#me watching the first gif over and over and over

[a-s-ter]

Can you write type of guy headcanons for thanos (230) please? thx <33

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition) nsfw

English

Korean

Thanos / Player 230

—THANOS IS THE KIND OF GUY who’d shamelessly flirt with you, his words dripping with confidence and charm. He’d slip in Spanish pet names like "señorita" so naturally, it was as if he were born to sweep you off your feet.

There was one day when he suddenly dropped to his knees, a smirk dancing on his lips as he grabbed your hand gently. "I might just start my own religion, because of how often I find myself on my knees for you." He said as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt your face heat up, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks at the boldness of his actions.

He’d also call you every sweet name in the book—"baby," "angel," "princess," "beautiful"—each one rolling off his tongue with effortless confidence. And if that weren’t enough, he’d take it a step further, rapping his feelings for you in a way that was both cheesy and undeniably endearing.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d have a slow-burn romance without even realizing it. At first, it’s nothing more than casual interactions, small moments here and there. He doesn’t notice the shift—how his thoughts linger on you longer than they should, how he starts to care just a little bit more. It’s gradual, almost imperceptible, until one random moment hits him. Like it would suddenly click that he likes you. And now, he can’t stop thinking about it.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t give up on you, no matter how many times you ignored him. Your cold shoulder, your silence—it didn’t faze him. If anything, it only fueled his determination. He’d chase after you relentlessly, his confidence unwavering, his charm impossible to ignore, until you had no choice but to face him.

He spotted you weaving through the crowd, your determined strides screaming leave me alone. Naturally, that only made his grin wider. He adjusted his jacket, his confidence as unshakable as ever, and started after you.

"Señorita!" he called out, you didn’t even glance back at him, but when he saw your pace quicken, it only fueled his determination. He caught up easily, walking alongside you like he belonged there.

"Ah, playing hard to get? I like that," he teased, tilting his head to glance at you with that infuriatingly smug smile. "But you know, you make it way too easy for me to chase you baby. You’re irresistible."

You rolled your eyes and turned sharply, hoping to lose him in the crowd. But the next corner you turned, there he was—leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed, like he’d been waiting there all along.

"Miss me already?" he teased with a smirk, his body blocking your path. "You can run, but you can't hide princess. Not from me."

You tried to sidestep him, but before you could get far, he placed a hand dramatically over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch, breaking my heart like that? Really?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. "Just stop, I can’t stand you."

With a smirk that practically oozed confidence, he leaned in slightly, his voice teasing yet bold. "Then just sit on my face."

"W-what!?" You froze, eyes wide with shock, your heart pounding. "Just fuck off!" you snapped, brushing past him quickly, your face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

He chuckled, watching you retreat with that same infuriating smirk. But you knew, as much as you tried to get away, he wouldn’t stop. He was persistent, and no matter how many times you brushed him off, he’d keep following, keep bothering you.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t tolerate some random guy flirting with you. If he saw it happening, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in. He’d interrupt the conversation, push the guy back with a forceful shove, and growl, "Back off man! Who the fuck do you think you are hitting on my girl!?" (Yeah even tho you're not his yet)

If the guy was making you laugh or smile, he’d simmer in silence, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface. Once the guy was alone, he’d track him down, corner him, and with a dangerous edge to his voice, he’d lean in, his eyes burning with fury.

"Stay the fuck away from Y/n. Got it?" He said, his fist landing a brutal punch to the guy’s stomach, leaving him crumpled on the floor. "She’s my girl," he’d add, his tone low and possessive. "My woman."

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t help but yell, "Ah, there’s my girl!" with a huge grin spreading across his face when you made it out alive. Without a second thought, he’d rush to you, scoop you up in a tight embrace, and hold you like he’d never let go. "I’m so happy you're alive, baby. God, you don’t know how much I missed you." His grip would tighten as if to never let you slip away again.

—He’s the kind of guy who isn’t intimidated by you. He’ll rush toward you, full of energy, relieved that you made it through when the lights went out. While everyone else stood frozen in fear, staring in shock, you were casually wiping blood off your hands, having taken down a whole group without breaking a sweat.

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t believe he’s dating you after you finally accepted him. Like, a guy like him? Sure, he’s Thanos and pretty damn cool, but damn, you’re way cooler than him. So, every now and then, he’ll just blurt out, “Damn, I’m dating her?” when he thinks about you, or “I can’t believe she’s mine.” and his friend will just stare at him, completely weirded out.

—He's the kind of guy who's wildly in love with you, the type to fight a wild animal just to impress you. He lives to make you laugh, even if it means pulling off the dumbest, most ridiculous stunts. His love is chaotic, loud, and endlessly entertaining, but that's what makes it so unforgettable.

One day he tried to bake you a cake from scratch, only to set off the smoke alarm—but he still proudly presented you with the lopsided, half-burnt result, claiming it was "made with love." Or he'd show up at your door with a bouquet made of random wildflowers (and weeds), proudly declaring it’s “nature’s finest” while grinning like a fool.

—He’s the kind of guy who would let you paint his nails in any color you choose or decorate them however you like, all because he loves you and wants you to have that little piece of him.

—Thanos is the kind of guy who always needs to be in physical contact with you when you're together—his hand on your thigh, his arm around your shoulders. He craves that connection, that constant reassurance of your presence. Public displays of affection? He couldn’t care less. If you want him to kiss you in front of everyone, consider it done. If you mention he can kiss you after a game, why would he wait for privacy when he can claim you right in front of his friends? For him, it’s not just about the kiss—it’s about showing the world that you’re his and making sure you feel adored, no matter where you are.

—He’s the kind of guy who’s utterly captivated by your thighs, completely addicted to the way they feel wrapped around him. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, no place more intoxicating than being suffocated by your softness.

He doesn’t just admire them—he worships them. His lips leave a trail of love marks along your skin, his way of claiming every inch as his own. Between kisses, his voice comes out low and teasing, filled with desire. (He also loves eating you out while you're wrapping your thighs around his head and getting suffocated by it. )

—He’s the kind of guy who would cover you in hickeys, leaving them all over your neck and thighs, a clear sign that you’ve been claimed and are already his. With a smirk, he’d tell you he’s just marking his priority, as if every mark is a reminder of who you belong to.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d proudly show you off to his friends with a grin and say, “Yeah, this my girl right here.” And damn, he wouldn’t just say it—he’d feel like the luckiest guy alive to have you by his side.

—He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t just take you—he claims you. If he ever finds out you're with someone else, he'll make sure you remember exactly who you belong to.

Thanos' rough words dripped with condescension as he gripped your hips, pulling you onto his thick shaft in one brutal thrust. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pound into your mercilessly. "You're fucking mine, this fucking tight pussy is mine," he snarled, his balls slapping against your ass with each savage stroke. "This fat cock is the only thing you need. That pathetic loser can't touch this, can he?" He reached down to rub you clit, his fingers pinching the sensitive bud as he continued to ravage you. "Hngg!...—pls s'too much! too much! Thanos m'sorry p-please I w-won't do it again."

"Stop?" He chuckled, "We both know you love this. Being used like a cheap whore, stuffed full of dick. Admit it, you'd rather choke on my cum than go back to that limp-dicked loser."

—Hes the kind of guy who loves messy blow jobs. The sight of your lips stretched obscenely around his throbbing cock, your eyes glazed over in blissful submission, he fucking loves it. Loves how you surrendered completely, letting him control every movement as he fucks your mouth.

"Fuck... Your throat was made for my dick, wasn't it? Such a perfect fit, like you were born to worship my cock." he moaned, tangling his fingers in your hair and using your mouth like a cheap fleshlight as he chased his pleasure. The wet sounds of sloppy oral sex filled the air, punctuated by your muffled whimpers and gurgles. (Gosh he fucking loves that) "Fuck yes... hngg—take it baby, take it all, you filthy little cumdump!" His hips snapped forward, burying his cock to the hilt in your gullet while thick ropes of cum spilled in your mouth, forcing you to gag and sputter around his girth. "Look at you, such a good girl, gagging on my dick like it's your purpose in life. You were meant to be a cumdump, weren't you? Fucking slut."

—He's the kind of guy who loses his shit when you squirt into his mouth, he just fucking loves it when you're flooding his mouth with your ambrosial release. Saying "Holy shit," "I love you so fucking much baby," "Mmmm, you're fucking addictive as hell, baby. Can't get enough of this sweet juices." as he greedily laps up every drop. Just the taste of your squirting orgasm would send him into a fucking frenzy.

—He's the kind of guy who takes you apart piece by piece every time he gets you alone, his usual cruel exterior dissolving into raw, unbridled need. He doesn't just touch you—he worships you, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to draw out every moan, every shiver, every scream he can pull from you.

"You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum for me," he'd say, his voice dripping with hunger as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. His lips never leave your skin, trailing kisses and bites down your thighs, across your stomach, up to your neck.

"Look at you, spread open and dripping for me like the filthy little slut you are," he taunted, dragging a finger through your slick folds. "I bet all those prissy boys never made you feel this good, did they? They probably couldn't handle a real woman like you." he whispers, his breath hot against your ear as your body writhes beneath him. Even when your legs shake and your cries turn into breathless pleas, he doesn’t stop. He keeps you teetering on the edge, drawing out orgasm after orgasm until you’re left trembling, completely undone, and utterly his.

[thebarneschronicles]

Closer to Home

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Synopsis: As you settle into your new role as the team’s “girl in the chair,” helping Sam and Bucky with their missions, you find yourself increasingly drawn to Bucky's intense presence. His brooding silence is matched only by his watchful eyes, and despite his gruff exterior, your kindness begins to chip away at his walls. When Bucky insists on walking you home one night, clyou chalk it up to his old-fashioned sense of duty and think nothing of it. But as the night unfolds, you realize there’s far more behind his actions than just good manners, and your growing feelings for him may not be as hidden as you think.

A/N: This was supposed to be something else ENTIRELY. But it just unravelled and here we are! Please, feel free to let me know your thoughts about it! B xx

--

Your relationship with Bucky hadn’t started with fireworks or dramatic confessions—it began like any other normal relationship: after drinks and a movie.

It was a quiet evening, the kind that felt heavier after long hours at your desk. You were finally wrapping up for the night, shrugging on your coat and slinging your purse over a shoulder. The clock had just ticked past 10 p.m., though it hardly felt late to you. Still, your shoulders sagged under the tension of the day—hours spent poring over intel, trying to uncover scraps of information that might help Sam and Bucky on their next mission.

“You shouldn’t be walking home alone.”

You looked up to find Bucky leaning casually against the doorway, arms crossed. His voice was gruff but not unkind, his blue eyes shadowed but steady.

“It’s just a few blocks,” you replied, already bracing for the argument.

His jaw tightened—a subtle shift, but one you’d come to recognize as the start of his infamous stubborn streak. “Doesn’t matter. My ma would haunt me if I let you.”

That earned him a laugh. “Your 'ma' sounds like quite the character.”

“She was,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It disappeared as quickly as it came. “C��mon, grab your stuff. I’ll walk you.”

You didn’t argue further, mostly because you were too tired to win, and partly because there was something oddly comforting about his protectiveness, even if it came wrapped in brooding silences and sharp glances.

Being around Bucky had taken some getting used to. You knew about him, of course—who didn’t? But nothing had prepared you for the sheer intensity of James Buchanan Barnes up close. His unrelenting stares, his quiet presence that somehow filled a room, and the way he seemed to carry the weight of entire worlds on his shoulders.

When you’d first joined their team as the “girl in the chair” (a term Sam insisted on despite your repeated protests that you were, in fact, a woman), you hadn’t known what to expect. Your days as a research journalist had been left behind in favor of a role that felt more like a sidekick to two superheroes. Never the hero, always the support.

“It’s not nothing, though,” Sam had told you once, catching you mid-eye-roll during a particularly grueling debrief. “You’re saving lives too, y’know. Every name, every address you dig up? That’s someone else’s tomorrow you’re protecting.”

Still, the job came with its own toll: exhaustion, migraines, and a constant ache in your wrists from hours of typing. But it also came with a quiet sense of purpose—and Bucky’s occasional company.

At first, his silences had been intimidating, his brooding presence almost oppressive. But you met him with unwavering kindness—bringing him coffee when he looked like he needed it, or letting him retreat into your office to escape Sam’s chatter. Slowly, the silences grew shorter, and the stares softened into something more watchful.

Now, walking beside him under the soft glow of streetlights, the quiet felt less like distance and more like understanding.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, “is this a one-time chivalry thing, or do I get an official escort service from now on?”

Bucky snorted. “You’re assuming I’m doing this for you.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, grinning. “Who else is benefitting from my safe arrival home?”

He glanced at you, a spark of humor flickering in his eyes. “Sam’ll never let me hear the end of it if something happens to you. Man loves his lectures.”

“Ah,” you said, mock-serious. “So I’m saving you from Sam’s wrath. Got it.”

He didn’t answer right away, but his pace slowed slightly, his hand brushing the base of your spine as you turned a corner, like he was directing towards home. “Maybe I just like making sure you’re okay,” he muttered.

Your heart stuttered at his words, a quiet ache blooming in your chest, but you didn’t dare press him further. Hope was a dangerous thing, a fragile spark that had burned you one too many times before. It was safer to tuck it away, to pretend his words meant nothing more than what he’d said—a simple gesture of kindness, nothing deeper.

You were friends, after all... right? Or at least, friendly. He was kind to you, yes, but Bucky Barnes was kind in a way that felt carefully measured, like a soldier fulfilling his duty. He was a gentleman through and through, the kind who’d been raised to believe it was his responsibility to make sure no lady faced the dangers of the night alone.

“His mah would’ve expected nothing less,” you thought wryly, your lips tugging into a faint smile.

He was a man out of time, after all. Decades removed from the era he was born into, yet somehow still anchored there, even now. You wouldn’t have been surprised if the rules he followed were the same ones ingrained into him all those years ago. And maybe, just maybe, it was easier to believe that than to let yourself hope he cared for any reason beyond habit or honor.

“Almost there,” he said, his voice breaking through your thoughts. His hand hovered near your elbow, steady and sure, as if ready to catch you should you stumble.

The steps to your door loomed far too quickly for your aching heart, bringing an abrupt end to your time with the brooding soldier. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if your body was reluctant to leave his quiet, steady presence.

You paused on the final step, its height almost eliminating the difference between you and Bucky. It gave you just enough courage to look up at him, your fingers nervously twisting around the strap of your purse.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He dipped his head in a single nod, his icy blue eyes flickering down to meet yours. His expression, as always, was unreadable, cast in shadows under the dim streetlamp. “Anytime.”

The simplicity of his reply made your chest tighten. You nodded in return, swallowing hard as your heart hammered in your throat. Turning away from him, you fixed your gaze on your front door, willing yourself to move forward, to end the moment before it unraveled you completely.

Friends. That’s all this was. It had to be.

So why did it feel so wrong to turn your back on him? Why did it feel like you were forcing yourself to betray something deeper, something unspoken, simply by walking away?

Your hand was on the doorknob before you realized you’d stopped moving, the quiet war between your heart and your mind reaching a fever pitch. You squeezed your eyes shut, battling the urge that rose in you like a wave.

Don’t do it. Just go inside. Let him leave.

But the battle was already lost. Before you could stop yourself—before logic could wrestle control away from the reckless beating of your heart—you turned. Your feet moved without permission, carrying you back down the steps toward him.

It wasn’t a decision so much as a pull, steady and undeniable, the words slipping from your lips as if carried on a tide of longing you couldn’t resist.

“Would you like to come up for a drink?”

The words tumbled out unbidden, your voice trembling just enough to betray how desperately you wanted him to say yes.

His reaction couldn’t have been more Bucky if he tried. His eyes shifted, and you swore you could see every emotion flash through them—surprise, hesitation, something a lot like longing—before they settled back into the stoic mask he always wore. Quiet. Unimpressed. Broody. And yet…

“I wouldn’t mind a beer.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, shaky with relief, and you motioned toward your door. “Well, come on then. I’ve got a six-pack that’s been waiting for some company.”

His presence filled the small apartment in a way that made your breath catch, the air somehow heavier, more electric. How many times had your silly, stubborn heart conjured up this exact scenario? Late at night, Bucky standing just inside your door, peeling off his worn leather jacket and tugging off the gloves that shielded both metal and flesh. Then, as if he’d done it a thousand times, he’d settle into a corner of your couch, legs spread, shoulders sinking back into the soft fabric like he belonged there.

“There's Heineken, Bud, and Corona,” you said, your voice only slightly betraying your nerves as you toed off your shoes and dropped your keys and purse by the door. “I think I might even have some whiskey stashed away somewhere. What’s your poison?”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze trailing lazily around the room before settling back on you. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

Your stomach flipped, and you nodded, biting back the grin threatening to stretch across your face. “Sure thing,” you said casually, though you were certain the flush creeping up your neck gave you away.

You turned toward the kitchen, your heart doing an embarrassing little leap as you busied yourself rummaging through the fridge and cabinets. The clink of bottles felt absurdly loud in the quiet apartment, every moment stretching with the weight of his presence just beyond your line of sight.

“Nice place,” he called from the living room, his tone casual but laced with something warmer.

“Thanks,” you replied, grabbing two beers and popping the caps off with practiced ease. “I’d say make yourself at home, but it looks like you’ve already got that covered.”

When you re-entered the room, there he was—exactly as you’d imagined so many times before. His jacket was draped over the back of the couch, his gloves neatly set beside it, and Bucky himself sprawled out comfortably. His metal hand rested casually on his knee, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes met yours.

“Here you go, Mr. Barnes,” you said, forcing a steady smile as you handed him the green bottle.

“To your first visit,” you began, raising your own bottle in a toast. You couldn’t help the way your gaze lingered, taking in the sight of his broad frame on your couch, the casual way he sat, the sheer presence of him filling the space. Warmth pooled low in your belly, and before you could stop yourself, you added, “May it be the first of many.”

His smirk deepened at that, a flicker of amusement flashing across his features. He raised his bottle silently, going for a sip—but you stopped him, your hand darting out to rest on his.

“Wait!” you blurted, your palm lightly pressing against his larger one.

His frown was slight, his gaze shifting between your hands before settling on your face. “Why?”

“You have to look at me when we cheers,” you explained, your voice a little breathless, a little unsure of what you were doing but too far in to back out now.

His brow arched. “And why’s that?”

“Bad luck if you don’t. Years of it.” You shrugged, suddenly feeling the ridiculousness of your own words but refusing to back down. “I mean, I can’t even count how many years... Probably best not to risk it.”

For a second, you thought he might argue. But then he chuckled, a soft sound that sent a flutter straight to your chest. “God knows I’ve had enough of that already, haven’t I?”

You giggled, your laughter bubbling out, light and carefree. The fact that he played along felt like a victory, a small but monumental crack in his stoic armor.

