#precise highlighting brush

[fanficgirl429]

Jealous Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Prompt: Bucky gets jealous when Torres flirts with Y/N

--

The hum of fluorescent lights cast a pale glow over the East Side briefing room of the Helicarrier hangar. Equipment cases lined the walls, gear sorted and labeled with precision, and the scent of metal, oil, and sterilized fabric filled the air. Sam stood at the table in the center, hands braced on either side of a glowing tactical map.

Y/N leaned against the edge, tying her hair back into a messy braid, a black combat vest snug over her base layer. Her movements were quick but unhurried—second nature. Bucky watched her from across the room as he adjusted the shoulder harness of his stealth suit. His fingers moved slowly, distracted. He'd already checked his gear twice.

She caught him looking and gave him a soft, secret smile. The kind of smile that said I'm okay.  The corner of his mouth lifted in return, subtle but real.

“You two gonna kiss or kill something?” Sam asked, not even looking up from the map.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “You know which one I’d prefer.”

Y/N rolled her eyes with a half-laugh, walking over to Sam’s side as Joaquín Torres pulled up a holographic overlay from the nearby terminal.

“Guard rotations are clockwork,” Torres said, pointing. “Three-man teams sweep the corridors every twenty minutes. Entry point’s here, west stairwell. You’ll have a five-minute window to get past the security grid.”

“And once we’re inside?” Y/N asked, leaning in, her fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the table. Bucky’s gaze followed the motion.

“Split and sweep,” Sam said, already sliding into briefing mode. “Y/N and I take the server room. Bucky clears the vault corridor. We regroup at extraction in twenty.”

“Sounds clean,” Torres said. Then his eyes flicked to Y/N. “Wish I was going with you guys. Could use someone with your instincts on my team.”

Y/N raised a brow. “You calling me predictable or reckless?”

“Neither,” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips. “Just saying, if I had someone like you watching my six, I might not get shot at so much.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed.

Y/N laughed it off, casually stepping closer to Bucky without seeming to realize she’d done it. But he noticed. He always noticed. The subtle way her body leaned toward him when someone else was around. The way her hand rested on his forearm briefly, grounding both of them.

Torres was still grinning, oblivious. “You ever think about switching teams, Y/N, let me know. I could use a partner who looks that good and knows how to break a guy’s arm in two seconds.”

Bucky’s voice cut through the air. “She’s not switching anything.”

The room stilled for a second too long. Sam looked up, eyebrows raised. Torres blinked and took half a step back, holding his hands up in defense. 

Y/N let out a slow breath and gave Bucky a look—half amused, half warning.

“Just saying, man. No offense,” Torres said. 

Bucky didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and walked toward the lockers, snapping his gloves tighter than necessary.

Y/N followed.

When they were out of earshot, she leaned against the locker beside him, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?” she said softly.

Bucky looked down, then back at her. “Yeah. I know. Doesn’t mean it’s easy watching someone else talk to you like that.”

Y/N tilted her head. “You think I care what Torres thinks? I let you zip my vest this morning.”

His eyes flicked to her chest, then to her face, his voice lower now. “Yeah. That was the highlight of my day.”

A smile played on her lips. “I can give you another highlight, but we’ve got a mission in ten.”

“Damn timing,” Bucky murmured.

She stepped closer, hand brushing lightly against his side—right where his arm met flesh. “I’ll be careful.”

“I know.”

“I mean it,” she whispered. “I don’t want you losing your mind if someone so much as looks at me funny again.”

“Too late for that,” he muttered, then softened. “But I’ll keep it together. Just… stay close. And come back to me.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, unseen from the others. “Always.”

Sam called from across the room, “Time to move out, kids. Jet’s hot and ready. Let’s go look cool and kick ass.”

Y/N turned with a wink. “Let’s go make some noise.”

Bucky watched her walk away—confident, calm, dangerous as hell. And his.

He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and followed.

No one would ever get close enough to take her from him.

Not on his watch.

--

The mission had ended hours ago.

Madripoor had been chaotic—twisting alleys, cold steel corridors, fire flashing off concrete and bad choices. But they’d made it out. Banged up, bruised, a little breathless, but alive.

The quinjet hummed softly as it cut through clouds somewhere over the Atlantic. Sam had passed out three seats back, his arm thrown over his face, muttering occasionally in his sleep. Bucky sat near the front, freshly bandaged, bruised, quiet.

Y/N sat curled up across from him wearing one of his hoodies and her tactical pants, legs tucked beneath her. She’d changed out of her suit, hair loose now, damp from a quick shower at the airbase. Her eyes had been on Bucky since takeoff—not in worry, but something else. Something quieter. Deeper.

He looked tired.

Not physically—though the gash on his shoulder was proof enough the mission hadn’t gone easy—but emotionally tired. Like he’d been holding onto something all day that still hadn’t been said.

She crossed the aisle and slid into the seat beside him, saying nothing at first. Just letting the silence speak.

He glanced at her, then looked away. “You should sleep.”

“You should talk to me.”

A beat passed.

He exhaled. “You could’ve been killed today.”

“You say that like it’s not part of the job.”

His voice dropped. “It’s different when it’s you.”

Y/N turned in the seat, facing him fully. Her hand reached over, fingers brushing his knuckles—just barely. But he felt it like a jolt.

“You saved me. Again.”

“I shouldn’t have had to.” His jaw flexed. “I should’ve cleared the corner faster. Should’ve—should’ve gotten between you and that guy.”

“Bucky.”

“I saw the way he raised the gun. He wasn’t aiming at me. He wanted you. And all I could think was—”

He stopped himself. Chest rising, falling. The words stuck somewhere between his lungs and his heart.

“All I could think was, what if this is the last time I see you?” he finished, softer now. “What if I lose you before I ever get to tell you…”

Her hand moved to his jaw, thumb tracing the stubble just below his cheekbone.

“Tell me what?” she asked.

He met her eyes, blue and stormy and full of something that cracked her open inside.

“That I love you,” he said. No hesitation now. No fear. Just the truth. 

Y/N’s breath hitched. She was already smiling, already blinking away tears she hadn’t realized were there. “Took you long enough.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Guess I’m still learning how to say things before I almost lose them.”

She cupped his face, pulling him in gently, and kissed him—slow and deep. When they parted, her forehead rested against his.

“I love you too,” she whispered. “Even when you’re brooding and jealous and act like you invented angst.”

His lips curved against hers. “I did invent angst, actually. 1943. Patent pending.”

She laughed, and he held her close, letting the sound soak into his skin.

They stayed curled together for the rest of the flight, her head on his shoulder, his fingers tangled in hers. No words needed.

Outside, the storm had passed.

But inside the quinjet, something far more powerful had settled.

Peace. And love.

[misswynters]

Ekko eating you out

featuring. ekko x fem! reader

warnings. smut (18+), fingering, the reader getting eaten out, ekko being a munch (lol is that the right term?), first time this type of smut :/

Ekko knelt at the edge of the bed, his warm palms gliding along the soft skin of your thighs, gripping them just hard enough to leave a memory of his touch. The dim light in the room cast shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the glint of his piercing eyes as they stayed fixed on you.

“You look beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His thumbs rubbed slow, circular patterns against your clit, his grip tightening every time your hips squirmed in anticipation.

Your breathing hitched as he leaned forward, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch sent shivers cascading down your spine, and a soft whimper escaped your lips.

“Patience, babe,” he teased, his breath hot against you. “Let me take my time with you.” His mouth trailed higher, each kiss more deliberate than the last, until his lips hovered just above your folds. Your body ached for him, the desire building with every second of his teasing.

When he finally pressed his mouth against them, the sensation felt amazing. A gasp tore from your lips as his tongue moved expertly, his pace unhurried yet devastatingly precise. He licked a slow, deliberate stripes, his tongue flattening against you before flicking upwards, and the soft wet, sounds filled the room.

“Fuck…” you slightly moaned, your hands clutching the sheets as your hips bucked involuntarily.

He chuckled against you, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. “Stay still for me,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. His hands slid below your thighs linked his fingers together. He pressed his hands into your stomach, firmly holding against the mattress. “I’ve got you.”

His fingers joined afterwhile, one sliding inside you with ease, curling just right to find that perfect spot. The squelching noise that followed was hot, your arousal coating his fingers as he moved them in rhythm with his tongue.

“God, you’re so wet,” he muttered, his tone laced with admiration and desire. “You sound delicious, babe.”

Your head tipped back, a series of breathless moans escaping you as his movements became more insistent. The pace of his fingers, the kisses his mouth left, and the firm grip on your thighs had you trembling beneath him.

“Ekko, I—”

He looked up at you, his chin glistening, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “You’re not goin’ anywhere until you are begging for me,” he said, his voice full of playful dominance.

Your legs tried to close instinctively at the overwhelming sensation, but his grip tightened, keeping you wide open for him. He pinned your thighs down with a possessive strength, his fingers digging into your thighs just enough to leave marks.

“Uh-uh,” he chided, his voice a mix of amusement and command. “Please stay still.” The wet slurping noises grew louder as he added another finger, the sensation of being stretched and filled making your body arch against his hold. His tongue moved in tandem, swirling and flicking in a way that had you crying out his name.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging at his locks as the pleasure became almost too much to bear. “Ekko, please, I’m—” You began to push his head deeper into you trying to make yourself come faster.

“Not yet,” he cut you off, his voice dripping with authority. He pressed his fingers deeper inside of you, curling them perfectly as his tongue focused on your clit. "You'll get your chance to come."

Your thighs trembled under his strong grip, the tightness in your core building to an almost unbearable peak. Each movement of his tongue and fingers sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, the wet sounds echoing in the room showing just how completely he had unraveled you.

"Please"" you whimpered, your voice trembling as you teetered on the edge. "I can't-"

"Just a little more," he urged, his pace quickening. You could now hear him slurping all of your juices as you tried to hold it in. His grip on your thighs tightened even further, his nails digging into your thighs as he held you exactly where he wanted you. "I want you come all over my face."

His words were your undoing. With one last stroke of his tongue, the built up tension snapped, and you came undone with a cry of his name. Your body convulsed beneath him, your thighs trembling as he rode out your orgasm, his mouth and fingers relentless in their movements.

The slick, wet noises continued as he worked you through your high, his tongue savoring every last drop of your release. When you finally collapsed back onto the bed, trembling and spent, he pulled away, his lips and chin glistening as he smirked up at you.

"Damn," he said, his voice laced with pride and satisfaction. "You're even louder than I thought you'd be."

You shot him a weak glare, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. "This was too much," you muttered, though the fondness in your tone was undeniable.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before finally releasing your legs. "You did great," he replied, his eyes warm as he crawled up to join you on the bed.

As he pulled you into his arms, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back, you couldn't help but smile, your heart full and your body still buzzing from the hot feeling of his touch.

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @annybah @niredsw @stqrlxght @kriss-w @marilovz @blkmystery @multiverse-fandoms-2001 @turquoizxe @mishellii @kor-0suu @feelya @theamazingmilli @multim00n @m00nd0v3 @sodavrr @maialublmere @radtragedyarcade @spiderhook @night-fall-moon @ekkosh @hoonobono @bandletale @thesecondhandwoman @alientee @duchessmoooon @lilbunny1sworld @lil-kpopstan @mbekgsv @lulumallow @ametheslime @sunshiines-stuff @lolana101 @jadeash434 @hobieeeloverrr @misonesaturou @serene6728 @hellokittyfeenie @repairheartzz

banner. @anitalenia

[comicaurora]

No question I just wanted to say the way you drew the water on the new page is BREATHTAKING

Actually, you know what, I do indeed have a question. How on earth did you make it look so good??

I'm really glad it worked! I've never had to paint the underside of water before, and it was an interesting challenge, since so much of wave texturing is communicated through seaspray, a particle effect that can't be used from under the water. Here's the gist:

Started with solid blue, of course. Since the bottom panel was going to be a plunge into deep water, threw in an easy dark gradient.

To texture the underside of the water, I started with light and shadow. Light gathers on the crests of waves, so I brushed out an approximation of where it seemed like it made sense for the light to be catching. Because of the radial splash in panel 2, I wanted the illusion of the water bending inwards towards the camera, so I kept the light to the edges of the splash and filled the center with shadow.

Darkened more across the board to increase the intensity. I added a second darkening layer, this time a deep blue instead of purple, to create the effect of multiple colors above the surface being filtered through the bluish water. I also wanted to imply the shadows of the fragments of the shipwreck falling towards the water, hence the smaller, sharper dark areas.

Glow! A thinner, finer brush to capture the specular highlights on the crests of the waves, and of course some light rays in the third panel to reinforce the feeling of depth. This layer used a gold color, which is the only part of the water texturing that wasn't in the blue-purple range.

Boat bits - I started working out the atmospheric perspective effect with these, to create the illusion that the ones further from the camera were less opaque because the water was obscuring them. I also added a layer of simple bubble effects (a dot particle brush screened over the page)

For the final layer, figures, more bubbles, and more precise hand-drawn bubbles to communicate the movement the specific way I wanted to. Rapidly-moving bubbles stretch and distort rather than remaining perfectly spherical, and they also helped sell the scale, implying that the objects with larger bubbles were closer to the camera and thus farther from the surface.

And that's the gist of it! I'm glad it worked because it was a real seat-of-the-pants endeavor over here

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜

in which you talk trash but she isn't afraid to talk back

warning : sexual content included - minors dni

By the time the buzzer rang to open the Aces vs. Wings game, the entire league had been waiting for this moment.

The reigning MVP versus the new golden girl.

You stood at half court, bouncing on your heels with your signature grin tugging at your mouth. Your braid was pulled tight. Your sneakers already squeaked with heat. The ball hadn’t even tipped, and you were locked in, eyes narrowing across the line at Paige Bueckers.

“Ready to see what the WNBA really feels like, rookie?” you called, voice casual, but loud enough that the nearest camera mic picked it up.

Paige just rolled her eyes. “You done rehearsing that line in the mirror?”

Your smirk widened. “Oh, I’ve got a whole setlist ready for you.”

Paige didn’t flinch. She didn’t need to. Her hands settled on her hips, her expression unreadable beneath the calm ice of competition she wore so well. But you knew the look. That stubborn Bueckers fire was already catching.

First possession, you made a show of it.

Between-the-legs dribble, behind the back, hesitation at the arc. Paige didn’t bite. But the second she leaned the wrong way—barely, just a twitch—you stepped back and drained a three right over her outstretched fingers.

“Welcome to the league,” you called, backpedaling. “First lesson’s free.”

The crowd erupted. Camera flashes. Someone on the Dallas bench whistled. You winked.

It was electric.

Paige came back harder, of course. Her first possession ended in a sharp cut to the elbow and a smooth jumper, her footwork so precise it looked choreographed. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. She just glanced your way as she jogged down court like, your turn.

The game unfolded like a symphony of pettiness and skill. You pushed her. She shoved back. You jab-stepped and faked. She clamped down on your drives. It was basketball in its purest, grittiest form—trash talk over rhythm, mind games wrapped around talent.

You stole a pass from her in the second quarter and went coast to coast, finishing with a spin move layup that sent the Aces’ bench to their feet.

“Gotta protect your lunch, Bueckers,” you said on your way back down. “You’re in the big leagues now.”

She didn’t break stride. “Pretty bold for someone who needs the whole highlight reel just to score.”

“Ouch,” you said. “You rehearse that one too?”

Mid-third quarter, she clipped you on a drive—light, but enough that you stumbled. The whistle didn’t come. You both kept going. Next possession, you bumped her hard on a screen.

“That for the foul or the ego?” she muttered under her breath, eyes locked on you.

“Bit of both,” you said, grinning. “But mostly the ego.”

There was something in the way you danced around each other—tension, sure. But not the hateful kind. The kind that buzzed with familiarity, with too much awareness. The way she stole glances at you when she thought you weren’t looking. The way you always knew exactly where she was on the court without trying.

You were in her head. She was getting in yours too.

By the fourth quarter, it was still tight. 81-80. Your shoulders were damp with sweat, but your eyes were clear. Laser-focused.

A timeout was called with thirty seconds left. You and Paige walked to your benches, but not before you brushed shoulders at mid-court.

“You get extra points for rookie takedowns?” Paige asked, low.

“No,” you said, mouth curling. “But I do count them.”

She huffed a laugh and didn’t look away.

You finished with 24 points, 7 assists, 3 steals. Paige had 18 and 6.

You won the game.

But afterward, when you walked past her in the tunnel and caught her already watching you—arms crossed, sweat still clinging to her hairline—you didn’t throw another jab.

You just slowed.

She raised a brow. “What, no more trash talk?”

You shrugged, eyes dropping to her lips for half a second too long. “I save some for the rematch.”

Paige tilted her head, stepping closer. “I’ll be ready.”

You leaned in, voice a low hum. “Hope so. Would hate to keep schooling you like this.”

And just for a heartbeat—one quiet, pulsing moment—neither of you said anything else.

But everything shifted.

Paige sat between DiJonai and Arike, a towel draped around her neck and a tightly wound rubber band holding back her hair. She had showered, sure, but the flush on her cheeks hadn’t faded—not from the cardio. Not from you.

The press room was hot. Cameras clicked. Reporters raised their hands. Paige tried to focus.

