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truly-quirkless · 1 year ago
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TAG DUMP 2 - Inbox n' Dash
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rafecameronssl4t · 11 days ago
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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTYtnp5NE/
Could you make one based on this tiktok that came out on my fyp?? (i think the first clip is better) Rafe becomes super protective and always keeps her by his side because some guys want to interview her for their tiktok and stuff, knowing that she's attractive
Popular || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: yoo the hand placement is craaaazyyyyyyy #NEEDTHAT (I feel like this is so s1 Rafe coded 😆) here’s the tiktok btw
Warnings: Rafe being super touchy
Word count: 649
MASTERLIST
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The line stretched endlessly down the block, and Rafe’s patience was wearing thin. “Fuck, this line is taking forever,” he muttered, rolling his eyes and letting out an exasperated sigh. The arm he had slung casually around your shoulders tightened ever so slightly, drawing you closer as you chuckled softly.
Your fingers lightly traced his bicep, glancing down at your phone to check the time. Forty-five minutes. That’s how long you, Rafe, and Topper had been stuck in the queue for the club, surrounded by a crowd of impatient partygoers. “I gotta take a piss, you comin’?” Topper asked, slapping Rafe on the back.
“Yeah, give me a sec.” Rafe turned to you, leaning down to press a sloppy, possessive kiss to your lips. His warmth lingered as he pulled back, his voice low. “Be right back, babe.” You nodded, humming softly as he stepped away, already missing the weight of his arm around you. With nothing else to do, you leaned against the metal barrier, scrolling through TikTok to pass the time.
The occasional murmur of the crowd barely registered until a light tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your scrolling. “Excuse me, miss,” a guy said, and you turned to face him with a hint of confusion. He held a camera in his hand, another guy standing beside him. “Do you mind if we interview you for a minute? It’s for our YouTube channel.”
You raised an eyebrow. The accent wasn’t local, and you immediately knew they weren’t from Kildare—nobody around here would even think to call themselves a YouTuber. Still, curiosity got the better of you, and you offered a polite laugh. “Okay, sure.” You turned fully to face the camera, brushing your hair over your shoulder.
“What’s something you wouldn’t want your future husband to know about you?” the guy asked with a grin, holding the mic out toward you. You let out a soft giggle, contemplating your answer as a familiar figure caught your eye in your peripheral vision. Rafe and Topper were making their way back, and their expressions were far from amused.
By the time you opened your mouth to respond, Rafe was already at your side. A firm hand landed on your bare shoulder, the weight grounding you. Rafe’s presence was imposing, his tall frame towering over the YouTuber and his friend. Topper flanked the other side, his arms crossed as he sized up the duo.
“Absolutely nothing,” you finally said with a playful smirk, clicking your tongue. “Because I’m perfect, beautiful, and amazing.” You winked at the camera, your confident tone masking the tension simmering in the air. “Yo, what the fuck’s goin’ on here?” Rafe’s voice was low, his tone sharp as he furrowed his brows.
His hand slid from your shoulder, resting possessively on your right boob, his fingers lightly squeezing as if to stake his claim. “She’s just getting interviewed,” the guy stammered, his chuckle nervous as his gaze darted between Rafe and Topper. “I’m a YouTuber.” “A YouTuber? In Kildare?” Topper scoffed, shaking his head with a mocking laugh. “That’s rich.”
Rafe’s hand didn’t budge, instead, he gave it another squeeze and you reached up instinctively, resting your hand over his in an attempt to ease the tension. The YouTuber tried to continue, his voice faltering under the weight of the stares. “Yeah, nothing crazy, man—”
“Nah, I think we’re done here,” Rafe cut him off, his smile sharp and anything but friendly. He shot a glance at the camera, his jaw tight, before gripping your hand and pulling you firmly away. You couldn’t help but glance back, catching the shaken expressions of the YouTuber and his friend as Topper trailed behind.
When you finally looked up at Rafe, his gaze was hard, but there was an unmistakable flicker of pride in his eyes. You knew better than to say anything, though; this was Rafe’s way of making it clear you were his.
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bettysupremacy · 1 year ago
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hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭
I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(
you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!
thank uu
i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!
There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.
Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.
“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.
His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.
“Sirius.”
He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”
“M’hungry.”
“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.
“So hungry.”
He sighs, unsure of what to do.
“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.
He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.
“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.
He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?
“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”
“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.
The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.
You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”
It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.
“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”
“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.
You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.
“You new around here?”
An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”
He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”
“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”
“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.
“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”
“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“
“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”
“No,” the man scoffs.
“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”
He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”
“Well, conversations over now.”
“She can make her own decisions.”
“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.
“She was asking for it.”
Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.
James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.
Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.
“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”
You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”
He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”
“It’s okay, I’m okay.”
“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.
He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.
“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”
He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.
“You do.” James feeds Sirius.
“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”
“You look good.”
“Oh, now you tell me.”
You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.
“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.
“That was stupid.”
“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago
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Wicked Games 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
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Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Steve Rogers
Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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Your phone wakes you. The room tilts as you open your eyes. A dull hammering thrums in your temples. The morning light makes your brain rough as sand paper. 
Dregs of vodka stick to your dry tongue. The hangover weighs you down like an anchor. Just the thought of moving hurts. 
You reach blindly for your jittering phone. Bubbly music tinkles from the speaker. Shit. It's Barrett. What did he forget this time? 
You answer and put your clammy palm to your forehead. You squint at the ceiling then your eyes slowly round. Where the fuck are you?  
"Hey, babe. You at Wendy's?" Your husband asks. 
You gulp and peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth. This isn't Wendy's house. 
"Yep," you croak. Your eyes ping side to side. 
"Look, I'm sorry about last night. Things got heated and I know I was an ass--" 
You cough as you sit up in the strange bed. "Yeah, you were." 
"So why don't you come home and we can talk it out." 
You peer around the room and your lips curve in a frown. Where the hell would you go besides home your loyal best friend's? You scratch you scalp and turn your legs over the edge of the bed, "let me get myself together." 
"Babe. Please. I'm sorry." 
"When I get home." You hang up.  
It was a hell of fight. The minute he started yelling, you bailed. He knows better. You're not doing a ten hour day and coming home his nagging. So you left out your coffee mug. Big deal. You didn't say anything about the garbage bag he left out to be torn apart by raccoons. 
Whatever. Fighting over dishes. Not of it matters right now. 
Your clothes are on the floor. Someone's floor. Who it is is far from the point. You stand and stagger. You catch yourself on the nightstand. Your hand moves instinctively between your legs. 
You're naked and tender. Did you have sex? 
Think! You ran out with your purse. You went to Wendy's. She was up for a night out. A night to forget and body did you. First drink, second, third, then it gets blurry.  
Fuck! You didn't. You wouldn't. You're pissed at your husband but you wouldn't cheat on him. You're not that type of person. Right? 
You don't have time for that. You have to get out of here.  
You dress as you search the room. It's tidy. Half the bed is mad and the other half messed from your drunken slumber. 
You shake out your hands trying to shoo away the flurry of guilt and denial. Just get out. You'll think better with some coffee in your system.  
You push down the door handle slowly. You listen to the silence of the hall. You tiptoe out warily, checking left and right as you advance. It's a nice place. A condo. Much nicer than your cramped one bedroom. 
Not important! 
You come out into the spacious front room. It's as empry as the rest of the place. The kitchen too. The bathroom. No one. 
Your purse is by the door. Your shoes too. You grab both and let yourself out. You'd rather not face your mistake. 
No, you didn't do anything. You wouldn't. 
You hurry down the hallway to the elevators. You don't look back, just keep going. You don't think, just go. 
It isn't until you're outside the familiar cafe marquee that your let your mind settle. You enter and join the queue. Your order a black coffee and drink it at a stool by the window.  
You lean your elbows on the high table that stands inside the pane. You take a slow, savouring swig of coffee and let it trickle down your throat. You shield your face from the New York morning and put your hands over your ears. 
You can't remember anything but Wendy. Your anger had you ordering round after round, trying to drown out the bile. The thought makes your stomach lurch and you gulp thickly. 
You shake your head and groan. Your phone chirps. It's probably Barrett. Several messages from him and missed calls. All through the night. It's bad enough you betrayed him, you had him up worrying. 
No, you didn't! 
It can't have happened if you don't remember it. A generous stranger took you home so you didn't wake up on the curb. That's it. 
That's the story. Nothing happened. And you'll let Barret believe you were with Wendy. It won't make a difference. 
Your mind is set. Nothing happened. 
Nothing. Happened. 
Because you don't remember. Because you were too drunk to do that. Because you're married and it can't happen. 
You're going to finish your coffee and go home. Everything will be just like it was before... after you tell Barrett where to put that coffee mug if it's such a big deal. 
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catiuskaa · 1 year ago
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reggaeton & champagne.
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PAIRING! lee minho x reader x bang chan
SUMMARY: you knew better than to go down to the club alone. and that guy should’ve known better than to mess with minho and chan’s property.
REQUESTED! by my pookie @sharonxdevi who requested this here! and it’s such a good idea, tysm for trusting me with it<3
CW: the boys may come off as a little possesive, there’s a touchy douche in the club, mentions of alcohol, it ain’t spicy but surely it’s nsfw.
WC: 2.3k
A/N: so i’ve never even thought of writing poly!skz relationships until now, but i think it came out nicely! (and if you kinda recognize the title— i just spend an unhealthy amount of time watching skz edits on instagram lololol)
[🔹☆💠☆🔹]
The sign of the club glowed with bluish neon lights at the entrance. There was also a man, notebook in hand, receiving IDs prior to welcoming the long queue of people. Although it was not the most expensive nightclub in the city, you could see the difference between it and the rest of the clubs in town, in the sense that the establishment was very tidy and clean, with security personnel scattered around the corners, watching that everything was going out smoothly.
It was unusual for you to want to go out clubbing, but considering the boys’ schedule, any chance to make plans together was welcomed with open arms.
Especially by Minho and Chan, who would never force you to go out, but their lingering stares and their arms that would sneakily clung to your waist or your shoulders —and in some cases, to lovingly slap your ass or thighs—, were meant as a way of encouragement when you dressed up and went for it.
And a way to say that, as always, you looked fine as hell.
You had chosen a short silver-coloured dress that reached your mid-thighs, accompanied by a pair of matching mesh thigh-highs with cute little clips that allowed them to stay in place, only because you knew how to entertain your public, and loved every single second their eyes stayed glued to you as you danced your heart out.
The music pounded against the walls and reverberated through the floor, but not as much as how the booze traveled through your veins, only giddy enough to celebrate how well their last tour had gone, and merely to have some well-deserved fun.
Minho’s hands grasped you by your waist, pulling you off Chan’s arms and smirking as he pushed your back flush against his body.
One of his hands remained in place, but the other one moved slowly, tempting fingers heading down to your thighs, as if walking, the motion almost ticklish. You could feel his cat-like grin from behind you as you looked at Chan, who wasn’t mad at all, rather cheekily enjoying the other man’s antics as you kept dancing against him, following the rhythm of the music.
Chris got closer to the both of you, taking your arms and settling them on his shoulders as he approached even further, now the two gentlemen dressed in fine clothes towering over you.
“Our princess is feeling good today, huh?” His hand cradled your face, holding your chin in a tender grasp, unlike Minho, who started to play with one of the clips on your high mesh stockings.
You were about to say something, but Minho tugged at one of the straps and chuckled next to your ear, slapping it back. Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, feeling the blush rising to your cheeks, the light foundation you had applied not being able to cover it.
Chris snickered, and Minho lightly bit the shell of your ear, and they both laughed as you squirmed in between their arms.
“Ok, ok—!” You giggled, out of breath due to the tickling and else. You didn’t want to leave just yet, but didn’t want to stop teasing your boys either.
Tugging on Chan’s collar, you propelled him forward, his hands ending on Minho’s shoulders by reflex. You moved your body in between both of them, swaying your hips, playing with Chris’ hair as you turned your head to face the man behind you, and chuckled, biting his lip.
They both felt a rush of blood heading to their face—and downwards—, but you stopped Chan for pushing you against Minho even more, one of your soft hands nonchalantly moving from the back of his neck to his chest, cheekily stroking his toned upper body.
“I think we can use some more drinks, gentlemen.” Your tone was filled with an enticing mockery only powered by their presence, and you licked your lips, feeling Minho’s slender fingers playing with the rim of your dress, tapping your thigh gently.
“I think we should head to the VIP lounge.” He grunted against your ear, his breath tickling your there, but the gentle yet lust-filled kisses he left right below started driving you a bit crazy. “Whaddya think, Chan?” Minho smirked, swiftly lifting his head from your neck to stare at the older man.
With all the mix of bright coloured lights, you could notice slightly how Chris’ eyes grew darker. Almost so dark that they could fuck you themselves, and you squeezed your thighs at the thought.
“I think our little brat needs to learn that teasing won’t get her anywhere, hyung.” Minho’s slender fingers playfully traced mindless shapes on your thigh.
The older man swallowed hard, his breath deepening.
“Guess you’re on thin ice, princess.” He leaned in, and pecked Minho’s lips from above your shoulder. He then turned slightly, and spoke in your ear. “You have ten minutes to go get those drinks. Go up the VIP platform right after, like the good girl you are, mmh?”
His hum almost echoed through your body, falling into an endless pit of arousal that those two gorgeous men had created, now able to make you feel hot and bothered in just a cheeky wink or a deep look.
Making you oh so weak for them. Only them.
“Heard that, kitten?” Minho smirked, lovingly kissing your cheek, as close as he could to the corner of your lips. “Ten minutes. Tick-tock.”
You tried heading towards the bar without your knees giving out as they both moved away, and instantly missed their warmth and strong hold on your body. But before you could even try, Chris tsked, pulling you back to him and almost fiercely planting a deep kiss that lit fire on your body, and almost made you whine when he pulled away, biting your lip.
“Fuck.” He gasped, feeling breathless. “Make that five minutes for daddy, yeah?”
And with a tap on your hips and a teasing wink, he left, following where Minho had gone.
You were unable to wipe the giddy smile off your face, feeling your cheeks get hot, and you patted them, hoping that your slightly cooler hands would do something to low it down.
Shaking your head lightly, you waved at the bartender, a tall, blond and handsome young man, and he gave you a kind smile. You sat on the stool closest, and he approached you, leaning on the counter.
“Nice seeing you here for a change.” He said with a snicker.
“Wish I could say the same, Hyunjin.” You wiggled your eyebrows almost dramatically, making him laugh.
