#A DAY LATE BUT ITS HERE 🫶 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jkwrites-m · 2 months ago

Text

Daddy Kookie (1)

Pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: childhood lovers to exes to lovers, parents au, idol au, smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 8.9k

Summary: After Jungkook dropped all contact, Y/N was left broken - and pregnant. Seven years later, fate brings them back together.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, smut, angst, abandonment, ghosting, young (teenage) pregnancy, mention of parental death, mention of absent parent, brief homelessness, shelters, unintentional parental neglect, resentment, anger, fighting, arguments, jk is an ass, depression, betrayal, heartbreak, cursing, struggle,, explicit: PRAISING, kissing, missionary, oral (f. & m. receiving), breastplay, unprotected sex

Note: remember! bold is jk’s pov - regular text is y/n’s

A/N: happy father’s day! here’s part 1 of Daddy Kookie! i love this fic and hopefully you do too! part 1 was originally 15k but apparantly i hit a limit 🙄 enjoy! 🫶

MASTERPOST ♡ MASTERLIST ♡

♡ Ghosts Can’t Be Dads ♡ Make Our Own Music ♡ next

═══════

The summer air was thick, like it always was in late July. Sticky and slow, like time itself didn’t want to move. I sat on the old swing at the edge of the neighborhood park, the rusting chains and wood chips always got stuck in my sandals. My fingers twisted the hem of my dress, over and over, and I tried not to check my phone again.

But I did.

He was late.

Again.

Kookie: omw. don’t cry just yet lol

Y/N: shut up

Kookie: make me 😏

I rolled my eyes and bit back a smile, but my chest ached anyway.

This was the last night.

The last night before everything changed.

I heard his footsteps before I saw him. His sneakers slapping pavement, short breaths from running too hard. When I looked up, there he was. Jeon Jungkook, all sweat-damp hair and crooked grin, black T-shirt clinging to his chest, backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder.

“Y/N!”

“You’re late,” I called out.

“I’m never late,” he panted, bending slightly as he reached me. “The world just hasn’t caught up with me yet.”

“You mean you stopped for bubble tea.”

He held out the cup proudly. “Mango with weird tapioca things. Just how you like it. Don’t say I don’t love you.”

God.

Love.

That word hit differently when you knew it might be the last time you’d hear it.

“I don’t need bubble tea to know that,” I murmured, fingers brushing his as I took it.

He smiled that soft, boyish smile- the one that had ruined me since I was thirteen.

“Come on. Let’s walk.”

═══════

We walked past all our usual places. The school where we shared our first kiss behind the gym building, the corner store that stayed open late just for us, the alley where he told me he wanted to be more than just another small-town kid.

The whole world felt like it was holding its breath.

“You packed everything?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He didn’t look at me. “Manager-hyung’s picking me up at 7 tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

“I still can’t believe it,” I whispered.

He glanced at me. “I know.”

“You’re really leaving.”

“I am.”

My throat burned. “What if… what if we don’t make it?”

His steps faltered, just for a second. “What?”

“What if Seoul changes you?” I stopped walking. “What if you forget about me?”

He turned to face me, forehead creasing. “Y/N…”

I hated how my voice trembled. “It happens, Jungkook. People grow apart. You’re gonna be around beautiful idols and trainees and fans, and I’ll just be here.”

“You won’t be just anything,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re everything to me.”

I wanted so badly to believe that.

“But what if-”

“I won’t forget you,” he cut in. “I couldn’t.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I’m promising it anyway.”

His arms wrapped around me. He always smelled like detergent and skin and something warm, something that felt like home. I buried my face in his chest, trying to freeze time. I didn’t want the night to end. I didn’t want this part of my life to end.

“I’m scared,” I admitted into his shirt.

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

He pulled back just enough to look at me. “Because you’re mine. And no matter where I go, you’re still gonna be mine. Okay?”

I nodded, even though I didn’t really believe it.

“Come with me,” he said. “Someday. I’ll bring you out. You’ll see. We’ll be together again.”

I looked up at him. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

We didn’t go home after that.

Instead, he led me across town, through the short forest trail that led to the old abandoned greenhouse- the place we used to run to when we skipped class or fought with our parents or just wanted to disappear for a while. The glass was broken in places, the air smelled like earth, and the moonlight poured in through the jagged skylight above us.

He laid down the blanket. I took off my shoes. We said everything with our eyes before our mouths could catch up.

It happened slowly.

His hands on my skin like he was learning me all over again. My lips on his jaw, his throat, the space between his ribs where he always twitched when I kissed him. We undressed like we were unraveling something sacred. We moved like we had forever, even though we both knew better.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against my collarbone. “You don’t even know.”

I tried to memorize the weight of his words. The way he said my name, like it was his favorite song. I kissed him like he was the only boy I’d ever love.

Without breaking our embrace, I shifted, my hands moving to the waistband of his jeans. His breath hitched as I undid the button, my fingers brushing against the warm skin of his lower abdomen.

The "Y/N," he groaned, his voice a mix of pleasure and surrender. I looked up at him, my eyes sparkling with mischief, and he chuckled softly, his hands tangling in my hair.

"You’re going to be the death of me," he teased, but there was no real complaint in his tone.

I didn’t respond, instead sliding down his body, my lips trailing kisses along the way. His chest, his stomach, the trail of hair that led downward- I savored every inch of him, my touch deliberate and worshipful.

When I reached the hem of his boxers, I paused, looking up at him through my lashes. His eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"You look so good," I murmured, my fingers hooking into the elastic band.

He nodded, his throat working as he swallowed hard. I pulled them down slowly, revealing his thick, hard length. My mouth watered at the sight, and I leaned in, my tongue flicking over the tip.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his hands gripping the blanket tightly.

I smiled against his skin, my lips wrapping around him, my tongue swirling and teasing. He tasted like salt and desire, and I moaned softly, the sound vibrating against him. His hands moved to my hair, guiding me gently, his praise washing over me like a wave.

"You’re incredible," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "So fucking beautiful."

I hummed in response, my mouth moving slower, deeper, my hands cradling his balls. His hips twitched, and he let out a sharp breath, his body tensing.

"Baby, I- I don’t want to come yet," he managed, his voice strained. I pulled back slightly, my lips brushing against his sensitive skin.

With a gentle push, he flipped me onto my back, his eyes never leaving mine. His hands moved to my waist, sliding up to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. I arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips.

"You’re so perfect," he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck, my collarbone, his kisses leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His hands moved lower, his fingers traced the lace of my panties, his touch feather-light, before slipping beneath the fabric. I gasped as he found my core, already wet and throbbing with need.

"You’re so ready for me," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

His fingers dipped inside me, slow and deliberate, his thumb pressing against my clit. I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand, my body already on the edge.

"Jungkook, please," I begged, my voice desperate.

He chuckled softly, his lips moving lower, kissing down my stomach, his beard scratching my skin in the most delightful way.

"Impatient, aren’t we?" he teased, his breath ghosting over my sensitive flesh.

Before I could respond, his mouth was on me, his tongue pressing into my cunt, his fingers still moving inside me. I cried out, my hands tangling in his hair, my body arching off the blanket. He ate me out with a slow, deliberate rhythm, his tongue firm and insistent, his mouth devouring me. My breath came in short gasps, my body tightening as pleasure coiled low in my belly.

"Jungkook, I’m close," I panted, my voice shaky.

"Come for me, baby," he urged, his voice muffled against my skin. "Let me feel you fall apart."

His words sent me over the edge. My body shook as my orgasm ripped through me, my cries echoing in the greenhouse. He drank me in, his mouth relentless, his fingers still moving, milking every last drop of pleasure from me. When I finally came down, I was trembling, my body boneless and sated.

He looked up at me, his eyes dark with love and desire, his lips swollen from his efforts.

"You’re so fucking beautiful when you come," he murmured, climbing up to hover over me.

His eyes held mine, his expression intense, as he positioned himself at my entrance.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "So much."

I reached up, cupping his face, my thumb brushing over his cheek. "I love you too," I replied, my voice soft but steady.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he slid inside me, filling me completely. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders, my body welcoming him like a missing piece. He moved with a rhythm that was both tender and urgent, his hips rocking into mine, his breath coming in short gasps.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead pressing against mine. "So fucking perfect."

I wrapped my legs around his waist, my heels digging into his back, urging him deeper. His hands moved to my hips, guiding our movements, his thrusts becoming more insistent. The blanket rustled beneath us, the only sound in the greenhouse aside from our ragged breaths and soft moans.

"Jungkook," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I’m close again."

"Me too," he admitted, his voice strained. "But I want to last, want to feel you come apart again."

His words sent a fresh wave of desire through me. I tightened around him, my body clenching, and he groaned, his pace quickening.

"Fuck, baby, you’re going to make me lose it," he warned, his voice a rough whisper.

"Then lose it with me," I urged, my hands gripping his shoulders. "Together."

His thrusts became frantic, his body pouring into mine, his breath coming in sharp gasps. I met him with equal urgency, my hips rising to meet his, our bodies moving in perfect sync. The world narrowed to just the two of us, our hearts pounding, our breaths mingling, our bodies intertwined.

"Y/N," he groaned, his voice breaking. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

His words were my undoing. My body shattered around him, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave, my cries filling the greenhouse. He followed soon after, his hips stuttering, his body tensing as he came, his seed spilling deep inside me.

"Baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse, his forehead pressing against mine. "I love you."

Afterwards, we just lay there, tangled together, breathing like we were still trying to catch up with what we’d done. I rested my hand over his heart and closed my eyes.

“I want this to last,” I whispered.

“It will.”

“You can’t promise that either.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I’ll try.”

═══════

The sun came up too soon.

And the goodbye was worse than anything I imagined.

We stood at the train station platform, my fingers gripping his tightly like maybe I could anchor him here if I just held on hard enough.

His manager honked from the van. He glanced back, and I knew this was it.

“I’ll text you tonight,” he said. “And every night after that. Until you’re with me again.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.”

The kiss was desperate. Rough. Shaky. Everything we didn’t say poured into it.

Then he was walking away.

And I was standing alone with warm tears streaking down my cheeks, mango bubble tea now melting in my hand, watching the boy I’d loved since middle school disappear into a dream that didn’t have room for me.

═══════

The first few days weren’t so bad.

He texted me every night, just like he promised.

Kookie: made it safe. dorm is small but nice. i miss you already. ❤️

Kookie: long practice today. i thought about you the whole time.❤️

Kookie: you’d laugh at how sore my legs are rn lol.

I’d fall asleep with my phone pressed to my chest, rereading his words until my eyes burned. I’d replay our last night together on a loop- his breath, his voice, his promises. I believed them. I really did.

But by the third week… something changed.

The texts started coming later. Sometimes not at all. I’d wake up to a half-hearted reply.

Kookie: sorry long day love you

No punctuation. No emojis. No “good night” kisses made of letters.

The first time I called him, it rang until voicemail. I remember pacing my bedroom, eyes fixed on the screen like maybe I could will it to light up with his face. Maybe I could make his voice come back through sheer force of want.

It didn’t.

I left a message.

Then another one.

And another.

By the fifth one, I just hung up without saying anything. My voice felt stupid anyway. Useless.

“I’m just tired,” he told me when I finally got a hold of him. “Training’s intense, no breaks, you know how it is.”

I nodded like I understood, but I didn’t. How could I?

“You still think about me?” I whispered.

“Of course,” he said, but his voice didn’t smile like it used to. “I just… I gotta focus right now. It’s only temporary, okay?”

Temporary.

That word haunted me.

═══════

Two months passed, and I could feel him slipping further and further away, like trying to hold onto water with my bare hands. Every time I reached, there was less of him.

And then…

He disappeared completely.

No texts. No calls. His name grayed out on my phone like a ghost I wasn’t allowed to summon anymore. I tried finding him on Instagram. Nothing. I tried calling again- straight to voicemail. I stared at my screen, at the message that wouldn’t deliver.

Blocked.

He blocked me.

I don’t remember the exact moment I realized it. I just remember dropping my phone onto the carpet and staring at it like it had betrayed me. Like he had reached out of it and slammed a door in my face.

It didn’t feel real.

I sat there on the floor for what felt like hours. My chest was tight, my throat raw from screaming into the silence of my room. My mom had died the year before, and my dad was never in the picture. I didn’t have anyone to run to, no one to sit me down and tell me it would be okay. No one to curse him out for me. I was just a girl. Alone. Heartbroken.

I wanted to hate him.

I tried to.

But I loved him more than I hated what he was doing to me.

And then, as if the universe hadn’t already chewed me up enough…

I noticed I missed my period.

Twice.

At first, I blamed the stress. The sleepless nights. The crying. The nothingness.

But deep down, I knew.

I bought the test alone. Shoved it into the bottom of my bag like it was a weapon I wasn’t ready to use. I waited until I was home, shaking hands and knees pressed to the bathroom tiles.

I cried the second the result showed.

Two pink lines.

Positive.

Pregnant.

Eighteen years old.

No family.

No boyfriend.

No plan.

I curled up on the bathroom floor, my arms wrapped around my stomach, and I sobbed until I felt sick. I kept whispering his name, like maybe he’d walk through the door and tell me it was a mistake, that he was still here, that we were still “we.”

I didn’t even know who he was anymore.

Still… I tried.

I called him one last time. I held the phone so tight my fingers went numb. It rang once. Twice. Then-

This number is unavailable.

I texted him again, even though I knew it was useless.

Y/N: please. I need to talk to you. this is important.

Not delivered.

I switched apps. Tried emailing. Messaging. Searching his schedule online. I was grasping at digital smoke.

I had no one left.

Even his parents never liked me. They were polite to my face, but always made it clear Jungkook had bigger things ahead. “You’re young,” his mom had once told me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Don’t hold him back.”

I never wanted to.

I just wanted to stand beside him while he flew.

Instead, I was falling, alone.

I packed what little I had. Took a bus to the airport. I didn’t even leave a note behind. There was nothing left to say. Nothing left to hold onto. Nobody to even tell. Just me… and this tiny, silent thing growing inside of me.

My baby.

Our baby.

I didn’t know their name yet. I didn’t know anything. But I made a promise that night, curled up on a stained mattress in a cheap airport hotel far from everything I’d ever known:

I would protect them.

I would never let them feel like I did.

Unwanted.

Forgotten.

Blocked.

═══════

I arrived in the new city with a duffel bag, two hundred and twelve dollars, and a baby growing inside of me, 6,000 miles away from home.

No plan. No apartment. No friends.

I stepped off the bus into the kind of summer heat that clung to your skin and made your clothes stick to you like regret. My phone was nearly dead, the screen cracked at the corner from how hard I’d thrown it across a motel wall two nights ago. I didn’t care. No one was calling anyway.

I sat on a bench at the edge of the terminal, one hand pressed over my stomach like I could already feel them there.

My baby.

They didn’t have a name yet, or a nursery, or a crib. They didn’t even have a dad anymore. All they had was me- and that was the scariest part of all. I didn’t feel like enough.

The first shelter I tried was full.

The second told me I needed a referral.

The third let me in. I shared a room with four other women, one of whom cried in her sleep and muttered something about her ex hurting her. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t tell them anything about me either. It was safer that way.

At night, I curled up on the bottom bunk and held my belly, whispering things I wasn’t sure they could hear yet.

“It’s just us, okay? I’ll figure it out. I swear.”

I found a job cleaning tables at a twenty-four-hour diner two blocks from the shelter. The manager was a woman in her forties with no patience for excuses, but she handed me a uniform and didn’t ask about my belly.

“You’re not showing yet,” she said, like that was a blessing.

I kept my head down. Worked the night shift. Saved every penny.

Eventually, I found a room to rent. It was in a basement Concrete floors, mold in the corners, no real windows. The shower only had cold water and the radiator made a noise like it was coughing up ghosts.

But it was mine.

I taped a picture of the city skyline to the wall and called it home.

I went to free clinics. I got checkups. I downloaded baby apps that told me how big she was each week. “This week, your baby is the size of a lemon.” I started drinking more water. I learned how to cook cheap meals with frozen vegetables and rice. I worked two jobs. I stopped checking social media. Stopped googling his name. Stopped looking for his face in crowds.

I stopped crying. Mostly.

There were still nights I’d wake up gasping, hand pressed to the place where he used to be. Still dreams where I heard his voice calling my name, the way he used to when he was late and running through the park.

But I didn’t answer those dreams anymore.

I just turned over and held my stomach tighter.

Months passed like smoke. Time blurred. The city didn’t care who I was. And maybe that was good. I could be anyone here. I could rewrite my life.

By the time I was seven months pregnant, I found a tiny apartment above a corner bakery. The floor creaked with every step. The walls were too thin. But the landlady was kind and let me paint the spare room a soft pastel yellow.

“This for a little one?” she asked one day.

I hesitated, then nodded.

“She’s lucky to have you,” she said.

No one had ever said that to me before.

I cried after she left.

═══════

Eun Ae.

That was the name that came to me one morning, soft and sudden like sunlight through a dusty window. It means grace with love.

She would be both.

The last month of pregnancy was the hardest. I didn’t have anyone to hold my hand. No baby shower. No prenatal classes. Just me, standing in line at a dollar store, buying diapers and bottles and a secondhand crib I found online.

I gave birth alone.

The nurse held my hand. She told me I was strong. That I was doing great. That my daughter was beautiful.

And she was.

God, she was.

Tiny, red-faced, wailing like she’d been waiting her whole life to meet me. When they laid her on my chest, I couldn’t stop crying. I whispered her name over and over, like maybe that would make it real.

“Eun Ae,” I said. “My Eun Ae.”

She looked nothing like me.

She had his eyes. His mouth. His hair.

She looked like every part of me that still wanted to believe in love and every part of me that remembered how much it hurt.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead and made another promise.

“You’ll never have to beg anyone to stay.”

═══════

The first night home with Eun Ae, I didn’t sleep at all.

She screamed the way newborns do- without rhythm, without reason, as if her tiny lungs couldn’t believe they were real. I sat in the corner of the room on a second-hand rocking chair, blinking through exhaustion and cradling her in my arms. My entire body ached. My stitches throbbed. My back felt broken.

But I rocked her anyway.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Over and over, whispering songs I only half-remembered from childhood. She didn’t care. She just needed a heartbeat.

I gave her mine.

The first few weeks were chaos.

Feeding every two hours. Diapers like clockwork. Sleepless nights. Leaking milk. Guilt every time I thought I wasn’t doing enough. Or worse- when I wondered if I’d made a mistake.

But then she’d curl her hand around my finger.

Or smile in her sleep.

And I’d remember that none of this was her fault.

I called her “my tiny storm.” Because that’s what she was: chaotic and wild, but somehow still beautiful.

═══════

I returned to work when she was six weeks old. The bakery downstairs hired me as a morning assistant. I wore Eun Ae in a wrap across my chest while I sliced bagels and filled coffee orders. No one complained. Most people tipped me extra.

“She must look just like her daddy,” one customer said one morning.

I froze.

Smiled too hard.

Changed the subject.

The truth was, I never said his name out loud anymore.

Not even to Eun Ae.

He had vanished so thoroughly that even the word “Jungkook” felt like a spell I couldn’t afford to speak.

But he was there- in her face, her laugh, her temper. She had his eyes. Big and dark and full of questions she couldn’t ask yet. She furrowed her brow like him. Pouted like him. And when she cried, she had this broken, breathy hiccup at the end, just like the way his voice cracked when he used to tell me goodbye.

She was her father’s daughter.

Even if he’d never meet her.

═══════

By the time she turned one, we’d found a rhythm.

I was back in school part-time. Community college courses at night while she slept in a donated crib beside my desk. I studied until my eyes burned, filling notebooks with marketing notes, dreaming of someday doing more than just surviving.

