#i don't know what this means for tomorrow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seitmai · 2 days ago

Text

Many thoughts

“Better now that I’m taking you back to our place,” he said. There was that spring in his step again, like he was allowed to be happy since he knew you were really okay after walking home alone.

His happiness very much depends on her, and little too much if you ask me 🥴

When someone like Bucky had the kind of money he did, you imagined he’d drop just about anything to spend time with you and it wouldn’t make a dent in his pocketbook. Even if he lost everything tomorrow, it would be the same. Somehow you’d come first.

For sure

“Steve insisted on talking to you about that double date.” Bucky playfully rolled his eyes and refused to let his friend take the bags from his hands. He really didn’t want anyone else carrying your things or opening doors for you. “He’s stubborn, but you get used to it after a while.” “I’m stubborn?” Steve chuckled. “Pot meet kettle.”

Lol for real

“Well, we can talk about how excited Bucky is that you’re spending the night,” Steve teased. “I think she knows,” Bucky smirked, your cheeks hot. Did the whole gang feed into his delusion of what would happen if you stayed over?

I'm sure they do 🫠

“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Bucky assured you, cupping your cheeks. “She’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.” “For now, she is,” Steve muttered under his breath.

Geez 🥴

“We still don’t know the angle.” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “He could be doing it to show that can get to people close to you.” “Like you with Addison and Brady?” you asked. Nick was Brady’s boss now, and it was clear that it wasn’t a coincidence.

Nice call out lol

“How about I find a way to relax and still go out tomorrow?” you suggested. “You’re really determined to go. And here I thought Steve and I were the stubborn ones,” he smirked, guiding you into the penthouse. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room and I’ll put your stuff in the bedroom?”

She sure is and she should stay like that!

“Because you like being near me,” he said, your eyes rounding. “You slept beside me last night and you want to experience that again. Either that or being near me makes you feel safer than you want to admit.” You scoffed. “No, that’s…” You shook your head. “I mean, no. That’s just-” He gently smiled. “It's okay to admit. It'll be our secret.”

Oop👀

You tried not to choke up. It felt romantic, but you appreciated how thoughtful it was. “I…” You had to clear your throat. “I brought pajamas.” “I know, but I wanted to surprise you,” he smiled. “They’re your size and I think you’ll like them.”

That is actually very thoughtful

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched. “Of course I won’t. This is your relaxing time,” he promised, kissing your forehead again as you breathed easier. “And like I said, I have a few things to do.” You felt a little sheepish at his expression. “I’m sorry. I just…” “Nothing to apologize for. I don't blame you for double checking.” He patted your backside with a gentle hand. “Just enjoy your time.”

I mean is brought this distrust on himself 🤷🏻‍♀️

“Bucky, you didn’t have to-” “I don't have to do anything, but I wanted to. Do you like it?”

That's the spirit 🤭

“This is all thoughtful, but aren't I supposed to be making it up to you?” He frowned a little at your expression. “You being here is more than enough.” His fingers barely grazed your cheek. “Are you okay?”

👀

You avoided his gaze when you opened your eyes. “That’s all you want?” you asked. He hadn’t dragged you to bed once you arrived, but he also didn’t say that he didn’t want something. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip. “Well, I won’t lie to you. I want you, but I'm not pushing you. This is the first time you came to me willingly, and I want to cherish it.” You shivered at his touch. “Yeah, I did come here willingly,” you said. Sort of.

True...

“Stay home with me tomorrow,” he whispered, sitting up with you in his lap still. “We don’t have to go anywhere. We can spend the whole day together.” “No,” you said firmly. You were going out with your friends and that was final. “Send Ray or someone to watch over me. I’ll be back before you know it.”

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

You tensed and tried to push yourself up, but he grabbed you and situated you over one of his massive thighs. He had a firm hold on you and it made your heart pound. “I don't want you to be scared. I'll take such good care of you.” “I just… I’m not…” If he took you to bed, there’d be no turning back, and you had to maintain some control. “You’re not ready for that,” he stated, his eyes still dark. Shaking your head, it worried you how he’d take it. But he suddenly started moving you over his thigh, hard and slow. “Okay, Kotyonok. I won't put my tongue or fingers in you just yet, but I still want to make you feel good.”

I totally get that she wants to have at least a little bit control..

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, rocking you over his thigh again and sitting up, desperately pressing his lips to your neck. “You'll never have to beg for anything you want. Just ask or tell me and it's yours.”

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

And breathing hard, you surprised both of you by leaning in and kissing him. He let out a deep moan, kissing you back with everything he had as he held you closer. You were still shaking from your orgasm, and you could blame that for the reason why you kissed him. And he behaved, not letting his hands wander as his tongue moved with yours.

Ohh 👀

His smile confused you. “But… you didn’t…” you trailed off. He was hard in his pants, and you hadn’t gotten him off. You selfishly got yourself off on his thigh with his encouragement. “That doesn't matter,” he assured you, kissing the tip of your nose. “You trusted me enough to make you feel good.”

Ngl that's kinda hot 🤭

He tucked your head under his chin and wrapped one of the blankets around you. “I know you're still a bit scared and you don’t want to trust me, and that’s okay. It’s scary to let someone like me in after everything.”

That's actually really sweet 🥹

He rubbed your back and you noticed how relaxed he was. He was content to just hold you. Like an actual couple. Exactly what he wanted. And if he noticed a tear streaming down your cheek when you eventually fell asleep in his arms, he thoughtfully kept that to himself.

Uff what an ending 🥴

Hold You Tight: Part 17

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 16 | Series Masterlist | Part 18

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.9k

Chapter Summary: You take a step further in your relationship with Bucky.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon elements, dirty talk, thigh riding, tension, kissing, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, manipulation, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You tried to occupy yourself as you waited for Bucky to pick you up. You made sure you had your outfit for tomorrow and sent Addison a text to confirm when and where you were meeting. God, what if Bucky insisted on dropping you off? He likely would. There was no way he’d let you head over on your own, unless Ray or someone dropped you off.

“What am I doing?” you muttered.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you frowned. You had changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable. He would think you looked sexy no matter what you wore, even if you didn’t try. What was he going to expect or demand from you? There was no way you’d go through the entire evening in his home without him touching you or something.

You weren’t sure if the anticipation was worse or knowing he’d probably make your body enjoy whatever he’d do to you, and use that as a weapon against you.

The knock on your door made you jump. Had two hours passed already? You checked the peephole and saw Bucky on the other side, shifting from one foot to the other. At least he didn’t break his way inside like he could’ve easily done.

“Hi.” You slowly opened the door to let him in. “I-”

Bucky had you against the wall before you could finish, his lips insistently pressing against yours. The kiss only lasted seconds, but it felt like hours when he pulled away. “Don’t walk home alone again,” he whispered with a brief flash of fear in his eyes.

You nodded after a moment. The conversation from earlier was still on his mind, clearly. “I won’t.”

“You look beautiful by the way.” Taking a breath, he ran both hands through his hair and straightened up. He looked like his normal self again, and you knew it. No matter what he’d find you attractive. “Is this everything?” he asked, picking up the overnight bag and garment bag that you had left by the door.

“Yeah, it should be,” you said, making sure you had your phone and purse, too.

“Was the rest of your day okay?” he asked, watching carefully as you locked the door.

“It was fine,” you replied. You were so busy thinking about Bucky that you hadn’t thought much about Clark. “Was yours?”

“You don’t have to go to the club tonight?” you asked.

“Only if there’s an emergency. There’s no special event tonight, no reason to make an appearance, and my staff knows how to take care of the place,” he assured you. “Time with you is much more important than that.”

Once you were outside, you were surprised to find Steve standing by Bucky’s car instead of Ray. “Hi,” the blonde smiled with a row of perfect teeth.

“Hi,” you replied, stepping a bit closer to Bucky. Steve was his best friend, but you still didn’t know him well. What you did know was that he had his own woman he was stalking.

“I’m stubborn?” Steve chuckled. “Pot meet kettle.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bucky smiled, helping you into the car.

The interaction between the two of them was so natural and easy. You imagined that in another life they were decent men who fought for others instead of trapping them. “So, what exactly did you want to talk about?” you asked once you took off.

“Well, we can talk about how excited Bucky is that you’re spending the night,” Steve teased.

“I think she knows,” Bucky smirked, your cheeks hot. Did the whole gang feed into his delusion of what would happen if you stayed over?

“Did you want to talk about the double date?” you asked, hoping the topic switch would help.

“Well, my girl likes art and Bucky mentioned how you sometimes like to relax with a glass of wine,” Steve began, smiling at you in the mirror. “So, I was thinking, we could do one of those wine and painting classes. Just the four of us.”

“But if you didn’t want to do a painting, they do something similar with pottery where everyone can pick their own piece to paint,” Bucky said, slipping an arm over your shoulders.

“Dinner before the painting, too. It would be really nice for you two to talk,” Steve continued, tapping a finger on the steering wheel. “She’s a sweet girl with a big heart, but she doesn’t have many friends nearby like you do.”

“I mean, I’m fine with painting a canvas or pottery. I think we should let her choose since art is one of her passions.” Your heart went out to the girl. Was that why Steve set his sights on her? Did he feel like he was rescuing her in some sense? “And does she have a preference on wine? White or red? Sweet or dry? Maybe I can pick a bottle for her while I’m at the vineyard tomorrow.”

Steve glanced at you again in the mirror, impressed. “That’s very considerate of you,” he said, sharing a quick look with Bucky, too. “And she likes sparkling sweet wine.”

“I have a very considerate girl,” Bucky boasted, kissing your temple. “You really are thoughtful.”

“I try to be,” you whispered, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I’m sure Bucky will give me the details once it’s set up,” you said, not finding it in you to argue since you were outnumbered.

“He will,” Steve smiled, clearing his throat. “And now that we have that out of the way…”

“Really, punk?” Bucky asked, tightening his hand on our shoulder.

You sat up a little. All the warmth had left his voice, and he tensed up beside you. “What’s going on?”

“Tell her, Buck,” Steve urged.

You held your breath. Was this about earlier in the day when Ray spoke with Bucky? “Yes, please, tell me.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Mrs. Crandle wasn’t at work today, was she?” he asked as if he already knew the answer.

“No, she…” Your eyes widened. Kate said she called out for some business reason. “Oh, my god. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Bucky assured you, cupping your cheeks. “She’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“For now, she is,” Steve muttered under his breath.

“Just shut up and drive,” Bucky ordered when you gasped. “The reason she was suddenly out of work today was because of Zemo.”

Your heart sank. What the hell would Zemo want with Mrs. Crandle? “What do you mean?”

“From what we’ve gathered, he met up with her to tell her that she won an all expenses paid trip to a flower expo. She was shocked since she didn’t remember even entering the contest, but he told her someone anonymously registered her,” he explained. “He asked questions about some of her employees in case she wanted to bring anyone from her shop along and your name came up.”

“But why?” you asked. Why would Zemo make a contest just to talk to your boss?

“We still don’t know the angle.” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “He could be doing it to show that can get to people close to you.”

“Like you with Addison and Brady?” you asked. Nick was Brady’s boss now, and it was clear that it wasn’t a coincidence.

“Bucky doesn’t have his hand in the shop out of respect for you, and Zemo knows that,” Steve chimed in before Bucky could argue. “So it’s possible that he may be trying to butter Mrs. Crandle up before he makes an offer, whether it’s to offer some kind of protection or to buy out her shop completely.”

The thought of Zemo owning the shop where you worked or having his hand in it made your stomach turn. “She loves her shop, and she’s honest when it comes to business. She wouldn’t want someone stepping in or buying it,” you said, your breathing a bit heavier. “Is she in danger? Is something going to happen to her because of me?”

If something happened to Mrs. Crandle, you’d never forgive yourself.

“It isn’t because of you, Kotyonok. It’s his actions,” Bucky answered. Just like Bucky’s actions put you in the line of fire. “I hesitated telling you because we still need answers, but she’s safe. We also have someone keeping an eye on her, just to exercise caution.”

You exhaled. If Zemo was trying to scare you, it was working. “Please, don’t keep me in the dark,” you said. Even if it scared you, you had to know. “And Mrs. Crandle is one of the most harmless people in the city and the shop is all she has. If he-”

“We won’t let anything happen to her,” Bucky promised. It was a lot to promise. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say something this morning. I just wanted you to have a normal day.”

You understood part of Bucky’s reasoning. Telling you even when she wasn't in immediate danger would've thrown your whole day off. But what was a normal day now? “We deal with ups and downs every day. So just tell me next time something’s going on, especially if it involves someone important to me.” Ignorance isn't bliss in the world Bucky lived in.

He regarded you with a soft smile. “I will.”

You stayed quiet for the remainder of the ride while Bucky and Steve discussed dinner options for the double date night. It would’ve been endearing with how excited they were, had it not been for the fact that you and Steve’s girl didn’t exactly have a choice. What was going to happen at Thor’s party?

And what about your loved ones? Were they safe? You thought being by Bucky’s side would keep them safe from his wrath, but what if Zemo went after them? You had to trust that Bucky and his men wouldn't allow that to happen.

“You two have fun tonight,” Steve winked. “Try not to get too handsy, jerk.”

“What?” you asked, your throat dry once you realized you were at Bucky’s place. God, you were really there. There was no backing out.

“Just get in your car and go, punk,” Bucky chuckled, helping you out and grabbing your things. “He really is excited for you and his girl to become friends.”

“I’ll bet,” you said, giving Steve a small wave for his benefit.

You counted the number of steps from the car to the elevator. This was similar to when he brought you here the first time because you didn’t know what to expect. You weren’t sure if it was better or worse though knowing what you knew now.

“Where’s Ray?” you asked.

“He’s busy,” Bucky answered cryptically, sweeping his gaze over you. “You seem nervous. If you’d rather skip your day out tomorrow, I can help you find a few ways to relax.”

“How about I find a way to relax and still go out tomorrow?” you suggested.

“You’re really determined to go. And here I thought Steve and I were the stubborn ones,” he smirked, guiding you into the penthouse. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room and I’ll put your stuff in the bedroom?”

“Okay,” you breathed, hoping he didn’t notice you trembling as you walked through the place. It felt warmer than the last time you were there, more like the temperature that you kept at your place. And as dangerous as Bucky was, you somehow felt safe being there. Someone like Zemo wasn’t going to get in there. Clark wouldn’t either.

Rubbing your arms, you took a seat on the sofa. It was a beautiful room, but nothing like your living room. It wasn't just the difference in size, but you noticed once again that there were no nicknacks or homey touches. Maybe you could add a pop or color or even some flowers to… Oh, God. You were really thinking of how you’d decorate the place.

“You still look nervous,” Bucky said once he joined you, giving you absolutely no space as he took a seat. “You don’t have to be.”

“I’m not nervous,” you lied, biting your lip. “Okay, I am a little.”

He hummed. “Were you expecting me to drag you to bed?”

You nodded slowly. He behaved himself in the car with Steve there, but now the two of you were alone and you had no idea where Ray was. There was nothing to stop him from taking what he thought belonged to him.

“You thought sex would make it up to me because you walked home alone?”

“No,” you said immediately. You shouldn’t have to give him sex to say you’re sorry, especially when he had a much longer list of things he needed to apologize for. “I just thought this was a natural step in a relationship, you know? Spending the night together.”

A natural step would’ve been him staying at your place, too, but he was certain you would live at his place. And having him in your space, it didn’t feel the same. It was something you wanted to keep sacred.

��It is a natural step, but I don’t think you offered to stay here to make it up to me.”

His statement surprised you. That was part of the reason. If you made it up to him, he wouldn’t object to you going out with your friends. You weren’t going to bring up Clark or that the thought of being alone at your place made you nervous. “Then why else do you think I’m here?” you asked.

You scoffed. “No, that’s…” You shook your head. “I mean, no. That’s just-”

He gently smiled. “It's okay to admit. It'll be our secret.”

You shook your head again. Admitting that being in his arms wasn’t terrible and that his place did feel safer than yours at the moment would give him another win. “I'm not admitting anything.”

The smile on his face widened. “Is it because I'm right and you don't want me to be right?”

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said, standing and crossing your arms. “I should just go.”

“No, no, no. I’ll stop teasing. Please stay,” he nearly begged, getting to his feet, too. “How about I run you a bath and you can relax?”

“...A bath?” you asked. It wasn’t fair. He knew how much you loved taking baths.

He nodded. “A warm bath and a glass of wine, too.”

You uncrossed your arms, avoiding his hopeful gaze. It was a bit of a rough day, on top of a rough week. You deserved to relax. “Okay, that actually sounds really nice.”

He smiled and offered his hand. “I have bath bombs or salts if you want those, too. Anything to help you relax.”

“You have bath bombs?” you asked, your curiosity peaked. “What kind?”

“I have honeysuckle, lavender, vanilla,” he smiled softly. Each scent sounded like something that would help make the stress leave your body. “Let me show you.”

You let him lead the way you were pretty sure most of your apartment could fit inside the luxurious bathroom. The inviting tub almost made you burst into happy tears. It was nothing like your builder's grade tub. This was an honest to goodness clawfoot tub of your dreams.

“You like it?” Bucky smiled.

Blinking, you remembered Bucky saying how he wanted to fuck you in his tub. Would it be tonight? “I love it,” you admitted.

His smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’ll grab a tray and I can bring you a book if you want. Or you can just relax and enjoy your wine.”

“Well.” You thought it over. “I wouldn’t mind a book.”

Bucky nodded and brought the bath bombs out for you to choose from before he ushered you into the bedroom. “Why don't you stay here and pick one out while I'll get everything else you need?”

“Okay,” you said, holding your breath as you stared at the king sized bed. You avoided looking at it when he led you into the bathroom, but now you couldn’t help yourself. That was the bed he expected you to sleep with him in… the bed he’d fuck you and make love to you in. The satin sheets were a dark promise that he’d get everything he wanted and more.

Shaking your head, you carefully picked up each bath bomb and gave them a sniff. Each one smelled better than the last, and your eyes nearly rolled back at the one you selected. You wondered if he had these before you met or if he bought them specifically for you to have available.

Bucky came back after a minute and took your hand, guiding you back into the bathroom. “I’ve got everything all set.” The tub was steaming, candles were lit, and there was a generous glass of wine waiting on the tray with a book. “There's a robe on the back of the door, and I'll make sure fresh pajamas are ready for when you get out.”

You tried not to choke up. It felt romantic, but you appreciated how thoughtful it was. “I…” You had to clear your throat. “I brought pajamas.”

“I know, but I wanted to surprise you,” he smiled. “They’re your size and I think you’ll like them.”

“Thanks.” What other clothes did he have waiting for you? “What will you do while I'm in the tub?”

“I have a couple of calls to make.” He kissed your forehead. “And there's something else I want to set up for you.”

You shook your head. “I think this is more than enough,” you said honestly. He didn’t have to go to the trouble of setting this up. “But…” You fidgeted a little. “You promise you won’t just… barge in, right?”

This was still his home. He could easily make an excuse to go into his bathroom for whatever reason. And being naked in the bathtub, you’d be more vulnerable than normal.

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched. “Of course I won’t. This is your relaxing time,” he promised, kissing your forehead again as you breathed easier. “And like I said, I have a few things to do.”

You felt a little sheepish at his expression. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“Nothing to apologize for. I don't blame you for double checking.” He patted your backside with a gentle hand. “Just enjoy your time.”

With a small smile, he shut the door behind him. You waited a full minute after hearing his footsteps fade before you undressed and added the bath bomb to the tub. The scent brought a smile to your face before you tested the water temperature with your hand. It felt perfect, evident by your sigh once you got in.

You took your time sipping your wine as you began to read. Was this really going to be your bathroom now? Would you relax here after a rough shift or just because you felt like it? How many nights would Bucky insist on joining you?

But the man was, surprisingly, true to his word. He hadn’t disturbed you once. Even after you finished your glass and added more warm water to the tub, he didn’t knock or barge in. Even when you grudgingly got out of the tub and dried off before you pulled the plush robe on, he wasn’t sitting there waiting. Was he actually respecting your boundaries?

Peeking out into the bedroom, Bucky had laid out a pair of soft pajamas like he promised and was still nowhere to be seen. You were still quick to change so he couldn’t sneak a look at you. But where was he?

You thought of calling out when you went to search for him since the lights were dimmed all over the penthouse. Your fingers touched one of the walls. Would he ever hang a picture of his mom up or was it too painful?

Tiptoeing over to the balcony when you saw the door open, you spotted Bucky reading a book, too, and sipping whiskey from a tumbler. He looked completely at ease, lost in his own lonely world, and you weren’t sure if you should disturb him. Turning around, you wondered where you should go. Maybe you could curl up on the couch or something before he could-

“All finished in the bath?”

You froze and turned back toward him, his hair gently blowing in the breeze. “Yeah, sorry. I didn't know what to do when I was done, so I was going to wander around.”

He downed the rest of his glass and smiled. “You're welcome to wander, except into the den which is being redone.” He offered his hand again when he stood. “Did you enjoy your bath?”

“I did. That bath bomb was incredible,” you said. There was no reason to lie. “So was the wine.”

You gulped a little. Oh, god. You didn’t see him pour the glass. Why did you accept that from him? He could’ve put something in it. No, he wouldn’t. He wanted you to want him without that sort of influence.

“I'll get you more. The bath bomb and the wine.” he smiled, leading you back to the living room where he had pillows and blankets set up.

“Bucky, you didn’t have to-”

“I don't have to do anything, but I wanted to. Do you like it?”

You looked at the lush blankets and fluffy pillows. Like the bathroom, it looked like a dream. Looking back at him, you smiled softly at his once again hopeful expression. He carried himself with such confidence and didn't seem to care if he impressed others except for you. “I do. Thank you.”

He smiled, too, his whole face bright. “I thought it would be another good way to relax.”

The memory of Clark walking you home popped in your mind for some reason before you pushed it away. “This is all thoughtful, but aren't I supposed to be making it up to you?”

He frowned a little at your expression. “You being here is more than enough.” His fingers barely grazed your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You blinked and nodded. “I’m fine.”

Bucky considered you and you couldn’t help but fidget again when he pinned you with his gaze. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek and closed your eyes. “I just don't understand why you’re doing all of this.”

He could’ve been manipulating you again, but it actually seemed like he was trying to be a doting boyfriend without expecting anything in return. Your guard was down enough for him to worm his way in, and you all too easily accepted the kind gestures. Why were you making it easy for him?

“You mean setting up the blankets and pillows? I thought we could lay together and watch a movie. Or talk.” His fingers touched your cheek again. “Whatever you want.”

You avoided his gaze when you opened your eyes. “That’s all you want?” you asked. He hadn’t dragged you to bed once you arrived, but he also didn’t say that he didn’t want something.

He ran a thumb over your bottom lip. “Well, I won’t lie to you. I want you, but I'm not pushing you. This is the first time you came to me willingly, and I want to cherish it.”

You shivered at his touch. “Yeah, I did come here willingly,” you said. Sort of.

“And how do you feel being here compared to the first time?”

“Better,” you admitted. You weren’t completely terrified this time, and you also felt like you had some control over. Maybe not much, but some.

“Good. Now, shall we?”

You nodded and allowed Bucky to help you settle into the comfort of the pillows. He pulled you close, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been before. This felt more gentle. More… right.

It should’ve felt wrong.

The room was so quiet and all you could hear for a minute was the gentle sound of his breathing and his heart beating. “What's your favorite color?” you asked. “I don't think you've told me.”

