’s okay. I’m ready now.” You brace yourself.
“Be as rough as you want.”
A sound akin to a growl escapes from the man who is balls deep in your pussy.
He places a bruising grip on your right shoulder and left hip, and slams you back, knocking the wind out of your lungs.
He does that again and again - pulling out almost all the way before slamming your body back against him almost violently.
“Oh fuck!” You yelp each time, your pussy throbbing around him.
Street then pushes your neck down, and you fist the sheets in your hands as you press into the bed, your ass in the air as he thrusts into you relentlessly.
You can hear your bottom smacking against his strong abs, as he swings his hips into you over and over.
And that cock, his huge, delicious cock, spears your pussy in just the right place every time.
“Oh my god, Street. That feels so good!” Your muffled voice can barely be heard over his grunting. God, you love it when men are loud during sex.
Before you know it, you’re close. Street must be too because he snakes a firm arm around your tummy and lifts you up, holding you tightly to his chest. Your core is still clenched in a vice grip around his member as he thrusts upward into your pussy.
“Street! Oh wow! You’re so big!” You praise him, feeling his cock hitting your cervix from his position.
“Yeah? You like it when my cock hits your pussy. Just. like. that?” Street punctuates his question with a hard bounce into you.
“Mmph!” You moan, and you grab his arm, still trapping you against his sweat-slicked body.
“Street,” you pant.
“Yeah?”
“Go faster.”
With a guttural groan, Street grabs the flesh around your hips and drills up into you. His cock drives in and out at a speed that could only be described as mechanical, a piston that pumps as deep as it could possibly go before pulling out and slamming back in as far as it can go.
You fall onto the bed again, unable to do anything but hold on far dear life as Street rails you like a rag doll.
Within seconds, you feel that familiar tingle spread from your core to your entire body, washing over you in waves of pleasure.
“Oh god— I’m cumming!” You scream, gasping for air.
You are answered with a growl as Street collapses on top of you, cumming inside your throbbing core, your pussy milking every last drop from his twitching cock.
Fuck, that was incredible.
After a few moments, you crawl out from under him, and stand up to head to the shower. He leans up on an elbow, watching you with a blissed-out smile. You tie your hair up into a messy bun, the simple action somehow sensual as hell as he sees your bare shoulder blades squeeze together as you reach up to your head.
You turn, catching him admiring you.
“What?” You ask, totally unaware.
“You’re beautiful.”
Your already hot skin somehow flushes even hotter at his words. You have a love-hate relationship with Street’s compliments.
So you just lean down and peck his cheek with kiss-puffed lips.
“Go to bed. We both have work tomorrow.” You whisper before pushing him back onto the mattress, shaking your head in laughter.
Your current reality is a universe away from yesterday’s date night with Jim Street.
You stare at his name on the phone, willing him to pick up.
“Y/N?”
Before you can explain to him, you hear the police radio in his car announce your school site and the bombing.
“Jim. I’m there.”
Street is speechless, the dots connecting with several torturous seconds as his worst fears become true.
One
You had told him that morning that you weren’t going into the office, but visiting a school today.
Two
You never call him, preferring to text. If it’s a call, something must be urgent.
Three
You almost never call him by his first name.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Hondo responds to the radio but Street barely hears it as he shouts into the phone.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“There’s been an explosion. A bomb? An AC unit fell through the roof. I’m trapped on the second floor.”
“Are you hurt?” Street repeats his question, desperation seeping into his tone.
Somehow you hesitate to tell him. So instead, you switch to video call and show him your leg.
Street’s eyes widen in horror as he sees the bloodied, crushed flesh.
Hondo glances at Street’s phone, his siren already screaming down the streets of LA.
“We’re coming.”
“You can’t keep me here, Hondo! Y/N is hurt, I have to get to her!”
“Street, you’re compromised. You’re gonna take risks and I can’t have you do that, not when there are kids here who need your head straight.”
Another sudden crash makes both men instinctually duck for cover. They had just arrived into a horror scene, with a blazing fire, fire trucks dousing the building with water, police holding back hysterical parents, ambulances treating kids and staff for smoke inhalation, and a soot-smeared principal talking to the fire marshal.
Hondo makes a beeline for her, Street on his heels.
“Sergeant Harrelson, LAPD SWAT. Is everyone accounted for?”
“Yes, all the kids and staff, but we’re missing one visitor, a social worker.”
Street chokes your name out, to which the principal nods, confirming that it’s you.
Meanwhile you breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Thank god everyone is safe.” You remark weakly, still on the phone, hearing their entire conversation.
Street is astonished you can think about others but his train of thought is interrupted when Chris in his comms crackles to life.
“There! I got eyes on the bomber! He’s on the roof, east side!”
“We have to go!” Street yells desperately.
“Okay.” Hondo huffs out, making a split second decision.
“Tan, go with Street and get Y/N out. Weapons hot, masks on, the bomber might run into the building. Deacon, you’re with me, let’s trap this rat.”
Street wastes no time running inside the smoke-filled building, his flashlight barely penetrating the ash and dust as he finds the stairs and runs up, Tan covering his back, sweeping his gun back and forth just in case the bomber decides to come their way.
“I’m coming, Y/N. Ten seconds out.” Street speaks into his comms, and his phone, for your benefit too.
But he doesn’t hear a reply.
“Shit!” Street curses. “She was losing a lot of blood, she’s not responding!”