“Your three usuals, beautiful?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. “Comin’ right up.”
You watched as he gracefully started to show off his abilities, passing drinks and metal cups and bottles in flashes and zooms, controlling every move so swiftly.
But then, you felt a hand on your waist.
“Sorry, scooching up real quick…” said a low voice from behind you.
His hands brushed your back, making you shiver. But it was a bad shiver. One that swiped away the giddiness your boys had left, but not as quickly as your smile took off.
The bold man dizzily sat on a stool that could’ve easily been a foot or two away, and your body relaxed easily at the new-formed distance.
You stared at him in a mix of slight disgust and raw astonishment. Used to your boys and the rest of the group, or people like Hyunjin, one could easily forget that people weren’t always respectful, nice and kind.
He noticed your blank stare, and misinterpreted it as interest. With a wide smile, he bent down, grabbing one of the legs of the stool you were sitting on, and smoothly moved it closer to his.
Another shiver ran through your back, goosebumps showing on your skin.
He smiled, and you held back a frown.
“Besides looking that sexy, what else do you do for a living?”
yikes.
That line didn’t only give you the ick, but you also noticed Hyunjin physically flinched, which made you snort, quickly covering your mouth.
The man was so drunk. You could smell it on his breath, and the guy looked rather pathetic. You didn’t feel too sorry for him, but wanted him as far as possible, and you moved to the edge of your stool.
The man looked proud of your giggles, but grew restless when you didn’t reply, so he took a sip from the glass of whiskey in front of him, kind of as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.
You sat up straight, glaring at Hyunjin so he’d call security if things turned complicated, and he winked at you as a form of reassurance.
“Do you, eh, come here often?” He blurbed out.
You looked at your hands, staring at your nails, and waited for a second before giving him a side-eye from above your shoulder, slender eyes looking uninterested.
Quickly going back to your nails, you shrugged. “Enough to know that you don’t.” You brushed off coldly.
If you did, you’d know that I’m happily taken.
He stammered, his breath hitched, and you could almost feel him start getting even more nervous, as well as slightly angry.
“Huh? Why’s that?” He scoffed, eyebrows raised at you, who again, didn’t bother to look at him, a bit wary of his moody attitude.
Hyunjin smiled at you, coldly glaring at the clueless man next to you as he swiftly left the three drinks in place, pressing the red button underneath the counter to call for help.
The man smirked, going back to a confidence you didn’t want to know where he had gotten.
Placing his arm sneakily on your waist.
Huh?
“All those for you?”
Before you could react and slap him for his unrequested bold actions, you heard a grunt behind you.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
At that moment, Chan wasn’t so sure if he was the pacific one in your relationship.
He trusted you and your ability to set your own boundaries, by any means necessary, even if it meant slapping someone across the face.
And he knew them by heart. He had watched how you grimaced, trying to take this drunkard’s hands away from you.
So he helped you by slapping them off your body.
As ‘gently’ as he could.
“Move aside.” He said in a low growl, failing to relax until you moved your hand and took his, squeezing it as a way of thanking him.
Instead of getting the hint, the man frowned.
“Hey, if you can’t tell, I was trying to—”
Minho scoffed, appearing behind the man.
“Keep babbling around our girl and I’ll give you a story to tell.” He said in a dark, low tone of voice, eyes and tongue so sharp that they could almost pierce right through the man. “Now shoo.”
Security came by a minute after and apologized for not taking care of him before, then fined him, following the nightclub’s rules and finally kicked the man out.
One of the security guys approached the three of you, and bowed swiftly, apologizing.
“I’m really sorry. This guy has already annoyed some other customers before. I’ll speak to the owner of the place and see if there is something we can do regarding his situation. As for you, miss…” He gave you his card, and you smiled at him, bowing your head gently.
“My name is Seo Changbin. If you ever need anything…” he sighed, a hand to his nape, the buff man slightly flustered. “Don’t hesitate to call me. I can’t think of another way to compensate you…”
Chan smiled, and shook hands with the security guard.
“No need to worry, mate. It’s fine now.” He stated calmly, his other hand still engulfing yours.
Minho bowed at him, his arm around your waist, as if trying to erase any marks or traces of the drunkard’s touch.
“Home, love?” He said in a gentle whisper, kissing your temple after you nodded. “S’okay.”
Minho opened the door to the car for you, and Chan’s hand never left your thigh the whole way back home.
As soon as you got back, you let out a tired sigh.
Chris hugged you from behind, and you melted under his touch. With a soft grin, Minho ushered Chan’s arms away from you, and swiftly took you in his arms.
“Sleepy?” The older one asked, but you shook your head. You didn’t want the night to end on this note. “Then I’ll go get something. You guys get going.” He smiled at you, eyes soft as he lovingly stroke your cheek, your face resting on Minho’s shoulder.
With a slight smirk, he patted Minho’s butt, and headed to his studio.
“Bang Chan!” He whisper-yelled, ears red, and you chuckled lowly.
“Cheeky little baby.” Minho cooed at you, heading to your shared room, and you giggled softly, hiding your head on the crook of his neck. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”
You moved your head from his neck and pecked his lips. Minho took you to bed, and tenderly took your heels off.
“Shower?” He asked softly, but you shook your head no, so he nodded, taking off your dress. With a cat-like grin, his fingers went back to your thighs.
“You have to wear these more often, you little tease.” He snickered, and you smiled, blushing softly. “You look so good in everything.” He said, stroking your cheek.
Chan quickly came back, fluffy blankets and laptop with him.
“Movie night!” He smiled, almost childishly, and both your and Minho’s heart tugged on your chests.
They took their fancy clothes off and put on sleeveless shirts and the matching pyjama pants you had gifted them for Christmas, who were at first meant as a joke, but remained being used just because how comfy they were.
There, snuggled between Chan and Minho, you smiled, taking both of their hands.
“I’m hungry.” You said, pouting unconciously.
“We can make popcorn if you want.” Christ suggested, pausing the movie.
You sat in your knees, looking at them with a smirk.
Minho smirked back, starting to guess where this was headed.
“What do you want to eat, kitten?”
You snickered.
“I want to have ramen.”
~kats, who hopes everyone understood that kdrama reference just now ;););););)
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fictoculus · 9 months ago
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Hiiiiii! Can i request some genshin guys reacting to reader refering to them as "my husband" they're not married yet/just dating? As for characters, I'd prefer Tighnari, Albedo, and Cyno (I definitely have a type lol) please 🙏
౨ৎ "my husband..."
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send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications
FEAT… alhaitham, tighnari, albedo
SYNOPSIS... calling your boyfriend your husband just to get a rise out of him (or you)
A/N... hey anon! thanks for the requesttt i love getting them literally puts a smile on my face ^^ so sorry for taking so long tho, nd also sorry for not writing anything for cyno i js had zero ideas for him, have alhaithtam instead!! anywayyy i was actually planning on writing something like this so great timing!!! hope you enjoyyy ♡
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✧ alhaitham.
it's been a long, tiring day, so you and alhaitham decide it's the perfect chance to unwind and finally visit the small café you often pass on your way home.
it's quaint but welcoming, with warm white fairy lights and oak wood accents to highlight the faded walls and exposed brick. however, due to it's size, there is quite a long queue. usually you'd be a little on edge, but with the quiet chatter and soft music, you're able to relax.
just as you begin to scan the menu, a quiet gasp causes you to jolt slightly as your boyfriend taps you on the shoulder.
"[name], i'm so sorry but i have to go back."
"is everything ok?"
"it seems i've forgotten something important. will you be alright by yourself?"
you reassure him with a nod, smiling up at him and urging him to go; the sooner he leaves, the sooner he'll be back.
"i'll be just fine, take your time, love"
"i won't be long"
he places a hurried kiss on your forehead and rushes back to the akademiya, breaking into a run as soon as he's out of your sight.
the queue edges closer and closer to the counter, and you start to give up your space for people behind you in the hopes that alhaitham will return, but eventually you're the only person left in the queue and have no choice but to place an order.
"good evening, um, could i please have..."
you carefully pick out a couple of baked goods you think your boyfriend would enjoy, and take your time selecting the right tea.
"ah, well... my husband has just gone to run an errand but i think he'd like... an oolong tea, please"
as if you somehow summoned him, alhaitham appears beside you with an arm wrapped around your waist.
"yes, that'd be just fine. thank you"
you can feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest against your shoulder, but you say nothing of it until you're sat down with your drinks and snacks.
"are you alright? i didn't mean to hurry you, 'haitham, i know you're tired"
the scholar, however, couldn't care less about having to rush, and completely dismisses your question.
"your husband, hm? i haven't heard that one before"
a sly smirk is plastered on his face, though you know he has no malicious intent, he simply enjoys teasing you, that's all.
"well- i didn't think you'd be back in time and i- it just-"
"don't worry about it, love, i'm only teasing."
he reaches across the table with a smile, holding your hand in his and rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.
"in fact, i quite like the idea of being your husband"
you're completely stumped. alhaitham? your husband?
yes, the two of you have been together for quite some time, but never in a million years did you think you deserved to marry him.
"y-you do?!"
"of course i do, love, don't you?"
"yes absolutely! i- it'd be a dream come true"
you blurt out, feeling a heat rushing to your cheeks as they glow a bright pink. usually, you'd be embarrassed, but in this moment, it doesn't matter. it feels as if time has come to a halt, and it's just you and him. alone. together.
at least now he knows you'll say yes...
✧ tighnari.
it's yours and tighnari's 1 year anniversary (hooray!), so of course, the two of you have gone out for a meal at a fancy restaurant, recommended to you by cyno surprisingly.
you absentmindedly read out the menu, whispering any dishes which intrigue you under your breath. it's one of the little habits you have that tighnari finds oh so charming, and he can't help but gaze at you lovingly as he completely disregards the menu and pins all his attention on you.
"are you ready to order?"
a stern voice snaps him back into reality as a waitress approaches the table, taking the pen out of her breast pocket and clicking it against her notepad.
you glance over to your boyfriend, and chuckle to yourself as he panics and skims over the menu hurriedly.
"my husband is having some trouble deciding, so i'll go first if that's alright"
you shoot your boyfriend an 'innocent' smile before placing your order.
"of course, and for you, sir?"
tighnari is completely out of it, your words echoing in his mind as he seems to just float away. "my husband", "my husband", "my husband". he sits there a flustered, blushing mess. how couldn't he be? the love of his life just called him their husband. if it weren't for the waitress stood before you, he'd be burying himself in your chest from the sheer embarrassment. not that he'd be ashamed to be your husband, he'll just never get used to that tugging feeling he gets in his chest when you tease him like this.
"sir? your order?"
"r-right, excuse me..."
you watch intently as he orders, stumbling over his words and fidgeting furiously with the loose fabric of his cape. how cute.
only when you've paid the bill and started heading home does he (nervously) confront you about your teasing, squeezing your hand tightly as he, once again, stumbles over his words.
"so... husband? is- is that something you really want or is it just some little scheme of yours beca-"
"i want nothing more, 'nari"
✧ albedo.
your boyfriend, albedo, is perched on a stool in front of you, painting fervently. painting what, you ask? why, you of course!
a feeling of pure euphoria washes over him every time his eyes outline your figure; you're beautiful. every curve, every dip, every mark, everything about you is a work of art in itself.
it feels like you've been sat there forever, holding your hand to your face and staring out the window, trying your best to be the perfect muse.
after hours of daydreaming, he finally calls you over.
"i'm finished, love. you did so well"
you walk over to him, back slightly sore, rolling your shoulders with a sigh. albedo's warm arm snakes around your waist and gently pulls you down onto his lap, bringing both hands to your shoulders to give you a well deserved massage.
"do you like it?"
he nods towards the canvas, now covered in the most wonderful shades of every colour you can imagine. the way he manipulated the light and shadows is commendable, and the fabric of your carefully styled outfit seems to flow around your body perfectly.
"do i like it?! archons... it's beautiful, 'bedo"
"you're beautiful, [name]"
it looks just like you, and now, finally, you get to see a glimpse of how albedo sees you.
"my husband is just so talented, what in teyvat am i going to do, hm?"
that was all it took for him to loose him composure, looking away from your gaze yet you kept your eyes locked on his. a pink tint dusts over his cheeks, and he seems to grow slightly distant as he processes it all; it's as if you can see the gears turning behind those pretty eyes of his.
"y-your husband?"
he stammers out, hands stilling to rest on your shoulders.
"mm, you don't like it?"
his eyes widen; of course he likes it. the idea of being your husband is something that gets him so giddy he can't sleep at night. just the thought of sliding a ring onto your fingers sends shivers down his spine, and he can feel himself burning up as he stutters:
"o-oh, no, no... i do, i just- i wasn't expecting it, that's all"
best believe he'll be attached to you for the rest of the day, leaning onto your back when you go to get a glass of water, and tugging on your arm as he leads you to bed.
"one day, [name]. one day i really will be your husband, if you'll let me..."
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thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you’d like me to write next!
TAGLIST…@maopll . @nyxmainex . @avensuersa . @moondrop-gummies apply here
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© FICTOCULUS 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own
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lecsainz · 2 years ago
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monegasque charm
pairings: arthur leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: arthur making stupid pick-up lines, jokes between the leclerc brothers.
authors note: i strongly believe that arthur should make this kind of joke with his girlfriend and the leclerc brothers teasing each other, omg i love this family!
word count: 1K
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Y/N and her friends had been looking forward to the Monaco Grand Prix for months. They had saved up their money, booked their tickets, and packed their bags with excitement and anticipation. But as they approached the circuit, their excitement turned to frustration as they found themselves stuck in a long queue of cars, barely moving at all.
"Can you believe this?" Y/N groaned, leaning her head against the car window. "We're going to miss the whole race at this rate."
Her friends nodded in agreement, muttering under their breath about the terrible traffic and the incompetence of the organizers. But Y/N couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. This was supposed to be the highlight of their trip, and now it seemed like they might not even make it to the circuit in time.
As they sat there, bored and frustrated, Y/N noticed a group of guys in the car behind them. They were laughing and joking, seemingly undisturbed by the traffic. And then she noticed one of them in particular - a boy with light hair and bright blue eyes, who winked and smiled at her when he realized she was watching him.
"Who are they?" Y/N asked her friends, nodding towards the car behind them.
"I don't know," one of her friends shrugged. "But they're cute."
Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny that the boy with the blue eyes was kind of adorable. And as the traffic continued to crawl along, she found herself stealing glances at him, wondering who he was and why he seemed so familiar.