You weren’t sure if you had taken the time to ask because, well, it hadn’t been a real relationship in your eyes. But you needed to know him. Call it acceptance or ammunition. Maybe both.

“Blue,” he answered, his hand absentmindedly moving along your side.

“And your birthday?”

“March 10th.”

“Wait, you're a Pisces?” you smiled a little. “That explains so much.”

He smiled down at you and chuckled. “Oh, does it now?”

You laughed lightly. “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re just… you know…” He raised an eyebrow and waited for you to finish. “Emotional.”

“I can't argue with that,” he smiled, leaning in a bit. “Does it explain anything else?”

“Well, you're…” You were a little distracted as he kept rubbing your side. “Intense. Passionate. You want to be close to the person you fall for.”

He fit that to a tee.

His darkened eyes made you lose your breath. “I can’t argue with that either,” he whispered, pulling you close without hesitation and fusing your mouths together.

Bucky held you tight and rolled you over so you were on top of him, his hands skimming your thighs as he made you straddle him. A small sound escaped when he brushed against you, your heart pounding in your ears. “Bucky-”

“Stay home with me tomorrow,” he whispered, sitting up with you in his lap still. “We don’t have to go anywhere. We can spend the whole day together.”

“No,” you said firmly. You were going out with your friends and that was final. “Send Ray or someone to watch over me. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Please?” he asked, thrusting his hips up. “I’ll make it worth your while if you skip.”

Natasha’s words crossed your mind, reminding you that you had power. But a sinking feeling washed over you because that power had to come from your body, right? You shouldn’t be expected to give him sex, but you could give him something to hold him over. Pushing the dread away, you could hate yourself later for it. “You can spend time with me when I get back,” you offered, grinding your hips against his. “I’ll be all yours.”

The sickening feeling you expected when he moaned didn’t come. “You promise?” he murmured.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, grinding your hips again. “You can even drop me off at Addison’s, and I’ll let you know when I get back to my place. I promise.”

“Okay, Kotyonok,” he groaned, his hands grabbing your waist. Your triumph didn’t last long. “Keep doing that and I’ll pay for all the bottles of wine you want, too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Let me touch you. Please, just let me make you feel good,” he half begged, half demanding between kissing you again. He truly hungered for you. “I'll make you feel amazing if you just let me touch you.”

You took a deep, shaky breath. How far would he take it if he touched you? No, you had to stay in control. “You are touching me.”

“Let me take you to bed. I'll eat your pussy so good you'll cry.”

“I just… I’m not…” If he took you to bed, there’d be no turning back, and you had to maintain some control.

“You’re not ready for that,” he stated, his eyes still dark. Shaking your head, it worried you how he’d take it. But he suddenly started moving you over his thigh, hard and slow. “Okay, Kotyonok. I won't put my tongue or fingers in you just yet, but I still want to make you feel good.”

You made a small sound, trying to get your body to relax. You had never ridden anyone’s thigh before and you hadn’t pictured it like this. But the blissful look on his face, he looked like he was in heaven.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you? Especially like this,” he praised.

“I…” you whimpered. “I’m not-”

“Yes, you are,” he growled, tightening his grip. “And you deserve to feel good. My girl deserves whatever she wants.”

Your hands flew to his shoulders when he flexed his thigh, sending an unexpected shock through your entire body. “Oh, my God,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

“That felt good, right?” he asked, watching you with lidded eyes. “You want me to keep going? Make you come all over my pants?”

You whimpered when he held you still, unsure it was his dirty talk or the slight edging that had you trembling. “Bucky…”

“Tell me, Kotyonok,” he ordered, licking his lips and relaxing back into the blankets and pillows. “Tell me you want me to keep going and I will.”

You looked deep into his eyes. There was so much fire in them and it was burning for you. Your breath caught as he flexed his thigh again and you found yourself nodding. “Please, Bucky. Keep going.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I said,” he whispered, sliding his tongue along your lips. “Tell me.”

You swallowed hard, your core throbbing. “I want you to keep going,” you breathed.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as your nails dug into his shoulders, feeling his thigh getting wetter beneath you. “Please…” you whispered, unsure of what exactly you were asking for. Mercy? To be put out of your misery? You could ask for anything except for freedom.

“Still begging when you don't have to.” He chuckled affectionately. “You’re so sweet.”

The pleasure building inside you was bittersweet. Sexual acts were, in your eyes, something to bring you closer together. What would he want next? What would you want next?

“Fucking yourself on my thigh. Wait ‘til you fuck yourself on my cock,” he gruffly spoke, your walls clenching around nothing when he lightly nipped over your pulse. “Just let go if you want. Make a mess for me.”

You were breathless from how close you were. “Do… that again,” you said, unable to let yourself feel embarrassed in the moment.

Bucky nipped your neck again and smiled when you moaned. “Fuck, that’s my beautiful girl. Doing so good for me, telling me what you want,” he said gruffly, dragging you faster along his thigh. “Now I want you to come for me.”

Your mouth fell open when he rocked you faster and bit down once more, hard enough that something inside you snapped. It didn’t just snap, you shattered. You saw stars. You couldn't stop it.

“There you go. Coming just for me,” he smiled, burying his face in your neck. “Fuck, you got my thigh all wet. Just ride it out. Good girl.”

Your face burned and you wanted to hide once you slowed down, but he wouldn’t let you when he lifted his head. He looked so happy, like a cat who got the cream. Your release dripped from your pussy and soaked your pajamas and his pants. You let him get you off.

And breathing hard, you surprised both of you by leaning in and kissing him.

He let out a deep moan, kissing you back with everything he had as he held you closer. You were still shaking from your orgasm, and you could blame that for the reason why you kissed him. And he behaved, not letting his hands wander as his tongue moved with yours.

He kept his mouth close to yours when you pulled back. The orgasm surprisingly helped you relax, but it worried you, too. Had you pushed too far with what you just did? Would he want more? You couldn’t let him in, and you weren’t ready to let yourself fall for him after everything. Not yet.

“Um, thanks,” you said, unsure of what to say to break the tension.

“Thank you,” he smiled.

His smile confused you. “But… you didn’t…” you trailed off. He was hard in his pants, and you hadn’t gotten him off. You selfishly got yourself off on his thigh with his encouragement.

“That doesn't matter,” he assured you, kissing the tip of your nose. “You trusted me enough to make you feel good.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “But that’s… No. I…” You just wanted a bit of time with your friends, it wasn’t about trust. Was it? How could you trust this man?

You shut your eyes to hold back tears. He had scared you from the moment you met, but you wouldn’t say you were completely scared of him right now. Not really. You didn’t know how you felt.

That was what scared you.

“Will someone keep an eye on my place while I’m out tomorrow?” you asked curiously, hoping the question didn't sound weird. You just didn't want Clark snooping around, and you didn't want Bucky worked up if you mentioned him.

��I have safety measures in place,” he replied. “Do you feel safe here?” he asked above a whisper.

“Yes,” you replied. You felt safe and in danger all at once. It was a strange feeling.

“Good,” he whispered. “Hey. Maybe you can spend the night tomorrow, too? We’ll do a movie night.”

“Maybe,” you whispered, your heart finally starting to slow to a steady rate. “And pizza.”

“Pizza and a movie? It’s a date,” he smiled. “We can talk about redecorating the place, too. Make it a real home for us.”

“A real home,” you whispered, knowing full well you were home for Bucky.

He rubbed your back and you noticed how relaxed he was. He was content to just hold you. Like an actual couple. Exactly what he wanted.

And if he noticed a tear streaming down your cheek when you eventually fell asleep in his arms, he thoughtfully kept that to himself.

So, that happened. It could've been... worse? He's wearing his girl down, isn't he? How are things going to be in the morning? Will he leave you be when you're with your friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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wlwsoccerfics · 1 day ago

Text

Wife Vs Wife (StephCatleyXFoordReader)

Summary: you Play for Manchester United while your wife plays for Arsenal. You have to play against one another and things don't end well.

Warnings: head injuries,blood

You sat in the changing rooms, headphones on. Listening to your pre game playlist. It was a mix of songs to hype yourself up and songs that helped you find your focus.

Ella sat down next to you. Watching you. There was something different about you today. She tapped you on the shoulder gently.

"y/n?" She asked. You took your headphones off and put them aside.

"yes, Tooney?" You asked her.

"are you okay? You seem a bit...Off today!" She told you. You sighed softly.

"what can i say, i don't like playing against Steph! I know it's Part of the Job but still..." You admitted. Ella gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"you don't mind playing against Caitlin but you stressed about your wife? That's cute!" She told you and you rolled your eyes at her playfully.

The changing room filled with the rest of the Team soon. You guys talked about tactics before it was time to wam up. Which you did with Ella as your partner. Glancing over at your wife and your sister for a moment before your focus was back on warming up.

The game started and it got intense right away. You and Katie got into really heated one vs one situations, pushing eachother and yelling at one another. Kinda funny. Given that you are actually great Friends and she is dating your sister Caitlin. Both of you got yellow cards. Tooney scored an amazing Goal which meant you took the lead. By half time it was 1-0.

You walked back into the Tunnels and back into the changing rooms.

"that was intense!" Maya said, looking at you. You nodded your head.

"it sure was!" You agreed.

"at least Katie distracted you from the fact that you are playing against Steph!" Ella answered. You turned to look at her and frowned.

"yeah i forgot about it...until you mentioned it!" You said and sighed softly.

" i have to play against my best friend as well, so i get it!" She replied. You chuckled a bit at that.

"Tooney you and Alessia are besties so that's different. I mean Steph is my wife! I married her! We have different dynamic then you have with Lessi!" You answered and giggled softly.

The second half started soon and things were intense once again. You and Katie gave eachother hell again. Kyra scored a goal for Arsenal in the 78th Minute. So it was 1-1 now. In the 87th Minute you got a Corner. So you standing by the second Goal Post, your wife was close, so was Katie. You tried to get the ball in with a Header and Steph tried to get it out of the danger Zone. Both of your head collided at that and you both fell to the floor. No one really cared in that moment that the ball got in cause Steph was groaning in pain, tears in her eyes holding her head and you were passed out, a small cut under your right eye was bleeding.

"Babe?" Steph asked. Trying to sit up but couldn't see cause she was dizzy. The medics running over to you. Both Teams forming a circle around you to shield you and Steph from the cameras and Fans.

"Steph, don't move. You might have a concussion." Leah told her. Worried about you and her teammate. Caitlin was kneeling down next to you, tears in her eyes. Fear was evident in the way she looked at you as well. But you didn't knew cause you were out like a light.

"she is unconcious!" Caitlin sobbed out which sent shivers down stephs back.

"what?! Babe please wake up!" She sobbed out. The medics keeping her down when she tried to move. Cause she had a concussion.

You woke up after around a 40 Seconds and turned your head to the side. Throwing up. Yes you had a concussion as well. And the cut under your eye needed to be glued back together. It for sure was gonna be a black eye by tomorrow.

Both you and Steph were taken off the pitch and brought to the hospital for some CT Scans. You both needed to be watched over at night which Caitlin offered to do and Katie was gonna help.

The Game ended with 2-1 win for you Guys.

Caitlin stayed at your place with Katie. You were thankful for that cause that way you were allowed to leave the hospital.

"you look like Shit! Both of you do actually!" Caitlin told you & Steph. You tried to laugh but quickly stopped yourself cause laughing hurt your head too much.

"good thing we look like shit together, right Babe?" You said softly.

"Catley what are you talking about? You Look hot!" She told you. "No matter what!" She added.

"so do you Catley!" You replied to your wife and gave her a small kiss.

"disgusting!" Katie said, making fake gagging noises. But she was only teasing of course.

"but for real, the two of you gave me a Heart Attack." Caitlin admitted.

"sorry." You mumbled out already drifting off to sleep.

"She is gonna hate that we have to wake her every 30 minutes. Same goes for you Steph. So don't get to comfy." Katie whispered out. Steph frowned a bit and then cuddled up to you.

"See you in 30 minutes then." Steph told your sister and Katie before falling asleep as well. You two holding one another. You both slept peacefully on the couch. Well as peacefully as possible in that Situation because Katie and Caitlin took turns to wake you up every 30 minutes. Which sucked cause your head and face were killing you but thankfully you were due for another round of painkillers around 1am. Which both you and Steph took happily.

One good thing came with the concussion. You and Steph had to take two weeks off of Football practice so you had some time for eachother. Which you spend cuddling, going on walks and believe it or not talking about adopting a child.

#woso x reader #steph catley x foord reader #katie mccabe x reader #caitlin foord x foord reader #ella toone x reader #Manchester United x reader

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mrsfancyferrari · 1 day ago

Note

Hey I hope you've having an amazing day/evening/night. This is my first time requesting something😅, and I was wondering if you could possibility write something like what you did with my type but the reader having natural auburn curly hair, with freckles thinking that she's not his type or something along those lines.

Gold in Snow

Summary: you and lando are in a relationship but you're reserving hate comments about you being a ginger, with freckles because the fans don't think you're his type

Song: Golden Hour · JVKE

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 5.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The roar of the crowd was deafening. Another podium finish for Lando, another shower of champagne soaking his expensive suit. You watched from the relative calm of the garage, a small smile playing on your lips.

He looked genuinely happy, and that, more than anything, made the constant noise and pressure of Formula 1 palatable.

You’d been dating Lando Norris for almost a year now. A year of stolen moments, whispered secrets in hotel rooms, and navigating the chaotic whirlwind that was his life. A year of pure bliss…mostly.

The “mostly” came in the form of comment sections. Forums. Twitter threads dedicated to dissecting every pixel of your existence and comparing it to the accepted prototype of a WAG – Wives and Girlfriends – in the F1 world.

You were… different.

They’d say it with a thinly veiled, almost clinical detachment, but the message was always the same: you didn’t fit. You were too… ginger. Too freckled. Too… you.

The ginger part bothered them the most. Lando was a global superstar, practically sculpted from marble, with a smile that could melt glaciers. He was everything they wanted him to be: conventionally attractive, charming, and effortlessly cool.

And you? You were… well, very, very pale. Your hair was a fiery halo, and your skin was dotted with a constellation of freckles that bloomed fiercer in the summer sun.

“He likes the exotic look,” one comment had sniped. “She’s probably got a killer tan when she’s not hiding in the shade.”

You’d chuckled then, a hollow sound that didn’t quite reach your heart. Exotic? You’d spent your life battling sunburns and jokes about having no soul.

And killer tan? Honey, you burned so fast, lifeguards would start applying sunscreen just by looking at you.

You tried to ignore it. Lando certainly seemed to. He showered you with affection, praised your quick wit and sharp mind, and constantly reminded you how beautiful he found you, flaws and all.

But the insidious comments burrowed under your skin, planting seeds of doubt that you desperately tried to weed out.

You saw him heading towards the garage now, adrenaline still buzzing through him. His eyes found yours, and that signature Lando grin spread across his face. Your heart did that familiar little flip.

“Hey!” he said, pulling you into a hug. He smelled of champagne and victory. “Did you see that last overtake? Unbelievable!”

You laughed, burying your face in his still-damp fire suit. “Yes, I saw it. You were amazing, as always. Just try not to spray me next time, okay?”

He pulled back, his brow furrowed. “You okay? You seem… quiet.”

You forced a smile. “Just tired. It’s been a long weekend.”

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. “Well, we’re flying back tomorrow morning. We can just chill in the hotel tonight. Order some room service, maybe watch a movie?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said, meaning it. Just the two of you, away from the cameras and the judgment.

That night, as you lay in his arms in the dimly lit hotel room, the familiar ache in your chest returned. You couldn't shake the feeling that you were somehow… undeserving.

“Lando?” you whispered, the sound barely audible above the hum of the air conditioning.

“Hmm?” He nuzzled into your hair.

“Do you… do you ever read the comments? About us?”

He stiffened slightly. “I try not to. You know how toxic that can be.”

“But you do read them, right? Sometimes?”

He sighed, a heavy sound that vibrated against your chest. “Okay, yeah, sometimes. But I don’t pay any attention to them. They’re just… noise.”

“Noise that says I’m not good enough for you.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them.

He pulled back, his eyes searching yours in the dimness. “What? That’s ridiculous. Who says that?”

“Everyone. Online, anyway. They don’t think I’m your type. They think I’m… too ginger. Too freckled. Too… plain.”

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones. “Hey. Look at me. You are absolutely stunning. Inside and out. You are intelligent, funny, kind, and you have the most beautiful smile in the world. And yes,” he added with a mischievous grin, “I also happen to think your hair is gorgeous, and your freckles are like little constellations scattered across your skin. They’re unique, just like you.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. “But they say…”

“They say a lot of things. People are always going to have opinions. But their opinions don’t matter. Only mine does. And I think you are perfect.”

He leaned in and kissed you, a slow, tender kiss that chased away the doubts, at least for a moment.

But even as you melted into him, a small, insidious voice whispered in the back of your mind: He’s just saying that. He has to say that.

The knot in your stomach tightened with each passing day, each new photo plastered across social media. You and Lando, laughing at a restaurant, holding hands at the airport, just being normal.

What shouldn't have been a cause for concern, was. It should have been a happy bubble of romance, but it was quickly becoming a breeding ground for anxiety, a place where your insecurities festered and grew.

Because under each picture, nestled amongst the supportive comments and heart emojis, they lurked. The whispers, the not-so-subtle digs.

"He could do so much better." "She's not even his type." "Another generic influencer." And the worst of it? "Ginger + Freckles = No."

You knew it was irrational. Lando loved you. He told you every day, showed you in a million little ways, from the way he held your hand to the way he looked at you with genuine adoration.

But the internet had a way of burrowing into your brain, planting seeds of doubt that blossomed into thorny vines. You found yourself scrutinizing your reflection, picking apart every freckle, every strand of your fiery hair.

Was it too much? Was it enough? Were you enough?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Lando's voice startled you, pulling you back from the precipice of your spiral. He was standing in the doorway of your shared flat, his racing helmet tucked under his arm, a familiar mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"Just thinking about this weekend," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "Excited for the snow."

"Me too! Max and Steve are already counting down the hours. You're coming to the slopes tomorrow, right?"

You hesitated. "I… I have something I need to do in the morning. I'll meet you guys up there later, okay?"

Lando frowned, his blue eyes searching yours. "Everything alright, love? You seem a bit off."

"I'm fine," you insisted, forcing a smile. "Just… a doctor's appointment. Nothing serious. I'll explain later. Promise."

He didn't look convinced, but he knew better than to push. "Alright. Just text me when you're on your way. Drive safe.”

He kissed your forehead, the warmth of his touch a brief comfort against the chill that had settled within you and left.

The next morning, the drive to the snow mountains felt endless. Each mile was another step closer to the potential storm brewing in your head.

You told yourself you were being ridiculous, that you were letting faceless strangers dictate your feelings. But the seed of doubt had been planted, watered, and was now taking root.

When you finally arrived at the ski resort, the crisp mountain air did little to soothe your nerves. You walked into the reception area, the scent of pine and hot chocolate thick in the air.

"Name?" the receptionist asked, her eyes glued to the computer screen.

"It's… uh… Y/L/N, party of Lando Norris."

The receptionist's fingers clicked across the keyboard, and she looked up, a polite professional smile gracing her lips. "Ah, yes. Mr. Norris's party. You're all set. Here's your lift pass. Your equipment rental is just through those doors. Have a wonderful day."

You collected your ski boots and poles from the rental shop, the familiar weight grounding you slightly. You'd been skiing since you were a kid, practically born on the slopes.

It was one of the few places you felt truly free, truly yourself.

You strapped on your skis and headed towards the main lift, scanning the crowd for a flash of Lando's familiar McLaren Racing beanie or the boisterous laughter of Max and Steve.

The lift carried you higher and higher, the view expanding to reveal a breathtaking panorama of snow-covered peaks and pristine valleys.

For a moment, the internet, the comments, the doubts, all faded away. You breathed in the crisp air, feeling the thrill of anticipation course through you.

As you reached the top, you spotted them. Lando, grinning and waving, Max, already carving down the slope with reckless abandon, and Steve, carefully navigating the beginner trail.

You took a deep breath, pushed off, and let gravity do its work. The wind whipped through your hair, the sun glinted off the snow, and for the first time that day, you felt a genuine smile spread across your face.

You were good. Really good. You weaved and turned, carving graceful arcs in the powder, your ginger hair a vibrant streak against the white landscape. You glided past other skiers, feeling the rush of adrenaline as you navigated the slopes with practiced ease.

You found yourself on a black diamond run, moguls stretching out before you like frozen waves. This was where you belonged, where you felt alive. You took a deep breath and launched yourself into the challenge, navigating the bumps and dips with precision and skill.

Suddenly, you heard a whoop of excitement and a familiar voice. "Wow, check out the ginger ninja!"

You glanced over your shoulder and saw a couple of guys, clearly impressed by your skiing skills.

You grinned, threw them a wink, and continued your descent, the compliment a small spark of warmth against the doubt that still lingered.

The crisp mountain air bit at Lando’s cheeks, painting them a matching shade to the gaudy orange ski suit Max insisted he wear. He shifted his weight from one ski boot to the other, impatience radiating off him in visible waves.

He’d been waiting at the base of the slope for what felt like an eternity. Max was already halfway up the mountain for his third run. Steve was content to nurse a lukewarm hot chocolate and offer unsolicited advice on Lando’s form, despite the fact Lando hadn't even put his skis on yet.

"She's taking her time," Steve commented, taking another careful sip. "Probably intimidated by the black runs."

Lando rolled his eyes, though fondness softened the gesture. He knew you weren't intimidated by anything. This was more than likely your first time on the slopes, so you were probably taking it easy.

You were a natural athlete, thriving on competition, but you’d also confessed, with a sheepish grin, that skiing looked deceptively easy on TV.

He was about to tell Steve as much when Steve suddenly straightened, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, there's your girl!"

Lando spun around, instantly forgetting the cold, the wait, and Steve’s irritating commentary. He searched the throng of skiers snaking down the slope, his heart doing a little skip. And then he saw you.

You moved with a surprising grace, your skis carving effortless arcs in the snow. Sunlight caught in your fiery red hair, turning it into a cascade of glittering copper. Each freckle seemed to dance on your skin, illuminated by the mountain sun.

He knew, objectively, that you were beautiful. He saw it every day. But seeing you now, flushed with exertion and radiant with joy, took his breath away.

He froze, utterly captivated, as you approached. You navigated the final stretch with smooth confidence. “Show off,” he muttered under his breath, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You slowed to a stop, kicking up a spray of snow just inches from his boots.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, laughing. You pushed your goggles up onto your forehead, revealing eyes the color of warm honey. "Sorry! How long have you been waiting?"

Your cheeks were rosy, your breath misting in the cold air. Lando stared, speechless.

"Baby? What's wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing with concern. You reached out, your ungloved hand gently touching his cheek. The cold stung, but he barely noticed.

He swallowed, his voice a low rasp. "You're beautiful."

The words were a whisper, almost lost in the wind. He hadn’t meant to say it so abruptly, so…exposed. But the sight of you, framed by the snow-covered peaks, had rendered him incapable of coherent thought.

Your eyes widened slightly, and a blush bloomed on your cheeks, a delicate counterpoint to the healthy glow of the mountain air. "Lando," you said softly, "you okay? Are you coming down with something?"