“Tough game out there tonight, Paige. How would you describe going up against the reigning MVP?”

Paige’s lips twitched.

“She’s… a lot,” Paige said, her tone dancing that tightrope between admiration and irritation. “Talks a mile a minute. Doesn’t shut up.” She paused, letting the laughter build. “But she backs it up. You can’t really be mad when someone’s cooking and making it look that easy.”

Nai grinned beside her. “She called you rookie at least six times on the court.”

“Seven,” Paige corrected under her breath.

“Eight,” Arike added, scrolling on her phone. “Twitter’s keeping count.”

Laughter in the room.

Another reporter chimed in, smirking. “Any chance this is the start of a new rivalry?”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Is it a rivalry if she keeps winning?”

“She said she’s saving more talk for the rematch,” the reporter added.

Paige’s smirk deepened before she could stop it. “Then I guess I better be ready for a whole TED Talk next time.”

Cue another wave of chuckles, and Nai glancing over like, “Girl…”

You strolled in like you weren’t fresh off twenty-four points and a nationally televised clinic. One hand in your hoodie pocket, the other holding a Gatorade. Cool, cocky, unreadable—until they asked about her.

“That was your first time going head-to-head with Paige Bueckers in the W. Thoughts?”

You didn’t hesitate.

“She’s solid,” you said, sipping. “Moves well off the ball. Smart with the rock. She’s gonna be a problem once she stops getting cooked by me.”

Laughter erupted.

“She said you talk too much,” another reporter added.

“She said that?” you said, feigning offense. “Damn. Thought we were bonding.”

You leaned back in your chair, gaze unfocused for a beat before landing on the reporter again. “Nah, she’s tough. But I like testing people. See what they’re made of.”

“And?”

“And she didn’t fold,” you admitted. “She took everything I threw at her and came back sharper each quarter. It was fun.”

Someone from the back asked, “Any truth to the rumors that you two were seen talking in the tunnel post-game?”

You cocked your head, slowly grinning. “We talkin’ basketball? Or… talking?”

The room laughed nervously. You just winked. “Next question.”

@/user: Paige: “She’s a lot. Doesn’t shut up. But she backs it up.” Y/N: “Is she talking about basketball or feelings?” 

@/user: THE TENSION. THE BANTER. THE RIVALRY. I’M SICK. GIVE ME A 7-GAME SERIES.

@/user: The MVP vs. The Rookie. We need a documentary already. #TrashTalk #WNBArivalries

@/user: Not Paige smiling like that when they asked about the MVP. She’s so cooked. #WNBA #AcesVsWings

Her room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of her phone screen. Paige lay on her side, one arm tucked under her cheek, scrolling through a storm of notifications.

Clips of you calling her “rookie.”

Clips of her face after you hit that step-back three.

Clips of her biting back a smile when the reporters pressed.

And then—your post.

@/yn “Welcome to the league.” [Photo: You, mid-dribble, eyes locked on Paige. Captioned with a single flame emoji.]

The comment section was on fire.

@/user: she’s so disrespectful and yet… correct

@/user: the look she gives Paige at half court… I FELT THAT

@/user: why do I feel like they’re gonna kiss and then fight and then kiss again

Paige stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the Like button.

She didn’t like it. She didn’t comment. She did something worse. She opened your DM.

paige: cute caption. did your media team come up with that or are you just naturally annoying?

She hovered.

Deleted “annoying,” typed “relentless.”

Deleted that too.

paige: cute caption. you always this cocky or do i bring it out of you?

She hit send.

And instantly regretted it.

Until the little typing… bubble popped up.

You replied almost right away.

you: i was gonna ask the same thing you always this flustered or do i bring it out of you?

Paige bit her lip.

Her fingers hovered again.

paige: i’m not flustered

You replied immediately.

you: then why’d you wait till 1:30 am to message me? 

She stared at it.

Paused.

paige: had to wait until i cooled off. you ran circles around me all night.

you: oh baby. you have no idea what i plan for the rematch.

might have to start charging rent with how much space i’m taking up in your head

Paige groaned. Tossed her phone face down. Picked it up again thirty seconds later.

paige: cool. i’ll bring the eviction notice. and maybe dinner. idk. depends how the game goes.

You liked the message.

And for the first time all night… Paige smiled.

The Vegas skyline blinked through your window, lights still alive long after the city should’ve slept. You were stretched on your couch, hoodie draped over your chest, fingers absently spinning a basketball on the tips.

Your phone buzzed.

Incoming FaceTime: Paige Bueckers

You didn’t hesitate.

The screen lit up with Paige’s face—soft from the glow of her bedside lamp, one cheek pressed into a pillow, blonde curls mussed, barely holding her eyes open.

She blinked once, smirked. “Did I wake you?”

You arched a brow. “You think I sleep before 2am? Cute.”

She let out a soft laugh. “You looked cozy.”

You stretched, deliberately cracking your neck. “Just waiting on your call, actually.”

She snorted, and you caught the slight flush on her cheeks. “You were not.”

“Was too. Knew you’d cave eventually.”

Paige rolled her eyes and adjusted her grip on the phone, the screen bouncing slightly. “I’m not caving. I’m scouting. Big difference.”

“Oh, so you called to study film?” You grinned. “How’d I look from your angle?”

Paige laughed, tucking the blanket tighter around her. “Like someone who says way too much and doesn’t shut up.”

“You liked it though.”

She hesitated. You caught it—just the smallest pause, the kind that said don’t get cocky but also you’re not wrong.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I liked beating your screens. Liked catching you off guard with that crossover. Liked that look you gave me when I stripped the ball in the third.”

You stared at her for a moment. “You replay that in your head a lot?”

“More than I should,” she admitted. Quiet. Barely a breath.

Silence stretched between you like a string pulled taut.

“You ever think about how we’d be on the same team?” you asked, voice lower now.

Paige blinked. “You mean if I’d gone first in the draft?”

You nodded. “Could’ve been assists for days. You setting me up for corner threes. I could’ve made your stat sheet look beautiful.”

“I do just fine without you,” she said, but it was softer than usual. Playful. Curious.

“Do you?”

Paige held your gaze. No grin. No smirk.

Just... honesty.

“You got under my skin,” she said.

“I know.”

“And I didn’t hate it.”

Your voice dropped. “Good. Because I’m not done.”

Her smile returned—small, tired, real. “What’s next then?”

“Rematch in three weeks,” you said. “In Dallas.”

“I meant after that.”

Your chest tightened.

You ran a hand through your hair, suddenly aware of how much she was looking at you. Really looking.

“I guess,” you said slowly, “I ask if dinner after the game is still on the table.”

Paige’s lashes fluttered, amused and warm all at once. “Depends. You still planning to talk the entire time?”

“Only if I’m trying to distract you.”

She smiled. “You already do.”

A beat.

Then she yawned, blinking heavy eyes. “Okay. I have to sleep or I’m gonna show up to practice tomorrow thinking about you again.”

“Don’t act like that’s new.”

“Shut up,” she whispered, cheeks pink.

You grinned. “Sleep good, rookie.”

“Night, MVP.”

And when the call ended, neither of you slept for a while.

You both just laid there. Smiling. Thinking.

Plotting.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when Paige texted “Come over. Dinner?” but it definitely wasn’t her answering the door barefoot, in sweats and a tank top, holding a wooden spoon like she’d been born in a kitchen.

She looked… soft.

“Don’t say anything,” she warned as you stepped inside.

You smirked, glancing around the cozy Dallas apartment. “What, no red carpet? No velvet ropes for the MVP?”

She shoved your shoulder lightly. “Keep talking and you’ll be eating cereal.”

You leaned against the doorframe that led to the kitchen, arms crossed. “That’s bold, considering you texted me.”

“I was trying to be nice,” she muttered, turning her attention back to the pot on the stove. “I regret it already.”

You watched her stir something that smelled like garlic, tomato, and whatever softness she wasn’t saying out loud.

“You cook now?”

“I survive,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “You want wine?”

“Paige Bueckers offers wine before a game?” you teased, walking in slowly, deliberately, letting the tension simmer.

“Just one glass,” she said. “Don’t get clingy.”

You stepped up behind her, reaching for the bottle on the counter beside her. “I only get clingy if I win.”

She looked at you from the corner of her eye. “You planning on winning tomorrow?”

You poured two glasses and handed her one. “You planning on stopping me?”

Her fingers brushed yours as she took the glass. Neither of you moved for a second too long.

Paige broke it. “Sit down. Dinner’s almost done.”

You sat, but not before trailing your fingers along the back of one of her kitchen chairs—watching her the whole time.

Pasta. Something with a kick. You hadn’t expected that either.

“You surprise me,” you said between bites.

Paige shrugged. “You think I don’t know how to live alone?”

“I mean you do have a deal with DoorDash.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I like quiet. Cooking helps with that.”

You leaned back in your chair, glass in hand. “You get a lot of quiet now?”

She hesitated. Stirred her pasta. “More than I thought I would.”

You didn’t ask what she meant. Not directly. But she looked up, and you knew she saw the question in your eyes.

“Everyone expects so much,” she said softly. “On the court, off of it. Sometimes I just wanna…” she trailed off.

“Be a person,” you finished.

Paige nodded. “Exactly.”

You didn’t say anything right away. Just let the silence sit between you.

You asked, “So why me?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You invited me over. Of all people. Loud. Cocky. Trash-talker extraordinaire.” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes yet. “I thought I’d be the last person you’d want around when you’re looking for quiet.”

She held your gaze.

“Because,” Paige said slowly, “you’re loud, yeah. But you’re honest. And you’re one of the few people who doesn’t expect me to be perfect.”

You leaned forward, elbows on the table. “That why you couldn’t stop looking at me during the last game?”

She smiled, sheepish now. “Part of it.”

Your heart beat a little harder.

“So what is this then?” you asked, quieter now. “Us?”

Paige stood up slowly, collecting your plates. Her back was to you when she answered.

“I don’t know yet,” she said honestly. “But I wanted to see you again. Without cameras. Without noise. Just… this.”

You got up too, coming to stand beside her at the sink. “You could’ve just said you missed me.”

“I could’ve,” she said, bumping your hip with hers. “But then I’d owe you another glass of wine.”

You laughed, low and warm. “You owe me that either way.”

You stood there, hoodie back on, keys in hand. Paige leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, hair tucked behind one ear.

Neither of you moved.

“Good luck tomorrow,” she said, eyes softer now.

You leaned in, barely an inch between you. “You mean that?”

She smirked. “No.”

You grinned. “Good. Because I don’t either.”

A beat.

Her voice dropped. “But I’ll be watching you.”

You met her gaze, serious now. “I always do.”

And you left.

But neither of you stopped thinking about the other for the rest of the night.

The arena was already humming before the tip. Dallas fans packed the seats, jerseys and signs waving, anticipation thick in the air. Everyone was here for the rematch.

Aces vs. Wings.

You vs. Paige Bueckers.

Again.

Only this time, it wasn’t just a headline. It was personal.

You were warming up on the sideline, sinking threes like they owed you rent, when you spotted her.

Paige.

Stepping onto the court in navy and white, hair in a high ponytail, face unreadable except for the unmistakable twitch of a smirk when her eyes met yours.

She walked past your half of the court without breaking stride, but she said just loud enough for you to hear. “Hope you stretched. I don’t carry people who cramp up in the third.”

You grinned, spinning the ball in your hand. “You planning on keeping up with me this time, rookie?”

She turned to walk backward, meeting your stare mid-stride. “I’m planning on dropping 20 while shutting you up. Two birds. One game.”

“You flirt like you defend,” you called after her. “Too slow.”

Her laugh echoed behind her as she joined her team.

And just like that, the game was on.

You drew first blood.

Step-back three from the left wing. Nothing but net.

You didn’t even look at the basket.

You looked at her.

She raised a brow and pointed to her chest. “Me?”

You nodded. “All day.”

Paige responded with a mid-range pull-up off a screen that made your rookie guard stumble.

She jogged back past you, leaning in for a split second. “That one was for you. Little love tap.”

You bumped her shoulder. “You flirt like you finish—average.”

She grinned. “I’ll show you finish.”

The trash talk wasn’t the only thing heating up.

You stole the ball, fast break, blew a kiss as you laid it in.

She hit a contested three from deep and winked as she backpedaled. “Try guarding me next time.”

You nearly tripped over your own feet laughing. “You’re cute when you lie.”

“You’re cute when you lose.”

“Wouldn’t know the feeling.”

The arena didn’t know who to root for—every moment between you two was its own show. Cameras didn’t just follow the ball anymore. They followed the glances. The words. The closeness.

You were defending her now, full-body contact, not because you had to—but because you wanted to be that close.

“You always breathe this heavy when I’m on you?” she whispered.

You didn’t blink. “Only when I’m bored.”

She chuckled and faked a step—then leaned in and drew a foul.

“Touchy, aren’t you?” she teased as the whistle blew.

“I could say the same.”

Thirty seconds left. You had the ball.

Paige was guarding you, chest to chest, eyes locked on yours.

“Go on,” she said, breathless. “Show me something.”

You dribbled once. Twice. Crossed over.

“Still haven’t figured it out?” you murmured. “It’s never about the first move. It’s the last one.”

And just like that—spin, pivot, fadeaway from the baseline.

Cash.

The crowd lost it.

Tie game.

Paige just shook her head. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“You love it.”

She hesitated.

“...Yeah,” she said. “Kinda do.”

You lost—barely. Paige had hit the game-winning assist in the final second. But as the buzzer rang, neither of you looked at the scoreboard first.

You looked at each other.

She found you at half court, still flushed, still catching her breath.

“Dinner’s on you,” she said, grin wide and triumphant.

You tilted your head. “I drop 28 and lose by one, and you get the prize?”

She stepped closer. “I always get the prize.”

You eyed her. “So what am I?”

She didn’t flinch. “The main course.”

You blinked. Laughing, stunned, heart racing.

“Well damn, Bueckers,” you muttered. “You keep that up and I might actually let you win next time.”

She leaned in, voice barely above the noise. “Or we stop keeping score and just… see where this goes.”

And that?

That stopped everything.

Even the noise in your chest.

The cameras stopped at the court’s edge.

Reporters peeled off toward locker rooms.

But you?

You waited.

Leaning against the cool cinderblock wall deep in the bowels of the Dallas arena tunnel, sweat still drying on your skin, adrenaline still humming in your blood. The beat of the game was gone, but something else—something louder—was still thudding in your chest.

You heard her before you saw her.

Quick footsteps. A laugh. The soft thunk of her water bottle against the wall as she rounded the corner, alone.

Paige froze the second she saw you.

"Stalking me now?" she asked, trying for lightness. Her voice came out breathier than expected.

You pushed off the wall slowly. “Just figured you owed me a goodbye.”

“From the girl who called me a rookie all night?” she teased, stepping closer.

You didn’t smile. Not really. “From the girl who can’t stop thinking about how you looked when you hit that last assist.”

Paige licked her lips, heart in her throat. “That pass?”

You nodded. “The way your face lit up when it went in.”

Her laugh was softer now. “You watched my face?”

“Always.”

She stood just a foot away now.

The tunnel buzzed with overhead fluorescents, but the corner you were in was quiet. Tucked. Yours.

“I like when you talk,” Paige said, eyes sharp and unblinking.

“I like when you listen,” you said, voice lower now. “Even when you pretend you’re not.”

Her hand brushed your forearm.

It was light. Testing. And yet, it landed like gravity.

“I haven’t stopped replaying that dinner,” she whispered. “You didn’t kiss me.”

You looked at her like she’d just stepped into your mind. “Didn’t want to rush it.”

Paige stepped into you, chest brushing yours. “Rush it now.”

You didn’t move.

Not yet.

Instead, you reached up slowly—grazed your fingers under her jaw, tilting her chin so she had to look up at you.

“Still want me to shut up?” you asked, voice husky.

She smiled.

“I want you to shut me up.”

And that was it.

You kissed her.

Not like a rivalry.

Like a reward.

Like a promise that tomorrow, and every time after, would be more than just trash talk and triple-doubles. It would be this. Quiet corners. Loud hearts. Something neither of you could defend against.

Her fingers clutched your jersey. Your hand slipped into her hair. Neither of you pulled away for a long, long time.

When you finally did, she didn’t let go. Just whispered, “still calling me rookie after that?”

You grinned. “Only if you keep looking at me like this when I say it.”

The drive was quiet.

Not awkward—just heavy with everything that had already been said without words. You sat beside her, thumb grazing the inside of her wrist as she drove one-handed, the city lights streaking across the windshield. Paige didn’t speak until the car slipped into the garage.

“You want to come in?”

The question was soft. Careful.

You nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

Her apartment was dim, quiet. You’d been here before—dinner, laughter, that lingering stare as you left—but it felt different now.

Now, you weren’t dancing around anything.

Now, it was humming in the air between you.

She dropped her keys on the counter, turned to you, arms still crossed like she was holding something in.

“You really got under my skin tonight,” Paige said.

You stepped closer. “On the court?”

She shook her head. “Everywhere.”

You stood in front of her, barely inches between you. The low kitchen light spilled golden down the side of her neck.

“You gonna let me fix that?” you asked, voice low.

