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celestemona · 10 months ago

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⋆˙⟡ — FOUR TIMES MUALANI SUSPECTED SOMETHING WAS GOING ON (AND ONE TIME SHE WAS RIGHT)

pairing: kinich x reader

cw: no pronouns mentioned. ajaw is in a vacation. slight but not slight pda. mualani overreacting but she is a sweet. best friends trio. pyro vision reader mentioned. not beta-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Mualani knew Kinich and you were friends—close best friends, just like you two were with her—but lately, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

It started with little things, almost too subtle to be noticeable but somehow it didn’t escape from her perception. Things like how Kinich, ever the quiet guy, had begun lingering a little too long when he talked to you, or how you’d run all your way to the Scions of the Canopy's village just to welcome him back after a mission.

At first, she didn’t pay too much attention thinking you guys were just being more affectionative and caring to each other. However, as time passed by, it has been shown to be more than a mutual friendly appreciation and certainly beyond a mere coincidence.

The first time Mualani noticed something different was in an early morning by the coast, watching the waves curl and crash. She often started her day stretching at the shore and riding the first waves of dawn. But this time, as she rounded a cliff, she spotted Kinich and you sitting on a rock overlooking the sea. The two of you were close enough that your arms brushed every time the wind picked up.

Kinich’s usual stern expression was softer than usual. Mualani squinted at you suspiciously. Were you... holding hands?

She jogged closer, but just as she got near enough to say something, Kinich quickly stood up, putting a considerable distance between you and himself. “You're up early,” he said, his voice in its usual calm.

You smiled warmly. “Hey girl! How are the waves? We were just discussing about it.”

Mualani tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “You were? Really?”

You let out a light and confusing laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course.”

She didn’t quite buy it, but you didn’t give her any reason to push further. “Well, the waves are good today! You guys joining?”

Kinich only gave her a polite headshaking, while you nodded smiling. Maybe she was imagining things.

II.

Except she wasn’t.

A few days later, you were hanging out by Tequemecan Valley' canyons with Kinich standing quietly while you and Mualani chatted. However, every time she glanced toward him, Kinich seemed to be watching you a little too intently. It wasn’t the usual hunter’s focus; it was softer, caring, almost like... adoring.

The girl squinted, pretending to be interested in some flowers nearby while keeping an eye on you two. You didn’t seem to notice anything, or if did, you didn’t mind. You just kept talking, your laughter filling the air.

When Mualani caught Kinich staring again, she couldn’t help but ask, “Kinich, you okay? You’ve been zoning out all day.”

He blinked, his neutral mask slipping back into place. “I’m fine.”

“He’s just tired from all the training,” you teased, winking at him.

Mualani raised an eyebrow, astonished by the scene before her eyes. Something was definitely going on.

III.

The third time came on a day when Mualani was guiding a group of Sumeru’s travelers near the springs when she spotted you and Kinich again, standing by the water. As she approached, she saw Kinich leaning down to whisper something to you, his lips close to your ear. You giggled softly in response.

Wait a minute... Kinich never whispers to anyone. Much less in such an intimate way and even less to make someone laugh. Mualani's instincts flared up immediately. What was he saying? And why did you look so happy about it?

She cleared her throat loudly as she walked up. “Hey. What are you two whispering about?”

Kinich straightened up quickly, crossing his arms. “Nothing important.”

You smiled at her, but there was a glimmer in your eyes that made the girl even more suspicious. “Just a silly joke,” you said lightly.

A joke, huh? Mualani filed it away in her mind. This time she was very determined to figure out what was going on between you two.

IV.

It was late afternoon, and Mualani had just finished surfing when she saw you two by the waterside. Kinich and you stood close, so close as it has strangely been, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn Kinich was about to lean in and kiss you.

She froze, watching from a distance as you smiled up at him, your palm softly pushing his chest away. Were you two really about to kiss? It couldn’t be just her angle view. Could it be?

But just as quickly as it happened, Kinich stepped back, his usual stoic demeanor falling back into place. You turned and waved at her, your smile as bright as ever.

“Lani. Hey! How was the surf?” you called out.

Mualani, still in shock, shook her head. “Uh... good. Really good.”

She stared at you both for a moment longer, convinced she’d almost witnessed something, but there was no proof. Again.

In the several days that followed, Mualani continued to witness that strangeness that kept repeating itself every time you thought she wasn’t around, creating a certain tension between her and you and Kinich—although she doubted that you had noticed any difference, treating her as you always did from the beginning.