He blinked, shaking himself slightly. "No, I'm fine. More than fine, actually. You just…you look incredible."

Steve coughed pointedly beside him. Max, having apparently teleported from the top of the mountain, snickered. Lando shot them both a warning glare. They knew how self-conscious you were, especially around his racing colleagues.

The comments section of his social media had been a cesspool ever since you two became public. Hateful words about your appearance, thinly veiled as concerned opinions that you weren’t “his type,” were a constant, ugly background noise.

He knew it bothered you, even though you tried to brush it off with a laugh and a casual, "Haters gonna hate." But he saw the flicker of hurt in your eyes when you thought no one was looking.

He hated those comments, hated the people who wrote them, and hated that they had the power to make you feel anything less than extraordinary.

He took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. "Ignore them," he said, his voice firm, his gaze locked on yours.

You looked confused. "Ignore who? Max and Steve?"

"Everyone," he said, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. "Anyone who makes you feel like you're anything less than perfect. Because you are. Perfect. Just the way you are."

The blush on your cheeks deepened, and you ducked your head slightly, a shy smile playing on your lips. "You're sweet," you mumbled. "But I know I'm not everyone's cup of tea."

"Good," Lando said fiercely. "You're mine. And that's all that matters." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, ignoring Max's exaggerated gagging noises.

He pulled back and met your gaze, his expression serious. "Listen to me. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're not beautiful, or that you're not good enough, or that you don't belong. Because they're wrong. They’re absolutely, unequivocally wrong. You’re amazing, inside and out. You’re kind, you’re funny, you’re fiercely intelligent, and yes, you’re unbelievably beautiful. And I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have you."

A tear, born of emotion and the biting wind, escaped your eye. "You're going to make me cry," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

"Good," Lando said, wiping the tear away with his thumb. "Let them see you cry. Let them see how real and how beautiful you are. Don't hide anything. Don't let anyone dim your light."

He knew his words were bold, maybe even a little cheesy, but he meant every single one of them. He wanted you to know, deep down, that he saw you, truly saw you, and that nothing anyone said would ever change that.

Max, surprisingly, had stopped snickering. He clapped Lando on the shoulder. "Alright, mate, enough with the declarations of love. Let's hit the slopes. Before I get frostbite."

Steve nodded in agreement. “He’s right, Lando. You can gush later. Right now, let’s see if your girl’s got what it takes.” He winked at you. “No pressure.”

You smiled, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Pressure is my middle name," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let's go."

Lando grinned, relieved to see the familiar spark back in your eyes. He squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.

He watched as you adjusted your goggles and clicked your poles into the snow. He felt a surge of pride watching you. He knew the comments would still be there, lurking in the shadows of the internet, waiting to pounce.

But he also knew that you were strong. You were resilient. And you had him.

He grabbed his own skis, a newfound confidence coursing through him. He would protect you, always. But more than that, he would celebrate you, every freckle, every fiery strand of hair, every brilliant facet of your being.

As you pushed off, gracefully navigating the gentle slope, Lando felt a lightness in his heart that had nothing to do with the altitude. He knew, without a doubt, that their love story was just beginning, and he couldn't wait to see where it would take them.

He followed you down the slope, his orange ski suit a beacon against the white snow. He caught up to you easily, skiing alongside you, matching your pace.

"So," he said, grinning mischievously. "Think you can keep up with me, ginger?"

You laughed, a bright, joyful sound that echoed through the mountains. "Try me, Papaya boy."

And with that, you kicked it up a notch, leaving Lando in your snowy wake.

He laughed, his heart soaring.

He pushed off, determined to catch up, knowing that even if he never did, he would be perfectly content just to chase you, forever. . . .

The papaya coloured dress hung on you, a vibrant splash of sunshine in the sterile white bathroom. It was Lando’s favourite colour, or so he claimed. He said it reminded him of McLaren, of speed, of… you.

But all you could see in the mirror was a canvas of imperfections.

Your reflection stared back, a stranger dissected and judged. The fiery red hair, usually a source of pride, now felt like a neon sign screaming "OUT OF PLACE."

The constellation of freckles scattered across your nose and cheeks, tiny sun-kissed stars Lando often traced with his fingertip, seemed like blemishes, flaws magnified under the harsh bathroom light.

The original plan, a simple elegance of no-makeup and loose waves, lay discarded. You'd envisioned a carefree evening, a confident entrance with Lando by your side.

Now, the thought of facing the public, the prying eyes, the inevitable whispers, felt like climbing a mountain of anxiety.

Social media had been a minefield lately. Ever since your relationship with Lando Norris became public, the comment sections had become a breeding ground for toxicity. Most were overwhelmingly supportive, celebrating your love.

But a persistent undercurrent of negativity gnawed at your confidence. The "fans," or rather, the internet trolls masquerading as them, were relentless.

“She’s not his type.”

“He could do so much better.”

“Ginger? Really? He's lowering his standards.”

The worst were the comments picking apart your appearance. The freckles, the hair, the perceived lack of "glamour." They painted you as an anomaly, someone who didn't belong in Lando's world. It was absurd, of course.

Lando loved you for you. He told you every day. But the insidious nature of online hate was that it seeped in, whispering doubts in your ear when you were most vulnerable.

Tonight, facing a McLaren party filled with glamorous personalities and industry insiders, the doubts had reached a crescendo. You grabbed a tissue from the dispenser, dabbing at the corners of your eyes, fighting back the overwhelming urge to cry.

The reflection in the mirror blurred, the colours swam, and the vibrant papaya felt like a mocking reminder of everything you weren't.

That’s when you heard the familiar click of the front door.

“Y/n?” Lando’s voice echoed through the house, a warm, comforting sound that momentarily cut through the anxiety clouding your mind.

Panic seized you. You couldn't let him see you like this, a mess of insecurities and mascara-smeared cheeks. You needed to compose yourself, to build up a façade of confidence before facing him.

Quickly, you turned the small lock on the bathroom door. The click was loud in the sudden silence.

“Y/n?” he called again, his voice closer now. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just… just getting ready,” you managed, trying to inject a lightness into your tone that felt utterly fake. Your voice wavered, betraying your true state. “I’ll be out in a second.”

You heard him pause outside the door. “You sure? You sound… different.”

He knew you too well. He always did. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears away. “Just a bit of a headache. Nothing serious.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment, thick with unspoken concern. You could almost feel his presence on the other side of the door.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice softening. “But don’t rush. I’m happy to wait. Do you want me to get you some water?”

His thoughtfulness, his unwavering care, only made the guilt swell inside you. He was so genuine, so supportive, and here you were, hiding from him, consumed by the petty insecurities fueled by strangers on the internet.

“No, I’m fine,” you insisted, a little too quickly. “Just… give me a few more minutes, okay?”

“Alright,” he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice. You heard him move away from the door. “I’ll be in the living room.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning against the cool porcelain of the sink. This couldn’t go on. You couldn't let these hateful comments dictate your life, dictate your relationship.

Lando deserved better. You deserved better.

Taking a deep breath, you turned on the cold tap, splashing water on your face. You grabbed a towel and gently patted your skin dry, removing the remnants of your almost-attempted makeup.

You looked at yourself again, really looked.

The fiery hair, the freckles, the flaws… they were all part of you. They were what made you unique, what made you you. And Lando loved you for it. He saw beauty where others saw imperfections.

He saw strength where others saw vulnerability. Why were you letting the opinions of anonymous strangers outweigh the love and adoration of the man you adored?

You let out a shaky sigh, a weight lifting from your shoulders. It wasn't a complete cure, the insecurities wouldn't vanish overnight, but it was a start.

With newfound resolve, you took another look at the papaya dress. It shimmered under the light, a vibrant symbol of sunshine and joy. You smoothed the fabric down, a small smile gracing your lips.

You unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out.

Lando was standing in the living room, fiddling with his phone. He looked up as you entered, his face immediately lighting up. He was wearing a simple dark suit, impeccably tailored, but it was the genuine warmth in his eyes that truly caught your attention.

He took a step towards you, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe. The smile widened.

“Wow,” he breathed, his voice laced with admiration. “You look absolutely stunning.”

You blushed, the compliment genuine and heartfelt. “Thank you.”

He closed the distance between you, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs gently stroked your cheeks, tracing the familiar pattern of your freckles.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft with concern. “You seemed a bit… off earlier.”

You hesitated, the urge to brush it off still lingering. But you knew you couldn't hide from him. He deserved the truth.

“I… I saw some comments online,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “About… about me. About not being ‘your type.’”

His expression darkened, his eyes hardening with anger. “Don’t you dare listen to those people, Y/n,” he said fiercely, his grip on your face tightening slightly.

“They don’t know anything. My ‘type’ is someone who is kind, intelligent, funny, and beautiful, inside and out. Someone who makes me laugh every single day. Someone who challenges me and supports me, even when I’m being an idiot. That’s you, Y/n. That's always been you."

He paused, his gaze searching yours, making sure you understood the sincerity of his words.

"And as for the… the physical stuff," he continued, his voice softening again. "Your hair is the most beautiful shade of red I've ever seen. Your freckles are like little constellations, guiding me through the darkness. And that little dimple you get when you smile? Drives me absolutely crazy."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you’re not good enough, Y/n. Because to me, you are perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but this time, they were tears of relief, of gratitude, of love.

You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. “I love you, Lando,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his jacket.

He held you tight, his arms a comforting embrace. “I love you too, Y/n. More than you know.”

After a long moment, you pulled back, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. You took a deep breath, feeling a surge of confidence wash over you.

Lando was right. You couldn't let the negativity of others define you. You had his love, his support, and that was all that mattered.

You looked at him, a genuine smile gracing your lips. "Ready to go to this party?"

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Absolutely. And just so you know, I'm planning on spending the entire night showing you off to everyone. They need to see how lucky I am."

He took your hand in his, his fingers interlacing with yours. As you walked out the door together, you knew, with absolute certainty, that you were exactly where you were supposed to be. And that, you realised, was all that truly mattered.

The haters could say what they wanted. You had Lando, you had your love, and that was more than enough. The papaya dress suddenly felt like armour, not a target.

You were ready to face the world, hand in hand, imperfections and all. . . .

The party was exactly what you expected: loud music, flashing lights, and a sea of familiar faces from the F1 world – drivers, team principals, engineers, and their partners.

The sheer volume of people made your anxiety prickle, but Lando kept a firm grip on your hand, navigating you through the crowd.

He introduced you to what felt like a hundred people, his arm possessively around your waist, his smile beaming. You tried to focus on the conversations, to be witty and engaging, but the whispers seemed to follow you, phantom echoes of the comments haunting your mind.

“Lando’s with her?”

“She’s… different.”

“Not exactly what I expected.”

You squeezed Lando’s hand tighter, trying to ground yourself. He seemed oblivious to the undercurrents, his attention solely focused on you.

“Having fun?” he asked, his voice barely audible above the music.

You forced a smile. “Yeah, it’s… great.”

He looked at you, his eyes searching. He knew you better than anyone, and he could see the forced cheerfulness masking your discomfort.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling you closer. “If you want to leave, we can. We don’t have to stay here.”

“No,” you said quickly. “No, I’m fine. I want to be here. With you.”

He smiled, relieved. "Okay, but seriously, if you change your mind, just say the word."

Just then, a tall, lanky figure approached, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Lando! Mate, good to see you.”

“Oscar!” Lando clapped him on the back. “Good to see you too. Oscar, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Oscar Piastri.”

Oscar offered you his hand, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You shook his hand, trying to gauge his expression. Was there judgment there? Pity? You couldn’t tell. “Likewise, Oscar. Congratulations on your season so far.”

“Thanks,” he said, his smile genuine. "It's been... interesting, to say the least." He paused, then gestured to a woman standing beside him. "And this is my girlfriend, Lily."

Lily stepped forward, her smile warm and inviting. She had kind eyes and a simple elegance that immediately put you at ease. "It's lovely to meet you, Y/N. Lando talks about you all the time."

You blushed, glancing at Lando, who just winked. "All good things, I hope?"

Lily laughed. "Of course! He's completely smitten."

The four of you fell into easy conversation, discussing the season, the pressures of being in the spotlight, and the challenges of maintaining relationships in such a demanding environment.

You found yourself relaxing, the tension slowly draining away. Lily was refreshingly down-to-earth, and Oscar, despite his reserved demeanour, had a dry wit that you found endearing.

As the conversation flowed, you noticed Lily subtly steer the topic towards your interests, asking about your work, your hobbies, and your passions.

She seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you, not just as Lando’s girlfriend, but as an individual.

“So, Y/N” Lily said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, “Lando tells me you’re a writer? That’s fascinating! What kind of writing do you do?”

“I dabble in a bit of everything,” you replied, feeling your confidence grow. “Short stories, poetry, some freelance journalism. It depends on what sparks my interest, really.”

“That’s amazing,” she gushed. “I’ve always admired people who can write. It’s such a powerful way to express yourself.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “It is. I’m useless at it. Give me a steering wheel any day.”

Laughter bubbled up from your chest, your earlier anxieties fading into the background. You were having a genuine, enjoyable conversation, with people who seemed to genuinely care about you.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the noise. “Lando, darling! There you are!”

A woman, dripping in diamonds and designer clothes, glided towards you, her eyes scanning you from head to toe with blatant disapproval. You recognized her as the wife of a prominent team principal, a woman known for her sharp tongue and even sharper judgment.

Lando’s smile faltered slightly as he turned to face her. “Genevieve, good to see you.”

She completely ignored Oscar and Lily, her gaze fixed on you. “And who is this, Lando? A new… acquaintance?”

You felt your cheeks flush, the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. You knew what was coming.

Lando’s arm tightened around your waist. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “This is your girlfriend? How… interesting.” Her tone dripped with condescension. “Well, congratulations, darling. I’m sure you’re very happy.”

She turned back to Lando, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Lando, darling, you really could do so much better. Don't you want to think about your image?”

You felt your heart sink. This was it. The moment of truth. You braced yourself for the inevitable onslaught of negativity.

But then, something unexpected happened. Lando’s eyes flashed with anger, and his grip on your waist tightened protectively.

“I’m perfectly happy, thank you,” he said, his voice cold and firm. “And Y/N is more than enough. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we were in the middle of a conversation.”

He turned his back on the woman, effectively dismissing her. He looked at you, his eyes filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, still reeling from the encounter. “Yeah,” you mumbled. "I'm okay

Lily stepped forward, her expression fierce. “Honestly, some people are just ridiculous,” she said, her voice laced with scorn. “Don’t let her get to you, Y/N. She’s just jealous.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “She’s got nothing better to do than spread negativity. Ignore her.”

Lando squeezed your hand. “They’re right. Don’t let her ruin your night.”

You looked at them, at Lando, at Lily, at Oscar. You saw genuine support, genuine kindness, genuine acceptance. And suddenly, the weight on your chest lifted. The comments, the whispers, the judgment – they didn’t matter.

You had people who loved you, who supported you, who valued you for who you were, not for who the internet thought you should be.

You took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders, and smiled. “You know what? You’re right. I’m not going to let her ruin my night.”

Lando grinned, relieved. “That’s the spirit. Now, how about we get out of here and go somewhere more… private?” He winked suggestively.

Lily laughed. “Sounds like a plan. Oscar, you’re driving, right? I’ve had one too many cocktails.”

As you walked away, hand in hand with Lando, you glanced back at Lily and Oscar, a warm feeling of gratitude washing over you. You had found unexpected allies, people who saw past the surface and appreciated you for who you were.

You were still an outsider, still a ginger with freckles, still not “his type” according to the internet. But tonight, surrounded by love and support, you didn’t care. You had Lando, you had friends, and you had the courage to be yourself.

And that, you realised, was more than enough. The papaya dress no longer felt like armour, but a symbol of your strength, your resilience, and your unwavering commitment to being true to yourself.

You were you and you were happy. . . .

landonorris

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landonorris

Happy anniversary to my beautiful girl. Two years. Two years of laughter, adventures, and learning to love you more fiercely every single day. I know the internet can be a dark place, especially for someone as radiant as you. Don't listen to anyone who talks about you bad, especially those whispering nonsense about "types." They see a snapshot; I see the whole damn masterpiece.

Your fiery hair is sunshine on a cloudy day, each freckle a tiny star mapping out the constellation of my heart. They don't see the intelligence that sparkles in your eyes, the quick wit that keeps me on my toes, or the unwavering kindness you show to everyone you meet. They don’t see you. You are everything I could ever want, and more than I ever deserve. So, happy anniversary, my love. Let's keep painting our world with joy, ignoring the noise, and celebrating the beautiful, unique you. I love you more than words can say. ❤️

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morganaawriterr · 3 days ago

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Chapter 04;

— Your Sweet Love

Synosis: In a marriage born out of convenience and plagued by bitterness, You and Sunghoon find yourselves trapped in a cycle of cold indifference and unspoken resentment. Your quiet strength and tender care begin to reach the heart Sunghoon has so carefully guarded. Slowly, walls built from years of hurt and mistrust start to crumble, revealing a shared loneliness neither had acknowledged. With every tentative step toward connection, your hearts yearn for a closeness you’ve long denied yourself selves, leaving both to wonder if you can build something real from the ashes of your forced bond.

Navigation: Intro - 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 Pairing: fem!reader X husband!Park Sunghoon Genre: Arranged Marriage trope; Slow Burn; Angst; Fluff; Smut (kinda) Warnings: cursing, mention of pills (some are drugs); abuse; mentions of blood; sexual content; injuries; heavy themes; juicy tension ;) Music: Listen to 'nevertheless ost' and 'the trunk ost'!! Disclaimer: This story is fiction, and it does not reflect real life in any way. This story is heavily inspired by the kdrama 'The Trunk' on Netflix but with a special twist! Words: 6k - New Chapter Every Saturday!!

A/n: I procrastinated on writing this chapter so badly and I don't know why :( The story is coming to an end and I'm so sad :/ Its been great to write this for you guys, I hope you like this new chapter. Because it is kind of a calm chapter, its not as long as the last one, but I worked very hard on it anyway! Also, I want to warn you: this chapter talks about death. Thank you for all the love and support. It means everything to me <3

After standing in front of your bedroom door for what feels like an eternity, Sunghoon still can't seem to find the courage to knock. His hand hovers in the air, frozen in hesitation. His thoughts are clouded with regret, and he experiences a sense of weight as if he is being pulled down by gravity. Knowing he’s too frail to make a move tonight, he sighs and turns away, deciding to retreat to his room. He can try again tomorrow morning.

Inside his large bedroom, the scent of clean laundry greets him, and as he approaches his bed, he notices you’ve changed the sheets. The soothing fragrance makes his chest ache, your presence lingering in the room despite the distance between you. His own words replay in his head like a cruel, endless movie. Sunghoon closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying to push you out of his mind.

The air in the room is ice-cold, the forgotten open window letting in the freezing night breeze. His skin prickles as he crosses the room to shut it, hating how the icy air mirrors the chill between you two. He moves around, searching for his sleeping clothes. An old black T-shirt and loose pants that hang low on his waist.

Cursing under his breath, he slips under the covers, only to be met with cold once again. Sunghoon's body shivers as he adjusts beneath the heavy blankets, but they do nothing to bring him comfort. He exhales a deep, tired sigh, his head sinking into the pillow. More than anything, he just wants this crappy night to end.

But hours pass, and it feels like absolute hell. A cold, lonely hell that he’s trapped in. For four agonizing hours, Sunghoon tosses and turns, his body as restless as his mind. His thoughts refuse to quiet down, and every time he closes his eyes, the image of you crying resurfaces, keeping him wide awake. Frustrated, he lies flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, his heartbeat pounding fast against his rib cage.

Without thinking, he throws off the blankets and gets up. His feet carry him to the hallway before his mind can catch up. Your door seems miles away, and with each step, his legs grow weaker.

Once again, he finds himself standing in front of your room, anxiety clouding his head. What if she's asleep? He wonders. It’s four in the morning. His hand hesitates in mid-air, lingering over the door as he debates whether to knock or walk away.

What if she hates me and wants to leave me? His anxiety screams inside his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and swallows hard, his hands trembling as he slowly reaches for the wooden door. But to his surprise, it opens slightly before he can touch it, leaving him confused. From the small gap you’ve created, you stare at your husband with tired eyes.

“I didn’t even—” Sunghoon starts, but you just offer him a small smile. Shaking your head, you glance at him again before responding. His beautiful brown eyes are red, with dark circles beneath them, a clear sign that he’s been just as restless as you.

“I heard your footsteps,” you finally say, easing some uncertainty swirling in Sunghoon’s mind.

“Can I come inside? I want to talk,” he mutters, his shy gaze flickering away from your face.

“Sure,” you reply simply, not wanting to seem too eager to see him.

Sunghoon stands awkwardly in the center of your room, facing your bed. It’s the first time he’s been inside, and it looks exactly how he imagined. Decorated in warm, earthy browns and soft greens, with dim yellow lights glowing in the corners and small plants perched on the windowsill. The familiar scent of your perfume lingers in the air, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. He exhales slowly, feeling himself relax just a little.

His curious eyes never leave your silhouette as you quietly close the door and crawl back into the messy sea of blankets on your bed. He notices you’re wearing the same thing as the other day when he brought you tea. A plain, oversized deep blue T-shirt with no shorts. Sunghoon quickly shifts his gaze elsewhere before his body reacts to the sight of your exposed skin.

“Are you going to say something? Or just stand there in silence?” you tease, your eyes burning holes into him.

“I want to say I’m sorry. I never meant to say those things to you,” Sunghoon finally confesses, his voice quiet, his gaze still avoiding yours. “I was stressed and overwhelmed from work… I didn’t mean anything I said.”

As the last words leave his lips, Sunghoon’s warm brown eyes finally meet yours. The sight makes his chest ache; your eyes are still red and your face slightly swollen.

“Sunghoon, you can’t just say whatever you want and then blame it on stress. Those words… they… hurt me… more than I can even admit.” Your voice is low and unsteady, a knot forming in your throat as the words leave your mouth.

“I know, I know.” Sunghoon insists, stepping closer to your bed. “You’re absolutely right, and that’s why I couldn’t sleep until I came here to apologize. I’m sorry, Y/N. It won’t happen again.”

You hold his gaze until he finishes speaking, searching for any sign of insincerity. But the way his eyes soften reassures you that he means every word. Under his intense stare, you feel breathless, the air slipping away as his piercing eyes stay locked on yours. The tension in the room shifts in an instant, like a single spark igniting a space filled with gasoline. Frustrated, you throw yourself onto the bed, your back pressing into the mattress, legs slightly parted. You want to scold him for being so cruel, but your thoughts are a disorganized mess.

Sunghoon observes you in silence, his frustration growing. Your lack of response does nothing to ease the guilt twisting in his chest. He notices the way you cover your eyes with your arm, hiding from him. A sudden inappropriate thought crosses his mind, and a smirk tugs at his lips. Meticulously, he crawls onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs, his knee nudging them apart just enough to fit.

Your head snaps up instantly, and when you move your arm away, you’re met with Sunghoon. He is so close, you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips. Your cheeks flush under his intense stare, his dark eyes absorbing every inch of your face.

Still annoyed by your silence, he finally speaks.

“Do you forgive me, Y/N?” His voice is deeper, dripping with something that makes your stomach twist.

You want to resist, want to say something sharp, but instead, you just nod, too flustered to form a single word.