I wanted to build something for her.

She deserved that.

Every birthday, I bought a cupcake and lit one candle, even when she couldn’t understand it. I sang softly and held her hand and whispered promises into the night.

I kept a photo of him in my drawer.

The last one we ever took together. He was in his hoodie, arms around me, and I looked so… happy. I barely recognized myself.

I never showed it to her.

But I couldn’t throw it away either.

Sometimes I wondered if he knew.

If he felt it.

If, somewhere on some stage with flashing lights and screaming fans, his chest ever ached the way mine did.

I didn’t hate him anymore.

I just couldn’t afford to miss him.

Six years passed.

Eun Ae was smart. So smart. She talked early, walked early, and made up songs about things like cereal and socks and the moon. She loved animals, especially tigers. She called me “Mama” with this bright, sing-song voice that made strangers smile in grocery store aisles.

And still, no one knew about him.

I kept her away from the internet. I didn’t play their music. I never watched interviews or read the headlines.

It was better that way.

Cleaner.

═══════

Until one day, while organizing an event at the university concert hall where I worked as the assistant event coordinator, my supervisor slid a folder across the desk.

“Biggest show we’ve ever booked,” she said. “This one’s yours to coordinate.”

I opened the file.

And my entire body went still.

BTS. Three nights. Sold out.

I stared at the name in big, bold letters.

And below it, the list of members.

Jeon Jungkook.

The air rushed out of my lungs.

My supervisor didn’t notice. She was already rattling off logistics and budget numbers.

“Great exposure for us,” she said. “They’ll be here for four days total- day one for setup and press, then two shows. You’ll be their point of contact. Got it?”

I nodded, because what else could I do?

“Yes,” I said.

But inside, I was unraveling.

Seven years.

It had been seven years since he looked at me and said I was his forever.

Now he was coming back.

And he had no idea that his forever was already here.

Alive.

Walking.

Talking.

Waiting.

═══════

The day they arrived, I wore my best poker face.

I dressed in all black clean, simple, professional. My badge clipped to my belt. Hair up. Lips-red, pressed into a neutral line. I stood at the edge of the venue loading dock with my clipboard, reading the itinerary like it could anchor me.

It didn’t.

My heart was a riot in my chest.

I kept telling myself I could do this. That seven years was long enough to kill any feelings I once had. That I was over it. Over him.

But then the black vans pulled in, and I felt every nerve ending ignite.

I kept my eyes fixed on the roster list in my hand as the van doors slid open.

BTS spilled out like lightning in motion- laughing, stretching, waving at the crew. They looked like the versions of themselves I had seen in posters and screens from far away but never allowed myself to truly absorb.

Namjoon stepped out first, tall and calm. Then Jimin, soft smile already charming the camera crew nearby. Taehyung followed with a bored yawn and sunglasses perched low on his nose.

And then-

Jungkook.

He jumped down from the last van like it was nothing. Hoodie pulled over his head. Headphones around his neck. Black jeans, chunky boots, silver rings on his fingers. He looked older now. Sharper. His hair was longer, his jaw more defined, his tattoos visible beneath his sleeves.

But it was still him.

Still the boy who once whispered that I was his forever.

Still the boy who disappeared.

His eyes scanned the lot casually- and then locked on mine.

Time stopped.

His whole body froze.

For a moment, the chaos around us blurred. Managers shouting, equipment wheeling past, cables being dragged across the ground. I couldn’t hear anything. Just the thump of my heart. The blood in my ears.

And those damn eyes.

He took a hesitant step forward.

“Y/N…?”

His voice hit me like a sucker punch to the stomach.

I turned away before he could say anything else.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” one of the coordinators called. “Can you walk the manager through the setup list?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice too steady. “Right away.”

I didn’t look at him again.

I didn’t acknowledge the way the air had shifted around me. I didn’t let my expression crack, even as I felt his gaze burning into the back of my head like a secret trying to claw its way out.

I shook hands with BTS’s manager. Bowed politely to each member.

Taehyung smiled at me. “You’re the event coordinator?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m managing your team’s tech logistics while you’re here.”

“Cool,” he said. “You look familiar.”

I forced a smile. “I get that sometimes.”

Jungkook hadn’t moved.

He just stared.

I could feel him behind me- silent, motionless, stunned.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” the manager said again, “can we review the dressing room assignments?”

“Of course,” I replied. “Right this way.”

As I walked toward the venue entrance, clipboard in hand, I could hear Jungkook’s footsteps start and stop behind me like he didn’t know what to do. Like the weight of the past was catching up to him too fast to carry.

I didn’t let him catch up.

I stayed with the manager. I kept my tone clipped. Professional. Distant.

He didn’t deserve anything else.

═══════

That night, I put Eun Ae to bed and sat on the couch in silence.

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

I stared at the TV without watching it. The screen glowed, casting soft shadows across the living room. I could still hear his voice. That tentative, stunned way he said my name.

Y/N.

I hadn’t heard him say it in seven years.

I hadn’t wanted to hear it ever again.

And yet…

I had.

I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my chin there. The silence of the apartment buzzed in my ears. My phone sat on the coffee table, screen dark.

He hadn’t reached out.

Not that I expected him to.

But he had seen me.

Really seen me.

And tomorrow, we’d be back in the same building again- for rehearsals, for the show, for more pretending.

I looked down the hall where my daughter slept soundly in her room. Her small night light flickered against the soft yellow walls. She didn’t know.

She didn’t know that her father had stood not twenty feet from her today.

She didn’t know that the boy who left me all those years ago… was back.

And I didn’t know what I was going to do about it.

═══════

I didn’t believe it was her at first.

It was like seeing a ghost- only sharper. More real. Like memory had morphed into skin and bones right in front of me. She wasn’t a thought anymore. She was standing there, alive, breathing, clipboard in hand.

Y/N.

After all these years. After everything.

My heart stopped when our eyes met.

She didn’t smile.

She didn’t even flinch.

She looked right through me.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. The rest of the world faded into static as she turned away and walked past me like I was no one.

I didn’t know what to do.

So I did nothing.

I stayed quiet through sound check. Missed two cues. Forgot lyrics I’ve known for years. My hands shook on the mic. Jimin kept shooting me glances. Namjoon gave me a look like, we’ll talk later.

I couldn’t focus.

Because there she was- just feet away, giving stage directions to the crew, typing something on her phone, hair tied up, face calm.

She was even more beautiful now.

Older. Stronger. Softer in the eyes but sharper in the jaw. The kind of beautiful that made you regret ever looking away.

After rehearsal, we went back to the hotel.

Dinner was quiet until Taehyung broke it.

“So…” he said, glancing at me. “You okay?”

I didn’t answer.

Jimin raised a brow. “You’ve been weird all day.”

“Like, weirder than usual,” Hoseok added.

Jin leaned in. “What happened at the venue?”

Namjoon sat back. “That woman- the coordinator. You knew her, didn’t you?”

I stared down at my plate. My appetite was gone.

“Her name’s Y/N,” I said softly.

Yoongi’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

“No fucking way,” he said.

They all froze.

Jimin’s jaw dropped. “That Y/N?”

“From Busan?” Jin added.

“The one from… before you left?” Taehyung asked carefully.

I nodded.

“Holy shit,” Hoseok breathed. “She’s here? She’s working the tour?”

“I didn’t know,” I said quickly. “I swear I didn’t know.”

“She looked… fine,” Namjoon said slowly. “Like, completely put together.”

“She’s not fine,” I murmured. “I can tell.”

Yoongi crossed his arms. “Well, what did you expect? You ghosted her, man.”

“I didn’t-”

“You blocked her,” he cut in. “You changed your number. You dropped off the face of the Earth to her.”

“I panicked!” I snapped. “I didn’t know what I was doing. Everything was moving too fast, the training, the company, the rules. They didn’t want me in a relationship, especially not one that serious. I didn’t know how to tell her. So I didn’t.”

“You emotionally cheated on her dude,” Taehyung said, not unkindly. “And then what? You blocked her?”

“I thought…” I exhaled. “I thought she’d be better off.”

“No one’s better off being abandoned,” Jimin said flatly.

I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“But you did,” Jin said.

I didn’t say anything.

There was nothing left to say.

Silence stretched across the table.

Then Namjoon asked quietly, “Do you still love her?”

The words caught me by surprise.

But the answer came easy.

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

Yes, I still loved her.

Even now.

Even after all this time.

Even after everything.

“She looked right through me,” I said, more to myself than to them. “Like I didn’t exist.”

“Maybe to her,” Yoongi said, “you don’t.”

Those words hit harder than I expected.

I left the table first.

Back in my room, I sat on the edge of the bed for what felt like hours.

I scrolled through old photos. Scrolled through pain. Tried to find her number in my blocked contacts. Unblocked it.

I stared at her name like it would bring her back.

Jungkook: Y/N. Can we talk? Please.

Sent.

Three seconds later:

Not delivered.

I tried again.

Same result.

Her number was gone.

Or changed.

Or… both.

I dropped my phone onto the nightstand and buried my face in my hands.

Seven years.

And I still loved her like I was eighteen and scared and stupid.

Now?

Now I was twenty-five.

Still scared.

Still stupid.

But I wasn’t running this time.

Tomorrow, I’d find her.

Tomorrow, I’d try again.

Because I had to.

Because maybe I couldn’t fix the past…

But I could fight for the future.

═══════

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of little feet sprinting down the hallway.

“Mamaaaaa!”

Before I could sit up, Eun Ae launched herself onto the bed like a missile. Her tiny body landed across my stomach with an “oomph,” and she laughed like she was the funniest person alive.

“You’re heavy,” I groaned.

“I’m growing,” she declared proudly, scooting up until her nose was pressed against mine. “You said if I eat all my strawberries I’ll grow big. I ate three yesterday.”

“Three strawberries, huh?” I mumbled, still half-asleep. “Better call the Olympics.”

She giggled again and flopped next to me, tangling her legs in the sheets.

I stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath.

It was a new day.

The day after seeing him.

And somehow, the world hadn’t ended.

I glanced at the clock. 6:43 a.m.

Too early. Always too early.

But I was used to it. Motherhood didn’t care about sleep.

“What’s today?” Eun Ae asked, her voice soft now. “Is it a school day?”

“Nope,” I said. “School’s closed for the teacher training day, remember?”

Her eyes lit up. “So I get to go to work with you?”

I hesitated.

Technically, no. Technically, she wasn’t allowed backstage. Technically, I was supposed to find childcare.

But my sitter canceled last minute. And I didn’t have family to call. No backup plan.

And this morning wasn’t just a setup day for any show.

It was BTS’s first rehearsal.

Jungkook’s first rehearsal.

My stomach turned.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a calm I didn’t feel. “You’re coming with me.”

“Yay! Can I wear the sparkly pants?”

“Maybe not sparkly, baby. Let’s go for comfy.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Boring.”

“Functional.”

“Boring,” she repeated dramatically.

We argued for five more minutes before I managed to get her into soft leggings and a hoodie. I packed her a lunch- pb&j, apple slices, string cheese, a juice box- and stuffed her favorite drawing notebook and markers into her backpack.

═══════

By the time we got to the venue, I had mentally rehearsed every scenario in which she might accidentally wander into rehearsal. And every possible excuse I could use to explain why she looked so much like one of the men on stage.

I didn’t let my brain go there.

Instead, I signed us in, clipped her a visitor badge, and made a little “kid corner” backstage with a blanket and her supplies.

“You stay right here,” I told her, crouching in front of her. “No running. No exploring. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, but her smile was mischievous. “What if a famous person talks to me?”

“Then you smile and say hi. And you don’t tell them your life story, got it?”

She crossed her arms. “You never let me do anything fun.”

“You drew on the toaster last week.”

“I was decorating it!”

“Stay. Here. Please.”

“Fiiiiiine.”

I kissed her forehead and stood up just as the crew radio crackled to life.

“Band arriving in 10. Sound check team on deck.”

My chest squeezed.

It was happening again.

I checked the stage layout, ran over the day’s order, made sure tech had their mics and cue sheets ready. I moved like a machine.

Anything to avoid thinking.

But then I saw him.

Out of the corner of my eye.

He entered with the group, dressed in joggers and a white tee, hair tied back, a calm focus on his face. He looked… unshakable. Like he belonged here. Like he didn’t have seven years of silence hanging between us like an invisible wall.

Jimin saw me first and waved politely. Taehyung gave a half-bow. Namjoon offered a quick nod.

Jungkook… slowed.

But he didn’t say anything.

Not yet.

I stayed behind the crew as the members took the stage and warmed up.

I didn’t see Eun Ae sneak away until it was too late.

“Mama, look- !”

She ran directly onto the stage, arms wide, like it was the playground.

My heart dropped out of my chest.

“Eun Ae!”

Every member of BTS stopped.

Music cut. Mics echoed. Heads turned.

She stood center-stage, grinning, completely oblivious to the silence she’d caused.

Jungkook turned.

He looked at her.

Really looked.

And everything inside him changed.

I saw it happen in real-time.

His eyes went wide. His body locked up. His mouth parted, and then shut again. He stared like she was a ghost. A hallucination. Like his brain was trying to catch up with something his heart already knew.

Eun Ae spun in a circle and shouted, “Hi! I’m Eun Ae! This place is so BIG!”

Namjoon chuckled awkwardly. “Hello, Eun Ae.”

One of the techs looked at me like do you want us to stop her?

But I was frozen.

Because Jungkook hadn’t moved.

He just stared.

And I knew, without him saying a single word-

He recognized her.

He knew.

═══════

I managed to get her off the stage before the silence crushed us all.

Eun Ae didn’t understand, of course. She just laughed when I scooped her up into my arms and whispered too sharply into her ear.

“You can’t run out there like that, baby.”

“But I wanted to see!”

“You can’t.”

Her little face folded into confusion. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” I whispered, my voice catching. “No, sweet girl. You’re fine. It’s me. I just- I wasn’t ready.”

I carried her backstage as quickly as I could, ignoring the weight of all their eyes.

Especially his.

I dropped her back onto her blanket, handed her a snack, and told one of the interns to keep an eye on her while I stepped outside for “fresh air.”

It was a lie.

I just needed to breathe.

The service hallway was dim and cold and smelled like industrial cleaner. My footsteps echoed along the concrete as I pressed a hand to my chest and leaned against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut.

I couldn’t cry.

Not here.

Not when he might-

“Y/N.”

His voice hit me like a gust of wind, and I flinched.

I turned slowly.

And there he was.

Jungkook stood at the other end of the corridor like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to come closer. His hands were at his sides, fingers twitching. His brows were drawn, his mouth parted, but no words came out fast enough.

“You’re really here,” he said finally, almost in disbelief. “It’s you.”

I didn’t move.

He stepped closer.

I took a step back.

He stopped.

“Don’t,” I said. “Not here. I’m working.”

“I-” He swallowed. “I didn’t know you were in this city. I didn’t know you worked here. I didn’t know-”

“Yeah, Jungkook,” I snapped, my voice too loud, too raw. “You don’t know anything.”

He winced like I’d slapped him.

“I deserve that,” he whispered.

“You deserve a hell of a lot more than that.”

Silence swelled between us.

He looked like he wanted to run and stay and scream and cry all at once. His jaw clenched. His eyes darted back toward the door like he half-expected someone to interrupt this moment- or save him from it.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

I laughed.

It was sharp and bitter and ugly. “You blocked me.”

“I know.”

“I tried to call you. I begged you to talk to me.”

“I know.”

“You disappeared. You walked away like I didn’t matter.”

He didn’t argue.

Didn’t defend himself.

He just stood there, mouth trembling, eyes wet.

“I was scared,” he said finally. “I didn’t know how to handle any of it. I was young and selfish and… stupid.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I know.”

I stared at him for a long moment.

There was a time when I would’ve given anything just to hear his voice again. Now I just wanted him gone. I didn’t want to unravel here, in this hallway, in this job I fought to earn, while my daughter waited in the next room with her coloring book and juice box.

“I can’t do this right now,” I said, my voice low.

“Y/N-”

“I’m at work.”

He took a shaky breath. “Can we talk later? Please. Just… later. Whenever you’re ready.”

I didn’t say yes.

I didn’t say no.

I just stared.

And then I turned and walked away.

Because I knew if I stayed, if I looked at him one second longer, I’d break in a way I couldn’t afford to.

Not here.

Not now.

Not with her so close.

═══════

I didn’t sleep that night.

I laid there with my eyes open, staring at the ceiling while the air conditioner hummed like static in the corner. I could still feel his voice on my skin. Still see his face when he realized.

When he knew.

I hated that he looked heartbroken.

Like he had the right.

He didn’t get to be the victim in this story.

Morning came fast.

I got Eun Ae dressed in her favorite hoodie, tied her hair back with a rainbow scrunchie, packed her snacks, and kissed her forehead before handing her off to my night sitter. She clung to me a little longer than usual, her tiny hands fisting the fabric of my sleeve.

“Are you okay, Mama?”

“Of course,” I lied with a smile. “I’m just tired.”

She looked like she didn’t believe me, but she nodded anyway.

═══════

At the venue, I kept my head down and my steps quick. I met with the stage managers. Double-checked the lighting schedule. Confirmed the camera angles. BTS was set to perform the first of three sold-out shows tonight, and it had to be flawless.

I didn’t have time for ghosts.

But of course, he found me again.

After the final stage tech test, I was checking headset frequencies backstage when he walked in from the far corridor. Alone this time. Hoodie up. Head down.

I saw him before he saw me.

I slipped behind a crew cart and took the long way around the scaffolding, heart pounding in my chest like I was seventeen again.

I wasn’t ready.

Not for another talk.

Not for his eyes.

Not for the way my body still reacted to his with heat and tension and this deep ache of things never healed.

The first fans started trickling in. The venue buzzed with electricity. Excitement in the air like a current. BTS prepped for the show. Hair and makeup. Wardrobe. Rehearsal cues.

And I stayed invisible.

Until I couldn’t.

Just before the house lights dimmed, I ran into Jimin.

He was alone, drinking water near the monitor station. When he spotted me, he gave a small, tentative smile.

“Hey,” he said.

I nodded politely. “Hi.”

He looked like he wanted to say more.

“He’s a mess,” he said instead.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Jungkook,” he clarified. “He hasn’t slept. Barely talked. He’s… not okay.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

Was I supposed to care?

Jimin’s eyes softened. “He knows he fucked up. He’s never forgiven himself.”

“That makes two of us,” I said quietly.

He hesitated. “He didn’t even stay with that girl. The one he- after you. It didn’t even last a month. He couldn’t look at her without thinking about what he lost.”

I closed my eyes. “It doesn’t change what he did.”

“I know,” Jimin said gently. “But maybe it explains it.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the lights cut out before I could.

Cue time.

Showtime.

BTS took the stage and the world screamed.

The entire arena lit up like a galaxy.

And for two hours, I focused only on the logistics. The transitions. The audience flow. The safety of the crew. I spoke into the headset, gave instructions, moved like a storm on autopilot.

But I still saw him.

On stage.

Sweating, shining, dancing, singing.

He looked like he belonged up there.

Like he was born for this.

Like everything he left me for had bloomed exactly the way he dreamed.

But then his eyes found me in the wings.

And they broke.

I looked away.

After the encore, while the cheers still echoed, he stepped off stage and tried to approach.

I turned and walked in the other direction.

═══════

I didn’t plan to say yes.

When I walked into the venue the next morning, I had every intention of ignoring him again. Of slipping past with my badge and my fake smile and my shoulders squared like I couldn’t still feel him watching me.

But then he was there.

Waiting by the staff entrance with a hood over his head and both hands deep in his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t say anything. Just looked up when I passed.