You didn’t let her answer. You just stepped into her space—into her warmth—and kissed her again. This time deeper, slower. Less teasing, more want.

She melted into it, fingers curling into your shirt as you backed her gently toward the couch. She dropped onto it with a soft gasp, legs still between yours. You hovered, foreheads brushing.

“You good?” you asked, your voice soft but firm.

Paige nodded, breath catching. “Yeah. Really good.”

You took your time. Kissed her again. Traced your hands up her sides, lifting the hem of her hoodie slowly. She raised her arms without question. Underneath was just a sports bra. You dragged a finger along the band.

“This okay?”

She nodded again, quieter now. “Please.”

You leaned down and kissed just under her jaw—then lower, slow and reverent. Her breath hitched when your mouth pressed to the top of her chest, still covered, but not for long.

You pulled her bra off gently, eyes locked with hers as you did.

She flushed under your gaze, arms instinctively twitching like she wanted to hide.

“Don’t,” you murmured, kneeling in front of her. “You’re beautiful. Let me see you.”

The blush deepened, but her arms dropped. Her legs parted slightly.

You kissed down her sternum, her stomach, her waistband—letting your mouth worship her inch by inch. When you hooked your fingers into her shorts, she lifted her hips, silently giving permission. You stripped her bare. Slowly. Thoroughly.

She was breathless before you even touched her.

You leaned in between her thighs, spreading them with your palms until her knees fell open completely.

Then you looked up at her, waiting.

Paige met your eyes, voice barely there. “Yes. Please.”

So you did.

You licked her slowly—soft at first, like you were memorizing her. She gasped when you flattened your tongue against her clit. Her hands clutched at the couch cushion beside her thighs. She was trying to stay quiet. Trying and failing.

You hummed gently against her, mouth never letting up, fingers gripping her hips to keep her steady.

“Let go, Paige,” you whispered into her. “You can be loud with me.”

And she was.

You slipped one finger inside her, then another—slow, deliberate, curling in rhythm with your tongue. Her moans were half-breathed whimpers, choked off by the shock of pleasure every time you hit that spot.

She reached down, fingers tangling in your hair, hips grinding against your mouth without shame.

“You feel so good,” she whimpered. “God—you’re…”

You kissed her inner thigh, then went back to work, flicking your tongue, curling your fingers harder now.

She cried out, head tipping back, voice ragged.

“Don’t stop—please, don’t—”

And she came.

Hard.

Body trembling. Back arching. Hands shaking in your hair.

You slowed down, kept your mouth soft against her until she whimpered from oversensitivity. You pulled back and kissed her knee, her hip, her stomach, working your way up as she caught her breath.

When you finally reached her lips again, her arms pulled you down, clinging.

“I’ve never…” she whispered.

You smiled. “You will. As many times as you want.”

And she did.

Sunlight spilled through the sheer curtains like it was trying not to wake anyone too suddenly.

You were already awake.

Not moving. Not thinking too hard. Just… watching her.

Paige lay on her stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow, the sheet barely clinging to her waist. Her hair was a gentle mess across her face and shoulders, strands catching the light like gold thread. Her cheek was soft, slack with sleep. She looked younger like this. Softer. Like nothing in the world had ever hurt her.

You didn’t move. Not for a long time.

Just traced slow patterns on the bare skin of her back with your fingertips. Circles between her shoulder blades. Lines down her spine. She shivered slightly but didn’t stir.

Eventually, though, her lashes fluttered. She blinked herself awake slowly, adjusting to the warmth at her side.

“Morning,” she rasped, voice still low and hoarse from sleep—and maybe from the night before.

You leaned in and kissed her shoulder. “Morning.”

She rolled onto her side, tucking the blanket around her chest and nestling closer to you, thigh sliding over yours.

“You’re still here,” she murmured, as if surprised.

You looked at her.

“I wasn’t going to leave before you woke up.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “That’s dangerously sweet.”

“You bring it out of me.”

Paige reached up, fingers brushing your jaw. “You leave today?”

You nodded slowly. “Flight’s in a few hours. Back to Vegas.”

Her smile faded a little—not sad, just reluctant. “Can’t believe you lost and still ended up in my bed.”

You smirked. “Can’t believe I lost and still feel like I won.”

That made her blush, eyes falling for a moment. She tucked her face against your chest.

You wrapped your arm around her, holding her there, like you could stall time with the weight of your body alone.

“I had fun last night,” she said quietly. “Not just the game. Not just the…” She trailed off, shy again.

“I know what you mean,” you murmured. “Me too.”

Neither of you said anything for a while. The air between you was warm. Safe. The kind of stillness you don’t find in most lives lived at full speed.

Paige lifted her head, chin resting on your chest.

“You’ll text me when you land?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll… let this be a thing?”

You looked at her—really looked.

One hand rose to brush a strand of hair out of her face. “Paige. It’s already a thing.”

She nodded once, a soft smile returning. “Okay.”

And that was it. No big goodbye. No grand confessions. Just two athletes caught between cities, schedules, games—and this thing neither of them asked for but weren’t ready to give up.

She walked you to the door an hour later, wearing your hoodie and nothing else, mug in hand.

You kissed her one last time.

It wasn’t rushed.

And when you walked out, her voice followed you.

“Don’t forget I dropped 21 on you.”

You turned over your shoulder. Grinning.

“Don’t forget you begged after.”

Her laughter rang through the hallway as the elevator doors closed.

[faebled-stories]

Mind Over Words

Kinkvember Day 10: Mind Reading

Ex-IZONE/Soloist Kwon Eunbi x Male reader

8k words

Kwon Eunbi was no stranger to adoration. As one of the most illustrious idols in the K-pop industry, she had become accustomed to the constant spotlight illuminating her every move. The shimmering lights of fame and the intoxicating cheers of her fans filled her life with an exhilarating thrill, while those around her—managers, stylists, and bodyguards—catered meticulously to her whims. They were like loyal shadows, wholly devoted to her, and Eunbi thrived on the attention that came with her status.

But when you entered her life, it was like stepping into a different world. Assigned as her new bodyguard after a particularly harrowing fan incident, you weren’t like the others who had surrounded her. Their gazes lingered, always softened with admiration or anxious deference, each gesture a silent acknowledgment of her celebrity. But you? You were an enigma, a puzzle. From the very first moment, Eunbi sensed something unusual, even unsettling about you.

Your composure seemed unbreakable, almost otherworldly. You didn’t hover; you didn’t flinch at her biting remarks or her occasional temper. You simply stood there, strong and steady, carrying out your duties with a level of professionalism that was both maddening and captivating. Why doesn’t he react to me? Eunbi wondered, confusion and frustration swirling within her. Why doesn’t he treat me like I’m someone to be adored?

What she didn’t know was that you could hear her thoughts, clear as a voice spoken aloud. You heard her silent questions, felt her frustration, even her curiosity. But she didn’t need to know that yet. You simply stood there, impervious on the outside, knowing every flicker of emotion that crossed her mind.

Eunbi’s initial attempts to ignore you were futile. Your presence was like a constant hum in the background, steady and unavoidable. She couldn’t shake how your striking features, rugged and composed, carried an aura of authority that demanded attention—yet you didn’t wield it like others. You emitted a calm restraint that, despite your undeniable allure, made her pulse quicken in unexpected ways.

Every day, she tried to brush off these reactions, but her inner thoughts were a chaotic mix of confusion and intrigue, and you felt it all. You didn’t react, didn’t show the slightest hint that her presence affected you. And with each passing day, Eunbi’s frustration grew.

As weeks passed, Eunbi found herself caught in an emotional bind. Somehow, you seemed to know what she needed before she could even ask. When she was parched after a long rehearsal, there would be a bottle of chilled water in her hand before she even turned around. At an outdoor shoot, as the heat grew unbearable, you’d have a towel ready or a fan positioned for relief. It was uncanny, almost supernatural.

Yet, the more you took care of her needs, the more irritated she became. Perfect was a word she’d heard too often, but you embodied it in a way that felt oppressive. Why were you so attuned to her? Why did you seem to understand her unspoken needs so well? Your silence and precision highlighted her vulnerability, unsettling her more than she cared to admit. You never asked for gratitude, never expected her approval or admiration. You were…unmoved.

Her frustration simmered, and her thoughts spiraled: Does he ever make mistakes? Why doesn’t he react to me? Why does he care about everything else but my attention?

Your calm exterior held, but you were fully aware of her thoughts. Eunbi’s inner voice pulsed with equal parts irritation and fascination. She lashed out in small ways, hoping to provoke a crack in your armor. She made cutting remarks, and tossed off-handed jabs your way, but you only replied evenly.

“I’m here to take care of you, Ms. Kwon. It’s my job,” you said once, offering a towel after a particularly grueling rehearsal, your tone gentle but unreadable.

That was the crux of her dilemma—you were too good at your job. Your calmness was both a shield and a barrier. Each time she lashed out, a part of her hoped for a reaction, for some glimpse of humanity behind the stoic mask. And you felt her silent yearning. It was palpable, woven into her thoughts as if searching for proof that you weren’t just her bodyguard.

What truly haunted her was the attraction that had blossomed almost immediately after your arrival. She fought against it, clinging to professionalism. But every stolen glance—at the strength in your hands, the confident set of your shoulders under a suit, the way your jaw would tense in moments of concentration—only pulled her deeper into a world of fantasy.

God, just imagine those hands on me, she mused one day, biting her lip before catching herself. The thought startled even her, and she chastised herself immediately. But she couldn’t resist the magnetic pull that only grew stronger with each passing interaction. You could feel her fantasies drift through her mind, the haze of longing nearly suffocating. Still, you held firm.

When ignoring her desire no longer worked, Eunbi switched tactics. She began dressing more provocatively around you, telling herself it was merely her style, but she knew the intent was far from innocent. The first time she walked into the room in a low-cut top, she threw you a glance, eagerly anticipating a response.

But you merely nodded politely, eyes scanning the surroundings as if her presence were no more remarkable than anyone else’s. Her thoughts turned bitterly annoyed: Seriously? He didn’t even notice.

The next day, she wore a tight dress that accentuated her legs and hips. She swayed deliberately as she passed, hoping to break your indifference. But once again, you remained indifferent, your gaze focused on her surroundings rather than her.

Why doesn’t he see me? she fumed inwardly. She knew she was attractive. She knew the effect she had on people. But with you, it felt like she was invisible.

“Do you think this dress looks good on me?” she asked one morning, adjusting the straps with a slight smirk. The neckline dipped, framing her figure in a way she knew was alluring.

You glanced briefly. “It’s appropriate for the event, Ms. Kwon,” you replied smoothly, sensing the frustration flaring up inside her even as she kept her expression neutral.

Appropriate? she seethed inwardly, biting back a scowl. I’m practically throwing myself at him, and all he can say is that it’s ‘appropriate’?

The tension built steadily over the following weeks, until it finally reached a boiling point at a fan meeting. She sat behind a long table, surrounded by the chatter and excitement of her fans, a familiar routine. But today, her mind was somewhere else—on you.

You stood nearby, ever-watchful, a statue of unwavering professionalism. She knew you were scanning the room, focused on your duty. But amid the buzz of adoring fans, she felt a strange emptiness. You were so close, yet so unreachable, her thoughts swirling with a longing she didn’t want to name.

He can’t be this detached. He has to feel something. Why won’t he let me see?

What she didn’t know was that her thoughts, though silent to others, echoed clearly in your mind, striking like a silent plea. You remained steadfast, a lighthouse against her growing storm, guiding her while suppressing your own turbulent emotions. You knew the line between duty and desire was razor-thin, and crossing it could unravel everything.

But Eunbi’s thoughts grew louder, her mind practically screaming her frustration, her curiosity, her yearning. It was almost as if she wanted you to hear her deepest, most vulnerable desires. And you heard every word, every unspoken admission, knowing that the boundary between you was wearing thin.

Why won’t he just look at me? Eunbi thought bitterly, frustration simmering just below the surface of her practiced smile. I could be naked, and he wouldn’t care.

The thought stirred up both anger and a strange thrill that unsettled her. It was childish—a possessive cry for your attention, yet it was raw, disarmingly real. She wanted you to notice her—needed you to, more than she had ever wanted anything. Yet, as she subtly stole glances at you out of the corner of her eye, she found nothing: no hint of interest, no flicker of recognition that her heart raced in your presence.

Her dress hugged her curves perfectly, an outfit chosen with every intention of catching your eye. A silent plea wrapped in silk and lace, it clashed painfully with the stoic indifference she saw in your gaze. Just as she caught herself hoping for your attention, the laughter of nearby girls pierced through her focus, their admiration for you like daggers to her heart.

“He’s so handsome!” one of them squealed, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at you. “Do you think he’s single?” another chimed in, her tone blending excitement with hope.

Eunbi’s jaw tightened, her forced smile growing strained. They’re not here for him. They’re here for me. Why are they looking at him like that? The surge of jealousy and insecurity nearly broke her composure. What was he even looking at? They’re flat as a plank compared to me.

But what twisted the knife deeper in Eunbi’s heart wasn’t just the attention you were receiving; it was your reaction to it. For the first time since she’d met you, a small laugh escaped your lips, a polite smile brightening your features just slightly. The sight was like a slap, lighting a painful flame of betrayal within her. You had never smiled at her like that, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many subtle advancements she made. Nothing could ignite a spark in you.

Are you kidding me? Her heart raced, jealousy and anger pounding against her ribcage. He can smile at them, but not at me? The thought was painful, almost intoxicating, as if it revealed a hard truth she wasn’t ready to confront: you saw beauty in them, but not in her.

Her gaze narrowed on the girls, their laughter stinging like a taunt. They were transfixed by you, oblivious to the charge in the air between her and you, their eyes shimmering with a careless admiration. He’s mine, she thought fiercely. Not yours.

The jealousy seethed within her, tightening the knots in her stomach with each passing second. She knew she shouldn’t focus on them—or on you—but try as she might, her attention kept snapping back to the frenzied crowd. Fans clamored to catch a glimpse of her, their smiles far brighter than the tension brewing inside her heart. She struggled to maintain her facade, to plaster a smile on her face while signing autographs, yet nothing could shake the bitter realization that had taken up residence in her chest.

As she forced herself to engage with the fans ahead of her, the laughter of those girls, and the image of you chuckling at their admiration, echoed in her mind. Would she ever break through the wall you had built around yourself? And why, despite everything, did she still hope for your gaze to meet hers, even if just for a fleeting moment?

And then, her already brittle patience snapped with the next fan in line—a man whose presence was a jarring departure from the girls. A middle-aged man stepped forward, his smile wide enough to reveal uneven teeth, but it was the way his eyes lingered on Eunbi that made her stomach churn. “Eunbi-ssi,” he said, a shadow of something unsettling lurking in his voice. His gaze traveled down her body before snapping back to her face, and she forced a polite smile, wishing desperately to push the waves of jealousy swirling in her mind into the recesses of her consciousness.

“I’ve been following your career for years,” he continued, his eyes uncomfortably assessing her. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”

Great, she thought, her stomach churning in disgust. Another creep.

Eunbi clenched her jaw, masking her distaste with a polite response. “Thank you for your support.” Her voice, sweet yet strained, fell flat in the air, thick with tension. As she hastily signed the man’s poster, she mentally urged him to move along.

But the encounter was far from over. The man extended his hand with a persistence that unsettled her, the simple handshake suddenly feeling invasive. Reluctantly, she took his hand, hoping the interaction would be brief. But as his grip tightened, she felt a chill run through her—a sense of an unseen boundary being crossed. His fingers lingered too long, and he leaned in closer, invading her personal space with an oily request, “Can I get a special picture? Just between us?”

Let go, she thought desperately, panic flickering in her eyes. Why won’t he let go?

Her pulse quickened, her mind spinning as panic threatened to take over. With every second that passed, she felt more cornered, her instincts screaming for her to pull away, but his grasp tightened instead. Her gaze darted to you, instinctively pleading for a reprieve from the unwanted encounter.

Without hesitation, you stepped forward, seamlessly inserting yourself between Eunbi and the unwanted fan. Your presence was commanding, authoritative yet calm, exuding a sense of protection that immediately eased some of her unease. “That’s enough.Take your hands of Ms. Kwon before I force them off,” you said, your voice steady and unwavering.

The fan blinked, his bravado crumbling as he quickly released Eunbi’s hand. He mumbled an apology, retreating with a pale face, his previous confidence shattered. The relief that flooded through Eunbi was palpable, yet beneath her relief lingered a gratitude so profound, it unsettled her, a quiet acknowledgment that went beyond mere professionalism. You had stepped in at exactly the right moment, just when she needed you the most. It wasn’t just about professionalism anymore. It was something deeper. You had understood her discomfort before she even had a chance to voice it.

-----

Later that night, Eunbi paced back and forth in her room, her mind racing with everything that had happened. The way you had stepped in with that fan, the way you always seemed to know exactly what she needed—it was starting to feel like too much. How does he always know? she wondered, her frustration bubbling over. How does he do it?

Unable to let it go, she crossed the hall and knocked on your door. When you opened it, your expression was as unreadable as ever, but tonight, she wasn’t going to let you keep hiding behind that calm facade.

“Ms. Kwon” you said, your voice unwavering. “Is something wrong?”