Suddenly, Sunghoon’s right hand gently pushes your right knee up, his warm fingers gliding over your calf in a slow, deliberate motion. A breath catches in your throat, your skin erupting in goosebumps at his touch. Then he leans in, his lips hovering near your ear as he whispers,

“I don’t like this silence you’re giving me. Use your words, princess. Tell me you forgive me for my stupid actions.”

You don’t know if it’s the unexpected nickname, the husky rasp of his voice, or the way his fingers continue their teasing path, trailing higher, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. Your eyes flutter shut as a soft, unintentional moan escapes your lips, your body betraying you under his touch.

And it feels exactly how you imagined it—confident yet gentle, just like Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon…” You manage, your throat dry as your eyes lock with his once again. “I forgive you…” you breathe out, still trying to steady yourself.

Sunghoon’s smirk deepens as he takes in your flustered state, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“See? Was that so hard?” he whispers against your lips, and you swear they brushed against yours for the briefest second. Just as quickly as he settled on top of you, Sunghoon shifted, falling onto the bed beside you.

You turn onto your side to face him, and the smug smile on his lips says it all. He enjoyed teasing you and relished seeing you so helpless beneath him. Your gaze wanders over his face, taking in how effortlessly handsome he looks dressed casually, his black hair slightly tousled, and a playful smirk curving his lips. Half of his face is hidden behind his dark strands, making him look even more alluring.

Your eyes wander lower, and your breath catches at the sight of his bare neck and collarbones, the loose t-shirt draping off his shoulders. His pale skin is smooth, scattered with small beauty marks that you never noticed before. Heat rises to your cheeks as your curiosity gets the best of you, and your gaze dips even lower. The way he’s lying down causes his shirt to ride up, revealing a sliver of his toned waist. Your hungry eyes trace the lines of his abs down to his v-line, which is teasingly visible beneath the low-hanging waistband of his pants.

This is the first time you’ve ever seen your husband in such casual, revealing clothes, and it’s affecting you more than you expected. But before your gaze can travel any further, Sunghoon’s hand gently cups your chin, tilting your head up, so your eyes meet his again.

“My eyes are up here,” he teases, amusement flickering across his face.

You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks burn even hotter. “Shut up,” you mutter, hating how easily he has you wrapped around his finger.

“I’m feeling so sleepy now,” Sunghoon sighs, ignoring your flustered state. Then he yawns, letting his body sink deeper into the mattress.

“Since you were good to me and apologized,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant as a tiny spark of confidence grows inside you. “You can sleep here with me tonight.”

Sunghoon lifts his head off the pillow, giving you a surprised look, as if not fully believing your words. Without another comment, you snuggle back under the covers and switch off the light on your nightstand. In the darkness, you turn your back to him, pressing your burning face into your pillow. The ghost of his earlier touch still lingers on your skin, making it impossible to calm your racing heart.

A moment later, you hear him shifting beneath the covers. Then, slowly, Sunghoon inches closer, his warmth seeping into your back as his arm snakes around your waist. He pulls you firmly against him, and you feel everything—his solid chest, the steady rise and fall of his breath, the way his legs press against yours. His head dips close to your ear, his hand sliding up, resting just below your chest.

“Thank you, princess. Good night,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your earlobe.

With a tight grip on your waist, you hear his breathing begin to slow. Your eyelids grow heavy too, and without resistance, you drift off in his arms. Outside, the full moon shines brightly in the vast, star-filled sky, casting its bluish light into your bedroom, illuminating your tangled bodies.

The night slips away quickly, and soon, the sun begins to rise, bringing warmth and light into the world. Inside your bedroom, you and your husband remain entwined, both of you breathing slow and steady.

Sunghoon scrunches his face in irritation as the bright morning rays reflect off his closed eyelids, forcing him to wake. He yawns, then carefully pulls his arm from under your head, needing to stretch his stiff body. Beside him, you sleep peacefully. Your hair is a mess, and soft snores are escaping your lips, but even like this, Sunghoon thinks you're the cutest woman alive.

Resisting the urge to reach out and brush his fingers against your serene face, he rubs his eyes and sits up, resting his back against the wooden headboard. The quiet atmosphere is comforting, and for a brief moment, he wishes it could always be like this—calm, steady, safe. He’s not sure if he can handle any more chaos.

His sleepy eyes wander around your bedroom, finally able to take it in fully in the daylight. As he scans the space, something catches his attention. A small frame on your nightstand, nestled beside the poetry book you always carry around. He leans forward to get a better view, but he is surprised that the picture inside is of a man.

He doesn’t seem much older than twenty, his blonde hair falling messily over his face as he makes a peace sign for the camera.

Sunghoon hesitates for a second before slowly leaning over your sleeping body, reaching for the frame. Just as his fingers curl around it, your body shifts, and suddenly, your face is too close to his.

“What are you doing?” you murmur sleepily, your eyes still closed.

Sunghoon grips the picture tightly before sitting back up, waiting for you to fully wake. He expects you to scold him—maybe even get mad for touching your things without permission, but instead, you simply roll onto your side, meeting his gaze with a soft, sad smile.

“Who is he?” Sunghoon asks cautiously, noticing the way your expression shifts despite the small grin on your lips.

“Nishimura Riki,” you say slowly, a lump forming in your throat. “He was my ex-husband.” The words feel heavy, and no matter how much time has passed, the pain still lingers.

Sunghoon watches you closely, sensing the weight behind your words. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, his gaze unwavering, his tone gentle, trying to offer the same patience you always show him.

“Yeah, but maybe not now.”

The moment the words leave your lips, he nods silently and hands you the frame. He observes as your eyes flicker over the image, small tears forming as you stare.

Slowly, you set the frame back in its place, taking a deep breath as if trying to compose yourself. Sunghoon remains silent, but inside, confusion stirs. You’ve never mentioned being married before, not once. You’ve never even spoken another man’s name in front of him. And yet, the way you look at the picture sends a cold shiver down his spine.

Something about the entire situation feels… discomfiting.

“What should we do today?” Your voice breaks the comfortable silence. Slowly, you shift under the covers, resting your head on Sunghoon’s thighs and looking up at him.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” he asks confidently, though his heart pounds in his chest. His hand drifts to your head, gently patting your hair.

You smile at him. “Of course I do, Sunghoon,” you reply, avoiding his gaze as a wave of shyness washes over you. The excitement bubbling inside makes you feel like a twelve-year-old girl falling in love for the first time.

“I’ll plan everything—you don’t have to worry about a thing!” he exclaims, his voice laced with excitement as he watches you fondly, his fingers threading deeper into your hair.

A peaceful silence settles between you, filled with the warmth of the blankets, the soft morning sunlight filtering through the curtains, and the soothing sensation of Sunghoon’s delicate fingers massaging your scalp. You stare at his face, admiring his cute moles and messy bed hair. Your tongue wets your lips as your gaze shifts to his plump lips, so inviting. It makes your stomach twist with the need to feel them against yours.

Sunghoon seems to sense the shift in your eyes because his fingers, that were in your hair, started to trail down to rest behind your neck. Slowly, he leans in, your sweet scent enveloping him as he lowers himself to reach your lips.

And once again, he stops just millimeters away, his warm breath ghosting over your eager lips. “We can't. Not yet,” Sunghoon whispers, turning his head at the last second. Instead, he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes at the tender touch and pout as he pulls away.

“I know it’s frustrating, but I’m waiting for the right moment,” Sunghoon explains, his fingertips gently tracing your warm cheeks.

Then, he carefully guides you to sit up on the mattress before leaving the bed, and you watch him in confusion. Just when you thought Sunghoon couldn’t get any more handsome, he proves you wrong. He stands before you with a soft blush dusting his cheeks, neck, and ears.

“Wear something nice—we’re leaving in two hours,” he tells you with a bright smile, standing in the doorway with his hand on the doorknob.

You nod, biting your lip as your heart skips a beat under his gaze. His sharp fangs peek out as he grins at you one last time before disappearing through the door.

The atmosphere in your room will never be the same. His presence now engraved in your sheets.

“Can we go somewhere else before doing what you planned?” you interrupt the silence as the car comes to a stop at a red light. Turning to face Sunghoon, you watch as he furrows his brows before responding.

“Sure. Where do you need to go?” he asks, his eyes carefully flicking to the right mirror outside the car.

“The cemetery.”

This time, the silence that settles between you isn't comfortable or light. It’s suffocating. It eats away at your ability to breathe, making your chest ache. Sunghoon doesn’t ask any questions, and you’re grateful. You need all the courage you can muster to finally tell him about your ex-husband. Your unhappy gaze remains fixed on the window, the sight of the familiar place making you take a deep breath.

The sun blazes against your back as you and Sunghoon walk through the cemetery, the atmosphere heavy and uneasy. He follows a step behind, letting you lead the way. When your high heels click against the cement path, he realizes you’ve reached your destination.

You stop in front of a wall lined with unfamiliar names. Slowly, your delicate hands leave your pockets, reaching for a particular spot. Your fingertips softly graze over a familiar face, and as your teary eyes meet his, Sunghoon finally understands what was going on.

“He was such a sweet boy,” you begin, a melancholic smile forming on your lips as small tears start to fall. Sunghoon immediately steps forward, standing by your side. His hand finds yours, and he interlocks your fingers, silently giving you the strength to continue.

“Ni-ki and I grew up together; he was always there for me.” You pause, turning back to Ni-ki’s picture on his grave.

“What happened?” Sunghoon asks carefully, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

“We were planning our wedding when we found out he had late-stage brain cancer,” you say, your voice trembling. “I was devastated. I cried every single day. But… he stayed positive, always smiling, even when his hair started falling out from chemotherapy. We knew he had only a few months left, so I put on my wedding dress and married him in the hospital. I wanted to be his wife before he…” Your voice cracks as fresh tears spill down your cheeks.

Sunghoon holds your shaking hands with unwavering care, his warmth grounding you.

“He died two days after we got married,” you whisper. “I was holding his hand. The last thing he said to me was, ‘I will always love you.’” Your breath hitches. “He was only twenty, and I was twenty-two. We were young, I know, but I couldn’t let him go without marrying him—”

A loud sob cuts off your words, your body trembling as grief crashes over you once again.

“It’s okay…” Sunghoon murmurs, pulling you into his embrace. His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry, princess,” he whispers, his voice tight with emotion. You don’t notice the warm tears slipping down his own face, his heart aching at the sight of you in pain.

“Ni-ki was my everything. He was my only reason to live,” you admit brokenly. “My mom hated me; my dad was gone… I only had him. After he passed, I fell into a deep depression. I barely ate for months, and no one cared. Then, one day, I received a bill. A heavy debt that Ni-ki’s relatives refused to pay. He grew up in foster care, so no one cared about him. No one but me. Instead of telling me, he tried to cover the medical costs himself with what little he made from teaching dance classes. But it wasn’t enough. That’s why I agreed to marry you,” you finally confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “Your father said he’d pay off the debt if I accepted.”

Sunghoon tightens his hold on your hands, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t love again.” Your voice trembles as you press your fingers together, nervous. “But then… you showed up.” You lower your gaze to your hands, too scared to look at him. “At first, I hated you. Then I started to accept you. Then I understood you. And now…Now I’m afraid of what I feel for you.”

Sunghoon gently tilts your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his. His gaze is so warm, so deep, that for a moment, the whole world disappears, leaving just the two of you.

“I’m not afraid of what I feel for you,” he whispers. His thumb caresses your tear-streaked cheeks with infinite tenderness. “I never knew you were all I needed… but now that I have you, I won’t let you go.”

A smile grows on both of your faces as he speaks, love dripping from his words. You rest your head against his chest as you hug him, craving the comfort of his embrace and his familiar scent. Sunghoon hugs you back, pressing a kiss to your hair before resting his chin on top of your head.

You remain entangled in each other for a few moments, your gaze fixed on your ex-lover’s grave. You wish Ni-ki could understand how much you loved him and Sunghoon. The two men are so different, yet so alike. You hope he isn’t upset that you’ve made space in your heart for someone else, despite him never truly leaving.

The sun remains high in the sky, its warmth easing the ache in your chest. When you look up at Sunghoon, you find that he’s already watching you, making you smile.

“We can go now,” you assure him, taking a deep breath.

Sunghoon intertwines his fingers with yours as you walk back to his car. “Thank you for telling me this. I know it wasn’t easy.” His voice is laced with genuine affection, his smile soft.

“I felt like it was time.”

“Was Ni-ki as patient as you?” Sunghoon asks, encouraging you to talk about your ex-lover so that remembering him won’t hurt as much.

“He was way more patient than me.” You smile. “I learned patience from him. Mostly because he loved to get on my nerves. At first, I hated how childish he could be because I was never allowed to be. But he showed me kindness, love…” Your voice trails off as memories of his playful nature resurface. His loud laughter echoed through the small apartment you once shared, his grin mischievous as he ran from you, clutching your favorite chocolate half-eaten in his hands.

Sunghoon catches your smile in the rearview mirror as he drives to your date’s destination. The conversation remains on the same topic throughout the ride, with him asking questions about Ni-ki and enjoying the way you recount your memories—your voice filled with both excitement and tenderness.

Sunghoon could have never imagined you had gone through all of this. You always seem so calm and collected, as if you always know exactly what to do and say.

“Woah, what is this place?” you ask sarcastically, laughing as you spot the bold red letters of the sign above the building. “The movie theater?”

“It’s cliché, I know,” Sunghoon admits while carefully parking his car, his gaze flicking back to the rearview mirror. “But it’s perfect for a date. Plus, I haven’t been here in so long, and there’s this horror movie I really wanted to watch with you!” He explains as he turns off the engine, finally looking at you.

You adjust your black dress and nod, charmed by his adorable way of thinking. “Shall we?”

Sunghoon quickly gets out of the car and rushes to your side, opening the door for you. A giggle escapes your lips at the gentlemanly gesture, your heart skipping a beat. After closing the car door, he walks beside you, an arm wrapped around your waist and a smile engraved on his lips.

The theater is bustling with people and loud chatter. The queue seems endless, but after a few minutes, you finally get your tickets.

The movie room is packed, with not a single empty seat in sight. You steal a quick glance at Sunghoon, only to realize he’s already looking at you. He hands you the popcorn, and as you grab a handful, a few pieces spill onto the floor. He gives you a stern look, and you suppress a smile.

The movie turns out to be scarier than you expected. With every bloody scene on the screen, you squeeze your eyes shut and instinctively lean closer to Sunghoon. He notices your discomfort in the dimly lit space and reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. You hold onto him tightly whenever something terrifying happens, making him smile at your cute reactions.

“That was… something else,” you murmur as you toss the empty popcorn container into the trash while walking out of the theater.

Sunghoon chuckles. “I thought you liked horror movies.”

“I like horror, not gore. And that was all gore!” you pout, earning a laugh from him.

Suddenly, he stops mid-step and turns to face you. His hands reach for your cheeks, gently pulling at them, making you squirm under his touch. “You’re so cute,” he teases, his eyes locked onto yours.

You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress a smile. “Obviously,” you reply, pulling his hands away from your slightly sore cheeks.

“Are you hungry?” Sunghoon asks as you resume walking.

“I’m always hungry,” you respond teasingly, shaking your head dramatically.

He laughs again. “Let’s get dinner then.”

He opens the car door for you, giving you space to slide inside. Once you’re seated, you glance up at him with a nod, and he circles the car before driving to the restaurant.

Your mouth falls open in awe as you step inside. The restaurant is decorated in black and red, with tall windows and dim lighting that gives the place an intimate, sensual atmosphere. Sunghoon smiles at your reaction, admiring the way you take in the space.

He stands beside you, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you to a table tucked away from the main dining area, the spot he always chooses, right by the window.

As Sunghoon pulls out the chair for you to sit in, he finally takes a moment to admire you. To his surprise, your dark, smoky eye-look remains perfectly intact despite the earlier tears, and your lips are still stained red from the new lip tint you bought. The black silk dress you wear drapes elegantly over your figure, hugging you in all the right places. A delicate pearl necklace rests against your collarbone, making your skin look even more alluring than usual.

The menu is already on the table, so you take the initiative and browse through it, still unsure of what to eat. Your gaze drifts to the prices, and your eyes widen in shook. If you had never married him, dining here wouldn’t even be an option.

“Shall we order steak?” Sunghoon asks, breaking the silence. You quickly glance at him, your eyes shining with excitement.

“Yes!” you respond with a smile. “And to drink… rosé wine?” You pout slightly, knowing your husband prefers red.

“Of course, princess. Whatever you want—today is all about you.” He flirts, flashing you a seductive smirk, his dimples on full display.

A sweet waitress takes your order, but your attention remains fixed on your husband. Sunghoon looks exceptionally handsome tonight, with his black hair neatly styled back, and a pair of thin glasses resting on his nose. He wears a simple white button-up shirt paired with a black blazer, but the confidence in his demeanor makes even the simplest outfit look effortlessly refined.

“You’re staring…” Sunghoon murmurs, trying to suppress a smile. His ears grow warm under your passionate gaze. Those beautiful doe eyes of yours will be his downfall.

“Sorry, you just look so handsome tonight, husband.” You compliment him with a grin.

“Thank you, wife. You look absolutely stunning, too,” Sunghoon flirts back, another smirk threatening to break across his lips.

The dinner passes slowly, filled with lingering glances and playful jokes. You feel calm and safe as Sunghoon shares funny stories about his old friends, his charming smile captivating you more and more. He remains attentive throughout the evening, always checking to ensure your glass is never empty and helping you cut your steak when the pieces prove difficult. His caring nature is one of your favorite things about him—because you’ve spent your whole life being the one to take care of others, when he takes care of you, it touches an area deeper in your heart.

Now, you walk side by side along the vast road by the Han River, enjoying the occasional cool breeze brushing against your skin. The moon has begun to rise, its glow casting a silver shimmer over the moving water. You pause to admire it, drawn to the soothing sound of the waves.

“The moon looks so beautiful tonight,” you remark, stealing a quick glance at Sunghoon. He stands behind you, his eyes glued to your figure. The gentle wind causes your dress to ripple, accentuating your curves.

“It’s beautiful,” he agrees, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist. “But not as beautiful as you.”

“You’ve been so flirty.” You tilt your head slightly to look at him.

“You don’t like it?” He raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“I do… It’s just…” You pause, locking eyes with him. “I have to get used to it, that’s all.” A soft smile curves your lips as you turn fully to face your husband.

Sunghoon realizes this moment is perfect. You’re smiling, your cheeks slightly flushed from the wine, looking like an absolute goddess under the moonlight. He slowly slides an arm around your waist again, pulling you closer, his heartbeat hammering in his chest as he leans in.

Your hands grow slightly clammy as you grasp his wrist, your lips parting in anticipation—hoping, waiting for him to claim you as his. And then he finally does.

The moment his warm lips meet yours, the air leaves your lungs. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and a smile blossoms on your lips. Sunghoon feels it against his own as he kisses you, and it makes his head spin.

Uncertain if he should go further, he starts to pull away, but your hands fly up to his face, pulling him back toward you, craving more. He gets the message, and he’s more than happy to oblige. His lips move against yours with slow, deliberate care, savoring your taste.

Your tongue brushes against his bottom lip, silently asking for entrance, and he grants it—just this once. You take the lead, eagerly deepening the kiss, your tongue tangling with his in a slow, intoxicating rhythm.

When Sunghoon finally runs out of air, he pulls away, breathless but utterly satisfied. You rest your forehead against his, relishing the feeling of his breath fanning over your damp lips.

If you had any doubts before, now they’ve completely disappeared.

You love him.

Jiwon stares blankly at the white wall of her bedroom. The lights are dim, the room is warm, and she sits on the edge of the bed while a handsome man sits beside her. His fingers trace invisible shapes on her exposed waist as his lips occupy themselves with her neck, biting and sucking the soft skin.

It’s like she can see them right in front of her when she closes her eyes, the memories making her skin crawl. She had thought Sunghoon was distant because the company was taking up all his time, but she was wrong. And that is what pisses her off the most.

The man beside her presses down on her shoulders, causing her to lie flat on the mattress—but she isn’t there. She’s long gone, lost in the sight of you. She wanted to laugh when she caught you and Sunghoon at the restaurant she used to love. How dare he bring you to her favorite place?

At first, Jiwon thought she was imagining things, but Sunghoon’s face was impossible to mistake. She watched you both the entire time—how you laughed at his jokes, how his eyes lingered on your face, how at ease he seemed with you. She envies it badly. But deep down, she knows it was her fault for crushing his confidence.

As she closes her eyes to relive the moment, the man is now on top of her, unbuttoning her corset and completely unaware of how distant she is. Not that she minds. She chose him to make her forget about this stupid night. After watching you two have dinner, Jiwon followed you to the Han River. She needed to see just how close you two really were.

She had expected some light skinship, but when she saw Sunghoon lean in and kiss you, she lost control. Hot, salty tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned away, heading back to her car. She wasn’t sad, she was furious. How could Sunghoon move on so quickly? How could he kiss you like that for everyone to see?

Jiwon was shaking by the time she reached her car, and once inside, she screamed until her throat burned. Her hands trembled as she pounded against the steering wheel, feeling betrayed, humiliated, and replaced.

Now, back in the present, she lets out a soft moan as the stranger’s fingers trail up the inside of her bare thighs.

A perfect plan begins to take shape in her mind as his hand ventures higher, grazing over her underwear. The plan will be flawless. She just has to enjoy her night first.

As the man slowly and teasingly pulls her panties down, she allows herself to relax—while a malicious scheme lingers at the edge of her thoughts.

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chaoticwriting · 3 days ago

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FENTON CRIME FAMILY 4

-Wayne Manor, Gotham-

Damian straightens out his shirt a little as he stands in front of his siblings. He doesn't know why nor would he admit that he is a little nervous right now. They are currently at the theater room waiting for whatever Damian has prepared for them. Except for Dick and Jason, all of the siblings are here.

Tim: Would you explain to us already why you want us here?

Damian: Silence Drake. I am gathering my thoughts here.

Steph: Ugghhh, just tell us already. I am already close to cracking up Cass to confess who she is hanging out with.

Cass: No you aren't.

Steph: Yes, I am.

Duke: Umm, guys. I think Damian is ready.

Suddenly the lights turn off and the projector starts to show a slide show.

Damian: So, I thank each one of you for making time to come to this meeting today.

Tim:*Whispering* Oh wow, he must really need our help if he even thanks us for just being here.

Damian:*Glaring at Tim* As you all are aware, I am going out on an outing the day after tomorrow. Although I am sufficiently trained in proper dressing up, I would like to have a second or maybe third opinion.

Steph: You mean fifth opinion? Cause there are like 4 of us here.

Damian: It is a figure of speech, Brown. I'm sure you are not stupid enough to not know that.

Tim: I think he is trying to insult you but that sounds like a praise to me.

Duke: It's because you are a weirdo. How about we get back on track? So, what do you want our opinion on?

Damian turns the slide and a selection of clothes appears.

Damian: I need you to give me your opinion on which set of clothes are the most suitable for my outing.

Cass: What is the specific criteria for the selection?

Damian: I want the clothes to flesh out my features more.

Duke: As in making you look more handsome?

Damian: Yes.

Tim: Why do you need to look more handsome? I thought you are just going for some outing?

Steph: Shit! Don't you see it, Tim? He is going on a date. Look at those clothes. Those are the clothes that he only wears if there is a special occasion.