And softly, like it wasn’t a plea:

“Please. Just one hour.”

I kept walking.

But by the time I reached the control booth, I’d already decided.

An hour.

That’s all he was getting.

I didn’t owe him more.

I texted my sitter and arranged a little extra time that morning. I found a café across the street from the venue. Quiet. Tucked between a record shop and a florist. The kind of place no one would think to look.

He was already there when I arrived.

Sitting in the corner booth, black hoodie pulled low, fingers tapping the edge of a coffee cup like he was trying not to shake.

I didn’t say hi.

Just sat down across from him and folded my arms.

We didn’t speak for a long time.

Finally, he looked up.

“Thanks for coming.”

I stared. “Start talking.”

He flinched like the words hit.

“I messed up,” he said. “That’s the bottom line. I fucking ruined everything.”

“You did.”

“I was scared,” he went on. “The company told me I couldn’t be in a relationship. I didn’t know how to balance you and the dream I was chasing and- ”

“Don’t,” I cut in. “Don’t make this about your dream.”

He swallowed hard. “I thought maybe if I let you go, you’d move on and be happy. I didn’t want to drag you into it- into this world, the chaos, the distance.”

“So instead you dragged me through abandonment.”

His throat worked. “I know.”

“And then you blocked me.”

“I know.”

“While I was trying to tell you I was pregnant.”

That landed like a punch.

He blinked. “What?”

“I called you. I texted. I tried everything. You’d already cut me out of your life. So I moved.”

“You… you were pregnant?”

“I am a mother.”

He looked like he couldn’t breathe.

“I have a daughter,” I said. “She’s six. She’s bright and smart and stubborn and beautiful. She likes animals and cereal and drawing on walls. She’s yours.”

He gripped the edge of the table like he needed something to keep from falling apart.

“She…” His voice broke. “She’s mine?”

“Biologically, yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“I tried. You made it impossible.”

His eyes filled with tears he tried to blink back.

“I missed everything,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I said. “You did.”

I looked away. My throat burned. My chest was tight with everything I’d kept locked away for so long.

“I haven’t been with anyone,” I added. “Not once. I haven’t had time to fall in love. Or heal. I’ve been in school, working, raising her, paying bills. Alone. While you…” I gestured toward him. “Got to live the life you wanted.”

He closed his eyes. A tear slipped free.

“I never stopped loving you,” he said.

I didn’t respond.

“I think about you every single day.”

Still, I said nothing.

“I dream about you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

He looked up again, broken open. “I want to be in her life. I want to meet her. Be her dad.”

I paused.

“You don’t get to come in just because it’s convenient now,” I said. “You shattered me. You left a crater behind that I’m still crawling out of. And I won’t let you break her the way you broke me.”

That made him flinch harder than anything I’d said yet.

“I understand,” he said softly. “But please… just one chance. Let me meet her. Just once.”

I sighed.

The silence stretched again, taut and heavy.

“She has a playdate this afternoon,” I said. “But tomorrow morning? I’m free.”

His eyes lit up.

“I’ll bring her to the zoo,” I said. “You can meet her. As a family friend.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

I stood up, ignoring the tremble in his voice.

“I’m not doing this for you, Jungkook. I’m doing it for her.”

Then I walked out before he could say anything else.

═══════

♡ Ghosts Can’t Be Dads ♡ Make Our Own Music ♡ next

MASTERPOST ♡ MASTERLIST ♡

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 06/15/2025

#jkwrites m #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts ff #bts ffs #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook idol au #daddy kookie m #©

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suliigwp · 3 months ago

Note

It's me again!

So its readers first day on track, like total rookie up from f3. So there sitting with acouple other drivers like lewis and fernando are sitting with her and giving her tips? But like there is totaly a language barrier. Like she is max verstappen 2.0

Thanks 🫶

-🦕

VROOM VROOM?

Rookie! Reader x platonic! Paddock (Hamilton, Alonso)

SULI: Yes I started writing this right away what about it🤨 I should be sleeping right now☺️ but I got an idea for this and had to write it down right away(only took an hour btw)- This was actually so fun to write. Thank you dino anon! Hope you enjoy this. I actually don't know how to tag this😭

Warnings: podium in rookie year? None!

The rookie sits stiffly in the white-cushioned chair, F1 jacket a size too big, hair still a bit damp from stress-sweat and a poorly aimed espresso machine incident earlier. She’s surrounded by legends—Lewis Hamilton on her left, Fernando Alonso on her right. Both have taken it upon themselves to gently mentor her. She, however, is somewhere between a confused raccoon and an overcaffeinated toddler.

Lewis starts off, his voice smooth, professional. He leans in with a kind smile.

“So, first weekend. You’ll want to be careful with tyre degradation in the first stint. If it’s hot, you really have to watch your—”

She blinks. Blinks again. Then chews her gum slowly, like her brain is buffering.

“…What is ‘tyres’?”

Lewis stops. He stares at her like she’s asked what oxygen is.

“The… the rubber. You know? On the car? Tyres?”

She squints. “Rubber?”

Fernando makes a quiet noise—either a cough or a laugh.

“Rubber. Okay. Sexy.”

Lewis sighs. “No. Not like that.”

She leans forward, excited now.

“You teach me. I go fast. I do… vroom vroom.” She gestures wildly, mimicking a steering wheel and what can only be described as throwing invisible dice.

Lewis looks to Fernando. Fernando shrugs and calmly sips his espresso like this is just Thursday.

“There’s a bit more to it than just… vroom vroom.”

She points at Lewis. “Vroom vroom?”

He hesitates. “Sure.”

She points at Fernando. “Vroom vroom?”

He puts down his cup, solemn. “Sí. Vroom vroom.”

She claps like a seal. “Ah! Vroom vroom!”

Lewis runs a hand down his face.

“This is what mentoring is now?”

They try again. Fernando pulls out a tablet and starts showing her a track map.

“So this corner—you brake late, stay on the inside. Apex here.”

She watches, squinting like she’s trying to read a foreign language.

“Brake late. Got it.”

Fernando: “But not too late—”

“I brake never.”

Lewis: “That’s�� death. You will actually die.”

She grins. “I have no fear. Only vroom.”

Fernando leans back in his seat, taking a breath, looking at Lewis.

Lewis looks back at him. “She’s going to kill someone.”

The media rep calls time. She springs up like she’s just learned how legs work.

“Okay! I do tyres. I do apex. I do vroom. Thank you, old men.”

She walks off confidently—straight into a glass door.

Lewis stares after her, deadpan.

“…Did she just call us old?”

Fernando sips his espresso again, nodding. “Yes. I respect her.”

Lewis sighs deeply, then mutters,

“God help us all.”

...

Later on in the season...Mayhem. Three DNFs.

Ger Engineers voice reached her ears again.

“Okay, that’s the last corner—just bring it home, nice and easy. P3, unbelievable job.”

There’s a pause.

Then the radio crackles with static and adrenaline:

“AAAAAAAAAAAH!! VROOM VROOOOOOM!!”

The entire garage bursts out laughing.

Engineer, through tears of laughter:

“That’s a… yes, that’s a P3 confirmed, copy. Incredible job.”

She’s already sobbing, half-laughing, half-screaming, still holding the steering wheel like it’s a joystick in Mario Kart.

“DO YOU SEE ME?! I VROOMED!! I VROOMED SO HARD!!”

She parks up and literally forgets how to get out of the car. A mechanic has to gesture like, “Lift the wheel. No, like this. There you go.”

As she stands on the podium, still stunned and soaking wet, Lewis and Fernando are already waiting at parc fermé. Both clapping. Both smiling like proud uncles.

She practically jumps into Lewis’ arms, almost knocking him over.

“You said tires! I did tires!”

Lewis hugs her back, laughing.

She turns to Fernando and opens her arms dramatically.

“My Spanish father!”

Fernando, completely deadpan, opens his arms back.

“My chaos daughter.”

He pats her helmet like she’s a weird little puppy that just won Westminster.

Fernando leans in, murmurs just for her:

“Next time… brake maybe once, sí?”

She snorts. “Never.”

Lewis shakes his head. “She’s going to be a menace for the next ten years.”

Fernando: “Yes. And I love it.”

As they walk off together, someone overhears her say to Lewis:

“So like… if I win, do I get free pizza or?”

Next Part!

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kitten4sannie · 11 months ago

Text

imprint

pairing: werewolf! mingi x hunter! reader (fem)

genre: fluff, romance, smut

summary: you seemingly end up biting off more than you can chew upon discovering that the beast you hunted down for dinner is not what it seems.

w.c: 4.5k (more plot than smut this time hehe)

warnings: needy soft dom! mingi, sub! reader, pet names + praise only (shocking ik), pheromones mentioned, possessiveness, kissing, groping, tit play, spit + drool bc wolf mingi is a messy boy <3, mingi eats out reader like she’s his last meal 🫶🏼, SIZE KINK,,, feral unprotected sex, knotting <333, bulge kink/cum inflation, breeding kink ofc

a/n: IT’S FICTOBER TIME BITCH LETS FUCKING GOOO 🗣️ i am fashionably late ~ but i have come here to humbly offer you lovestruck werewolf mingi 🐺 <3 this is the softest my fictober stories will get btw lol it’s gonna be depravity from here on out ^^ oh and i’m sorry if this fic seems disjointed in any way,, i have a lot on my mind these days but regardless i hope you enjoy ~~

pssst: thank you so, so much for 5.5k followers !! it’s honestly insane to me and i still can’t fathom it hehe but the support and love means so very much to me <333

song rec: say - keshi

fictober 2024

You knew better than to hunt at night, but your rumbling stomach begged to differ. The evening air was frigid, sitting heavily inside your lungs each time you regrettably breathed it in, your hefty pelt only doing so much to keep you safe from the powerful winds that continually blew through the vast forest around you. You pulled the hood of your pelt down for a moment, the familiar sounds of wildlife finally making their way to your now exposed ears, though a freezing breeze made its mark on the soft flesh of your rosy cheeks and nose. You bit into your chapped bottom lip, surveying your surroundings for something you’d be able to feast on once you were back inside the safety of your cabin, thanking the gods for the decent visibility you had from the full moon above.

The longer you sat there in silence, your body never growing acclimated to the fierce winter temperatures, you began to fall susceptible to exhaustion, the kind that had sunk its way deep into your bones in the same way your loneliness had for years at a time, feeling so heavy you retired from your once rigid stance and slumped down against the oak tree behind you. A few winks of sleep couldn’t possibly hurt you, not when you were quick to rise and fight if need be, your trusty bow and arrow at your side, as well as a pocket knife always sitting in its holster at your hip. You would be up as soon as you had the strength to open up your eyes and go on.

You eventually woke up to the sound of howling. It had been so distinctly powerful that it was most likely produced by a large wolf, perhaps the leader of a pack. It was then that the culprit of the noise stalked past a few nearby trees and bushes, its dark shaggy coat leaving it virtually impossible to see due to the way it blended in so seamlessly. Leaving abnormally big paw prints behind in the ground below, it slowly paced back and forth in front of you, still quite a distance away from you, but getting closer and closer with each step it made, its large brown eyes piercing right through yours and seemingly gazing upon your soul, deeply fixated on your presence.

It was much larger than any wolf you had seen in your entire lifetime, more akin to a dire wolf, which you had only seen in books, as it had been extinct for hundreds of years before, yet it was…so familiar. Still trapped inside the limbo of the dream you were initially having and your reality, you weren’t completely sure if what was happening before you was actually real. Not only that, but you had the sudden urge to be at the mercy of the wolf, even if it meant that you’d end up with your throat between the beautiful creature’s ragged teeth. However, you weren’t going to roll the dice with death, not when you’ve seen past loved ones get their lives snuffed out by a predator half the size of the one that was suddenly eagerly making its way towards you.

Just before the wolf could reach you, your bow was drawn, the feathered arrow slicing into the cold skin of your cheek as it sailed through the air and lodged itself into the creature’s shoulder, your eyes shut tight all the while. What you expected to hear were the familiar pained whines of a canine but you instead were exposed to the lower pitched groans of a man, causing you to freeze, your eyes opening back up, now widened like marbles. The last thing you were expecting to see was another human, not when you lived alone in the woods for so long, and especially not a man that was stark naked and cowering in pain, with tears in his glistening eyes, looking at you as though you had betrayed him.

You dropped your bow in favor of being at the strange man’s side, surveying his wound, realizing you were so exhausted and hungry, you must’ve simply imagined the wolf. “I-i thought…” you whispered, mostly to yourself, your voice trailing off, almost surprised to hear it after not using it for so long.

“Is that your way of saying hello?” The man hissed in pain when you touched the site of his wound, pushing your hand away from the broken shard of wood that was still lodged inside his bare shoulder.

“I thought you were…going to kill me…” You reached down and tore off a portion of your thick linen blouse, about to wrap it around the man’s wound when you blocked you with his forearm. “I saw a wolf…”

“Do I look like a wolf?” he pouted, reaching over to hold his shoulder in pain.

“I’m sorry, I–…Please, let me help you. I need to apply pressure,” you reasoned, your face contorted with growing regret and concern.

Studying your body language, the man cautiously let go of his arm and allowed you to wrap the torn linen around the wound site, biting into his lip all the while, letting out a few pained grunts. “Hurts…”

“I know, I’m almost done, I promise…” you whispered softly near him, taking a second to share a look with the man, apologizing once again with your softened gaze and upturned brows.

Once you were done, he leaned forward slightly into your personal space to study you, his eyes widened once again, this time with curiosity and admiration, already trusting you despite remnants of your arrow still left inside him.

You bit into your lip, letting out a small breath, which turned into condensation as soon as it left your mouth. “I didn’t think anyone else lived in this forest…Where did you come from?”

Afraid that you would find his true identity to be far too much for you to handle, he thought it would be better to hide it. “Some would call me a nomad…I’m here, there, everywhere, really.”

You nodded at his words, noticing once again that he lacked clothes when you were finally able to pull your attention away from his hypnotizing likeness, never having been drawn to someone like this before. It was then that you averted your eyes with diligence, your once cold cheeks growing warmer the more he stared at you. It took all your strength to return his gaze for just a moment. “Do nomads usually wander around the woods without proper clothing?”

“Well–” The werewolf’s vision went dark for a second, as your pelt was thrown onto him. He pulled it down just enough to continue admiring the human he had been watching from a distance for so long, blowing a few strands of dark shaggy hair out of his sight. “I’m Mingi, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N,” you answered sheepishly, not sure why the strange man was so keenly interested in you, especially after you just shot him with an arrow.

“Y/N,” he repeated lovingly, enjoying the way it sounded, slowly sitting up until little white dots began to dance around his vision. “I don’t feel so good.” When Mingi fell forward into your arms, he couldn’t help but smile. You smelled so pretty, just like he had imagined. Warm like cinnamon, smoky like the fire you always kept burning inside your cabin, sweet like flowers in a garden he would roll around in when no one was around. You smelled like home.

It took most of your strength helping the injured man back to your cabin, immediately laying him down in your bed and pulling your warm blankets up over him. To beat the freezing temperature inside your cabin, you quickly tossed a few pieces of wood in the fireplace and lit it up. You stayed crouched near the controlled flames for a little while to make sure the fire stayed alive, until your company let out a soft groan of pain. Now at his side, you pulled the pelt from his shoulders and frowned at the extent of the damage you caused, tears pricking at your eyes. “You’re still bleeding, Mingi…I’m so sorry…I need to stitch you up.”

Just as you stood up, Mingi reached up to hold onto the corner of your torn blouse, blinking hazily up at you, a few beads of sweat cascading along his straining neck. “Please, don’t worry about me, love. You’re the one who needs rest.”

“Nonsense.” You shook your head, pulling away to find your sewing kit, your cheeks hot to the touch. Once you found it inside one of your drawers, along with a sleep shirt that had belonged to a previous loved one, you returned to Mingi’s side. “Now, stay still, okay?”

“I’ll do whatever you need from me.” Mingi slowly sat up and rested his back against the headboard, watching with interest as you expertly sewed his wound closed, quite fond of the way you took care of him, and of how close you were to him, your hand resting on his chest for stability as you worked. Before you could pull your hand away from his body, he placed his over yours, unintentionally allowing you to feel his rapid heartbeat. “Thank you for this. Anyone else would’ve left me for the wolves.”

Biting into your lip, you couldn’t help but take into account the way his hand completely enveloped yours, truly forgetting just how important physical touch and connection with others was until this very moment, now that his warm skin was pressing into yours. “I-it’s nothing, really…”

“No, it’s not just nothing,” Mingi pouted, slowly bringing your hand up against his cheek to gently nuzzle into it. He couldn’t believe he had gotten this close to you, the special human he had been head over paws for ever since he had seen you for the first time. “It’s everything. You saved me.”

It was almost as if this stranger had escaped one of the novels you read over and over, seeming too good to be true. “It was the least I could do after I hurt you…”

It was when Mingi began to look at you for too long, with that unwavering longing in his eyes, that you cleared your throat and stood up, announcing, “I think I’ll make us some nice, warm soup. How does that sound?”

It took everything in Mingi not to let out a few celebratory howls, instead nodding his head eagerly, his shaggy brown hair bouncing. “I’ve always wanted to try your food. I can smell it from outside sometimes and it always makes my stomach rumble.”

You began to expertly chop up vegetables, stopping mid slice when you digested Mingi’s interesting choice of words. “So you know of me?”

“I-i do,” he nodded shyly, despite your back being turned away from him.

“Have you been watching me, Mingi?” you asked after a few more minutes of silence, your knife now slicing into the last few potatoes you had pulled from your garden before winter began.

“….Admiring you,” he gently corrected, knowing his big fluffy ears would be splayed out in embarrassment if they were there.

Just as you began to pour the cut up vegetables into the pot of boiling broth, you blushed and jolted suddenly from the implications of the handsome stranger’s words. Your elbow knocked into the side of your cleaver, causing it to slip off the edge of the wood counter. Before you could blink, Mingi had already caught the handle of the cleaver, slowly standing up by your side, officially displaying the sheer size difference between the two of you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, love…” Mingi set the cleaver back down onto the counter, reaching over to touch your hand with a gentleness you hadn’t experienced before.

The speed and quickness of Mingi’s reaction was incomprehensible; you were still reeling from it. Now he stood beside you, his size and stature more akin to a beast in human form than a simple man. Not only that, but the hand that was overlapping yours felt hot to the touch, like Mingi had a furnace burning away inside of him. You had heard stories of shapeshifters that lived in dense forests much like the one you called home. They had been around for centuries, living amongst themselves, never interacting with humans, able to take the form of beasts at will. You glanced out your window, peering up at the bright orb looming over you. It was a full moon, after all — but did myths like that really exist in the real world?

“Mingi…are you…?” Your words began to die inside your mouth as soon as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place inside your mind. You couldn’t deny the connection you felt with Mingi, knowing that your total isolation played a part in your desire to let him in. It clouded your mind. You were growing so tired, you almost didn’t seem to mind if he wasn’t strictly human.

Mingi smiled softly down at you, one of his canine teeth poking out past his plump lips, leaning himself down a bit to shorten the distance between you. He waited eagerly for you to finish your question, tilting his head to the side, having to blow his hair out of the way.

“Are you hungry?” you finally asked, lowering the flame on the stove so that the soup could settle now that it was ready to serve.

Mingi’s lips formed a silent ‘o’, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He thought you might’ve been on the same page about your mutual attraction, but he was beginning to suspect that his obsession with you was one sided. It’s not like you had imprinted on him; it was the other way around. Silly wolf.