With a glint of something softer in his eyes, he tilted his head toward you, his gaze locking with yours. “Alright, doll,” he said, his voice quieter now, warmer. “Let’s do it properly.”

Eyes steady on yours, he clinked his bottle against yours, the sound sharp and satisfying in the quiet room. And then, he didn’t look away—not for a second—as he took a slow sip.

You followed suit, the contact between your eyes and his making your heart race so fast you thought it might burst. The heat in his gaze was steady, grounding, and yet it sent a thrilling, electric charge through you that made your knees nearly buckle.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low, the faintest curve to his lips as he lowered his bottle.

“Much,” you replied, somehow managing to keep your voice steady, even as your pulse thundered in your ears.

The air between you seemed to shift then, heavier but no less comforting—a new tension that simmered beneath the surface. If Bucky noticed the way your gaze lingered on him, the way your breath hitched every time his hand grazed your knee as he reached for another beer, he never said a thing.

He was the perfect gentleman, as always. Even when you slid closer on the couch, settling beside him on the plush cushions - even though there were a whole three other seats available to you. Even when you turned toward him, resting your head on your palm, your eyes tracing the strong lines of his face while you rambled about the mission reports piling up on your desk. He didn’t even glance at your neckline when you leaned over him to grab the remote, though you couldn’t help but steal a quiet inhale of his scent—clean, warm, unmistakably him.

“Alright,” you said, breaking the quiet. “I feel like I’m torturing you by making you listen to all this. Do you feel like watching something?” Your tone was cheery, light, but your heart raced at the thought of sharing something as simple and intimate as watching a film together.

With your eyes fixed on the TV, you missed the brief hesitation in his expression—the flicker of doubt that crossed his face and quickly vanished. Yet, neither the guilt, the fear, nor the pain that lingered in his soul seemed strong enough to stop him from embracing what you offered so openly: a chance to simply be. For the first time in what felt like forever, Bucky seemed just a little less burdened by the shadows of his past, a ghost of his old self and a lot of his new one urging him to give in.

“What’s on Netflix?” he asked, his voice low and casual.

Your head whipped around so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “How do you know what Netflix is?”

His lips quirked into a rare, genuinely amused smile, the kind that made your stomach flip. “I’m old, but I’m not that old, doll.”

“You’re 106,” you shot back, arching a brow.

“And yet, I still know what streaming is,” he countered, the smile growing. “I’m not living under a rock.”

“Well, I am impressed, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, settling back into the cushions. “What else do you know about modern technology? Please tell me you’ve at least heard of TikTok.”

His expression shifted into something closer to a scowl, but the playful glint in his eye betrayed him. “I know about TikTok,” he said, sounding almost offended. “And dating apps. God, the horrors,” he added, shaking his head dramatically as he glanced at his phone like it was some sort of ancient relic.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound warm and genuine, filling the cozy space between you. But beneath the humor, your stomach twisted with an unexpected knot. Dating apps?

“What about dating apps?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but the curiosity in your voice was hard to hide.

Bucky groaned, slouching deeper into the couch as though the thought of them physically pained him. “I don’t know, doll. They just seem... unnatural. All these profiles and swiping left or right, like you’re picking a product instead of a person. Not my thing.” His voice held a certain distaste, and the casual way he said it made you wonder if he was speaking from experience—or just his own strong sense of principle.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the questions bubbling up inside you. Had he ever used them? Was he speaking from personal experience, or just from watching the chaos unfold around him? Your thoughts shifted uncomfortably, and you tried to steer the conversation back to safer waters.

“I get it,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s... kind of weird, honestly. It’s like shopping for a date, but with less... quality control.” You shot him a teasing grin, but the tightness in your chest was hard to ignore.

Bucky chuckled, the sound a low rumble that was soothing, even though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Exactly. I mean, if I’m gonna meet someone, I’d rather it be... I don’t know, real? Not behind a screen.”

For some reason, his comment made your heart stumble, a traitorous beat skipping out of rhythm. You quickly dropped your gaze to your beer, hoping the reaction wasn’t written all over your face. Was he hinting that he preferred real, in-person connections? That he’d rather... meet someone like that?

You cleared your throat, feigning casual interest to mask the swarm of uncertainty rising inside. “So, how would you go about it? Finding a date, I mean. Is Sam your wingman?”

Bucky nearly choked on his beer, shaking his head vehemently. “God, no! Can you imagine? He’s too busy being Captain America to care about my love life... except when he’s accusing me of flirting with his sister.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, and your chest tightened with something sharp and unwelcome. Jealousy. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to chase it away. “I didn’t know you liked Sarah,” you said, and to your horror, the disappointment in your voice was impossible to hide.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the shift in your tone. “She’s great,” he said with a thoughtful nod. Then his lips curved knowingly. “But not like that.”

The heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks was impossible to ignore, and Bucky’s sly grin told you he’d noticed. Your relief collided with your curiosity, the two tangling into a dangerous need to know more. “Oh,” you started hesitantly. “So... if not her, then who?”

He took another sip of his beer, the pause deliberate. “Had one date with the waitress from that Asian place we always order from. It… didn’t go well.”

Your brows furrowed. “And you haven’t tried again since then?”

“Not really.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, the movement deceptively casual. “You know how it is these days—apps, algorithms, everyone judging you by a couple of photos and a bio. And who’s lining up to date a former assassin, huh? People know too much, too soon. Real connections don’t happen that way.”

The self-deprecating edge in his voice made your heart ache. You tilted your head, studying the way his vibranium fingers tapped lightly against the beer bottle. “Maybe,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the nervous thrum beneath your skin, “you’re looking in the wrong places.”

His gaze snapped to yours, sharp and searching. “Oh yeah?” he asked, voice low, almost daring. “And where do you think I should look?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his question, his attention. “Maybe a little closer to home,” you murmured, eyes resolutely fixed on the beer bottle in your own hands.

The silence that followed was electric, charged with unspoken possibilities that hung in the air like static. His gaze lingered on you, steady and intense, and you could feel it even without looking up. It made your pulse race in a way you didn’t dare acknowledge.

The truth was, you weren’t sure if you were just caught up in the moment—or if there was something more lingering in his words, in the way he was looking at you now.

You wanted to ask. The question burned on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. But a part of you hesitated, afraid of the answer. What if this was nothing more than friendly banter? What if pushing further shattered the comfortable connection you’d built?

“Closer to home, huh?” Bucky’s voice was a low rumble, breaking the silence but not the tension. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, and for a moment, it felt like he was closing the space between you. “And what does that mean, exactly? You got someone in mind for me, doll?”

There it was—that nickname. The one you pretended to hate but secretly adored. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the corner of your mouth twitch, betraying the smile you tried to suppress. His voice was so close it warmed you from head to toe. “I’m just saying,” you replied, forcing your tone to stay neutral, “maybe you’re overthinking it. Sometimes the best things are right in front of you.”

His lips quirked, his expression softening as if he’d caught onto something unsaid. “You think so?” Bucky asked, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

You dared to turn your head and glance at him, and the way his blue eyes locked onto yours stole whatever breath you had left. “Yeah,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I know so.”

The moment stretched between you, fragile and heavy with unspoken words. You swore he was leaning closer, his gaze flickering briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. And suddenly, the question burning in your chest felt inevitable.

“Bucky…” you began, voice trembling slightly, unsure of what you were about to say—or what he might say back.

“Yeah, doll?” Bucky’s voice was gentle, a thread of warmth in the charged air between you.

You hesitated, but the weight of your emotions was too much to carry any longer. “Is this a date?” you finally blurted, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself.

For a moment, his expression didn’t change, and then he shook his head slowly. “It’s not,” he said, his voice steady but quiet.

Your chest tightened, and the disappointment hit hard, like a blow you hadn’t braced for. You tried to mask it, but your face betrayed you, your shoulders sagging under the weight of the rejection. The ache in your heart grew with every second of silence that followed, the room feeling colder with each passing beat.

What you missed was the storm raging behind his steel-blue eyes—the internal battle he fought against his demons, the ones that screamed he wasn’t good enough for you. Wasn’t good enough for anyone. He’d carried those ghosts for too long to ignore them now. But he wasn’t blind.

He’d noticed the way your smile softened when it was meant for him, brighter and warmer than it ever was for anyone else. He’d seen how you fretted over him after missions, your hands fluttering with concern even at the smallest scratch on his skin. And he’d felt the hope radiating from you tonight when you’d invited him over, your words laced with a vulnerability you rarely showed.

Bucky knew. He’d known for a while. And that knowledge both terrified and thrilled him. Love, in any form, was fragile—he’d learned that the hard way. But tonight, sitting here with you, he realized he couldn’t keep running from the possibility of it.

He wanted you. Your laughter, your kindness, your stubbornness, your touch. He craved all of it. And maybe he didn’t deserve it, but for once in his long life, he wanted to try.

Bucky set his beer down, his movements deliberate, and leaned closer. His flesh hand brushed against the back of your arm and the touch sent a shiver up your arm. 

“It’s not a date,” he repeated, voice low but filled with a quiet resolve that made your breath catch, hurt twisting at your heart.

Your brow furrowed, the downturn of your lips impossible to hide. “Heard you the first time…”

“This isn’t a date,” he pressed on. Then, with a small, almost shy smile, he added, “But it could be.”

Your heart skipped, his words hanging in the air like a lifeline. “Bucky…”

Cutting through your hesitation, his gaze locked onto yours, unflinching, steady. “If you want this… if you want me, I’m yours. I want to try.”

The vulnerability in his voice left you breathless, stealing any coherent thought you might have had. For the first time in what felt like forever, hope blossomed in your chest, warm and radiant. You didn’t hesitate this time, your lips curving into a soft, trembling smile.

“Is this because you’re afraid of the apps?” you teased, the quip breaking the intensity just enough for you to breathe. But your voice wavered slightly, and your eyes glistened with the tears threatening to spill. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll steal your virtue?”

Bucky chuckled, low and genuine, the sound sending warmth curling in your chest. “I’m not a damsel in distress, doll,” he said, his tone playful as his fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your face. The simple touch sent shivers down your spine, and you leaned into it instinctively.

“And you’re also not the big bad wolf you think you are,” you countered softly, your voice tinged with both affection and defiance.

“Well, technically…” His lips quirked into a lopsided grin. “I am the White Wolf.”

You rolled your eyes, the tension breaking into something lighter, something safe. “He jokes,” you said, shaking your head. “He could be kissing instead…”

His grin softened, and for a beat, he just looked at you, his hand still lingering near your face. Then, as if your words had given him permission, he leaned in, closing the space between you in a way that felt both inevitable and extraordinary.

“Guess I’ll take your advice for once, doll,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your lips.

The moment his lips touched yours, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. His kiss was gentle at first, a question rather than an assumption, as though he wanted to be sure this was what you truly wanted. His warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your cheekbone, while his vibranium hand rested lightly on your knee, grounding him in the moment.

You sighed into the kiss, your hand instinctively reaching up to thread through the short hair at the nape of his neck. The movement drew him closer, and he obliged, deepening the kiss with a soft groan that sent a shiver down your spine. His lips were soft yet firm, moving against yours in a way that spoke of patience and restrained hunger, like he was savoring every second of this moment.

His vibranium hand finally moved, finding your waist with surprising tenderness. The cool metal was a stark contrast to the heat of his other hand through the fabric of your shirt, but it pulled you to the reality of him—both the man he was and the one he’d fought so hard to become.

When you parted briefly for air, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths mingling with yours in the small space between you. His eyes fluttered open, heavy-lidded and brimming with emotions he didn’t have to say out loud.

“Doll…” he whispered, his voice rough and full of awe, like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

But you weren’t done. You weren’t ready to let the moment slip away. Sliding your hand from his neck to his jaw, you tilted his face back toward yours, brushing your lips against his again, slower this time, savoring the taste of him. He responded immediately, his grip on your waist tightening as his mouth moved against yours with more certainty, more passion.

The kiss deepened, growing warmer, more insistent. Your bodies angled closer together, his presence consuming your senses. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, and the faint rasp of his stubble as it brushed against your skin only made the experience more intoxicating.

You weren’t sure how it happened—one moment you were pressed against the back of your couch, his hands and lips demanding your full attention, and the next, you were straddling his thighs. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as your harsh breaths mingled, the taste of his tongue intoxicating and impossible to resist.

For all his claims of being a man out of his time, Bucky Barnes knew exactly how to touch a woman. His hands were a perfect dichotomy: one warm and strong, the other cool and unyielding, but both equally firm and commanding. His touch left no room for doubt or hesitation, responding to every unspoken plea you hadn’t yet found the words for.

And his kiss? God, his kiss. You could write sonnets about the way his lips moved against yours, the way his tongue teased and claimed you, coaxing a need from you that you hadn’t known you were capable of. None of your wildest fantasies could compare to the reality of him, his body pressed against yours, solid and capable. The things it could do—what it was doing, what it promised to do—set your whole body alight with yearning.

You kissed him harder, deeper, needier, your hips moving instinctively against his. His groan rumbled low in his chest, a sound that only made you crave him more. But just as your movements grew more desperate, his vibranium hand clamped firmly on your hips, halting your rhythm. His flesh hand cupped your jaw, gentle but insistent, forcing you to break the kiss.

“Doll…” His voice was rough, laced with a warning that sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

You blinked at him, still dazed, heat crawling under your skin as you realized what you’d done. “Yes, I’m sorry, I know—I’m sorry,” you stammered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

His breaths came heavy, his chest rising and falling against yours as his steel-blue eyes bore into yours. The hunger there mirrored your own, and the restraint in his grip only made you want him more.

Your lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, your own need warring with the desire to break the tension. “Seems like I really am trying to steal your virtue, huh?” you joked, your voice light but shaky as you turned your head to press a soft kiss to his palm.

His lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through the hunger. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, his hand slipping from your jaw to trail gently along your cheek, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips.

Your free hand wrapped around his vibranium one, your thumb tracing the grooves of the metal. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with promise as you leaned in, resting your forehead against his.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the charged silence stretching as his hands anchored you, holding you steady but never pushing. His restraint was palpable, and you knew without a doubt—if you wanted more, he would give it to you willingly. But only if you asked.

You wouldn’t, though. Not tonight.

Instead, you leaned in, brushing soft, sweet kisses against his lips, your movements unhurried and tender. Each kiss felt like a promise, an unspoken assurance that there was no rush, no need for anything more than this moment. It took superhuman strength—the kind he had—not to let it escalate.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your lips tingling and your cheeks warm. His eyes searched yours, and the way he looked at you—like you were the most precious thing in the world—made your heart swell. His thumb grazed your cheek, his smile soft and genuine.

“How about that movie?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, though his eyes betrayed a depth of emotion that made your breath catch.

You laughed, the sound breaking the last remnants of tension and filling the cozy space around you. “Alright, fine. Let’s find something to watch, then. Any preferences?”

“Anything but those baking shows Sam keeps trying to get me into,” he muttered, his lips quirking in faint exasperation.

A giggle bubbled out of you at the mental image of Sam dragging Bucky into a world of frosting, sprinkles, and delicate pastries. The idea was so absurd yet so perfectly Sam that you couldn’t help yourself. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, your lips lingering just long enough to feel the faint rasp of stubble. “Deal. No baking shows.”

As the two of you settled back onto the couch, scrolling through movie options, the tension between you shifted again—this time, it was softer, lighter, wrapped in a warmth that felt safe and steady.

Bucky stretched his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers absently brushing against your shoulder as you leaned into him, your body naturally seeking his. And for the first time in a long time, you noticed something different about him. The shadows that usually haunted his expression seemed to have lifted, replaced by something quieter, something calmer.

Here, with you, Bucky wasn’t the broken soldier or the ex-assassin haunted by his past. He was just… himself. And in that moment, you realized that’s all you’d ever wanted him to be.

[melminli]

I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻

BANG BANG BANG ll

summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.8k

contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.

prev. | masterlist

There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.

“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?

You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.

“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”

You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.

The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”

You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about six years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was really fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.

It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.

You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.

She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.

Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.

“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”

The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.

You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”

Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.

You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back. “ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”

Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.

[misayani]

Okay, this is a bit of an odd request, but could you write a threesome between No-el, Se-Mi, and the Fem!reader? Like both No-el and Se-Mi are ganging up on the reader to fuck hard enough for her to see stars.

I don't really have a plot in mind. Maybe another contestant was flirting with the reader and they both get jealous so they corner her in the bathrooms? And the reader is more than willing to fuck them too.

Thank you so much!

NOBODY KNOWS — NO-EUL (GUARD 011) & SE-MI (PLAYER 380) 

◜ pairing ... no-eul / guard 011 & se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader

◜you knew you were fucked, as you managed to get two women jealous over you.

𔗨 author's note — came ten times writing this so i apologize if i took so long /j. lets just pretend mi-na's still alive and happy in this fic <33 (i needed this no-eul fic as much as you guys do because theres little to no fics about her and im so sad and I JUST NEED HER.) [lowercase intended]

♡ upcoming fic — se-mi + comfort 

warning: smut [threesome, fingering, oral] 

"ugh, get off meeee!" mi-na tries to wiggle you off as you cling tighter onto her arm. right now was your second game, and they had asked everyone to team up into five— your team included you and mi-na, thanos, nam-su, and se-mi who had been acting distant ever since you guys sat down waiting for your team's turn.

you were sat in between mi-na and se-mi, the latter who had been sneaking glances to the both of you without you noticing. 

"i'm scared, what if i mess up?" you unconfidently mutter to your bestfriend, who looked at you with an expression that read 'are you kidding me?'

"babe, i've seen you play gonggi ever since we were kids. and there was not a single time where you missed catching. you won't mess it up." mi-na said, grabbing your hand to reassure you.

"you've known each other since kids?" se-mi spoke up beside you, making you both turn your heads to her. your lips form into a polite smile, she finally spoke. 

"yes, we were neighbours but she actually used to bully me—" mi-na cuts you off as she rolls her eyes, "yah! don't just go and tell some nobody shit about us." she nudges you as se-mi scoffs.

"the fuck you mean nobody? if it weren't for me, she wouldn't have made it past first game." your smile drops as se-mi speaks, well it was true— if it weren't for her catching you during 'green light red light', you would've been dead by now.

"you bitch—!" mi-na started but you immediately jumped in, "it's fine. not a big deal." you shoot your bestfriend a look to calm her down. please, not now.

mi-na flips her hair and crosses her arms against her chest, turning her attention to the purple-haired man beside her, who called himself thanos. he notices her and smiles, starting a conversation with her.

you turn to look at se-mi and give her an apologetic smile, "i'm sorry about her. she acts the same for everyone, if that makes you feel better." se-mi rolls her eyes, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek as she darts her eyes back to the contestants currently playing. 

you just pressed your lips together in a thin line at her lack of response before you turned your head back to also watch as you fiddled with your fingers anxiously.