Without waiting for an invitation, she stepped past you into the room, her frustration pushing her forward. “How do you do it?” she demanded, turning to face you, her pulse quickening.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“You always know,” she snapped. “You always know what I need before I even ask. How do you do that?”

For a moment, you hesitated, your gaze holding a flicker of something darker, though your voice remained steady. “It’s my job to take care of you.”

“That’s crap, you know what I’m talking about,” she shot back, shaking her head. “It’s not just your job. You know things… things you shouldn’t know.”

You stayed silent, eyes searching hers, and then finally said, “I pay attention. I notice things.”

Eunbi’s mind spun with conflicting emotions, a tangled mess of confusion and desire. Is that all it is? Could he really just be that observant?

But she knew there was more to it than that. No one had ever been able to anticipate her needs the way you did. Not her staff, not her fans—no one.

Her thoughts spiraled. How does he know exactly what I want, even when I don’t say it?

Frustration took over. “If you’re so good at paying attention,” she said, stepping closer, “then why don’t you ever...”

She stopped herself, caught off guard by her own longing. Why don’t you ever touch me? Why don’t you ever lose control?

Your gaze held hers, intense and unreadable. Taking a step closer, your presence fills the space between you with a magnetic intensity.

Her breath hitched. She was so close to losing control herself, her body trembling with a desire she’d been fighting for weeks. Yes. Finally, I’ve wanted this since the day I met you.

But she couldn’t say that. Instead, she stammered, “We... we shouldn’t. We’re professionals.”

Your lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. “Are we?”

Eunbi stepped back, trying to regain some sense of control. “We should keep this... professional. I don’t see you this way .”

You paused, as if weighing her words, and then took a step back as if to agree with her.

Her heart seized in her chest. No. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.

You turned back, eyes dark with amusement. “I think you do want this,” you murmured, your voice low.

Eunbi’s breath caught as you moved closer, your body pressing against hers. All her resistance crumbled.

“You want me to stop?” you asked, your voice low, almost teasing.

Eunbi’s breath caught in her throat as her thoughts betrayed her once again. No, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.

Her heart pounded in her chest as you reached out, your hand gently brushing her arm. The touch sent a shock of heat through her body, making her breath hitch. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. All she could think about was how badly she wanted you to keep going, to let go of that rigid professionalism just for once.

You leaned in closer, your breath warm against her skin as you whispered, “Is this what you want?”

Eunbi’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She knew she should push you away, knew she should tell you to stop—but she couldn’t. She couldn’t fight the desire that had been building inside her for weeks.

Yes, it is. I want this. I want you.

But out loud, she shook her head, trying to hold onto some semblance of control. “We... we shouldn’t, it's wrong.”

Your lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. “Why is it so wrong?” you repeated, your voice filled with a dark amusement.

Eunbi’s body betrayed her as she stepped closer, her heart racing. Just rip my top off already. I want you to touch me. I’ve been waiting for this.

Your eyes darkened as you heard her unspoken thoughts, and for the first time, Eunbi saw a crack in your calm demeanor. You moved in closer, your hands sliding up her arms, sending shivers down her spine. And then, with a low, dark chuckle, you did exactly what she had been begging for in her mind—your fingers gripped the fabric of her top, and with one swift motion, you ripped it open.

Eunbi gasped, her body reacting instantly to the cool air hitting her skin. She stared up at you, wide-eyed, a mix of shock and thrill coursing through her. “What the hell—” she began, trying to keep her voice steady, but she was too flustered to hide how much she was enjoying it.

Your gaze never wavered as you leaned in, your lips brushing her ear. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” Your hands moved to her chest, teasing her exposed skin, and Eunbi’s breath hitched as the intensity of your touch sent waves of pleasure through her.

“I... I didn’t say that,” she protested weakly, her voice trembling. “You just... ruined my shirt.”

But her mind was screaming a different story. Finally. Oh god, I’ve been waiting for this. Don’t stop. Touch me more.

You chuckled softly, your fingers trailing over her skin. “You didn’t have to say it.”

Eunbi’s breath hitched as your hands moved across her chest, teasing her exposed skin. She wanted to push away, to tell you that this was wrong, that they shouldn’t be doing this, but her body had a mind of its own. Her heart raced as your fingers trailed over her nipples, sending electric jolts of pleasure through her.

“We... we should stop,” she said breathlessly, her voice trembling as she tried to regain some control. “This isn’t... we can’t...”

But your gaze was dark, intense, and you weren't planning on stopping. Leaning down, your lips finding her sensitive nipples, you began to suck and tease, your tongue swirling over them in a way that made Eunbi’s entire body shudder.

Oh my god, she thought, her mind spiraling. I’m so wet. Ugh just take me already... I’m so easy for you.

“Wait, stop...” she said weakly, her voice barely a whisper. “This isn’t right.”

You could hear her every thought, the conflict raging inside her as her body responded to his touch. His hands slid down her sides, slowly beginning to undress the remaining items. She gasped, her body trembling as his fingers brushed over her waist, tugging at the fabric of her pants.

“N-no,” she protested, trying to hold onto the last shred of professionalism. “We... we need to stop. ”

But you don’t stop. You know better. You know exactly what she wants, even if she can’t admit it to herself. Slowly, deliberately, you undress her, your touch firm yet gentle as you pull her pants down, along with her panties, leaving her completely bare beneath you.

Eunbi’s heart races, her mind spinning with conflicting thoughts. This is wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this. But at the same time, another voice in her head screams louder. I want you. I want you so badly. I’m so wet for you. Just take me already.

You have her on her back now, your eyes never leaving hers as you lower your face between her legs. Eunbi’s breath catches in her throat, her body trembling with anticipation as your hands slide up her thighs, parting them gently.

“Fuck” she gasps, her voice shaking as she tries to hold onto her composure. “This is too far…”

And then, your mouth pressing against her most sensitive spot as your tongue begins to tease and explore. Eunbi’s entire body jolts with pleasure, her back arching off the bed as a moan escapes her lips.

“Oh my god...” she gasps, her mind spinning. This feels so good. Too good…

Your tongue works expertly, drawing out wave after wave of pleasure as you move between her legs. Eunbi’s hands grip the sheets, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensations crashing through her. But even as she's lost in the moment, another thought pushes to the front of her mind.

If he starts playing with my nipples, I’ll lose it. I’ll completely lose control.

Hearing every word, your hands moved up her body, tracing the curve of her waist before finding her breast. You gently cupped it, feeling the weight of her fullness in your hand. Eunbi inhaled sharply, her breath hitching as your thumb brushed against her nipple. The sensitive bud hardened under your touch, and you couldn’t help but smile at the involuntary response.

With a feather-light touch, you traced the outline of her nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from Eunbi. Her back arched slightly off the bed, a silent plea for more. You obliged, your fingers now gently twisting and tugging her nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. Eunbi had unknowingly given you the key to her pleasure—a natural button on her chest that you savored with delicate attention.

Her orgasm took her by surprise, hitting suddenly and with intense force. She couldn’t hold back a loud, involuntary gasp as her back arched off the bed, a testament to the pleasure coursing through her body. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, meeting your touch with a needful urgency, as wave after wave of ecstasy overtook her.

The Idol’s mind went blank, all conscious thought evaporating in an instant as her body trembled beneath your touch. Every muscle in her body seemed to tense up and then release, a violent shudder passing through her with each passing moment. Her breathing became ragged, panting and gasping for air as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was on fire, consumed by the overwhelming intensity of her release.

“Oh my god... oh god...” she moaned, her voice a breathless, broken whisper. Her fingernails digging into your hair as she struggled to maintain some semblance of control. But it was futile, her body was beyond her control now, completely at the mercy of the exquisite pleasure coursing through her veins. Her toes curled, her legs shook, and her whole body trembled with the force of her orgasm.

"This is too much... it feels too good... I can’t stop..." Her thoughts are a mess, her body spiraling out of control as you continue to pleasure her, your tongue never letting up. Every stroke sends another surge of ecstasy crashing through her, pushing her deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

She was helpless, completely at his mercy, and she loved every second of it. Her body trembled, her mind overwhelmed by the intensity of her orgasm, but even in the middle of it, she wanted more. Needed more.

Oh god... I need you inside me..

You finally pull back, your lips glistening with the evidence of her pleasure, watching in awe as Eunbi’s body quivered, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Her chest heaved, rising and falling with each labored breath, the pinkened peaks of her nipples standing tall and proud. You had done this to her, reduced her to a trembling, gasping mess.

Standing up, your expression was unreadable as you began to undress, the room heavy with the tension that still lingers between you. Eunbi’s heart races as she watches you, her body still thrumming with desire, even after the intensity of her orgasm.

But then, suddenly, you pause, glancing down at her, and for a moment, it looks like you’re about to step away.

Eunbi’s breath catches in her throat, panic seizing her for a split second. No. No,waht are you doing?..

You turned slightly. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind screaming in frustration. Don’t you dare leave. Please. Please stay. I need you to stay.

Her lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come. She was too conflicted, too torn between her desire and the thin thread of professionalism she still tried to cling to. “W-Wait” she stammered, her voice weak and trembling. 

You turn back toward her, a faint, teasing smile curving on your lips as you slowly undo your belt. You've heard her thoughts loud and clear, and the amusement in your eyes only makes her heart race faster.

“You want me to stay?” you ask softly, your voice a low, teasing rumble.

Eunbi’s breath catches in her throat, her body still trembling with need. She can feel the heat radiating off you as you stand above her, your presence overwhelming.

Yes. Yes, I want you to stay. I need you to finish this.

As you undress fully, your eyes never leave hers, the weight of your gaze making her tremble even more. You’re toying with her now, enjoying the way her thoughts betray her true desires, even as she tries to resist.

You move back toward the bed, positioning yourself between her legs. Eunbi’s breath quickens as she feels your hands slide up her thighs, parting them gently. Her body is already responding to you, her core throbbing with need, but her mind is still at war with itself.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as it trailed down her neck and your hands slid up her body, teasing her one last time before positioning your length at her entrance. Her body tensed in anticipation, her heart racing as she felt you used her arousal to coat your member.

“No...” she gasped, her voice barely audible. “We can’t...”

Hurry up and fuck me, I need this.

As you slowly pressed inside her, Eunbi’s body trembled, her breath catching in her throat as you filled her completely. Every inch of you sent waves of pleasure through her, and even though her mind screamed for her to hold onto control, her body had already surrendered.

Soft protest escaped her mouth as her thoughts were swirling all over the place. Yes, yes, yes. This is what I wanted. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

Your movement was slow at first, each thrust deep and deliberate, drawing out the pleasure with every motion. Eunbi’s hands gripped the sheets, her body responding to every movement, her hips lifting to meet his as she completely gave in.

Slap me... slap my tits...play with it. The thought blazed through her mind, a desperate plea for more, for something to push her over the edge again. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. 

You hesitate for a moment, teasing her, holding back just enough to drive her wild. Beneath you, Eunbi’s body writhes, her thoughts growing louder, more frantic. Please, please. Slap my tits. I need you to break me.

Finally, you give her what she wants. Your hand comes down on her chest, the sharp sting of your slap sending another wave of pleasure crashing through her. Eunbi cries out, clenching tightly around your shaft as her back arching off the bed, the pressure inside her intensifies.

Oh god, yes. Yes, this is what I needed.

As you repeat the assault on her chest, your movements quicken, each thrust deep and deliberate. Eunbi’s mind is spinning. Her body trembles beneath you, her hands gripping the sheets as wave after wave of pleasure courses through her. She’s lost control, her body responding to every touch, every stroke, as you drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I need you.

You don’t slow down. You thrust into her deeper, your hands gripping her hips as you move faster, the tension between you building with every second. Eunbi’s breath comes in shallow gasps, her body arching off the bed as the pleasure overwhelms her.

“We can’t... we can’t do this...,” she whispers, her voice shaking as she tries to hold onto control. You hear her thoughts as clearly as if she’d spoken them, and you don’t stop. You can feel the way her body responds to you, the way she’s giving in completely, even as her lips whisper half-hearted protests.

Leaning down, your breath warm against her ear, you murmur, “Do you really want me to stop?”

For a moment, she hesitates, her lips parting as if to protest. Her eyes search yours, torn between her restraint and the undeniable pull she feels. Then, as her need overtakes any lingering hesitation, she gives in, her voice barely more than a whisper at first.

“Forget it,” she breathes, her voice trembling with raw honesty as her desires spill forth, unrestrained. “Just keep going. Please… just keep fucking me as hard as you can.”

Her words hang in the air, her vulnerability laid bare, yet her gaze remains fixed on yours with unguarded need. In that look, she surrenders fully, giving herself over to the moment. You feel her body respond, breaths coming quicker, her back arching to meet you as she invites each touch, every movement with an openness that only intensifies the desire between you.

With renewed intensity, you fully connected your hips, your hands sliding up her body before resting firmly on her chest. Your fingers graze her sensitive skin, each touch sparking a fresh surge of pleasure that sends her gasping, her body yielding fully to your hold. You use her chest to steady yourself, fingers pressing into her soft skin as you thrust deeper, guiding her into the rhythm that grows stronger with every moment.

As you move with a cadence that speaks of the ancient knowledge of lovers, a gasp escapes her lips, a note in the symphony of pleasure that fills the room. The rhythm is intoxicating, a steady drumbeat that resonates with the very core of your beings. But then, with a swift, powerful slap, you break the pattern, introducing a new sensation that draws a moan from her, a sound that hangs in the air like a delicate promise.

Her body responds instinctively, pressing closer, as if seeking to merge with your own. Each movement is a testament to the raw, urgent energy that flows between you, a force that cannot be contained or denied. Her soft moans grow more intense, a crescendo that builds with each shared breath. You feel her hands slide up, fingers gripping your arms, a silent plea for anchor as the pace grows faster, the dance more frenzied.

"Oh god," she murmurs, her voice a melody that harmonizes with the sound of skin meeting skin. The words are a benediction, a surrender to the overwhelming sensations that course through her. Her breath hitches, a staccato that matches the rhythm of your movements, as the pleasure builds, a wave on the verge of breaking.

With each thrust, the connection between you deepens, a magnetic pull that aligns your bodies in perfect rhythm, as if an invisible thread weaves through you, binding you together. Every touch, every moment, brings you both closer to the edge, the tension between you coiling tighter, a spring wound to the brink of release.

As you continue to thrust, you can feel the heat building between you, matching the desperate need in her gaze. Her nails dig into your chest, urging you on, as she matches your rhythm, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You can feel her body trembling beneath you, her muscles tensing as she nears her own release. The feeling of her, clenching around you, is almost too much to bear. You can feel yourself swelling inside her, ready to release all the pent-up desire that has been building between you.

"I'm so fucking close" she whimpers, her voice barely audible as she gasps for breath. You can see the anticipation in her eyes, the need for that final, shattering release.

“Wait... Pull out“ she gasps, her voice barely audible. ”don’t cum inside me,"  sounding like she was talking to herself rather than you.

But her mind betrays her, drowning out her own words. Please, fill me up. I need it. I want you to breed me. I’m yours.

You don’t slow down. Your pace quickens, each thrust deep and powerful, driving her closer and closer to the edge of another release. Eunbi’s mind is in chaos, her thoughts a jumbled mess of conflicting emotions.

“Please... pull out,” she whispers again, her voice trembling. “We... we shouldn’t... you can’t cum in me…”

But all you could hear were the relentless and loud thoughts circling in her mind I want you to fill me. I need you to cum inside me. I need you to breed me like the slut I am.

You groan softly, your hands gripping her hips tighter as you thrust into her harder, deeper, pushing her closer to the brink. You know exactly what she truly wants, even as she fights against it with her words.

“No...stop...” she gasps, her voice barely a whisper now. “Pull out...”

But her thoughts scream louder, desperate, begging: Yes. Yes. Please, fill me all the way up.

With one final thrust, you position your hips and penetrate at just the right angle, striking a special spot and sending Eunbi spiraling into a whirlwind of unrestrained pleasure. As the intensity of her orgasm builds, she feels completely enveloped by the exquisite sensations flowing through her body. Her back arches off the bed, a testament to the overwhelming ecstasy that has taken control. The thoughts of professionalism and restraint that once lingered in her mind fade away, replaced by an all-consuming focus on the indescribable pleasure that now captivates her.

A guttural cry escapes her lips as her hips buck wildly, moving in rhythm with the overwhelming surge of release. Her body, slick with sweat, trembles with each wave of pleasure that crashes over her. In this moment she is simply a being overcome by the raw, primal exhilaration of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Every touch, and every thrust propels her closer to the edge of oblivion. Your hands roam freely over her body, finding their way to the soft mounds of her breasts. Cupping them tenderly, your fingers gently knead the delicate flesh, before zeroing in on the sensitive peaks of her nipples.

As you take one taut bud into your mouth, you flick your tongue over the sensitive tip, causing Eunbi to gasp at the sudden jolt of pleasure. Biting down ever so slightly, the delicious mixture of pleasure and pain sends her senses into overdrive. simultaneously, you pinch and tug at her other nipple, eliciting a raw, visceral response from Eunbi's body. Her breath hitches, her heart races, and she is certain she may very well shatter into a million pieces from the sheer force of the sensations coursing through her.