Before Mingi could cry about it, he tasted something so delicious, he couldn’t help but let out an enthusiastic ‘mmm!’. You had slipped a soup spoon into his open mouth, allowing him to try the first homemade meal he’s ever had in his life, one that you had made for the both of you to share together within the sanctity of your cabin, away from the bitter isolation of the forest. He was a silly wolf, after all, because this, this was love.

“Good?” you gauged softly, your eyebrows upturned with sheepish anticipation.

“Good! Ahhh~” Mingi licked his lips and opened up again, savoring the warm, comforting feeling inside his stomach once you fed him another bite. “I’ve never had something this delicious before.”

“Oh, stop,” you blushed, pouring some soup into a bowl and handing it to Mingi, shocked to see him bring it up to his mouth and gulp it down. “Oh, you weren’t lying…were you?”

Mingi’s brown eyes were round, shiny like marbles, filled with unwavering sincerity. “Everything tastes better when you’re with the one you love…”

You almost choked on your own soup, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. “D-did I hear that right…?”

Mingi was a romantic at heart. He couldn’t help it, especially when the moon was so big and bright, glowing with everlasting light. She was reminding him to be brave. “Y/N, do you believe in love at first sight?”

Your heart thumped away inside your chest, a steady reminder that you were alive, and not alone for the first time in a long time. “I think I might…Is that crazy?”

Mingi brought his hand up to his face to hide the way it scrunched up with pure joy, his cheeks rosy and full of warmth. “If it is, then I must be too.”

“Where…have you been all this time? I’ve been waiting…for someone like you…” You slowly reached up to pull his hand down, bringing it to your own face, pressing your cold cheek into his large palm. “For someone to keep me warm.”

He had been there all this time; you just hadn’t seen him yet. But now, you would see all of him. Without thinking, Mingi brought his other hand to your face, gently cupping your cheeks and bringing himself down so that he could press his lips onto yours. It took everything in him to pull away just enough to whisper, “I’m here now. Is that…better?”

For the first time, you felt like you could let your guard down, not be the lonely, hardened hunter you had to be. Now that you were safe, you could take a rest. “Better,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around Mingi’s neck just in time to lay against his chest, losing the strength to stay awake.

You woke up to the sensation of something intensely warm wrapped around you from behind, someone’s lips idly pressed to the nape of your neck, what felt like fluffy ears twitching near your hair, the soft fur tickling your exposed skin. The air around you was hot and heavy like you were stuck inside an oven, an enticing aroma of spiced cinnamon and woody musk clouding your senses. Your eyelids fluttered open, first noticing two strong arms locked around your middle, realizing Mingi was holding you close to him, his heated chest pressing into your back.

Overcome by the memories of earlier, the forgotten intimacy of being touched and held by someone, the intense pheromones you were practically doused in, and the want, the need to be truly seen by Mingi, despite having just met a few hours ago, you attempted to turn around to face him, only to have him tighten his grip just enough to keep you still. “M-mingi, I want to look at you…I’m not mad, I just–”

“Do you know what you’re getting into, love?” he whispered in a gravelly voice into your ear, sounding like he had just woken up out of a deep sleep, sending a rush of goosebumps across your skin with just his words. “I’m not…what you think I am.”

You sheepishly pushed back against Mingi, hearing him let out a soft groan, knowing he was just as satisfied with the way your body felt against his. “I already know, Mingi…I trust you. I’m not scared.” You felt his grip loosen up around your waist, opting to cement his hands around your waist.

His lips were now pressing directly onto the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “Do you know what I am, Y/N? Do you wish to see?”

“I do…”

It was then that Mingi climbed on top of you, his broad naked body keeping the glowing orange light of the fire from reaching you, the pelt you had offered him earlier falling into a pile on the side of the bed. Filled with a sense of lustful wonder, you studied Mingi, your half-closed eyes trailing along his tan skin, noticing how his wound had already healed completely, unable to ignore the arousing addition of his elongated canine teeth and the way his tongue ran across them. “You’re a…werewolf…”

Mingi’s fluffy wolf ears twitched slightly, listening closely to the way your breath hitched. “Most would be scared of me, but you…you like this.”

You swallowed harshly, still finding it very difficult to breathe in the air around you, Mingi’s dominating presence further encouraging you to submit. “Will you eat me?”

Mingi let out a small puff of air through his nose, the corners of his mouth curling up into an amused smile, lowering himself further onto you, knowing his heavy cock was pressing into your heat through your linen trousers. His lips ghosted along your jaw, the bushy end of his tail gliding back and forth along one of your ankles, replicating the light strokes of a paintbrush. “Only in the way that would have you begging for more.” The small moan that escaped your throat didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He nosed at your neck, resisting the urge to lick and bite at it. “Though, i won’t do anything without your permission, love.”

You cupped your hands around his heated face, your insides feeling as if they had been set ablaze. “Do with me what you will, Mingi. I insist.”

When Mingi’s lips parted, you pressed yours onto them with a fervor you didn’t realize you possessed. The kiss grew more and more intense, the two of you holding onto one another as though you were afraid it all would end too soon, taking turns licking into each other’s willing mouths, breathing in each other’s air when you grew dizzy.

Growing frustrated with the lack of skin on skin contact, Mingi pushed his large hands up past the hem of your woolen top and slid it off of you, admiring the soft curves of your exposed breasts, before his desperation kicked in and he nuzzled his face against them, sighing onto your skin. “Beautiful…” He dragged his tongue up in between your tits, grabbing one while he sucked desperately on the other, a low growl erupting from his throat.

“Mingi,” you moaned out, your back arching, only encouraging him to see what other pretty noises he could get you to make, gasping when his sharp teeth teased your sensitive nipples.

He licked over them to ease the sudden bout of pain, unable to keep himself from sucking one of them into his mouth, apologizing with his upturned eyebrows and his big, round eyes.

You simply couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him to make a mess of your aching cunt, feeling your wetness stick to the thin linen material of your pants as you kicked them off. “Mingi, more, please, need more…”

The werewolf knew what you needed when your fingers slid into his soft hair, leaving kisses along your bare body as he moved down south, getting himself comfortable between your spread thighs. “You want me to eat you up, yeah?” He spread your pussy open with his thumbs, nosing at it to inhale your flowery scent, quite aware that it bumped into your clit when he gave your slit an experimental lick, just enough to collect your essence on his tongue. “My beloved needs me to ravage her?”

“Yes, plea–oh, my god,” you reacted whinily, your thighs involuntarily pressing into the sides of his head just as he dove in, which he grabbed onto, pushing them up and out of his way, his lips and tongue already working in tandem to drive you to a place of pleasure you’ve never been before.

Mingi devoured your cunt in true animalistic fashion, licking and slurping up your juices as soon as it spilled out of you, just to spit it it back onto your slit and drink it all down, eventually plugging you up with his large tongue to feel you throb, unable to keep himself from fucking you with it until you began to cry out his name in between unintelligible words, your fingers tugging on his hair.

So good, it’s so good, nnnghh, i’m–” You cut yourself off once your impending orgasm took over your body, barely able to register Mingi rubbing soft circles into your shaking thighs and leaving kisses across your inner thigh and on your sensitive clit. You were finally brought back to earth when Mingi’s arousal coated tongue slipped into your mouth, his heated body pressing heavily into yours, gasping into his mouth as soon as Mingi began to desperately rut against you, doing your best to swallow his drool. It was when he whimpered that you broke the desperate kiss, asking softly, “What is it, dear? Tell me what you need.”

“Need you, need to be inside you,” Mingi exhaled against your jaw, letting out a few shaky breaths, unable to keep himself from sinking his claws into your sheets, clearly at his limit. “Can I…? Please?”

“Have your way with me, Mingi,” you granted his wish, welcoming him with open arms, just as he folded you up into a mating press and began to pound himself into you.

Mingi knew that such an intimate position would almost guarantee that you would home his pups after the very first knot. It drove him crazy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you as hard and fast as he could, emitting a animalistic grunt or growl with each thrust he made into your dripping cunt, a few drops of drool escaping past his plump lips and landing on your flushed, sweat-ridden face. “You’re mine now, love. My mate. I’m going to breed you.”

“Y–ours…!” you could barely enunciate, not when he kept punching the air out of your petite body when his oversized one came in contact with yours, his heavy cock continually slipping back into your willing hole with so much ease, it was clear that you were made for him.

“Mine. My pretty little mate, all for me.” It was then that Mingi bit down into your neck, hard enough that he could leave his mark on you, a white hot streak of pleasure shooting through your spine as he did so.

It felt so good, you could’ve swore you were already cumming, dragging your nails down his broad back, your eyes disappearing underneath your fluttering eyelashes. The werewolf didn’t seem to get tired, no matter how many times you came undone, his large hands still tugging on your hips, forcefully guiding you back onto his cock as though you were a simple doll, at least until you felt a new sensation, something stretching you open even further. “Haaah, it’s so big…”

“That’s my knot, love. Will you take it, Y/N?” he panted into your ear, licking and nibbling at it as his husky voice finally penetrated your hazy mind.

“Yes, give it to me, please, Min…”

He hummed against your skin, running his hands along the soft edges of your heated body. “I’ll breed you full…so full of my cum, you’ll be carrying my pups by the next full moon.”

Something about what Mingi said altered the state of your mind on a primal level, your thighs automatically hooking around the werewolf’s waist, your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly close. You wouldn’t be alone anymore. You had a “mate,” like Mingi had lovingly coined the phrase. You would be his, and he was yours, and something so simple made you feel safe.

“Yes, please.”

It wasn’t the heavy knot that stretched you wide and locked you in that brought tears to your eyes, but the sudden, hot, seemingly endless rush of cum that flooded your womb that made you cry. Mingi rubbed gentle circles over the small pouch that joined the prominent bulge his cock made inside your abdomen. “You did so well, love, so good for me,” he cooed at you, giving your cheek a few loving licks. “You were made for me.”

“I was just thinking that,” you sighed softly, running your fingers through his matted, sweaty hair, loving how it felt to have him still stay inside you, keeping all his love from pouring out. It just felt right. Being here with Mingi felt right, like you had always been waiting for him to fall into your life.

“That’s because you’re my other half.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before resting his against yours. “It was destined.”

“For me to shoot you with an arrow?” you joked, reaching up to gently play with one of his furry ears.

Mingi nuzzled into your touch, wanting to stay with you in that moment, that warm bed, that cozy little cabin that kept you both safe for as long as he could. “I would get shot a million times over, if it meant that I could meet you again.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

fictober taglist: @littlefireball @crazylittlebisexual @luvbit3z @hwasbbyg @ane102 @linearities @hoe4yunho @tearfulsparks78 @sunkislove @binniesbabe @peelingpaint-heavyheart @prodsh00ky @dawn-iscozy @peachyy-jooniee @sunwoosbaby @screaming4san @cowgirlkller @markleecankickme @comicnerd557 @stay-thing-things @Alexxbear69 @kpopandthings @dekyepunn @m4m4-s4m4

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #mingi x reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #kpop smut

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hannie-berrie · 3 months ago

Note

request for yeon sieun x reader

Siuen unexpectedly becoming a little bold and daring? Maybe he starts to unexpectedly flirt back albeit rare and short it’s always jaw dropping flirtations and just leaves the reader hanging. His touching also going from brushing against reader’s hand to the thigh!! Could get smutty in the end!

I’m proud of what I just wrote, I’ll make a separate post for the smut part and link it here when it’s posted, enjoy 🫶

Bench touch

It starts with his hand.

Barely brushing yours on the bench between you, fingers skimming like he didn’t mean it, but the smirk tugging at the corner of Yeon Sieun’s mouth says otherwise. His head turning away from you, trying to hide the slight grind on his face, because he loves your reactions to his every touch.

“You’ve been distracted lately,” he murmurs, “Is it me?”

You blink. “What?”

He leans in just a fraction. “I see you, staring at me when I’m not looking”

He’s not wrong, but this side of him, confident, teasing, isn’t the one you’re used to. Yeon Sieun rarely lets cracks show. But something tonight is different. Maybe it’s the way the light hits his cheekbones, or the quiet of the night, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you like he already knows what you’ll say next.

His fingers brush yours again, but this time linger. Deliberate. Bold.

“I noticed something” “You react more than usual when I touch you” Your breath got faster, like your heartbeat.

You scoff. “Pff what are you saying” you fake laugh like he was ridiculous, this was your way of not losing control

There’s a beat of silence where all you can hear is your pulse. He turns slightly, his knee bumping yours. Closer. Too close.

“You like when I do this,” he says, and his hand slides, not over yours, but lower, grazing your thigh through the fabric of your jeans. Light. Teasing. It leaves a trail of heat in its wake. “Don’t you?”

His voice dropping half an octave

You try to answer, but your brain only thinks somewhere between the curve of his mouth and the way his hand lingers just a second too long.

“You should go inside now, it’s late” Sieun lets go of your thigh and gets up like nothing happened.

“wait wha-“ Sieun helps you up and slightly pushes you towards your house entrance. He waves at you goodbye with a smile that only made him more annoying.

You’re left there, heart pounding, painfully aware of the phantom warmth where his hand was, thigh burning with a touch that wasn’t nearly enough.

Not even close.

MASTERLIST 🫶💖

I have a lot of requests right now so I’ll do my best to keep you, requests are still open but it might take a few days for me to reply

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chrissssssmut · 4 months ago

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How about a yandere fic for Karina for her b-day?

In where Karina invites her fellow idol Y/N to come celebrate her b-day in her home. Hopefully you add some smut 🫶🏻

HER BIRTHDAY, HER RULES

Karina x Male Idol Y/N

AN: Happy Birthday Karina! Decided to make this story first since its her birthday today! Back to regular programming!🥰💕

You hesitated outside the door, shifting the wrapped wine bottle in your hands. Karina had texted you personally a week ago.

“Hey Y/N. My birthday’s coming up. I’m throwing something small, just close friends. Would love for you to come.”

The fact that she’d invited you—you out of all the other idols—made your heart stutter a bit. You two had shared a few polite moments backstage at shows, stolen glances in green rooms, nothing more. Still, Karina had this way of making everything feel personal when she spoke to you. Like you mattered more than you should.

The door clicked open before you could knock.

Karina stood there, dressed in a silky midnight-blue robe that shimmered slightly under the warm lights behind her. It hung off one shoulder just enough to show the smooth slope of her collarbone.

“Y/N,” she purred, her lips tugging into a slow smile. “You made it.”

You smiled back, slightly stunned. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss your birthday.”

She leaned in, gave you a soft cheek kiss that lingered longer than expected. Her perfume was sweet—jasmine, maybe vanilla—and it fogged your brain just a bit.

When you stepped inside, the silence hit you.

No music. No chatter. No guests. Just the flicker of candles on the coffee table and a half-empty bottle of champagne.

You glanced around the penthouse. “Uh… am I early?”

Karina turned, pouring a glass like it was nothing. “Not at all. You’re actually the first one here."

She handed you a flute and raised her own. “Cheers.”

You clinked glasses with a soft smile. “To you.”

“To me,” she repeated, eyes locked on yours as she sipped.

Minutes turned into an hour. You sat on the couch, trading stories, laughing more than you expected to. Every few minutes you’d glance at your phone, expecting more guests to buzz the door, but nothing happened.

Finally, you asked, “So… are the others late or something?”

Karina blinked, then gave a tiny shrug. “They said they’d drop by. Maybe they flaked.”

She leaned closer, her fingers lightly brushing your knee. “But I’m glad you came. Honestly, I only really wanted to see you.”

Your throat tightened, heartbeat ticking a little too fast.

“Me?”

She smiled. “Yeah. You’ve been on my mind a lot lately. I figured tonight might be the perfect excuse to get you alone.”

Her words danced between casual and dangerously intimate.

You looked away, trying to collect yourself. “Maybe I should slow down on the drinks—”

Karina refilled your glass before you could protest. “Don’t be shy, Y/N. Just relax. It’s my birthday, remember? That means I get what I want.”

She sat closer, her thigh pressing against yours.

You took another drink.

Some time later…

Your limbs felt warm. Too warm. You were buzzing—not wasted, but definitely past the point of making sharp decisions.

Karina had settled on the floor in front of you now, sitting between your knees, her chin resting on your thigh. Her robe had slipped further, revealing the delicate strap of a lace bra.

“I always wondered what kind of drunk you are,” she murmured, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your knee. “Turns out you’re cute when you let your guard down.”

You chuckled, leaning back into the couch. “And you’re… kinda dangerous.”

She grinned, tilting her head. “Is that a complaint?”

“No. Just an observation.”

Her eyes darkened a shade. “Good. Because I like when you look at me like that.”

She leaned in closer, lips inches from your throat. “You know, I wasn’t lying when I said other people were invited. I just… never sent the invites.”

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

“I wanted tonight to be just us. I wanted…” She paused, her hand slipping up your thigh, slow, deliberate. “…to finally have you to myself.”

Your breath caught.

She leaned up, kissing your jaw lightly. “Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

She pulled back just slightly, eyes glittering with heat. “Didn’t think so.”

Your pulse was a wild thing beneath your skin, thudding in your ears like war drums.

Karina straddled your lap now, her knees pressing into the couch cushions on either side of your hips. The silk robe slid open as she moved, a glint of smooth thigh and lace flashing beneath it. Her fingers dragged up your chest slowly, nails light enough to tickle, but firm enough to leave you chasing every touch.

"You're so tense," she whispered, brushing your hair back. "Let me take care of you."

Your breath hitched as she leaned in, pressing her lips to your neck—not kissing, not yet. Just letting them hover, her breath hot against your skin.

“You have no idea,” you rasped, voice lower than it had been all night. “How long I’ve imagined this.”

“Oh?” she purred, dragging her tongue up the shell of your ear. “Tell me. What did you imagine, Y/N?”

You swallowed thickly, your hands finally moving to grip her waist. Her robe was hanging off her shoulders now, nothing between you but the thin silk belt and your self-control—both of which were about to snap.

“I imagined you like this,” you muttered. “On top of me. Taking control. Making me beg for it.”

Karina let out a soft, low laugh that vibrated against your throat. “Beg? You don’t need to beg. Not tonight.”

She leaned back just enough to untie the robe’s belt, slow and teasing. The knot slipped loose with a quiet whisper, and the robe fluttered open, revealing the full curve of her chest barely contained in a black lace bra, the matching panties hugging her hips like sin.

She reached for your shirt, tugging it up. “Off. I want to see you.”

You didn’t hesitate.

The second it was gone, her palms were on your bare chest, gliding, exploring—fingertips dragging down toward your abs like she was memorizing every inch of you.

"You've been hiding this under stage outfits and leather jackets? What a waste."

You laughed, breathless. "You watch me that closely?"

She smirked. "Only all the time."

Then her lips were on yours—no teasing now. No hesitation. Just heat. Her mouth was soft but demanding, her tongue sliding over yours with perfect control. She kissed like she meant it, like she needed it, and every brush of her lips made your body thrum.

When she pulled back, her lips were slick, swollen.

“I want you to do exactly what I say,” she whispered, grinding her hips against your growing bulge. “Can you be good for me, pretty boy?”

You groaned. “I’ll be whatever you want.”

Her grin turned wicked. “Lie back.”

You obeyed instantly.

Karina rose just enough to strip off the robe and toss it aside, then climbed back over you—only now, she took the belt from the robe in her hands. She leaned down and gently, with deliberate slowness, took your wrists and pinned them above your head.

She bound them together with practiced ease, then tied the belt to one of the couch’s vertical bars.

You tugged slightly, testing. Secure.

“Comfortable?” she teased, her eyes glittering with heat and something darker.

“Only if you sit on my face next.”

Her breath caught—and then she laughed, genuinely. “You’re cute when you’re desperate.”