It wasn't until they finally reached the circuit that Y/N realized who the boy was - Arthur, the younger brother of Charles Leclerc, her favorite F1 driver. Suddenly everything made sense - the blue eyes, the mischievous smile, the effortless charm.
As they were making their way through the crowds, Y/N felt someone bump into her from behind. She turned around to see Arthur standing there, a look of surprise on his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" he said, flashing her a smile. "I didn't mean to bump into you like that."
Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart rate pick up at the sight of him. "It's okay," she replied. "We're all a little crowded here."
As they moved forward, Y/N couldn't help but notice that Arthur was wearing a shirt with the logo of his brother's F1 team. And when he caught sight of the number on her own shirt - Charles' racing number - his eyes widened in recognition.
"Hey, I like your shirt," he said, gesturing to the number. “16 is a great number, isn't it?”
Y/N felt a flush rise to her cheeks as she realized that she had been wearing Charles' number all day without even knowing that his brothers were nearby. "Oh, wow," she said. "I'm a huge fan of his."
Arthur grinned. "Yeah, me too. He's pretty amazing, isn't he?"
Y/N nodded, feeling a sudden wave of shyness wash over her. But as they chatted more, she found herself warming up to Arthur's easy charm and infectious enthusiasm.
"So, are you into racing too?" she asked, curious about the young Leclerc's own ambitions.
Arthur's face lit up. "Yeah, actually. I'm a driver myself - I compete in F2."
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That's amazing. You must be really talented."
Arthur shrugged modestly. "I like to think so. But it's tough out there, you know? It takes a lot of hard work and dedication to make it in this sport."
Y/N nodded sympathetically, feeling a sudden kinship with the young driver.
As they walked towards the grandstands, Arthur couldn't resist making a few cheesy jokes and silly pick-up lines, trying to make Y/N laugh.
"Are you a parking ticket?" he asked with a grin. "Because you've got 'fine' written all over you."
Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at the corny line, but she found herself giggling anyway.
Before they knew it, was time for Arthur to go and find his brothers before the race started. As they said their goodbyes, Arthur pulled out his phone and asked for Y/N's number.
"I'll text you later, Y/N. Maybe we can grab a drink or something?" he said with a smile.
Y/N nodded eagerly, feeling a spark of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.
Arthur hurried to find his brothers, Lorenzo and Charles. As soon as he saw them, he excitedly recounted his encounter with Y/N and how they had hit it off in the queue.
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. "You're telling us about a girl you just met in line? I hope you're not neglecting your training for F2."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course not, but a little distraction never hurt anyone. And besides, Y/N is really cool.”
Charles chimed in, a smile on his face."Well, well, well, look who's got a crush,”nudging Arthur in the ribs.
"You should ask her out," Lorenzo suggested.
Arthur's eyes widened. "What? No way. I barely know her."
Charles snorted. "That's never stopped you before."
Arthur blushed, but nodded in agreement. "I already got her number. And I'm planning on taking her out to dinner next week."
Lorenzo smirked. "Look at you, little brother, all grown up and making moves. Just don't let it affect your racing, okay?"
Arthur laughed, feeling grateful for his brothers' support.
Later that night, as Y/N and her friends were out at a bar celebrating the end of the race, her phone buzzed with a message from Arthur.
"Hey, it's Arthur 😉 I had a great time hanging out with you today. Want to meet up tomorrow?"
Y/N's heart raced as she replied, "Sure! How about we grab lunch at that cute café we saw earlier?"
As the week in Monaco came to an end, Y/N felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving Arthur behind. But as they hugged goodbye, Arthur promised to stay in touch and even invited her to come watch him race in the F2 later that year.
And as Y/N made her way back home, she couldn't help but smile at the memory of the handsome Monegasque boy who had swept her off her feet.
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luxerians · 1 day ago
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The Last Mask (08)
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Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader
Chapter 08 - Distance
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Story Masterlist
NEXT : Chapter 09
PREV : Chapter 07
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The dormitory buzzed with the sounds of light chatter and footsteps as players moved about, their voices mingling in an uneasy hum. You lay on your bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, eyes closed in a futile attempt to block it all out. Sleep was your goal, to escape the heavy thoughts weighing on your mind, even if just until tomorrow.
The faint voice of a guard announcing that dinner would soon be distributed echoed in the background, breaking through your quiet cocoon. Then, the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears. You didn’t bother to open your eyes.
“[Your name], are you okay?” Dae-ho’s familiar voice called gently.
You kept your eyes shut. “I’m okay.”
Dae-ho sighed as well, the sound carrying his frustration. “I’m disappointed too. Jung-bae voting for O? I didn’t see that coming. I felt like screaming, ‘Sir, what are you thinking?’ at him. He agreed with us to vote for going back home just moments before the vote.”
“It can’t be helped,” another voice chimed in. You recognized it immediately as Young-il. It seemed Dae-ho wasn’t the only one who had come to check on you. Keeping your eyes closed, you listened as Young-il added, “People tend to change their minds once they’re standing at the voting counter.”
“Yeah, in a way, I kind of understood him. Because I felt that way too by the counter,” Dae-ho agreed.
A softer voice joined the conversation.
“Big sis, are you okay?” Jun-hee asked.
You finally opened your eyes, taking in the sight of Dae-ho and Jun-hee standing on the right side of your bed while Young-il lingered quietly on the left.
Turning your gaze to Jun-hee, you offered her a faint but reassuring smile. “I’m okay.”
“And we have a pregnant lady too,” Dae-ho continued, picking up where he left off. “She shouldn’t be here any longer.”
He leaned against the pillar of your bunk bed, sighing heavily. “I understood him but… what was Jung-bae thinking?”
The weight on your bed shifted slightly. You glanced down to see Young-il sitting on your bed at the far corner near your feet. His calm demeanor radiated reassurance as he addressed Dae-ho. “There’s no use thinking about it now. The votes are done. Let’s focus on staying together and winning the game again tomorrow.”
The three of them glanced in the same direction, momentarily distracted. You were about to close your eyes again when Dae-ho straightened up, his usual energy returning as he turned to you.
“Everyone is lining up to get dinner. Come on,” he said.
You shifted onto your side, pulling the blanket closer. “You guys go on ahead. I’m too tired right now.”
Dae-ho frowned, his tone firm. “You can’t sleep on an empty stomach. You need to eat. We did the hexathlon for who knows how long and didn’t even get breakfast. You must be starving, so come on.”
“But I’m so tired,” you admitted, your voice muffled against the pillow. “I just want to rest before the next game.”
“Don’t be like that,” he urged. “You’ll end up weak and all skinny tomorrow.”
A brief silence fell before you quipped, “I’m trying to go on a diet anyway, so it’s fine.”
Dae-ho scoffed, waving off your excuse. “Haih, you look beautiful already. Now get up-”
“It’s okay,” Young-il’s calm voice interrupted unexpectedly. “You two go on ahead. The queues are getting long. I’ll persuade her.”
The sound of retreating footsteps followed as Dae-ho and Jun-hee headed off toward the dinner queues. The dormitory buzzed with chatter and movement, but your focus remained on the quiet presence sitting at the edge of your bed.
“You really should eat,” he said after a moment, his tone gentle. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”
You sighed, not turning to face him. “I’m just so done to even think about food. I wanted to go home really bad but we were outvoted.”
There was a pause before the bed shifted as Young-il stood up. His footsteps faded into the background, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the strange ache in your chest – a pang of something like abandonment. By him.
You immediately shook off the thought. It wasn’t his fault. You were the one adamant about not eating, and he had respected your decision. You had no right to feel upset, and you certainly couldn’t blame him for the fact that you had a crush on him.
Maybe he just saw you as a friend. Someone to look out for, like Jun-hee. Nothing more. It was your own fault for letting your feelings get in the way, for reading into his kind gestures as something more than they were.
You tried to tune out the chatter and bustle of the dormitory, sinking into the quiet within your mind. For a fleeting moment, you felt yourself drifting close to sleep.
Then his voice broke through the haze. “[Your name].”
Your eyes fluttered open, the sting of fatigue making them ache. You turned your head and saw Young-il standing by your bed. In his hands, he held the evening’s dinner: a round bun and a small carton of milk.
You frowned, confusion overtaking your grogginess. You had thought he left for good after respecting your persistence.
Resting your cheek against the pillow, you mumbled, “I don’t want to eat your dinner. Don’t worry about me.”
“It’s not mine,” he said, his tone even. “It’s yours.”
Your gaze shifted to the food in his hands. He held two sets of the dinner: two buns and two cartons of milk. Surprise overtook you as you sat up slowly, your blanket slipping down. “You got two?”
“I took another set on your behalf,” he admitted, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Your eyes widened. “We can do that?”
His smile grew, and there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We can’t.”
You blinked, completely perplexed. “Then how did you get two?”
He extended the dinner toward you again, waiting patiently.
“I know what to say to the guards. My line of work taught me how,” he said simply, leaving the specifics a mystery.
You stared at him, caught between disbelief and reluctant admiration, before reaching out to take the meal he had gone out of his way to bring you.
“Now, come,” Young-il said, gesturing toward the corner where you always hung out with Gi-hun and the others. “Let’s sit with the others.”
You glanced down at the bun and carton of milk in your hands before nodding. As you got up from the bed, you spoke to him, “But is this really all we’re getting for dinner? I thought it’d be as much as yesterday’s lunch.”
Walking side by side toward the corner, Young-il replied, “It’s a way to weaken the players and increase eliminations.”
You turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you saying the longer we stay here, the less food we’ll get?”
Young-il met your gaze, his expression thoughtful. “It looks that way. Yesterday, we had a bountiful lunch. Tonight, it’s just a bun. The pattern isn’t hard to see.”
You sighed in frustration, the weight of his words settling in. “That makes it even more important to leave this place as soon as possible.”
Reaching the corner, you were greeted enthusiastically by Dae-ho. “You two, come sit down!”
Gi-hun had sat at his usual spot at the far end, and you settled down beside him. Young-il took the place on your other side. Dae-ho and Jun-hee were already seated on the lower steps in front of you both, their postures relaxed.
You glanced around and noticed that your group was missing one member – Jung-bae. A small distance away, you spotted him tucked between the bunk beds as though he was deliberately hiding.
You assumed he felt guilty for voting O, isolating himself from the group out of shame.
You and Young-il began eating your buns in silence. Everyone in your group was eating, except for Gi-hun. His posture – legs wide, arms resting heavily on his knees – spoke volumes about his disappointment over the recent voting results.
A loud sigh from Dae-ho broke the quiet. He stared at Jung-bae’s back for a moment, chewing on his bun, before calling out to him with the familiar hyungnim honorific. “Jung-bae!”
Meanwhile, you sighed at the meager dinner, placing your left elbow on your knee and resting your forehead against your palm. Your right hand held the bun, and you murmured, “Just this bun alone won’t be enough.”
Dae-ho suddenly stood and strode over to Jung-bae. “Hey, just come back here.”
“No, no, I’m good here,” Jung-bae replied, avoiding eye contact.
“Oh, come on,” Dae-ho said, grasping his arm firmly. He pulled Jung-bae to his feet and dragged him back to the group. “You should’ve gone farther away, then. It bugs me seeing you sitting there all pathetic.”
Jung-bae froze when they reached the group. His eyes darted between the three most visibly stressed members of the group – Gi-hun with his somber stance, you with your hand still resting on your face, and Young-il sitting with his legs spread, elbows on his knees, chewing silently. None of you looked at him.
“I’m sorry,” Jung-bae said, fidgeting nervously with his milk carton. “Jun-hee, [Your name], Young-il, I’m sorry. Gi-hun, I’m sorry.”
When no one responded, he continued. “I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I’ll be able to settle my debt. So-”
“Jung-bae,” Young-il interrupted, his tone calm. “You of all people shouldn’t have done it. It’s not twice as righteous.”
Young-il’s comment was a pointed reference to the meaning of Jung-bae’s name. You removed your hand from your face, took a bite of the bun, and stayed quiet.
Young-il sighed, glancing briefly at the others before adding, “But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted.”
“Right?” Jung-bae said quickly, leaning toward Young-il with a glimmer of relief. “It’s not entirely my fault.”
Dae-ho placed a hand on Jung-bae’s shoulder, his tone lighter now. “Alright, to be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn’t enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game.”
Jung-bae’s face lit up with sudden relief, and before anyone could react, he lunged forward and hugged Dae-ho head-on. Startled, Dae-ho awkwardly tried to push him away.
“You did?” Jung-bae exclaimed.
“I said I get it,” Dae-ho replied, finally managing to pry himself free.
Jung-bae turned to Young-il, sighing deeply.
“Thank you for understanding,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. He settled on the lower staircase next to Young-il and continued, “But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn’t we? If we stick together one more time, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
He turned toward Jun-hee, his voice brimming with confidence. “Jun-hee, I’ll make sure we survive the next game-”
“The next game?”
All of you froze and looked at Gi-hun. His tone was dark. “In the next game, we might have to kill each other.”
His words sent a chill down your spine. You stared at him, horrified. Could it really come to that? Could there be games where you’d have to compete against your friends? The thought made your stomach churn. You’d barely eaten, and now even the bun in your hand felt like a weight.
Young-il’s calm voice broke the silence. “Gi-hun, that’s a bit much. There’s nothing we can do now, so let’s try to stay positive.”
Despite his attempt to ease the tension, Jung-bae had gone pale as well. He swallowed nervously, his hands fidgeting with his milk carton.
Young-il continued, his voice steady, “We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again.”
But Gi-hun’s words lingered, casting a shadow over the group. Everyone, including you, sat in heavy silence, lost in their thoughts. The idea of being pitted against your teammates felt unbearable. Your appetite vanished completely, and the bun in your hand now seemed like an impossible task to finish.
Could Gi-hun have experienced such a game in his previous run? Had he been forced to turn on a friend here? The questions swirled in your mind, filling you with dread.
Then you felt it – a hand gently resting on your knee. Startled, you looked down and saw Young-il’s hand. When you glanced up at him, his expression was warm and reassuring. He gave you a small nod toward your unfinished bun and said softly, “Eat it whole. Let’s do our best again tomorrow.”
Young-il withdrew his hand from your knee and held out his milk carton to Jun-hee. “Here, Jun-hee. You can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game.”
Jun-hee hesitated. “No, it’s okay.”
“Take it,” Young-il insisted gently. “I don’t drink plain milk.”
After a moment, Jun-hee finally accepted the milk, though her reluctance was still evident. You couldn’t help but smile warmly at the gesture. The way Young-il looked after Jun-hee was heartwarming. He must’ve been a good husband, you thought.