Her mind reels as your mouth continues to work its magic on her aching nipple, while your fingers continue their relentless assault on the other. She can feel each tug, each pinch, and each flick of your tongue as if they are imprinted on her very soul. Every sensation is amplified, every nerve ending electrified, as her body is enveloped in a cocoon of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

And as if you can sense her growing need, her unspoken desire, you give her exactly what she craves. She can feel the throb of your member, filling her to the brim, each pulse sending another jolt of pleasure ricocheting through her body. As you continue to pump into her, she can feel her teetering on the edge of an abyss, the intensity of her impending release building with each thrust

Then, suddenly, she's there. The world around her fades into obscurity as she is consumed by the sheer force of her orgasm. It rips through her like a tempest, leaving her breathless and trembling in its wake. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her, a cacophony of sensations that leave her mind reeling and her body spent.

As you both come undone together, she feels your seed in every crevice inside her, each drop igniting another wave of pleasure that ripples through her. Your breathing, once ragged and urgent, begins to slow, the rhythm softening as your shared climax fades into a quiet, tender aftermath. A moment stretches between you, the intimacy lingering in the warmth of your entwined bodies. You gradually withdraw, and she’s left with a sudden, aching emptiness that sends a shiver down her spine. The absence is palpable, and she fights the urge to reach out, the space between you now filled with a longing that leaves her breathless.

You stand at the edge of the bed, gathering your clothes in silence, each movement careful and slow, as if holding back something heavy. Your gaze remains fixed on the floor, and Eunbi senses the tension in the air, an unmistakable shift between you that makes her stomach clench.

“Hey…” she started softly, her voice edged with worry. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, you didn’t respond, keeping your back to her, shoulders tense and rigid. Silence stretched between you, thick and weighted, pressing down until finally, you murmured, “I… I shouldn’t have done that.”

Eunbi sat up, her mind clearing quickly, though her body was still tingling from the intimacy you’d just shared. “What? Why not?” Her brow furrowed as she watched you, confusion tightening her chest. Does he regret it?

You shook your head, still not meeting her gaze. “I never wanted to… use my powers like this.”

“Powers?” she echoed, her frown deepening. She pulled the sheet tightly around herself, unsure where this conversation was headed. “What powers?”

You sighed, the sound long and heavy, as if you were exhaling something you’d been holding in for a long time. “I can… hear thoughts, Eunbi. I can read minds.”

Eunbi blinked, stunned. “What?” she said, a slight, disbelieving laugh escaping her. “Come on, be serious.”

But you weren’t laughing. You finally turned to her, meeting her gaze with an expression full of guilt and something even deeper, something that looked like regret. “It’s true. I’ve had this ability my whole life. I shouldn’t have used it with you.”

Her eyes widened as she processed your words, her pulse quickening. She wanted to argue, to laugh it off, to tell you that you were joking, but something about the look in your eyes made her stop. Her mind reeled with memories of all the times you’d known exactly what she needed, all the moments when you’d read her without her saying a word.

“Prove it,” she challenged, her voice soft but firm. She watched you carefully, waiting.

You nodded, your tone gentle but earnest. “Think of something. Anything. Just… something random.”

After a slight pause, she glanced around the room and landed on a small object, the orange lamp on the bedside table. She tried to keep her gaze neutral.

Your eyes flickered, and after a moment you said, “Orange lamp.”

Eunbi felt her breath catch, but she quickly raised an eyebrow, refusing to let you see her surprise. “Okay, maybe you just saw me look at it. That’s not enough to prove anything.”

A small smile tugged at her lips as she raised her chin, still feeling the warmth of your seed inside her, a tender reminder of the closeness you had just shared. The thought slipped into her mind without hesitation, unguarded and impulsive.

That was the best that I’ve ever been fucked.

You rubbed the back of your neck, your shy smile growing wider as you looked down, clearly trying not to laugh. After a moment, you met her gaze, the warmth in your eyes unmistakable. “Thank you… it was the best for me as well.”

Eunbi’s cheeks flushed a deep red as her mouth dropped open. “W-What,” she muttered, burying her face in her hands. Her blush deepened, yet as she looked up at you, the sincerity in your expression melted her embarrassment, softening her self-consciousness. The air between you felt charged, intimate, as if words were no longer needed. And then, a sinking realization washed over her, stirring a feeling of both horror and shame.

If you could hear everything… then you had heard everything.

Her cheeks flushed with a deep embarrassment, and as her thoughts wandered back to just a few moments earlier, her face burned with the realization. All those things she had thought, the raw and explicit thoughts she’d never voiced. She buried her face in her hands, barely able to look at you. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You heard all of that, didn’t you?”

You winced, nodding. “Yeah… I’m sorry.”

Eunbi’s heart pounded in her chest, a mix of mortification and anger welling up. But beneath it all, she sensed the regret in your voice, the heaviness in your words. Slowly, she looked up at you, studying the anguish etched across your face.

“I shouldn’t have used it,” you confessed, your tone thick with remorse. “I never wanted to invade your privacy like that. I… I got caught up in my feelings for you, and I crossed a line.”

Her initial embarrassment softened as she saw the depth of your guilt, the pain you seemed to be carrying. She could see how much you regretted letting your guard down, how much you wished things had unfolded differently. Instead of feeling betrayed, a warmth of compassion began to swell within her.

Sighing, Eunbi took a deep breath. “I... I don’t blame you,” she said softly, her voice more understanding now.

Your eyes widened slightly, surprise breaking through your guarded expression. “You don’t?”

Eunbi shook her head, her heartbeat still racing but her voice calm and steady. “I mean, yeah, it’s... a lot to take in. But you didn’t do anything I didn’t want. You just... knew it before I could say it.”

You looked at her, as if struggling to believe that she could be so forgiving. "But I—"

She stopped you, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re not a bad person for this. You didn’t manipulate me. I’ve wanted this for a long time. You just... heard what I was too afraid to say.”

Eunbi’s face heated again, the memory of her own thoughts flooding back, but with it came a different feeling. If you had heard her deepest desires and still felt such remorse, then maybe you hadn’t betrayed her. Maybe you were struggling, too.

“I’m not mad,” she continued, her tone soft but clear. “Embarrassed, yeah. But not mad.”

Relief flickered across your face, though the weight of guilt still lingered in your eyes. “What now? I can leave if you want me to.”

Eunbi took a moment to consider, then met your gaze with a quiet resolve. “No. I don’t want that. We can’t change what happened, but that doesn’t make it a mistake.”

She could see the uncertainty in your expression, the way you still seemed to doubt her forgiveness, but there was a hint of hope, a spark of belief.

“I don’t know if I can—”

“We’ll work it out,” she interrupted, her words firm, reassuring. “I don’t want to lose you. Not after this. We can keep it between us. It’s our secret.”

The promise settled between you, and slowly, you nodded, the tension in your shoulders easing as you stepped closer. “Okay,” you murmured. “We’ll keep it between us.”

Eunbi offered a small, tentative smile, reaching out to take your hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

-----

Months passed, and the secret between you became an unspoken bond, an intimacy shared in every glance, every touch, every fleeting moment that only you and Eunbi could understand. You had grown adept at living a dual life—professional on the surface, but connected by a private world of shared thoughts and hidden feelings. To everyone else, you were just her bodyguard: disciplined, unyielding. But to Eunbi, you were so much more.

At a sold-out concert, Eunbi danced across the stage, her presence commanding the room as fans cheered and sang along. The lights flashed, the beat reverberated, and in that sea of admiration, her focus was still somehow on you. There you were, standing by the side of the stage, your gaze steady, watching over her with unwavering vigilance. To anyone else, you were the ever-present protector, but she knew the truth hidden in your eyes.

As she danced, Eunbi found herself drifting toward the edge of the stage, closer to where you stood, her heart swelling with a sudden impulse. She locked eyes with you for the briefest of moments, and in that silent exchange, she sent a thought, simple but laden with the weight of everything she felt.

You have no idea how much I love you. I love you with all my heart.

Your reaction was instant. For a split second, your usually impassive expression faltered, your eyes widening in shock. She saw the vulnerability there, the raw emotion that no one else could see. The sight brought a grin to her face, laughter bubbling up as she saw just how deeply her words had affected you.

I finally broke you, she thought with amusement, her smile radiant.

You blinked, taken aback but slowly recovering, and then, as if to return the moment, you mouthed the words back to her, words that resonated in her mind just as clearly as if you’d spoken them aloud.

“I love you too.”

In that fleeting moment, the world around you seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you in a silent, unbreakable connection. Her heart soared as she returned to the center of the stage, her smile brighter than the lights that beamed down on her. The cheers of the crowd, the energy of the performance—it was all background to the quiet words still echoing in her mind. She had heard them, felt them, and knew them to be true.

And as the music played on, those words played in her heart, over and over, a melody just for the two of you.

[letteremi]

drawing Sukuna's markings on your face

“Hey, Sukuna.” You wave your fingers in greeting, careful not to disturb his intense focus. His expression is deadpan, his eyes laser-focused on the monitor before him. 

The mouse zips across the desk with micro precision, clicks and the sounds of colourful gunfire punctuating the otherwise silent room. “Hey, princess. What’s up?”

“Wanna show you something.” You lean closer, grinning impishly, and your heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves as the glow from his screen casts your face in red. 

“Yeah, baby?” He can’t help the curiosity in his voice. It’s not every day you come up to him with this attitude, and he knows that when you do, he’s in for a treat. 

Sukuna finally looks over, and freezes.  

“What the fuck.” 

Intricate, swirling markings stretch across your cheeks, curve elegantly over your nose, and angular lines sweep up on your forehead. Each line is painstakingly drawn on with your trusty eyeliner — is that what it is? Makeup terms are confusing — shaded and deepened with dark eyeshadow, and finished off with a subtle shimmer of highlighter that catches the light just right for ‘pizzazz’. 

You trace one of the ink lines along your cheekbones, trying not to laugh as his gaze finally meets yours. “Surprise.”

Sukuna blinks at you, like a baffled owl caught in daybreak. 

And then, a lazy grin spreads across his face, and his crimson eyes roam over your face like he’s savouring every inch of your handiwork. 

“Well, look at you,” he drawls, voice low, dripping in veiled taunts and mischief. “Tryin’ to steal my style, or what?”

Before you can reply, he reaches up and hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your face just so. His headphones are now slung on his shoulders, teammates’ distant shouts and Gojo’s loud cursing fading into irrelevance. His thumb brushes one of the lines by your jaw, sending warmth shooting through your body.  

Your face is beginning to heat up. Seriously, it was just for fun. Why’s he looking at you like that?

“You really went all out,” he murmurs, amusement, and something else, darkening in his eyes. “Should I be flattered, or jealous that you look this good?”

Sukuna leans closer, and the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne wraps around you — thick and familiar.

You are going to be the death of him. 

“I gotta say, you wear me well.” You barely have time to react before he’s tugging you into his lap, game long forgotten. Strong hands settle possessively on your waist as a wicked glint sparks in his eyes. His tongue licks the side of your neck, trailing to your ear. 

“Though, if you wanted to be marked by me, you could’ve just asked.”

You squirm, twisting in his grasp, and Sukuna’s smirk grows wider. “It was just preshower makeup, don’t have to make such a big deal of it.” Your breathless protests fall on deaf ears. 

“What ‘m hearing is,” Sukuna purrs, thick thumbs drawing circles on your thigh, slow and teasing, “we need to shower together.”

Fuck this game. Fuck the winning streak they were on, and fuck maybe risking dropping his rank. He’d climb back to the top, easily. 

Something far more important needed his attention. 

“Together?” you squeak, eyes growing as wide as dinner plates, face burning hotter than before.

Sukuna just grins, and with one smooth motion, hauls you up and over his shoulder. 

“Together.”

After all, he’s got to give you some real marks. 

-

© 2025 letteremi. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost my work to any platforms 

[angelovi]

Homecoming.·:≈☆≈:·.

cw; 18+ content, minors dni: spanking, fingering (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), breeding, age gap (reader is 22, ghost is 41), mirror sex, ghost is fully clothed in this, having to be quiet, gun fucking, quickie

summary: Its been a year since the supposed death of your husband after he was deployed, but when you wake up to find him lying next to you, alive and well, your life changes for the better.

an: short story, didn't wanna do too much lol

wc: 675

Marrying a soldier was always going to be tough, but getting the call that he was MIA while you’re carrying his child? That kind of loss cuts deeper than you ever imagined.

After a challenging hour of rocking and singing lullabies, you’ve finally settled your newborn baby girl to sleep for the night. As her tiny chest rises and falls in the soft glow of the night light, you feel relieved, determined to keep her peaceful and undisturbed.

You get into bed, but the sheets don't feel comforting. The light from the street lamp creates shadows that remind you of Simon's disappearance. You think about the laughter and good times you had together, now replaced by fear and worry.

You close your eyes, hoping to sleep, but feel overwhelmed by sadness and anxiety. Time seems to stand still, and you feel stuck in this moment, longing for the normal life you once had.

As you wake up, warmth envelops you from the big muscular man spooning you. You feel a curious stirring in your lower abdomen. The dim light filters through the curtains, highlighting the contours of his strong physique. His steady breathing and the security of his presence create a mix of intrigue and calm.

"Simon?.."

"Shhh, go back to sleep, love," he whispers softly, his movements tender and unhurried, as if memorizing the feeling of being this close to you. As my moans grow a little louder, Simon leans in, his lips brushing my ear as he murmurs, "Gotta be quiet, princess. Don’t wanna wake the baby. You’re such a good mama, I know you can keep it together for me…"

Simon slides his fingers into your mouth, stifling the moans threatening to escape as he takes you from behind with relentless precision. His grip is firm as he shifts you, positioning you to face the mirror beside the bed. “Look at yourself,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, “See how perfect you look while I’m ruining you.”

The first orgasm builds faster than you anticipated, crashing into you like a tidal wave.

Your body trembles as the wave of pleasure overtakes you, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Simon’s grip tightens on your hips, steadying you, a low, possessive growl rumbling in his chest.

His hand comes down to roughly meet your ass, spanking you hard. "That's my girl."

Your eyes meet your reflection in the mirror, cheeks flushed, lips parted, and a dazed expression that only fuels his intensity. Simon doesn’t relent, thrusting deeper, determined to chase your next high before you can even catch your breath.

"Daddy, fuck!" you gasp, barely able to get the words out.

That catches him off guard, his movements faltering for a moment before his lips curl into a slow, wicked smirk. "Say that again," he growls, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

"Daddy.."

"Again."

"Daddy!"

"Good girl." He pulls out quickly and you whine in protest. He spares a sympathetic smile before grabbing his pistol, ensuring the safety is on.

After seeing your concerned expression he reassures you. "It's alright love. You trust me yeah?" Before you can even mutter a response you can feel your hole being prodded at with the barrel of the pistol.

"S-Si!"

"It's alright baby take a deep breath.. Big stretch.." He slowly inserts the barrel of the pistol into you and you gasp at its size.

He slowly pulls the gun out before pushing it back in, feeling the way you instinctively tighten around it.

You toss your head back as a wave of pure bliss crashes over you, unable to hold back the soft sounds escaping your lips. "S-Si I'm gonna-"

"Let go. Make a mess around my gun baby girl."

With his words pushing you over the edge, you let go completely, surrendering to the moment without a second thought.

The baby's soft cries pull you from your haze, her stirring breaking the silence of the room. Simon chuckles, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Looks like you woke her, love. Guess we'll have to work on keeping it quieter next time."

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ stepbro!rafe pries your thighs open just to touch you.

warnings — stepcest. stepbro!rafe x stepsis!reader. toxic dynamics. slight dub-con.

cherie's note — i just know wearing a skirt around rafe will have you bent over somewhere like nine times out of ten. sign me up!

"cute skirt."

the voice cuts through the quiet of tannyhill like a blade — low, amused, familiar. it startles you at first, pulling your attention away from whatever show you weren't really watching, until you glance over your shoulder and see him standing there. rafe.

your stepbrother.

he's just gotten in, probably from whatever bullshit he spends his nights doing — joyriding with his lowlife friends, some half-hearted party, or straggling home still half coked-out despite your mother's stern lectures and ward's tight-lipped disappointment.

he drapes himself over the back of the plush couch, elbows planted on the cusshions, looming, with that stupid fucking grin spread across his face, the brim of his snapback flipped up, letting messy blond hair curl around his forehead. he adjusts the hat lazily, pushing it back with one hand like he owns the room — like he owns you.

smug. spoiled. dangerous.

he's close — too close — and you catch the familiar scent of the cologne that clings faintly to his polo-shirt; something clean, like bergamot, with a warmer undertone of cedar. it smells expensive — it smells like him.

"what d'you have under it, huh?" his voice is silk over gravel, dipping low and lazy, each syllable drawn out like honey. his eyes are already dragging slow over the length of your bare legs, unapologetic and hungry. the question rolls off his tongue like he already knows the answer.

and you find yourself tugging down the hem of your skirt, suddenly feeling exposed in the room, like an invisible spotlight had been casted directly on you, highlighting the shame and the guilt that ate the inside of your stomach. it was a stupid idea, wearing this skirt — or the poor excuse of one, anyway.