She slipped down your body, kissing a trail across your chest, tongue flicking one of your nipples just to hear you gasp. Then she undid your belt, popped your jeans button with one hand, and tugged everything down in one swift motion.

Your cock sprang free—hard, leaking, and throbbing.

“Oh,” Karina whispered, staring for a moment before biting her lip. “Pretty.”

She wrapped her fingers around the base, pumping slowly, teasing you with feather-light strokes.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to see this?” she murmured. “All those times backstage when you’d talk to me with that perfect smile, and I’d wonder… if you’d fuck me as well as you sang.”

“Why don’t you find out,” you growled.

She glanced up, eyes dark. “Oh, I will.”

Then she leaned down—and took you in her mouth, slow and devastating.

Her tongue curled around your shaft as she sucked, mouth hot and wet, lips stretched perfectly. She started shallow, teasing the tip with little flicks of her tongue, before taking you deeper, inch by inch.

You groaned, arms straining against the restraints.

She moaned around you, the vibrations making your back arch. Her hands pinned your hips down, keeping you still as she worked you over—messy, relentless, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

“Fuck, Karina—” you gasped. “Gonna cum if you keep that up—”

She pulled off with a pop, saliva trailing from her lips. Without a word, she let your cock rest against her tongue, then lightly slapped it against it—once, twice—watching the way it twitched, glistening with spit. Her eyes never left yours as she dragged her tongue slowly up the underside, savoring the mess she’d made.

“Not yet,” she said sweetly. “You don’t get to finish until I say so.”

Then she stood, peeled off her panties, and straddled you again—her folds glistening with arousal, her chest heaving.

You looked up at her, completely undone. “You’re evil.”

She grinned. “You like it.”

She reached down, guided your cock to her entrance—and then slowly, deliciously, she sank down onto you.

Both of you groaned in unison.

She was tight. Warm. Wet. You could feel every inch of her, the way she clenched around you, how perfectly she fit.

She started to move—slow rolls of her hips, rocking back and forth, her hands planted on your chest. Her rhythm was devastating, pulling you right to the edge over and over.

“Look at you,” she moaned, riding you deeper, harder. “Tied up, moaning for me. You belong to me now, Y/N. No one else is going to get you like this.”

You could barely speak—just gasps, curses, your body shaking beneath hers.

“Say it,” she demanded, picking up pace. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” you choked out. “Fuck, Karina—it’s you. Always you.”

Her face lit up with something more than lust. Something fierce. Possessive. Triumphant.

She rode you harder now, skin slapping, your moans echoing in the room, tangled bodies slick with sweat and heat and everything you weren’t allowed to feel on stage.

When Karina’s rhythm grew erratic, her hands gripped your chest tighter, nails digging crescents into your skin. Her head dropped back, mouth parted, hair clinging to her damp neck as her moans turned into frantic whimpers.

“Fuck—Y/N—” she gasped, voice breaking. “I’m… I’m gonna cum—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”

Her thighs clenched around your hips, trembling as she rode you harder, faster, chasing that edge with a wild kind of desperation.

You reached up, your hands now free, grabbing her hips to hold her steady, thrusting up into her as her body tensed.

“Karina—cum for me,” you groaned. “I wanna feel you fall apart on me.”

That did it.

She let out a strangled cry as her orgasm slammed into her—“Oh my god—fuck, Y/N—yes—” Her hips stuttered, grinding down hard as her walls clenched around you, pulsing with heat and need.

Watching her come unraveled you completely.

“Shit—fuck—Karina—” you growled, eyes locked on her as your own climax surged through you.

You spilled into her, deep and hot, groaning into her neck as she kept moving—slow now, milking every drop, dragging her soaked folds along your cock with deliberate, overstimulating rolls of her hips.

“God, you fill me so well,” she whispered breathlessly, body twitching from aftershocks. “I can feel it inside me… so warm. So mine.”

You let your head fall back, completely ruined beneath her, chest heaving, sweat-slicked skin against silk and lace.

She leaned down, brushing her lips over yours with a satisfied smirk.

You lay back, skin damp, your heartbeat still stuttering as Karina curled up beside you on the couch.

“Happy birthday,” you breathed.

She smiled against your shoulder. “Best gift I’ve ever had.”

Then, after a pause, she whispered:

“You’re mine now, right?”

Your head turned. “Huh?”

She was still smiling, but there was something unreadable behind her eyes now.

“I mean, after tonight… there’s no going back. You know that, right?”

Her fingers trailed your chest, light but possessive.

You swallowed hard.

She leaned up to kiss you again—slow, sweet, and a little bit dangerous.

And in that moment, you couldn’t tell if you were drunk on the alcohol… or her.

#smut story #aespa smut #smut smut smut #smut fanfiction #smutty smut smut #smutty fanfiction #female idol smut #smut #karina smut #aespa x male reader #smut stuff #smut scenarios #girl group smut #male reader #smut x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop story

631 notes · View notes

whorelaud · 10 months ago

Text

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 hazed by your scent ¡

pairing nicholas chavez x co star¡reader

summary Nicholas; your co star develops an obsession with your scent, growing infatuated to the mere thought of it. He never fails to tease you over it, hiding the fact that he's lowkey into it, until one day, things eventually took a turn, revealing his secret addiction to you.

contains kisses (lots and lots of them), making out, brief sexual content, tooth rotting fluff, confessions & ofc, nick being addicted to your scent

a/n first post on here, lowk nervous but i hope you enjoy !! likes and reblogs are appreciated 🫶 & feel free to request as well :)

word count 2.2k

It was no secret that Nicholas loves your aroma, maybe to you; but everyone else surrounding you knew.

He would take any chance he gets to smell you, burying his face in your neck, whether it was in front of people, or in private.

The two of you grew close overtime, developing a special bond with each other, one others envied. Besides that, you often get asked whether you were a couple, putting you in an awkward position.

You tend to brush the questions off, flushing when Nicholas playfully teases the fans, telling them you’re in a relationship, when you’re really not. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t mess with your head, knowing how much you truly like him deep down.

However, he was your co-star. You knew it was all fan service, there was no chance for you in the industry, especially with how popular Nicholas is among girls. So, for the sake of your feelings, you chose to protect your heart, convincing yourself his actions were a mere act of kindness, one every other co-star of his receives.

“You’re zoning out.” A familiar voice erupted through your ears, bringing you back to reality.

You looked over your shoulder, catching sight of Nicholas, who made himself comfortable on your bed. His arm was plopped against the mattress, letting it support his head as he relaxed into the touch.

He was supposedly waiting for you, as you both needed to attend an interview for an upcoming show you starred in. Nick offered you a ride, being the sweetheart that he was.

“Right,” you sighed, putting your jewelry on. “Sorry, I’m making you late.”

“You’re acting as if I didn’t invite myself over.” He clicked his teeth, tilting his head as he observed you through the mirror. “Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of time left.”

“I’m almost done,” you mumbled, putting your earrings on. “Jus’ a few touches.”

The boy hummed, nodding his head with understandment. You fixed up your hair, adjusting the straps of your dress as you stood to your feet. You slung your bag over your shoulder, checking yourself out in the mirror.

And if Nick’s gaze felt as if he was undressing you with his eyes, it was not to be mentioned; a mere gesture for your mind and delusions. You grabbed the perfume off the shelf, spraying it into your wrists, then both sides of your neck, topping it off with a splash to the air as you spinned to get it all on yourself.

You fanned it over to your dress, forcing your eyes shut so it wouldn’t go in your eyes. A chuckle erupted through your ears, shifting your attention back to Nicholas. You placed the perfume back on the shelf, eyebrows quirking with puzzlement.

“What are you doing?” Nick questioned, throwing his head back as he laughed.

“What?!” You rolled your eyes, “I have to smell good.”

“Oh, I’m afraid that won’t work…” he trailed off, nose scrunching with fake disgust. “You kinda stink.”

“Oh?” You cocked your head, a smirk making its way into your lips. “Do I?”

You walked towards the bed, knee dipping at the edge of the mattress. You threw your purse to the side, crawling your way across, until you were mere inches away from Nicholas. You plopped yourself on your stomach, flashing Nick a toothy grin, now that he was hovering over you.

“Mhm,” he muttered, grogginess visible in his voice. “You do, I can smell it from here.”

“Actually?” you questioned, slightly offended by the remark. “Do you not smell the perfume I put on?”

“Perfume?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “What perfume?”

“Nick!” You huffed, lightly slapping his arm, your touch lingering there. “Don’t be a tease.”

“Who said I’m teasing you?” He asked, his tone rather serious.

“Are you being for real?” You frowned, jolting up from your position. “Should I put more on? Give me a second, I’ll–”

“Hmm, let me check if you should.” he cut you off, grabbing you by the wrist.

An audible gasp escaped your throat as Nicholas pulled you closer, face instantly disappearing into the crook of your neck. Your warm vanilla fragrance invaded his nostrils, as he inhaled the side of your jaw, right below your ear. His hand came up to pool your hair to the side, cold fingers grazing over your exposed skin.

Goosebumps broke out across your arms, startled by the sudden gesture. You froze in your spot, forgetting how to breathe for a second as Nick’s fingers toyed with yours, intertwining your hands together.

You could feel his lips brushing against your neck, the distance between you nonexistent now. And before you could process the situation, Nicholas moved away, leaving you utterly speechless.

He laid on his back, arm behind his head as he stared up at you. A knowing smirk plastered across his lips, enjoying the flustered mess he had made out of you. Your face was as red as a tomato, you almost felt concerned over how hot you grew.

“What was that?” You stammered, fluttering your eyes at Nick, who chuckled at your reaction.

“What?” He shot back, “Checking if you smell good.”

“Mhm,” you scoffed, not convinced, whatsoever. “That wasn’t funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.” he replied, voice barely above a whisper.

You playfully rolled your eyes, shuffling around to get off the bed. But before you could, you felt yourself get yanked down, earning a gasp out of you. Nick’s arm supported your back as he pulled you down, until your body was caged to his chest.

“I’m not done with you.” He started, teasing hinted at in his tone.

Alarmed by the action, you perk up, now face to face with Nicholas. Your breath caught in your throat, able to count the faint freckles across his face. He was so close, so unbearably there, you just wanted to lean down and kiss him.

However, the brunet beat you to it, moving forward as he collided your lips into a soft kiss. It was short, a mere peck, yet it felt so much more, expressing emotions you guys never dared to mention, nor bring up.

Your eyes widened in shock, arms hovering over Nick’s chest, not aware of what to really do with them. You eventually caught sight of Nicholas, who’s eyes grew hazy at the gesture, just as affected as you by the kiss. He blinked up at you, expression switching to something you’ve never seen before, not from him, that’s for sure.

It was almost as if he did it to get a reaction out of you, testing the waters, seeing where your friendship lies; whether it was beyond breaking boundaries. And, hell, were you confused. You knew he would act like nothing happened the next day, because this is not the first time something like this goes down between you two.

And you were scared, the mere thought of ruining your friendship over something as wicked as your feelings made your stomach stir with nervousness, mind hazing up with all sorts of thoughts.

Panic arose inside your chest as Nicholas leaned in for another kiss, brain growing foggy as your fingers came up to cover his lips, pushing him back down on the bed. His eyes forced open at the action, staring up at you with a puzzled look across his face.

“Wait,” you shyly whispered, staring down at him. “What are we doing, Nick?”

“I have no clue.” Nick shot back, voice muffled due to your hand still covering his mouth.

His hand wrapped around your wrist, moving your fingers in an instant. And before you knew it, he connected your lips into a haste kiss, one you both yearned for.

Nick captured your lips between his, deepening the kiss when you relaxed into the touch. His hand found the back of your neck, using it to push you down more, if that was even possible. He squeezed the skin around your waist, earning a gasp out of you.

He took that as a chance, letting his tongue invade the inside of your mouth. You gladly accepted, pleasure overcoming your body as you laid your hands on anything you could reach for. It felt like you were in heaven, the taste of his mouth so addicting, you could get high on it.

“You know,” Nick pulled away, littering open mouthed kisses to your jaw, trailing all the way to your mouth. “Not only do you,” a kiss, “smell good,” and a peck to your lips, “but you taste good.”

Your face flushed a deep shade of red at the bold comment, feeling your limbs go numb in the process. You almost yelped as Nick flips you over, now towering over you. He stroked your cheek, a smirk making its way onto his lips as he pulled you into another kiss.

And while you were having the time of your life, you needed to put an end to it, as you were both clearly late now. Therefore, if you don’t stop right now, you don’t think you’ll be able to stop later.

“While this is tempting,” you started, pushing Nicholas off. “We have an interview; one we’re very late to.”

“Fuck that,” Nick groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Call in sick.”

“No way.” You giggled, shoving him off of you.

“Come on.” Nicholas threw his head back, eyes forcing shut with frustration.

“You’ll get over it,” you roll your eyes, hesitating to mutter your next sentence. “You’ll act like nothing happened anyways.”

Because that’s what always happened. It was an unforbidden rule, one you shouldn’t have brought up. That earns a pause out of Nick, stopping what he was doing to look at you. You avoided his gaze, growing overwhelmed by how hard he was staring.

His eyes burned holes into your skin, searching for something out of you, a reaction; perhaps an explanation. But instead, nothing. You simply sit upright, now facing the latter.

“It’s not like I do it because I want to.” He finally shot back, causing you to freeze in your spot.

“Hmm?” you hummed, afraid your voice would crack if you spoke.

“Lord,” he said through a breath, “Do you know the amount of times I had to hold myself back from kissing you?”

And the admission sent you over the edge, skyrocketing your heart rate. You felt your throat drying up, barely able to swallow down your nervousness.

“What?” You blinked, far too many times for your liking. “What do you mean?”

“Have I not made myself clear?” He whispered, inching his face closer to yours. “I like you, so much it drives me mental. Hell, I’d never lead you on, doll.”

That was all you needed. You almost screamed at the confession, red all over. Your mouth gaped to speak, met with utter silence as you let it fall back shut. In conclusion, Nick likes you, perhaps more than your delusions told you he did. You could feel your heart racing against your chest, an adrenline rush pumping through your veins.

“I thought…” you trailed off, gulping. “I thought it was, you know… casual.”

“Baby, I take every chance I get to shove my tongue down your throat.” He stared at you with disbelief, the confession rolling off his tongue. “What about that is casual?”

“Okay, there’s no need to phrase it like that–”

“We almost fucked,” he continued, making you choke on your own spit. “How is that casual?”

“Nick!” You warned, slapping his shoulder. You avoided his gaze, not wanting him to notice how flustered you were.

“Do you want it to be?” Nicholas suddenly questioned, catching you off guard.

“Huh?” You shot back, unaware of what he meant.

“Casual,” he clarified, a hint of disappointment visible in his tone. “Do you want it to be?”

“God, no!” You swiftly replied, brushing off the statement. “Not at all.”

“Good.” His voice lowered, beaming before he pulled you into another kiss.

This time it was soft, gentle, expressing everything unspoken between the two of you. One of your hands cupped his cheek as you smiled into the kiss, growing giddy at the realization you had. Nick likes you, only you. He wants things to work out, he was not messing around, just as serious as you over this.

“You’re an idiot.” You chuckled, resting your forehead against his.

“Yeah, and you’re an angel.” he praised, kissing the side of your neck. “You smell fucking amazing.”

“Shut up.” You blushed, getting off the bed. You caught sight of your reflection in the mirror, gasping when you noticed how swollen your lips were. “My makeup is ruined, and we’re late!”

“It’s a sign.” Nick answered, observing you from the bed as you retrieved your shoes from your closet. “Let’s reschedule for another day.”

“That’s not how it works.” You scoffed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’ll get a scolding from your manager, Nick.”

“We’re in trouble anyways,” he joined you by your side, watching as you put your shoes on. “Let’s go to my place afterwards.”

He pecked along the exposed skin on your shoulder, littering soft kisses all the way up to your neck, the feather-like sensation sending shivers down your spine. You snickered, attempting to push him off.

“Nick.” You shied away from the touch, making the latter giggle.

“What?” Nick asked, teasing hinted in his tone.

“Jus’ making sure you smell good.”

#nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholas chavez fluff #grotesquerie #nicholas chavez x you #father charlie mayhew

2K notes · View notes

cyber-mari · 1 year ago

Note

can you do some cuddle headcanons for the main four? That's if you don't mind! Thank you🫶

₊ ☆ ‧₊˚ → main four (hxh) cuddling headcanons!

cw: fluff, a teeny tiny of angst in kurapika’s part

note: i wrote this last night and started on 2 more request right after #grinder anyway, i hope you enjoy! i had a lot of fun writing this (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)!

- d1 cuddler right here

- this boy LOVES clinging onto you in any possible way

- anyway

- really warm, he’s like a personal heater

- can be big spoon and little spoon!

- he just loves having you in his and/or being in your arms so much

- i feel like his love language is physical touch so i just see cuddling being a frequent activity in your relationship, it’s one of his favorite things

- cannot stay in one position for the life of him, one minute he has his arms wrapped around with your head in his chest you then the next he’s borderline on top of you

- one time aunt mito walked in on you both cuddling and she has not let you live it down

- killua is gets really shy with physical affection, both giving and receiving. he doesn't know how to react. he blushes like crazy, gets butterflies, its just an unfamiliar feeling, and for that he hates it, yet somehow craves it at the same time. he’s so insanely touch starved

- he’s is great at it when he gets used to the affection though

- some (most) times he falls asleep while you guys cuddle, your presence is just comforting to him.

- prefers being big spoon :3

- he wraps his arm around your waist, face turning ruby red as he does so.

- i don’t see him being physically affectionate too much, but the times he’s feeling clingy he’s so annoying omg

- BUTTTT the boy soon stops his whining as he eventually has his wrapped arms around you. (or vice versa)

- loves having his hair played with

- sigh he’s so insanely cat coded

- poor baby works so hard ☹️, so on the rare occasions he has time to himself he spends it with you.

- cuddling/physical affection in general is something i see him liking

- he rests his head on your shoulder or chest with his arms wrapped tightly around you

- doesn’t mind being big spoon or small spoon

- he just likes being close to you. he feels so safe and comfortable around you, he ends up falling asleep in that position.

- he sometimes has nightmares and wakes up in the middle of the night

- holding him is the only thing that eases his pain on nights like those

- you brighten up his life and reduce his stress so much

- leorio loves cuddling so much

- he just likes physical affection in general tbh

- after a long, tiring day of studying, it’s one of his favorite things to do.

- honestly, he's so whiny when he's tired and just wants to lay on top of you.

- he’s like 6 ft tall y’all so i feel like he’s just big spoon most of the time 😭

- medical school and everything takes up a lot of time, so this results in a lot of late night cuddling

- orrrrrr if it’s morning time, you’re both sitting on the couch or something and he just has you in his arms, reading something related to what he’s studying.