Duke: You are going on a date? With who? Does Bruce or Alfred know?

Damian: I already told Alfred about my outing. I am holding off on informing father of this event until there is any further progress. As for who, it is none of your concern.

Tim: Wait. Then why do you want our opinion on what you wear?

Damian: Because all of you have experience in relationships before. I would have invited Grayson if not for his fashion sense.

Duke: Fair warning, though. I am not good at these clothing things. It is usually Isabella that chooses my clothes.

Damian: Of course I know that. But given you are in a relationship with Ortiz for a long time already, I would assume her sense of fashion has already rubbed off a little on you.

Steph: Wait, so we are just gonna ignore that he is going on a date? Aren't any of you curious?

Tim: I already got her files. Name is Dani Fenton. 15. No school. Lives in the Bowery. Her sister is the therapist that Bruce is seeing. Has a brother. Her internet history is very clean. Like super duper clean. Almost tailored to make it seem like that.

Duke: Chances it is forged?

Tim: Likely. But I can't seem to find anything about her. Whether it is physical or online.

Cass: Are you sure she is safe?

Damian: Yes.

Steph: I'm not gonna stop you from romancing her but considering who you are the son of, we might need to prepare just in case.

Duke: Oh yeah. Hopefully she isn't anything like that. The last thing we need is another rogue in Gotham.

-Crime Alley-

Red Hood: So, why do you want to meet?

Spectre: I have information that you might want.

Spectre (Ellie) throws a file with a big red 'SECRET' on it onto the table. Red Hood picks it up and opens it.

As he flips through the pages, his breath becomes more ragged. His eyesight slowly turns more green and he could feel his blood pumping at a higher rate as his anger slowly builds up while reading the file.

Especially when he reads the part where they are part of the government. How dare the government do this? Not only are they killing people, they also label them as non living.

Red Hood: What do you want me to do with this information?

Spectre: It is up to you really. Since you are technically a hero, I decide to give this information to you first. However, do know that if you wish to take action, please do it quickly. A lot of "people" wish to have a piece of them.

After Spectre says that, she stands up from her chair and goes out of the room. Red Hood watches as the young gang leader leaves his office. Eyeing the file, he will call the Outlaw tomorrow. There is a government base to be blown up.

#danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #batfam #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny x cass #dead silent #cassandra cain #justice league #cass x danny

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fizzing-imagines · 3 days ago

Note

alright my friend, I feel like you would kill this...

soooooooo, think you could write a first date with Steve? :) I don't know maybe like nervous and stuttering babbling mess Steve??? (if you feel like it, ofc)

smooches <3

Blush | Steve Harrington x Reader

Notes: Hi friend!! Thank you for the request. I hope it's what you imagined. Smooches!! <3

Words: 350-ish

Warnings: None

"Hey.", you greeted Steve with a wide grin. His face read nervousness, although he tried his very best to hide it. "Hi.", he replied in a shaky tone. This poor boy was so nervous that he almost dropped the red roses in his hand. "I, uh, got these for you.", Steve stuttered while handing them over. Unfortunately, his nervousness only got worse when he saw your dad peeking around the corner. "Thank you, Steve. I'll put them away and come outside, yeah?" There was a small smile on his lips before you turned to get the flowers into a vase.

"Bye dad!", you yelled through the house before closing the door and walking to Steve's car. "What's your plan?" That's a simple question, but he really stuttered his reply. "I was thinking we could go to Enzos. Well, uh, if that's what you like. I mean, I assumed you like Italian, we can get something else that you like." Steve's face was turning red again. "I'll pay, of, course, but it's really your picking, you know? I wouldn't wanna make you eat something you didn't like." You interrupted him by putting your hand on his. It was a given to you that that would make him go quiet. Quiet and even more red.

"Italian is just fine, Steve. You don't have to worry, okay?", you assured him. Your thumb stroked across the back of his hand. "I'm excited to go out with you, there's no need to be nervous." Your words genuinely calmed him, and after all this stuttering he finally gave you a smile. "Alright, let's go then.", you said.

"Yeah, let's go."

Dinner went great. Steve parked his car down the road from where you lived so you two would have some alone time to talk. "No way that she said that to you!", he excitedly in disbelief while you told him about the mother of a child you babysat. "I swear! And she just wouldn't stop!" A laugh left his lips. "And you still babysit for her?" You shrugged your shoulders and leaned back in the passenger seat. "She pays well, and I like the kid." was your only reasoning. You looked over at him and smiled.

"Today was really nice. Can we do this again?", you asked. Steve leaned back in his seat as well while smiling over. "I'd like that a lot. Maybe tomorrow, and every day after that?" You giggled at his proposal. "Sure, sounds good."

He drove up the street, right to your house, and left the car to open your door. "How charming.", you said with a grin. Both of you shared a hug, but just couldn't let go of one another. "Come on, we're both thinking about it."

Just like that, you leaned into a kiss. And while Steve happily kissed you back, he was left the same way as he was in the beginning; a stuttering, blushing mess.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine

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h0efor2ho · 1 day ago

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Tutoring Temptation

Wonwoo X Reader

WC - 6.1k ( I got carried away )

TW - Nerd!Wonwoo, there is plot here with the porn, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex (wrap it kids) cream pie, Wonwoo is the sweetest ever.

You'v always been a pretty good student. Able to keep up a 3.6 gpa while still having a decent social life. That was till you entered advanced calculus in your second year of college. You just couldn't grasp it no matter how hard you tried to study. Your grades dropping down to a 3.2 gpa. Your parents threatening to pull you out of school if you don't get your shit together. "Stop partying and start studying" your mother said. So you did. Spending night after night reading your text book, looking over your notes. Turning down invitations to house parties. Even going as far as to record your class and watch it back later. That's when you noticed that the guy who sits in the front of the room seems to always raise his hand and always gets the answer right. The idea formed in your head right away. You'd ask him to tutor you. You desperately needed the help and you figured he knew what he was doing.

The next day you make your way to class early, waiting and looking as students file into the lecture hall. It doesn't take long before you see his head of dark hair enter the room and make a b-line for the front seat. You quickly make your was down the steps past people talking till your feet hit the bottom floor and turn to carry you right up to his chair. He's bent over, back angled toward you as he pulls things out of his bag. His shirt neatly tucked into his brown pants, with a blazer over it. He doesn't notice you at all. "Uhm hey..."

Shit, you dont even know his name. You try and think back to the videos from class, of your professor calling him by name when you raised his hand. You're drawing a blank. He spins in his chair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up at you. "Uhmm" you say again as you take in his features. He's not that bad looking for a nerd persay you think. "Wonwoo" he says snapping you out of your own thoughts. "huh" you ask.

"Wonwoo. My name. It's Wonwoo" he gives you a small smile. "Oh yea." you give him a small nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm bad with names. I'm also really bad at calculus. Which is why I'm here bothering you. I was hoping maybe you could tutor me?" you finish rambling and give him what you hope is not a cringy smile. Wonwoo tilts his head slightly, considering your request. His dark eyes study you for a moment before he replies, "I see. And here I thought you might be asking me on a date," he quips, his voice low and unexpectedly smooth. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by his playful response. "Oh, uh, no... I mean, not that you're not... I just..." you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for suddenly losing your ability to form coherent sentences.

He chuckles softly, seemingly enjoying your flustered state. "Relax, I'm just teasing. I suppose I could help you out. When were you thinking?" Relief washes over you. "Really? That would be amazing. I'm free pretty much any evening. Whatever works best for you." He nods, pulling out a small planner from his bag. "How about tomorrow night at 7? We can meet at the library." "Perfect," you say, trying not to sound too eager. "Thank you so much, Wonwoo. I really appreciate it." He gives you another small smile. "No problem. Just make sure you bring your textbook and notes." You nod enthusiastically, about to respond when the professor walks in and calls the class to order. You quickly make your way back to your seat, heart beating a little faster than usual.

As you sit down, you can't help but glance down at Wonwoo. He's already focused on the professor, his pen poised over his notebook. You find yourself wondering what he's like outside of class. Is he always so composed? Does he ever let loose? The lecture begins, but your mind keeps drifting back to your upcoming tutoring session. You try to concentrate, scribbling down notes and formulas, but your thoughts are a jumble of calculus and curiosity about your new tutor. The rest of the day passes in a blur. You barely remember your other classes, your mind preoccupied with preparing for tomorrow night. That evening, you gather your calculus materials, making sure everything is organized and ready. You even jot down a list of specific questions and problem areas you want to address. That night, you toss and turn, your mind racing with thoughts of complex equations and Wonwoo's unexpected charm. When you finally drift off, your dreams are a bizarre mix of calculus symbols and dark, knowing eyes behind glasses.

The next day drags on endlessly. You constantly check the time, willing the hours to pass faster. When 6:30 finally rolls around, you grab your backpack and head to the library arriving early, claiming a quiet table in the back corner. As you spread out your materials, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. The sound of approaching footsteps makes you look up, and there's Wonwoo, looking as put-together as always in a navy sweater and dark jeans. "Right on time," you say, trying to sound casual. He smiles, sliding into the chair next to you. "I'm nothing if not punctual. So, where should we start?" For the next hour, Wonwoo patiently guides you through problem after problem. His explanations are clear and concise, and you find yourself grasping concepts that had previously made you struggle. As you work through a particularly tricky equation, you can't help but notice how close he's leaning in, his shoulder nearly touching yours as he points out a crucial step. You catch a whiff of his cologne – a subtle, woodsy scent that's surprisingly appealing.

"See? It's all about breaking it down into smaller parts," he explains, his voice low and close to your ear. You nod, trying to focus on the numbers and not on the warmth radiating from his body. As the session progresses, you find yourself relaxing, even joking with Wonwoo about some of the more absurd word problems in your textbook. His dry sense of humor surprises and delights you, and you catch yourself laughing more than you have in weeks "You know," he says, leaning back in his chair, "you're not half bad at this when you actually focus." You feel a flutter of pride at his words. "Thanks," you say, smiling. "I guess I just needed the right teacher." Wonwoo's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you can see a spark of something behind his gaze. He clears his throat and glances at his watch. "We've been at this for almost two hours. Do you want to take a break?"

You nod, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles feel from sitting hunched over your textbook. "Yeah, that sounds good.” Wonwoo smiles “Maybe we could grab a coffee? I know just the place," He says, standing up and stretching. You try not to stare as his sweater rides up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin above his waistband. You follow him out of the library and across campus to a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away in a corner you've never noticed before. As you step inside, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans envelops you. The shop is dimly lit, with mismatched vintage furniture and local artwork adorning the walls. It's intimate and charming, nothing like the bustling campus coffee chains you usually frequent.

"This place is amazing," you say, taking it all in. "How have I never been here before?" Wonwoo smiles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "It's a bit of a hidden gem. I like to come here when I need to escape the chaos of campus life." You follow him to the counter, where a barista with long blonde hair greets Wonwoo by name. "The usual?" she asks, already reaching for a mug. "Please," he nods, then turns to you. "What would you like? Their lavender latte is excellent if you're feeling adventurous." "I'll try that then," you say, intrigued by his recommendation. As you reach for your wallet, Wonwoo waves you off. "My treat," he says. "Consider it payment for being such a good student today."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his gesture. "Thank you," you say, touched by his kindness. You follow Wonwoo to a cozy corner booth, sinking into the plush velvet seats. The soft glow of Edison bulbs hanging overhead casts a warm light across his features, softening the sharp angles of his face. You notice things about him you hadn't before. Like a small scar just above his left eyebrow, and the fact that is hair is not black but a very dark shade of brown. "So," you say, breaking the comfortable silence, "What made you decide to major in math? I mean, you're clearly good at it, but there must be a story there." Wonwoo looks at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's always just made sense to me, you know? There's a beauty in the logic of it all. Plus," he adds with a wry smile, "it impresses people at parties."

You laugh, surprised by his humor. "I can imagine. Though I have to admit, I've never been to a party where calculus was the main topic of conversation." Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Then you're clearly going to the wrong parties. What about you? What's your major?" "Psychology," you reply. "Interesting," Wonwoo muses. "So you're studying the complexities of the human mind while I'm dealing with the complexities of mathematics." You're struck by his observation, realizing there's more depth to Wonwoo than you initially thought.

As you talk, you find yourself opening up about your struggles with calculus, your fears of disappointing your parents. Wonwoo listens intently, his dark eyes focused on you. When you finish, he leans forward slightly. "I understand that pressure," he says softly. "It's not easy living up to others' expectations." There's a vulnerability in his voice that surprises you. For a moment, you see past the composed exterior to someone who might be struggling with his own doubts and insecurities. "How do you do it?" you ask. "How do you make it all look so effortless?" Wonwoo's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Trust me, it's not effortless. I just... I've learned to channel my anxiety into my work. But sometimes, I wonder if I'm missing out on other aspects of college life."

You're about to respond when the barista approaches with your drinks. She sets down two steaming mugs, the rich, floral scent of lavender rising from your cup. You give Wonwoo a quick glance, and he nods in thanks, offering a soft smile. "Here you go," the barista says before retreating behind the counter. You wrap your hands around the warm mug, feeling the heat seep into your palms, a comforting contrast to the coolness of the evening. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, the warmth in your chest spreading. "This place really is great. Perfect for getting away from everything." Wonwoo nods, taking a slow sip from his own drink. He seems more relaxed here, away from the chaos of the main campus. "Yeah, it's one of my favorite spots. Feels like a little slice of calm." His eyes flicker to you briefly, an unreadable look in them before he shifts slightly in his seat, settling back.

For a few moments, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the ambient hum of the café filling the gaps between your conversation. You take a sip of your lavender latte, savoring the sweet, floral taste, feeling oddly at peace. "So," Wonwoo finally breaks the silence, his voice a little softer now. "You mentioned earlier that you're majoring in psychology. What made you choose that?" You think for a moment, your fingers tracing the rim of your cup. "I guess I’ve always been curious about what makes people tick," you say. "Why we do the things we do, how we make decisions, how we deal with emotions... There's just so much to learn, you know? It feels like there's always something new to discover." Wonwoo listens, his gaze thoughtful, and you can tell he's really taking in your words. "It’s interesting," he murmurs, "how you’re trying to understand people while I’m trying to make sense of... numbers. There’s something kind of poetic about it."

You smile, surprised at how well he understands. "I guess we're not so different after all, huh?" He chuckles lightly, leaning back into his chair. "Seems like it." His eyes meet yours for a brief second, a spark of something flickering in them. "You know, I didn’t take you for a psych major, no offense. It's just the only thing I knew about you before tonight was that you partied a lot. You chuckle, a little embarrassed. “Yea, I guess I gave off that vibe before I got serious about school,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. “I always had a good time, but I’ve definitely been focusing more lately. Trying to get things back on track. Your parents threatening to pull you from school does that to you" Wonwoo nods in understanding, his expression thoughtful. "It's good that you're figuring things out. College can be a balancing act. But you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t give up easily. I think you’ll get there."

His words, simple but encouraging, make you feel a little lighter, like the weight of everything isn't so heavy anymore. "I hope so," you say, taking another sip of your latte. "Honestly, it’s nice to talk to someone who gets it. I feel like I’ve been caught up in my own head lately, especially with everything going on at home." Wonwoo's eyes soften at your words. "You don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know. It’s okay to lean on people." He pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, "And sometimes it’s okay to take a break too." You look at him, really look at him for the first time since you’ve sat down, and for the first time, you notice that there’s more to him than just the quiet, reserved guy who aces every class. There’s a quiet strength in him, a kind of stability that draws you in.

"Thanks, Wonwoo. I really appreciate everything," you say, your voice sincere. He smiles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, and for a second, you can’t help but feel a little spark of something more between the two of you. Something you can’t quite place but that feels strangely warm and comfortable. "Anytime," he replies, his voice low and steady. "And hey, don’t worry. You’ll figure out calculus. But if you ever need someone to talk to... about anything else, I’m here." You smile, feeling a little flutter of gratitude. "I think I just might take you up on that."

The two of you sit there for a while longer, enjoying your drinks and the quiet atmosphere of the café, talking about everything from school to silly memories to your favorite music. You realize how easy it is to talk to him, how comfortable you feel in his presence. And even though you’re still not sure what exactly is happening between you two, you can’t deny that something is starting to change. As the night grows later, the cafe begins to empty out, and you both realize it's getting late. You stand up, gathering your things, and Wonwoo does the same. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, a little reluctantly. "And for everything tonight. I feel like I actually get calculus now." You grin.

Wonwoo smirks, clearly pleased. "I’m glad I could help. Just don’t expect me to tutor you every night. I have my own assignments too." He says it with a teasing tone, but you can tell he’s enjoying this new dynamic between you. “I’ll take that as a challenge,” you reply, grinning back. "I hope you do." He replies as he opens the door for you. As you both step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of warmth linger between you, something subtle but unmistakable. The evening was a nice break from the grind of school, but there’s also this growing sense that maybe, just maybe, you’ve stumbled upon something more than just a tutoring session.

As you walk together back to campus, the conversation flows easily, the chemistry between you two undeniable. Wonwoo’s witty remarks and insightful comments seem to draw you in further, and you can’t help but find yourself eagerly looking forward to the next time you’ll see him, even though you try to play it cool. “So, same time tomorrow?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the excitement bubbling underneath. Wonwoo turns to you, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I think we can make that happen. But how about we meet at my dorm, I expect you to bring your A-game,” he teases, nudging you playfully with his shoulder “Deal,” you breath out.

The next day feels like it stretches on forever as you go through the motions of your classes, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wonwoo. The way he helped you the night before, the casual banter, and that lingering smile — it all replayed in your head in a loop. Something about him made everything seem easier, not just calculus, but the world in general. When evening finally rolls around, you find yourself feeling oddly nervous, though you try to brush it off as you gather your notes and make your way to his dorm. Your heart beats a little faster as you walk, the excitement of yesterday's conversation still fresh in your mind.

As you approach the dorm, you see Wonwoo waiting outside, leaning casually against the brick wall, his arms crossed talking to Mingyu, the quarterback on the football team. He’s wearing a simple white tee shirt and gray sweatpants, his usual composed demeanor softer, somehow more approachable in this setting. When he sees you, he straightens up and gives you a smile that makes your stomach flutter, before dismissing himself from their conversation. You watch as Mingyu walks away as Wonwoo walks to you.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, a playful glint in his eye. You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.” You glance at his outfit. "Glad we chose casual attire today" you poke at him. He chuckles rubbing the back of his neck. "Yea I just got out of the shower, I was at the gym with Mingyu." You make your was up the flight of stairs. "I didn't realize you two were friends." You say as you follow him. "Yea we grew up together. He's the closest thing I have to a brother." As you step inside his dorm, it’s clear this isn’t your typical college living situation. The space is surprisingly neat and organized, with a few bookshelves lining the walls and a desk cluttered with notebooks and textbooks, but in a controlled way, as if it was a deliberate mess. There’s a sense of order to it, just like him. You hang up your sweater on the coat hook, take off your shoes, and take a seat on his bed. Wonwoo follows you into the room, his footsteps quiet on the carpeted floor. He grabs his textbook from his desk and then turns to face you. There’s a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observes you settling in on his bed.

“You sure look like you’re comfortable there?” he asks, his tone teasing but still warm. He walks over and climbs up on the bed with you, close to you. "Comfortable?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. You smirk, leaning back slightly on your hands. "Very. I figured if I’m going to suffer through calculus, I might as well do it in comfort." Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head before sitting down beside you, placing the textbook between you both. "Alright, let’s get started then. No distractions this time." You nod, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that you’re sitting this close to him, the warmth of his body radiating next to you. You force yourself to focus as he starts explaining derivatives, his voice calm and patient.

The study session goes smoothly at first, but as the minutes tick by, you find yourself more aware of the way Wonwoo’s fingers move as he writes out equations, the slight crease in his brow when he’s thinking, the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he glances at you to check if you’re following along. At one point, you get stuck on a problem, groaning in frustration. "I swear, calculus was invented just to torture people." Wonwoo laughs, leaning in slightly as he looks over your work. "You're overcomplicating it. Look—" His hand brushes against yours as he reaches for your pencil, his touch brief but enough to send a tiny spark through you. You glance at him, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The air between you shifts, something unspoken lingering in the silence. He leans in slightly, eyes tracking your face. "It's all about perspective," he murmurs, his voice low and unexpectedly close. He's still holding your pencil, his fingers brushing against yours, and the simple act feels charged with an energy you can't quite explain. You can smell his cologne again, that same subtle, woodsy scent from the coffee shop, and it’s intoxicatingly distracting.

He doesn't pull away, and neither do you. The textbook lies forgotten between you, the complex equations blurring into meaningless symbols. His gaze flickers down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and you can see a flicker of something in the depths of his dark pupils – something that mirrors the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest. "You know," he says, his voice barely a whisper, "I never would have guessed you were so… focused." The word hangs in the air, loaded with a double meaning. You know he's not just talking about calculus anymore. "Focused?" you echo, your voice equally soft. He nods, his eyes still locked on yours. "Yeah. You seem… different than I expected." "Different how?" you ask, your heart pounding against your ribs. He hesitates for a moment, as if considering his words carefully. "More… intense. More… interesting."

A blush creeps up your neck, but you don't look away. You're mesmerized by him, by the way the light catches his glasses, by the slight furrow in his brow that suggests he's just as nervous as you are. "I could say the same about you," you reply, finally finding your voice. "I thought you were just… a genius. Turns out you're also… interesting." He chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Is that so?" You nod, unable to articulate the thoughts swirling through your head. You're acutely aware of the proximity of your bodies, the way your thighs are almost touching, the warmth radiating from him. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and you have the distinct feeling that something is about to change between you two.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Maybe… maybe we should take a break from calculus," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. "A break?" He nods, his gaze dropping to your lips again. "Yea. A break." He doesn't need to say anything else. You know exactly what he means. The calculus book slips off the bed and falls to the floor with a soft thud, unnoticed by either of you. His hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His touch is feather-light as it lingers in your hair, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs, his voice husky. You nod, your own voice lost somewhere in the sudden rush of adrenaline. "More than okay," you manage to say. That's all the confirmation he needs. His lips are soft when they meet yours, a tentative touch at first, as if he's testing the waters. But the kiss quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hand moves from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you instinctively reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss grows more urgent, more heated, and before you know it, you’re lying back against his mattress, Wonwoo hovering over you. His glasses are slightly askew, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him like this—disheveled and undone because of you— sends a thrill through you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, voice low, gaze searching yours. You nod, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Yes. I want this. I... I want you” He kisses you again, a searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You arch into him, your own hands exploring the contours of his back, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against yours. His lips trail down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, and you can't help the small moan that escapes your lips as he nuzzles your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin, and you gasp, clutching him tighter.

Your hands slide up under his shirt, your hands flat against the muscles of his back. It's not long before his mouth reaches the collar of your shirt. He pulls back, sitting on his knees as he looks down at you. "Can I take this off?" he asks breathlessly pulling on the bottom of your shirt. You eagerly shake your head yes "Please" you say. His hands make quick work of pulling your shirt off over your head, his hand coming down and sliding under your back. His hand gripping the clasp of your bra. "This too?" he ask's as his lips ghost over yours. You kiss him in response. His hand move quickly, undoing your bra before he pulls back from the kiss.