Tan makes a game plan immediately as they keep running.
“I got the AC unit, you start CPR!” Tan shouts.
They skid to a stop at the destroyed classroom, and Street’s heart almost stops at the scene.
Your limp body, lying in a pool of dark blood, trapped under a giant hunk of metal, your phone still clutched in one hand.
Street kneels next to you, his own heartbeat reverberating loudly in his ears.
Thu-thump
He presses his fingers to your neck, feeling for a pulse while leaning down, trying to feel your breath on his face.
Thu-thump
Nothing. He immediately rips his smoke mask off his face and breathes into your mouth.
Once. Twice.
Thu-thump
He braces his hands against your chest and pushes down forcefully, starting CPR compressions.
Thu-thump
With a grating screech of metal, Tan manages to tip the AC unit off of you, revealing your upper thigh soaked in blood and your leg clearly broken in at least two parts.
Thu-thump
Street barely glances down to look, focusing on bringing you back to life. He feels for a pulse again, finally feeling a weak heartbeat, but a heartbeat nonetheless.
“She’s stable! Let’s get out of here!” Street shouts, throwing his smoke mask back on, and another for you.
Tan has already tied your leg down into two splints, one for your thigh, and another for your calf and ankle.
“Ready!” Tan replies in a voice muffled by his smoke mask, wiping his blood soaked hands on his tactical pants and gripping his gun again.
Street lifts you up, carefully draping your injured leg over his forearm, and cradling your concussed head gently against his shoulder.
He flies down the steps, Tan covering his back.
“This is 25-David, Y/N is secured, coming out of the school now.” Tan communicates to the team.
The moment they step out onto the front lawn of the school, their comms crackle again.
“Don’t do it man, don’t!” Hondo yells out. He must have found the bomber.
“Second bomb!” Chris warns, just as another explosion on the far side of the school collapses the roof completely, burying the spot where you were just trapped, and taking the bomber along with it.
“Hondo! Deacon! Chris!” Tan shouts into comms. The two of them shield you from the debris, holding their breath as they wait for a reply.
After a few moments, they hear Hondo coughing into the radio.
“20-David. We’re okay, we’re coming down.”
Street and Tan breathe a sigh of relief, as the EMTs run up to the three of you, carefully putting you on a stretcher.
Streets hurries alongside them, and jumps up into the back of the ambulance, glancing back at Tan.
“Go!” Tan shouts at him. “I got it covered.”
The last thing Street sees as the doors close is Tan standing with his back illuminated by a school on fire, his hands hanging at his sides, bright red with your blood.
Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !
Vision blurry, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to focus and notice the late afternoon sun streaming through plastic blinds in a white-washed room.
A hospital room. That’s right, you were injured in an explosion at the elementary school, and your leg…
You looked down to see a full cast, from thigh to ankle, keeping your leg locked straight. A thin, polyester blanket covers the rest of your body.
Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !
The insistent vibrating of a phone turns your attention to where a sleeping Jim Street, still in full SWAT gear, rests his head on his folded arms in the empty space on your bedside. One of his hands holds yours gently, even as he dozes.
You slip your hand out from his warm grip and brush his hair back, still flecked with a bit of ash and dust from the rescue mission.
Your gaze softens as you look at his peaceful face. You must have worried him so much with the accident.
Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !
You see his phone lying on the table and you can just make out what it says.
5 missed calls from Hondo. 2 texts from Chris and Tan saying he missed the debriefing.
And currently, Commander Hicks is ringing, ready to ream his ass for being irresponsible, you’re sure of it.
“Street.” Your voice cracks. Clearing your throat, you try again, louder this time.
“Street!” You shake his shoulder insistently.
He shoots up, awake in an instant. “Y/N! You’re up!”
His eyes dart over your face, checking for any signs of pain.
“You’re in trouble.”
Street takes one look at his phone and mutters “Shit.” Without thinking, he presses a kiss to your clammy forehead and ducks out the door, phone pressed to his ear.
You bring a tentative hand up to your forehead, a lot dazed and a little shocked. The two of you haven’t really discussed the nature of your relationship after that weekend of crazy sex, trying to take it slow.
But it’s not every day that you get gruesomely injured and your hot as fuck roommate rescues you from near death.
As you hear Street’s muffled apologies outside of your hospital room, fuzzy memories start coming back to you.
White letters of a SWAT vest hovering over you as firm hands push down on your weakening heart.
Strong arms holding you up as you feel yourself being carried down a flight of stairs at a ridiculous speed.
The smell of smoke, and the unmistakable smell of Jim Street as he cradles your head into his chest, keeping you safe.
A warm hand never letting go of yours as sirens squeal in the ambulance, your consciousness fading in and out.
A reassuring voice, his voice, telling you that you’re alright, that you're safe.
“I got you, Y/N. I’m right here.”
Fuck taking it slow.
You’re not a girl who normally falls in love with a man in an uniform but damn. You sure as hell get it now.
The door opens with a quiet click and Jim Street steps back inside.
“Hey—“
“I love you.” It comes out a little louder than a whisper. ”I love you, Jim.”
Street's words die in his throat as his eyes widen. He crosses over to you in two strides and simply lifts up your chin so that he can press a kiss to your lips.
A desperate, urgent, love-filled kiss that says just how scared, just how terrified he was to lose you.
And just how much he loves you too.
….
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