"rafe," you hiss, barely above a whisper, voice catching in your throat as you shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze. "not now — mom and dad just left the room."

he hums, a low sound from deep in his chest, and leans in closer — past the boundaries, crossing the line — his lips brushing just beneath the shell of your ear, breath warm and deliberate, "c'mon," he purrs, the edge of a smirk still playing at his mouth. "be a good girl for your big brother... show me, yeah?"

you barely have time to flinch before his hands are on you — rough and firm and greedy — sliding over your thighs, fingers digging into the soft skin as he pries them apart like he has every right to do so, like this was normal. a soft squeal escapes you, high and startled, as you try to push back, to twist away, but it's useless. his grip is unrelenting. his strength swallows yours whole.

he pulls you forward on the couch, dragging you closer against his chest, until your back is nearly arched and your thighs are wide and trembling beneath his palms. and then — fuck — you feel it.

the unmistakable press of his fingers, right where you need him most.

he doesn't rush. he doesn't need to. he has you right where he wants you, and there's no coming back from it now. he just eases the heel of his hand down over the thin fabric of your panties, letting it settle heavy and perfect over your clit. the lace does little to dull the pressure. if anything, it makes it worse — the texture catching against you just enough to make your hips twitch, for the ache.

"there she is," he breathes, almost too soft to hear, like it's some kind of secret between you. his fingers move with precision, rubbing tight, purposeful circles over the dampening fabric, every motion sends sparks ricocheting down your spine. "wasn't so hard, was it?"

you swallow hard, but it doesn't help. the whimper within claws at your chest, trembling just beneath the surface. and when he leans in again, breath warm against your neck, lips barely brushing the sensitive skin, the goosebumps follow instantly, racing down your arms.

he laughs — low and cruel — like it's all some kind of joke. like your family wasn't only a few thin walls away, while you grasped for his wrist pathetically and bucked into his palm in desperation, his voice squeaking out, "fucking pathetic how fast you fold."

[interstellarflare]

A Cinderella Story || Anthony Bridgerton

-PART ONE-

Summary: Have courage, and be kind. Words that you tried to live by ever since the passing of your parents. Though your step-mother and step-sisters did everything in their power to hide you and your status away from the rest of the Ton, you never expected to catch the eye of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton himself.

Authors Note: This is my first Bridgerton series! I had an absolute ball writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! There is a tag list open if anyone wishes to be kept updated for future parts. Gif by @greengableslover

‘The Prince smiled, extending his hand towards her with grace and ease.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked lowly, his eyes meeting hers with a kind yet mischievous twinkle. There was something about the Prince that made her heart flutter, that made her place her hand into his and reply-‘

The sound of hurriedly approaching footsteps and a chorus of shouting caused you to stuff the book beneath your pillows, a small panic settling over you as you quickly jumped out of your rickety bed and threw the old sheets over the mattress to at least make it look as if you hadn’t been lying in it mere seconds ago.

The door to the attic swung open, violently ricochetting off the wall and with a loud ‘bang’. You flinched, a shaky breath escaping you as you turned your gaze towards the form of your stepmother, her piercing greyish-blue eyes staring intently at you as she entered. She held her head high, the permanent scowl on her features examining every little aspect of the small space with precision. Her eyes landed on the small wooden table beside your bed, narrowing on the melted candle with the wax spilling over the sides.

“You were reading again, weren’t you?” She growled, her lips pursing in annoyance. Fiddling with your hands in front of you, you shrugged your shoulders slightly. “It wasn’t all night, Lady Worthington, I swear-“

“Nonsense, I can see the candle clear as day girl!” She shouted, a look of disapproval forming on her features. You held her stare, a small sense of guilt settling in your stomach the longer your stepmother remained in the attic. With a long and annoyed huff, she brushed he black-greying hair from her shoulder, looking you up and down with a look of disgust. “Get yourself cleaned up, and once you’re done start with breakfast. My girls are hungry, we have a long day ahead of us” she ordered, gathering her deep purple skirts and storming out of the room.

Releasing a breath you weren’t aware you were holding, your shoulders slumped in relief. You looked down at yourself and sighed, Lady Worthington was right. The clothes you wore currently were nothing but rags, and your day clothes weren’t much better. They were either oversized or too small, but you made do with the worn black and white maids dresses you were given. After getting changed and tying your hair back with a small piece of ribbon, you quickly skipped downstairs and into the kitchen.

You could hear Lady Worthington and her daughters cackling manically in the dining room, discussing their plans for the day, and how excited they were to be invited to Lady Danbury’s ball. Lady Danbury’s ball was one of the highlights of the season, or…so you had heard anyway. It had been a long time since you had seen the dear woman, you believed the last time you held conversation with her was when you were but a child. Your father, just after the loss of your mother, had taken you to one of Lady Danbury’s balls after deciding that leaving you at home would have been unwise at this grief-stricken time.

You remembered the beautiful dresses, the beautiful debutants who smiled and waved at your curious gaze. The kind bachelors who greeted you with a dance. And a young boy, hiding behind his father’s legs, his eyes following you wherever you went. Lady Danbury had been most gracious, you remember. A close friend of your mothers, almost like an aunt to you. But when Lady Worthington came into the picture and had taken control of your father’s inheritance after his passing, you were practically forgotten and hidden away from the ton. A part of you missed it, though you weren’t envious of today’s debutants desperately seeking husbands. Lady Worthington was perhaps one of the most persistent mothers out there, aside from Lady Featherington you hear.

This would be the third season that your stepsisters, Elizabeth and Mary Worthington, would participate in. They very much enjoyed flaunting themselves before the ton, given the state of their rooms with delicate and luxurious dresses and jewellery thrown about. They did not hide their wealth, rather your father’s wealth, that their mother had inherited, and bought the fanciest dresses money could buy. It had almost worked one season, Colin Bridgerton had visited to call on Elizabeth. But upon seeing how lavishly she lived, and how horribly she had treated you upon her request for tea for the two of them, the third-eldest Bridgerton hadn’t called again.

She changed somewhat after that, you recalled. She didn’t find much enjoyment in gorgeous dresses or glittering diamonds. She didn’t speak much to you or her mother anymore either, but Mary was her confidant. Sometimes she would glance at you, a look of guilt on her face, but it briefly passed whenever her sister or mother made some snide comment about your presence.

Preparing breakfast was easily done. Keeping a portion for yourself on a separate plate, you carried the three other plates into the dining room with practiced ease. Mary squealed with delight, snatching one of the plates from your arm and almost knocking the others out of your grasp in the process. “Oh thank goodness, I’m starved!” she exclaimed, hastily digging in as if she hadn’t eaten in days. You handed a plate to Elizabeth, who seemed to nod slightly as you placed the plate before her. Lady Worthington however, merely sneered as you placed her plate on the table.

You excused yourself from the room and retreated into the kitchen, beginning to eat your portion of the remaining food whilst listening to their gossip quietly. They weren’t quiet by any means, though you supposed that it was in their nature to be loud and obnoxious.

“Mother, did you hear! I heard from Cressida that apparently Lord Bridgerton is looking for a wife this season!” Mary exclaimed, her words muffled likely by the food in her mouth. You heard Elizabeth sigh heavily “I won’t believe it until Lady Whisteldown writes about it-“

“Nonsense!” Lady Worthington cried, interrupting her daughter with a squeal, “If the rumour is true than we are going to take every advantage we can get. The two of you are going to do your damned best get his attention-“

“And what if we don’t, mother? What then?” Elizabeth spoke quietly, almost timidly. You heard Lady Worthington scoff “Oh, you will. We are going out as soon as possible to find you both new dresses for the ball tonight”.

“Oh mother, how exciting!” Mary cried, you could hear the chair scrape harshly against the wooden floorboards as she abruptly stood up from her seat, “We are going to be the most beautiful women at the Ball!”

“Y/N! Help my daughters get dressed! We will be heading out shortly, and make sure that the horses are prepared!” Lady Worthington shouted, the sound of her shrill cry causing a sense of panic to surge through you.

Coughing as you chocked on your food, you quickly wiped your mouth and fixed your skirts. “Yes, right away!” You called back, sighing heavily as you rushed back upstairs. Upon entering Mary’s room, your shoulders slumped in defeat. Clothes lay on almost every inch of the floor, dresses, undergarments, jewellery. This was going to be a tough morning.

Tag List:

@ladybirdbeetle7 @sweetsourpus @in-deans-arms @blackthorngirl @kee-0-kee

@sometimesminsan @prawntoastsworld @scoopsahoyspidey @darkness-falls-xo

@reallysparklychaos @hottie-bishop-belova @riptidewaters @jay-being-weird

@khhhhjj @golden-girasol @linnygirl09 @xoxonoire @stanmixtapes

@freyagallileaevans @gracielou0518 @judig92 @rafaaoli @queenslandlover-93

@esquivelbianca @fanfictioncafe @hjgdhghoe @sillynilly27

[societyfolklore]

Through the Cold  

Title: Through the Cold  (the electricity is out, let's keep each other warm) Pairing: Avenger Bucky Barnes x  Agent Female Reader

Summary:  After a mission gone awry, Bucky and Reader find shelter in a remote house on the outskirts of town. With the power out and temperatures dropping, they’ll have to find ways to stay warm.

Word Count:  2.7k

Warnings:  Warnings // Explicit Content //18+, Minors DNI, Fluff, Pet names, unprotected sex (Don’t!), Fingering. Not Beta read.

A/N: Another entry for @the-slumberparty December daze challenge) Day 13 (Yeah I don't know if I’m not really doing this right…) The wind howled outside, battering against the thin walls of the small house you and Bucky had taken refuge in. Snow piled high against the windows, casting the room in a muted, white glow. The mission hadn’t gone as planned, but you were both safe for now and luckily you’d found this house before the blizzard turned dangerous. You leaned against the window, rubbing your arms as you watched the storm rage outside. Your breath fogged the glass, and the chill in the air seeped through every crack and crevice of the old structure. Still it was better then being outside..

“It’s getting colder,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at Bucky. He was crouched by the fireplace, fiddling with a bundle of wood he’d found in the corner. His metal hand glinted in the dim light, steady and precise as he arranged the logs.

“I know,” he replied, his voice low and calm. “I’ll get this fire going in a minute.”

You turned back to the window, shivering as another gust of wind rattled the glass. Your coat and gear were soaked from the snow, and you hadn’t had a chance to dry off properly.

“We’ll be fine,” Bucky said from behind you, his tone firm but reassuring. “It’s just one night.”

“I know,” you murmured. “I just hate being stuck like this.”

The sound of a match striking drew your attention, and you turned to see a small flame catch on the kindling. The firelight danced across Bucky’s face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intense focus in his blue eyes. He fed the fire carefully until it roared to life, filling the room with a faint warmth.

“There,” he said, standing up and brushing his hands off. “That should help.”

You stepped closer to the fire, holding your hands out toward the flames. “Thanks,” you said softly.

Bucky nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned to inspect the rest of the room. The house was small, just a kitchen, a living area, and a bedroom. It looked like no one had lived here in years, but it was clean and dry, which was more than you could ask for given the circumstances.

“There’s no power,” Bucky said after checking the light switches. “Figures.”

“Great,” you muttered. “So, no heat except for the fire, no lights, and no way to charge our comms.”

“We’ll manage,” he said, his voice steady. “We always do.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Over the years, you and Bucky had been through worse. Still, the cold was already biting at your fingers and toes, and the thought of spending the night in these conditions wasn’t exactly comforting.

After a while, the fire began to warm the room enough for you to take off your wet coat. You draped it over a chair near the hearth, hoping it would dry before morning. Bucky did the same, his leather jacket and combat vest joining the makeshift drying rack. He had the luxury of running warm from the serum, while you were just stuck with whatever your body could muster and you were scrunching fingers and toes trying to encourage blood flow.

“Here,” he said, tossing you a blanket he’d found in the bedroom. “It’s not much, but it’ll help.”

You wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, sighing in relief as the soft fabric trapped some of the heat from the fire. “Thanks.”

Bucky settled onto the floor near the hearth, leaning back against the couch that looked to decrepit to carry any weight and stretching out his legs. He looked tired, his shoulders slumped and his head tilted back slightly. The sight tugged at your heart—he always carried so much weight, and it wasn’t just the mission that had worn him down. The fatigue that infected his soul at times came through,

“You should rest,” you said, sitting down beside him.

“I’ll rest when you do,” he replied without looking at you.

“Bucky,” you said, your tone soft but insistent. “You’re not doing either of us any favours by running yourself into the ground. Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

He finally turned to look at you, his blue eyes searching yours. “You’re freezing,” he said after a moment. “I can see it.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. “Don’t argue with me, doll. Come here.”

Before you could respond, he reached out and tugged you closer, pulling you into his side. His metal arm wrapped around your shoulders, and the warmth of his body seeped through the blanket and into your skin. You tensed for a moment, caught off guard, but then you relaxed, leaning into him.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low and rumbling in your ear.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Thanks.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the wind howling outside. Slowly, the tension in your body began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of comfort and safety.

“You know,” you said after a while, your voice quiet, “For someone who likes to come off as Mr grumpy pants, your being very sweet.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, his breath warm against your hair. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Underneath all the brooding and the grumpiness, your might actually be a softie Barnes...”

“Don’t let that get around,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of sincerity. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

You laughed softly, the sound filling the small space. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

For a moment, you thought you felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head, but before you could be sure, he shifted slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around both of you.

“Get some rest,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep you warm. Can’t have you getting sick or dying of hypothermia on me. Might have to get used to a new partner.” “Oh no, new people, the horror.” You teased back settling against him and tried to get some rest, it was going to be a long trek out in the morning. As you drifted off to sleep, cocooned in his warmth, you were sure you felt his face burry into your hair near your neck, probably just trying to get warm himself as he held you tighter. Waking up you were shaking, the cold biting in hard at your bone, Bucky wasn’t there. “B-Bucky?” “Here Doll.” Sitting up you could see in the dim light him moving the old mattress from the bedroom into the living room to cover over the window that had broken as the blizzard outside had broken the window letting the fridged air fill the room. You pulled the blanket tightly around you as he pushed it up again the widow blocking out the wind, and disappeared again the sound of wood breaking before he came in carrying the remains of a bedframe and tossed it into the fire place stocking the flame while you shivered teeth chattering violently before he rejoined you on the floor pulling up against him into his lap “Fuck your freezing Doll.”

“y-y-yeah.”

Bucky pulled off his henley putting onto you for extra layers you head under his chin while he wrapped himself tightly around the fire returning heat to the room.

“I got you, alright, you’re alright.”  He ran firm hand up and down your back trying to get you warm, kissing the top of your head while your buried yourself into him your face pressed into his neck shaking. Staying like this wrapped up in him and the blanket eventually the warm and you warmed your face pressed into his neck, your body relaxing as the cold ebbed and you were now more aware of the situation. How close your mouth was to his neck, the fact he was shirtless, how hard you were breathing? “I- I think.. I’m Ok..”

You tried to move and Bucky seemingly reluctantly loosened his hold pulling away enough to look down at you while you stared up into his face, cheeks pink from the heat. “You feeling warm enough now Doll?” His voice sounded rough and thick with a feeling you didn’t want to name.

“y-yeah..” your reply coming back quiet

“Good.” His hand pushed hair back off your face, his thumb running over your bottom lip. “Had me worried there Princess..” he gaze looked down at your lips. “Sure your warm enough?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Oh just, thinking…” Bucky breath brushed over your face. “Got to be sure.” Before you knew what was happening his lips pressed into yours, it was tender but needing as his hand went into your hair his metal warm wrapping tighter holding you to him. Your little moan coming back dying on his tongue as it slide into your mouth your body melting against his.   Bucky rolled you onto your back his body covering yours as his hand ran down your side and pulling off his henley from you and unzipping the front of your jumpsuit his hand sliding inside the fabric while his hips ground into the side of your hip. “Doll you have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.”   Bucky growled his mouth leaving yours to move down you neck while he pulled the suit down past your waist your hips rolling back into his. “Thought about this perfect little body of yours.” “Buck.” Your voice didn’t even sound like yours, as it got higher his hand pulling the suit down past your hips and down your thighs and off as he marked up your neck.

“You’re so perfect Doll” His hands were everywhere, your breasts, your thighs as he explored and kissed before his hand slide inside your underwear palming at your core drawing up a moan from you as your gripped his bicep, before his finger slide along wet folds. “Oh Princess, looks like I’m not the only one wanting this.” You could yeah the smug smile on his face as he pressed fingers into your clit making your whimper. “Bet I could have done this weeks ago and you’d of let me right?”

“Oh god Buck, yes.”

His fingers eased your entrance only for a moment.

“Deep breath.”  You didn’t even have a chance before he pushed two fingers into your wet heat making your arch and moan “Oh yeah, that’s it, do that for me again.” He drew his metal fingers back out and repeated the action going all the way to his knuckles. “Oh good girl. Such a good girl.” His mouth up against your ear as he nipped at your neck again your hips rocking to meet his fingers. “Oh fuck.. auh..” You felt your face body bend as he curled his fingers forward your body getting hotter as he built up more pace.

“That’s it pretty girl.” He made the world melt. “Going to make it all nice and wet and warm for me.” You arched and rocked for him as he worked your body in a way no one else had taken time too the wind howling outside mixing with the way the blood rushed in your ears.