                            ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

 "can't it be our turn already? my ass is starting to hurt from sitting." you hear mi-na complain under her breath. you roll your eyes playfully as thanos smirks, "don't you worry babe, i'll massage it for you later." nam-su—you think that's his real name. thanos calls him nam-gyu, despite nam-su correcting him many times already until he got tired and just let it be— looks at the purple-haired guy weirdly, you couldn't blame him.

"get a fucking room"

finally, the current team playing made it to the finish line. all of you stood up, cheering the group that won. you turned to mi-na the same time she does and you both crash into a hug as if your own team had won. 

beside you, was se-mi staring at the both of you, jaw clenched and hands formed into fists. she sat back down as mi-na and you finally calm down, smiles still plastered onto your faces. the both of you sit back down and you tilt your head at mi-na, whose eyebrows are furrowed as her gaze was locked at something behind you. you follow her gaze, simply seeing a triangle masked guard. 

you look back to mi-na before you spoke, "what's wrong?" you see her blink as she snaps out of it, looking to you instead, "nothing. just felt like that guard behind us was staring."

you laugh, "you're overanalyzing everyone. what? gonna fight that guard too?" she rolls her eyes at you as she shakes her head, sighing. "whatever."

moments later, it was finally your team's turn. what mi-na said was right— you didn't mess up during playing gonggi. in fact, the each of you managed to play all the mini games smoothly and went back to the large room without any scratches.

                            ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

it was finally bedtime, after doing the votings. you and mi-na had voted for go home, while the other three in your group voted for the opposite. you toss and turn in your bed, unable to sleep. many thoughts are racing inside your mind and you would literally kill just for them to give you a break.

suddenly, your mind wanders off, and a girl with the bold personality comes to mind. se-mi. just the thought of her makes you squirm. you had noticed the way she looked at you, the way she touched you everytime she had a chance to. 

heat rushed to your core. really? right now? you shift, removing the pillow supporting your head and placing it in between your legs instead. it's not enough, you thought. with a sigh, you hesitated before slipping yourself out of bed and drag your feet towards the door on the left side of the room.

you knock on the door softly, patiently waiting for the masked men to answer. seconds later, the hinged cover on the window swings open, revealing a triangle masked guard.

"restroom. please." you speak, before adding "my stomach really hurts." you see the guard pause for a while, before shutting the hinged cover and you sigh in defeat, preparing to walk back to bed. the door opens and you look up, the triangle masked guard standing on the side, making way for you.

"i need to go too." you flinch as you hear someone speak behind you. glancing to your back, your cheeks heat up as you see the girl you had just been fantasizing about earlier. se-mi glanced back, looking directly into your eyes. 

you snapped your head back, facing forward. with an awkward cough, you walk forward, se-mi following behind as the triangle masked guard guides you both towards the restroom.

the guard opens the door for the both of you as soon as you reach the restroom. se-mi walks past you, going inside first before you walked in next. 

the door shuts behind you just before you hear one of the bathroom stall's door slam shut. you just stand there for a moment, why was i here again? right. to get yourself off.

you felt disgust towards yourself as you made your way to the sink, turning on the faucet. you start to wash your hands as you think: but how the fuck am i supposed to do that when the woman you were thinking about is also inside this restroom and wouldn't that be so disgusting to think of someone like that an— your thoughts were cut off as you look back up to the mirror in front of you, startling as you see se-mi just meters away behind you. 

you turned the faucet off before you turned around, facing her. "you scared me." you said quietly, your chest rising up and down. she snickers before she spoke up, "scared you, huh? don't tell me you don't like me being in the same room as you, alone."

she clicks her tongue, "you think i haven't been noticing your little stares?" oh so she felt it too, the thing between us. "you're probably having dirty thoughts right now for all i know." her lips form into a smug smirk, making your knees feel like jelly.

your lips part and the restroom door suddenly swings open, making you both snap your heads to look. your eyes widen in fear as you see a triangle masked guard walk inside, locking the door behind. your head turns to look at se-mi, who didn't look as scared at all. what the fuck? you thought.

your heart started to hammer in your chest. you hear rustling as you look back to the guard. he— or she— started taking the mask off, revealing piercing eyes, before taking off the balaclava next. it revealed a woman. a rather hot woman, she had short black hair and a scar on her right cheek that was still reddish.

"s-semi..?" your voice came out shaky, as you reached for the girl beside you. you were so confused and scared, not knowing what this guard's deal was. she glanced at you, walking in front in a protective manner, before speaking to the woman you didn't know the intentions of. 

"why the hell are you here?" she bravely starts, "don't you guys have your own restrooms?" se-mi huffs at the woman. you admired se-mi for her courage to talk confidently but at the same time you're scared shitless for her. 

the woman sighs, "why the hell—? fuck—" she starts, before adding: "to join in on whatever the hell you two are doing."

"to join in on—? ah." se-mi pauses as if she read the woman's mind. "i see. you want her?" se-mi chucks her head sideways at you, as the woman glances at your confused state— eyebrows furrowed and eyes doe. you looked like a puppy, which made her want to ruin you even more. 

"wha-what?" you stuttered, fiddling with your fingers. "what do you mean? what do you mean you want me? how?" you hear se-mi chuckle as the woman in front of you crosses her arms. want me? want to kill me?? or like, sex? hopefully sex. different thoughts raced to your mind. 

"don't act dumb now sweetheart. you know exactly what i mean by it." se-mi cooes at you mockingly. 

"well.. what do you say? are you up for it..?" the woman speaks up again with her raspy voice. you bit your lip, as they both stare at you in anticipation. fuck it.

you shyly nodded as you look down at your fingers. "words." your head snaps up to look at the woman once again before saying, "fine— yes.. i'm down." 

after hearing your confirmation, the woman starts to unzip her red jumpsuit, making your legs weak. se-mi walks closer to you, "take your jacket off, baby." she softly says. you comply, before se-mi speaks up once again "shouldn't have been so close to your 'bestfriend' in front of me" 

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, dropping your jacket onto the floor. "oh. i guess we're both in here for the same reason, then." the woman speaks, your cheeks heat up as you saw her figure— she had the jumpsuit unzipped down to her waist, revealing a sports bra underneath.

se-mi snickers as she pushes your shoulder, making you fall down to your butt. "you saw that too?"

"was observing them from afar." oh.

"huh? bestfriend? you mean mi-na?" se-mi hums as she squats down to your level.

"but- but we're just friends?" you lock eyes with se-mi as the other woman walks just behind you.

"we're just friends," se-mi mocks you, "bullshit." 

the woman's also bent down to your level now and you can feel her hot breath against the back of your neck. "shirt, off." she whispers. 

you hesitantly grap the end of your shirt, you were shy to show them your body, it'll make you feel too exposed and pathetic.

the woman behind you clicks her tongue, before she takes your shirt off herself impatiently. "hesitant now? you weren't as hesitant earlier when you kept flirting with your friend." 

"won't be surprised at all if the both of you had sex before." semi continues, you were now left in your bra and tracksuit pants. "slut." 

your breath hitches as the woman behind you started kissing the side of your neck softly, while her gloved hands traveled to your covered breasts and started caressing them over the cloth. "no-eul. my name's no-eul." she whispers in between  leaving kisses on your neck.

you whimper, your hands going towards your pants to slide it down your legs. se-mi helps you and she throws it aside, exposing your soaked underwear. "you look so pretty like this. so wet for us." se-mi purrs as she presses the pads of her fingertips to your clothed cunt.

the woman— no-eul— unclasped your bra and you wiggle it off you as the cold air made your nipples hard. no-eul takes off her gloves and immediately brings them back to your boobs to grope them.

you let out a soft moan, head tipping back to kiss no-eul. she complies, taking your soft lips onto her chapped ones. the both of you make out as se-mi kept herself busy sliding down your underwear. you lifted your hips up slightly to make it easier for her, and once they were finally off, she spreads your legs as her breath hitches.

you pull away from the kiss and rest your head on no-euls shoulder while she continued to touch your chest. semi leans down and starts to leave kisses on your thighs, sometimes sucking them. 

your head shoots up to look at se-mi. "se-mi please" you plead, "please what?" she murmurs against your inner thigh. 

"please, eat me out. please."

"yeah? is that the same way you beg mi-na?" she taunts, "no, no— we don't fuck i swear! we're just friends." you cry out, your hips bucking up, desperate for any contact. 

you tilt your head back to no-eul's shoulder once again, pouting and whining, "no-eul.." the woman chuckled at you and shook her head, "you have to beg, baby." 

you look at se-mi as your lower lips tremble. you didn't even care at this point on, "please se-mi, i— i promise we're both just friends. really- i— i swear she's straight. just please, i need you." 

"give the poor girl what she wants, don't be so mean." you were grateful that no-eul spoke up, as it finally led to se-mi giving in. 

your back arches as your head falls down to no-eul's left shoulder. se-mi latched her lips onto your aching clit, swirling it with her tongue. soft gasps escape your mouth—that's very close to no-eul's ear— making her hear everything loud and clear.

"mnnnh— so good.." no-eul herself was getting wetter and wetter at your noises: soft moans and the lewd sound your wet cunt is making while se-mi hungrily makes out with it.

"fuck, baby.." you swear you just heard a low moan from no-eul, but maybe you're just tripping, considering your mind is spinning around right now out of pleasure. 

you reach for no-eul's hand, bringing it to your mouth before you started to suck on her ring and middle finger. "shit," no-eul mutters, her fingers softly thrusting in and out your mouth, "don't do this to me."

se-mi hums against your cunt, her tongue teasing your entrance before she pushes it in. many things are happening too fast right now, you could feel your orgasm growing. 

no-eul pulls her fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them. she leans down to kiss you, making your moans muffled. your hand travels towards se-mi's hair as you push her head deeper. you couldn't think of anything that's better than this: no-eul's tongue exploring your mouth while se-mi's explores your cunt. 

"i'm going— to cum—" you say in between kisses, loud enough for se-mi to hear. you should be thankful for se-mi being nice, because she speeds up, eager to make you cum and taste you. 

and then it happens. everything waist down tightens as you release, your orgasm ripping through you. a loud moan escapes your mouth and onto no-eul's who pulled away and watched your pleasured face. se-mi laps your juices up before you feel no-eul remove herself from behind you. 

se-mi stands up and no-eul whispers something to her, nodding before she pulls her pants and underwear down and tosses them somewhere else. you lick your lips at the sight before no-eul spoke up

"on your hands and knees." holy fucking shit— se-mi places herself down as you turn around, your legs slightly wobbling while you try to support yourself using your hands. your face was met with se-mi's dripping core before she speaks "well?" 

"i- i don't know how to... um," you shyly say, not feeling confident to make someone cum.

"it'll be fine, just trust your instincts." trusting her, you lean down to close the space between you and se-mi's cunt, giving her light kitten licks. "fuck— more." she forces out. you started making '8' patterns against her clit as she lets out a breathy moan. 

your eyes widen as you moan out loudly from no-eul slamming two of her fingers inside you without any warning. "fuck—! mngggh!" se-mi didn't let you adjust as she forcefully pushes your head down to her core, making your moans muffled against her, sending vibrations to her whole body. 

tears started to well up in your eyes as no-eul's fingers pound into you. no-eul grunts behind you as her fingers works wonders inside of you, hitting the right spots, "you're so fucking tight." 

se-mi lets out a scoff, "surprising, thought you were a whore." you moan against her core, if it was possible— you grew wetter at her words. 

you start to think that you're doing a good job because of how se-mi lets out small moans. you flutter your eyes open and traveled your eyes to look at her expression, you were surprised to see her already looking at you, eyes half-lidded with lips parted and sweat dripping down her forehead as you kept making out with her cunt. 

your arch your back as you felt no-eul curl her fingers inside you. you felt another orgasm building up, this time faster due to being the second one. 

"dirty girl, letting a guard fuck you senseless like this when you should be scared of me." you hear no-euls raspy voice— shit, her voice alone is turning you on so bad, making you feel butterflies inside your stomach. 

"think you can handle one more finger baby?" no-eul cooes, as you hum against se-mi, tasting something salty— did she just cum? holy fuck did i make her cum? 

se-mi tugs your hair up and shifts herself closer to you before crashing her lips onto yours. you could differentiate the way no-eul and se-mi kiss you: no-eul kissed you soft and slow while se-mi kissed you hungrily and rough. you moan into her mouth as no-eul pushes a third finger inside you, making you closer to releasing. 

"you're taking it so well, so good."  

you pull away from the kiss and se-mi immediately latches her lips on your neck, sucking on it. 

"i'm gonna cum- i'm gonna cum," you moan out as no-eul's fingers work faster. 

your eyes roll back as your second orgasm hits you, feeling an overwhelming bliss throughout your whole body. no-eul doesn't stop but she slows down her thrusts as she lets you ride your high. soon enough, you've calmed down and the woman behind you pulls her fingers out of you, making a squelching noise.

your knees shake before they gave out, if it weren't for se-mi catching you you would've fell to the floor face first. 

"clean her up. i need to go back outside." no-eul speaks up. you can hear the faucet running so you assumed she was washing her hands. you can feel se-mi nod against you, before you turned around to look at no-eul who was zipping up her jumpsuit and tidying herself up before walking towards the door. 

she's leaving already? the thought made you sulk.

se-mi leans you against the wall as she starts to dress herself up as well. no-eul pauses, her shoulders going up and down as if she let out a sigh before you see her turn around and walk back towards you.

you just stare straight forward dumbfoundedly, before feeling a cold hand tilt your chin up as no-eul leans down to give you once last kiss. 

"i trust you to not tell a soul about this." 

her voice was gentle but firm, and it made you not want to even think about telling anyone about this— it wasn't like you're planning to anyways. no-eul walks towards the door and pauses as she sees se-mi come back with a tissue roll on hand, she gives her a nod before unlocking the restroom door; she opened it slightly at first, checking for anyone outside, and walking outside when she confirmed it was clear.

se-mi picks your underwear and pants up from the floor and shakes it off, you stand up as she hands you the toilet paper and you use that to clean your slick off. she hands you your clothes after and you wear them, disposing the used tissue paper and then washing your hands after. 

you glanced at where you dropped your jacket, frowning when you didn't see it there. se-mi clears her throat behind you, you turn off the faucet and turn around before she hands you your jacket. 

you both stare each other awkwardly. you bit your lower lip as her lips form into a smirk, "have you learned your lesson?"

you nod slowly and then you see her raise her eyebrows at you. "next time you pull the same shit, i won't be so nice." she leans in to kiss you; you reciprocate. "but it's too bad we don't have too much time using the restroom." se-mi says in between kisses as she cups your jaw

"or maybe should i just fuck you out there for everyone to see, hm?"

she smiles against your lips, "even had a fucking guard swoon over you." she murmurs. you pull away from the kiss before clearing your throat, you aren't really sure what to say right now. "cmon." se-mi intertwines her fingers with yours as she leads you towards the restroom exit, opening it before stepping outside with you following.

no-eul— well, a masked guard, but you think it's her, was standing outside patiently, nodding and leading the way back to the large room after seeing the both of you.

your mind wanders off as you walk— oh my god. i just fucked two women and one of them's a fucking guard. a quiet sigh escapes your lips as you rethink your life choices;

what the hell am i doing with my life

                         ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

"why are you walking so weirdly? hey— walk straight for the love of god!" mi-na exclaims as she catches you from falling down, the two of you were walking towards the line of players to get your breakfast.

"the fuck does that have to do with you not walking straight?" she scoffs, "it's like you got fucked so hard you can't walk." she murmurs as your eyes widen before you nudged her.

your cheeks heat up as you remembered the things that happened last night in the bathroom. you shake your head, "it's nothing. my head just hurts."

"mi-na!"

you didn't deny it though. if only she knew, if only.

@misayani

[wendichester]

˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡˚ skincare,

summary. your skincare time is also dean's time.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 569.

The soft hum of water running in the sink was the only sound in the dimly lit bathroom. Dean leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, watching as you went through your nightly skincare routine. His gaze wasn’t casual—it never was when it came to you.

He’d seen you do a million things—reading, working out, cooking—but this? This intrigued him the most. No matter how tired you were, no matter how long or rough the day had been, you never skipped it. Even after hours tangled up in bed together, your skin glowing with the aftermath of love, you’d still pad into the bathroom, tie your hair back, and start working through your little bottles.

Dean couldn’t understand it. But damn, he loved watching you.

You caught his reflection in the mirror and smirked. “Enjoying the show?”

“Just... fascinated,” he replied, his lips quirking into a smirk. “You’re half-asleep, and you’re still doing this. What’s in those things, anyway? Magic potions?”

“It’s not weird,” you shot back, massaging something into your face. “It’s self-care. You should try it.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I’ll pass. Not exactly manly, sweetcheeks.”

You turned to him, arms crossed, one brow arched. “Oh, please. You coat your hands in motor oil daily. This is basically the same, just less greasy and smells better.”

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “No offense, sweetheart, but me and fancy creams don’t mix.”

You stepped closer, your hands already reaching for him. “Sit,” you ordered, pointing to the closed toilet lid.

“Bossy,” he muttered, though he obeyed, sitting with an exaggerated sigh.

“Close your eyes,” you instructed, squeezing cleanser onto your fingers.

“Not sure about this,” Dean hesitated for a moment but then complied, his long lashes fluttering shut. The first touch of your hands against his face made his shoulders tense, but you moved gently, massaging the cleanser into his skin with a tenderness he wasn’t used to.

“Relax,” you murmured, your thumbs gliding over his cheekbones. “It’s just me.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his body melting into your touch. As you moved through the steps, applying toner, serum, and moisturizer, Dean felt something foreign—a strange mix of vulnerability and comfort.

“Hard to relax when someone’s this close to my face,” he murmured, though his tone was soft.

The products smelled nice, sure, and the cool sensation was refreshing, but what really struck Dean was you. Your hands on his face, the way your breath brushed against his cheek as you leaned in closer. The warmth of your fingertips, the soft rhythm of your movements—everything about it was you.

As you worked, he couldn’t help but open one eye to look at you. The concentration on your face, the care in your touch—it was almost too much.

When you finished, your hands lingered on his face for a moment, your thumbs brushing along his jawline. “There,” you said softly, your voice full of warmth. “How’s that?”

Dean opened his eyes, staring up at you, his heart doing something funny in his chest. “You know,” he said, his voice low, “I think I get it now.”

“Get what?”

He reached up, his hand brushing against yours. “It’s not the stuff you’re putting on my face. It’s you.” You flushed, your heart skipping a beat as he added, “I’d let you do this every night, just to feel your hands on me.”