- a lot of the times he end up falling asleep though 😭 he’ll talk in his sleep, mumbling about something he read like “mmphnrmm the respiratory system has 7 main partsmmpghmh…”

1K notes · View notes

sunrizef1 · 1 year ago

Text

Please Please Please

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: None

Authors Note: this isn't what the poll was for dw lmao | also I've been caught out by lando once again 😭 he's just the best fit for this song

—————————————

yourusername

📍Buenos Aires, Argentina

liked by taylorswift landonorris and 2,349,022 others

yourusername Had a great time opening for #TSTheErasTour in Buenos Aires! Muchas gracias, Argentina! 🇦🇷

load comments…

user1 so so so pretty 😭

user2 I was there 🥰

user3 loml

user4 I LOVE HER SO MUCH

user5 just looked in the mirror and sighed

user6 my favorite outfit from this leg of the tour

taylorswift 💕

yourusername 💕

user7 I FEEL SO MUCH LIGHTER LIKE A FEATHER WITH YOU OFF MY MIND

user8 that second picture is so adorable I’m screaming 😭😭😭

user9 IM TALKING NONSENSE

user10 new album when???

user11 Lando Norris in the likes??? 😭

user12 wait who is that

user13 an f1 driver 😭

user12 what’s he doing here

user13 idk 😭

user14 Y/N RUN QUICK LANDOS HERE

user15 we can’t let him get her 😭

user16 she’s so pretty I’m in love with her 🫶

——————————————

yourusername added to their story

landonorris

🤩🤩🤩🤩

yourusername

🤭🤭🤭🤭

landonorris

I saw you open for Taylor

in Brazil

your were wonderful

yourusername

I’m flattered 🥰

landonorris

I’d be even more flattered if I could take you on a date

yourusername

You usually this confident?

landonorris

No, I’m actually not

yourusername

Well

I’d love to go on a date with you Mr Norris

landonorris

😅 thank god that worked

You ever around Monaco?

yourusername

Not usually

But I could be 😚

I’m off next week <3

landonorris

Perfect

See you then

———————————————

TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by landonorris jackantonoff and 4,777,008 others

yourusername that’s that me espresso ☕️🩵

load comments…

user17 rip sharpay evans you would’ve loved espresso by y/n l/n

user18 it’s actually so good omg

user19 best song ever made fr

user20 love love love

user21 truly that girl

user22 ON REPEAT

user23 I love her more than life

user24 IM WORKING LATE CUS IM A SINGERRRRRR

user25 face card never declines

jackantonoff rly good!

yourusername thanks jacky 🥰

user26 jack x y/n collab when???

user27 Landos back in the likes…

user28 free my girl from the shackles of a man

user29 oh my god is the song about him

user30 they haven’t been seen together in a while so I sure hope not 😭

user31 song of the year

user32 🩵🩵🩵

———————————————

yourusername added to their story

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by taylorswift maxfewtrell and 4,000,112 others

yourusername I'm working lateee cuz its my birthdayyy 💛

load comments…

user33 how to lose a guy in 10 days dress!!! 💛

user34 💛💛💛

user35 that polaroid looks suspiciously like lando

user36 that could legitimately be anyone

user37 of course but unfortunately she's been seen with him recently so…

user38 not lando…

user39 so pretty 🤩

user40 y'all rly hate lando? That mans been so supportive I legit can't not like him

user41 ikr! I'm a proud lando defender. No reason to hate him.

user42 I love them together idc

maxfewtrell happy birthday!

yourusername thanks max 🫶

user43 still not convinced that's lando

user44 girl.

user45 😍

user46 happy birthday girl!!!

user47 my favorite pop girlie

user48 IM WORKING LATEEEEE

user49 queen 👑

user50 I love lando 💛💛💛

———————————————

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

🎵 Please Please Please - Y/N L/N

liked by landonorris maxverstappen and 9,880,771 others

yourusername I know I have good taste

load comments…

user51 hardest of hard launches

user52 I LOVE THEM TOGETHER I DONT CARE

user53 favourite couple 💛

user54 gorgeous gorgeous people

user55 LANDOOOOO

user56 lando wasn't even acting in that video that's just how down bad he is

user57 that first pic… 😍

user58 bring your bf to work day

user59 ...okay maybe I like him 🙄

user60 wait hes kinda hot 😭

user61 my royal couple

maxverstappen is lando gonna be an actor now???

yourusername its a good backup plan if the driving thing doesn't work out

landonorris I think I'll leave the acting to you

maxverstappen that's for the best mate

user62 lmao max

user63 they're so pretty 🥰🥰🥰

user64 so it couple core

user65 ATEEEE

landonorris yeah you do 💛

yourusername 🙄💛

———————————————

landonorris added to their story

user1

Y'all r so cute

———————————

user2

yeah she is

———————————

user3

😍😍😍😍

———————————

user4

I still don't trust you car boy

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user5

the music video was so good!!!!

———————————

yourusername

I love you 💛

landonorris

love you too 💛

———————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x female reader #lando norris imagine #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris x reader

2K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 6 months ago

Note

my queen of comfort 🙇🏻‍♀️

can i pls request a marauders with reader who has seasonal depression and it gets bad especially during the winters??? thank u 🫶

Thanks for being patient with me lovely <3

cw: depression, no harmful thoughts but general apathy and lethargy

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 995 words

It’s warm in your bed. Almost too warm. The backs of your knees and the place where your arm is folded against your side feel uncomfortably heated. But Sirius kisses the back of your neck when he wakes, and you wouldn’t move for anything.

“Let’s go to the farmer’s market today,” he says, voice sticky with sleep.

You look out the crack in the curtains covering your bedroom window. “It’s so cold out, though.”

“So we’ll bundle up. You can put your hands in my pockets if you don’t feel like wearing your gloves.” His nose bumps your nape as he kisses you again. “It’ll be very romantic. The woman who sells the apple tarts said she’d be back this week, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m okay.”

“You won’t let me get my girl a sweet? I thought you really liked those.”

“I do, just.” Just. It feels like it’s all you say lately, like all you do is make excuses. Just, just, just. “It doesn’t seem worth it. It’s really gross outside.”

Sirius’ arm comes around your waist. He doesn’t contradict you. It’s dreary and gray out your window, drizzling rain that bites like ice when it lands on your skin. You’d rather lose track of the day lying here with him, let it slip through your fingers and not think very hard about what it means that you have. Sirius’ fingers playing with yours make this all the more appealing.

“What if we went to the cinema?” he asks. “That comedy film is showing this weekend.”

“Didn’t James want to see that one?”

“Think so, yeah.”

“You should take him.”

“I don’t want to take James.” Your joined hands press to your hip, a gentle request for you to turn around. But you don’t want to look at him, and Sirius doesn’t make you. He squeezes your fingers instead. “I want to take you.”

That’s the important bit. Sirius doesn’t care about the farmer’s market, or even really about the film. You know he only wants you to get up, to go anywhere and do anything at all, and you feel like shit for resisting him. You shouldn’t, either. You know how sadness can sink its talons in the longer it holds you.

“I’m sorry. Yeah, let’s go.”

“Don’t be sorry, lovely girl,” he chides fondly. “We don’t have to go if you won’t enjoy it. What do you want to do?”

You try to muster something for him, you really do, but after a handful of hapless moments you can only be honest.

“I don’t think I want anything.”

“That’s okay.” Sirius drops a kiss on your shoulder. “Hey, could you look at me? Please?”

You roll over, miserable and made more miserable by the aching tenderness in your boyfriend’s expression. This new spot on the bed is colder than where you’d been, but Sirius’ knee bumps against yours, his palm slipping beneath your head on the pillow. He doesn’t hesitate to touch you. Doesn't treat you like you’re breakable or wrong or contagious. His hand flattens under your cheek and warms your skin like he can bleed goodness into you.

“It’s okay,” he says again, softly.

“I’m sorry.”

Sirius tsks. “Now what for?”

“Making things so hard,” you murmur. You’re trying not to disturb his palm with your mouth movements.

“Sweetheart, nothing’s hard when I’m with you. I just want to be with you. We can just sit here and talk all day if you want.”

“I don’t think I’m very nice to talk to right now.”

“What does that matter? I know I’m awful to talk to half the time. We can be morbid bellyachers together.”

With some effort, you lift one corner of your mouth. Sirius kisses it rewardingly.

“You are a delight to talk to, by the way. Always.”

“A delight?” you whisper.

“Mhm.”

There’s a piece of his hair that’s arching over his face, all sprightly and mussed about by the pillowcase. You’re close enough that it moves when you breathe. You blow, and it tickles Sirius’ nose. He smiles.

“I don’t think I want to talk,” you admit.

“That’s okay.”

“I know I’m not fun to be around right now. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make everything miserable.” You look at the dip of his cupid’s bow rather than his eyes. “I love you.”

It feels important to say. Even when you’re dropping it in his lap awkwardly, like a plea.

Sirius tilts his head until his eyes meet yours. Dark lashes and silver pools, like moonlight glancing off water. “I love you,” he says, so sincere it burns. “I have another idea.”

You hum.

“We watch a film here instead. Or a show, whatever. But first, you tell me how to make french toast so we can have some for breakfast.”

“You don’t want me to make it?” You don’t want to, but you’d try for him.

“I want to do something for you.” He kisses you, soft and sweet. He tastes like sleep. “But you’re allowed to help if you like.”

Allowed amuses you, though you don’t smile. Sirius’ eyes glint like he can tell just the same.

“You do lots of things for me,” you say.

“Good. I’d like to continue adding to the tally; it’s how I keep my edge.”

You look at Sirius, thinking of how much you must love him for it to ache this deeply. Thinking of how he loves you, and how unfair it seems. He keeps doing it even when you give him every reason not to.

Sirius can tell you’ve slipped away. He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “So, what do you say, gorgeous?”

You don’t really want to eat french toast. You think you’d swallow battery acid if he made it for you, though. “It sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” He grins. “Okay, let’s go then, yeah? I’m starving.”

You give Sirius your hands when he reaches for them, and you let him pull you up.

644 notes · View notes

lerclan · 1 year ago

Text

orange | lando norris

type: smau + written

pairing(s): influencer!reader x lando norris

summary: you wanted to share your love for orange but it ends up with you and an f1 driver having dating rumors which slowly develops and turns out to be true at the end.

warning(s): slightly suggestive at the end

fc: random girlies off of pinterest!

---

ynnn

Liked by amayamoore, lilymhe, and 376,193 others

ynnn in love with orange atm 🧡🐚🪸

tagged: amayamoore

View all 73,618 comments

---

amayamoore LOVE YOU BABESSS 🫶

ynnn LOVE U 2 MAMI😻😻😻

user1 okay girlll we see you with f1

ynnn chat i have no idea what that is

user1 WHAT?? HOW??? ITS LITERALLY ONE OF YOUR PHOTOS AND YOUR FRIENDS W LILY MHE?? ��😭

ynnn I JUST THOUGHT IT WOULD FIT THE AESTHETIC AND AMAYA WAS THE ONE THAT INTRODUCED ME TO LILY. ALL WE EVER TALKED ABOUT WAS GOLF 😔

user1 ohhh 😭😭😭 okay girl eat it up 🙏🙏 ❤️ by author

user2 soft launch??

user3 IN LOVE W ORANGE THE COLOR OR IS THIS A CODE NAME FOR THE DRIVER?

user4 PLSSS WHAT IF ITS A SOFT LAUNCH??

user5 considering that y/n doesnt know what f1 is im not really sure abt this one

user3 what if its like a cover up or something

user4 YEAH FR WHAT IF SHES J PLAYING W US

ynnn 😈😈😈 *author deleted a comment*

user4 OH

user6 OMG NO WAY 😭😭

user3 WE SAW THAT

lilymhe okay come hangout with me when?

amayamoore in 3 days trust.

ynnn girl...where are we going...

amayamoore you wont like it but me and lily will

lilymhe OMG NO WAY?? FR??

amayamoore YESSSS

ynnn chat im lost

user7 okay shes in her wag era ❤️ by author

user7 OOP.

user8 NOT THE SOFT LAUNCH PLSSS

---

landonorris

Liked by mclaren, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 721,917 others

landonorris im orange 😭🧡

View all 112,172 comments

---

carlossainz55 i told you to not do it but you still did it anyways mate

landonorris TO BE FAIR I THOUGHT IT WOULD WORK BETTER SINCE IM ALREADY TAN

carlossainz55 yeah now look at you. you look like an actual papaya. shouldve left that fake tan alone.

charles_leclerc no wonder you looked like that. 😂😂😂

mclaren someones a true dedicated papaya 👀🧡 ❤️ by author

oscarpiastri mate you look like the lorax 😭

landonorris thanks osc...really needed that

user1 LMFAOAOAO IM CRYINGGG

user3 guys aint no way...IS THIS ACTUALLY REAL?? OR LIKE AM I OVERTHINKING 😭😭🙏

user4 NO GIRL I GET IT...IT ACTUALLY MATCHES UP 😭😭😭

user6 WE ALL SAW WHAT Y/N REPLIED WITH 💀

user3 IKR LIKE HER CAPTIONING "in love with orange atm" AND NOW LANDOS CAPTION "im orange" LIKE????

user4 YOU MIGHT BE ONTO SOMETHING FR

user9 you guys are so delusional 💀 landos talking about him putting on fake tan and it made him orange 💀💀

user3 let us be delusional please 😔

user10 lando has rizz?

user11 y/n and lando lowkey have matching captions

user12 who is y/n?

user11 shes an influencer. shes friends with lily mhe 😄 heres her account @/ynnn

user12 OMG THEY FR DO LOWKEY HAVE MATCHING CAPTIONS...

---

f1wagnews

Liked by user3, user4, and 127,232 others

f1wagnews potential f1 wag in the process? or is it all just a mishap?

View all 12,232 comments

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user3 IM CALLING IT I SWEAR. ❤️ by author

user3 THEY WOULD BE SO CUTE THO... ❤️ by author

user4 FR???

user10 i agree w you guys fully.

---

ynnn

Liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 628,162 others

ynnn no cuz im being fr she actually just kidnapped me and forced me to put on the outfit 😟

tagged: amayamoore

View all 92,717 comments

---

scuderiaferrari please kidnap her more. the garage enjoyed her rant about despicable me 😂❤️

redbullracing were gonna have to bribe her friend to bring her here...that sounds interesting 🧐

mclaren too late we already sent them invites.

scuderiaferrari telling our drivers to crash into you.

ynnn ladies, ladies...relax ive got enough of me to have around 😏

amayamoore get out y/n 😭😭😭

mclaren we dont like to share.

user11 ik y/n got lost about 50 times im calling it

amayamoore more than that im afraid 😔

ynnn SHUT UP.

user11 LMFAOO

user3 oh so theyre on the low low i see

user4 PLSS YOU ARE NOT GIVING UP 😭😭

user3 THEYD BE CUTE TOGETHER LET ME BE DELUSIONAL 😭😭😭

user7 NAH FR THOO

charles_leclerc soo...how long are you staying for?

carlossainz55 you did not.

charles_leclerc 😇😇😇

georgerussell63 shes WAY out of your league leclerc. anyways how long though? 😉

alex_albon lily told me to tell you guys to stay away from her. she got suspended for 3 hours from commenting bad stuff about you guys.

amayamoore lily also told me to tell you guys to get out of y/ns comment section

ynnn LMFAOO LILY NAURRRR 😭😭😭

charles_leclerc never answered our question...

ynnn a while leclerc.

maxverstappen1 did anyone else hear a yell from mclarens garage or was it just me?

mclaren 🤫🤫🤫

user12 NOT A MCLAREN DRIVER GETTING EXPOSED BY MAX 😭😭

user3 I WONDER WHICH ONE 💀

user13 PIASTRI MAYBE??

user14 NOOO IT DEF HAS TO BE LANDO

user5 watch it be an engineer

oscarpiastri it was nice talking to you, ill show you around yeah?

ynnn YES PLSSS 😊😊

landonorris wow ok

charles_leclerc i know right. FROM MY OWN SON.

ynnn ???

oscarpiastri theyre being dramatic. dont mind them 🙄

---

oscarpiastri posted on their story !

👁️ 782,173

landonorris replied to oscarpiastris story

landonorris OSCAR.

oscarpiastri LANDO.

landonorris THIS IS TRULY OPP BEHAVIOUR.

oscarpiastri what do you mean lando?

landonorris I CANT BELIEVE YOU DIDNT INVITE ME...

landonorris I LITERALLY COULDVE HAD A CONVO WITH HER OSC.

oscarpiastri lando you had 6 chances and you ran away every time...

landonorris anyways...next time..for sure....

oscarpiastri okay lando we will see...

---

oscarpiastri

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, ynnn, and 812,173 others

oscarpiastri am i the best guide ever or what? 😄

tagged: ynnn

View all 161,172 comments

---

ynnn YOU ARE NOT. ❤ by author

ynnn YOU PUSHED ME TO THE BUSHES

oscarpiastri THAT WAS BY ACCIDENT. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A LIGHT SHOVE SINCE THERE WAS SOMEBODY RUNNING YOUR WAY 😔

ynnn UH HUH WTV EXCUSES EXCUSES. 😒

landonorris yeah dont listen to him he told me he did it on purpose

oscarpiastri I DID NOT 😟

ynnn WOWWWW. WOWWWWWWWWW.

user3 k chat...maybe her and lando arent dating...maybe its her and piastri...

user4 HAVE FAITH STAND YOUR GROUND 😭😭

user3 I WILL. THANK YOU 🫡

user14 yn and the mclaren drivers. never knew i needed them till now 😩

user15 NAH CUZ FR?? THE CHEM.

---

ynnn

Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, amayamoore, and 826,173 others

ynnn you can tell who kidnapped me this time. (also peep oscars stance 😭)

tagged: amayamoore, oscarpiastri, landonorris

View all 127,718 comments

---

user3 CHAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL 😨😨😨

user4 LMFAOO 😭😭😭

user3 LANDO IN THE LIKES??

user4 this is fr your moment girl 🙈🙈🙈

user14 OSCAR PLSSS LMFAOO ALSO LANDO AT THE LAST PHOTO 😭😭

mclaren will tell oscar to kidnap you again.

oscarpiastri already on it 🫡

scuderiaferrari we had her first :(

landonorris she looks way better in orange.

charles_leclerc nuh uh shes way better in red.

ynnn awhh guys fr theres enough of me around 🤭

amayamoore LMFAO I CANNOT W YOU 😭

oscarpiastri WHEN DID YOU TAKE THAT PHOTO

ynnn lets just say im in the shadows...

landonorris dont question her any further.

oscarpiastri what is going on 😞

landonorris I SAID DONT QUESTION HER.

ynnn thank you norris

landonorris anytime for you l/n 🫶

ynnn such a gentleman 🙈🫶

user3 GET IUT IF HERE IM GONNA PASS IUT

amayamoore they fr took my girl. 🙁

ynnn girl...YOU LEFT ME WITH THEM.

amayamoore OOPSIES. 🙈

lilymhe shes doing that thing again y/n

ynnn SHES DOING THE THING THING???? TO WHICH ONE!?!3$/&

lilymhe even i dont know 😟

ynnn 😨😨😨😨😨😨😨

amayamoore 😈😈😈😈

---

ynn

Liked by landonorris, osarpiastri, and 1,231,642 others

ynnn i like this guide way better. he doesnt push me into bushes. 🤍

tagged: landonorris

View all 233,123 comments

---

landonorris id never push a pretty lady like you into bushes. ❤️

ynnn so basically what youre saying is that if i was ugly you would?

landonorris that sounds impossible coming from you l/n.

ynnn why thank you norris 😊

lilymhe BOTH OF YOU GET UP RN.

lilymhe @/ynnn PLEASE STAND ON BUSINESS Y/N DONT PLAY W ME RN.

amayamoore LET HER SIT LILY 🤭🤭🤭

mclaren whatever amaya said. ❤️ by author

user3 I AM PEEING MYSELF RN.

user3 GUYS ITS HAPPENING...ITS HAPPENING DONT PANIC

user4 THIS IS SO YOUR MOMENT OMG IM ACTUALLY SO HAPPY FOR YOU

user3 MAYBE I WONT GET SENT TO AN ASYLUM

mclaren stop stealing our drivers 🙁

ynnn ill try my best 🫡

---

landonorris

Liked by ynnn, amayamoore, lilymhe, carlossainz55, and 1,854,321 others

landonorris shes my bestfriend now.

tagged: ynnn

View all 321,283 comments

---

amayamoore NUH UH.

lilymhe lando norris bites the curb in 4k ultra hd.

landonorris ALEX. SHES DOING IT AGAIN 😟

alex_albon i cant even help you w this one...im scared of her...

lilymhe stay quiet alex.

alex_albon 🤐🤐🤐

amayamoore she maybe your best friend but shes not yours.

landonorris she said i was 🙄

ynnn ONE of my bestfriends

landonorris now were lying now huh 😒

ynnn excuse me norris. i will make sure lilys statement becomes true

landonorris im sorry my lady 😞❤️

ynnn good. ❤️

charles_leclerc guys go to your dms before i cry.

georgerussell63 fr im gonna start bawling. we lost a baddie 😔

ynnn what are you guys even talking about...

oscarpiastri dont even worry about them

carlossainz55 i agree with oscar

mclaren shocker...coming from carlos

scuderiaferrari what a moment

user4 @/user3 are you alive?

user3 i think i fr passed out when i swiped and saw her.

user12 GIRL DONT WORRY I PASSED OUT W YOU I THINK ALMOST BROKE MY NECK 😭😭

user3 i have a feeling chat. ❤️ by oscarpiastri, amayamoore, carlossainz55

user4 your feeling may come true soon.

user3 OSCAR, AMAYA, AND CARLOS J LIKED MY COMMENT SOMETHING IS BREWING.

user12 OMGOMGOMGOGMGOGMORBWHQ

user16 why is lando so fine?

user17 not lando being her personal photographer shes such a devourer for that 🙈

user18 both of them are so fine 😫😫😫

---

you were sitting on a swing on the beach waiting for lando to come back. it had been a few months since you and him started hanging out and became friends.

it wasnt surprising when you, along the way of you guys becoming close, started catching feelings for him. you were captivated by his charms, his beautiful and flirtatious personality, and those eyes that hold a million stars.