“Wanna cum now Sweet Thing? “ He asked drawing out another whimper from you, as your got impossibly close your walls holding tightly to his fingers “Or hold it for me?”

“I- I.” You couldn’t think

“I think you should, think I deserve to hear you do I?” He picked up the pace his thumb pressing up into your clit as he worked your cunt the sounds wet desire coming from getting louder. “Come on Doll, wanna hear it, can feel you squeezing.”  His metal thumb moved in tighter circles and it was your undoing. Pleasure crashing into you as it all got to hard to hold. Calling out for him as your grabbed at his arms panting.

“ARGH!”  Your writhed on the floor bucking into his hand your walls held onto his fingers tightly before he let your body slump.

“Oh Doll, you are perfect.” He pulled his fingers from you licking off the coating you’d left on them before undoing his pants kneeling over your body watching you skin shine in the fires light as he got himself free of his denim leaning back over you. “So perfect, and all mine.” He almost sounded like an animal growling the words as he kissed backup your chest while you lay breathing hard before he lifted your leg up pressing your knee into your chest as he slid himself up along your wet slick moaning at the feel of you making your whimper again.

“Should of done this a looong time ago.” He bent forward captured your mouth in a kiss so hungry you swore he was trying to devour you. His time pushed forward and he sunk himself in half way the sensation. You felt slit open in the best way, walls forced to take him.

“mmmugh.” You noise was muffled by the kiss again as he rocked gently letting you adjust to the feeling before slowly feeding you the remaining inches of him until you felt his tip kiss up again your cervix as he went to his hilt a long moan coming from both of you.

“Bucky God.”

“Yeah, fuck you feel so good Doll better then I dreamed.” Your mind blanked, he dreamed of you? You didn’t have a chance to think to long on that before he moved and he had you soring. Long deep moves that let you know he was there, firm sure movement as he gave you all of him each time.  “So tight for me, Doll.” He made you whimper and moan each time, both of his hands touching with care despite the way his hips pressed up into you.  “It’s ok, I got you.” “Oh god nghm..” It was hard not to loose yourself in the sensation as he filled you over and over, walls pushing back against him each time, Bucky managing to find the angles that sent your reeling each time as your breathing got tighter he moved like a big cat above you all rippling muscle your leg up against his chest as your own hips thrusted back to meet his. “Oh yes Doll. Yeah, just like that, move like that for me.”

His head would go back groaning when you ground your hips into his thrusts. But you felt that familiar strong need building as the heat in your blood reached boiling point.

“Bu-Bucky, Bucky..” Your voice as tight needy and raw as your hand grabbed at his thigh.

“Yeah, fuck come for me Doll. Going to make you mine, let me watch you break.” His own voice straining as his thrust got harder and a little erratic, his own edge clearly close as he waited for you to fall, needing you to fall apart for him.

You looked up at him, eyes locked on his steely blue that looked almost feral in the fire light as he took you apart, before it all got to much at the waves of pleasure crash into you pulling you under as your back arched on the floor crying out as your nails dug into his thigh, He hammered into you harder, before crying out hot ropes coursing into you painting your insides before collapsing down over the top of you.

“Jesus Christ Doll.” He swore holding himself up over you so not to crush you, your walls still grabbing as he twitched and pulsed inside you. All you did was pant and whimper as you came down. Bucky placing a softer kiss on your forehead. “Still with me Sweet thing?”

“I, think so..” You panted out, Bucky laughing a little as he ran kissed you lightly still breathing hard himself and wrapped himself around you in the blanket.

“Definitely warm now..”  You joked slowly coming back down as he pulled out and got onto his back pulling out over onto him.

“Yeah, me too.”  

[crushpunky]

drew helps actress!reader during an interview

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based on this ask. takes place during obx3 press, mar 2023. warning: panic attack/anxiety, overly self conscious/critical, mention of sex

It was the first of many interviews the cast had planned for the week to hype up to the release of OBX3. Unlike the past two seasons of Outer Banks where press was much smaller and via Zoom, interviews for this season were much more high profile and would be done in person… which really heightened the anxious churning in y/n’s stomach.

She found herself double checking every aspect of her look, the makeup highlighting her features, the pieces of hair framing her face, the way her clothes clung to her body. It wasn’t anything too crazy, natural makeup and a simple hairstyle partnered with a simple linen top and jeans. Y/n took in deep breaths as she walked to the studio, each click of her heels against the tile echoing in her ears. As she stepped onto the set, y/n’s eyes scanned over the various cameras and lights focused on the two chairs in front of the backdrop. Sitting in one of the chairs, long legs stretched out in front of him as he chatted with one of the production assistants, was Drew. As if he could sense her presence, his head turned to look at her, his eyes raking over her body before coming back to meet her eyes with a grin.

“Hey, baby.” Drew said, pushing himself out of his chair. He rose onto his feet, smoothing his hand from her shoulder down to the small of her back as he pressed a kiss to her temple. Y/n flashed Drew a little grin before she sank into her seat. Drew sat back in his seat, his hand brushing against her arm once more before moving to rest on his armrest. Though he would’ve preferred to keep his arm perched on the back of y/n’s chair or his fingers entwined with her own, for the sake of “professionalism” (whatever that meant) he opted to keep his hands to himself.

As the two of them settled into their seats, an excited young man came in with a pile of papers.

“Hello, hello!” The man grinned, offering his hand out to Drew before moving onto y/n. As he took y/n’s hand, he pressed a kiss to the top of her hand, which brought out a surprised chuckle from y/n’s lips. She glanced over at Drew, who quirked a brow as the interviewer sat in his seat. Y/n rested her hands in her lap, straightening her back into position with practiced precision. She fidgeted with her rings, spinning the metal around mindlessly as she tried her best to relax for the interview.

“It’s great to meet you guys, this is your first real interview for Outer Banks, is that correct?” The man said, crossing his legs as he looked between the two of them.

“Uh, yeah,” Drew said, casting a glance towards y/n as he spoke. “All of our other ones have been on Zoom. It’s nice to be in the same room as the person asking the questions.”

“Much more personal, right?” The interviewer smiled, looking at y/n expectantly.

“Yeah. Much more.” Y/n said. The interviewer continued to look at y/n, waiting for her to continue. Y/n stared back at him, unsure of what to say as she gave a small, anxious chuckle.

“Well, that’s good.” The interviewer said, clearing his throat. “With that being said, what was your personal favorite scene to shoot this season?”

“Ooh, so many to choose from.” Drew said, rubbing his hands along the curve of his jaw as he thought. Y/n looked over at him, her mind trying to remember a single scene that they had shot, but the nerves coursing through her making it feel impossible. However, once scene eventually did pop in her head. Feeling a need to fill the silence, she responded.

“Um, I liked the first scene in Guadeloupe.” Y/n said, nodding.

“What about it?” Drew said gently, encouraging her to relax and give a bit more.

“Um...” Y/n trailed off, the fidgeting in her head as she tried to focus.

What are you doing?! Y/n thought, her mouth feeling dry as no words came from her lips. Answer the question! Answer! Say something!

Drew’s eyes flicked from the nervous expression on y/n’s face down to where her hands sat in her lap. Sure enough, her fingers trembled as she fidgeted with her rings and the skin of her hands. Drew knew y/n was nervous for their interviews, but now she seemed especially anxious, bordering on panicked. 

Oh my god answer you idiot! What are you doing? Y/n inhaled sharply, her stomach churning.

Without another word, Drew reached over, placing his hand atop her fidgeting hands. His touch felt like a salve to a burn, a soothing feeling helping her wandering, panicked mind return to her body. Drew brushed his thumb gently across the top of her hands, the calluses of his hands a familiar, rough comfort on her skin. Y/n’s eyes flickered over to Drew, who gave her a gentle smile. A silent, reassuring gesture.

Suddenly, she remembered the beautiful, airy bedroom they shot the scenes in Guadeloupe. The weather was perfect, the atmosphere was comfortable, and the moment was a very heartfelt one in Rafe and Caroline’s relationship.

“It was such a beautiful set and the scene was just so… romantic. It was almost picturesque, how visually stunning and touching it was as a moment in Rafe and Caroline’s relationship.” Y/n’s fingers brushed against Drew’s hand as she finished speaking with an exhale.

“It really was a beautiful yet simple scene. Just two people who obviously have a lot of love for eachother, but maybe just sort of different perceptions of what they need to do to show the other that love.” Drew nodded, his eyes watching y/n carefully. “Rafe feels like he constantly needs to prove himself to sort of keep this love, whether through like sex or money, but Caroline has a much more…”

“She has a much more ‘true’ sense, I feel.” Y/n continued. “She knows that love— especially her love— isn’t something that needs to constantly be earned or proved. She loves Rafe for who he is, she just wants him to be the best version of himself for himself, not for her. She doesn’t need all the other things, just him.”

“Wonderfully said.” The interviewer grinned, turning back to his notes. Y/n glanced over at Drew, who squeezed her hand lightly with a proud smile. His comforting, supportive presence helped to alleviate the worries coursing through her mind because, as long Drew was there with her, she would be alright.

[scarletwants]

gibson girl.

18+ notes: ethel cain is one of my favourite artists ever and this song really reminds me of homelander and how a relationship with him would actually be. summary: caught in the web of Homelander's intense charm and power, you find yourself swept up in a dark, consuming love. warnings: themes of manipulation, obsession, and dark romance. word count: 1.4k

part 1. part 2.

You’d always been a small-town girl, living in the shadow of towering skyscrapers and the omnipresent gaze of Vought International’s superheroes. Homelander was a distant figure, a god among men, his blue eyes and perfect smile plastered on every screen. You never imagined you’d catch his eye.

It started with a simple act of bravery. A bank robbery gone wrong, and you, a mere bystander, had thrown yourself into the chaos to save a child. Homelander had arrived in a blaze of glory, dispatching the criminals with effortless precision. When he looked at you, cradling the child in your arms, there was something in his gaze—a flicker of interest.

“You were very brave,” he’d said, his voice smooth and commanding. “Not many people would have done what you did.”

From that moment, your life changed. Homelander began to visit you, always unannounced, always when you were alone. His presence was overwhelming, his charm intoxicating. He made you feel special, and chosen, like you were the only person who truly mattered in his world.

“You’re different,” he’d whisper, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re not like the others.”

The more time you spent with him, the more you realized how dangerous he was. His love was all-consuming, a dark abyss that threatened to swallow you whole. He’d appear at your doorstep with gifts, flowers, anything to make you smile. But there was always a possessiveness in his gaze, a hunger that could never be sated.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself alone with him in your small apartment. However, solitude was now a foreign concept, as it didn’t take too long for Homelander to come and see his dearest.

“I could take you away from all this,” Homelander said, his eyes burning with intensity. “We could be together, always.”

“But what about your responsibilities?” you asked, your voice trembling. “The world needs you.”

“The world can fucking wait,” he replied, cupping your face in his hands. “I need you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You knew he was dangerous, that being with him meant walking a razor’s edge. But the way he looked at you like you were his salvation, made it impossible to resist.

You leaned into his touch, your lips brushing against his. “I’m yours,” you whispered, sealing your fate.

From that moment, you were caught in his web. Homelander’s love was a prison, gilded and beautiful, but a prison nonetheless. He watched over you, and protected you, but his protection came at a cost. You were his, completely and utterly, your life entwined with his in a twisted dance of obsession and desire.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Homelander's visits became the highlight of your life, a mix of excitement and dread. He would arrive unannounced, his presence filling your small apartment with an electric energy. He brought you gifts, each one more extravagant than the last. Jewellery that sparkled like his eyes, dresses that hugged your curves just right, and once, even a small, fluffy puppy that he said reminded him of you.

But with each gift came a reminder of his power. He would tell you stories of his exploits, the people he saved, and the enemies he destroyed. There was a darkness in his tales, a ruthless efficiency that sent chills down your spine. You knew he was capable of great violence, and that knowledge made his affection both thrilling and terrifying.

“You’re my hero,” he would say, his voice a soft purr as he held you close. “You saved that child, and you saved me. You’re the only one who understands me.”

You tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, going to work, and seeing friends, but it was difficult. Homelander's presence loomed over every aspect of your life. You stopped going out as much, afraid of missing his visits. Your friends noticed the change, and you could see the concern in their eyes, but what could you tell them? That you were in a relationship with the most powerful man in the world? That he loved you, but his love was suffocating?

One night, you decided to confront him. It was late, and he had just appeared at your door, a bouquet of roses in hand. You let him in, and as he placed the flowers on your table, you took a deep breath.

“We need to talk,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

He turned to you, his blue eyes narrowing. “About what?”

“About us,” you replied. “About what this is.”

He took a step towards you, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

“This… relationship,” you said, struggling to find the right words. “It’s… it’s too much. I feel like I’m losing myself.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you feared you had made a terrible mistake. But then he sighed and took your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“I know it’s overwhelming,” he said softly. “But I love you. I need you. You’re the only thing that keeps me grounded.”

“I love you too,” you said, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “But I need space. I need to feel like I still have control over my life.”

He studied you for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. “Alright,” he said finally. “I can give you space. But don’t ever doubt how much you mean to me.”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. “Thank you.”

True to his word, Homelander gave you more space. His visits became less frequent, and you began to reclaim some of your independence. You started going out with friends again, picking up hobbies you had neglected, and for a while, things seemed to be getting better.

But even with the space, he was never far from your thoughts. You found yourself looking over your shoulder, wondering if he was watching. Sometimes, you would catch a glimpse of his figure in the distance, a reminder that he was always nearby, always watching over you.

One evening, as you were walking home from work, you felt a familiar presence. You turned to see Homelander standing a few feet away, his expression intense.

“I missed you,” he said simply.

You smiled, your heart fluttering. “I missed you too.”

He closed the distance between you in an instant, pulling you into his arms. His kiss was passionate, filled with all the emotions he struggled to express. You melted into him, your fears and doubts momentarily forgotten.

As the weeks passed, you found a new rhythm. Homelander still visited, but he respected your need for space. You began to understand him better, seeing the vulnerable man beneath the powerful exterior. He confided in you, sharing his fears and insecurities, and you realized that his love for you was genuine, if not a bit overwhelming.

But there were still moments of darkness. Times when his possessiveness would surface, and you would see the flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. You learned to navigate these moments, soothing his fears and reassuring him of your love.

You became adept at reading his moods, knowing when to give him space and when to draw him close. It was a delicate balance, but one you managed to maintain. You realized that being with Homelander meant accepting all parts of him—the hero, the lover, and the monster.

And despite everything, you loved him. You loved him with a fierceness that surprised even you. He was your hero, your protector, and the man who had stolen your heart.

In time, you found a strange kind of happiness. Your life was far from normal, but it was your life. You were no longer just a small-town girl living in the shadow of superheroes. You were Homelander’s girl, and that meant something.

It meant danger, and it meant love. It meant walking a razor’s edge every day, but you were willing to do it. Because in the end, you had made your choice.

And as you stood by Homelander’s side, his arm around your waist, you knew that you had become an actual Gibson girl—beautiful, desired, and forever trapped in the arms of a man who could destroy the world with a single thought.

[hanniescookie]

home - yjh

pairing - jeonghan x f!reader

genre/warnings - established relationship, fluff, romance, hurt/comfort, skinship, use of petnames, soft hannie hours cus i miss him sm and he's so comforting

summary - the sight of jeonghan fixes all the mess in your day.

wc - 753

A/N - i had an extremely rough day, and just the thought of jeonghan brought a smile to my face so i had to do something about it hehe ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡ @starstrawb here's hannie for you, i know i said weekend but i have been extremely busy!! hope you like this 🤍

| @maestro-net

You breathe a sigh of relief, dropping your head onto the steering wheel after finally squeezing into your parking spot. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, the exhaustion of the day pressing you further into the seat.

Dragging yourself up the elevator is a task in itself, but you manage to somehow step into the familiarity of your apartment with a burning headache. All you can think about is hitting your bed and closing your eyes, but you're scared sleep won't find you as usual.

You kick your heels off and your head cranes up to the beautiful sight in front of you — the sight that makes a smile bloom on your face involuntarily.

Yoon Jeonghan is your home.

It's a realization that dawns upon you while watching him build some Lego sets in your living room.

You make it out to be a large castle he's making and your mind replays his words from yesterday when this set arrived.

“I'll build you a palace prettier than myself.”

Your heart fills with insurmountable love for him — the kind of emotion that claws at your heart and makes it bleed out tears.

The soft click-clack of the Lego bricks is almost like a soothing melody, melting the ghost of chaos looming over your head. Just watching his hands move, so careful and precise as he snaps each piece into place, feels like watching a tiny world come together. The way his brow furrow in concentration, the occasional hum under his breath – these small, ordinary things make your smile grow fond.

He isn't doing anything grand, just building. But in that simple act, there is a quiet comfort that seeps into the exhaustion clinging to you.

The warm glow of the lamp beside him catches the curve of his cheek, highlighting the gentle slope of his nose. Even his silence feels comforting, as if just watching him is enough to provide you comfort.

He tilts his head, his lips forming a soft 'o' as he considers the next piece. A stray strand of hair falls across his forehead, and without thinking, you want to reach out and brush it away. Involuntarily, the tension in your shoulders eases, the pounding in your head softening.