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril

[wtfaniii]

Letters of destiny

● Summary: You entered the games for a reason, to pay for your husband's chemotherapy, there you meet someone who has a story quite similar to yours

● Note: This language is not my original language but I hope you like this one shot, I am open to recommendations and constructive criticism! <3

● Warning: Nothing, it's just a bit short since I'm not used to writing through this medium yet, but I hope you like it.

You didn't want to die, you had a man at home who adored you and was worried about you and you hoped to arrive with lots of money and a future resolved but the timer of the games only went backwards and you still couldn't find a group to join.

The carousel game had never been your strong suit, socializing was not your role but it was that or die, a group of 7 players and you were still standing there looking in all directions not knowing what to do until you felt someone pull your arm and in the blink of an eye you were in a compartment with 6 other people.

"Thank you..." The girl murmured, releasing the air she hadn't realized she had trapped in her lungs.

"It's nothing" answered player 456 also with accelerated breathing and taking gasps of air while he rested his hands on his knees, when the shots and screams were heard he looked through the half-open space of the door with sadness. You had already seen him, he was the one who guided them in the first game of green light and red light, the one who says he has already participated and won, maybe he tried to persuade people to withdraw from these games but he only encouraged you, it means that there is a chance to win.

"Thank you..." The young woman repeated, giving a slight bow to which he turned to look at her, confused, as did the rest of those who were there. "You motivated me to continue in these games."

You felt another look on you, only this one was full of curiosity and intensity. Without knowing it, you had said the same words as another person, only this time they were sincere.

"Are you crazy, women?" Another man shouted next to him, one with the number 390 "If what we want is for these games to end!"

You just stayed quiet with your eyes open, when your gaze moved towards the one who kept looking at you, you met with an intense and serious look, it made you shrink in your place just a little.

The door opened again and they all left together, happy to have been able to save their lives once again.

You were about to leave but before you could, one of them pulled you over with his arm around your shoulders with great confidence and shouted victoriously. "If we change her mind, we'll have another point in our favor!" he exclaimed, the number 388, pointing at the blue circle on your chest. "I don't understand."

"In the next vote, we want these games to end" said 456.

You remained silent again, not knowing what to answer. You didn't want to leave, or at least not yet. You wanted to gather more than enough money for your husband. Without realizing it, the same look as before fell on you.

[...]

There was a certain tension in the room, the participants had not yet voted but it was clear that the results would be almost even.

"My husband... has stage three lung cancer..." the woman murmured with her eyes downcast. "The doctors say that he can be cured, they would only remove the cancerous tumor but he would have to undergo several consultations and therapies that we cannot afford." The players surrounding her looked at her with pity and empathy. "I have already sold... many of our belongings, I have double shifts at work, I even mortgaged my house but it is not enough... and if I do not get enough money I will lose everything..." She did not even notice when the tears fell from her eyes without stopping.

It was horrible, most of them had debts but she would be left on the street and a widow if she did not get what she needed.

In-ho watched her silently as he bit his inner right cheek, the situation she was going through was not very different from the one he experienced, he knew that feeling of helplessness, of wanting to scream to the world how much he hated it for those cards of destiny "Does your husband know you came here?" he asked softly walking towards her to sit next to her.

She shook her head softly, wiping her tears with the sleeve of his jacket. "I just told him that I had found a way to get a lot of money." Now, that was cruel, even if she didn't achieve his goal and died on the way, her husband would think that she had abandoned him, along with his debts. "I want to go back home," she said after a few seconds of silence. "I think it's time to end this." She would vote to leave. The money they had so far was still not the amount they required, but it would be very helpful.

"You will get out of here," 001 said, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a slight closed-lip smile.

It was strange to feel that comforting and warm feeling from a stranger, but she was grateful for it. They say that eyes say more than words, and the look he gave her was one of genuine empathy.

As if he understood her in her current state of life.

"We'll get out of here," 456 now assured her with a nod.

Her knew them very little but without much hesitation her trusted them, even when Gi-hun told them about his plan on how to confront the guards and reach the people who led these games she agreed to help them, she needed the prize but not at the cost of more innocent deaths.

However, In-ho was not very happy about her following them, from the little he had read about her in her file he knew that she didn't hurt a fly, it would be useless to take her. Besides, the time to play in the yard was over, it was time to return to the command where he belonged and he didn't want the girl to be involved in this. But unfortunately for him he had no other option but to say "After you" as they left there being guided by the guard.

He was supposed to keep control over his emotions but it was inevitable, when he realized she was already too deep in his mind to let her die.

It was as if he had a chance to help his past self, that poor man who fell into misery being reflected by the young woman inexperienced in weapons who only sought to keep the love of her life alive.

It was an ironic and cruel letter from his destiny.

[crypticgrayson]

Round and Round ~ Part 2

Pairing: Front Man/Hwang In-ho x F!Reader

Warnings: Blood, Death, Smut, bit of angst

Summary: Continues on from the previous part, the aftermath of the Mingle game and Gi-hun’s plan to go after the Front Man..

Part 1

You moved your hair behind your ears before turning your head to look at the man sat next to you on the stairs leading up to your bunk beds, the circle on Young-il’s chest now replaced by a cross after the next round of voting. Even with over half of all the players dead after the mingle game, the vote turned out to be a draw. Young-il noticed you staring and drew up one of his brows, causing you to quickly turn back around.

You opened the box of food on your lap, surprised to see a fork on the side of the tin. “Something you wanted to say?” Young-il asked as he moved down a step to sit next to you, “No, not in particular” You replied. “Oh? They didn’t give me one” Young-il spoke as he nodded towards your tin, his eyes falling on the metal fork, moving your gaze towards the metal box in his hands to see he wasn’t lying.

Young-il closed the tin again with a sigh, laying it down at his feet as you started on your food, feeling Young-il’s thigh pressed against yours as he spread his legs slightly to close the distance between you. You knew he was testing you to see what your reaction would be, if you would move away, but you didn’t move an inch as you continued eating, not acknowledging the contact between you.

When you finished your food not much later, you had been starving after running around in the last game, you held out your fork to the man besides you, taking it from your outreached hand before grabbing his tin from the floor. Young-il barely managed to take a few bites when everyone’s looked up, some bloodied players with circles on their chests walking in, led by a group of pink guards. Your eyes fell on the bloody fork in one of the men’s hand, another group walking in from the other side, seeing some people you knew in this group with crosses on their chests.

“What happened?” Gi-jun asked when the x group walked over to the rest of you, the room clearly split in the middle by x’s and o’s. “Thanos and 333 broke out into a fight, 333 killed- killed him, which caused everyone to join in” Dae-ho spoke, everyone moving closer to listen in. “Did we lose many?” Jung-bae joined in, everyone turning their heads to the other group to see they were already staring. “Count how many they have, and how many we have” Young-il suggested, Gi-hun started to count your group as Young-il counted the other side.

“Well?” You asked, your gaze shifting between them. “They have 65” Young-il replied, Gi-hun sighing softly. “We have 66, they’ll never accept that for the revote tomorrow” Gi-hun spoke, most of your group nodding in agreement. “Did more people get forks in their boxes?” You asked, a few people raising their hands. “So they have weapons if they want to try and take some of us out” You continued, Gi-hun biting down on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought.

“They’ll attack us tonight, when they think we’re asleep, they only have to take out two of us to have the majority vote tomorrow” Gi-hun spoke softly, making a shiver run down your spine as you wrapped your arms around your waist. “We should take turns keeping watch, then all of us can still catch some sleep for the next game” Young-il spoke, everyone nodding in agreement. Everyone moved to their beds after a little while had passed, Gi-hun and Jung-bae taking first watch.

You laid your head down on your pillow when the lights dimmed, letting out a nervous sigh, knowing falling asleep would be difficult as hell with your heart beating loudly in your ears. After what you estimated to be an hour had passed you sat up with a sigh, wanting to join Gi-hun but a voice softly called out to you from the bed beside yours. “What are you doing?” Young-il whispered, your eyes shifting toward him. “I can’t sleep, I’ll switch with one of them” You replied, nodding your head in the direction of the two men keeping watch.

“You should really try to sleep, you need energy for tomorrow, Gi-hun and Jung-bae are keeping an eye out” He replied, “I know.. but by the time he notices someone’s all the way back here, it’ll already be too late” You spoke, making him sigh in agreement. “Come sleep next to me then, I’ll stay awake so you can catch some shut eye” Young-il told you, shifting to the side of his mattress to give you space. You had to bite back a laugh at his words, wanting to tell him how that wouldn’t be any better since your trust in him had faltered because of what happened in the past game, but you still moved out of your bed.

You took the three steps to cross the path between your bunks, sitting down next to him before lying down, your back facing him. Young-il let out a deep breath before lying down beside you, placing a hand on your arm as he moved his other hand to prop his head up, doing as he promised. His hand on your arm drawing gentle patterns through your jacket somehow calmed your nerves, and you were already fighting to keep your eyes open, sleep overtaking you not much later. Young-il looked down at your sleeping face with a sigh, carefully lifting his hand to move a loose strand of hair out of your face, moving the back of his fingers over the incredibly soft skin of your cheek. He had to hold himself back to not press his lips where his fingers had just been before he heard footsteps come in his direction, moving his hand back down to your arm.

It didn’t take long for Young-il to shake you awake, opening your eyes to see Gi-hun kneeled in front of you too. “We need to do something, they’re planning their attack and we don’t have enough people strong enough to fight back” Gi-hun softly spoke, Jung-bae stood behind him. “What are you suggesting?” Young-il asked as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, sitting up too. “Let’s wait until they attack, the guards will come to stop the fight because they don’t want too many of us to die, we steal their guns, and-..” Gi-hun spoke before stopping, furrowing his brows. “And?” Young-il questioned, Gi-hun scratching his jaw before replying, “We attack the front man”

You let out a laugh before noticing the serious look on Gi-hun’s face, “You’re being serious?” you asked. “Yes, this could be our only chance, and it’s better than having to fight them” Gi-hun replied, a silence falling between the four of you. “Let’s do it” Jung-bae spoke, “I’m in as well” You added, the three of you turning to Young-il who stayed silent. He looked up and the stoic look on his face shifted to a smile you now easily recognized as fake, “Let’s tell the others” he spoke before getting up.

You spent the rest of night waiting for movement from the other side of the room, until all your heads perked up when you heard footsteps approaching. You heard a scream from somewhere in front of you before several fights broke out, Young-il grabbing your shoulder to pull you behind him, leading you away from the fights and down the stairs. “Let’s hide so we can grab one of the guards” Young-il softly spoke, his hand still behind him to hold on to you. You looked to your side to see Gi-hun and Jung-bae fighting with two other men, holding down the urge to run over to them as you kneeled behind a flipped bed next to Young-il.

What felt like hours were a few seconds in reality before the lights came on, hearing the loud footsteps of the pink guards’ boots. “Everyone halt and lay down your weapons!” The leader of the guards called, hearing the commotion stop. You peeked past the side of the bed to see the guards were too far away to grab, before Gi-hun started another fight to try to lead a guard his way. Young-il and you exchanged a look when you heard boots coming closer, waiting until the guard was close enough before you popped out behind the cover, Young-il throwing the guard to the floor with his full weight as you grabbed the rifle from the guard’s hands, firing at the other guards as Young-il pulled you back into cover.

When you hit a few of the guards who had ran over to close in on you some of the others from your group had managed to grab a couple of rifles, all of having shot down around 10 of the guards before they decided to retreat. “Let’s go, this is our chance!” Gi-hun yelled, walking over to the pink bodies to grab whatever ammo and walkie talkies they had on them. “Who’s with us?” Jung-bae called out, the only ones to respond being Hyun-ju, Dae-ho, 156, 047 and 246. “We’ll never make it with just 9 of us” Jung-bae softly spoke, making Gi-hun shake his head, “We don’t have a choice, let’s go”

Hyun-ju explained to you how to reload the gun and check on the magazine when you made it to the stairs, before a few bullets flew just inches past your head, all of you crouching down before shooting back. “Stay close to me at all times” Young-il told you as he moved in front of you, giving him a quick nod in response before you made your way up, shooting at whatever bit of pink you saw peeking through the openings around you. “They’re coming from over here!” Gi-hun yelled as he stood at the front of your group, peeking around a corner. “Jung-bae, come with me, the rest of you cover us until I’ll call you over the walkie to tell you if it’s safe” Gi-hun continued, disappearing around the corner with Jung-bae before you could even protest. “Let’s hold our ground here!” Hyun-ju called out, each of you taking your positions as you shot at the guards making their way over. You felt in your pocket to check if the full magazine was still there, feeling the heavy weight of it in your jacket to your relief. You saw Young-il throw away his empty magazine and load his gun with a new one, checking yours to see you still had half of it left. A few minutes had passed, yet your walkie stayed silent, concern raising within you as you grabbed Hyun-ju’s arm.

“Some of us should check on them, it’s taking too long and our ammo is running out” You told her, Hyun-ju humming in agreement. “I’ll go, Y/N can come with me and we need one more” Young-il spoke, 047 raising his hand. “Let’s go” Young-il continued, running over to the door Gi-hun had jammed open with an empty rifle. You followed the dead bodies sprawled out through the hallways and stairs, until you heard gunshots come from close by. The three of you turned the final corner before your eyes fell on Gi-hun and Jung-bae, who signed for you to stay back. “They just keep coming, we need to find a way to attack them from behind” Gi-hun whispered, ducked behind the wall. “I think I saw a way back there, we’ll attack from there” Young-il replied, “Good luck” Gi-hun spoke as his eyes shifted to yours.

You followed Young-il back the way you came, 047 close behind you. Young-il shot at a guard who popped out behind a corner, before you heard his gun was empty. You had just reloaded your own and doubted for a second when Young-il threw his rifle to the floor with a loud curse, moving the band off your shoulder before handing your rifle to him. “You’re a better shot than I am” You told him, Young-il taking it from your outreached hand. You made it up another set of stairs, Young-il taking out the two guards before making it around the corner, seeing the guards at the top were stood with their backs towards you.

“This is it” Young-il softly spoke as he turned to face you and 047, “How much ammo do you have left?” He asked 047, who opened his magazine to check. “Over half” 047 told him, Young-il doing the same. “I have less than half” He told the man, 047 moving up. “I’ll take lead then, if they turn around I have more bullets to fire at them” 047 spoke, Young-il giving a nod in agreement. 047 was clearly shaking as he moved up the stairs before gunshots sounded from right next to you, 047 falling to the floor as you saw the bullet holes in his back. You took a few steps back as you looked at Young-il with his rifle lifted, feeling your heart shoot into your throat as you moved to the other side of the stairs with you back pressed against the wall before the pink guards turned in your direction.