He gently removes your bra, his eyes darkening with desire as they rake over your exposed skin. The cool air brushes against you, making you shiver with anticipation. He leans in, his lips finding your skin again. His hands roam over yourbody, his touch setting you on fire. You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips as he presses himself against you, the evidence of his desire hard against your stomach. You moan softly, arching into him, wanting more.

Your hands gripping the hem of his shirt and tug. "Off" you say breathlessly. "As you wish" he says, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his sculpted chest and abs. The evadence of those work outs with Mingyu. Your hands immediately explore the hard planes of his muscles, earning a low groan from him. He captures your lips again. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a hot, wet path to your collarbone. You arch your back, craving more contact. His hand slides down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You gasp at the intimate touch, your hips rising to meet him. His fingers find your core, already slick with desire. He groans your name, the sound sending a thrill through you.

He coats his fingers in your wetness before finding your clit. With deliberate strokes, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reactions. You writhe beneath him, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. "Please," you beg, your voice barely a whisper. He smirks, his touch becoming more insistent, pushing you closer to the edge. You grip the sheets, your body tensing as the pleasure builds. He leans down, his lips finding yours again, swallowing your moans as you shatter around him, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you come undone. He grips the top of your leggings, pulling down both them and your underwear in one swift motion till they are a heap on the floor.

His hand moves lower, slipping two fingers inside you. You cry out at the sudden feeling, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them to hit that soft spot deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed, your hands gripping his sheets as he drives you wild. "More," you plead, your voice ragged. He slowly, adding a third finger and increasing the pace. The sound of your wetness fills the room, mingling with your moans and his groans. He leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The sensation of both pushes you over the edge again, your body convulsing as you come undone around his fingers.

He doesn't stop, continuing to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Your vision blurs, pleasure coursing through you. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his lips and tasting you. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He moves down your body, spreading your legs wide. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking and sucking your clit. You scream his name, your hands fisting in his hair as he drives you higher. His tongue lapping at your wet entrance, his fingers gripping your thighs as he devours you.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire as he continues his assault on your senses. His tongue circles your clit, teasing and tormenting you. You can't hold back any longer, your body tensing as another orgasm crashes over you. He doesn't let up, not even when the tears start to flow.

He finally pulls away, his lips slick with your arousal. He moves back up your body, his hard length pressing against your thigh. "How are you doing?" he ask's, concern shining in his eyes. "I need you to take then off now" you say as you push the waist of his sweats down his hips. He gives you a small chuckle before standing up and pulling his pants down. Your eyes widen at the site of his huge cock. This long and thick and has a head the prettiest shade of pink that currently is driping pre cum. He climbs baack ontop of you, pepering kisses along your skin till he meets your mouth again.

You reach down, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly. He groans, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to regain control. But you're not done with him yet. You guide him to your entrance, "Please Wonwoo" you moan. With one smooth thrust, his cock is deep inside you. You let out a moan from deep in your throat as your eyes slam shut. He still's. "Hey, hey. Open your eyes for me baby" he coos down at you. His hands pushing your hair out of the way, cupping your face. You peel your eyes open, finding his right above you. "Are you okay?" He ask's sweetly. Your chest filling with warmth. "Yea" you whisper out. "Do you want me to stop?" He starts to raise up on his arms. "NO" you say gripping onto his arms to stop him. "I just needed a minute to adjust. Your big Wonwoo" you watch as a blush creeps across his face, joined by a smile.

"You are going to be the death of me aren't you" he laughs "And you will be for me if you dont move" you push your hips forward to get your point across, instantly regretting it as you feel him nudge inside of you. A moan slipping from both of your mouths. In response he starts to move his hips. Slow and cautious at first, but your sounds quickly spur him on. He picks up the pace, growing more confidant as he watches you chant his name with each thrust. Your hands gripping the sheets to keep yourself grounded as the coil in your stomach tightens. Wonwoo leans down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. "You feel so good," he whispers, his voice rough. His fingers lace with yours, pinning them beside your head as he thrusts into you. The room filled with the wet sounds of his hips meeting yours, your small gasps and moans and his grunts every time you tighten around him.

"Wonwoo," you whimper, your back arching as the pleasure coils tighter inside you. He presses his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "I’ve got you, baby." His thrusts grow deeper, more deliberate, hitting that perfect spot. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. "You’re amazing," he breathes against your lips, his voice trembling as he fights to make this last. But the way you feel around him, it's unraveling his control. His free hand trails down your body, tracing over the curve of your waist before slipping between you, finding your clit and making your breath hitch. He starts with tight pressured circles. "Wonwoo, I—" Your voice breaks as you're vaulted over the edge. Your wall tightening around him as you release all over his cock. His movements turning erratic as he chases his own release behind you, burying hims cock deep inside you as he shudders with pleasure. Spilling deep inside you.

His body collapses onto of you, staying buried deep in you. He presses gentle kisses along your jaw, his touch now featherlight, a stark contrast to the intensity from moments ago. "You okay?" he murmurs, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your hip. You nod, a blissful smile stretching across your face. "More than okay." He chuckles softly, rolling onto his side and pulling you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling safe, cherished. "I have something to tell you" he says as he kisses the top of your head. "okay" you say hesitantly, fear creeping into your mind at what it could be.

"I have had a little crush on you for a long time now." He says voice just above a whisper. "But I'v been to scared to ever approach you. Afraid you wouldn't want to be with someone like me" Your breath catches at his confession, your heart squeezing in your chest. You pull back just enough to look up at him, your fingers tracing soft patterns over his chest. "Wonwoo," you whisper, his name a gentle reassurance on your lips.

His eyes flicker with vulnerability, a rare sight that makes your heart ache. "I didn't know how to approach you. You were always hanging out with the popular kids." he says "it felt like we were in two different worlds." You look up at him thinking back to just last week and you could see how that could be. "Well we're not anymore" you say kissing his chest. He laughs "Your right, so if I were to say ask you out on a date this weekend, your answer would be?"

You grin up at him, your fingers still tracing lazy circles against his skin. "I’d say yes," you murmur, watching as relief washes over his face, quickly replaced by the softest smile you've ever seen from him. "Yea?" he asks, as if he can’t quite believe it. You nod, tilting so your face is closer to his. "Yes, Wonwoo. A thousand times yes." you ghost your lips over his. His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It’s different from before. Less urgency, more depth. Like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you fit against him. When he pulls back, his eyes shine with something deeper than just desire. "Guess I should start planning the perfect first date, then," he says with a soft chuckle.

You smile, nuzzling into his chest. "Yea I guess you should."

Dividers by @strangergraphics

#wonwoo hard hour #wonwoo smut #svt wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo hard thoughts #svt smut #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen smut #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen wonwoo smut #wonwoo

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hyuny-bunny · 2 days ago

Text

seasons // series

part v

summary: when the real threat of losing you to someone else becomes reality, what will minho do?

warnings: mentions of sex, female masturbation

part iv • masterlist

Seeing him sit outside your door, almost as disheveled as you was the last thing you expected. He was wearing those godforsaken grey sweats again with a t shirt and flannel. The way his eyes raked up your body taking in your appearance made you feel small, seeing he was already dissecting every inch of you to figure out where exactly you had been.

"You weren't answering your phone... I figured if I sat out here you'd come out eventually..." He trails off, the question about where you were hangs off his tongue.

There's a brief pause as you hold his gaze trying to decide if you should answer with an explanation or another question. Silence follows as you move to your apartment door, opening it for both of you to step inside. If he wanted answers, he would have to work for it.

"... where.... where were you?" He said looking at you still trying to decipher what's happening at this very moment.

"I... I stayed the night with a guy I met last night."

The tension was thick as you swallowed, meeting his gaze. His face remained stoic, any hint of disapproval or disgust or anger was undetectable. He just nodded once as if to say he understood that was enough to answer his question.

"I'm sorry.. for not calling or texting to let you know I was fine... I'm also sorry for exploding on you yesterday. I know you didn't mean to be hurtful."

He nods softly looking down before speaking up.

"I'm really sorry for what I said... I just want you to be safe.. and happy most of all... Since, you seem fine, I'll head home."

He turns his back to you heading for the door.

"Minho.." He stops in his tracks looking up at you, keeping that stoic face. "You don't have to go... so soon..."

He sighs before walking over to you, he brings you in for a small hug before patting your shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

It's all he gives you as he walks out leaving you standing in the middle of your apartment, somehow feeling guilty. His lack of a reaction felt jilting.

Minho went straight home, changing into gym clothes. He grabbed his bag, heading straight to the place he knew he could get out his frustrations in a safe way.

Throwing punch after punch into the body bag that swings from the ceiling. It isn't until Chan intervenes that he stops, the older warning him he needs to stop before he breaks his hand. Out of breath and sweaty, he reluctantly sits on the nearby bench where Chan watches as he takes off the glove revealing a very irritated hand, skin littered with popped blood vessels that would turn into bruises soon.

"What's up with you?" Chan knew him all too well, he could always tell the difference between Minho coming to work out to get a work out in versus the beaten down version of Minho that sat in front of him.

"She... She went out yesterday and this morning when I went by her apartment, she was coming back from staying the night at someone's place...."

Chan was fully aware of the longstanding feelings Minho had for you. He had known for years. Watching him get into a few relationships hoping to fill the void of not being able to have you as a romantic partner. Or whenever you got into a relationship and Minho would sulk like a battered cat. Chan sighs as he looks ahead.

"Okay, let me ask you this, why is it any different now then when she was dating someone?"

Minho can't meet his gaze.

"You know her better then anyone else, it was a fling, a one night stand that probably meant nothing-"

"She never stays the night." Minho's voice cuts him off.

"What?"

"She never stays the night, she always gone home after. So she either she liked it enough... or liked him enough... to stay until the morning."

"That doesn't mean anything, she could've been too tired to go home or.." Chan stops himself realizing whatever rational explanation he gave him wouldn't console his pouty friend.

"I just want her to see me... see me as someone who can be there to take care of her... Someone who could actually love her the way she deserves..." Minho trails off looking down.

"You can't keep sulking like this every time there's a slight chance that she either gets a boyfriend, which I am not implying that this is what this is, or starts to find interest in someone else... Either fess up or live with this reality."

Minho stares at his hands as bruises bloom over his knuckles. He huffs before standing up heading to the showers.

You stir the sauce around in the pot as the smell of sage & butter waft through the place. You can't help how easily you find Minho's scent pushing through even as you cook, it was almost nauseating. You place a headphone in your as you continue talking to Hyunjin on the phone. He was busy tonight and well... your body needed time to recover.

"I have a question and you can't make fun of me or laugh," You say as you take a clean spoon tasting the sauce before moving to put your gnocchi into the pan with the sauce."

"Okay, what's your question?" He asks hearing you stir the pasta around through phone, he imagines what you're wearing as you cook.

"When you asked me about the last time I had sex..." You say hesitantly waiting for him to laugh.

"Yeah, what about it?" He says matter of factly as he recalls the event.

"How... How did you know that I hadn't... in a while? Is that some sort of Alpha instinct that's kept secret?"

He stifles his laugh at the 2nd question not wanting to break the promise he agreed to.

"No, not necessarily... It's the same as when you kiss someone who's never kissed anyone before. You just kinda... feel it?"

"Are you say I was bad in bed?" You ask teasingly.

"God, no! It's just... I could sense... it had been a while and... I never thought of myself as someone who was stellar at sex but at minimum I know how to pleasure my partner," he pauses for a moment before continuing, "So with you, I thought you were either just really sensitive or... it had been a while... so when I asked it wasn't because I knew but just needed to reaffirm my initial... assumption."

"I don't know if I should feel offended or not.." You joke trying to come off as reassuring him that you were prodding for answers.

He didn't come off as some typical macho Alpha who thought of himself as a sex god but it was reassuring to know he knew himself well enough to be able to pleasure his partners.

The two of you continued to talk as you had your dinner with a small glass of wine to unwind a bit.

"I should probably let you go, have to prepare for my stuff for my classes tomorrow." You say with a sigh feeling a bit warm from the wine that made your cheeks tinge with a warmth that felt like the sun beaming down on you.

"When can I see you again?" He asks with a stupid grin that you can hear through the phone.

"Hmm... How about Friday night?" You ask in a flirty voice.

"Killing me here, I don't think I can wait that long..."

"First week back is always a bit chaotic so you'll just have to survive!" You tease as you stretch from your seat at the dinner table. He laughs warmly before reluctantly agreeing.

After letting him go from the call you clean up the mess from your dinner packing it away for a lunch for you and Minho tomorrow, an olive branch lunch that's packed with the a blueberry muffin you made for the morning. Food and gift giving was a mutual language between the two of you, that often meant gifting each other lunch or sweets.

You finally make your way to bed staring up at the ceiling as you try to get comfortable. You scroll through instagram for a bit swiping through peoples stories before you're forced to do a double- no, triple take at Chan's story. Chan was a friend of Minho and Jisung that you hung around often when you had group outings or house parties for 3Racha's demo releases. You had grown a bit closer to him with every time you saw him, he was another Alpha who had an understanding for your frustrations for other alphas of the male population.

The video was Minho boxing, repeatedly hitting a body bag... wearing was quite possibly the sluttiest thing a man could wear to the gym. It was a black compression shirt that the gave the perfect outline of his tits pecs in the shirt. There were very few occasions you had seen true anger or frustration from Minho, but it was obvious he was heated as he took repeated swings to the body bag that swung from the ceiling with the force of every hit.

Would it be wrong to admit how incredibly turned on it made you to see every muscle in his arms engaged making his pec's move and his stature seem so much bigger?

Either way it didn't stop you from you from watching it over and over until you felt the familar wetness pool in your underwear. Forcing you to reach beneath the fabric as you turned over rubbing your clit while imagine what it'd be like for him to fuck you with same aggression he took out on that body bag. Even as you orgasmed you couldn't help choking out his name in a whimper muffled by the pillow.

The next morning Minho came by to pick you up, driving you both to campus as you had worked out your schedules to work out so that you two would either start at the same time and likely end your days at the same time. He waited down stairs outside of his jeep waiting for you to come out, he always parked and stepped out to be the one to open your car door.

He watched you emerge with your shoulder brown satchel bag on and a bag of what looked like food. His eyes took in the way your hair perfect fell around your face, the perfectly slouched light wash of jeans and white buttoned blouse.

"Good Morning, Min, ready to deal with the nightmare of parking on the first day back?" You ask teasingly as you walk up to his side. He gives you a soft smirk rolling his eyes as he opens the door for you letting you climb in to the car waiting for you to settle before closing it and getting into the driver seat.

He wore his typical, light wash of jeans with an oversized grey hoodie that always looked so much cozier on him then anything else. It was typical for him as he didn't always want to wear sweats despite being a dancer needing the free flow of the material.

"The only thing I'm looking forward to is finally being able to choose good songs for the choreographies this year." He says as he starts the car.

Minho had recently stepped up into the role as captian of their dance crew this year. He was nominated by the last captain and most of his juniors, surpassing some of the seniors in which it would've been their last year to lead as captain. He had been the youngest member to get the position in the last 10 years.

"Oh that's right! What time are you supposed to meet today?" You ask as you open the bag of food you had brought.

"3:30pm, I'll be going over the rules and expectations then getting the new dancers settled in. I'm a bit nervous about getting them to see me as a leader of the group now.." He grips the steering wheel a bit tensely.

"It'll come with time but I'm sure you got it. And if they don't, then they're free to go else where if they don't like it." You say offering him words of encouragement. He glances over giving you a soft smile thanking you.

The car is filled with chatter and laughter, an easy feeling, a stark contrast to what yesterday felt like. A mutual unspoken understanding between the two of you to move forward. He finds parking in a building near your class as, before getting out you hand him the lunch you made him.

"Here, your lunch and a blueberry muffin of apology..." You say a bit quieter than you meant.

"Apology? For what?" He tilts his head taking the food staring at you with those endearing brown eyes.

"I don't know.. I just felt guilty about how worried I made you..." You say looking at him a bit solemnly.

"You don't need to apologize for anything, I was an asshole... However, I still will be devouring this muffin with or without an unnecessary apology." He says gleefully as he takes a bite moaning dramatically as the taste hits his mouth, making you laugh as he makes a mess of himself.

He couldn't help but feel simultaneously guilty and warm at the idea that you felt so bad that you needed to bake him a muffin for him to feel remedied. His dramatic eating of the muffin made the unease you felt from the day before lighter.

The two of you walked towards the english building, light chatting as he threw an arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him. Minho enjoyed the feel of you close against him knowing once you pulled away, the scent would be all over him for the rest of the day. The sweet smell of dark cherries and almond bitters that made him feel like he just walked into a bakery. He kisses the top of your head before parting ways, it was something he did often but this time it made your heart do a flip.

Moving through your classes with much ease, it's around 4pm you finish the last. You walk through the campus, taking in the breeze that blows through the shaded areas as the sun sits still high in the sky. You find the arts building, sitting on an empty bench with a book as you decided to wait for Minho to finish his dance class. You glanced through the window looking to see Minho at the head of the class leading, he looked like he was starting to go through the choreo he had made a few weeks ago to start the class on. You can see Felix's blonde hair bobbing around making you laugh as you see his half ponytail flopping around with every move.

Your laughing is cut short as you gasp for air seeing Hyunjin's reflection in the mirror dancing beside Minho. His body moving fluidly as he follows Minho's instructions, you duck down beneath the window contemplating on running away. It's too late for decision to be made as Jisung begins to approach about to yell your name in typical Jisung fashion. Abandoning your belongings on the bench as he begins to pass approach the open door that leads directly into the dance room, as you approach Jisung at a desperate speed to clamp your hand over his mouth, it's too late as he utters the first letters forcing you turn just in time to become in line of sight of Minho and Hyunjin who glance in your direction. They both wave with a smile on their face before the realization hits that their eyes are on the same person.

part vi

#skz smut #skz scenarios #skz hard thoughts #skz imagines #skz x you #hyunybunnywrites #hyunjin x reader #lee know x reader #hyunjin smut #lee know hard thoughts #lee know smut #lee know x you #leeknow x reader #lee know oneshot #skz x reader #skz fanfic

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wlwsoccerfics · 18 hours ago

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That was scary(LucyBronzeXCatleyReader)

Summary: you have a medical emergency(Appendix) and your girlfriend is freaked out.

You have felt sick all day and had some pain in your stomach. It was just one sided though. The pain was just terrible and that said something cause you have a very high pain tolerance.

You were in the changing room with the team. Trying to tie the laces of your football boots, but the movement almost makes you vomit. Your girlfriend is watching you with worry in her eyes. But doesn't say anything cause you have told her multiple times today that you were fine.

"period cramps?" Keira whispered into lucys ear. Lucy shook her head no. Knowing it wasn't time for that yet.

"i don't know. She keeps telling me how good things are and that she is fine!" Lucy stated and sighed softly.

You could tell that you started to develop a fever, the pain was also getting worse by the Minute but when you tried to walk it off, you didn't go far. Beding over in pain. Groaning softly before going down, hitting the floor, crying out in pain.

"Babe!" Lucy kneeled down in front of you, checking you over. She was panicking but tried to appear calm for your sake.

"what hurts?" She asked.

"stomach." You cry out. She picked you up and carried you to the medics. Who checked you over quickly before putting you into the ambulance that was there for the Game and you got a Ride to the hospital. Lucy never leaving your side. Keira was calling Leah so she could inform your sister Steph about what had just happened.

You were brought into surgery right away. Cause your Appendix had ruptured. Lucy was in the waiting room, pacing around. Sending Updates about you into the Team Chat. Then her Phone went off. It was your sister.

"Lucy, how bad is it?" Your sister asked right away. it was evident in her voice that she had been crying.

"her appendix had ruptured. She is in surgery right now!" Lucy explained. Trying not to tear up. Truth was she felt guilty for not dragging you to a doctor cause you claimed to be fine.

"we will be there in an hour or so. Traffic is crazy! Kyra is driving!" She replied rambling on. It was clear how worried your sister was about you. So was Kyra, who was not just Stephs little pest, but also yours.

"Drive Safe Guys. We don't need another one in the Hospital!" Lucy told them. She probably has never been so scared in her Life.

Kyra and Steph arrived just in time for the doctor to explain to Lucy how the surgery went.

"the surgrey went without any complications. We would like to keep her over night and if things are okay by tomorrow she can leave. But she has to rest. So is there someone that can take care of her?" The doctor looked around.

Lucy, Steph & Kyra all said yes at the same time.

"she has lots of people that can help her!" Lucy stated.

It was around 2 hours later and you were fully awake now.

"well this was an experience i could have done without." You replied tiredly. Your sister looked at you.

"us too, y/n! Us too! I mean you scared the crap out of me!" Steph replied and i wasn't even there when you collapsed!" She stated. Sighing softly.

"You scared me too, weirdo!" Kyra answered.

"i was there and honestly it was the scariest Moment of my Life!" Lucy told you and kissed your forehead. You frowned softly.

"i am sorry for scaring you! Wasn't my Intention!" You said and took Lucys Hand in yours. "Honestly i didn't know it was that bad!" You admitted. Squeezing your girlfriends hand gently. She squeezed it back just as gently.

"maybe next time someone ask you If you are okay, answer honestly and don't play it down!" Lucy let you know her thoughts.

"i agree with Lucy. Seriously y/n, it's okay to be honest! You don't have to be strong all the time." Steph said and looked at you with worry in her eyes.

"this was warning enough in hope!" Kyra answered. And you nodded your head softly.

"yes it was! I promise i will ask for help and don't always try to tough it out anymore!" You let them know. Offering them a small smile.

Lucy stayed with you through the night and you got to leave the hospital to go home the next day but had to rest. Lucy made sure you did. But she wasn't alone. No Kyra and Steph also stayed for a few days before going back to Training.

The Team came to visit you for the next two weeks. Then you were allowed to start with doing some light workouts.

It took you a little over a month for you to be fully back on your feet but as soon as you were you proposed to Lucy and she said yes.

So now the two of you had a Wedding to plan.

#woso x reader #lucy bronzexreader #lucy bronze x catley reader #woso fic #chelsea reader x lucy bronze

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damnfeelings09 · 1 day ago

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Valentine's day countdown: First date - Shadow the Hedghog

Pairing: Shadow the hedghog x female reader Tags: fluff, comfort, awkward crush. Word count: 750. Prompt: you and Shadow have been friends for a while, and although he has a massive crush on you and is dying to have you as more than a friend he's not willing to take that step (secretly he's very insecure okay) after a little encouragement from Sonic he asked you out he never imagined how it would end. Notes: First valentine's day prompt and what better way to start it than with my eternal love Shadow. I'm love/romance depraved so these promts will be fluff in its cheesiest and purest form (like melting chocolate in a super sweet cotton candy ice cream with a Cherry on top kind of sickeningly sweet) This time I'll try a different style so let me know if you like it.

Shadow wasn't afraid of anything. He was the ultimate lifeform after all, then… why did his pulse quicken every time he was near you? Why did he feel his palms get wet each time you smiled at him? Why did his fight or flight response activated every time you were there?

Shadow wasn't afraid of anything. But maybe, maybe he was afraid of what he felt for you, afraid that he would become addicted to the feeling of you caressing his cheek, afraid that he couldn't go on without seeing the sparkle in your eyes every day, afraid of getting used to the warmth of your hand on his, afraid that if he said a word of what he felt he would lose you, because let's be honest, who could love a monster like him?