“Thank you,” Jun-hee said softly.
Jung-bae suddenly held out his bun to her. “Have my bread too. I don’t deserve to eat.”
Dae-ho immediately pointed at Jung-bae’s milk. “I’ll take your milk then.”
Jung-bae shot him a pointed stare, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and annoyance.
You had just exited the women’s restrooms and stepped back into the dormitory when you saw them. Lingering near the door that connected the restroom to the dormitory stood Lee Min-jae and his two friends.
Min-jae noticed you immediately and waved. You hesitated for a moment before offering a small, uncertain wave in return. Hoping to avoid further interaction, you continued toward the corner where the rest of your group was seated.
However, your heart sank when Min-jae and his friends moved deliberately to block your path. The dormitory was vast, filled with hundreds of players, so you didn’t feel afraid. Still, you silently hoped they wouldn’t press you again.
Min-jae greeted you with a bright smile. “Hey there. I just wanted to check up on you.”
“Oh,” you replied, feigning innocence. “Hi, Min-jae.”
He stepped slightly closer, his tone friendly. “So, are you free to hang out with us now? We’ve got a spot over there.”
He paused, gesturing vaguely toward a corner of the dormitory where his group had set up.
You hesitated, searching for a way out without offending him. “I… uh, I need to get back to my group first. They’re waiting for me.”
Min-jae’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a hint of frustration in his eyes. “It’ll just be for a little while. You can catch up with them later. Come on, I just want to get to know you better in a private spot.”
“I… I don’t know. I really should-”
Min-jae’s tone grew firmer, though he kept up his friendly demeanor. “Don’t be like that. Just for a bit. It’s just us hanging out. No harm, right?”
Min-jae’s friends were watching you intently, though their expressions remained neutral. You forced a polite smile, knowing that one wrong word or tone could create a vengeful enemy in this precarious game.
You said carefully. “Maybe later. I just need to check on my group first.”
But Min-jae’s grin didn’t waver. If anything, it grew more hardened and insistent as he stepped closer to you. “Please? Just a quick chat with us. You’ve been hanging out with those uncles all day. Switch it up for a bit.”
Before you could respond, one of his friends – the tall man with number 277 – joined in. “Yeah, come on. We’re not asking for much. Just a little time to get to know you better.”
“Exactly,” chimed in the other friend, player 304. “It’s not like we’re asking you to stay forever. Just stop by. We’ve got a good spot over there.”
Their persistence made your chest tighten. You forced another smile, trying to remain composed. “I appreciate the offer, but really, I need to get back. Maybe another time.”
“Why not now?” Min-jae pressed, his tone still friendly.
As you searched for another polite excuse, a cold, steady voice cut through the conversation.
“She said no.”
You turned quickly, your eyes landing on Young-il. He was striding toward you. His gaze was fixed on Min-jae, sharp and unyielding. Although his expression seemed calm, a quiet intensity simmered beneath the surface. The restrained fury in his eyes made you speechless. It’s like he was ready to act the moment it became necessary.
Min-jae’s smile faltered slightly, though he tried to recover. “Oh, hey. We just want to have a chat with her. It's okay, right?”
Young-il moved deliberately, stepping between you and Min-jae with an air of quiet authority. His back faced you, shielding you from them. Though his expression remained calm, there was a palpable edge to his presence that made the air feel heavier.
“You’re pressuring her,” he said evenly, his voice carrying a subtle warning. “That’s not how conversations work.”
Silence settled over the group like a heavy weight. Min-jae’s friends exchanged uncertain glances, their earlier confidence clearly shaken.
You couldn’t help but stare at Young-il’s broad shoulders, struck by the way he carried himself. He didn’t need to raise his voice or show aggression; the calm intensity in his posture spoke volumes.
Min-jae hesitated, his expression flickering between defiance and calculation, before forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. With a mock gesture of surrender, he raised his hands and said, “Alright, alright. I get it. I apologize. I didn’t realize I was being forceful.”
His attempt to glance past Young-il toward you betrayed his unease, though. He called your name softly, adding, “Sorry about that.”
Young-il held his gaze, the silence stretching as he stared at Min-jae with deliberate calm. Then, with a slight turn of his head, his expression softened as he looked at you. He gestured subtly, his voice steady. “Let’s go.”
You followed Young-il as he led the way back to the corner where your group had gathered. His stride was steady, and though he didn’t say anything, his presence alone made you feel a little more at ease. You glanced back briefly to check if Min-jae and his friends were following, but they were nowhere in sight, already lost in the dormitory’s usual buzz of activity.
Just as the two of you were about to reach your group, Young-il gently grasped your forearm, stopping you in your tracks.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and calm.
You nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”
His gaze lingered on you, his tone shifting slightly as he asked, “How does he know your name?”
There was an edge to his words, though it didn’t feel like it was directed at you.
“He asked during the voting earlier,” you explained simply. “We were in the crowd, and he came over and introduced himself.”
Young-il’s eyes studied yours, moving from your left eye to your right, then briefly to your lips. You froze under the intensity of his gaze, unsure of what to make of it. After a few seconds that felt much longer, his focus shifted back to your left eye.
He finally lowered his gaze and said firmly, “If those boys bother you again, tell me.”
For a moment, you were at a loss for words. His gesture sent a wave of warmth through you, and you felt that familiar flutter in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach. He is really worried about you.
But even as you stood there, you couldn’t forget the fact that he was married. As close as you two had become, he’d never once mentioned it to you.
You averted your gaze, creating a small but deliberate space between you and Young-il.
“Thanks, but don’t worry. I can take care of myself,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.
For a moment, he didn’t respond. The pause lingered, and though you didn’t look his way, you could feel his confusion, as if he was trying to make sense of your sudden distance. Without waiting for a reply, you joined the group, sliding into the spot next to Jun-hee. Behind you, Young-il remained standing, silent and likely still perplexed.
As the group fell into casual conversation, you focused on Jun-hee, Jung-bae and Dae-ho, purposefully keeping your interactions away from Young-il. Whenever he made a comment directed at you or tried to reassure you about something, you responded with a polite smile but didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, you turned your attention to someone else, engaging them in light talk to avoid any further connection.
This is for the best. For you, for him, and for his wife.
“Lights out in ten minutes,” the announcer informed, the voice echoing through the dormitory. “Please prepare for bedtime.”
Your group was in the middle of executing Gi-hun’s plan. The idea was to claim four beds in one spot to create a secure sleeping area underneath the beds and on the floor between them. Everyone had agreed to the plan, though not without a few questions.
The men were handling the heavier tasks, carrying and arranging the mattresses and securing the area, while you and Jun-hee carried pillows and blankets, standing off to the side as they worked.
“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there,” Jung-bae said, his tone doubtful.
Gi-hun explained, “Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.”
Dae-ho, crouching beside Jun-hee, looked over with wide eyes. “What? Who?”
Meanwhile, Young-il approached you and gestured for the pillows and blankets in your arms. You handed them to him one by one, watching as he placed them on the mattresses.
“The prize money still goes up if we kill each other,” Gi-hun continued. “It’s part of the game they designed.”
Young-il, now standing after arranging a mattress on the floor under one of the beds, spoke up, “Gi-hun, I think you’re overreacting. Even if that were true, people wouldn’t do that.”
Gi-hun’s gaze sharpened as he stared at Young-il. “In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here.”
He stepped closer to Young-il, his tone firm. “You have no idea how people can change in this place.”
You stared at them, noticing the tension in Gi-hun’s face and posture. Young-il paused before nodding apologetically. “Alright. I guess I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m sorry.”
Gi-hun gave Young-il one last look before turning back to address the group. “We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out. I’ll take the first watch. The rest of you should decide the order.”
You exchanged glances with the others. Dae-ho was the first to speak up. “Other than that, we have to figure out who’s sleeping where.”
Jung-bae pointed to the floor between the beds. “Jun-hee should sleep here, near the wall, surrounded by beds. It’ll be safer.”
“Then I’ll take the spot under the bed beside her,” Dae-ho said, glancing at Jun-hee for confirmation. “If that’s okay with you.”
Jun-hee nodded. “I’m okay with that.”
“I’ll take the spot under the bed on the other side of Jun-hee,” Jung-bae added. “It’s best to have two ex-Marines covering your sides.”
Jun-hee smiled in response.
Young-il turned to you, his voice soft. “Which spot do you want to take?”
You paused, glancing at the arrangement before pointing to the space directly under Jun-hee. “I’ll take the middle floor.”
That left the beds on either side of you empty until Young-il spoke up. “I’ll sleep under the bed on your left. That means Gi-hun will take the one on your right.”
“Now we just have to decide the order for keeping watch,” Dae-ho said, looking around the group.
“I’ll take the second watch, after Gi-hun,” Jung-bae said quickly.
Dae-ho raised his hand. “Third watch here.”
You spoke up just as Young-il reached to grab the leftover pillows and blanket from your arms. “Can I keep watch too?”
All eyes turned to you, surprise clear on their faces.
“How about the last watch?” you added. “I can wake up early.”
Dae-ho was the first to respond. “Ladies don’t have to. You and Jun-hee should take a full rest.”
“Yeah, no need for you to worry about keeping watch,” Jung-bae chimed in. “We’ve got this.”
You hesitated, feeling their protective tone press against your resolve.
“But it’s fine if I take the last watch,” you said, lowering your gaze briefly. “I want to freshen up before the next game anyway.”
Dae-ho and Jung-bae exchanged glances, clearly about to argue, when Young-il’s calm voice cut through. “Okay, you take the last watch.”
Everyone turned to him in confusion, while you blinked at him in surprise. Young-il glanced at the others briefly before settling his gaze on you.
“I’ll take the fourth watch, after Dae-ho,” he said evenly. “Then it’s your turn. But I’ll keep watch with you. It’s not safe for you to do it alone.”
The group nodded in agreement and that was the end of discussion. You, however, stayed quiet, your thoughts swirling. Young-il’s calm decision left you unsettled. The idea of him accompanying you brought a flutter of nerves you couldn’t quite suppress. You’d been trying to create some distance, to remind yourself of his marriage. Yet here he was, volunteering to accompany you.
It left you torn. A part of you appreciated his thoughtfulness. But another part of you couldn’t shake the complicated feelings his actions stirred, leaving you wondering how you’d handle the quiet hours of your shared watch.
A few minutes passed as the six of you settled into your designated spots. The announcer’s voice broke through the murmurs in the dormitory to announce bedtime. Moments later, the lights switched off, leaving the soft golden glow of the half-filled piggy bank overhead to dimly illuminate the vast room.
Dae-ho and Jung-bae were already lying under the beds, while Jun-hee rested on the mattress positioned on the open floor between them.
“This sucks,” Jung-bae muttered from his spot. “Feels like I’m hiding under my old desk at school.”
Dae-ho chuckled softly. “Pretend it’s a fun sleepover. We’re just missing the snacks and ghost stories.”
As their quiet exchange continued, you glanced over and noticed Gi-hun was sitting at the front, keeping watch.
Then, you felt a presence close beside you. Turning your head, you saw Young-il crouched beside you on your mattress on the open floor. He paused, glancing at you apologetically as he moved to sit down.
“Sorry,” he muttered, referring to him intruding your space.
You shook your head. “It’s fine.”
Young-il shifted onto the edge of your mattress before sliding onto his own spot under the bed beside you. You watched as he settled in before you finally lay down and pulled the blanket over yourself.
The space felt smaller now, the awareness of his presence lingering. You never thought you’d be this close to him, sharing such confined quarters. But as the thought crossed your mind, you pushed it away quickly. He’s married. You shouldn’t let yourself think about him like this.
You closed your eyes, wishing for sleep to come quickly and pull you away from your restless thoughts.
Please feel free to leave comments and feedback about my story, the characters, the "you", and practically anything! I love reading your comments, especially long ones!
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NEXT : Chapter 09
PREV : Chapter 07
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flrlgreen · 1 year ago
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lights, camera, action (kento nanami x reader) + twt prn links
a/n: been thinking about porn star nanami heavily. (again, i'm tired sorry for any errors.)
cw: fem reader, DADDY KINK, filming, size kink, vaginal sex, use of the names good girl, pretty girl, fingering, reader has a vagina, breeding, unprotected sex, HEAVY dom sub dynamics.
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Kento Nanami was popular, and for good reason. He was damn good at what he did. When you found out you two would be working together your heart fluttered a bit. In this business, you’ve worked with a lot of different people, but Nanami was different. He was one of the most popular, if not THE most popular male adult movie star on the scene right now. 
You felt nervous as you sat in the makeup chair. The soft bristles touched your skin for what seemed like the millionth time until you heard a ‘you’re all done!’ from the makeup artist. “What do you think?”  She asks as you run a hand through your styled hair and look in the mirror in front of you. “I love it. Thank you.” You say and admire your reflection in the mirror.  “I’m glad!” She says and as if on queue the director enters. You spin the chair around to look at him. “Great, you’re done. Nanami is here. Filming starts in 45 minutes.” He says and as quickly as he entered he left. 
You let out a sigh say your thanks to the makeup artist one last time and walk onto the cold sterile set. There was some light chatter before you entered, but when the director and Nanami saw you it all came to a halt. 
Nanami catches your attention immediately. God, this man was TALL. Much bigger than you in every single way, and the fact he was drop-dead gorgeous didn’t help calm your nerves. “Just the girl we were talking about.” The director says. “O-oh! Hi.” You say meekly and walk over to the two men. Nanami smiles when he sees how nervous you are. “Hello, I’m Nanami.” He says and his big hand reaches out to shake yours. 
It was like you had short circuited. Your smaller hand wrapped around his. Fuck, he’s so big. How’s his dick going to fit? You didn’t realize you were shaking his hand without saying anything until you snapped out of your perverted haze. “H-hi! I’m sorry.” You apologize, he doesn’t seem to mind your nervousness. If anything, he thinks it’s cute.
Despite a very awkward start, before you know it you get lost in conversation with your scene partner, and when filming started the acting and fluff before the actual sex scenes didn’t feel as robotic and awkward as they always do with the other men you shoot with. 
But now, it’s time for the actual thing. 
The blonde man was greedily kissing your soft lips while his strong hands roamed your small frame. You were straddling him and grinding on his rock-hard bulge. He let out some moans into the kiss. He kissed you with so much want, and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced on a porn set before. His teeth grazed and tugged on your bottom lip while his hands began to unclasp your bra. 