Before Young-il could yell out a loud “No!” a gunshot sounded before you felt a sharp pain at your shoulder, falling to your knees as you moved a hand up to the painful spot. You moved your hand back down when you felt a warm liquid cover your fingers, seeing blood dripping from your hand before you lost your balance, moving your hand towards a step in an attempt to hold yourself up. “Get them!” Young-il yelled at the guards before throwing his rifle to the floor, moving over to you as he pressed his hand to your shoulder to try to stop the bleeding. You used your last strength to look at him before huffing, “I knew I-.. I shouldn’t have trusted-…” you muttered before everything went black.

~~~

You blinked a few times as you felt warmth coming from your left side, feeling that you were lying on something soft and a warm yellow light was around you. You wanted to lift your hand to rub your eyes but pain spread from your shoulder as soon as you lifted it too far up, hearing rustling coming from a bit further away as footsteps neared you. You turned your head towards the source of the warmth to see you were lying on a couch next to a fireplace, a hand moving towards the side of your face as you turned to look at who it belonged to. “Shh you’re ok, you’re safe” A voice you recognized sounded, but your vision was still too blurry to make out who it was.

Where even were you? The last thing you remembered was speaking to Gi-hun and Jung-bae as you and Young-il fought through the guards, before he-, before he shot 047. You moved to sit up but Young-il gently pushed you back down, your vision shifting into focus to see he had changed out of his player uniform into a black t shirt and pants. “Young-il, what are you-“ You tried to say but he interrupted you, sitting down on the edge of the couch to lean over you, “Let’s start with; that’s not my name, it’s In-ho, and yes I wasn’t just a player”

You parted your lips to say something but you didn’t know where to start, his whole demeanor had changed compared to who you thought him to be, looking at your shoulder when he finished taping the bandage on it. “Why?” You asked, feeling tears edging to roll out of the corner of your eyes but you quickly blinked them away, slowly sitting up which In-ho allowed this time. “That’s a very long story, the only thing you need to know is that.. I have grown very fond of you, I never meant for them to shoot you” In-ho told you, the same softness you had seen in his eyes earlier returning. “I’m so very sorry for that” He muttered before leaning towards you, pressing his lips against the only part of your shoulder that wasn’t covered in bandages. You let out a shaky breath before he moved upright again, his hand slowly running down your arm. You only now realized you were only dressed in your white but blood stained tanktop and the green sweatpants you had been in since the start of all this, wondering if he was the one to undress you and take care of your wound.

You had so many questions but your head was too clouded to even think straight, made only worse when he ran his fingers through your hair, your attraction to him somehow taking up all your thoughts instead of his sudden betrayal. You knew it would only be rational to hit him in the face and ask him where your friends were, but somehow you could only focus on his dark gaze looking over you as his hand combed through your hair. “What are you going to do to me?” You asked him, your eyes meeting his, his brows furrowing as he met your gaze. “That all depends on you, sweetheart” In-ho spoke, moving his hand out of your locks to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheekbone. Your eyes fell on the gun laying on the table behind him, In-ho noticing and turning your head to make sure your gaze was only on him

He gave you a second to reply but when you stayed silent he moved the slightest bit closer to you, his face now close enough so you could feel his breath, your lips parting automatically as you held his gaze. His hand moved down around the base of your neck, setting gentle pressure before closing the distance, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss. You let out a gasp before allowing his tongue to slip inside, his arms wrapping around you before he nudged you to lie down, moving on top of you without ever breaking the kiss.

Your hands disappeared into his soft hair which caused a moan to leave him, grinding his hips into you as his hands grazed over your sides, moving up slightly to look down at you. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the moment I laid eyes on you, jesus” He groaned, his fingers trailing down your ribs before stopping at your waist, grabbing onto the hem of your tanktop before gently stripping it off you. He moved a hand behind you when he helped you out of the top to continue on your bra, sliding it down your arms before throwing it to join your tanktop on the floor. In-ho propped himself up to take in your exposed body, pulling at your sweatpants before pushing them down your legs, the only garment covering you now being your panties.

Your fingers clawed at his back before he lowered himself down on top of you again, moving his head down to let his teeth graze over the sensitive skin of your neck before sucking at exactly the right spot, unable to hold down the moan that escaped your lips. One of his hands trailed down your chest to your stomach before stopping at the hem of your panties, his fingers teasing at the edge before moving further down, rubbing you through the soft fabric. You both let out a gasp as you moved your hands under his shirt, his warm skin under your fingertips driving you even further to the edge as you closed your eyes, pressing your face into his neck, his heavy breathing loud against your ear.

“I can barely hold myself back, I need to be inside you” In-ho groaned, a gasp escaping you before pulling off his shirt, In-ho moving back to let you move it over his head, disposing it next to your pile of clothes, his pants following soon after. “Please..” You muttered as you moved a hand up in his thick dark hair, both of your underwear joining the floor soon after, his hand back between your legs as he spat on his fingers before easing two of them inside you. You couldn’t make out which of your moans was louder when your walls clenched around his index and middle finger, his other hand digging into your waist.

“I need to fuck you” In-ho growled against your neck, moving his fingers out of you before moving them between his lips to clean off your juices, his hands on both sides of your head, dug into the pillows of the couch beneath you. “I want you to, In-ho please..” You mewled as he moved himself against you, one hand wrapped around your throat as he slowly pushed into you, closing your eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours. One of your hands was on his back, your nails pressing half moons into his skin when he picked up his pace, your other hand pulling on his hair every time he thrusted into you. In-ho pressed his body even closer to you, his arms wrapped around you as you felt his warm pants on your face, your eyes meeting his which caused a deep groan to leave him, his tongue meeting yours in a messy kiss.

“You feel like heaven, fuck” In-ho muttered against your lips, feeling that he had to hold back in order not to fill you up already, wanting to savor this moment as long as he could. “I want to feel you cum inside me, In-ho” You moaned as he looked down at you, feeling his body stutter at your words before fucking into you completely, causing a loud moan to leave you as he thrusted into you as deep as he could. “Such a good girl for me..” In-ho moaned as you felt pressure building inside your belly as he fucked you into the couch, both of your bodies starting to get covered in sweat as your moans filled the room. You hooked your legs behind his back to somehow urge him even deeper, feeling a shiver spread through him before burying himself inside you, a load growl escaping him as he pressed his face against your neck. Both of your hands in your hair as you let him ride out his orgasm, his arms wrapped around you so tight you had trouble breathing. You felt him fill you up completely as he slowed down before stopping, still buried deep inside you as you felt his cum leak out of you, dripping down your lips.

When he finally caught his breath he moved his head up to meet your cloudy gaze, his pupils dilated so wide his eyes looked black, lowering his head so his nose rubbed against yours before pressing a soft kiss on your lips. He carefully moved out of you as he moved to lie down behind you, rolling over on your side as In-ho moved against you. His arms wrapped around you as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck, moving your hand up to grab onto his lower arm as you eased against his warm chest. “In-ho, I-…” “Shh, let keep the talking for tomorrow yeah? For tonight.. I am far from done with you” He interrupted you, unable to hide the grin on your face when his lips pressed to your neck, pulling you even closer against him, knowing you were in for a very long night..

[greengoblinswifey]

Having a real sex scene with Nicholas Chavez.

Nicholas and you had always had an undeniable spark, the flirting between you two often crossing the line of professional boundaries. But today, it felt different. The scene was simple enough, a hot kiss, a slow build leading to the sex scene on screen, but as the director called, you both shared a glance that said more than words ever could.

It wasn’t the first time you'd worked together, but today felt charged, like the line between acting and reality was about to blur.

“Ready?” Nicholas asked.

You nodded, stepping closer to him, the weight of the moment settling between you. The director, who had always been a friend, gave a knowing smile, adjusting the camera and waiting for the cue.

The first kiss was soft, the chemistry undeniable. As his lips pressed against yours again, this time more urgently, a spark ignited between you. You melted into him, his arms wrapping around you sending a wave of excitement. There was no more acting now—it was just the two of you, caught up in the moment.

“Are you sure about this?” Nicholas whispered between kisses, his breath warm against your lips, his hands moving to squeeze your ass.

“Yeah. I think we both are.”

The director gave a soft chuckle, sensing the shift, but said nothing. She trusted both of you to navigate this moment with respect.

Nicholas deepened the kiss, falling back onto the bed and pulling you on top of him as you both forgot where the script ended and real feelings began. The world outside the small set faded away. You weren’t supposed to actually ride him—they would angle the camera in a way making it appear that you were but that was completely forgotten.

You hurriedly removed each other’s clothes and you took ahold of his hard, leaking cock, angling it at your entrance.

“Ride me,” he growled, just as the script said.

You lifted yourself up, your bare ass surely to show on camera then sank down onto his cock. He leaned up, his hand wrapping around your throat as you bounced on his cock.

“You’re so big,” you moaned. That wasn’t apart of the script.

Your bounces grew more frantic and he fucked up into you, his breathing growing heavier and his balls tightening as the dam was about to burst.

“So fucking sexy on top of me like this,” he murmured, adding more pressure around your neck.

The director stood, jaw agape, watching as you shook in his arms, your orgasms washing over you as you held onto each other.

“Good fucking girl, fuck,” he panted.

The sound of the director’s voice broke through the charged atmosphere. “C-cut! Um, you didn’t have to, uh, great job, guys, t-take 20.”

The director stuttered, clearly flustered by the unexpected intensity, and quickly looked down at her clipboard, trying to regain composure. You buried your face in Nicholas’ neck, unable to help the soft laugh that escaped your lips.

“God, I’m so embarrassed,” you muttered, a mix of laughter and nerves as you pulled back from him, still trying to catch your breath.

Nicholas chuckled softly, his hand resting on your as ass he gave it a squeeze. “Don't worry about it,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Wanna continue this back in my trailer?”

[moonlightwritingf1]

Tempting Surprises | LN4

ᰔᩚ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando and Y/n have been dating for two months and are both in love but haven’t confessed. One Friday, Y/n decides to surprise Lando and finally take their relationship further. She asks him for money, buys sexy lingerie, and models it for him during dinner. As she reveals the final set, the tension between them escalates.

ᰔᩚ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

ᰔᩚ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.2k

ᰔᩚ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The sharp chime of her phone jolted Y/n awake, pulling her from the lingering fragments of a dream that had left her cheeks flushed. She blinked at the screen, the sunlight streaming through her curtains catching on the text notification.

Lando: Morning, love. Need anything? Coffee? Breakfast? Your favorite croissant from that bakery you won’t shut up about?

She bit her lip, stifling a laugh. Always so eager, she thought, but the fluttering in her chest betrayed how much she secretly loved his relentless attention. Still, she couldn’t let him off easy. Not yet.

Y/n: Actually… I need to ask you for something. Something important.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, and before she could second-guess herself, she hit send. The reply came almost instantly.

Lando: Name it. Anything.

Y/n: I need money. About £500.

There was a brief pause, and she could almost picture him raising an eyebrow, his lips curling into that mischievous grin she both adored and dreaded. Then, her phone buzzed again.

Lando: Done. Check your account. And don’t even think about paying me back.

A notification pinged moments later, and her eyes widened at the figure. It was more than she’d asked for—far more. She shook her head, muttering under her breath, “He’s ridiculous.” But the warmth spreading through her chest told her everything she needed to know. He wasn’t just indulging her; he was showing her, in his own way, how much she meant to him.

By noon, she was out the door, weaving through the bustling streets of London with a singular mission. The boutique windows gleamed with temptation, and she allowed herself a rare indulgence, stepping inside one after another to select pieces that made her feel powerful, desired, dangerous. Each lingerie set was a statement, a promise she intended to deliver on later that evening.

---

Lando arrived at her apartment precisely at 7 PM, his arms filled with takeaway bags. The aroma of sushi wafted through the air as he stepped inside, his bright blue/ green eyes scanning the room for her.

“You’re late,” Y/n teased, leaning against the doorway to her kitchen, her tone light but her gaze sharp enough to make him falter.

“Traffic,” he shot back, setting the bags down on the counter. “And I had to endure the smell of raw fish for you. Do you know how disgusting that is?”

She laughed, the sound soft and melodic, and crossed the room to inspect the food. Sure enough, there were her favorite rolls, perfectly arranged, alongside his more mundane choices. “You hate sushi, yet you still bring it every time. Why?”

He shrugged, his expression casual, but the intensity in his eyes gave him away. “Because it makes you smile.”

The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. She glanced away first, busying herself with plates and chopsticks, but her heart raced as if she’d run a marathon.

They ate in comfortable silence, the tension simmering just beneath the surface. Every brush of their hands as they reached for the same piece of ginger sent sparks racing up her arm. Lando watched her intently, his gaze lingering on her lips as she chewed, on the way her hair fell over her shoulder when she leaned forward.

When the last bite was gone, she stood abruptly, a sly smile playing on her lips. “I have a surprise for you.”

His eyebrows shot up, curiosity and excitement mingling in his expression. “Oh? Should I be scared?”

“Terrified,” she replied, disappearing into her bedroom before he could respond.

Lando sank back onto the sofa, his leg bouncing with anticipation. The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, the soft click of heels echoed down the hallway. His breath caught as she stepped into view, wearing a black lace bralette that clung to her curves like a second skin, paired with matching panties that left little to the imagination. The thin straps accentuated her shoulders, and the sheer fabric teased at what lay beneath.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire.

Y/n smirked, twirling slowly to give him a full view. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I—” He cut himself off, raking a hand through his hair as his eyes darkened. “You’re killing me.”

She giggled, the sound light and infectious, before retreating to her bedroom once more. When she reappeared, it was in a deep red set, the color vivid against her skin, the plunge of the bra daringly low. She struck a pose, her confidence radiating as she strutted toward him, only to stop just out of reach.

“And this one?” she asked, her voice dripping with mischief.

Lando’s jaw tightened, his hands gripping the edge of the sofa as if to anchor himself. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Who said anything about playing fair?” she shot back, vanishing again.

By the third set—a delicate white number adorned with pearls—his resolve was crumbling. His cock strained against his jeans, the outline unmistakable, and Y/n couldn’t help but revel in the power she held over him.

“You’re enjoying this,” he accused, his voice thick with frustration and arousal.

“Immensely,” she admitted, her grin widening.

The fourth and fifth sets pushed him further to the edge, but it was the sixth and final one that shattered whatever remained of his self-control. This time, there was no lace, no frills—just two small patches of fabric barely covering her nipples and a single string nestled between her thighs. Lando’s breath hitched, his knuckles white as he gripped the sofa, his entire body taut with need.

“Y/n…” Her name sounded like a plea, a prayer, and she felt a thrill at the sound.

She strolled toward him, her hips swaying deliberately, until she stood mere inches away. “Yes, Lando?” she purred, tilting her head as if daring him to make the next move.

But he didn’t speak. Instead, his hands shot out, grabbing her waist and pulling her down onto his lap. Their lips crashed together in a searing kiss, all pretense stripped away as the tension finally snapped. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned against her mouth, his grip tightening as if afraid she might disappear.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, Lando pressed his forehead to hers, his voice trembling. “You’re going to ruin me.”

She smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Isn’t that the point?”

Lando’s lips trailed down her neck, his breath hot and urgent as he nipped at her collarbone. Y/n arched into him, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer as if she could fuse their bodies together. He murmured something incoherent against her skin, his hands sliding under her thighs to lift her effortlessly off the couch. She gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist instinctively, her heart pounding as he carried her toward the bedroom.

“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, his voice low and strained, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Do you even know what you do to me?”

She didn’t answer, just pressed her lips to his jawline, teeth grazing his stubble as she teased him with soft, fleeting kisses. Her touch was deliberate, every movement calculated to drive him wild. And it was working—his breathing was ragged, his steps quickening as they reached the doorway. He kicked it shut behind them with one foot, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

He laid her down gently on the bed, his eyes raking over her body like he couldn’t believe she was real. The last set of lingerie clung to her curves, leaving nothing to the imagination, and his hand trembled slightly as he reached out to trace the delicate lace at her hip.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. His fingers moved higher, brushing against the fabric that barely covered her breasts. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Y/n bit her lip, her cheeks flushed as she watched him. God, he looked so good, his shirt half-unbuttoned, his hair disheveled from her hands. She reached up to finish what she’d started, undoing the rest of his buttons until his chest was bare. Her fingertips brushed over his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles, and he shuddered under her touch.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need you.”

Those words seemed to break whatever restraint he had left. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as his hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her. His touch was electric, sending sparks shooting through her veins as he slid the flimsy lingerie off her shoulders. His lips followed suit, trailing down her neck, her collarbone, until he reached her breast.

Her breath hitched as his tongue flicked over her nipple, teasing her relentlessly. She squirmed beneath him, her nails digging into his back as she tried to pull him closer. “Don’t stop,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Please…”

He chuckled darkly, lifting his head to meet her gaze. “So impatient,” he teased, his thumb brushing over her other nipple. “What happened to taking our time, hm?”

Y/n groaned, throwing her head back against the pillows. “You’re killing me.”

“Good.” His grin was wicked as his hand slid lower, slipping between her thighs. She gasped, arching off the bed as his fingers found her slick heat. He circled her clit slowly, deliberately, watching her reaction with rapt attention. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.”

She moaned, her hips rocking against his hand as he increased the pressure. Her eyes fluttered shut, her entire body coiled tight with tension. But just as she felt herself teetering on the edge, he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air.

“Lando!” she whined, glaring at him through hooded eyes.

“Patience, love,” he said, his smirk widening as he stripped off the rest of his clothes. Her gaze dropped to his cock, hard and throbbing, and her mouth went dry. He climbed back onto the bed, hovering over her as he kissed his way down her body, pausing to nip at her inner thighs before finally settling between her legs.

His tongue flicked against her in slow, torturous strokes, teasing her until she was writhing beneath him. Her hands fisted in the sheets, her thighs trembling as he worked her into a frenzy. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right to make her see stars.

“Oh god—” she cried out, her back arching as pleasure crashed over her in waves. She came undone, her vision blurring as he continued to lap at her, drawing out every last tremble until she collapsed bonelessly against the mattress.

Lando gave her a moment to recover, kissing his way back up her body until his lips met hers. She could taste herself on his tongue, and it only made her crave him more. She reached between them, wrapping her hand around his cock and guiding him to her entrance.

“Inside me,” she demanded, her voice shaking with need. “Now.”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing. “Are you sure—”

“Yes,” she interrupted, pulling him closer. “I’m sure.”

With a groan, he pressed into her, filling her inch by agonizing inch until he was fully sheathed. They both stilled for a moment, foreheads pressed together as they adjusted to the sensation. Then Y/n shifted her hips, urging him to move.

Lando obliged, setting a slow, steady pace that quickly built into something more frantic. His thrusts became deeper, harder, each one driving her closer to the edge. She clutched at his shoulders, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks in his skin as she urged him to go faster.

“God, you feel—” he broke off, his voice strangled as he buried his face in her neck. “You feel so fucking good.”