He was unsure, and every time that happened he went to Rouge, however the bat was not at home, so he went to his second best worst option. Sonic

Sonic with his usual cocky grin as Shadow explained the situation. Sonic, the same Sonic that he punched every chance he got just to release some stress and because he enjoyed it, the same Sonic that screwed up time and time again running away from Amy was the one that Shadow had decided to approach for romantic advice.

“Just don't think too much about it Shads” Sonic had said ”She likes you, trust me”

“Easier said than done”

“Well, it's either that or you'll be stuck with ' what could’ve been' forever.”

Honestly, Sonic hadn't been much help, but at least he had planted the seed of doubt in Shadow. What would be the worst that could happen if he kept his feelings to himself? You would probably find someone, that someone would take your hand, receive your caresses, taste your lips and you would forget about him, leaving him aside, alone, unloved.

No. Shadow wouldn't let that happen, the little bit of love he got from you was too addictive and he wasn't about to let anyone else have it. He had made up his mind and although the chances of you feeling the same were low they still weren't 0. He still had no idea how he managed to do it, well maybe he had a little idea. He knew he had walked you home, he knew he had said a few embarrassing things as you walked together making you laugh, what he didn't know was where he had gotten the courage to ask you out when you were about to enter your house.

“See you tomorrow Shadow,” you said waving goodbye to him.

“Wait” he said almost in a whisper. You turned, shaking your head to the side “I... ah...” he scratched his head.

“Is everything okay?”

“I wanted to... I wanted to ask you out.”

“Sure! You know I love going out with you Shadow”

“As... in a date”

“Oh...” oh? What did that mean, it wasn't the yes he was expecting but it wasn't a denial either, it was as if he had surprised you, as if you didn't imagine he could have feelings for-

“I'd love to” you cut off his thought bringing him back to earth. The smile on your face showed shyness but the pink blush on your cheeks and the loud thumping of your heart confirmed to Shadow that his feelings were reciprocated. “I... I'd like you for a while, just didn't know of you might... like me too” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear meeting your gaze with Shadow's causing him to blush. If this were a cartoon his eyes would have turned into hearts and little blue birds would fly around his head.

“I've been feeling like this for a while too, just...”

“It’s okay” you smiled “I'll see you tomorrow for our date” you walked up to him and deposited a kiss on his cheek, waving your fingers in a goodbye motion and closing the door behind you. Little did he know that you slid down the door frame, hand on your heart triyng to stop the rush in your body.

Shadow stood outside your door, his hand holding the very spot where your lips had touched his cheek trying to capture the warmth of your touch, his stomach felt funny as if something was churning inside him just remembering your kiss. It was then that he realized that maybe allowing himself to be happy wasn't such a bad thing.

#shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow fanfic #shadow the hedeghog #shadow the hedgehog #sth au #mobian x human #sth #shadow #ValentinesDayOneshotCountdown

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kathelovecatsandfeminism · 3 days ago

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He's Rick

warnings: rick grimes x reader; angst with happy end; smut; a little of spanking; pet names; rick needs a hug; mention of lori, carl and judith; p in v; unprotected sex; confession of feelings; fluff; heavy eye contact; no use of y/n; The spelling has not been fully revised and it is always good to remember that English is not my first language, so be nice. I think that's all.

Night had already fallen over Alexandria, but unlike sleeping on the road, here the darkness was not dangerous, the dim lights of the streetlamps dispelled the darkness, as did the lights from the windows of some houses. It didn't seem real, a place to really live, a house to take care of and a comfortable bed to sleep in, clean clothes, vegetable gardens for the kitchens and generators bringing the heat of the lights, it didn't seem real after so much death, so much human decay that had passed before your eyes.

It also seemed very ungrateful of you to be feeling so miserable while others celebrated the blessing of being able to “celebrate” the life that walls provide. You still didn’t know how you felt about it, “normality” was almost a stranger to you now. Your mother would have said “ungrateful girl.” You didn’t like to think about her.

But the sadness was there, settled in your chest, painful and suffocating after so much crying, eyes red as the tip of your nose. That was why you were standing in the kitchen, dressed in a pretty dress — a gift from Deanna — you wouldn’t allow yourself to be seen like this. It’s funny how the most subtle thing can make us crumble. So why?

…..ah grimes, that was it wasn’t it?

It all started with an innocent conversation, because the devil is in the small details.

You were invited by Deanna for a short horse ride around the city, a bureaucratic conversation, you always knew how to sniff them out at your old job, at home. The group was causing problems, no….. no, Rick was causing problems and you were Rick's right-hand man, it was rational to turn to you, wasn't it?

But again no. For Deanna it was natural to turn to his woman, because is this what you were, obviously….. weren't you?

She must have noticed the moment when confusion turned to realization and ended in disappointment on your face, because she - very delicately - apologized for the assumption, it took a lot of strength in you to utter a simple "don't worry". The ride home was silent.

An observation took over your thoughts, between constant escapes, arguing and surviving today to fight tomorrow, you never had the privilege of being able to think about the meaning of your relationship with Rick, worse, you never wanted to actually face what you knew you felt for him. There are commanding words of priorities in your mind that developed to find a home here, somewhere along that path the two of you became inseparable, to the point that seeing one could have found the other too.

You knew him from before the zombies, your father was an officer of his officer, you saw each other a few times and talked even less, he seemed like a good man. But now looking back he was always there, he covered your back - even too much - and you did the same for him. He helped him with the children, maybe a little more than the others. It had been a while since Carl had asked you to comb his hair, even with your fingers, it had become a habit and you knew who he was pretending you were.

Judith was still a little thing who liked to sleep with you

Rick helped you with your younger sister - teenagers are worse in the apocalypse - she couldn't help but believe in the loss of her parents and sometimes she was filled with rage because you hadn't come back to look for them - but there was nothing to come back to - she screamed and pushed you like a child, in those moments it was Rick who calmed her down, you never knew how he did it.

Not that everything was perfect, you fought too and badly, two stubborn people when they thought they were sure of something. It was Rick who made peace most of the time.

No matter what happened, one would find the other like a magnet, he had promised you that when your world fell apart and only he was there to lift it up. It was in his arms that you slept on very cold nights. Having him seemed right, there was something there, something that until then you pretended not to see.

But did you really have him?

Admitting to Deanna that you weren't hurt, it burned your skin and the wounded pride created a balloon in your throat that made it hard to breathe, you cried.

For some reason you felt so small and ashamed, you didn't have the courage to question him, what if he thought there was nothing to question? just a good friend and nothing more? Your head hurt, because everything was so confusing, you weren't ready to see him again.

It had been a week since the conversation with Deanna, a week since you gave a flimsy excuse to Rick and Carl, that Michonne needed you close. A week since you ran away like a coward. It was in her kitchen where you cried.

but he's Rick, he knows you

So it was no surprise when he appeared at your door - Michonne's door actually - breathless and blushing as if it had been hard for him to come here.

"hi"

"hi" came out almost silent

You both spent a few seconds standing in the doorway, his eyes were so warm - even if more tired than usual in contradiction to the new reality that out of habit or a second nature of yours, you moved away so he could enter, there was not a single day that you denied him from entering your life or your heart.

You walked towards the kitchen and in silence he followed you as he always did.

Rick in the dim yellow light of the kitchen looked more handsome than ever. He had gotten rid of all that beard, his hair was still wet and combed back, with curls at the ends indicating that he had just gotten out of the shower. He wore a white shirt that was tight on his biceps, a little short above the waistband of his pants, a worn blue wash, he always looked good in blue - he looked younger - and he wore those damn boots on his feet.

He was still as handsome as the day he came back into your life, a certain warmth settled in your chest.

However, as much as he looked good, he also looked defeated, shoulders slumped and red, tired eyes with a big crease above them.

Like when you finally recognize that there is something in the corner of your eye and now it is no longer possible to ignore that space, after having looked at what you felt for him, you could not ignore the desire to be held by him, to kiss the newly discovered skin, to hug him tightly.

Stopping in the middle of the kitchen, you turned around, putting some distance between you two. You expected him to break the silence and reject you right away, maybe that would be the “easy” solution, after that you could move on and pretend nothing had happened, but when he held your gaze with such tenderness and sadness at the same time, you quickly looked away, unable to accept anything from him, that was going to hurt. He took a step closer with his arm half raised as if he wanted to comfort you, but he hesitated. The truth is that he knew why you were running away from him like a wounded deer. He had insisted enough with Deanna to get a half answer and then it was easy to put everything in place.

There was this big elephant in the room of unsaid things, where to start? Rick wasn't proud that he had placed you in a limbo of uncertainty, the dynamic between you two was so domestic in contrast to the reality you lived in, like when he fell asleep in your arms while you brushed your hair with your fingers after a really, really bad day and he didn't feel worthy of you or how despite his distraught state, his eyes always softened when they met your face.

He wished he had told you how he had come to keep Lori's wedding ring - a bitter reminder of everything he had been through - in his pocket because your expression would turn sad whenever you played with it on his fingers.

Oh, and Lori...

He couldn't protect her, no matter how hard he tried, it wasn't enough in the end, and then came the nightmares in which he couldn't save you, he always became more distant after them. Irrationally loving you seemed to cast a dark shadow over you, putting you in danger, but moving on without you? It seemed to condemn him to wander with a big hole in his chest.

He spent so much time holding back, as if his mere touch would make you break.

Rick was a cowardly and stupid man, incapable of giving himself to you, fearing the day he would lose you.

A stupid and cowardly man... a coward... a coward, he was already losing you and worse, because you thought he didn't want you.

"I'm a coward" came out without realizing it, he had assumed that serious tone he used when he took control of a situation, the southern accent was stronger. He caught your attention, but your eyes continued to focus on a point behind him, always avoiding his eyes.

"What?"

Rick took another step closer.

"I'm a cowardly man who doesn't deserve you" confusion adorned your face in the dim light of the weak yellow light.

“Too cowardly to admit it…..damn it!” He ran his fingers through his hair, anxious.

Rick looked disconcerted, lost, it wasn’t normal to see him like this only when his shoulders were very tired and he inevitably ran to find some comfort in you.

Seconds of silence passed, as if he carefully considered his next words.

Then the moment passed and his shoulders straightened.

He slowly approached you while you backed away like a skittish animal, he stared so intently into your eyes that you felt completely exposed. The slow chase ended when your back hit the kitchen counter, cornered, the proximity, how intimate everything seemed, your mind spun in circles chanting his name. That was one of the problems, he took you out of your orbit.

both of his calloused hands went up your neck to cradle your face, so delicate, now the only distance between your bodies were the atoms of air. his touch almost burned your skin, even if you were reluctant you melted with the heat that emanated from his body.

it was no longer possible to escape from those blue eyes, noses brushing, mouths open and tense breathing “It’s a broken world and you’re the only thing that puts it back together” he continued to rest his forehead on yours “til my last breath, I am yours because I love you”

Shock took over your face, never in your most idyllic dreams would you imagine this scenario, so vulnerable because he loves you. Love is too strong a word to play with. Rick wasn’t the type to play with his word.

“you love me?” you asked in a whisper, afraid of the answer, then he started running his fingertips through your hair, over your face, saying a silent “beautiful” more to himself than to you “I think that’s what it’s called, isn’t it?” he looked at you curiously “I always come back to you, even if it’s crawling, but I come back. It’s your face that my eyes search for in a crowd, it’s your opinion that I seek before any decision, it’s your smile that makes all this mess worth it, it’s another reason to survive and when I see you with the children….. God, it’s like coming back to a home I didn’t know I had, it seems almost immoral to have this at the end of the world… I’m afraid the universe is waiting for me to take what I want just to take it from me, believe me, I couldn’t go on without you. So yes, I love you.”

You knew many things about Rick, how he likes his drink, about his grandfather in the war, about how to read his gestures, but mainly that he was a man with a good and kind heart and above all honest.

The light made your eyes bigger and brighter with the tears that were now flowing, which were becoming a sob and then a loud cry, but it was okay, he is Rick, he knows you, so smiling and sighing a “come here” he held you tight in his arms, wetting his shirt. Slowly he adorned the top of your head with kisses, reducing the crying, the tears gave way to a big smile. You pulled away so you could look into his eyes, which to your surprise were also teary, but he smiled broadly, both of you sharing a look.

Silence fell in the room, but it was light and calm, of accomplices who had shared something very sacred. Rick took one of her hands and lifted it into the air as if preparing for a waltz. “In a perfect world, I would have told you this after a fancy dinner and taken you dancing.” You couldn’t help but smile, he was always an old-fashioned guy.

“I like to dance.”

“I know.” Using the hand that was in the air, he spun you around in his arms.

“You always know.” It was like being a little girl again, cheeks burning and all.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, humming in agreement.

“You should.”

In the blink of an eye, he had you in a very tender and deep kiss, as if he regretted all the kisses he had wanted to give you but couldn't. It didn't take long for him to become fiercer, hungrier, his hands were clenched in the back of his shirt, as if he was afraid the moment would evaporate like a dream.

Testing the waters, one of Rick's hands went down to your hip, gently, but giving it a light squeeze. You sighed, there was a hunger in you that was no longer possible to contain

"Take me to the room, please" you asked slyly

"Yes, ma'am" and as if you weighed nothing he picked you up and you wrapped yourself around his hips, sharing small kisses as you went up the stairs. Between kisses, you found yourselves unable to hold back your giggles, it was good.

Entering your room, he carefully laid you down on the bed and for a brief minute just kept looking at you as if he needed to convince himself that this was real, that something good and beautiful could be born in such a vile world. The moment was only broken when you extended your hand inviting him. Gratefully, he took off his white shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room and lay down between your legs.

It was strange to be like this with him, but at the same time so familiar, as if it were right. You pulled him in for another hungry kiss with tongues, teeth and all, running your fingertips over the muscles of his back, pressing him against you. He moaned into your mouth, needing his hips against yours, eliciting a moan from you.

He went down to your neck, distributing wet kisses to soothe the marks he was leaving - something intimate in him liked the idea of claiming you publicly - going down to your collarbone and only stopping over the bust of your dress, searching your eyes in a silent request. He laughed at the intensity with which you nodded.

He made sure to lower the straps very slowly, but it didn't take long for him to grab one of her breasts as soon as they were exposed. While he licked and sucked one, he played with the tip of the other with his fingers. When he was satisfied, he reversed the order.

By now you were a mess of moans and whimpers, rubbing against him in search of any friction.

That day Rick discovered many things about you: first, you were loud - a pleasant surprise -; and second, you were sensitive as hell and he was going to take advantage of that.

He continued to move down your body, trailing chaste kisses along your clothed belly, nibbling on your dress, lingering on your lower abdomen while one of his hands lovingly brushed the skin on the inside of one of your thighs, almost reaching where you wanted, but pulling back just in time. He came back to my eye level "do you want to be good for me?" Oh, he wished he had a camera to capture your reaction, all blushing and goosebumps. Third thing - although he already suspected that.

No answer. Then the hand on your inner thigh went straight to your clothed center, taking you by surprise “baby, talk to me”

Your brain was already so far away and started to nod and only then remembered to answer “I want” clearly satisfied with the answer he got up from the bed, you almost protested against the loss of contact but when he pulled your legs to the edge of the bed and knelt between them, you already knew it was over

“this comes off” you lifted your hips so he could take off your panties “and this stays here for now” he bunched your dress at your waist.

You already knew you were very wet but when the cold air of the room hit you and Rick ate you with his eyes even more blush painted your skin.

He brought his lips closer to your pussy, blowing only to see you squirm, smiling satisfied with the result. He looked at you with such hunger, you couldn't hold his gaze, but more knowing than you were his hand leaving a slap on your right thigh. When you turned your eyes to him it was clear on his face, pupils dilated in a stern look, jaw clenched, don't do that again.

So you did... or tried to because when he gave a first slow and long lick between your folds by instinct your head fell back before you could come to, another slap, on your left thigh now.

Damn bastard Rick Grimes

Leaning on your elbows, you looked at him again, trembling with desire as he sucked your clit with just the right amount of pressure. You were already high at this point because Rick would eat you out like a starving man. After a few more licks, two thick fingers poked your entrance, smearing themselves with your arousal and, to torture you, as a final blow, he inserted them while he curved them, hitting that exact spot - it was so different from yours, better, bigger and they were Rick's - and he went back to sucking on your spot. Thank God no one was home because you looked pathetic in his hands.

All you could think about was the pressure and the heat and the unfolding and growing in your belly, it was too much. Your back arched, your toes curled as you were a mess, reciting his name like a prayer

Rick…….Rick…….Rick

When his big hand reached for yours to hold while he pressed it against your hip to keep you in place while he intensified his actions until your peak reached you and you rode him fucking Rick's face

you came hard and loud, singing his name

he made sure to take every drop of you until overstimulation. When he got up from the floor, you could barely support yourself on your elbows to look at him. He licked his lips like after a good meal. Sucking his fingers and letting out a "sweet" he rested one of his knees on the bed and pulled you by the torso like a rag doll - very soft now - making you sit up "arms up" and he removed the dress over your head. He seemed so careful "good girl" he says and you couldn't help but tremble at those words, you wanted him inside you SO MUCH, so your hands flew to undo his belt and pants

"anxious?" oh that cheeky smile would kill you

“you have no idea”

“Ah….I can imagine, hon” he finished by giving a sweet kiss on the top of your head

When he stepped out of his pants and you were face to face with his red, veiny cock, already weeping with pre-cum. You wanted to feel the weight of it on your tongue - another time perhaps because you could swear you would start crying if you didn't feel him inside you soon.

You lay on your back in the center of the bed, spreading your legs wide for him. If you looked like the hot mess you felt, you would be lost.

He asked for your hand and you gave in. When he placed himself between your legs it was as if he belonged nowhere else than here, with you. He spent a minute hovering over your body, his eyes examining you, recording every detail, you were a very beautiful mess. He kissed you again, less hurriedly but equally hungry, his tongue playing knowingly with yours, biting your lips, pulling you towards him.

Anxiously, you tried to rub your hips against his - of course he noticed - he took your hand in his and placed it on his cock - you couldn't resist and applied some pressure, he shuddered.

With his hand on yours controlling the movement he brought the tip to your folds and played with them, making you squirm with anticipation, lubricating you well, threatening to enter. It was only after you called his name tearfully that he thought you had suffered enough, but Rick couldn't contain himself, he wanted to engrave this moment very well in his memory. You were all open on the bed for him, whimpering his name, you became very gentle in his hands, it was fascinating.

You had your heads together, staring at the spot that connected you when he finally entered you, both of you letting out a long sigh. He slowly went all the way in, until you felt his balls pressed against your ass - and god you could feel every bit of him, that stretch, filling you up just right - only for him to pull back almost all the way out and slam back into you harder. “look at me, baby” he called your attention.

Rick was an eye contact guy and you did your best to maintain it as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. He built a steady, deep, passionate rhythm, hitting that spot that made your brain short out every time, your back arched, you wrapped your legs around his waist, skin to skin, hot, sweaty, your hips racing to meet his. You smiled victoriously when he buried his nose in your neck and started moaning in your ear, your knot was tightening.

The temperature of the room had increased, a mixture of sounds of skin slapping, your meaningless pleas in the cloud of pleasure, Rick who will now return to mark your neck to suppress his own moans.

“Rick….please….please” you didn’t know what you were asking for but he is Rick, he knows you. his face came out of hiding in your hair, he gave you a quick kiss on the lips and pushed your knees against your chest, the new angle would be the death of you and by Rick’s state his too whose thrusts began to become erratic. You were very close to the edge, on the border between pleasure and consciousness and when Rick began to make circles on your clit you took his mouth in yours suppressing a loud moan as you came, your vision going white. Rick came soon after by the way you were squeezing him as you came down from your high. He may have drawn blood from your lips when he bit your lip as he released long, thick loads of semen inside you draining you of every last drop. He remained inside you even after he softened, the state of euphoria preventing you from thinking about the consequences.

You both collapsed together, it was a comforting feeling to feel his weight against you, you felt safe.

When his attention turned to study your face again, he looked calm, relaxed, happy - something very hard to see - he had such loving eyes and they looked at you, he took his time like that, serious, focused. You would never know, but in that intimate moment he made a promise, he would not allow anything or anyone to hurt you, he would not allow it. He knew you could handle it, you had already proven yourself many times, but you were still the woman he loved and nothing else mattered

it was you who took him out of the sea of their thoughts

“hey, rick”

“hm”

“I love you too”

“yeah?”

“yeah”

He smiled broadly, inverting the position of the two and brought the back of his hand to sprinkle kisses there, that tender gesture made you smile. Rick was yours.

.....................................................

Today had been a long day of work in the city, the kind where you pretend you didn't notice you were taking a little longer to shower. It was the first place you went after getting home, the murder house - your house - that fact still made you smile at nothing. Before going into the bathroom to shower, you passed Carl and a small blond head heading out, in a hurry but not enough.

"Should I worry, Carl?" Dusk was slowly falling outside.

"No, no, Carol's new recipe."

"Where's your dad?"

"Daryl," the boy shouted over his shoulder. You answered with a low "Okay," too tired to think about it now. Right after the door slammed.

Okay, you may have taken too long because when you came out of the bathroom there was a dress on the bed, the one Rick liked to take off. Half curious, half suspicious, you put it on and went downstairs to get something to eat. Most of the lights downstairs were off except for the ones in the kitchen. You walked there, only to find a very well-dressed Rick - a button-down shirt with the tops open and black jeans - dinner on the table and a humble flower in his hand. “Rick” you called affectionately, tilting your head to the side with a smile on your face you were walking towards him but he stopped you in the middle of the way with a signal to stop, you don’t know exactly where he was hiding, but suddenly a melody started playing through the room, he came back shyly, took your hands in his, still holding the flower and you started dancing alone in the kitchen and you don’t remember feeling so loved because he's rick, he knows you

#the walking dead #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes fluff #twd fanfiction #twd fic #andrew lincoln #andrew lincoln fanfic #rick grimes smut #rick grimes angst

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neovillains · 2 days ago

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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 4:28 PM : GOJO SATORU

"gojo satoru," you let out an exasperaged sigh at your old student’s lousy pick-up line, reminded of all those years back when you had the young boy in your japanese literature class. pale skin, exuberant blue eyes, and starkingly white locks tussled in the natural air. he'd usually have his legs cocked up on top of the desk, and you'd have to ask hundreds of times for him to remove them. he never did listen.

now, here he stands before you── fifteen years your junior and while his face has surely matured, you can still see that young boy inside him. it annoys you slightly. "i see you haven't changed much."

"how so?" he tilts his head, genuinely curious as he stands tall over your shorter stature. he leans more of his weight to his left side, staring into you as he holds his gaze on you. you were beautiful then as you're beautiful now, time surely taking a toll on you, but nonetheless. he finds you stunning.

you were such a kind teacher, and truthfully, he should've given you an easier time back then. however, he found the scrunch of your nose and the pout of your mouth adorable and loved to press your buttons. only when he noticed that your eyes would start to water from frustration would he ease up and let you go through the lesson. by the end of the class, however, he would throw some snarky remark and remind you that by the day after tomorrow, everything will fall right back into place. he'd be right at your ear again to nag you.

"you're still as stubborn as a mule," you cross your arms as you inhale a breath. reminiscing has only brought up past frustrations that you never managed to get off your chest. you don't like how his eyes twinkle, urging you to continue forth. "thinks the world goes how you want── still think that you can get whatever you want. still acting like a child."

"i wouldn’t say that..." he squints playfully, in that all too familiar tone that irks you.