When your bra hits the bed Nanami pulls away from the intense kiss to admire your plump breasts. “Pretty girl, has such pretty little tits.” He groans before immediately latching onto your hardened bud. 
He sucks on your right nipple while his big hand massages the other one. “D-daddy, fuck. Feels good~” You moan. Making sure to be louder than you usually would be to play it up for the camera. The sounds of light sucking and soft whiny moans fill the room while he works on your tits. “My pretty girl.” He gives each one of your tits one last kiss before turning you on your stomach and getting behind you for the next scene. 
He massages the fat of your ass before his hand starts to dip into your wet panties. “Sweet little Baby is already so wet for me. So fucking cute.” He says as his index finger begins to push your wet panties to the side and prods at your wetness. “I’m so wet for Daddy.” You reply. Your words go straight to his impossibly hard cock. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” He says and shoves a digit in your cunt. He can’t hold himself back anymore.  
“F-fuck!” You yelp while his thick digit goes in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. “Mhm, so fucking tight and wet for Daddy, Baby.” He says while slowly speeding up the movement of his finger before adding another. “Feels so good Daddy. F-fuck.” You look straight into the camera while he works his magic on your pussy with his fingers. The bright lights are shining down on you two illuminating the glistening wetness on his fingers. 
Nanami is very gifted when it comes to pleasuring women. You can tell why he was so popular with other adult actresses. 
He climbs on you while his pointer and middle finger are knuckles deep in you while he bites and licks the shell of your ear while you cry and moan like a whore for the camera. “R-right there!” You cry out when he hits the spot that makes you see stars. “Right here, Baby?” He teases and hits your g spot with his thick fingers. “Yes, Daddy! I can’t!” You cry when he hits your sweet spot over and over. 
He smiles against the shell of your ear and pulls his fingers out of your wetness suddenly. You whine and clench around nothing and before you could even retort, the blonde man turns you on your back and you watch as he brings his two slicked fingers to his mouth. His tongue darts out and licks up the sweet fluid all over his fingers. “You taste good Sweetheart.” He says and licks every last drop of your arousal off of his fingers. 
“Stop,” You cover your face with your hands and try not to look at the man in front of you. “It’s embarrassing Daddy.” You say behind your hands. Nanami smiles and moves your hands away from your face. “Come here, Baby. Taste yourself on my tongue.” He leans in and shoves his strong tongue into your desperate and needy mouth.
The taste of him and your sweet arousal was mind-numbingly good. You suck on his tongue and you can hear him moan into the kiss. You suck every last drop of your arousal out of your scene partner's mouth. When the kiss eventually breaks there’s a long trail of spit connecting you two. “So good, take off that slutty little skirt and panties now.” He demands, his eyes filled with lust. Pupils dilated. 
You obey Nanami and take off your soaked panties along with your short skirt that didn’t really cover much. His gaze stays on your glistening pussy the whole time, even while he takes off his own pants and boxers. When your panties were completely off you admire his pretty cock, but his gaze never left you. 
He was big. No surprise there. The tip leaked  pre cum. It dripped all the way down to his trimmed pubes. “Do you like what you see?” He teases and strokes his cock a couple of times. “Yeah, it’s so big Daddy.” You reply. He laughs. “You sure you can take it?” He says while pushing you flat on your back while nestling between your now spread legs. 
“Mhm~” You say. “Daddy’s girl has such a pretty little cunt.” He says when he gets completely situated between your legs. “So cute,” He hisses before rubbing the tip of his leaking cock head on your wet folds. “Mn- I could cum just from this.” He says continuing to rub the tip up and down occasionally catching your clit and circling it. 
“Daddy put it in. Please. No teasing.” You cry when you feel his warm pre cum smear on your aching clit. “But it’s gonna hurt,” He says, voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Don’t care, need it no- FUCK!” 
The stretch is something you’ve never felt before. All the cocks you’ve taken don't even compare to his. The stretch is so delicious. His cock fills you to the brim and you swear you’ve never felt so full. “So big, oh my fucking god.” You cry while he bottoms out inside your pussy.
“You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.” He hisses and grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder to go deeper. You’re in heaven, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You feel like you could melt. 
The camera man gets up from his chair. The focus of the camera shifts over to where you two are connected. The way your pussy glistened with wetness under the harsh bright lights made Nanami’s cock twitch inside of you. “Good girl. You’re taking me so well.” He moans while speeding up his thrusts. The camera pans over to your fucked out face. 
You know for a fact you look like a hot mess. Makeup smudged and hair ruined. “I’m so full!” Right when those words escape your mouth Nanami hits your cervix. “I can’t!” You feel like you’re going to pass out in this very bed. 
Nanami pulls his cock out before slamming it back in so many times you can’t count. You weren’t even keeping track of the amount of times he hit that spot inside you. The camera goes back and forth between capturing your face and zooming in on your abused pussy. 
Nanami’s grunts fill the room which tells you he is reaching his peak soon. “Best pussy I’ve ever had. I need to fill you up and breed you.” He grips your thigh and drills you harder than before. From this angle, he was only going deeper with each thrust. “Do you feel good Sweetie?” He asks while sweat drips down his forehead. You can only nod. “I can’t fuck. I’m gonna.” You can feel his whole body tense up while he gets the last of his sloppy thrusts in. 
The camera is on him now. The focus is on his last couple of thrusts. He’s almost whining while he spills his seed inside of you. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to cum that fast.” He huffs and apologizes. “It’s okay Daddy.” You reply as he pulls out. You watch as his thick cock slides out along with his warm cum. “Okay cut!” The director yells. 
(To be continued??? Maybe.)
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outsideratheart · 1 year ago
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A Return Worth Celebrating (Fridolina Rolfo x reader)
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A/N: Here’s a little something to celebrate Frido’s return to team training!
Monday’s had the reputation of being terrible but not this Monday. No, today was a good day. Today was the day that Fridolina Rolfö, your girlfriend, returned to team training. 
“You ready?” You ask as you walk out onto the field together. 
“As I’ll ever be” the blonde wore a smile on her face but you knew deep down that she was nervous. The two of you had spent the night previous cuddled in bed discussing what the blonde was feeling and why she was feeling it. 
Before you reach the group you wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her close as you place a gentle kiss on her hairline. 
“You’ve got this. You are strong and you are powerful” 
“What? I’m not beautiful today?” Fridolina knows the mantra well, you had made her say it to herself whenever she was having a bad day. 
“You, Miss Rolfö, will always be beautiful in my eyes. Now let’s get going. I’ve haven’t been late once this season and I won’t have you tarnishing my impeccable record” you jog off towards your team mates. 
“Right because I’m the bad influence out the two of us” the swede says sarcastically. Everyone knew it was you who corrupted her. 
The session goes better than Frido expected. Her passes were accurate, her movement fluid and much to her surprise her fitness wasn’t far off from where it was before. It did come as a shock to find your cubby empty as she entered the locker room. She assumed you had gone for a shower until she saw a note sitting in her locker. 
I had to go. See you at home. 
I love you, always. 
Y/N. 
“What no celebrations for your return?” Ingrid asks. 
“Looks like she had a meeting or something. We discussed our schedules on Friday and she didn’t mention anything. It must be something last minute” Frido defended your actions even if they had hurt her. 
She had been so excited to be back on the pitch for numerous reasons but being able to play with you again was top of that list. You seemed so happy for her this morning and she automatically assumed you would do something together to celebrate. 
Little did she know you did have plans to celebrate. Your celebrations were a little bit more intimate than what was planned with the team. 
As on queue, Frido walks into your shared apartment just as you finish setting the table. 
When the blonde walked through the hallway she smelt home, more specifically a home cooked meal. Then, as she turned the corner, she saw you standing next to the candle light table. 
“Baby, i’m so proud of you” 
She was rendered speechless. 
“Say something, please” you ask politely. 
She says nothing. She lets her actions do the talking and you don’t complain at all. You loved moments like this when it was just the two of you. When you could express your love with kisses and other displays of affection. 
“Is that my —“
“Kött” you pull away from her hold to read the name of the meal of your hand “Köttbullar” 
Frido pulled your hand towards her to see if you had really written down the name of the meal. Lo and behold, you had. 
“I think I did it right. I was this close” you pinch your thumb and index thumb very close together “to going to Ikea and buying some” 
You follow to the take and pull the chair out for her. 
“For you, m’lady” 
“Why thank you” she kisses your cheek as a show of appreciation. 
You watch nervously as she takes a bite of the meatball. It mimicked the nervous energy you feel as you watch a team mate take a penalty. She takes her time and it feels like she chews it 100 times before giving any indication of whether it’s good or not. 
“5 stars” Frido does a little happy dance in her seat “who knew this is what you were preparing for when you ate my Mamma’s Köttbullar by the bucket full” 
“It was all apart of my master plan” you raise your eyebrows playfully. 
“Is that right? What else does this master plan entail?” Frido asks curiously. 
“Stick around and you’ll find out” 
You had a lot planned for you and Fridolina. Some things had been ticked off, some were in motion and others were due in the future. 
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boba-beom · 1 year ago
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ೃ⁀➷ airport crush pt 2 | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW
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pairing: brother's best friend!yeonjun x fem!reader
genre: smut, fluff, kinda angsty
wc: 3.4k
warning: angstier than I thought oops, smut with plot, arguing, yeonjun pining for reader, jealousy, possessive yj at some point, but also lowkey sub!yeonjun ngl, reader confesses about the past but yj does for the present, heavy petting, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, just the tip tease, piv but yj doesn't cum— mile high club ;) , toilet sex again, pet names (baby, good girl, good boy), praises (both), yj calls reader mommy ONCE, light marking, let me know if I've missed anything!
summary: after spending some time with your airport crush, yeonjun's pissed you were spending your time 'efficiently' with someone who isn't him. but you agreed to do anything so he wouldn't snitch to your brother about the marks on your neck.
a/n: the long-awaited next part is here, there is one more main part after this. I hope you enjoy this part just as much as yeonjun did hehe what better way to save this than for @majestyjun's 24 days with yeonjun for our jjunie's birthday! ♥
airport crush part 1 (beomgyu)
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boarding the plane was no problem, beomgyu had made you laugh in the queue–maybe even flirted–despite the slight delay, but it didn't go unnoticed by the people around you. you heard yeonjun subtly bickering with your brother, but soobin wasn't having any of it—he was too jet-lagged to even give two shits at this point. you knew this was going to be a long flight ahead of you and yet all you could think about was beomgyu and his fingers, and how bad you want him to—
you heard a ping and looked down at your phone to see beomgyu had airdropped you a note as your way of messaging each other before the plane had set off. he sent you a few memes and your scoffs would turn into chuckles until you both decided to rest and talk when you reach the airport.
it was a given that yeonjun isn't keen on whatever is going on between you and your newfound fuck buddy. yeonjun may be two years older than you, but there's something about him that you weren't aware of.
"yn? are you even listening to me?" yeonjun fakes a heartache with his palm flat on his chest while you give him a deadpan glare. "and what's happened to your 'stranger danger' policy?"
"yeonjun, I can't lie, I've developed this talent to block you out. now you're like white noise to me." you force a smile until it immediately dropped. "also, YJ, I'm not a kid anymore. I'm literally in my early twenties, chill out."
he scoffs, an annoyed smile crawling on his lips. "and I'm literally just looking out for you, how do you not see that?"
"I don't need you to look after me, m'kay? I have soobin for that. even still, just let me make my own choices." turning your body slightly, facing the window.
you couldn't care less with what he had to say. you were just pissed that it was him, and not beomgyu, sitting next to you. beomgyu was sitting a few rows down from you on the opposite site of the plane, you could just about spot the plum tinge of his hair. soobin, on the other hand, was sitting between random people in the middle section of the plane, a couple of rows in front of you and yeonjun. you weren't in their line of sight, and vice versa.
that's going to be a problem.
"you know what annoys me actually? the fact that you're so smug about this whole thing. you meet a stranger and now you feel like you've met the love of your life." you roll your eyes and take a deep breath before exhaling your frustration.
"oh boo you, is it because I managed to find someone to hook up and have fun with before this holiday even started?" you retort, refusing to look at him, bearing in mind that there are a few people sleeping around you.
"oh for fucks sake, yn, grow up." you hear him exhale.
you scoff. "me? no, yeonjun. you, grow the fuck up. I'm sick and tired of whatever problem it is you have with me."
raking his hands through his hair, he looks up before placing a hand on your knee, “listen here, little miss princess, stop being a fucking brat, you’re so annoying like that.” but what you don’t know is that it's slightly turning him on, knowing how hot-headed you can be, he secretly loves how argumentative you two are and he sort of thrives off of that. he had no intention for it to take a turn like this though.
you stare at him, eyes steady, narrowing and not wavering even a little bit. “and you’re starting to piss me off, choi.” you unbuckle the seatbelt over your hips, your hand pushing off his from your thigh before passing his legs to scoot yourself to the aisle, catching soobin's sleeping form and making your way to the toilet at the end of the plane.
from beomgyu’s peripheral vision, he turns his body to look back, watching you make your way to the toilet and noting the dull look on your face. his eyes trailed behind you to find yeonjun who looked like he was chasing after you. he sits back comfortably, sighing and rolling his eyes from the thought of what yeonjun must have done to piss you off this time.
yeonjun knocks on the door and calls your name softly a couple of times, “let me in. come on, talk to me.”
you sigh, not wanting people to continue watching him knocking on the door, and for all they know you two look like you’re in some sort of lovers quarrel. he quickly enters as soon as you open the door, and you scoot aside as an attempt to make space for his six foot figure.
“and you couldn’t just leave me alone? how embarrassing.” you huff, crossing your arms against your chest, but due to the close proximity, you can feel his breath fanning by your neck.
“you want to talk about embarrassing? how about hooking up with a stranger at the airport? hmm?” he retorts, slightly raising his voice at you.
you cover his mouth to remind him to keep his voice down.
“what the fuck is this obsession about me hooking up with beomgyu. just say you’re jealous and go, oh my god, yeonjun." you aggressively whisper.
your chest heaves from the anger gradually coming out, and if you weren't in a plane right this moment then yeonjun would definitely get a taste of your wrath. it was silent for a moment with the both of you holding this intense eye contact with a hint of something unspoken. yeonjun breaks away first, turning around as much as he can with his hand back to running through his teal strands.
"I am." is all he mutters.
"you are what?" you exasperatedly rub at your temples with your eyes shut in the hopes that he'd just be straight with you.