"y/n?" you hear a voice call out from behind you.

"yes, lan?" you respond back using his nickname.

"i got us some juice. they said these two were the top sellers." he hands you one as he sits down.

"oooo these look good. what flavour is this one?" you ask him waiting to take a sip.

"i think that ones called 'golden sun', it has pineapple, orange, and mango im pretty sure." he answers.

you take a sip from your juice and you were met with a wonderful taste. sweet and sour, but savory as well.

"is it good?" he asks as you eagerly nod your head.

"of course!! you can never go wrong with mango." you answer taking another sip from your juice, "whats yours called?"

"mines called 'starfish dreams', i think it has strawberry, kiwi, peach, and pineapple. not quite sure, but its good. sweet with a hint of sourness." he answers, "wanna try mine?"

"yes!! that sounds equally as good! you can try mine as well." he was ready to give you his cup and you suddenly had an idea.

you grabbed his and gave him yours and then you grabbed his arm making him give you a confused look until he realized what you were doing.

"ohhhh..." he sighs in relief, "i thought i did something wrong for a second."

you laugh out loud at the thought of him being concerned for a second.

"no, no, i just need a nice pic for the gram since you took all of the ones i was gonna post." you give him a side eye as you take out your phone for a picture.

"you snooze you lose." he sticks his tongue out at you, to which you do back.

after you snapped a couple photos, you guys go back to having a conversation about how pretty the view was at night.

"it was really nice of you to invite me here." you say to him as he looks at you.

"im glad i grew the balls to ask you to hangout with me when nobody was willing to," he chuckles, "i wouldve been alone today."

"oh so basically what youre saying is that i was the last option?" you joke around waiting for his response.

"no, no, no...not like that. more like you were the scariest option on the list." he says as you give him a look.

"how? im not that scary looking...right?" you ask him as he violently shakes his head.

"obviously not...i meant–ughhh...what i meant was you were only the scariest option on the list because i was afraid youd reject me." he spews out.

"reject you? why would you think that?" you give him a more confused look.

"because compared to me, i am definitely way out of your league," you look at him in the eyes as he looks away, "youre just too beautiful, refreshing, fun to be around, and youre just so charming. after our first lunch together, i kept thinking about you and how it was impossible to love somebody at first sight, but it was definitely possible and im the living proof of it."

"is this you confessing your love for me, norris?" you ask him as he finally looks into your eyes.

"yeah...i guess it is." he looks at your face for any sort of reaction, but all you did was look into his eyes which made him nervous.

all the nervousness he had were washed away from his body in seconds after you leaned in and gave him a kiss, to which he reciprocated.

"i feel the exact same way, lan." you give him a smile as you give him another kiss.

both of you guys spent your night at the swing looking at the stars, talking about random things that you both were interested in, and getting in the water for a little swim; soaking in each others love for one another.

---

ynnn

Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 923,213 others

ynnn the beach at night>>>

View all 162,172 comments

---

amayamoore idk how you guys can get into the water at night. it gives me the creeps...😟

ynnn its j so relaxingggg maya 🙁

amayamoore THE SHARKS.

lilymhe REAL.

landonorris beach at nights>>>

ynnn YHHH>>>

user19 who is the dude?

user3 according to my calculations, lando norris. 🤓☝️

user4 😭😭😭

user20 the view!???!? 🙈🙈

ynnn had the best view ever 🤫

landonorris i had an even better view.

charles_leclerc if you ever need another tour guide im still an option 😊

scuderiaferrari even im starting to feel bad...

carlossainz55 me and you both.

georgerussell63 me too!! im still an option! 😚

mercedesamgf1 george...

user21 IM CRYING 😭😭

user1 they are not giving up 😭

---

ynnn posted on their story !

👁️ 934,283

amayamoore replied to ynnns story

amayamoore OMG YOU FINALLY BOUGHT A CAR??

ynnn YESSSS

amayamoore so im guessing lando helped you w that huh? 😉

ynnn ....

amayamoore HAHDHAHAH GIRL CANNOT LIE TO SAVE HER LIFE 😭😭

ynnn NAW CUZ HOWD YK THO...

amayamoore girl be fr...it was either oscar or him. last time i checked you were w lando 🙄

ynnn anyways...🤐

amayamoore yeah exactly. also check the gc xoxo

---

f1wagnews

Liked by user21, user3, user4, and 102,232 others

f1wagnews alert: lando norris sighted snuggling and kissing with an unknown girl!

View all 11,232 comments

---

user3 oh thats not...!!

user4 I GENUINELY CANT TELL IF THATS Y/N OR NOT...

user3 ME NEITHER 😭😭

user9 it is definitely not y/n guys 💀

user5 fr everyones being so delusional

user9 that is not y/n for everyone being delusional out there 🤣

user3 IT HAS TO BE

---

you and lando laugh together as you both read the comments of the new post created by f1wagnews.

"i would soft launch but it would be a little suspicious and obvious..." you say to him as he laughs.

"i told you hard launching would be the only way. considering the fact we already had a rumor around us." he tells you as you give him a look.

"i guess so. also im only hard launching to prove user9 and user5 wrong. trying to make user3s and user4s day since theyve been rooting for us." you say as he laughs, "you gotta do it with me tho, i have a plan."

---

ynnn

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, mclaren, amayamoore, and 2,939,234 others

ynnn i only ride mclarens.

tagged: landonorris

View all 341,234 comments

---

landonorris so funny how im actually named mclarens 😘

ynnn you are so getting it tonight.

lilymhe Y/N.

amayamoore IM CRYING WHY IS SHE SO UNHINGED LILY 😭😭😭

lilymhe BECAUS EOF YOU

mclaren we didnt even read this.

mclaren CONGRATS!! 🍾 ❤️🧡 (were just gonna ignore the caption!)

ynnn thank you sm 😝 (enjoy it)

carlossainz55 HE DID IT???

landonorris and did.

ynnn bro confessed without knowing he confessed...

landonorris SSHHHHH

oscarpiastri HE FINALLY DEFEATED THE LANDO NO-RIZZ ALLEGATIONS‼️‼️

landonorris excuse me.

ynnn YHHH HE DEFEATED IT FINALLY!!!

landonorris EXCUSE ME.

user3 I FRICKING CALLED IT. YOU GUYS I CALLED IT!!! IM NOT CRAZY.

user3 @/user4 WHERE ARE YOU...WE DID IT!!!

user4 WOOOOHOOOO FINALLLYYYYYYJAHWH

ynnn you guys are the og believers.

landonorris y/n only hard launched because of you guys fyi

user3 OMGOMGOSN IM GONNA PASS OUT.

user4 THEY KNOW WE EXIST @/user3

charles_leclerc so im guessing you dont need another tour guide 😕

ynnn sorry charles...ive already got the best tour guide around ❤️

landonorris my loveee ❤️❤️❤️

maxverstappen1 do you guys hear sobbing from ferraris garage and mercedes?

scuderiaferrari yeah...dont worry about it.

mercedesamgf1 the weather is nice today...

amayamoore that caption is insane.

lilymhe WHAT IM SAYING BRO.

ynnn 🙄🙄🙄

---

landonorris

Liked by ynnn, carlossainz55, mclaren, lilymhe, amayamoore and 3,343,964 others

landonorris hi, im mclarens.

tagged: ynnn

View all 394,934 comments

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ynnn hi mclarens!!! 🙈🙈🙈

landonorris hey there beautiful lady 😍

georgerussell63 theyre so cute im gonna vomit.

mclaren beat the no-rizz and no-wins allegations!!! thats our driver!! 🧡 (still gonna ignore the caption)

landonorris it was y/ns idea believe it or not.

ynnn SHUT UP.

oscarpiastri i just put two and two together with their captions. i wanna bleach my eyes now.

carlossainz55 i just told my teammate to look at their captions and he started sobbing more. 😂😂😂

lewishamilton i dont think my teammate figured it out yet 😅

lewishamilton nvm 😭😭

maxverstappen1 yeah we can hear them all sobbing...

maxverstappen1 congrats mate!! you finally have balls now!!

landonorris last time i checked ive had balls my entire life.

maxverstappen1 idk about that mate

landonorris ask my mother or y/n

ynnn idrk lando...ive only known of their existence since last week...

charles_leclerc KEEP IT IN THE DMS. IVE GOT NO TEARS LEFT TO CRY 😭

ynnn okay ariana grande 😭😭

amayamoore KEEP THAT INFORMATION TO YOURSELVES.

lilymhe we did not wanna hear about what you two did last week.

user3 THE MATCHING CAPTIONS AGAIN 😭😭

user4 theyre so iconic for that tbh. the first time they were put in an article together it was because of their captions being accidentally matching and now its actually real. 😭

user3 genuinely brings tears to my eyes.

user22 theyre so cuteee 🤍🤍

charles_leclerc i think im done crying.

ynnn ill buy you some lec ice cream to make you feel better. 🫶

charles_leclerc thank you 🥹🫶

landonorris and what if i tell you ill eat all of it before it gets to you.

charles_leclerc that might be my 13th reason.

ynnn 😭😭

scuderiaferrari please give our driver a break.

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authors note(s): this is my first smau so i hope it isnt booty cheeks. i literally started tweaking after trying to do the instagram post layout properly 😭😭

hope you guys enjoyed this and maybe ill make more in the future xoxo

#formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smau #smau #f1 smau #charles leclerc #landonorris #lando norris x reader

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juliettejwnewinesa · 2 months ago

Note

ily please make seongje x forgein reader

ILY TOO 😭🫶 Okay YES. its giving hongdae guy even more

Title: “In Your Corner” Pairing: Seongje x foreign!reader Tags: fluff, slow burn tension, language barrier, protectiveness, soft smut teasing, gym setting POV: 3rd person, female reader

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The first time Seongje saw her, she was taping someone’s wrist too slow.

Not wrong. Just slow.

Her brow furrowed in concentration, lips pressed tight as she tried to follow the trainer’s instructions in half-understood Korean. She nodded too eagerly, smiled too politely, and flinched every time someone shouted across the gym. Definitely not from around here.

Seongje leaned on the ropes and watched, head cocked.

“New manager?” he asked no one in particular.

“Foreign intern,” the trainer muttered back. “Be nice.”

He didn’t answer. Just kept watching.

That night, she tripped over a weight and almost went down. He caught her arm before she hit the mat. Her eyes went wide—shocked. His grip didn’t loosen.

“조심해,” he said flatly. Be careful.

“I’m trying,” she muttered, a bit breathless.

He didn’t let go immediately.

At first, she avoided him.

Too intense. Too unreadable. Always staring from the corner of the ring like he was judging everyone and everything.

But then one night, it rained.

The others cleared out, and she stayed back, mopping up the floors. She didn't notice him still there, shirt damp with sweat, sitting on a bench and wrapping his own knuckles.

“You mop like you fight,” he said suddenly.

She jumped. “I—I don’t fight.”

He smirked. “Exactly.”

She should’ve been offended. But then she saw it—the tiny curl of amusement on his lips. A tease.

“Maybe I should fight,” she shot back. “I’m learning.”

His eyes flicked down, slowly, from her face to her hands.

“Your stance is terrible.”

And just like that, he stood, came up behind her, and kicked her feet apart gently with his own. Moved her arms. Straightened her back.

“Like this.”

His breath was warm near her neck.

She swallowed. “…You always train this close?”

He didn’t answer.

But his hands didn’t move, either.

Days passed. She got used to him.

Used to him handing her water bottles without asking. Used to him grunting in approval when she got her Korean right. Used to the fact that whenever a guy got too flirty near her locker, Seongje would appear out of nowhere.

And one night, when she asked him why he always did that, he just said:

“They don’t speak your language. But I do.”

That shut her up for a long second.

“...You barely talk to me.”

“I listen.”

They didn’t kiss until late one night.

The gym lights were off. Only the emergency bulbs lit the hall. She was organizing tape boxes when he cornered her, one hand braced on the wall, the other brushing her hair back behind her ear.

“You work too hard.”

“You train too hard.”

He smirked. “We’re the same.”

She laughed nervously. “No, we’re not.”

“Don’t want to be?”

“…What do you mean?”

His fingers traced her jaw. “I can show you.”

He kissed her like she was something soft. Something breakable. Despite everything—the coldness, the silence, the sharpness—his mouth moved slow, warm against hers. Like he didn’t want to scare her.

And when her hand gripped his shirt and he groaned just a little into the kiss—she realized something:

He’d been holding back this whole time.

Later, when he sat her down on his lap in the locker room, her thighs on either side of his, his knuckles resting on the backs of her knees—

“You're not scared of me?”

She shook her head.

He smiled, just a little.

“Then stay.”

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tonfairy · 2 months ago

Text

Too Tired to Hate You

pairing : academic rival! anton x fem! reader

genre : academic rivalry, angst, slow burn, mutual pining, light romance

cw : mention of anxiety, nothing explicit just making out ! | wc : 2k

💌 : hi ! sorry for not updating for like 2 weeks </3 i've been resting... and THANK U GUYS SM FOR 100 !! 🥹🩷 so so grateful for every one of u 🫶🏼🫂 (proofread, enjoy!)

It’s a regular Thursday afternoon—just another lecture, no big tests, no surprises. But for you, everything feels like it’s caving in. Your vision blurs, your thoughts twist into tangled knots of deadlines and expectations. The classroom hums with idle chatter, but in your mind? It’s turmoil. Academic pressure. Anxiety. Burnout. And worst of all, your inner voice— relentless, unforgiving.

Your heart thuds unevenly, the familiar knot of anxiety tightening. You tell yourself this classroom is just a battleground to survive — not a place for weakness. But part of you wishes someone could see past the cold walls you’ve built.

You’re welcomed by the cold, fresh air you’ve been craving all day. It feels like a breath of life. The rooftop—rarely visited by other students and tucked away from where students usually pass—is your secret escape, your quiet place to breathe and let go.

This rooftop isn’t just a place to escape noise. It’s where the suffocating expectations fade into the background—where you can remember how to just be.

You sit on one of its rusty chairs, gazing at the now glowing city, the traffic, and the restless night. Breathing in deeply, you close your eyes and let the negativity drain from you, just feeling the moment, for once.

For a brief moment, you think maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to hold it all together. You stay like that for a while, until the soft creak of the rooftop door breaks the silence. Someone else has come up. You turn slightly; there he is, Anton Lee, your long-time rival.

You hadn’t expected anyone here. Not him.

You’ve hated each other for years—known across campus for your fiery debates, dramatic eye-rolls during shared lectures, and snide remarks at student council meetings. You, a Chemistry major from the Science and Technology Department, and Anton Lee, an Interdisciplinary Studies student from the IS Department, couldn’t be more different in your approaches, priorities, or personalities.

Anton is known for being approachable—easygoing, friendly, the kind of person who gets along with everyone, from professors to freshmen. He thrives in group discussions and knows how to charm a room. You, on the other hand, are often seen as cold and arrogant. You’re serious, focused, and don’t waste time on small talk or appearances. In reality, you’re not arrogant at all—just guarded, overwhelmed, and constantly trying to live up to the weight of your own expectations.

And yet, somehow, you keep ending up in the same rooms, on the same panels, across from each other at every competition that matters.

Your departments have become unofficial rivals because of you two—students taking sides, professors pretending not to, and every academic event turning into a quiet battlefield.

But beneath the rivalry lies burnout. Exhaustion. The crushing weight of always needing to perform, to win, to be the best. Neither of you knows how to stop running.

He steps out into the cold night air. His hoodie is barely enough against the chill, but he doesn’t care—he needs air, needs quiet. The weight of back-to-back presentations and late-night study sessions presses against his ribs like a vice.

He hadn’t expected anyone to be here, especially not you. Seeing you like this, so raw and vulnerable, unsettles something deep inside him. Maybe you aren’t the enemy. He hadn’t expected anyone to be there. But you are. Sitting there like you belong to the night. Like you needed this place just as much as he does.

“You lost, Lee?” you say without glancing his way.

Anton smirks, brushing a hand through his hair. “Didn’t realize you owned the sky now, Y/N.”

You finally turn, eyebrows raised. “I don’t need to own it. Just need to escape it—something you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, please,” he says, stepping closer, voice low. “You act like Chemistry’s so high and mighty. But it’s all formulas and memorization, stuck in a lab while the rest of us actually think outside the box.”

Your lips curl into a sharp smile. “At least I’m not juggling a million half-baked ideas with no real focus. Interdisciplinary Studies? More like ‘indecisive studies.’”

Anton’s smirk falters for a moment, but he masks it quickly. “Better to be indecisive than stuck pretending to be a scientist. Don’t think those equations will save you when burnout hits.”

You match his gaze. “Maybe. But unlike you, I’m used to pressure. Maybe that’s why you’re always one step behind.”

He lets out a low laugh, shakes his head. “Keep telling yourself that, formula martyr.”

Then, without another word, he walks over and sits a few feet away from you. “I didn’t come here to talk to you.”

You don’t respond, but don’t tell him to leave, either.

Silence stretches between you, tight and strange. Not hostile, but not quite comfortable either. The kind of silence that settles between two people who are too tired to keep fighting, but too proud to admit they understand each other.

The silence is heavier than your words, filled with unspoken exhaustion. For once, neither of you feels the need to armor up.

“Do you ever… feel like you can’t breathe down there?” Anton asks suddenly, his voice lower now, stripped of its usual sharpness.

You don’t answer right away. Your gaze stays fixed on the skyline, but your posture shifts—tense, exposed.

“Every day,” you say finally, barely above a whisper. “But you wouldn’t get it.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you debated pushing him away. But maybe, just maybe, someone else feeling this same weight means you’re not as alone as you thought.

“Why? Because I smile too much?”

“Because people like you don’t need to prove anything. You’re already liked. Me? I only get noticed when I’m flawless.”

That hits deeper than either of you expected.

Anton turns to face you, brows drawn. “Is that what you think of me? That I have it easy?”