“Angel?”

You hear him, and your eyes meet his concerned ones from afar. He's standing up and walking over to you in no time, smiling softly.

“I didn't even notice you,” he mutters, holding your face in his hands, and wiping the wetness under your eyes. You hadn't even noticed that you'd been crying.

His arms wrap around you easily, lulling you into his warm embrace that feels insanely comforting. There are no questions asked, just a gentle hold that speaks volumes. You let your guard down, allowing yourself to melt into his warmth, the tension in your body slowly melting away. The stress of the day, the frustration, the tears you held back – it all begins to unravel in the safety of his arms. You breathe in deeply, feeling the calm wash over you, and let out a shuddering sigh.

“Hannie.”

He hums, craning his neck to look at you with a reassuring smile. “Hard day?”

You bite your lip to not cry more, your heart swelling with love for this man who just exists and brings comfort to you. He chuckles fondly, caressing the side of your head, “Aww, my baby.”

“It's alright,” he presses a lingering kiss on your temple, holding you closer in a hold that feels delicate and reassuring. “I'm here. You know I'm here, right?”

You nod, sniffing and punching him with a weak fist. “That's exactly why I'm crying. You're so… so…”

He giggles, squishing your face in his hands like he's amused and fond at the same time. “So whaaaat?”

“So comforting!” You cry, fisting on his shirt tightly like you're scared he'd disappear. “Just— you know I had the worst day ever! But seeing you, just seeing you Jeonghan, made me smile. It's so annoying!”

He laughs softly, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pulls you into a gentle rock, his warm neck touching your skin. If anything, Jeonghan is amused (and flustered, but that's something he won't show).

“You're soooo whipped for me,” he sings with a teasing edge to his voice. You grumble, but shift closer in his embrace, too tired to fight anything. Besides, he's not wrong. You are whipped for him.

How could you not be when his simple existence lights up your life like nothing else?

[buldakcorn]

In Your Embrace

LOONA/ARTMS Haseul x Male Reader

Genre: Mommy kink, Slightly Dom!Haseul, Sub!Reader

1426 words

The door to the bedroom clicks softly shut as Haseul leads you inside, her eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and mischief. She takes a step closer, her hand sliding up to your cheek with a gentle yet firm touch.

"Take off your clothes, baby," she whispers, her voice a seductive purr that sends a shiver down your spine. You obey, heart racing as you undo each button of your shirt, her gaze never leaving yours. Each article of clothing that hits the floor feels like a barrier dissolving between you and the woman who now stands before you, dressed in nothing but a lacy black lingerie that clings to her curves like a second skin. "Good boy," she coos, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she watches you expose yourself to her. "Now, come to Mommy."

As you approach the bed, your eyes are drawn to the way the dim lighting casts shadows over her body, highlighting the peaks and valleys of her voluptuous form. Haseul reaches out, her fingers tracing a path down your chest until they find the waistband of your pants. With a deft flick of her wrist, she unbuckles your belt and unzips them, letting them fall to the floor. You step out of them, feeling a sense of vulnerability mixed with excitement as you stand before her in nothing but your underwear. She gently tugs at the elastic band, her eyes locked with yours, and you can almost feel the heat emanating from her body.

"Let Mommy see all of you," she instructs, her voice velvety and authoritative. You slip off your last piece of clothing, standing bare before the woman you've come to crave. Haseul's eyes sweep over you appreciatively, her breath hitching just a little as she takes in the sight of your naked form. "You're so hot like this," she murmurs, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Now, climb into bed, baby. It's time for Mommy to take care of you." You comply, your heart thudding in your chest as you slip beneath the cool sheets, feeling them caress your skin as you await her next move.

With a maternal yet undeniably sexual grace, Haseul joins you in the bed, her body gliding over the sheets like a shadow. She straddles you, her thighs pressing against your hips, the heat of her sex radiating through the fabric of her lingerie and your skin. Her eyes are dark with want as she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, letting it fall away to reveal her ample breasts, the nipples hardened with anticipation. Leaning in while holding her bosom, she is able to take one into her mouth, rolling it gently with her tongue before pulling away with a wet pop, leaving it glistening.

"Mommy's going to make all your naughty thoughts go away," she promises, her voice a low growl that sends a jolt of arousal straight to your core. Her hand finds its way to your erect cock, stroking it slowly, watching your reaction with a hunger that matches yours. She smiles, knowing she has you right where she wants you.

"But first, you need to tell Mommy what you want." she whispers, her breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"What do you need from me?" she asks, her tone a siren's call, demanding yet soothing. You swallow hard, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can think twice.

"Mommy, I need you to touch me," you confess, your voice trembling. Her smile widens, and she leans in closer, her breasts brushing against your chest as she whispers, "Then Mommy will, baby." With a gentle squeeze, she begins to stroke you in earnest, her thumb circling the head of your cock as you arch up into her touch, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Mm, Mommy's good boy," she praises, her movements becoming more deliberate and precise with each passing moment, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Feeling the warmth of her skin against yours, you can't help but moan softly as Haseul's hand continues to work its magic. Her touch is firm yet tender, each stroke a testament to her desire to satisfy your deepest, darkest cravings. You can't believe the reality of the moment, the woman you've fantasized about for so long now calling you her baby, her good boy, as she brings you closer and closer to the brink of climax. Your eyes drift shut, the sensations overwhelming as you give in to the heady feeling of her control. But she's not done yet. With a soft chuckle, she leans in closer, her breasts pressing into your chest as she kisses you, her tongue delving deep into your mouth, claiming you as hers. Her other hand reaches down to slip aside the scrap of fabric covering her panties, her slickness coating your thighs as she grinds against you. You feel her heat, her need, and it only serves to drive you wilder.

"Mommy wants to feel all of you, baby," she murmurs against your lips, her voice thick with desire. "Can I take these off?" she asks, her eyes searching yours for permission. You nod eagerly, and she stands, peeling the last of her clothing away to reveal her naked form, every inch of her skin begging to be touched.

She slides back onto the bed, her legs parting as she positions herself over you, her wetness coating your cock as she sinks down, taking you inch by inch until she's fully seated. You both gasp as she starts to rock her hips, setting a rhythm that feels like a sweet, sinful symphony. "Mommy's got you," she whispers, her eyes never leaving yours as she moves above you, her breasts bouncing gently with each motion. The maternal yet erotic power exchange has you on the edge, your hands reaching up to clutch at her hips as she rides you, her pace increasing as your moans grow louder. The room is filled with the slick sounds of skin meeting skin, the scent of arousal heavy in the air as you both chase the ultimate release, the one only she can give you.

"Mm, are you enjoying this, baby?" Haseul purrs, her voice thick with desire as she continues to rock her hips, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she watches your reaction. You nod, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure builds within you, a testament to her skilled ministrations.

"That's right," she murmurs, her hand reaching down to squeeze your cock as she rides you.

"Tell Mommy how good it feels."

You manage to choke out a "Yes, you feel so tight around me Mommy," the words feeling strange yet oddly natural on your lips as she continues to fuck you, her movements growing more erratic as her own climax nears. Her nails dig into your skin, leaving a trail of fire that only fuels your desire for more.

"You're such a good boy for Mommy," she praises, her voice breathy and filled with lust. "Now, cum for Mommy," she commands, her movements becoming frenzied as she pushes you closer to the edge. "Cum deep inside me," she whispers, her breath hot against your ear. The filthy talk sends you spiraling over the edge, your body tensing as you release, the warmth of your climax filling her as she cries out, her own orgasm crashing over her. She collapses onto you, her breath ragged as she nuzzles against your neck, her body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

"Mm, Mommy's so proud of you," she coos, her voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the room. For a moment, you just lay there, basking in the glow of her praise, feeling more connected to her than ever before as she whispers sweet nothings in your ear, her heartbeat syncing with yours as your breathing gradually returns to normal. The room is filled with the sound of your mingled sighs, the air charged with a sense of intimacy that goes beyond the physical act you've just shared. This isn't just about sex; it's about power, trust, and the deepest desires of your soul laid bare before the woman who holds them in the palm of her hand. And as she kisses you softly, you know that she'll be there to catch you every time you fall, to cradle you in her arms and whisper sweet, dirty nothings that set your world on fire.

[keithyp00]

Greedy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warning/Tags: fluff, slow-burn, implied hurt/comfort, self-discovery, mentions of past trauma, kissing

Song Inspiration: Greedy by Ariana Grande (only a little though)

Word Count: 1,322

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

The flickering candlelight danced across Bucky's sharp features, highlighting the faint lines etched around his eyes- a testament to a life lived on the edge. He sat across from you, a half-empty glass of whiskey sweating on the worn wooden table between you. The air hung heavy with unspoken words and the scent of old books and something uniquely Bucky- a blend of leather, metal, and that faint hint of woodsmoke that always clung to him. You'd known him for years, yet the mystery surrounding him remained as captivating as ever.

He watched you- his gaze intense- as you traced the rim of your own glass, the smooth glass cool under your calloused fingertips. The silence stretched, comfortable yet charged with an unspoken tension between the two of you. It was the kind of silence that whispered promises and hinted at desires neither of you dared to voice.

"You're quiet tonight," he finally murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. He reached across the table, his metal fingers brushing lightly against your own ones, metal meeting flushed skin. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through you, a familiar sensation that never failed to ignite a spark in your chest.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. "Just thinking," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. You weren't just thinking; you were wrestling with the complexities of your feelings for him- feelings that had grown so steadily, quietly, like a creeping vine that you never gave permission to grow.

Bucky was everything you weren't- reckless, unpredictable, haunted by a past he couldn't outrun. Yet, it was precisely those qualities that drew you to him in the first place that made him so irresistibly alluring. His darkness was like a magnet, pulling you closer even as a part of you screamed at you to run before you got stuck.

He leaned closer, his breath like a warm ghost over your skin. "Thinking about what?" He asked, his voice laced with a hint of playful challenge.

You hesitated, unsure how to articulate the tangled mess of emotions swirling within you. It wasn't just the physical attraction, though that was undeniable. It was the way he made you feel- seen, understood, cherished in a way no one you've ever met in the past had. It was the way he made you feel... greedy.

For his touch, his time, his attention. For every stolen moment together, every shared glance, every whispered secret. For a love that felt both dangerous and exquisitely right.

"Thinking about...us," you finally managed to say, the words escaping your lips like a quiet sigh, one that was meant truly just for you. The confession hung in the air, fragile and vulnerable.

Bucky's expression softened, his gaze filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. He gently took your hand in his, his touch both reassuring and electrifying. "Us," he repeated, the word tasting like an unspoken promise on his tongue.

He leaned in, his lips brushed against your in a feather-light kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes- of shared secrets, unspoken desires and a love that defied logic and reason. It was a kiss that tasted of whiskey and danger and something deeply, profoundly satisfying.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. His arms wrapped around you, anchoring himself on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. You felt the warmth of his skin against yours, the steady beat of his heart mirroring the frantic rhythm of your own.

For a moment, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of passion and longing. It was a moment suspended in time, a perfect, stolen fragment of eternity.

When the kiss finally broke, you were breathless, your senses reeling. Bucky's eyes were dark and intense, reflecting the fire that burned between you.

"I've been eager for you for a long time," he confessed, his voice husky with emotion. "For your smile, your laughter, for every moment I can spend with you."

You leaned your forehead against his, your heart overflowing with a love that felt both terrifying and exhilarating. "And I have been for you too," you whispered, your voice quiet but thick with emotion. "For your touch, for your strength, for your love."

He smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes and warmed your soul. It was a smile that promised a future filled with shared adventures, stolen moments, and a love that would endure, even in the face of darkness and uncertainty.

As the candlelight flickered, casting long shadows across the room, you knew that your journey with Bucky would be anything but ordinary. It would be a journey filled with challenges and uncertainty, but would also be one filled with a love so intense, so consuming, that it would make you both irrevocably greedy for more.

______________________________________________________________

The months that followed were a testament to the power of rediscovery. The whirlwind of extravagance had settled, replaced by a calm comforting rhythm of shared moments together.

You explored quiet corners of the city, hand-in-hand, discovering hidden cafes and bookstores, places where the noise of the outside world faded into a gentle hum. Bucky, ever the protector, found solace in these simpler moments, his guarded heart slowly unfurling like a delicate flower in the spring. He found joy in the mundane- the shared laughter over a silly movie, the quiet comfort of a shared cup of coffee, the warmth of your intertwined bodies on a cold winter's night. And you, in turn, found a deeper appreciation for the things you had almost lost sight of- the genuine connection, the unwavering support, the quiet strength from his love alone.

One evening, as you sat on the roof of your apartment building, watching the city lights twinkle below you, Bucky turned, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart soar. The city noise was a distant murmur, your little world enclosed in a bubble of quiet intimacy. He took your hand, intertwining your fingers together, a familiar comfort that always sent a welcome shiver down your spine.

"I never thought I'd find happiness in the quiet moments," he confessed, his voice low and husky. "But with you... it's different. It's... perfect."

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of joy and relief. You had almost lost sight of the true treasure, the genuine love that lay beneath the surface of that glittering facade you both tended to put on in front of others. You had been greedy for the superficial, for the fleeting thrill of extravagance, but Bucky had shown you the power of having a simple, honest life.

"Me neither," you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. "I was so busy chasing the spotlight, I almost missed the most important thing- you."

He pulled you closer, his embrace warm and comforting. "Don't ever forget that," he murmured, his lips brushing a light kiss into your hair. "You're my everything."

And as you sat there, under the vast expanse of the night sky, you knew that your love story was far from over. It was a story that was constantly evolving, a story of growth, of rediscovery, of a love that transcended the superficial and embraced the true essence of being together. It was a love that was- in its own way- still a little greedy. Greedy for more moments, more laughter, more shared experiences, more of the simple, quiet perfection you had found in each other. The city lights continued to twinkle below, a silent testament to the vibrant, ever-evolving tapestry of your love.

The greed for more wasn't about material things anymore; it was about a deeper, more profound desire- a hunger for a love that would continue to endure, a love that would continue to grow and flourish, a love that would always be yours.

[satori-runa]

—Morning comes in silence

Summary: You spend the morning in bed with your husband at your side, watching over him as he rests peacefully for the first time in ages.

Tags: Romance, Hinted sexual content but no specific graphical explanations, established relationship, fluff

Words: 0,6k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Gente rays of orange sunlight shimmered through the forst-covered windows in the early morning hours, followed by the graceful fresh snow that carried a familiar cold breeze through the land. Yet, none of that chill reached the comfort of the bedroom that you shared with your husband.

Only the soft, sun-kissed glow filtered in, casting a golden warmth over everything, draping the comfort of your home into a pure teint of liquid gold. It especially highlighted the fine features of the man lying beside you in the huge bed. The white silk sheets pooled around his large form, shared between the two of you. And you could swear, his body could be a canvas painted by the purity of the morning light and the feelings that carried over from the night before.

Capitano was truly a man of many things, status, wealth and power. He could command the word with a singe motion if he desired so and yet here he lay, stripped of the weight of his title, exposed and vunerable under the tender caress of your warm fingertips. Your thumb traced his sharp jawline, brushing over the dryness of his lips, then wound through the smooth raven locks that you had toyed with so many times before. The sensation was familiar, comforting, like a safe haven that you shared in a world full of coldness.

Your cold feet brushed against his leg beneath the sheets, a subconscious search for the warmth and connection that still lingered from the night before. His body twitched at the cool touch, a small reaction to the memory of the heat you’d shared in the dark, but he made no effort to pull away. Instead, he shifted slightly, allowing the space between you to close, his warmth enveloping you as naturally as the sunrise.

No words passed between you, nor were they needed. In the quiet of this sacred morning, your gazes spoke volumes. You remembered how the night began—the way his cold, sharp gloves were the first to fall. He had always hidden his hands, guarded them from the world, but last night, he let them be seen, exposed to your eyes alone. His skin, tinted with that strange, mysterious blue, revealed more than just his body. At first, he hesitated, insecurity flashing in his eyes, but those fears had melted away with the softness of your lips, pressing gentle promises into his skin. You had kissed away the doubts, each touch a vow that you’d never judge him for what he was, for how he looked. All you needed was him, the man beneath the surface.

And he had given that promise back to you, wordlessly. His lips had remained silent, but his hands spoke. They had traced your skin with a slowness that bordered on torment, fingers gliding over your legs, up your thighs, drawing out your impatience with teasing precision. The way he touched you, the way he worshipped you with his hands, was his answer—a declaration that you were everything to him.

Now, in the glow of dawn, those hands rested between the folds of the sheets, still close to you, as if even in sleep he couldn’t bear to be far from your warmth. His raven hair spilled over the pillow, shadows and light playing over his face, making him look softer, almost innocent in the early morning light. You smiled faintly, brushing a stray lock from his brow, recalling how those same locks had been tangled in your fingers the night before, how his breath had hitched against your neck when your cold hands had explored the softness of his skin.

There was a serenity in the room now, a sense of peace that wrapped around you both. The world outside didn’t matter. Status, power, wealth—they were distant, meaningless in this moment. All that existed was the warmth of his body beside yours, the sheets that clung to your limbs, and the silent affection you shared.