"I am jealous." he starts. "god, all this time I tried to avoid the littlest thoughts about you, and now that you've grown up to be such a confident, intelligent and beautiful woman it's kind of hard not to be around you."
your head shoots up, almost breaking your neck at his confession. a million things were going on in your head but not a single thought was stable enough to comprehend that your crush throughout your childhood and teenage years had liked you all this time.
it took you so long to get over him, and after being completely over him for two long years, he's thrown away all your efforts.
"I... hate you." your voice breaks, tears threatening to run down your cheek, tired of his stupid games.
the warmth of his body starts radiating even more, feeling him lean closer than you already were. your eye contact lasts for less than a second until he crashes his lips on yours with his hands desperately fumbling with your arms and throwing it over his shoulders before finding purchase on your waist.
the kiss was messy. nothing but teeth clashing and heavy breaths until yeonjun swiftly swaps places with you and hits your back against the door, hard enough for it to just rattle gently.
"you don't hate me." yeonjun whispers before diving in to capture your lips again.
the pace of the kiss was starting to pick up; his hands gradually lifting your shirt until his hands were massaging and roaming over the mounds of your breasts through your bra, whining from the contact, and your fingers tangling themselves in his dishevelled hair.
you let out soft whimpers as soon as his plush lips peppers along the column of your neck, a heated trail over the hickeys that beomgyu had left before.
"I hate you so much," you whine.
"you look so hot marked up, too bad this area's been marked by someone else." he growls in your ear, while his hands busy themselves by tugging down your sweatpants.
the material of your sweatpants fell just above your knees and that was enough for yeonjun to slide his fingers into your panties, roughly circling your clit with his middle finger, making your core twitch with every circle he drew.
"oh fuck, jjun—" a moan got stuck in your throat while yeonjun went back to attacking your lips with soft nibbles on your bottom lip.
his lips descended down your body, from your neck, littering kisses over your breasts, down your navel and straight to your plush thighs. his finger stopped working on you and instead, grabbing ahold of one of your thighs to prop over his shoulder so he could kiss and suck on your inner thighs.
"you should be marked more often, only where I can see them." after leaving a mark on your skin, he sensually flicks his tongue on the surface, giving you a preview on what his tongue could be used for.
"shut up and eat me out already." you lace your fingers in his hair, tugging on them to inflict minor pain.
yeonjun's dick throbbed from the way you explicitly said that aloud, never thinking he'd hear you say that.
his hands steadied your hips, holding on tightly and kitten licking at your clit. the wet muscle twirling around your bundle of nerves had you holding in your moans, letting out airy grunts as an attempt.
"so sweet." yeonjun draws back before diving his face straight into your core, sticking his tongue out and lapping up at your entrance. you could feel the vibrations from his moans as soon as he sticks his tongue into your slick cunny. it was difficult to not get so wet when yeonjun's lips felt like heaven on yours, and you felt like your soul was ascending when they were all over your body.
"YJ— fuck, did you know I— mmh, liked you back then?" you struggle getting your sentence out when yeonjun's basically tongue fucking your pussy.
he ignores your question and groans against your core, his tongue reaching as far as it can inside you, but every time his nose bumped your clit you'd curl in a little. annoyed, you tug his hair back so he's looking up at you, the dim light in the toilet reflecting the sheen layer of spit and your arousal on his lips and dripping down his chin.
"I asked you a question."
he grabs your wrist, shaking off your hold on his roots and brought the back of your fingers to his lips. "I knew." and then he inserted your index and middle fingers past his lips, feeling his tongue dancing between and around your digits.
you could moan at the sight, knowing that he probably knows those are the two fingers you used to fuck yourself to the thought of him.
"then why didn't you say anything? do you know how hard I wanted you to notice me?" you almost whine.
"oh trust me, I always noticed you." he guides your fingers at your dripping entrance. "I didn't want to make a move because you're my best friend's little sister. Soobin would fucking kill me if I thought about you like that, hell, he'd kill me if he finds out I'm eating you out several rows away from him."
you wince at his choice of words, but more so when he flat tongues your clit while controlling your fingers pumping in and out of you. but it wasn't enough.
"jjun, I need more." you quietly cry behind the palm of your hand, trying to keep your cries at bay.
he sucks at your bead until a quick yelp slipped past your lips, grabbing him by the collar of his quarter-zip and pulling him up to kiss you. the taste of your arousal lingered on your tongue as he plays around with yours.
this was something you had wet dreams about. something that you desperately wanted every time you saw him come over. the things you would think about when he'd bring his then-girlfriends around when he was hanging out with soobin.
"please, I want to feel a little more." you hate to beg, but you were thinking, you're already in this situation, why not go the extra mile?
"of course, baby. anything for you." he switches up so easily now that he's confessed to you, wondering that all this time he could have been bearable if he had just told you, even if you were to keep it between yourselves, he would have been so much easier to deal with.
yeonjun spreads his wet kisses along your jaw and behind your ear, imitating your quiet moans as you continue to unzip his loose jeans, pulling them down just below his balls.
as he strokes his length, you lean your head against his shoulder, looking down and observing how pretty his dick is; the pink tip that's a similar tone to his lips with a clear bead of pre-cum dribbling out slowly. not to mention his girth was perfect to the point you could feel yourself aching to have him inside you.
"should I just put the tip in?" yeonjun mumbles by your temples.
he aligns the head of his cock at your entrance, feeling the faint stretch as it dips inside. you sigh, wanting more but he purposely slides it against your folds an swiping over your clit. the motion had you exhaling your breath that you had been subconsciously holding in ever since he was stroking himself.
"yeonjun, please. I want you inside of me." you beg so prettily that yeonjun could feel his dick twitch in his hand, his eyes tightly shut briefly.
"want you to feel good." his sentences have now reduced to wanting to please you, he didn't care about himself, though you're about to wet his dick, he was still doing whatever you wanted.
you hold onto his shoulders, one leg wrapped around his hip as he pushes in, feeling the delicious stretch against your walls. "gonna. fuck. you. so. good." he grunts in between shallow thrusts.
his hands are glued to your hips and under your thigh, holding you in place for him to fuck in this small compartment. but that doesn't stop him from eagerly reaching as deep as he can inside you. his thrusts get deeper after every other kiss you leave on his neck and collar bone, loving the way your lips makes his skin tingle.
the speed of yeonjun's thrusts get faster, and the hold your pussy has on his cock gets tighter. he has his eyes trained on your face, watching your brows knit and your mouth parting.
"mmhh yeah, that's it baby, right there." you moan by his ear and his pace picks up gradually. he loves the way you want more of his dick, not beomgyu's, but his.
the corners of his lips quirked up at the thought of you forgetting about beomgyu and wanting him at that moment. yeonjun wanted to take this chance to show you he could fuck you better than whatever beomgyu did.
"like that?" he whispers, pulling up your shirt and bra so your boobs were on full display.
he gawked at the sight of your bare chest in front of him, his hips not faltering a single bit; still aiming to make you cum on his dick. it took him no second thoughts to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, sucking and releasing with 'pop' sounds and repeating as he hears more of your mixture of moans and whimpers.
you loved the sensation of yeonjun's tongue and pillowy lips on your boobs, but his dick was starting to drill into you, feeling your mind going hazy with every stroke against your gummy walls.
"I'm close." you whimper above him, his lips still suckling at your aroused nipple and the other massaging it in the palm of his hand.
"wan' you to cum around me mommy." his words were muffled from his occupied mouth, but the slight rasp in the way he said it was ticking your orgasm closer by the millisecond.
yeonjun lets go of your boob and starts playing with your clit again, his thrusts doesn't falter even when you clench around him like a vice, your walls convulsing around him. your moans were becoming dangerously loud, and if it wasn't for yeonjun swallowing your moans by helplessly kissing you, then you were sure you would have a flight attendant knocking at the door.
your thighs start shaking under his hold as you leak down your legs but yeonjun pulls out, his cock still standing strong as reaches for the tissues to clean up your mess.
"feel better?" he wipes down the remaining droplets by your knees, before throwing the tissue away and tucking his hard dick into his baggy jeans.
you cock your head to the side, "you didn't cum?"
"it's okay, just wanted to make you feel good, remember? you were about to transform into a dragon out there with all your huffing and puffing. and even though I got my dick wet, at least it was by you." you slap his shoulder light-heartedly, scoffing at his comment before you both bursted into a shared laugh.
"you were irritating me that's why." you reply. "and you really are just that obsessed with me huh? that why your temper went down too?"
you watch him check up on himself through the mirror, relaying a slow nod to you. noting the faint couple of hickeys you left just under his collar, it's as if he knew what you were thinking and he zipped up his quarter-zip a little higher than before. he seemed more peaceful now, and you found it cute that the tip of his ears were blushing pink.
"I am obsessed with you. literally can't stop thinking about you." his hand reaches for your waist and brings you closer until your chests collide.
"okay, lover boy. take it easy on the simp talk." he scoffs, but the smile he has on his face seems like he's satisfied even when you haven't said how you currently feel towards him.
"can I have another kiss? literally miss your lips already." he kisses your shoulder slowly, maybe leaving two or three. something about that gesture made your heart drop.
you were selfish. you just met beomgyu who you have a good feeling about. but that isn't enough for you apparently. you have yeonjun wrapped around your finger and the fact that he's obsessed with you just as much as you were for him just feeds that emptiness you'd been feeling for so long.
"yn? you know you can say no." you snapped out of your thoughts and didn't realise there was a gap, as much as there can be, between you and yeonjun.
"kiss me." your hands are splayed flat on his chest, caressing the area with your thumb as he cups your cheek with one hand and pulls you in by the hip with the other.
your lips have only kissed three people in your lifetime. your first kiss in freshman year college, beomgyu and now yeonjun. but you seem just as in need of his lips as he is with yours. they were perfect and pouty. soft but also dangerously addictive. and the way he lets you lightly trap his bottom lip between your teeth just makes you want him even more.
you both pull away, a short string of saliva fallen from your lips which has yeonjun's eyes filled with lust for you.
"I- I think we should head out. we're lucky it isn't a full plane." you stutter from the gaze he had on you just a second before.
"it's fine. we'll never see these people again." yeonjun chuckles at you for your attempt at discretion. "and I don't think they cared enough to stop us."
you shrugg at his response, adjusting your shirt even though it still wasn't going to miraculously cover the hickeys beomgyu left.
as soon as you open the door, you step out first and yeonjun stepping out after with him faking a cover up conversation for the people you would walk past to hear, "are you feeling better now?"
you find your row and take your seat, nudging him, "oh shut up." and he laughs at your response.
you genuinely did feel better after the released tension, but now you just don't know how you're going about this sticky situation you were in. you see beomgyu slowly turn his head and you keep an eye on his purple hair until he looks at you, shooting you a smile.
and you still felt your heart skip a beat for him.
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daddyricsdoll · 1 year ago
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The guy coming home to me ✭ Carlos Sainz
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Summary: Investing in a F1 team in the middle of your worldwide tour was very outrageous and threw many questions at you. But of course they didn't know that you happened to date one of the drivers in the team, until a concert in Singapore.
Warnings: None, I know it's so different of me.
Word count: 0.7k
A/N: Based off of this request.
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You try to ignore all the camera’s that surround you, never getting a break whether you're picking up groceries or attending a big sports event. The voices behind the camera’s ask you questions that all revolve around the same thing– Your new sponsorship with Scuderia Ferrari F1 team.
It had come as a surprise to nearly everyone as you were halfway through your worldwide tour and decided to shake hands with a team in a sport you secretly loved. But they didn’t know that, and they also didn’t know about your months-long relationship with Carlos Sainz, one of the two drivers for the team. 
The week of the Singapore Grand Prix had started and you had meticulously planned your concert in the same country and city as one of your favourite races.
So on the Thursday in which all the drivers did media work you sat in a stadium counting the hours until you could do what you love, with the person you love in the same premises. As you received free paddock passes they received concert tickets and tonight happened to be the day everything lined up.
It was a coincidence to people that glanced, but the ones that stared could have noticed it was more. Probably from the times I went to races and interacted with many people but disappeared with a specific someone or when my attention couldn’t be divided between both Ferrari drivers and stuck to one. The one with dark brunette hair and eyes that glisten the same colour. Full and plump lips that I enjoy against mine, compliment his smooth accent and delicate fingers that can show rough. 
Apparently Carlos had been scrutinised about it as well, but listening to his P.R had paid off and he slid out of the situation easily. Therefore when you asked him to attend one of your concerts he accepted but with the company of a few of his fellow drivers. It was under one hour until you were to get on stage and the driver’s decided to give you a little good luck. You greeted them all with hugs, one lasting longer than others but they didn’t notice.
“You gonna do something special for us?” Lando asks jokingly. 
“You gonna get a podium?” You ask in the same tone and manage to gain a chuckle from him. 
You have to cut your conversations short and run off for final costume and makeup touch ups before making your way on stage. But not without Carlos sneaking his way through and wishing you a more personal good luck. He captures your lips in his and then mutter’s a few words against your skin. “Good luck Cariño, but I already know you’re gonna do great.” And in the time he leaves to get seated you stand at the back of the stage waiting for your queue. 
It makes you beam at how the crowd screams when they capture your silhouette and even  better when you actually emerge on stage. Through every song, you catch a glimpse of Carlos, his eyes always on you. 
As it edges closer into the night you realise how fast time has gone by, in which you have reached your last song of this warm night–Karma. You put all of your last energy into this song moving from one end of the stage to the other.
As you reach the near end of the bridge you make your way to the end of the stage with your eyes stuck on Carlos’ it was more than obvious. “Karma is the guy on the tracks, coming straight home to me.” You point at him with a proud smile as red and yellow fireworks emit into the sky accompanied by the same colours of confetti and lights.
You continue singing but can’t hold back your laughter as the faces of everyone in the stadium alter, especially the drivers. They all start shouting and bunch around Carlos with wide grins on their faces, including hints of curiosity. Through the crowd you manage to catch a glance of Carlos and you couldn’t be happier with the expression he wears. His big smile as his friends jump around him and confetti covers them all. He catches your eye and mouths “te amo”, you mouth it back and let out a content sigh, happy that he is the guy coming home to you.
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witchthewriter · 2 years ago
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, human reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
inspired by @angelltheninth (check out their work, it’s amazing!)
a/n: All characters are aged up and over the age of 18. Let me know if you want me to do more characters in the Avatar preferences xx
Warning: this is sfw, but I accidentally have a few sexual innuendos...
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ            
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿  
𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: Not in an established relationship, but both of you are interested in one another. You had made your way to Pandora because you’re a journalist excited to write about this new world. You didn’t think romance would be in the cards, but here you are, completely head over heels. 
𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞
・Understands your curiosity, as he felt the same way 
・He isn’t as defensive as other Na’vi would be
・Lets you touch and feel his fangs, tail and ears. 
・On instinct, his ears flicker, like cats’ do when they sense something is near 
・You wouldn’t be ready for his tail though. Being up close to it - god it would be massive. His actual tail is smooth, just like his body. But at the end, it has a different texture, it’s a bit fuzzier. 
・What really interested you was the queue. It was connected from the back of his head and ended in tendril like forms.  
・Eywa didn’t intend on humans coming to Pandora, but because there are similarities between humans and Na’vi, when you touched it, it felt like a small shock throughout your body
・You yelped when it happened, and Jake laughed so much he snorted
・In this situation, Jake would definitely be laying down on his back, swatting you playfully with his tail
・No matter your height, it’s nothing compared to Jake’s. His long legs are stretched out, and that’s when you become fascinated with his feet
・” You’re feet are HUGE!?”
・A lot of comparisons: putting hands against each other, measuring how much distance there is between your heights etc
𝐍𝐞𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐢
・She would see your curiosity as a positive thing as her features are strongly related to her spirituality. Her pointed ears, fangs and tail were specially created by Eywa so that she could experience her world in the most intense way
・Swats your hand away at first, but then realises she likes the feel of your hands
・You touch her apprehensively, not wanting to cross any boundaries
・But once Neytiri sees that you’re trying to be respectful, she would answer your questions before you even voice them
・You don’t prod or poke, but gently feel and caress
・Scrunches her nose when you stare at her fangs
      “I wish I had fangs-” you blurted out. 
“You have features that are most beautiful,” Neytiri replies, moving the hair out of your eyes
・She laughs when you start chasing her, trying to catch her tail 
      “Skxawng!” She shrieks joyfully, turning around to grab ahold of you.
・Collapsing on the ground, she turns her head to look at you, and holds your cheek in her hand “beautiful,” she whispers. 
𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦
・After giving his consent, Neteyam would smirk at the way your eyes narrow and light up. Especially at his queue and how the tendrils reach for something to latch onto
   “I wonder why Eywa chose to make you blue. You could have been purple, or maybe even green...” 
He chuckles and shakes his head, “what?”
・Thinks it’s funny and playfully bites your finger when you prod his fangs 
・Is a bit defensive/protective of his tail though, and you would have to ask his consent to play with it
・Starts to purr when you touch him. He starts doing it within seconds. You don’t say anything about it until he coughs, trying to disguise it 
・Scares you by suddenly moving his tail. You were so focused on being respectful that it made you jump. It made you laugh though, but sparked a million more questions about how tails work - 
    “So you can control it? What does it feel like? Is it considered another limb? Can you pick things up with it? Is it for balance?” 
・Does his best to answer your questions but he has to think deeply about it because it’s natural to him. 
・Tries to explain things by using your body as an example (but his sentence trails off because he gets lost in thought while staring at your body...)
𝐋𝐨'𝐚𝐤
・Is a bit shocked at your curiosity. These parts of him seem so normal, it’s your body that looks weird to him
・Mimics you when you start prodding and poking at different parts of his body
・While you trace his ears, he moves your hair to do the same. 
      “So round-” he murmurs. 
“So blue,” you retort. 
・Smirks, but is also deeply blushing whenever you mutter “wow”
・A lot of tail swishing when you’re looking at his fangs. He’s in a mixed mindset - embarrassment, excitement, eagerness ... 
・When you’re doing this investigation, you get him from standing to sitting (because he’s so tall). You grab onto his arm and pull him downward, so you’re eye to eye
・ You cock your head from side to side, looking at his facial features. Your fingers run from his forehead over his nose and down to his chin
・And Lo’ak is doing ALL HE CAN not to kiss you 
・Your sitting in between his legs, one hand is on your hip while you admire his other one
  “Your hand is nearly the size of my skull.”
・The interaction turns from playful to intimate. And you’re trying not to focus on Lo’ak’s roaming hand...
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eddaawrites · 8 months ago
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Stay over?
Tara yummy
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Summary- You and Tara have a sleepover and things escalate quickly
Warnings - Smut, cunnilingus, dom!reader, sub!tara.
Inspired by this request
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Getting into my car I back out of my driveway to go pick Tara up for our sleepover. It’d been a while since we’d hung out and I missed her so much. If I was being honest, I’ve had feelings for her for quite a while. And for good reason.
She’s one of the sweetest people I know, always putting others before herself. And the way she carries herself, like she’s the only person in the world. And don’t get me started on her looks, the woman is unconditionally and breathtakingly stunning.
The way her eyes shine in the light. Dark as the night sky, stars dancing on their surface.
The way her hair falls from her shoulders, so perfectly.
She’s everything I ever dreamed of and more.
So when I walk into her apartment after unlocking the door with my spare key, and see her dancing on the middle of the floor, swaying her hips to music playing on her tv while she packs her overnight bag. I fall into a trance. Time slows down and all that exists is her. Only her.
I zone out so hard that I don’t even register her walking towards me until I feel her arms around me, her fingers interlinking behind my neck.
It takes me a while to get my heart beating again, but when it does I wrap them around her waist, pulling her closer.
“Hey, angel” I say, pulling back to look at those eyes.
“Hi” she responds, and my knees almost buckle. Her voice in music to my ears.
“You ready to go?” I ask her, and she nods her head excitedly.
“Yeah, let’s go” she says as she grabs her bag and her keys and exits out the door.
Once we’re in the car I hand her the aux cord and she queues a couple songs. “McDonalds?” I ask although I already know the answer. “Duh” she replies.
A couple of minutes pass and I pull into the McDonald’s drive through. I don’t bother asking her what she wants since we go here so often that I’ve memorised her order.
When I’ve placed the order and driven to the next window I look over to her and see that she’s already looking at me. There’s something in her eyes, the way she’s looking at me, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it means.
“Are you okay?” “ I’m great” she replies. “Well I know that” I chuckle and she laughs.
God I love that sound.
“Thank you” she grins. I hadn’t realised I said it out loud. I feel my face start to heat up. She looks at me the way she did just a minute ago, what does it mean? A strand of hair fall onto her forehead and I feel myself reach for it, tucking it behind her ear, and letting my hand linger a bit longer than needed. And her cheeks glow a deep scarlet.
She’s so beautiful. Even when she’s not trying to be. She has me captivated by her beauty by merely existing. It’s astonishing.
She nuzzles her face into my hand and I gently stroke her cheek with my thumb.
The drive through window opens and a woman holding a paper bag speaks but her words don’t register. “Sorry?” I speak. “Here’s your order, have a nice evening.” “Right, you too” I take the bag out of her hands, roll the window up and drive.
The car ride to my place is weirdly silent, except for the music. She’s never this quiet. But I don’t get a chance to ask her why as I pull into the parking lot of my house and she practically runs in through the front door. I’m surprised there isn’t a cartoony Tara shaped hole in my door.
I follow after her with the paper bag. She’s already sitting on my couch, remote control in hand going through Disney+ looking for a movie to watch. Finally deciding on Lady and the Tramp.
I throw myself onto the couch placing the food between us and grabbing a blanket from the basket beside the couch and throwing it over both of our legs. We eat and watch the movie in silence, for the most part since Tara talks over the movie almost the whole time.
When the movie is finished she’s asleep with her hair in her face, so I brush it behind her ear and give her a light kiss on her forehead.
“You missed my lips by a long shot” she whispers. I chuckle “how very rude of me” “absolutely unacceptable” she looks up at me. “Well what do you suppose we do about that” she pauses for a second “I guess you’ll just have to give me two kisses to make up for it”. I smirk “Oh, yeah?” “Mhmm” she says as she leans in, her eyes darting to my lips. “Well if that’s the only way you’ll forgive me”.
Our lips meet in a slow and gentle manner. My hand glides up to her cheek, the other settling on her waist. She throws hers around my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair and I groan as she gives it a soft tug, my hand tightening around her waist.
I glide my tongue over her bottom lip beckoning her to open her lips, she does. It’s messy, the kiss filled with lust and passion as I pull her to sit on my lap.
I let my hands travel her body starting at her waist, down to her hips, to her ass giving it a quick squeeze, and up again to her upper back and then letting them fall to rest on her hips, guiding her to grind on my thigh. She does so and moans at the friction, the sound making my lower stomach warm and I moan into her mouth.
Her hands fall to the hem of my shirt tugging on it and I raise my arms as she pulls it over my head and throws it to the side and I do the same for her, taking her appearance in and looking up at her, pulling her into another kiss, this one gentle and caring. “So beautiful” I whisper against her lips.
My lips trail from the corner of her mouth, to her jaw, her neck and finally the edge of her bra. I look up at her and she nods. So i take her bra off, my mouth watering at the sight and I bring her left tit into my mouth grabbing the other one with my hand. She arches her back into me and throws her head back.
When I twist the peak between my index finger and thumb and gently nibble on the other one she lets out the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. “Oh fuck” she moans. She brings her hands to my belt buckle and looks down at me “please”. “Well since you asked so nicely”
I turn us over so she’s under me and kiss down her stomach. When I reach her pants I look up at her “are you sure?” To which she immediately responds to by nodding. “I need words, baby”. ”Yes, please. I need you”. “Atta girl” she responds by lifting her hips up for me to pull her pants down.
Once I’ve thrown them onto the ground with the rest of the clothes I lower myself so that I’m at eye level with her black lace thong. I wrap my arms around the backs of her thighs, pull her closer and kiss up the inside of her thighs slowly getting closer to where I want to be. I deliver a soft kiss to the wet spot on her panties and pull them down moaning at the sight.
“Jesus you’re soaked, is this all for me?” I breathe out. “All f’you” she moans. I slide a finger between her folds collecting her wetness, popping the finger into my mouth and rolling my eyes to the back of my head moaning at the taste. “God you taste so good, baby. You gonna let me have some more?” I ask. “Mhmm, can have as much as you want” she breathes out and I dive into her pussy, devouring her. Not letting a drop go to waste.
I suck her clit into my mouth, circling my tongue around it. Her back arches off the couch as she lets out a pornographic moan. “Fuck keep doing that”. She grinds her pussy on my face and I moan, the vibrations setting her own moans off.
I flip us over again so she’s sitting on my face and she instantly starts grinding down on my mouth. I slip my tongue into her pussy, and she grinds her clit on my nose. Her hands find my hair as her legs start shaking, her eyes rolling back and her head doing the same as she cums. Hard.
Once her moans die down I pull her off of me and place her down getting up and going to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean her up.
When I get back she’s half asleep so I try to be gentle so as to not wake her up. But when I accidentally touch her sensitive clit she hisses and clamps her legs shut. “Shh, I need to clean you up, baby”. She opens her legs again and lets me finish.
Once I’m done I grab us both some oversized T-shirts from my closet and put mine on, taking my pants off in the process and putting the second one on her. Then I lay down on the couch next to her pulling her back to my chest.
“Goodnight, Tara” I whisper in her ear before placing a kiss on the top of her head “Goodnight”
———————————————————————
A/n: Sorry this took so long I’ve been kinda out of it lately. And please be nice since this is the first time I’ve written smut. Love you guys!! ❤️
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago
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Roads Untraveled 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, pregnancy, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Single and pregnant, you discover a super soldier in the dumpster but he might not be hero you think he is. 
[This is a rewrite of a series of the same name which I removed a couple years ago]
Characters: Silverfox!Steve Rogers
Note: I finally did this.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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‘When he went away  The blues walked in and met me  Oh, yeah if he stays away  Old rocking chair’s gonna get me  All I do is pray...’ 
You sway to the melody as you wipe dry the last plate. You set it in the rack as Etta James’ soulful crooning wafts around the kitchen. Just the simple task of washing the dishes has you out of breath. You can no longer hum along as you’re suddenly light headed with sweat speckled across your brow. Even the breeze drifting in through the open window can’t cool the constant heat brewing within you. 
You brace your lower back as you reach for the dish towel and pop open the cupboard. The music drones to silence as the next some in queue loads. Your rounded stomach presses to the counter as you take a mug and dry it inside and out. Strange, you don’t remember the song starting like that; the strange warbling noise much unlike Marvin Gaye’s rich tones. 
You set the mug on the shelf and back up. Another noise peaks your attention, too tinny to be a snare. You rub your stomach mindlessly as you sling the cloth over your shoulder. You waddle across the tile to the folding table beneath the window. You tap pause on your phone and the bluetooth speaker goes silent. 
Your fingers pick the damp fabric away from your bump. These days you can’t avoid getting soaked. Even as you can’t forget about the burden of your condition, you’re still oblivious to how it gets in the way until it does. You sigh as you listen for another clue. 
A pained deep grunt floats up from below. Distant but decisive, another rustle beneath the unexpected noise. You lean over the table, a hand on the ledge as you push the pane higher. You bend, stomach pressed to the speaker, and peer down. You expect another dumpster diver searching for empties to trade in; rather you meet a most unexpected sight. 
There is a man in the dumpster, alright, but he isn’t moving. From there, you can’t see very clearly. You squint at the figure strewn among the trash but the zigzag of the fire escape obscures your eye line. 
You shouldn’t go and see. Not only is it a lot of effort, but it’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be wandering into alleys to check on strangers in dumpsters. You don’t know any good reason someone might be swimming in garbage. Nor do you think they would want to be bothered.  
Still, the prickling in your neck urges you to do something. There’s just something so peculiar about the angle of the arm you can see clearer than the rest of the body. At least they’re moving, even if they sound agonized. 
You take your phone and untether it from the bluetooth speaker. You unlock it and keep your thumb ready to dial out. You move as quickly as you can, not very, and waddles along the back of the couch into the entry way. You take your keys from the hook near your door and step into your cushy slides. 
You turn back the latch and leave the door unlocked behind you. The slides shift on your swollen feet as you rush down to the elevator. God, your back hurts. You try not to lean too far back as it only adds to the pain. You need a belly belt but they’re so darn expensive. 
You’re out of breath as you step on and turn to watch the numbers count down. You’re still panting as you reach the lobby and push through the front doors, leaning into the heavy grated iron until it creaks loudly. You clamour down the steps to even ground and your hips pang. 
You put your hand under your stomach, trying to lift it and ease the pressure in your hips. You blow out between your lips as you have to slow down. You shuffle across the grass and into the paved lobby. The stink of the trash brings you back to those early days of morning sickness. And afternoon sickness. And night sickness. 