You look at him now—really look. His eyes aren’t smiling. Not tonight. There are dark circles under them, and tension in his jaw.

“I think,” you say carefully, “we’re both really good at pretending.”

“Sometimes I think… if I stop trying to be everything, I’ll disappear.”

The wind picks up, tugging at your clothes, your composure.

Anton stands and walks to the edge, leaning forward just slightly, hands on the cold railing.

“You ever wonder,” he says, “what it’d feel like to not compete? With anyone? Just… exist.”

You join him quietly, shoulder to shoulder. The warmth of him surprises you.

“I don’t remember what that feels like,” you admit.

Anton lets out a slow breath. “Maybe we forgot how.”

You glance sideways. “Or maybe no one ever taught us how to stop.”

He doesn’t say anything right away. But when he does, it’s not with sarcasm or defensiveness—just quiet truth.

“Maybe we can teach each other.”

He’s not sure what that means exactly. But for the first time in a long time, the idea of letting down his guard doesn’t seem so impossible.

He looks at you, and this time, you meet his gaze. No walls. No armor. Just… quiet.

Without thinking—without planning—he leans in.

You don’t pull away.

Your lips brush his, soft and sure, and something in his chest breaks open.

The kiss is brief. Barely a moment. But it hits. Like breathing for the first time in weeks.

The kiss isn’t sudden—it’s inevitable, like breath finding lungs.

The kiss deepens.

But not fast.

Just full—like you’re pouring months of unspoken feelings into every movement. Your hand slides into his hair, fingertips gentle at the nape of his neck, and Anton lets out the smallest sound, like he can’t breathe unless he’s touching you.

Your fingers weave into his hair—not to draw him nearer, but as if you’re grounding yourself in something tangible.

Your mouths move like muscle memory. Like you’ve done this in another life.

His hand cradles your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as if you might vanish.

Then his other arm wraps around your waist, tentative at first, seeking permission. When you don’t pull away, he pulls you closer, anchoring you to him like he’s been waiting years just to hold you.

You melt into the space between you, fingers curling tighter in his hair, lips parting slightly as your rhythm discovers a new depth—slow and searching. No rush. No pressure. Just quiet intensity.

Your breath hitches when he kisses the corner of your mouth, slow and reverent. You respond in kind, grazing his lower lip with yours, lingering, as if you want to memorize the shape of him.

Your foreheads touch between kisses, breaths mingling. Your hand slides down to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beat beneath your palm—mirroring your own.

The world blurs around you. This isn’t just a break from the pressure—it’s an admission you’ve been craving connection, even from your fiercest rival. Maybe the fight isn’t what you really needed.

His usual smirk fades, replaced by something softer, desperate. Holding you close isn’t about rivalry anymore—it’s about finding a lifeline in the chaos.

For a moment, nothing else exists. Not the pressure. Not the rivalry. Not the world below.

Maybe this rooftop’s the only place you’ve ever felt real. Just this rooftop. This moment. This softness between you that you never knew you needed.

You stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other. Not saying anything. Not needing to.

The rooftop wind presses against your back, cool and restless, but between you is warmth, steady, anchoring. Your forehead rests against Anton’s, your fingers still curled lightly in his hoodie now, grounding yourself in the feel of him.

Eventually, you pull back just slightly, just enough to see his face. His eyes are half-lidded, dazed in a way that makes something flutter low in your stomach.

“That was stupid,” you murmur, but your voice lacks conviction.

Anton lets out a small breath—half a laugh, half a sigh. “No. It wasn’t.”

Neither moves to fix it.

You look away first, blinking out at the city. Lights flicker like stars, far too many to count. “What does this mean?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just reaches up and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with the gentlest touch, like you might vanish if he’s too rough with the moment.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But… I’m tired of pretending I hate you.”

He realizes how exhausting it is to keep up the act of hatred. Maybe this fragile, unexpected connection is the only thing that could give him peace.

You snort, dry and soft. “You’ve been very convincing.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, smiling faintly, “so were you.”

You stand in silence again, but this time it feels different—less tight, more open. The kind of quiet that follows a confession.

“I’m still mad at you,” you say, not quite seriously.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For existing. For being everywhere I turn. For being good at everything without even trying.”

He grins. “I do try, you know. I’m just subtle about it.”

You roll your eyes, but it lacks venom. “Infuriating.”

“And yet, here you are. Not running away.”

Your expression softens. “I think I’m tired of running too.”

Anton leans in again, just enough to brush his lips against your temple. It’s not a kiss so much as a thank-you.

Then, without asking, he tugs you into a full hug, arms wrapping around you like he doesn’t trust the night not to take you back. You hesitate a second, then let yourself fold into it, resting your cheek against his chest.

“You’re warm,” you mutter.

He chuckles into your hair. “That’s because I’m emotionally well-adjusted.”

You snort. “You’re literally clinging to me on a rooftop. That’s not emotional stability, that’s a crisis cuddle.”

Anton grins, not letting go. “I prefer ‘therapeutic affection.’”

You roll your eyes again, but your hands stay at his back, fingers gently gripping his hoodie.

“…Gross.”

“And yet,” he murmurs into your hair, “you’re still hugging me.”

You don’t reply. You don’t have to.

Because for the first time in forever, you don’t feel like you have to prove anything. Not to him. Not to yourself.

For once, you don’t have to be perfect to be wanted.

This time, you let yourself feel the delicate ease of simply being—no expectations, no pretending, only this moment.

And that feels like a beginning.

-end-

thank you so much for reading ! ❤️‍🩹

#riize anton #anton lee #lee chanyoung #anton fanfic #anton soft hours #anton angst #anton x reader #anton imagines #riize #riize imagines #riize x reader #yubi's library 📚#tonfairy's writings ✍🏼🧚🏼‍♀️#tonfairy 🧚🏼‍♀️

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bucketbueckers · 8 months ago

Text

LAYUPS & LAYOVERS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

content warnings: language, fluff, author is southern and doesn't understand how snow or marketing works, plot where there doesn’t need to be plot

synopsis: It’s Christmas Eve and you’re in Connecticut, exhausted and just trying to get to Minnesota for a work conference. You could cry when it’s announced that all flights are being halted due to the incoming blizzard. Irritated, tired, and overworked, you pray for a miracle, although it takes an unnatural shape in the form of a six foot blonde athlete who’s just trying to make it home, too. Late night airport conversations lead to something more.

notes: merry christmas eve from my delusions to yours! the last chapter of irp was super heavy so here's my apology and christmas gift (do i drop another one tmr...i really dont wanna write chapter 8 😩). i hope you all enjoy this short n sweet lil ramble i threw together and happy holidays 🫶

This can not be your life right now.

It’s actually kind of impressive how all of the stars aligned on this one particular night to fuck you over. You’re not a terrible person. You hold the doors for everyone, give up your seat on the bus for sweet old ladies, and you always allocate a portion of your paychecks to donate to Wikipedia. By all accounts, you should be overwhelmed with good karma, although it seems your luck has depleted on this night and this night alone.

It all started on the 20th when you flew out to Connecticut. You work a cushy job as a marketing consultant for the WNBA, which means you spend a lot of time in the air and across the country trying to unfuck – sorry, trying to optimize and rejuvenate – the state of the league and its teams. It’s a task easier said than done. Nobody seems to want to listen to you until they realize that your master’s degrees in marketing and business analytics actually mean something and aren’t just really expensive pieces of paper that you hang in your office. You spend a couple of days in Uncasville talking strategies to boost ticket sales and to gain more traction; they’re the only professional team the state has – it should not be hard to get people to show up if you can market it right, but here you are.

Connecticut is nearly a bust. It’s cold and you spend two full days in meetings getting talked over by men who think they understand numbers and branding. Then, on the third day, the front office suddenly realizes what you’ve been talking about (this shit was covered in your sophomore year intro to marketing class, but hey, the less people know, the more you get paid, so who’s really complaining?) and the trajectory of your trip makes a sudden turnaround. On the 23rd and early on the 24th, you help the Sun roll out the new optimizations, and what do you know? Ticket sales surge by 17%, including some season tickets, all is well in the world and it’s a goddamn Christmas miracle.

Then, all is suddenly not well and you remember that Christmas miracles are for people not surrounded by idiots. Your boss emails you just before you leave for the airport: The Lynx need your help. I’ve sent you tickets for the first flight out of Connecticut. Meet with them on the 26th. Said “flight” departs from Connecticut at 8:30pm on Christmas Eve, which means you’re not even in Minnesota until 12am if you’re lucky, which means you have to figure out hotel arrangements so you can take a nap because you’ve barely slept in five days, which means you have to figure out how to be nice to people again because the Sun front office has you pissed all the way the fuck off.

So, you’re tired, overworked, extremely irritated, and hungry, although that last problem is solved by airport Subway. You just hope that doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass, either – you firmly believed that you were better off betting all of your money on black rather than taking the chance on airport food, but you didn’t have much of a choice and your stomach was growling. You eat, settling in a chair at your gate, and patiently await for your plane to arrive.

Then, the overhead PA clicks on with some static noise, announcing, “Flight 932 to Minneapolis and all other flights exiting Hartford will be delayed due to inclement weather. I repeat–”

The blood rushes to your head. Your eye twitches. There’s a crying baby somewhere in the airport and you can’t take it anymore. Honestly, what’s stopping you? Flying a plane cannot be that difficult. You’re pretty persuasive. You can tell TSA you’re just young for a pilot and you’re not wearing a pilot’s uniform because it’s Christmas Eve and what are you, the feds? All you’re really asking for at this point is a nap but there’s no way in hell you’re making it to a hotel in these conditions and the chances of you sleeping in an airport with all of your belongings out for someone to grab are even lower.

A commotion towards the check in counter commands your attention. You turn, dreading the eventual crash out of an airport Karen, but it’s better than the crying baby who still hasn’t shut the fuck up.

“Please, there’s gotta be something else you can do,” a tall, broad-shouldered blonde is begging, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. “It’s Christmas Eve, I have to get home.”

The lady at the check in counter sounds sympathetic when she responds. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but our hands are tied. We can’t send our planes out in this weather, but if it eases up, the next flight out should have you arriving in Minneapolis by tomorrow afternoon.”

You hear the blonde groan, her tone sounding something like, I can’t fucking believe this is my life, which is a sentiment you whole-heartedly agree with. “Can you please lemme know if there’s anything earlier?” she pleads. “Like, if by the grace of God this weather clears and we can leave sooner.”

“Of course, ma’am. All updates will be announced.”

The response is almost robotical, but you can tell the receptionist is trying her best, too, and the last place she wants to be is hanging out at the airport on Christmas Eve. The blonde sighs, thanking her, and from the corner of your eye, you watch her hike her bag up over her shoulder and she moves to sit directly in front of you. That’s when you truly get a good look at her, at the dejected blue of her eyes, the chisel of her jaw, the logo on her hoodie. Paige Bueckers is no stranger to you. You grew up watching ball, so obviously you’re familiar with her game – any self-respecting basketball fan is. But by virtue of your job, Paige Bueckers is a name that makes your marketing heart beat just a little faster. Ever since Dallas won the lottery, you’ve been all over their marketing team. Paige’s entire existence and the chance she gets drafted to Dallas is the sole reason the Wings’ tickets are flying off the shelves. She’s the most marketable college athlete there is right now, one of the top rookie prospects for the league, but one look at her face in person and you’re forgetting all about your job. Her jaw is tight with a simmering anger, and honestly, you feel terrible for her – she already spends so much time away from her family and here she is trying to get out of Bumfuck, Connecticut, so she can be home in time for Christmas.

You find a little bit of bravery when you raise your voice slightly to ask her, “No luck?”

She looks up, glancing at you and taking in your features, and laughing slightly when she realizes you’re genuinely just trying to make conversation and not trying to get a soundbite out of her. “You heard that?” she asks sheepishly, sinking a little in her seat to get comfortable. You pretend to not notice her manspread.

“Well,” you begin, glancing over at the receptionist. “The desk is like, ten feet away.” She laughs again and nods, murmuring touche under her breath. “932 Minneapolis?” you ask, referring to your flight.

Paige nods again, quirking a smile. “You stalking me or sum’?”

You shrug your shoulders, a coy smile on your face. “Just observant,” you quip.

Paige grins fully. “What about you?” she asks. “You work for the league?”

At that, you can’t help your surprise, raising a brow. “How’d you know that?”

“Just observant,” she throws your words back at you. You laugh. “Kidding. I see your ID pokin’ out of your bag. You from here, or they got you workin’ on the holidays?”

“Work,” you respond. Paige whistles lowly. “I’m a marketing consultant. Been up here for a few days working with the Sun, then I’m heading to Minnesota to fix the Lynx’s bullshit.” You blink, registering your words, blushing as Paige laughs. “You did not hear that. I’m usually nicer to my employers.”

“They got you workin’ and flyin’ out on Christmas Eve,” Paige points out. “You should be meaner.”

You incline your head in a nod, huffing. “All of this for office potlucks and dental coverage,” you joke. “Don’t quit basketball.” Paige grins again and you’re suddenly reminded of your manners. “Sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself.” You do as such, only mildly surprised when she stands to shake your hand and introduces herself, too, which is honestly kind of endearing. Then, she plops into the empty seat next to yours, smiling widely.

“So, marketing consultant,” she says, her tone nonchalant as she gets comfortable next to you, extending her long legs across her suitcase. “How often will I get to see you?”

You glance at her, raising a wry eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me?” you ask.

Paige shrugs a shoulder, smirking. “A little. Is it working?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit. You can see the pride that shines in her eyes. You roll your eyes in amusement, still in slight disbelief, but you redirect back to her question. “Honestly, probably a lot. The league is super messy from a business perspective and their actual marketing sphere isn’t that great, either. As soon as you get drafted I’ll probably have to fly down to whichever poverty team you land at and teach them how to market you.”

“Yeah?” she asks, and despite the tease in her tone, she does seem interested. “How would you market me?”

“How much time do you have?”

“Well…” Paige glances down to her watch, then out the windows where snow falls in heavy sheets. “Looks like a lot.”

You snicker. “Alright. Bear with me, okay?” Paige nods in earnest, her attention fully on you as you begin to ramble. Truthfully, you did like your job when you were able to do it. The issue is and always will be the idiots you have to work with who overlook your credentials. “So, I’m not thinking about your personal brand at all. Like, that one’s already incredible. Your PR team did their big one with you. But the issue with athletes like you, wide-eyed and fresh out of college with an insane resume of endorsements, followers, deals, whatever – the issue is that whatever team you get drafted to is gonna want to rebuild their entire image around you. Think Clark, Brink, Reese, Jackson, Cardoso. It’s textbook – you advertise the person who’s gonna get you the most clicks, the most sales. So, how can we use that to actually grow the game, the league? I’m talking about longevity. There’s so many people tuning in for you that don’t know shit about basketball, and honestly, they’re gonna be scared to ask questions.

“So we push something corny. Social media segments with a catchy name like Ball With Bueckers or some shit where you break down basketball plays, rules, the stuff you’re gonna see and hear when you watch a game. What’s a pick and roll? A screen? Why is she getting fouled for blocking that shot, isn’t that what she’s supposed to do? Education, interest, loyalty, and competition sells. Stories sell, too, which is why the league is still trying to push the Clark/Reese rivalry. That’s old news, though. A more compelling story would have been the Fever/Sun rivalry, especially after the Sun beat the Fever and the Fever hired their coach. Or Fever/Wings, for reasons I’m not gonna ruin your night with.” Paige laughs at that, and you smile, clearing your throat and trying to find your train of thought. “So, when I’m undoubtedly called in to fix your team’s mess, that’s what I’d be suggesting. People already love you. Using that connection to get them to love ball, too, is my goal.”

“You’re really passionate about this,” Paige comments, her lips quirking into a slight smile. You can’t help but preen a little, flushing. “Like, about basketball. You really care about the sport. Feels like that’s harder to find lately.”

“Well, I was too short to play it, so gotta settle for something, right?” you joke.

Paige looks you up and down. You’re wearing sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt from college, but her gaze is shameless, appreciative despite your casual airport wear. She chuckles, a disbelieving noise building in the back of her throat. “Nah. You’re what, 6’5?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Try a foot less. But I appreciate you for believing in me.”

Paige smiles, nudging you a little. “I was serious, though. You’re super passionate. I like that.”

“Still flirting?”

“S’not everyday you get snowed in at the airport with a pretty girl,” Paige says, her gaze warm, and you can’t help but blush again. “Gotta shoot my shot, you know?” She mimes throwing a ball, her wrist bent, and you shake your head fondly. Admittedly, she did have you – hook, line, and sinker. You enjoyed the conversation, her company. There were certainly worse people to be stuck with, but you’re glad it was with her.

You shrug your shoulders. “Shoot away,” you say. Her subsequent grin is wide and you find yourself drawn in just a little further.

She asks you virtually everything under the sun – where you grew up, where you went to college, the team you were rooting for, and you answer. You tell her you’re an Atlanta native, born and raised, although you moved up north to study at Columbia. You were 8 when the Dream was founded and that was your team, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. At 10, you watched them win the eastern conference finals on your birthday and that was easily the moment your life changed. Basketball was your future and that much was certain. She asks how you landed the league job (connections, a thick resume, and lots of persuading), how you adjusted to the constant traveling (lots of caffeine and really good concealer), and the hard-hitting question of, are you satisfied?

For that, you really had no answer. Sure, you’re always busy, and that’s better than the alternative of sitting in your office and watching the seconds tick by. You’re good at what you do and your job makes a positive impact on the league. Your colleagues will be who they are; your work speaks for itself and that’s what you pride yourself on. But there’s always going to be a small part of you that yearns for something more, like someone else to share your life with. Someone who sits, and listens, and engages with you; someone who loves basketball just as much as you do (even if it’s a different type of love), someone who’s steady and spontaneous and adaptable.

Then Paige is smiling at you, her gaze warm and soft despite the below freezing temperatures outside; she’s listening, and engaging, steady, spontaneous, adaptable, and probably the only person in the world whose love for basketball could rival your own. You’ve known Paige for all of three hours and it’s nearing midnight in an airport in Connecticut, but it’s Christmas Eve and she feels so right. You would really like to see where this goes, and judging by the way her fingertips brush your knuckles, you think she might like to see that, too.

The two of you talk all through the night, waiting for the weather to ease up. The conversation never slows and you’re certain you’ve never smiled or laughed this much in a long time. It takes you twelve hours of delirious conversation to realize that your luck never depleted. Paige was your overwhelming karma, sent by some sort of Christmas miracle to answer all of the wishes you’d kept to yourself for years. The stars aligned not to fuck you over, but to trap you in an airport with Paige Bueckers, and you find that she’s possibly the best Christmas gift you could have ever gotten.

When the weather finally clears and your plane arrives, you find that your seats are right next to each other – and, well, fate works in funny ways, doesn’t it? You’re both exhausted, but when she pushes the armrest up and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into your side, you can’t help your relieved sigh, leaning into her chest. You and Paige sleep through the entire flight. You dream of soft blue eyes, the lingering scent of her cologne, the promise of how this could last.

You land in Minneapolis and you eventually have to go your separate ways. The two of you exchange numbers, saying your goodbyes, although Paige doesn’t let you get anymore than three feet away from her before she’s catching you by the wrist and pulling you into her. Her hands are cold against your cheeks as she kisses you gently, something deep and lingering and a confirmation that tastes like ‘you and I aren’t done here.’ The falling snow lands gently on your cheeks, melting under the heat of your blush, and you can’t help your smile, interrupting your kiss as the both of you dissolve into laughter. Paige kisses you again, something softer that leaves you feeling warm all over despite the chill, and you thank your Christmas miracle for leading you here.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #uconn wbb #ncaa wbb

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