She could only nod, her own words lost in the haze of pleasure clouding her mind. Every nerve in her body was alight, every touch, every movement sending ripples of ecstasy through her. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned in response, his rhythm faltering.

When she felt him tense, his thrusts becoming erratic, she knew he was close. He pulled out suddenly, his hand wrapping around his cock as he spilled himself across her stomach and pussy. The sight of him, breathless and undone, sent a shiver down her spine.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound in the room their labored breathing. Then Lando glanced down at her, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “You look so fucking hot like this,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction.

Y/n laughed softly, her cheeks burning as she reached for the sheet to clean herself up. But his hand stopped her, catching her wrist mid-motion.

“No,” he said, his tone firm but gentle. “Leave it. You’re perfect.”

Lando’s hand lingered on her wrist, his fingertips brushing against her skin in a way that made her pulse quicken. “Leave it,” he repeated, his voice low and husky, the words settling into the air like a command she couldn’t ignore. His eyes held hers, intense, filled with something she couldn’t quite name—admiration, desire, maybe even tenderness. She felt exposed, not just physically but emotionally, under the weight of his gaze.

Y/n let out a shaky breath, her heartbeat still racing. She glanced down at herself, her stomach streaked with him, and a flush crept up her neck. “You’re insane,” she muttered, though there was no bite to her words. Her voice was soft, almost shy, as if she weren’t entirely sure how to handle this version of him—the one who looked at her like she was everything.

He laughed, the sound warm and rich, and it sent a ripple of warmth through her chest. “Insane for you,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder. His lips were gentle, almost reverent, and it made her shiver.

She turned her head to look at him, her cheeks still pink. “You’re impossible,” she said, but there was a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“And yet here you are,” he teased, his fingers trailing up her arm. “Stuck with me.”

For a moment, they stayed like that, tangled together in the quiet aftermath. The room smelled of them, of sweat and sex, but there was also something sweet lingering in the air—something undeniably intimate. Y/n wasn’t used to this, to being so completely seen, so completely known by someone. It terrified her, but it also exhilarated her in a way she couldn’t explain.

Finally, Lando shifted, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her closer. “Come on,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “Let’s clean up.”

She hesitated, her body stiffening slightly at the thought of moving. But then he was sitting up, his hands gently guiding her to do the same. When she stood, her legs felt unsteady beneath her, but Lando was there instantly, his arm slipping around her waist to steady her.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly, his tone reassuring.

She nodded, letting him lead her toward the bathroom. The tile floor was cool beneath her feet, and the air was thick with steam as Lando turned on the shower. He adjusted the temperature carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration, before stepping back to let her step in first.

The water was warm, almost soothing as it cascaded over her skin. She closed her eyes, letting it wash away the remnants of what had just happened. But then she felt him behind her, his chest pressing against her back as his arms wrapped around her waist.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her shoulder.

She tilted her head, glancing back at him. “For what?”

“For tonight,” he said simply. His voice was soft, almost vulnerable, and it caught her off guard. “For trusting me.”

Her breath hitched, her heart swelling in her chest. She didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded, her fingers curling around his forearm as he held her.

They stood like that for a while, the water running over them, washing away the tension and the heat that had been building between them all night. It was strangely peaceful, standing there with him, their bodies pressed together without any expectation or urgency. Just… them.

Eventually, Lando reached for the soap, spreading it between his hands before smoothing it over her shoulders and down her arms. His touch was slow, deliberate, and she couldn’t help but lean into it.

“You know,” she began, her voice hesitant as she stared at the tiles in front of her. “I didn’t actually need the money.”

His hands paused for a moment, and she could feel his confusion radiating through the silence. Then, softly, he asked, “What do you mean?”

She swallowed hard, her cheeks heating as she forced the words out. “I… I used it to buy the lingerie. All of it.”

There was a beat of silence, and then he chuckled, the sound low and warm against her ear. “Fuck, Y/n,” he said, his hands resuming their gentle movements. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever done.”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Your idiot,” he corrected, his tone teasing but sincere.

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and she turned to face him, her hands resting lightly against his chest. “Is that what you are?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at her, his expression softening as his hands came up to cup her face. “If you’ll have me,” he said, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone.

She didn’t know what to say, her mind racing as she searched his eyes for some hint of doubt or insincerity. But all she found was him—raw, unfiltered, and utterly honest. And for the first time, she let herself believe it.

Leaning up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was softer, slower than any they’d shared before. It wasn’t desperate or hungry; it was real. And when she pulled back, his hands were still on her face, his forehead resting against hers.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

She smiled faintly, her fingers tracing patterns against his chest. “Funny,” she whispered. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

They stayed like that for a while longer, the water running over them as they held each other close. There were no more words, no teasing or jokes—just the two of them, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

But eventually, Lando broke the silence, his voice light and mischievous again as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “So… does this mean I get to pick out your next set of lingerie?”

She swatted his arm, laughing despite herself. “Don’t push your luck, Norris.”

He grinned, his hands sliding down to her hips as he pulled her closer. “Oh, I think my luck’s pretty damn good right now.”

[uniasus]

If there's anything Dani regretted about traveling it was how out of pocket it made her. She hadn't realized Danny and Jazz disappeared for four whole months.

Four months!

She lost so much time searching for the only family that cared.

There was mild concern from those in the Realms, four months to essentially immortal beings was nothing, but Sam and Tucker at least shared her frantic concerns and helped hide the disappearance from Jack and Maddie. Better they think their kids had just taken a summer job instead of coming home between school years...

"This is solar powered, ecto powered, and has a usb-c port," Tucker said when he slapped a smartwatch on Dani's wrist four months ago. "It will never die. We want weekly updates."

And so Dani traveled again. Systematically searching. She carried a photo of Danny and Jazz, making stops at coffee shops, hospitals, and junk shops to flash the image and ask if anyone had seen her siblings.

A little batting of the eyelashes, a bitten lip, watery eyes. A girl on the edge of crying got attention, and a pretty girl got people to ramble about potential sightings and other places to look.

She wasn't above it. She wanted her family found and safe.

But months of tireless searching with no evidence of Danny and Jazz was disheartening. She was beginning to lose hope.

"Do you really think they might be abroad?" Sam asked on a weekly call.

Dani shrugged, floating on her back through the Ghost Zone on one of its slow-moving currents. "It's been almost a year. If they had easy access to travel or a phone, they would have reached out."

"And you think Russia is the answer?"

"Rural Serbia is huge! If a random portal dropped them there, Danny could like, build them an ice shelter but cell towers are rare-"

"Ladies!" Tucker cut through the building fight

Dani snapped her mouth close, as did Sam.

"Sorry," Sam eventually said. "I'm just worried."

Dani bit her tongue. She knew that, and Sam and Tucker had been worrying longer.

"We do have to consider that Danny and Jazz fell through a portal through time," Tucker said. It was the first time any of them said it aloud.

Dani bit her lip. Portals, especially natural ones, were unpredictable. She'd asked Wulf for help at the beginning, but without seeing the original portal he had no clue where to slash a portal to.

She would much rather Danny be in the deep tundra than a hundred years in the past or future. She hugged herself, cool arms against her bare midriff. Now that Tucker stated the dreaded theory, the thoughts of never seeing her family again took over. She felt queasy.

"Danny would build a portal," Sam insisted.

"If he could," Tucker agreed.

Something beneath Dani tugged at her ponytail. She flipped over, floating on her stomach, and looked down.

Dani spent more time traveling the mortal realm than the Infinite Realms, but she knew this area well enough to know that this portal was new.

A potentially stable portal, seeing as how it'd lasted more than ten seconds.

"So i just found a portal," Dani said, interrupting Sam and Tucker. "Start a timer."

A beep came over the line. "Describe it," Tucker said.

Dani flew around the thin ectoplasmic disk, sharing her sights. It was smaller than the Fenton portal. Narrower, shorter. Same direction of swirl. Less obvious border, but a noticeable difference in color compared to the surrounding ectoplasm. It had a slight sucking effect, just enough to cause a local breeze to tousle her hair, which was more than the Fenton portal nowadays.

"Probably to a spot that has lower ambient ecto-"

"That's every place, Tuck-" Dani could feel Sam's eye-roll.

"And it hasn't changed? Timer is at two minutes."

"Nope," Dani chirped.

"It's stable," Sam breathed. "Think Danny built it?"

"If he has, why hasn't he returned home?"

"Well, I'm about to find out."

"Dani," Sam chastised. "You can't just fly through a strange portal!"

"Watch me."

******

Damian didn't want to be playing guard for an interdimensional closet portal, but until they had a camera that wouldn't fry after a few hours, physical checks were necessary. Danny's descriptions of the beings that could come through were alarming, but none of the Bats could bring themselves to destroy the portal. Not if it really was the Fenton's only way home.

At least he had unfettered, unsupervised access to the Fentons' apartment. He shamelessly snooped, pulling open dresser drawers and poking under the sink. His siblings might call his crush on Danny puppy love, and privately he'd admit that his crush wouldn't go anywhere due to the age difference, but he still couldn't help but sniff Danny's shampoo.

He should pack a bag for the Fentons. Maybe grab something he could use as leverage against his siblings. Though, Danny didn't seem to have gym clothes for Brown to drool over...

Something in the air electrified and Damian spun around to see a figure step out of the portal.

Long black hair in a ponytail tail, with fluffy bangs over her face. Short, but with long legs in bootcut jeans. A tight white crop top, her midriff slightly obscured by a red sweatshirt tied around her waist.

"Fuck," Damian whispered.

Oracle was immediately in his ear. "Robin, report."

The girl turned to him, hands up ready to fight. Big blue eyes. Nibbled pink lips. Danny's face on a girl his age.

"The Fentons' have a younger sister." He couldn't help the slight rise in his voice.

It took Oracle a millisecond to understand. She burst out laughing. "Those Fenton siblings, huh?"

The girl marched toward him, eyes flashing. "You better take me to Danny and Jazz right now or I'll-"

"Okay."

She pulled up, and Damian did his best to push down his blush. Brown was going to tease him so much over this.

Danny: Ugh, they're back again

Jazz: Don't make that face at paying customers. Do you want to make a portal back home?

Danny rolling his eyes: Yes

Jazz: Then we need to get enough money to buy the parts. If that means waiting tables at a barely legal dinner, where idiots hit on us, then we wait those stupid tables. Now go over there and get the Waynes to leave us a 200 tip.

Danny: Fine, but only if you do too!

Jazz: *Tighten her apron straps into an hourglass figure* Way ahead of you.

Danny: *Rolling eyes but does the same*

Meanwhile with the Waynes

Bruce: It's so nice to go out to eat with you all

Alfred: Indeed. It's a nice change, don't you agree, children?

Wayne kids: *hyperventilating*

Bruce Not looking up from his phone: The Fenton siblings?

Alfred: Indeed, sir. It seems like Master Dick, Master Jason, and Miss Cass are going to attempt to speak to Ms. Fenton today. Master Tim, Master Damian, Master Duke, and Miss Steph don't seem mentally ready to look Mister Fenton in the eye. Bets?

Bruce: Dick chokes on his fork again. Tim face plants on the table, and Steph once again speaks in gibberish after forgetting the entire English language.

Alfred: Very good, sir.

[shurisneakers]

saw your requests were open and i figured i would humbly aid 🫡

everyone is always like “oh! bucky with a golden retriever reader this! bucky with a sunshine reader that!” what about bucky with a reader who’s just as moody as he is??

no one ever writes two grumps together and i think it would be an interesting dynamic

Summary: It's New Years Eve and this man simply refuses to do anything but be a pain in your ass.

Warnings: cursing, alcohol

A/N: Sid. did you know. did you know that you're literally a genius. you're so right about grumpy x grumpy. i do not know if I have done this justice but I wrote this out on my phone because I like this request so much thank you for sending one in 😭❤️

New Year’s Eve is a migraine wrapped in tinsel and cheap champagne. You’ve seen too many years roll over into nothing to care anymore.

Doesn’t matter. You’re here because the bar’s open, and when someone says “open bar,” you take it as a challenge to see how open it can really be.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asks.

“Whatever’s most expensive.”

He ducks under the counter, comes back with a bottle that looks more like a museum piece than alcohol. Fancy glasswork, gold lettering, the works.

He starts, “This one’s got notes of—”

“Let me see,” you interrupt.

The second the bottle’s in your hands, you turn and walk away.

He sputters behind you, but you wave him off. “Put it on the billionaire’s tab."

You snake through the crowd and confetti, nodding at a few familiar faces but not stopping for any. Emergency exit in sight, you take a seat where you can watch the chaos unfold while staying out of it.

"Pass the bottle."

You don't even bother looking at him as you respond, "Go steal your own."

"You took the most expensive one."

"Get another one."

"This is easier."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Real festive of you."

Still, despite your best efforts, he’s already taking a seat, uninvited.

You take another swig before passing the bottle to him without another word.

He glances at you. "Why are you here?"

"Well, it was quiet before someone showed up."

"Must'a really pissed you off," he says, tipping the bottle back.

God, Bucky was fucking annoying. But his cheeks are flushed pink and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbow.

"Why are you here?" you scowl.

"It's quiet," he replies, like just knows it'll make you mad. He's right.

"You’re in my space.”

“This isn’t your space.”

“I was here first.”

“Congrats. Want a medal?”

"Leave."

"No," he states, resolutely.

Bucky’s the human equivalent of a rock in your shoe—persistent, irritating, and impossible to ignore.

You feel face warm with irritation. "Where's your date gone?"

"Nat set me up, I've never met her before," he says, as though it’s the least surprising thing in the world. "Haven't seen her in thirty minutes."

"What, you couldn't brood your way into her pants?"

He gives you a dry, unimpressed look. "I don't kiss and tell."

"Doesn't look like you're doing any kissing at all," you scoff.

He tips the bottle back, takes a slow drink, then hands it to you. "You think about me kissing a lot?"

"I don't think about you."

He snorts, low and humorless, and you hate that it makes you want to laugh.

Bucky's fucking annoying. He's run his hand too many times through his hair, and there’s a smudge of something—lipstick, maybe—on his collar, and he's stretched out too damn much, like he's right at home.

He sends you a look. It makes you want to hide. You hate the way his eyes linger, like he’s waiting for you to flinch.

"Bottle," you demand.

He hands it over silently, crossing his arms over his chest, staring right ahead.

"How much longer?" he asks, checking his watch.

"You can leave."

"Sure can," he says, but doesn’t move.

"So leave."

"No."

You stare at him. "Find somewhere else to sit."

"No," he replies.

The minutes stretch. The bottle passes back and forth, your irritation simmering every time he exhales, every time he looks at you like he’s got something to say but doesn’t.

Bucky was fucking annoying. He smelt like expensive cologne and Tide detergent. His eyes are tired and his voice is scratchy. when he shifts beside you, it’s like he takes up more space than anyone has a right

He holds his hand out for the bottle. You give it to him.

"What are you gonna do at midnight?" he asks.

"Finish this bottle."

"What about after?"

"I'll get another one."

Bucky rolls his eyes. “That all?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” You glare at him, but he doesn’t flinch. He never does.

“Good."

His jaw’s tense, his eyes dark and sharp, and for a second, you think maybe he’s as pissed at himself as you are.

Silence falls. It’s not comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable either. It’s just there. Like him.

"What’re you gonna do at midnight? Cry into whiskey?” you ask pointedly.

“I could, but you drank it all." He rolls his eyes.

There's a lot left. You give him the bottle. He takes it without a word, fingers brushing against yours.

Bucky takes a swig. “No one waiting for you at midnight?"

"Loads," you scoff. "Got a line out the damn door waiting to kiss me."

"Uh huh," be says.

There's silence.

You look at him, only for find him eyeing you.

“No one waiting for you?”

You scoff. “Why, you volunteering?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just studies you with those sharp, unreadable eyes. “Maybe.”

"Sure, Barnes, I'll kiss you at midnight," you drag sarcastically.

His face doesn't shift. Your brows furrow.

"Christ, you're bein' serious," you mumble.

He shrugs non committedly. "I could think of worse things to do."

"Wow," you say dryly. "Charming."

"Just sayin'."

With two minutes to go, you find that it's harder to look him in the eye. Your heart stumbles over itself, and you take another drink to cover the sudden heat crawling up your neck.

Either the whiskey was really starting to take hold, or the damn spirit of the damn season was getting to you.

"Look, I wasn't plannin' on asking anyone else," he says.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Do with that what you will," he says, taking a swig.

"What about your date?" you test.

"Don't think she remembers I exist."

You observe him. His shirt is unbuttoned, and his coat jacket lay on his lap. His bowtie also hung precariously from his neck.

Bucky was really fucking annoying. His hair is toussled and his stubble is rough and you're fairly certain his nose is sunburnt. You know this because you've been staring at him every day from the second he stepped foot in the compound, withdrawn and scowling.

It's late and you're tired of a lot of things and you're careless, so you stare too long. He catches you.

"What?" he bites.

"I'm assessing," you say, then add grudgingly, “You're not... terrible."

Which is a lie. He's beautiful. He's acutely aware of this on some days. Those days are harder for you.

He stares at you. "I can see why there's a line out the door for you."

"Go join them," you say. "I'll finally get some fuckin' quiet."

He exhales a short laugh. "No."

You can hear the crowd shouting numbers, but it’s distant, unimportant. Bucky’s eyes are on you, steady.

The crowd cheers.

Bucky's really fucking annoying.

But he kisses you like he's liked you all his life. Like he's real tired of waiting. It lingers just long enough to make your stomach flip when you realise he still tastes like whiskey.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t look smug. He doesn’t say anything at all. Just hands you the bottle and leans back like nothing happened.

His cheeks are red. His lips are swollen. He's never looked prettier in his damn life.

“Happy New Year,” you mutter, staring at the bottle because you can’t look at him.

“Sure,” he says, voice low, almost hoarse.

[jobean12-blog]

Lovestruck

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Little do you know, after being in the wrong place at the wrong time- that you've gotten yourself on the radar of some very bad men. Thankfully, you now have the protection of one very good man (and Steve, also good) but when Javi first lays eyes on you he knows he wants so much more than just to protect you.

Author's Note: Again, I apologize for deleting this post a second time. The tags are just not cooperating. I really hope things work this time! Thank you again to those who gave me notes, hope you can enjoy again! No reason for more Javi other than I can't seem to get over him and I don't want to so yay! He's been on my mind extra lately. Wishing you all a very happy New Year filled with love, health and happiness! Thank you for all the support and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of tension and flirting, some soft sweetness too, Javi is forward but not in a bad way, he saves the day in more ways than one and might be in a little over his head (which he's not used to), fingering, smut (unprotected p in v- but just for fanfic folks lol)

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“Keep staring like that and you’re gonna blow our cover man.”

Steve’s comment goes unnoticed as Javi continues to do just that. Stare.

You’re standing against the bar, drink in hand and talking with your friend, unaware of the pair of dark chocolate eyes glued to you.

“Hey,” Steve says again.

Javi tears his eyes away from you and pins Steve with a glare.

“What?”

Steve gives him an exasperated look. “You’re not supposed to fuck her. Just protect her.”

Javi grunts before finishing off his drink, his eyes sliding back to you as you saunter over to the juke box.

He’s been watching you for days now, his infatuation only growing the more he learns the little nuances of your body and the brightness of your smile. Barely conscious of his feet moving and Steve’s disgruntled objections, he starts toward you, unsure of his intention but at this point, unable to stop himself.

You shuffle through the songs on the screen, chewing your lip with indecision. His teeth sink into his own bottom lip in response, wishing it were yours. As he gets closer, your startled gaze flies up to meet his.

Lightning rockets through his system. If he thought you were beautiful in the photos and from across the room, it’s nothing compared to what he sees standing in front of him now.

He takes a step closer. Talking to women is like second nature to him, yet he finds himself stranded in silence, second-guessing everything that pops into his head.

And if he doesn’t speak soon, his closeness will begin to alarm you. Exactly the opposite of what he should be doing.

“I can’t let you do that,” he blurts out.