You try not to inhale too deeply as you step between the brick buildings. You bring your phone up, ready to hit those three digits in a heartbeat. You should’ve done so already. Even if you do, it’ll take hours for anyone to come out here. 
You stop and listen a few steps from the dumpster. You don’t hear anything now. You look up at the sky, dimming towards evening in a mixture of pink and blue, the moon peeking palely through the hue. You grip your phone tight, keys jangling with your movement as you continue forward. 
“Hello?” You call out, “is someone in there?” You linger near the corner of the dumpster, the trash reeking in your nostrils, “do you need help?” 
No answer. You stare up, wondering how you might see inside. If you weren’t built like a keg, you might be able to see from the lower level of the fire escape but you can’t even make it one rung. You blink and call out again. 
“Hello? Are you okay?” 
You wait for a response. Silence again. Maybe they found their way out on their own. You huff. So much for all that. All you’ve done is added to the pain in your arches. You turn on your heel and a groan gurgles and plastic crinkles noisily. 
You stop again, wavering, and peer back over your shoulder. A hand appears over the tops of the dumpsters edge and grips it. You face the large metal bin as the knuckles strain within the stained brown leather, fingertips poking out nakedly, blood and dirty tinged across the flesh. A long grunt follows as the figure drags himself to look over the top. 
“Sir, are you--” you begin, voice catching at the sight of the cowl and the man’s square jaw. The white star on his chest stuns you. It’s him. Everyone knows that uniform, that face, even under his helmet. New York’s own Captain America. 
You gape as the super soldier strains and swings himself out of the dumpster with one arm. His other is hanging limply as his feet hit the pavement. His knees crack and buckle. He drops down onto them and hisses. 
“Captain America?” You utter dumbly. 
He puts his fist to the ground and leans on his arm. He hangs his head and heaves. He drags a leg forward, planting his foot, and makes himself stand. He pushes his shoulders back and winces, reaching to cradle his dangling arm. 
“Steve,” he rasps, “goddamn.” 
You don’t expect the obscenity. Not from him. He leans against the dumpster and turns his chin up. He gnashes his teeth as he grips his arm and jerks, moving the heavy bin with his effort. The pop of his shoulder is sickening as he growls tightly. He stomps his foot and as he shakes out the arm he just put back into place. 
He reaches up and peels off his cowl as he puts his head straight. He looks at you as he wipes the streak of blood from lip to chin. His blond locks are streaked silver and his face is lined. He looks much older than the magazine covers and the TV screens. The magic of editing, right? 
He swipes the sweaty hair from his forehead and huffs. 
“Steve,” you rest your phone on your stomach, “are you okay?” 
He pushes himself away from the dumpster and puffs, “I’m fine. Just... a hiccup.” 
You stare at him. He looks tired and worn. You believe him when he says he’s okay. He's a super soldier and the world has seen his many feats. Yet he looks completely hollow. 
“Are you sure? I could call someone or...” you step forward and point to the slash that borders chest and shoulder, “you should clean that out, shouldn’t you?” 
He looks down and grimaces, “had worse. I got comms. HQ doesn’t care about a few scratches.” 
He goes to step forward and stumbles slightly. He snarls and kicks his foot into the gravel. He wiggles his knee and bends to rub the joint. 
“I...” your mouth opens and closes. This isn’t the man you’ve seen in the media. He's not smiling and golden and shining. Still, he’s the Captain. “I live above,” you gesture upward, “I could help... or maybe you can just... sit for a little bit. Get yourself straight?” 
He looks at you. As if for the first time. His forehead smooths as the tension eases from his jaw. His gaze slowly crawls down to his stomach and you see the dimple in his cheek. 
“Your husband okay with that? I’m a bit of a mess,” his tone is lighter as he fixes his grip on his cowl. 
“Oh no, I don’t have--” you chew your lip and look at the brick wall, “it’s just me. But I have first aid kit and learned to stitch in summer camp. I think I can still remember how.” 
He glances around and nods, “got a back door?” 
“Yeah, it’s... past you,” you nod in his direction. 
He pivots stiffly and cranes to see around the dumpster. You near him and your keys jingle again. You follow him to the metal door with the glass window and you shove the key in and twist. You pull it open a few inches. It’s heavier than the front door. He grabs it and wrenches it all the way back. 
“Thanks,” you murmur. “There’s an elevator.” 
“Hm, fewer people see me, the better,” he sniffs as the door clanks behind him. 
“It might take me a while,” you warn, “I’m slow.” 
“What floor. I’ll meet you,” he offers. 
“Sure, it’s three.” 
“Number?” 
“310.” 
“I’ll find it,” he states and marches towards the stair sign. 
You go to catch the elevator, stewing in disbelief on your ascent. You step off and continue on to your apartment. He’s already there. He stands with his hand on the frame, looking over his shoulder as you waddle down the hall towards him. 
“It’s unlocked,” you say. 
He opens it and waits for you. You thank him as you enter and he follows. He locks it and lingers behind you. You put your hand to the wall as you slip off your slides. He gently lays his cowl on the corner table and bends to unlace his boots. You hang the keys on the hook and place your phone on the small table. 
He leaves his dirtied boots on the mat and limps forward. You stand in the open doorway of the living room and peek back at him. He looks around reluctantly. 
“Please, sit down,” you insist and wave through the doorway before you pass through. 
“I...” he begins and you hear his uneven gait down the hallway. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.” 
“I have a steam cleaner,” you assure. “Sit, I’ll get the kit.” 
He stares, his eyes once more scanning the space. Does he think this is a trip? That you’re some covert agent who all too conveniently found him? That’s absurd. Look at you. 
You shrug off that ridiculous idea and cross to the kitchen. You open several drawers before you remember it’s in the bathroom. Of course. Your brain likes to play games these days. You grab the metal tin from under the sink and return to Steve.  
He pulls off his gloves and balls them on the side table next to the couch. You come around the other side of the couch and sit, leaving lots of space between you. You squeeze the kits as you’re once more out of breath. 
“You okay?” He turns the question on you. 
“I’m not the one bleeding. Just pregnant,” you smile. 
You balance the kit on your stomach as you lean back. You sanitize a needle and weave it with surgical thread. You put that aside and fish out an alcoholic swap. You shift the kit aside and push on the back of the couch as you try to sit forward. You shake and he helps you, a humbling assistance. 
“First,” you turn to him, “we’ll see how deep it is,” you tear open the swap, “can I...” 
“One sec,” he dips his fingers into the fabric and tears the sleeve, renting the fabric like tissue. His arm is thick and well-toned despite the years. A centurion like him can’t complain for the shape he’s in, even battered. “I can do it myself.” 
“Yes, but it wouldn’t be easy.” 
You reach as he angles towards you. You gingerly dab around the gash and he tenses. He takes a sharp breath, “you don’t have to be so gentle. I can handle pain.” 
“Right,” you work more diligently. 
He’s quiet as you tend to him, picking out gravel and some metal slivers. You worry that you might miss some. You lean in closer and he steels himself at your proximity. 
“So,” he clears his throat, “just you and...” the kid?” 
“We all make mistakes,” you chuckle. You can only laugh about it, as scared as you are. 
“Mmm,” he flinches as you sweep down the length of the cut. It’s not that deep, mostly superficial. 
“Let me put some steri-strips on, shouldn’t need the stitches, ” you say as you sift through the kit with one hand, “if you’re hungry, I have leftovers. You like chicken?” 
You don’t know why you’re offering. Maybe it’s because you owe him. Like everyone in the city. It’s your chance to give back to the hero who gave so much. Or maybe it’s because you’re so damn lonely talking to your own stomach. 
“I should go,” he insists as you place a strip across the cut. 
“Up to you,” you say, “I don’t mind either way, but I’m not going to chase Captain America out of ym apartment.” 
He doesn’t say anything. You finish dressing his wound and gather up the wrappers and all. You crumple it in one hand and rock yourself to stand. You’re overly aware of him watching you. You touch your stomach and rub it, soothing your nerves. You find him watching the movement of your hand. 
“You must be pretty far along,” he says. 
“Six months. Chicken tortellini, if you want. I was gonna reheat some. I haven’t eaten since work.” 
“Work?” He frowns and stands, moving better than before. “Should you be?” 
“I’m at a desk. It’s nothing. HR got me some ergonomic stuff. Nothing compared to what you do.” 
You put away the kit and toss the garbage. You wash your hands before you search out the container of pasta in the fridges. You sense him behind you, just in the wide archway that peers into the kitchen. You reach into the cupboard you left open and take the single plate that isn’t in the rack. 
“So, you want some?” You ask. 
He’s silent with contemplation, the shift of his weight creaks in the floor, “I appreciate it, yes, please.” 
“I might have something you can change into,” you say. You wonder why you’re doing all this. Maybe it’s that maternal instinct kicking in. “The father, before he took off, left a few things.” You peek over your shoulder, “he was a bit smaller than you.” 
He shrugs then winces at the careless gesture. “Do you mind if I wash up before I eat? I smell like garbage. I don’t wanna overstep--” 
“Go ahead, it’ll take a while to warm this up,” you say. 
Another long lull. He taps his fingers on the wall and inhales deep enough for you to hear, “promise, I’ll get out of your hair after dinner.” 
“Please, take your time,” you say as you put the tortellini in a glass pan to rebake. He backs away and you sense his hesitation, “oh, down the hall, to the left of the bedroom at the end.” 
“Thanks,” he intones, “oh, uh, just realised, you know who I am...” 
Your brows pop up and you stop before you can put the pan in the stove. You look back at him and give your name. He nods. 
“Pretty,” he comments, “also, it’s just Steve, not Captain.” 
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soft-mafia · 1 year ago
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Jealous Boy [LA Buggy x Reader]
warnings: fem reader, oc insert, jealous Buggy, kind of possessive Buggy, making out, sexual tension, groping
a/n: Jeff Ward Buggy is literally my baby guys he’s my little scrumptious baby boy my little smoochie baby baby bear I love him so much I’m not normal. This isn’t as long as I wanted it to be but I thought it was fluffy and cute!
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It wasn’t like Buggy was angry that his circus actors were thriving.
This was probably the best rehearsal time they’ve ever had; no fuck ups, no one missed their queues, sure there were a few issues with the lighting but it was just small errors. What Buggy didn’t like was how much time Y/n was spending, fluttering around with his freaks, giving them her attention instead of giving it to him.
What set him off was when he was talking to one of his performers, the snake charmer that Y/n particularly spent the most time with with(mostly because the snakes had a habit with escaping their enclosures, but Buggy chose to see it in a different light), Buggy was explaining his entrance to him, until he interrupted him.
“Oh don’t worry captain, Y/n already told me last night.”
Last night? What was Y/n doing talking to him during the night? He had to think back. She didn’t come to bed late, she woke up next to him the other morning.. when did she have time to talk to him? “What?” Buggy responded, blinking harshly for a second, looking down at the man.
The snake charmer looked up at the captain with a confused expression, “Right when we were putting away all the equipment.. before closing for the night.” He responded.
Buggy’s jaw clenched, while the man’s response did seem genuine, Buggy couldn’t help but feel an angry feeling deep inside of him. The simple thought of Y/n talking to somebody while he wasn’t there, bothered him. What else did they talk about? Was that it?
“Did she say anything else?” Buggy asked in a flat, blank tone, the kind of tone he would always use when he was about to snap. The snake charmer recognized that tone, “Uh-.. no. No captain, that was it.” He gulped. “Ok. Get out of my sight.” Buggy grunted before turning away, waving the man off as his jacket and hair swished as he turned.
“Y/N!!” Buggy shouted, storming through the ship until he found her. The girl quickly stood up from what she was doing, turning her head to look back at Buggy while holding a crate, “What?”
“Put down the box.” Buggy said, then motioned her to come to him, to which she did. He seemed angry, which wasn’t unusual, someone probably messed up a queue or something and he was here to chew her out about it, “What happened?” Y/n looked up at him, her hands in her pockets. Buggy couldn’t help but look down, looking at her hips in those low rise jeans— his crew members got to see them too, which made him even more upset. “About the snake charmer.. you were talking to him last night, weren’t you?” Buggy asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Y/n shrugged, “Yeah.. just about his entrance, why? Did he mess it up or something?”
“Is that all you talked about?” His eyes narrowed at her, his body blocked the light coming in from the doorway, which casted a shadow over her. Y/n looked up at Buggy, confused for a moment, until she realized what was wrong; he was jealous. She let her arms hang to her side as she stepped closer to him, “Captain, you don’t have to be jealous, it’s ok.” She reached her hand up to hold the side of his face before he (quite rudely) slapped it away. “I’M NOT JEALOUS!” He barked before walking past her, then turning back around to look at her again, “You’ve been spending all of your time messing with those idiots out there when I’M the one who needs your attention!!”
“Buggy you told me to help them.” Y/n crossed her arms and tilted her hip to the side. “I told you to help them!! Not-.. “buddy up” with them!!” Buggy snapped back at her, “They think they can just come to you any time they want!” He began to pace, “That they can just speak to you when I’m not around and take your time away from me!! Do you know how sneaky that is?”
Y/n stepped closer to him again and grabbed him by the shoulder, making him pause, “Buggy.” She reached her hand up to cup his stubbled jaw, gently grazing her thumb against his cheek. He looked so adorable, his brows furrowed, jaw clenched, an angry look in his eyes, “I love you, Buggy. And if it really makes you that upset, I promise to spend the entire day with you, just you.” She whispered, then got on her tippy toes to kiss him on the lips, tilting her head so she wouldn’t bump into his nose and make him even more grumpy.
Buggy groaned softly into the kiss, his hands making their way down to her hips, gloved fingers pressing into her skin. Their lips molded against each others, he sucked on her bottom lip, then her top before letting his tongue slip into her mouth. His hands moved back to rest on her ass, one hand slipping into her back pocket. “You’re mine, you know that.” He whispered into the kiss, eyes opening slightly to look at her as his other hand went up to hold her cheek.
Her chest was against his, he loved the feeling of her on his body, holding her in his strong arms. He held the back of her head, gently gripping her hair.
“I know, Captain.” Y/n whispered back at him, kissing him on his bottom lip before pulling back, she cupped his face and looked into his enchanting green eyes, then gave him another small peck on the lips.
She pulled away and walked off, “C’mon, you can help me with rehearsal so I can watch you yell at everyone!” She giggled while looking back at him. Buggy smirked and caught up with her, giving her a squeeze on the ass once he caught up to her, “I don’t yell at people.” He scoffed, then grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
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