"what would you call it then?" you challenge, cocking your head to the side.

"i just think── i don't think the world revolves around me," his voice calms, eyes still boring into yours, however. his eyes trail over your body, the corners of his lips curving upwards as his voice takes a tone of sultry. "i just know what i want, and i know that with just enough hard work that i can have it. didn't you use to call that ambition?"

you don't like the pace picking up within your chest. inhaling deeply, your jaw clenches as you take a step back. you keep your head up high. he was always smooth with his words── then and now. while he was always a nuisance in class, the essays he turned in always had you intrigued. he had a beautiful mind, but that's what you have always kept it at. and you're still trying to hold that one thing true. "within the right context── the right scenarios."

"well, i deem this the right one."

"sometimes, the universe means it when it says no," you press.

"and sometimes, the universe doesn't know what's right."

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#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #x reader #𝟒:𝟎𝟎 𝐏𝐌.

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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 2 days ago

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✨ New Patreon Upload! ✨

Hey everyone! I’ve just uploaded a new Jude fic on my Patreon, and you definitely don’t want to miss it!

Head over now to check it out and show some love! 🙌

📖 Link in bio! ✨ Let me know your thoughts after reading! 💬

Don't forget my fics now available for ONLY $3; don't miss your chance to catch up on all the exclusive content!

Silent Conversations

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — After living in Madrid for nearly a year, Jude's gotten the hang of spanish. So he never thought he’d have to learn a new language just to flirt with someone—until he meets you.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x Deaf!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 9.7k

Warnings! FLUFF!! Jude is kind of obsessed with you in the best way, lover boy, you're very adorable in this one, reader speaks but can't hear, reader can read lips,

Preview

********** Being deaf and a chatterbox is a contradiction that most people don’t know how to wrap their heads around.

But it’s who you are.

Since you can remember, you've always loved to talk—loved filling spaces with words, with thoughts, with laughter. Being deaf has never stopped you. If anything, it’s only made you more creative in how you communicate.

People underestimate how much talking you can do with your hands, how much personality you can pour into a single sign, a raised brow, a quick smirk. They think "talking" only means sound, that conversations without voices are somehow lesser, as if the absence of noise makes words any less real. You’ve spent your whole life proving them wrong.

And tonight is no different.

Your little brother practically vibrates with excitement next to you, hands flying as he signs about how insane the game was. He’s been a Real Madrid fan for as long as he’s been able to walk, and your parents had gone all out for his birthday—jerseys, meet&greet tickets, the whole experience.

So far, the night has been going well.

Your family has been cheering and chanting for Real Madrid alongside the thousands of other fans packed into the stadium, their voices blending into the electric hum of excitement that fills the air. The game has been nothing short of exhilarating, each pass, each near goal sending waves of emotion through the crowd.

Your hands ache from the number of times you’ve signed to your brother, asking for updates on what’s happening when the movements on the field become too chaotic to follow. He’s been patient, grinning as he translates key moments for you, his enthusiasm infectious.

When the final whistle blows, confirming Real Madrid’s victory, the stadium erupts into cheers. Your family is ecstatic, jumping to their feet and embracing one another in celebration. You smile, soaking in the energy, but exhaustion is already creeping in. The weight of tomorrow morning sits heavily on your shoulders.

You love nights like this—love the way your father’s face lights up after a good match, love the way your younger cousins beam with pride, shouting the players’ names like they know them personally—but you can’t afford to linger. Not when your boss expects you bright-eyed and fully alert at the crack of dawn.

You sigh, glancing at the time. If you leave now, you’ll get home at a decent hour, and maybe you'll get six hours in tonight. I should go, you sign to your brother.

He frowns. So soon?

"I have work in the morning."

He relays this to the rest of your family, and they groan in unison. Your mother reaches out, squeezing your arm in understanding. "Text us when you get home," you read on her lips.

You nod, exchanging quick hugs before making your way toward the exit.

The corridors are still crowded with lingering fans, some of them stopping to take pictures or rewatch highlights on their phones. You weave through them, emerging into the crisp night air just outside the stadium, and pull out your phone to call for an Uber.

Five minutes.

Not too bad.

You exhale, shoving your free hand into the pocket of your jacket as you make your way toward the designated pick-up area near the parking lot. Your feet ache slightly from standing for so long, and the cool breeze is a welcome relief after being surrounded by so much body heat. You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, debating whether to pass the time by answering a few messages or just watching the people around you.

That’s when you feel it.

A presence.

It’s subtle at first—a shift in the atmosphere, a slight prickling at the back of your neck. Then, footsteps. Slow. Unsteady.

You look up just in time to see him stumbling toward you.

The acrid scent of alcohol hits you first. It’s overpowering, the kind of stench that clings to a person’s skin and clothes, the kind that makes your stomach churn. He’s disheveled, his jacket slipping off one shoulder, his eyes unfocused. But there’s something sharp in the way he grins at you, something that immediately puts you on edge.

"Hey," he slurs.

Your grip tightens around your phone. You don't respond. Instead, you take a step back, angling your body away from him. But before you can put more distance between you, his hand shoots out, gripping your wrist with surprising strength.

"I'm talking to you, you little bitch!"

Panic spikes through you like ice water.

Your breath hitches, your heart hammering as you instinctively jerk back, trying to free yourself from his grasp. Your hands move on their own, the motions quick, desperate. Leave me alone.

The man’s face scrunches in confusion. "What? What are you doin' with your hands?"

You swallow hard, pulse racing. You try again, this time forcing yourself to speak, hoping the sounds come out right. "I can't hear you. I'm deaf."

His expression twists into something cruel. "Deaf?" He laughs, loud and mean. "You serious?" His grip tightens. "C'mon, don’t be like that. Just talk to me.I can show you a good time."

Your throat constricts. You shake your head quickly, signing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, over and over, even though you know there’s nothing to apologize for. It’s just instinct. A plea for him to stop, to let go.

But he doesn’t. If anything, your silence only makes him angrier.

"Stop doin' that shit!" he snaps. "Just say something!"

Before you can react, before the panic fully settles into terror, a shadow moves behind him. Fast. Deliberate. A hand clamps down on his shoulder, yanking him backward with enough force that he nearly loses his balance.

"That’s enough, mate." The voice is low, firm. Unmistakably authoritative.

The drunk stumbles, blinking in confusion as he turns to face whoever pulled him away. And that’s when you see him.

Jude Bellingham.

He’s taller than you expected, broader too, his frame imposing even in casual clothes. His coils are damp, like he just stepped out of the showers, and there’s an undeniable exhaustion in his features—deep shadows under his eyes, a certain heaviness to the way he holds himself.

But none of that matters right now. Right now, his entire focus is on the man in front of him, his jaw tight with barely contained irritation.

The drunk sneers. "Who the fuck—"

"Walk away," Jude says flatly.

The man wobbles slightly, his mind struggling to catch up as he starts recognizes Jude. His eyes widen. "I was just—"

"I don’t care." Jude’s voice is sharper now, cutting through the drunken haze like a blade. "She’s not interested. Walk away."

There’s a moment of hesitation. A beat where the drunk seems to consider whether or not this is a fight worth picking. He glances between you and Jude, his lip curling in annoyance, before finally, begrudgingly, releasing a scoff.

"Whatever," he mutters, stumbling back. "Wasn’t even worth it."

You don’t breathe until he’s gone.

The moment he disappears into the crowd, your entire body sags, tension draining so quickly that your knees feel weak. You swallow, pressing a hand to your chest in an attempt to steady yourself.

Jude turns to you then, his brows knitting together in concern. "You alright?"

You nod automatically, even though you’re not entirely sure it’s true. Your hands tremble slightly as you sign, Thank you.

Jude watches your hands carefully, and your gaze shifts to his lips expecting him to say something next—to offer words you wouldn't be able to hear. Instead, he hesitates, then lifts his hands.

You… okay? The sign is clumsy, the movements stiff, but the effort makes your heart stop.

He had recognized what you were signing before. He had understood. you think.

You nodded, your throat tight with gratitude. He relaxed a little at your response, but still glanced around, protective. "You waiting on someone?" His lips move slower this time, giving you a chance to read them.

You nod again, holding up your phone. "Uber." The words come out in a bit of a slur but he understands them.

Jude frowns, looking at your screen. "Two minutes?"

He must have seen the time displayed on your phone because there’s no way he could’ve understood the tone of your nod. "Yeah."

The way he scowls in response makes you think that’s not an acceptable answer. His eyes shift, scanning the parking lot, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. "Look, you want to wait inside? The security team can keep an eye on you till your Uber arrives."

His concern is sweet, and you find yourself nodding before you can think. "Okay. Thank you."

You let him lead you back to the main building, where there’s a security team waiting by the entrance. He explains your situation, and they offer you a smile. They won't let you stay inside the stadium since the game has already ended, but they’re willing to stand outside with you until your car arrives.

You nod in gratitude and wave a goodbye as Jude makes to leave. You expect him to keep going, to be on his way, but instead, he hesitates. For a second, he just looks at you, as if deciding something, but he shakes his head, offering a quick smile as he slips away into the night.

The security team stays with you the whole time. They make sure you’re safe and wave down your Uber when it arrives. You thank them and climb into your car, making your way home.

That’s it, you think. That’s where the story ends.

But it’s only the beginning.

**********

-Bianca🌻

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude x you

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deadfrog-and-friends · 2 days ago

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a work in progress

It feels. That's all it can do right now. Feel. Sensations it can't interpret, can't understand. All over its new form, feeling, stimuli. Something. Holding it. Something rubbing it. Something cutting into it—ahhh…it doesn't hurt, not exactly. It's just, what if the knife slips? Cuts deep? Too deep? It cuts, it cuts, shallow cuts, deep cuts… it's frightening. So many cuts before the blade is pulled away. It's. Fine. It's safe. A soft sensation, a digit, a finger, rubs over its entire form. Smooth. Gentle. Wonderful. Suddenly it's set down, and all there is to feel is the surface beneath it.

It lays in Stillness, there, the entity, for it is not yet a doll. It is just a block of wood, well, four or five blocks of wood, that have yet to become arms and legs and a head and ball joints. The surface vibrates as things move around it. People, Animals, various Things. Voices rendered into vibrations it can only feel. A door slamming in its frame, more vibrations. It starts to notice cold and hot as well. A window left open feels colder. A cat dozing nearby feels warmer. The warmth of the hand that finally picks it up again, is warmer still, and it brings it to the stove to work on it in the firelight, which is warmest yet. An ear is carved, and it can hear.

Voices. Voices it hears first, and the crackling of the fire. The one holding it has the sweetest. Another one, nearby, has its own music. The voice of the fire is anxious, a bit, its proximity seems to be causing a thumping, thumping, in that one's chest. Low to the ground, one last plaintive voice. The cat. The one holdng it carves a second ear.

"Won't you start on that commission. Please, dear." That was the further voice.

"I will, tomorrow," says the one holding it. "I just want to finish carving poor dolly's head."

"Can't it wait?"

"It's been waiting for a month already." The one holding it brushes sawdust out of its ear and it can hear more clearly. "It's just been sitting on my desk, sometimes I even forget it's there I'm so busy. I'm shocked the cat hasn't batted away and lost half the pieces."

"I just don't know what use a doll of that size can be," says the first voice. "And with rent coming up tomorrow…hmm?" She's interrupted by a clanking noise. "Yes Duckie?"

"Mistress, supper is served," says a new, eerily flat voice.

"Well, never mind. Put that down, come eat."

"I'll be right there," says the one holding it, as the other one leaves. She adds a tiny detail to the left ear, and then the right. Satisfied, she carries that one back to the desk—one, two, three, four gentle footsteps—saying "Its use? Its purpose? Only to be loved, only to be loved, and to love me in return." A finger runs along that one's new head, over its new ears, and she hums, gentle and satisfied.

The entity that is not yet a doll finds it can mark the days now. Voices say things like "Good morning," "time for dinner," "it's late, come to bed." Gathers that the one who holds it is a witch named Felicity, beloved Felicity. The other is her partner Leticia. They run a shop together, New and Used Dolls, Drones, and Puppets—Felicity carves them new out of wood; Leticia scouts out used ones to refurbish and sell. Two dolls live with them, a wood doll of Felicity's, Fifi, who scrapes a broom across the floor a few times a day, and Duckie, a refurbed bot, who calls them for dinner. Finally, there is the cat, with the plaintive voice, and the sweet, gentle purr. The entity can feel it jump on the desk and settle next to it and start purring. This means they are friends.

Days pass and sometimes it feels its witch's hand on its form, sometimes she picks it up, fiddles with it, attaches a limb. One afternoon when the shop is dead she steals a whole hour and manages to affix its head onto its neck. She swivels it back and forth and all the way around, pleased with the smooth movement. Then Leticia comes in. Her voice almost sounds hurt. "Weren't you going to help me with that refurb? I thought—"

"Ohh…" Felicity sets her project back down, almost ungently. "Sorry, I thought… Sorry." She leaps up. "Yeah we can do that now."

The entity that is not yet a doll feels so close. Its head is attached. Its limbs are attached. From the conversation it has heard in the shop, it believes it still lacks things called eyes, a mouth, clothing, hair. If it is to be a marionette, it will need strings. Felicity will get to it, someday. It knows she will. It can't wait for the next moment she has time to pick it up, run her hand along its back. It thinks about that every few moments.

Seasons change. Hair is installed, in phases. A painful process where holes are drilled into the top of its head. "I don't remember what my original vision was, anymore," Felicity mutters. Her voice has changed, somehow. The texture of her fingers. A new person lives in the house with them. A child. The child's voice is beautiful.

"What's that, Mommy?" the entity, still not a doll, can hear it ask.

"Oh, it's a work in progress," says beloved Felicity. "Your mama gave me that beautiful wood, just enough for a small doll."

"A little dolly like that would be just the right size for, you know, a little girl."

"Are you trying to hint something, darling?" the witch says, laughing. "Maybe I teach you to make your own, hmm?"

The entity hears the child shriek with joy as the witch scoops it up and carries it away. It feels an ache, a knot in its chest.

Months pass. Sometimes the child picks it up, unfinished as it is, and carries it around the room. Puts it on the cat and laughs as the cat gets up and it falls to the ground. Pours it tea—which smells divine. (It received a nose at some point.) Reads to it from its picture books. Helpfully describes the pictures to it since it doesn't have eyes. Felicity walks in on this one day. "No!" she cries, snatching the not doll away. "No, no, no, Alice, you mustn't touch that… it's Mommy's. It's mine." She presses it to her bosom, her hands shaking. That one feels so warm, shivery almost. It feels a sob in Felicity's chest.

"Sorry, Mommy," Alice says, ashamed. "I thought…"

"You have your own dolls, don't you? Beautiful dolls, so many beautiful dolls. This is all Mommy has. Don't you understand? I'm sorry for getting upset. It's just, this is Mommy's special doll."

"B-b-but…" Alice starts to wail. Mommy puts the doll down, hastily, on the desk, and goes to comfort her.

"Look, darling," Mommy says.

"You haven't touched it in months," the child wails, "so I thought I could play with it. It's probably lonely. Don't you think it's lonely?"

The Doll hardly notices as Alice lashes out at Felicity and Felicity weeps. It hardly cares that it's alone on the desk again, still without eyes, a mouth, a single stitch of clothing, the ability to move. For what is a doll? For some it is an entity that will carry out orders, cook or clean, fight for one's cause. But for this one, it is to be loved, to be loved, and to love in return. It is a Doll.

For the next several years, Felicity only manages to paint a single eye (muttering "doesn't look quite right, does it") but that is enough for the Doll to finally see the faces of its family, Alice, the distant Leticia, Ducky, and Fifi. And the wonderful Felicity so beautiful but oh! so frail, so delicate compared to the others. She hardly works with any wood anymore. Something to do with her health. She spends more and more time upstairs, where the Doll has never been. Alice is learning the trade. She prefers making dolls with cloth. She prefers working with the refurbs. She sews that one some clothes in her spare time, along with an even smaller doll to keep it company. The cat, an old lady by now, steals it, though. Then one day, Felicity is carried downstairs and out the door. The Doll never sees her or hears her voice again. Months later, Leticia comes to clean off the desk and throw things away. She comes across the Doll, and touching it for the first time begins to weep.

End.

(inspired by @absentwriterdoll's Work-In-Progress and glitch's Resin)

#dollposting #empty spaces

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docochocart · 3 days ago

Text

DOCORONPA R

CHAPTER SIX

[ daily ]

Drummer had to be dragged out of the courtroom following the unexplained dismissal of the fifth trial. She kicked and screamed the whole way back to camp.

Once again, a firm slap from PT would stun her enough for her only remaining cabin-mate to get through:

"Go the fuck to sleep. You're acting bananas bro. For real."

Drummer wanted to return the slap so badly for a moment, PT's dismissal of her grief boiling in her racing mind. Instead she decided to lay back and hold her tongue. Even she knew PT was right, she was acting bananas.

She lay facing the wall completely still as Ice Skater entered the cabin and settled into her bunk. This wasn't the time for confrontation.

Drummer tried her best to settle down after the sharp intervention from PT. While her body lay still, her mind raced on manically.

Things would be different tomorrow.

...

Drummer's eyes cracked open, reacting to the sound of PT's morning stretches. Surprisingly, she'd managed to get a decent amount of sleep that night.

It took Drummer sitting up for PT to notice she'd awoken the girl, profusely apologizing for doing so.

By the time PT had finished stammering out her desperate apology, Drummer had fully gained consciousness. She ignored her friend's pleas, simply asking:

"Where is Ice Skater?"

...

Personal Trainer anxiously followed in the wake of Drummer's determined march to the Craft Hall. She could barely get out her "no wait-" before Drummer had violently kicked in the entry door.

Drummer stood wide legged in the doorway, blocking PT out on the other side. The towering girl anxiously waited behind her, not wanting to poke the bear.

As she'd hoped, everybody else had already gathered for breakfast. It seemed like nobody wanted to risk being alone after last week's events.

Drummer spoke diligently and sharply, cutting to the point without hesitation:

"Unless we all want to die here we have to work as a team. If anybody here doesn't understand that, they don't deserve our community."

Rebel crooked an eyebrow at her pointed remark, but was kept at bay by a gesture from Ice Skater. Given the silence, Drummer continued:

"Working as a team means complete and total honesty. No more secrets without consequences."

Ice Skater finally chimed in, shocking even Rebel with her response:

"I agree."

Drummer didn't waste a second pouncing on this opportunity, egging her on:

"Then tell us what you know."

Without a beat, Ice Skater did just that:

"There's been a traitor in our midst."

This didn't come as much of a shock to anybody but Sailor, who'd seemed to not understand any of the previous night's events.

Ice Skater continued on, explaining that her and Rebel had begun colluding information relatively early into the game.

Their main findings were the many entrances to the system of tunnels scattered throughout the camp, each of which they had marked for further investigation.

Rebel explained that the first time he'd found one open was following the first trial. Upon entering, he'd followed it through to an exit on the other side of camp. This was his first suspicion of foul play amongst the campers.

The second time he'd found one open was following the second trial. He once again took the opportunity to potentially escape outside of camp, this time succeeding and winding up on the farm.

Ice Skater retook the floor, divulging her theory that the traitor had left these tunnels open on purpose. She hypothesized that it would be an easy way to guide the group and drive suspicion onto Rebel.

Rebel angrily dismissed that idea, claiming that it was probably just a bug in the system.

Ignoring his retort, Ice Skater moved on to their second major finding:

"Everybody here has an implant just behind their ear."

Once again, this was sort of old news at this point. The group still waited on baited breath for some clarity on this horrific notion.

Ice Skater explained that one morning while Marine Biologist was styling her hair, she asked how she'd gotten her scar. Ice Skater had swallowed the shock in that moment and lied that she had taken a nasty fall on the ice.

Of course, she was lying. She'd never had a scar there and immediately sensed something was very wrong.

Knowing better than to share this fear with Marine Biologist, she took the concerning scar to Rebel. They would quickly discover the same scar behind his ear, leading them to begin rattling off ideas.

After the events on the farm, it was nearly cemented in their minds that they had been chipped with something. It would explain the strange effects the frequencies played over the loudspeakers had on them.

According to Ice Skater, Marine Biologist had discovered her scar on her own following the fourth trial. Drummer wasn't quick to buy this explanation, but let her continue:

"Our theory is that the traitor is not in the remaining body of campers. We believe they reside below in the tunnels."

She continued, positing that their "implants" were used to affect their mental states. She coldly gestured to a still shaken Drummer as an example.

She finished her dissertation with the statement that "their goal is to keep us divided." Referring to the fifth trials clear attempt at framing the least popular among them as an example.

After making her very compelling evaluation on the inner workings of this game, it was Drummers turn to formulate a plan:

"We're going to burn this camp to the fucking ground."

For a moment everyone seemed to assume this to be hyperbole, pausing to react. Once understanding how serious she was, the least determined amongst them began their predictable protest.

Sailor and Welder both harshly rejected the idea, questioning where they would sleep and eat. Drummer sharply spoke over their whining:

"It sounds like you want to die here. Is your comfort more important than your life?"

Before the two buffoons could get another word in, Ice Skater once again shocked the room with her interjection:

"She's right."

Sailor and Welder shuddered at this response, understanding that the two biggest powers in the room were in full agreement. Resistance was likely futile.

Even with the sudden lack of push back from the gruesome twosome, Drummer justified the idea to the room:

"We're here for a reason. They need us here. They've built an entire system around keeping us alive, controlled and sustained here. We can't take any part in it. Not until we have some answers."

Sailor let out a deep sigh before angrily grunting:

"Fine, fine. We'll burn down the fucking camp."

...

Drummer's merciless leadership was in full swing. She had full control over this operation, dictating everybody's jobs and how they were to be done. The list went as followed:

Welder would spend their time gathering any dead leaves or pine needles they could find, raking them into large piles.

Sailor and Personal Trainer would then carry those piles back to the camp in loads, each competing for who could lift more.

Rebel and Ice Skater would then strategically spread the dead brush throughout the camp to guide the flame. Without the aid of gasoline this was their best shot for maximum destruction.

Drummer guided the expedition with a fiery passion.

MonoMaton half-heartedly pleaded with the class to not go through with this while they worked, imploring them to "find a more productive use of their time."

This of course did nothing to stop the campers from following through with their plans, however the sheep persisted:

"No food, no water, no bed to lay your little heads on. Is that what you really want?"

Only Sailor seemed swayed by these deceptions, but he was kept sharp by the barking commands coming from Drummer.

After a few hours of work, the scene was set for their class act of rebellion. There couldn't be a game with nowhere to film it, after all.

Everybody gathered in the center of base camp, where the thickly stacked trails of dead flora met for their approaching ignition.

MonoMaton stood a few meters away, hopelessly bartering for the campers to just stop:

"Is this what you reallllllly want?"

The cast continued ignoring the plush, all gathering around to finally start the flame. When it was completely certain that the camp would go up in flames, MonoMaton finally gave in:

"Fine! Guess we'll do this the hard way."

A new tone blared through the camp, immediately rendering the cast to their knees.

The pain was so great and the tone so loud that Drummer couldn't even make out the screams of her peers. All she could do was suffer.

The following lack of consciousness would come as a relief.

To Be Continued...

#danganronpa #dangan ronpa #oc #dangansona #fangan ronpa #fanganronpa #docoronpa #docoronpa r #my art

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