“Can’t let me do what, exactly?” you retort, turning to face him with a raised brow.

Your voice slides like silk across his skin and it takes him a minute to recapture his train of thought. He tilts his head toward the song on the screen of the juke box.

“Not that song.”

You smirk. “Elaborate.”

“Everyone picks that song. Aren’t you tired of it?”

You peek up at him, a laugh flirting around the edges of your mouth.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“Of course,” he replies. He tries not to stare at your lips. “I like to dance so for me, something like…”

He leans in and starts to scroll through the song list, his warmth and scent sweeping over you in a magnetic wave.

He stops on a song you don’t recognize but when it begins to play the beat is lively and makes you want to move.

Your eyes meet his once more, humor lurking in their depths. “I like it.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nod and with a sultry smile over your shoulder you head back toward the bar and your friend, an extra sway to your hips that matches the music.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Steve says when Javi returns with a smug grin. “You could blow our cover.”

“How?” Javi asks before he motions for the bartender.

“I’m surprised you let a woman get to you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Are you just going to answer all my questions with more questions?”

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts with his last string of words and he waits as Javi just looks at him blankly.

When the song ends Javi turns his attention back to you and he finds you watching him. Without a second thought he walks over.

He smiles at your friend then asks you, “what did you think?”  

“I liked it,” you tell him. “I’ve never heard it before.”

“I should definitely play another one then. And you should dance with me.”

He catches your sharp intake of breath and realizes you might be waiting for a significant other. He feels a sharp jolt of jealousy that surprises him.

“Are you here with someone?” he asks.

Your brow quirks at his growled-out question, but you answer anyway.

“Just my friend here,” and you motion to Samantha.

Relief washes over his expression.

“So why not dance with me?”

“I’m here to spend time with Sam,” you explain, even though you can tell she wants you to go dance with him.

“She can hang out with Steve,” Javi says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder in Steve’s direction. “He’s loads of fun.”

“He’s cute,” Sam chimes in, giving Steve a little wave.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Javi says, earning a chuckle from both you and Sam.

“So, is that a yes?”

You look incredulous. “No. The only thing I know about you is that you like to dance.”

“What would you like to know about me?” he shoots back as he leans against the bar, looking more than comfortable.

“Nothing. I’m not dancing with you. In fact, how do I know you’re not some creep trying to abduct me.”

At your unintentionally keen words Javi gives up the battle with a smile. “I’ll get you dancing sweetheart.”

“We’ll see about that…”

“Javi,” he finishes and holds out his hand. “Javier Peña”

You hesitate a moment but then hold out your hand and give him your name-even though he already knows it.

“Pleasure,” he croons as he lifts your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles.

Warmth tingles up your arm and down your spine, rendering you speechless for a moment. Samantha pulls you from your stupor when she nudges you in the side.

“Enjoy your night ladies,” he says but not before looking you straight in the eye and adding, “I’ll be seeing you again.”

When Javi is back at Steve’s side he sighs.

“What happened? She tell you to fuck off?”

Javi practically rolls his eyes. “Not exactly.”

“Well, hope you didn’t freak her out too much because we have a job to do.”

As the night goes on you catch Javi looking your way more than once and you find it hard not to look back. He doesn’t approach you again though and the disappointment you feel is unexpected.

By eleven pm Sam is ready to go so you say goodbye and go to use the restroom before heading out. The night air is damp with impending rain, and you jog quickly to your car, hopping in and setting your bag down on the seat.

You put the key in the ignition and turn it. Nothing happens. No lights. No sound. Nothing.

“SHIT!” you shout and hit the steering wheel. Is it your battery? A faulty starter?

You’re just about to dial Sam when you hear a light rap at your window. You jump but quickly see that it’s Javi and let out a relieved breath.

You press the button to roll down the window.

“Problem?” he asks with a sideways smile.

“My car won’t start,” you sigh.

His lips turn downward. “Shit.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I can try to jump it if you want,” Javi offers.

“Really?”

“Of course.”

Javi pulls his car up close and starts to fiddle around in the trunk for the cables. Once he has everything ready you meet him by the hood.

“How come you were out here anyway?” you ask, watching as his long fingers make easy work of the clamps and wires.

“Just a feeling,” he says nonchalantly.

After following his directions and trying to start your car again you realize it must be more than the battery and let out a string of curses.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Javi says. “I’ll give you a ride home and you can deal with in the daylight.”

“I can just call Samantha.”

“You can, but it’s after midnight,” Javi says, looking at his watch. “I’m already here.”

You study him. His strong jaw, the dark hair that falls boyishly over his forehead, and the way the open collar of his shirt frames his long neck, the tempting hint of collarbone peeking out just enough to make you want to kiss it.

“Ok,” you say without further thought.

He opens your door and helps you out then waits for you to lock it before he opens the passenger door to his car.

“What about Steve?” you ask suddenly.

“Steve?” Javi repeats. “Oh, yeah. He’s fine. Has his own car.”

When he pulls up to your building he frowns when you don’t wait for him to open your door. You ride up the elevator in silence, the atmosphere between you feels charged.

You’d been more than willing to go up to your apartment yourself, but Javi insisted on walking you.

So, when the elevator opens you breeze out and past him, taking quick steps to your door.

“This is me,” you say without turning around.

You unlock the door and open it, stepping inside and setting your bag down. When you turn, Javi is filling the doorway, one hand on his hip and the other casually resting above his head on the frame like he owns the place.

“I don’t live far. If you need anything…” He holds out a card, his name and number printed on it under the Police Department symbol.

“You’re a cop? You could have told me this earlier. I would have been less worried about you murdering me.”

“DEA agent,” he corrects. “And that was never my intention.”

Your eyes meet and you feel a frisson of heat at the intensity there.

“Well, thank you for the ride.”

“Anytime sweetheart. I’ll see you around.”

He throws you a wink and pushes away from the doorframe, his long legs taking him easily down the hall before he rounds the corner and disappears.

The next morning you drag yourself out of bed and get ready to go about your day. Your thoughts are mostly occupied by Javi, and you’re almost done with your coffee before your brain registers the rest of the night and how your car failed to start.

“Shit,” you grit out. “Ughhhh.”

You think about calling Javi and asking him to take you back to the bar to get your car but then you think it might be asking too much after what he did last night. Instead, you call Sam, who is happy to come get you.

Your car is just where you left it and so is an unmarked cop car, parked right next to yours.

Javi steps out into the sunshine, a sleek pair of aviators perched on his nose and a smile on his face.

“There you are sunshine. I was wondering when you’d be back to get your car.”

He walks close and nods a greeting to Samantha.

You stand there like a fish out of water, your mouth hanging open in shock.

“What are you doing here?” you finally ask.

He shrugs with a devious grin. “Working.”

“The bar is closed.”

Ignoring your comment he continues with, “you have someone to fix this?”

“You mean like a mechanic?”

“Yeah sweetheart.”

“I was just going to call the closest shop.”

He shakes his head, clearly not liking your idea. “I got a guy. Come on.”                 

Samantha leaves you with Javi and he takes you to the shop, helping you settle everything and getting you a good price.

“I hope it doesn’t take too long to fix,” you sigh. “But thank you for helping me out.”

“Anytime gorgeous…now how about that dance?”

“You’re still hung up on that?”

He raises his brows with a tilt of his head, his smile devious.

“Fine, but how am I getting back to the bar tonight. No car. Remember.”

“I’ll pick you up. Seven.”

With that he pulls up to your place and practically jumps out of the car before it stops, rushing around the hood to get your door before you can open it.

You step out and he reaches over you to shut it, trapping you against the car.

“Thanks again,” you whisper as you lean into him.

He dips his head, but you can’t see his eyes, so you reach up to pull the sunglasses off his face. He smiles, lifting his eyes from your mouth to meet your gaze.

You hang them on his shirt, the collar open like it always seems to be, and smooth your hand down his chest. He watches you intently, one hand sliding off the car to settle on your waist. He tugs you forward, lining your body up with his using his other hand to cup your cheek and brush a calloused thumb across your soft skin.

“I told you sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Anytime.”

With one final glance at your lips he slowly moves away and you’re thankful for the strong metal of the car at your back, keeping you upright.

With a steadying breath you peel yourself away and head toward your building, looking over your shoulder to find him leaning against the car, long legs crossed at the ankle and his arms crossed along his chest.

His glasses are still hanging from his shirt, and his hair is slightly messy from the breeze. Your eyes linger and he smiles, pointing his long finger in your direction when he says, “you’re mine tonight.”

The knock at your door makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Be right there,” you shout.

You open the door and his hot gaze sweeps over you from head to toe.

“Hi Javi…”

Before the words are completely out of your mouth, he has you spun around and backed against the wall.

“Did you get all dressed up for me sweetheart?”

Biting your lip, you nod, loving the way your answer makes his eyelids lower; his breath quicken.

He dips his head and runs his nose along your neck with a deep inhale, then places a soft kiss just under your ear. His lips move across your cheek and stop just above your mouth.

“Ready to dance?”

Your knees nearly buckle underneath you, but his weight keeps you upright and you manage a nod.

The bar is crowded but you and Javi find yourself an open space at the bar and order drinks. He stays close. A hand always at your back or on your waist and when he sits on the stool, placing his feet on the bottom bar, he pulls you between his spread legs.

Your hands land on his thighs and you dig your nails in.

He growls into your ear and smooths his hand up your spine, grabbing the back of your neck to drag your face closer.

Right when you think he’s going to kiss you, he stands and pulls you toward the juke box, scrolling through the songs until he finds the one he wants. He presses play and holds his hand out.

You place your fingers in his palm, and he closes his hand around yours. With an ease that steals your breath he tucks you against him as the music starts, slow and sultry. The way he moves his hips so sensually borders on inappropriate, but you can’t find it in you to care.

Instead, you lose yourself in the way he moves and the way he feels. It’s the best kind of foreplay and when the song ends you cling to him, wishing the music could go on forever.

You tuck your head against his chest, but he presses two fingers under your chin, lifting your face to his. He’s grinning, and the way it exaggerates the lines around his eyes and softens the angles of his face makes a flutter erupt in your stomach.

A haze of electricity settles around you and you’re unable to look away. His eyes drop to your mouth and his warm breath fans your cheek as he bends, brushing his lips lightly across yours.

His moustache is soft but still tickles your skin and you want nothing more than to feel it along every inch of your body. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, and you whisper his name just before your lips meet.

But then his mouth is gone, and a rush of cool air fills the space between your bodies.

“Steve,” you say with confusion.

Steve stands next to you with a tight grip on Javi’s arm.

“We have to go. Now,” Steve says.

“Javi?” Your stomach is fluttering for a whole different reason now, nervousness and fear taking over.

“I’m sorry sunshine,” he says, wrapping you up in his arms. “I need you to go home. Right now.”

“But…” you start, clinging to him.

“Please,” he begs. “Just trust me. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”

“I don’t have a car,” you sputter out.

“Here,” he says and reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his keys before dropping them into your hand. “Right home ok?”

“Ok,” you say while nodding your head vigorously. “But I don’t understand…”

“I know,” he says, grabbing your face with his hands. “I promise I’ll explain later.”

He stares at you, clearly torn between wanting to kiss you and having to leave. You make the decision for him and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering long enough that when you pull away his eyes are still closed.

“Be careful,” you whisper.

“You too,” he says before jogging off with Steve, but not without looking back one last time.

Back at your apartment you wait and pace the floor. There isn’t much more you can do and it’s driving you nuts.

By the time you hear the knock on your door it’s past midnight and you’ve fallen asleep on the couch. You wake with a start and stand on shaky legs. Thankfully, you have enough sense to check the peephole before opening the door.

On the other side stands Javi. His leather jacket hangs open and his hair is messy and hanging loosely in front of his forehead. He looks tired but otherwise ok.

“It’s me sweetheart,” he says quietly.

Your door flies open, and you throw yourself at him. He catches you and lets out a huffed laugh that quickly dies off when you slide down his body and move back, a clear invitation.

 His eyes rake down your body, lingering on the way your dress is rumpled and sitting high on your hips, exposing the soft skin of your legs. With an audible swallow he takes a step inside, and you shut the door with a definitive slam.

“Are you ok?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

You can’t blink away from his steady gaze and your blood seems to vibrate. After a calming breath you point to the couch.

“I want to know what’s going on.”

He moves past you and takes your hand in his, tugging you toward the couch before he sits. You stand at the edge, waiting.

His head drops and he presses the palm of his hand to his forehead.

“I…you already know I’m a DEA agent.”

You nod.

“And Steve and I work together…we’ve been trying to bust this drug trafficking group for a while now and somehow you got on their list…”

“List?” you repeat, feeling your palms sweat.

He stands again and takes a tentative step closer.

“Yeah, wrong place wrong time type of thing and it got you on their radar. We got tipped off from one of our informants and Steve and I were put in place for protection.”

“So, all the flirting, the dancing…you’re only here because you’re protecting me? Not because…”

He holds up a hand to stop you.

“No sweetheart,” he says. “Well, I mean yes initially that’s all it was but then I saw you and like a dick couldn’t stay away and…I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

He looks up at you with pleading brown eyes.

“Actually, that’s a lie. I wanted to take you home from the moment I first saw you and it took everything in me not to.”

You can see he’s starting to ramble, and you soften at the way he seems desperate to make you understand.

“I promise this has nothing to do with work…I want to be here…”

“Javi.”

“And you’re safe. I promise that too. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Javi.”

He opens his mouth to speak again but you press a firm finger to his lips. He goes silent and with your gentle push falls to the couch again.

Slowly, you climb over him, settling in his lap on top of his thighs. He stares at you, eyes shadowed, and adjusts his posture to set two large hands on your waist, warm and strong.

You lean in but he meets you halfway, crashing his lips to yours. His mouth is soft but commanding and he tilts his head, coming at you better somehow, and deeper, his lips parting, one hand wrapping around your hip to pull you flush against him, the other sliding up your neck, cupping your face.

You’re undone by the way his breath shakes against your lips and the quiet groans he strangles down when you sweep your tongue across his.

You roll your hips against him, but instead of bringing relief it only makes you wilder. His mouth chases your kiss, swallowing the sound you make when he rocks up, the thick line of his cock pressing exactly where you need him.

His hand roams up your back, around your ribs, cupping your breast while the other drags you down again, pinning you to his body. You’re rewarded with another groan, and another when you grind against him.

He doesn’t stop you as you reach for his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders before going for his shirt, one by one undoing the buttons until you feel the warmth of his skin along your palms.

His mouth is on your neck, his fingers curling around the strap of your dress, dragging it down your shoulder and lower, until your bra goes with it, and you’re bare to his mouth. He sucks and kisses and your fingers find purchase in his soft hair, pulling and tugging when he continues and his lips close around your nipple in a delicate bite.

With soft grunts into your skin, he encourages you to pull harder, moving with the gesture to where you want him. Rough and desperate hands sneak under your dress to slide your panties down.

“Sweetheart?” he asks into your neck, and you nod, because frankly, he has permission to do whatever he wants.

Long fingers wrap imposingly around your thighs and his palm slides back up, teasingly slow, his kiss still rough, and then his fingertips graze over you, slippery and hot for him. His mouth goes soft and overcome against yours before he pulls away a fraction, watching your face as he fucks you with one finger, and then two, achingly slow.

And you stare at his mouth, the way it shapes the groaned curses and then tilts upward in a smug grin when he presses a thumb to your clit, and you let out a low moan.

Under your impatient fingers, his pants are soon loose and down his hips and you slide yourself over him, coating him and teasing you both until you’re a fevered mess, kisses sloppy and biting, the head of him pressing into you.

It’s a slow, perfect torture. His focus is on your expression and the sounds you’re making. But then it goes from careful to starving the second he’s all the way inside you. His grip on you is bruising, the sharp, rhythmic gasps he makes making you feel out of control.

He stares down between your bodies, slowing to watch, moving to touch you, his thumb stroking.

“That’s it gorgeous,” he murmurs. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You want to hold back, make it last forever, but it’s too good. The pleasure hits you in a wave, his name falling from your parted lips and your body clenching around him until he captures your mouth and finishes with a lewd groan, slowing and holding you against his chest.

Your face falls to his sweaty neck and your fingers curl around his open shirt. After catching your breath, he gently brings your face to his, pressing his lips softly to the corner of your mouth and then running the pad of his thumb across your lower lip.

He lifts you off him, reaching for the tissues on the side table and helping you clean up. His actions are careful and gentle and once you’re settled he takes the blanket off the couch and drapes it over you before he wraps you in his arms and lays down.

You tuck yourself closer and kiss his neck.

“Javi?” you whisper.

“Yeah sunshine.”

“Will you stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, kissing your cheek.

His lips tease along your jaw and you shift to give him better access, feeling his cock stir against your stomach. When his mouth reaches your ear he tugs on the soft flesh, running a hand along the curve of your spine to pull you closer and whisper, “I didn’t even get to use my tongue on you. I hate not knowing how you taste.”

Your little gasp makes him smile and his kisses continue.

“But lucky for me,” he murmurs with a brush of his lips, “we have all night.”

[siilent-wanderer]

Stuck With Yu

Summary: When unexpected circumstances bring Jimin and Y/N closer, tensions melt into understanding, and buried feelings begin to surface.

Genre: fluff, minor tension (for the plot)

Word Count: 1.3k words

Yu Jimin (Karina) x aespa 5th member! reader

A/N: happy new year and happy minjeong day! this is just a little foundation story set years before Between Us, Unspoken

Jimin and Minjeong had been an inseparable duo since their trainee days, a pair that the rest of the aespa members joked might as well be telepathic. But then Y/N entered the picture.  

Y/N was the last member added to the aespa lineup just a few months before their debut. She worked harder than anyone, determined to prove she belonged. Y/N was talented and quick to adapt, but it wasn’t lost on Jimin how effortlessly she seemed to charm everyone around her — especially Minjeong. Y/N and Minjeong’s shared love for witty banter and late-night snacks quickly bonded them, leaving the leader to watch from the sidelines, a sour feeling bubbling up in her chest she couldn’t quite name.

At first, Jimin told herself she was just protective of Minjeong. They’d been through everything together, and now this newcomer was taking up all of her attention. It wasn’t Y/N’s fault, but Jimin couldn’t help but notice how Minjeong seemed to gravitate toward her during practices. Jimin tried to brush it off. Maybe Minjeong was just being friendly; Y/N was a new SM trainee after all. But small things started to bother her.  

During one practice, Jimin was standing by the mirrors, reviewing the choreography when she overheard Minjeong and Y/N laughing by the water cooler.  

“You have to teach me that slang you were using earlier!” Minjeong said, leaning closer to Y/N.  

“You mean ‘no cap’? I thought you already knew it!” Y/N teased, nudging Minjeong playfully.  

Jimin tried not to look, but the scene played over and over in her mind as she practiced, her steps suddenly feeling heavier.  

That night, Jimin sat in the dorm living room with Aeri and Yizhuo, her mind still replaying the moment.  

“You’re being really weird lately, unnie,” Yizhuo said, squinting at Jimin. “What’s up with you?”  

“Nothing,” Jimin replied quickly, though the edge in her voice betrayed her.  

Aeri exchanged a glance with Yizhuo. “Does it have anything to do with Minjeong spending so much time with Y/N?”  

Jimin’s head shot up. “What? No!”  

But the smirks on her members’ faces told her they didn’t believe her.  

And the more Jimin tried to avoid thinking about Y/N, the more Y/N seemed to be everywhere.  

One evening, Jimin walked into the dorm living room to find Y/N sprawled out on the couch with Minjeong and Yizhuo, laughing over some reality show.  

“Yah, you’re literally crying,” Minjeong teased, handing her a tissue.  

“It’s so funny!” Y/N managed between giggles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.  

Jimin lingered in the doorway, watching Y/N. She had always thought Y/N was pretty, but there was something captivating about how natural and unguarded she was in moments like this.  

The realization made Jimin’s chest tighten, and she quickly retreated to her room, shutting the door behind her.  

It all came to a head one evening during practice. Jimin was struggling with a particularly difficult move while Y/N and Minjeong were huddled in a corner, going over their harmonies for a new song.  

“Let’s try that part again,” Minjeong said, leaning closer to Y/N. “I think you nailed it that time.”  

Jimin’s frustration boiled over. Dropping her hands to her hips, she snapped, “If you two are done whispering, can we focus on practice?”  

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to her. Y/N looked startled, and Minjeong frowned.  

After practice ended, Jimin grabbed her water bottle and stormed out of the studio, her emotions a tangled mess.  

The next morning, Minjeong cornered Jimin in the kitchen.  

“Unnie, what’s going on?” The younger asked, her voice soft but firm.  

Jimin shook her head, focusing on making her coffee. “Nothing’s going on.”  

Minjeong crossed her arms. “You’re obviously upset about something, and it’s affecting Y/N too. It’s been a year since she joined us, unnie, and she thinks you still don’t like her.”  

Jimin froze, guilt washing over her. “That’s not true.”  

“Then maybe you two should spend some time together and clear the air,” Minjeong suggested. “I set up a bonding day for the three of us tomorrow. It’ll be fun!”

Jimin arrived at the amusement park, only to receive a text from Minjeong at the last minute:  

“Sorry, unnie! Something came up, but you and Y/N should still go. Have fun!”  

“And don’t think about asking the others. Aeri unnie’s parents are in Korea and Ning has a schedule 😊”

The leader groaned, stuffing her phone into her pocket. She spotted Y/N by the entrance, looking hesitant.  

“Hi unnie,” Y/N said, giving Jimin a small wave.  

Jimin sighed. “Minjeong bailed.”  

“Yeah, I got the text too,” Y/N replied. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, unnie.”  

Jimin hesitated. She could just leave, but something in Y/N’s tentative expression stopped her.  

‘It’s been a year since she joined us, unnie, and she thinks you still don’t like her.’

“Let’s just go,” Jimin said finally.  

The first hour was awkward. Y/N tried making conversation, but Jimin’s replies were short and stilted.  

But as they moved through the park, something began to shift.

At the bumper cars, Y/N laughed so hard after accidentally slamming into Jimin’s car that the leader couldn’t help but crack a smile.

At the arcade, things started to really thaw.  

Y/N challenged Jimin to a shooting game, and to her surprise, Jimin was fiercely competitive.  

“I’m not losing to you,” The leader said, her lips twitching into a smile as she aimed.  

“Bold of you to assume you have a chance,” Y/N shot back, grinning.  

By the end of the game, they were both laughing, the tension between them finally easing.  

Over snacks, the leader found herself genuinely enjoying Y/N’s company. The younger was easy to talk to, her humor lightening Jimin’s mood.  

And by the time the sun began to set, Jimin had let her guard down completely.

As the day wound down, Y/N suggested they ride the Ferris wheel. Jimin hesitated — it felt too sentimental — but eventually agreed.

Halfway through, the wheel came to a halt, leaving them suspended at the top.  

“Seriously?” Jimin muttered, looking out at the city below.  

Y/N laughed nervously. “At least the view is nice.”  

They sat in silence for a moment before Jimin spoke. “I owe you an apology.”  

Y/N glanced at her. “For what?”  

“For... how I’ve treated you,” The leader admitted, her voice quiet. “I was jealous. Minjeong and I have always been close, and when you joined, it felt like I was losing her.”  

Y/N’s expression softened. “I never wanted to come between you two.”  

“I know,” Jimin said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But today made me realize it’s more than that. I think... I’ve been avoiding you because you make me feel things I wasn’t ready to admit.”  

The younger wasn’t sure if she heard her properly, “What was that, unnie?”

Jimin hesitated, her cheeks flushing. “Nothing. I’m just really glad you’re here,” she said softly, her gaze fixed on the skyline.

A small smile played on the younger girl’s lips. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

Jimin’s heart was pounding, but she still found the courage to say what she really meant. “No, I mean… I’m glad you’re here. With me.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, an exciting feeling creeping up her veins. Before she could respond, the sky lit up with fireworks, the bursts of color reflecting in their eyes.

“You know, unnie, you’re a lot softer than you let on,” Y/N smiles.

Jimin chuckled, her heart racing. “Don’t tell anyone.”  

Their gondola started moving again, but something had changed. The air between them felt lighter and brighter, filled with endless possibilities. For the first time, Jimin felt like she wasn’t falling behind — she was falling for someone, and Y/N was right there to catch her.  

A/N: ok def not the best work, but I’m such a sucker for amusement park dates. I still have ideas that come after this one (e.g., jealous jimin?) so someone pls tell me if that would be interesting

[veggiesxxx]

POV: You spend time with a guy "behind their back." (Part 2/4)

(reader is NOT cheating!!)

ft. Jealousy, fluff,

Sylus

Your phone buzzed, interrupting your conversation with your friend.

"And then, it started charging up it's attack-"

"Ugh, sorry. Somebody's spamming me." you mumbled, rolling your eyes, reaching to turn your phone over on the table, screen face down so you wouldn't have to look at the relentless messages.

"As I was saying-"

You tried to continue, only to hear your notifications blow up even faster, the buzzing incessant. You were convinced that if you didn't reply, your phone would combust in the middle of the café.

"Sorry. I've got to check this," you sighed, picking up your phone, lazily going to see who was the contact spamming you relentlessly.

"Sweetie who is that." "Is he bothering you?" "sweetie?" "Are you hurt? is he threatening you." "Y/N." "If u dont reply im coming over" "Why did you turn ur phone around." "Kitten who is he?"

Scrolling through the barrage of texts, your brows furrowed, immediately becoming suspicious. Sylus? How did...

You looked up, gazing intently at any pipes on the ceiling or dark corners a certain mechanical spy could be hiding. Knowing Sylus, and what to look for, it made finding the problematic Mephisto a lot easier. Your frown deepened, as the bird noticed you glaring at it. As if sensing your glare, the robot flapped its wings, cawing loudly. A customer walked into the café at that moment, and the bird cawed a final time, making it's presence known, returning your glare before taking the chance to fly out the open door before the owner chased it out. Poor man who walked in had to duck the diving 'bird' as it soared into whatever shadows outside.

After witnessing that 'spectacle', you turned your attention back to the phone in your hands, immediately tapping your thumbs on the screen, sending a reply to the spammer.

"Sylus? Why are you suddenly spying on me- in Linkon??" "I saw Mephisto. How long have you been watching me?" "No! Don't come!! I'm fine!"

You started to panic, heart sinking, frantically texting back so Sylus didn't appear and do something drastic-

"It's a bit too late for that, kitten. look up."

'What-?" You didn't get to snap out of the baffled daze before you felt a hand on your shoulder, and a rather threatening, unmistakable presence towering over you. You froze up, embarrassed that he was having this fit in front of your friend.

You glanced up at the Onychinus's big boss, your gaze following his— which was locked dangerously onto the man sitting opposite you.

"Sweetie, let's go." He snapped his eyes back onto you, his voice laced with not-so-subtle possessiveness and suppressed irritation, not leaving much room for argument. Sylus was obviously in one of his 'fits'.

Sighing, you shook your head in exasperation, getting up. You quickly apologised to your friend, shooting him a "sorry about him" glance. Sylus didn't wait for your pleasantries to be exchanged. In his eyes, getting you away from the other man was something to be done immediately.

Once outside the café, pulled by the hand, you confronted Sylus for his abrupt interruption of your peaceful lunch. "Seriously? You couldn't have waited for my answer? I replied in less than 5 minutes..."

"You turned the phone over." He asserted, like it was some important evidence. He crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow, not a hint of any teasing smirk on his face. This was serious, you noted mentally. In your head, it wasn't a big deal– he'd seen you flip the phone over multiple times when notifications became too annoying– but if he actually felt that this situation was significant...

"I did. Still, you know it's nothing- I do it all the time."

"Not to me. You always answer."

That.. was true. You never did ignore his messages.

"But you turned me away. For him." He continued, and you could swear you've never seen him so serious. Never.. not since your first meeting. "I thought something happened. Mephisto doesn't record audio." his voice was low, however, it couldn't hide the trace of vulnerability. Like he was trying to pretend he was this concerned because he thought you were unsafe with an unarmed man, rather than just afraid of losing you.

"Nothing happened, I'm fine, Sylus." you murmured, putting your hand over his, uncrossing his arms for him. You gently squeezed his hand, not really wanting to let him off the hook yet. "He's my friend. Just a friend,"

"Friend or not. He can't have what's mine.'

Your cheeks flushed, not expecting him to express or even acknowledge his own feelings so openly. You didn't look up at him, and he was glad for that- so he could hide his red ears.

"Overprotective, much?"

His solemn eyes raised, missing their usual glimmer of mirth, meeting yours, tilting his head, and a piece of his hair bobbed against his forehead.

“Call it what you want, sweetie. I'll always be here to watch over you.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile. As infuriating as Sylus could be, his unwavering devotion had a way of making you feel safe—even when he went overboard.

“Fine, fine,” you gave in with a sigh. “But next time, just call me instead of sending your creepy bird, or yourself.”

Sylus’ smirk came back faintly, more like a relieved smile. “No promises.”

"I'm proud of you, though, kitten. You spotted Mephisto faster than I thought you would. How'd you learn that?"

"Yeah.. because all pipes have glowing red eyes.." you said, sarcasm slipping out.

"...Wait. Did you say next time?" His gaze grew more intense, eyeing you down.

"No next time. I'll snap his neck." He hissed, gripping your hand tighter in his.

"You keep those sharp eyes on me, sweetie. Where they belong."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧༶

Hope you enjoyed!! Pls leave a note if u liked yay

Next :

╰┈➤ Zayne/Xavier (Part 3/4) [coming soon]

Previously :

╰┈➤ Rafayel (Part 1/4)

A/N: I don't know if this is too long lmao

Tags: @cordidy @liz9898

[buck-star]

I met them, and now I’m their princess

You met them, and now you’re more than just their good friend. You’re their princess, the bikers princess.

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader x Biker!Steve Rogers

Wordcount: 1.631 Words

Warnings/Tags: tiny bit of angst, fluff, love confession, more fluff

Authors Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR! Hope you all had a nice start into the year and have a lot of happiness and whatever you wish this year! So here’s a little “Drabble” with our beloved Super soldiers for the start of the year. Divider made by me.

It’s a collaboration with @mercurial-chuckles. We thought it could be a cute idea to have a similar title and use the same prompt to start in the new year. Her work: I met them, and now I’m their queen.

Events: Stucky community prompt-list [Confession before the new year starts to get it off their chest], Marvel OC Hub [SB6010 | Row Three-One | Do you trust me? | @marvel-oc-hub], Stucky Bingo [N5 | Friends to lovers | @stuckybingo]

Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist

You're sitting on the sill of your window in your small apartment. Your eyes are searching the sky for the fireworks that light up the dark night. They follow every little sparkle until they disappear in the night sky, each one following a soft sigh that escapes your lips.

Your eyes are filled with longing — a longing for warmth and the love you feel whenever you're around two people. Two bikers to be exact. Unfortunately, those two people are happy with one another, while you're just their good friend.

If someone watches those big, muscular bikers looking at one another with that sweet, soft expression, affection written all over their face, they wouldn't believe those two are real. They look like the perfect gay couple out of a romance, maybe even the perfect movie.

You didn't mind any of it at all. They are sweet with you, friendly and polite like the perfect gentlemen. But at some point — where the sweetness warmed your heart more than it should, and their smile caused butterflies to go wild in your stomach — you feel slowly but deeply for these two bikers.

While others would admire them for their muscles, their perfect figure, or them just being bikers, for you, it's the soft smile that mostly matches the one they share with one another. Their ocean-blue eyes, which have that adorable sparkle in them when they are happy or excited — especially when they look at you. It's the way the sound of their rough, low voices sounds like honey when they talk to you and the softness and tenderness they always have around you. There is never a hint of fear or embarrassment, no matter what they do; as long as it's the three of you, there is only happiness and laughter being shared.

They even invited you to celebrate New Year’s Eve with them. While your heart was racing and you smiled brighter than ever, you told them you would be busy, trying to find an — any — excuse to not celebrate with them. As much as your heart was screaming at you to say yes, to spend the night with your favorite bikers, you just couldn't. Your mind told you not to, to not bother them while they share that evening with one another; you didn't want to disturb their special moment, and so you prefer when they have New Year's Eve just for themselves — that's at least what you try to tell yourself.

A sudden, loud noise makes you flinch, and your eyes focus on what's happening on the street outside your apartment. You blink. Once. Twice. Only when the two familiar bikes and the broad men on them are still there do you believe that this isn't a dream or any kind of hallucination. They are really there; Bucky and Steve are standing in front of your apartment, talking about something you don't understand while they park their bikes.

Bucky’s the first who takes off his helmet, shaking his head and causing his long, brown hair to fly in the cold wind of the night before they settle down perfectly. He’s always doing it, knowing how much you love when he does that, just as much as you love to run your fingers through his thick hair; it always makes your heart flutter.

Except you and Steve, there's no one who's allowed to touch Bucky's hair. He loves it too much and doesn't like it being a mess, but if you or Steve touch it, he doesn't care how he looks after. He would even laugh with his hair standing in all directions and him only looking hilarious; he would love that if it makes you happy.

Steve laughs softly, his blue eyes brighter when he watches his boyfriend and his little hair show. The blond-haired man runs his fingers through his short hair when he places his helmet on the bike and says something to Bucky once again. He then makes his way to your door; your eyes widen while you notice Steve walking in your direction and Bucky opening the bag he placed next to his bike on the ground.

You watch the scene through your window for a moment. Your eyes moving from Bucky to Steve and back to the brown-haired man. Before you see what Bucky pulls out of his bag, it knocks loudly at your door. You know it’s Steve, but you're too curious to see what Bucky has in his bag, so you remain where you are.

“I know you're there, princess,” Steve says, knocking once again. You huff softly but get up to open the door for Steve. The blond-haired man leans against the wall, a smirk plastered over his face, and he holds his hand out for you. “There you are. May we get your attention for a few minutes, princess? Trust me, you will love it.”

You nod, slightly confused about whatever they have planned. You thought they would celebrate it at their house together or maybe at the bar where they have their biker club meetings often. But it looks like they decided to celebrate in front of your apartment.

So you take your jacket from beside you and slide easily into your shoes before you take Steve's calloused hand. His soft smile is still on his face the whole time while his eyes roam over your body. “Thought you were busy. Busy watching the fireworks all alone from the window of your apartment?”

You blush softly, nodding your head. Bucky's low chuckle gets your attention when Steve nods toward him. It's like they had a bet on what you're planning to do when you said you would be busy. They know you too well, reading you like a book and knowing your overthinking well enough to know that you haven't planned anything but just didn't want to annoy them — which you never could.

Steve leads you further outside, stopping a few feet away from Bucky, who places some boxes on the ground, and you notice that those are fireworks. Bucky takes a few steps toward you, a wide grin on his face as he leans down to press his soft lips against your forehead. You immediately feel tingles in your stomach, and a shaky breath escapes your lips. Bucky chuckles low in his throat, almost purring when he notices it.

“Doll, I know— we know you said no to the invite, and you told us you're busy. But we—” Bucky says, interrupting himself for a moment. He looks at Steve, whose big hands are on your waist, pulling you tightly against his firm chest. Steve's strong arms wrap tightly around your waist. He lowers his head, his nose nudging against your neck. “We know you don't have plans, but… so we accept that you said no to the invite, but—”

“We couldn't start the new year knowing you would sit at home, all alone, longing for something you don't dare to ask for. And… we can’t start the new year without you around us, in our arms, princess,” Steve says, and your eyes widen slightly. Do they know? Did they find out about your feelings for them?

“We know about the feelings, babydoll. We know, and we... we waited for the perfect opportunity,” Bucky confesses. The confusion visible on your face. It feels like he can read your mind, but he can't, can he? Bucky walks back to the little boxes on the ground while Steve pulls you backwards. His lips trailing down your neck, he smirks against your skin when he notices the goosebumps he's causing.

After a moment, where Steve's closeness makes your heart race and your mind spin, you notice Bucky walking closer to the two of you again. He stays next to you, taking your smaller hand in his calloused one while he leans himself against Steve. The blond-haired lets one hand go and sneaks it around Bucky's waist, pulling him closer against the two of you. You're all looking at the sky, waiting for the fireworks to light up the dark night.

“We wanted to wait for this moment. Just before the fireworks will light up the night. We wanted to wait to make it special because you're the most precious and special thing to us. And we love you, princess,” Steve says, just when the fireworks start, your mouth drops open. Not just because of the amazing colors of the fireworks but also because of Steve's words.

“We are longing for you just like you do for us. We love you, not just like a friend. If you want, we would love to be with you. You, Stevie, and me,” Bucky mumbles and kisses your cheek softly. It's so familiar to you that you feel his soft lips against your skin, but it still makes you shiver slightly. You nod, a soft whimper escaping your lips when his lips keep lingering against your cheek and you can feel them turning upwards into that cute smile of his. You mumble a soft yes, agreeing to their idea to be their princess, to them being your bikers.

More fireworks light up the sky when you nod your head. Steve's strong arms pull you and Bucky tighter against him, and you can feel the warmth radiating off of them. Your eyes widen when you notice that there are hearts in different colors visible in the sky. They made personal fireworks just for that moment — they wanted it to be perfect, and they managed to make it perfect. Not just because of the fireworks but because you’re so close and being held so lovely by the two men you love more than anything. That was what you were looking for, the love you found in your favorite two bikers.

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[rafesangelita]

hey angel! i saw that you’re writing for all the obx boys now which makes me so happy you have no idea.

i would like to please request a pope and bambi scenario similar to the scene in s4 where him and cleo almost get caught by heyward but in this particular situation, heyward does indeed catch pope and bambi!reader…..

🧁

warnings: fluff, unprotected sex, soft sex (?), pope and bambi talking away per usual, getting caught, pope panics and pushes bambi, awkward tension, the infamous walk of shame

“fuck, baby, i need you to be a little more quieter..” pope was about to cover your mouth before he opted for kissing you instead, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. “i promise, i’m trying! ‘just missed you.” this was the first time you had seen your boyfriend since he got in trouble and was forced to stay home because of his ankle monitor, two weeks being the most amount of time you two had ever spent away from each other. you couldn’t wait another day without being in contact, so you snuck in through his side of the stairs, both of you wasting no time in getting each other’s clothes off.

“i missed you, too.” a particular stroke of his hips made both of you moan, his fingers tracing shapes into the soft flesh of your hips. “have you read any new books?” you smiled at him, a small laugh leaving your lips. leave it to you and pope to talk about books while he’s balls deep inside of you. “mhm, yes, just a couple—” pope groaned when you clenched around him, not trusting himself to be any less quieter than you. “yeah? shit, which ones?” he buried his face in the curve of your neck, leaving kisses there while your thighs tightened around his waist. “well..” your eyes fluttered shut, “some romance titles, of course..”

pope listened to you explain the plot of one of your books before both of you froze at the sound of heavy footsteps trudging up the stairs. “pope? you awake in there, son?” you gasped when he pulled out abruptly, scrambling to get the panties you currently had hanging off of your ankle pulled back up around your hips. “put your leg in!” he whispered, your eyes wide as you quickly got up, attempting to pull your baby tee over your head. just as he managed to pull your underwears back up, and your shirt was low enough to cover your bare chest, heyward spoke again.

“i’m coming in.”

panicking, pope shoved you towards his closet, completely forgetting the door was closed before you crashed into it with a yelp. with your vision still being obstructed with your god awful shirt, you fell to the floor just as heyward walked in. “what the hell?— woah!” he backed out of the room faster than he came in, “y/n, is that you?” you finally got your head through the top, your cheeks blazing hot with embarrassment. “..yes, sir.” pope was already rushing to help you up, repeating a ‘sorry, sorry, sorry,’ as he got a pair of boxers on. “both of you better be decent before going downstairs.”

“i can’t believe you pushed me!” you said incredulously, searching every corner of pope’s room for your shorts. “i thought the door was open!” he apologized again, both of you making your way to the dinner table where both of pope’s parents sat waiting. they watched as you two walked over, a nervous smile gracing your lips before you tripped over your feet. you two were definitely in for a lecture now..