Even if it relieved her to know that nothing had changed in your friendship, the surfer couldn't help but feel upset too. Was it that bad if she found out? Didn't you trust her the same way she trusted you? She wanted to be able to release all of her thoughts and ask you if maybe there was something in your bond that was bothering you. But she didn't. And so, things remained the same.

That was a quiet evening, and the moon hung low over the mountains. Mualani had been taking a stroll, enjoying the peaceful night, when she stumbled upon you.

This time, though, there was no mistaking it—Kinich and you stood together under some trees, locked in a slow, deep kiss.

The girl’s cheeks burned as red as the pyro vision you hold so dear closely, eyes widely opening and heart skipping a beat. She gasped, louder than she intended, and both of you quickly turned toward her. You blinked twice before smiling stiffly, even daring to look a bit embarrassed, while Kinich gave her a calm look, his hands still resting on your waist.

“You two!” She exclaimed shaking her head, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier! I mean, I knew something was up, but really?”

You bit your lip while Kinich just blinked at her, slightly starting to look more guilty as well.

“We didn’t mean to keep it from you for long,” you said as you stepped out of Kinich’s arms and reached for her hand. “We were just... taking our time.”

Mualani arched an eyebrow. “Taking your time? You two were being so weird and annoying with all those suspicious interactions for weeks now! I’m supposed to be your best friend!”

Kinich rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “We wanted to keep it quiet,” he said, his voice low. “At first, anyway.”

Mualani softened, her fake scold melting away into genuine affection. “Still, I would’ve loved to know sooner,” she said, her tone gentler now. “You know me better than anyone else. You know I would never judge you,” she sighed as she watches the sorrow on your face. “Nevertheless, I’m really happy for you both. Really am.”

You beamed and even Kinich’s usual stoic expression seemed to relax slightly.

Mualani continued, her voice full of warmth. “I’ve always known you two had something special. And now that I know for sure, you better believe I’m fully on board with this!” She shot Kinich a playful look. “Just make sure you treat (Y/N) right, okay?”

Kinich nodded, his eyes softening as he glanced at you. “I will.”

You squeezed Mualani’s hand, your eyes sparkling with gratitude and pure happiness. “Thank you, Lani. Your support means a lot to us.”

Mualani grinned, pulling you both into a tight hug. “Just don’t keep secrets from me again, alright? I’m always here for you two.”

You all laughed but shared a quick but sweet bond moment, the atmosphere light and easy. And somehow, Mualani couldn’t help but feel like everything had fallen into place just the way it was meant to.

“But just for your information. If the day comes of you get engaged and don’t tell me immediately, I’ll crash the proposal myself, make a huge scene, and tell everyone how long I’ve had to put up with your not so secret glances and not so subtle hand-holding. Trust me, it won’t be pretty!”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kinich #kinich x reader #mualani

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sillyswriting · 5 months ago

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: ̗̀➛ ex-friend with benefits simon 'ghost' riley & friend with benefits johnny 'soap' mactavish - 02

cw : sexual theme, public sex, voyeurism

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ collection - prev ⋆ next

it was so easy with johnny. it made you question why you had even been with simon in the first place. you still hadn't defined your relationship, but it didn't matter. mostly because it was just so easy. and also because johnny didn't treat you like a secret. he paraded around base holding your hand, without a hint of shame in his body.

he would kiss you on the tarmac before leaving on a mission and straight up made out with you in the med bay when he got back. all the nurses were betting on when he'd finally ask you to make it official.

johnny's team was the same-well, all except simon. simon still had no idea that johnny knew about your old relationship. though, if anything, it had been more of a situationship. which meant that every time johnny showed you off around the team, both you and simon still thought it was just genuine innocence. you'd meet simon's gaze, your cheeks turning red from slight embarrassment. but then you remembered-he never showed you off like that. you had no reason to feel embarrassed about johnny being proud of being with you.

johnny was also a little shit. he liked you-a lot-but the look he saw on simon's face every time he saw you two together was so satisfying to him. it triggered something primal in him, a possessiveness he hadn't realized was buried inside him. but you didn't seem to mind. you didn't push his hands away, didn't refuse his kisses, didn't lecture him over his excessive pda when he put you on his lap. you basked in his tenderness, and he loved it.

you were so different from what he was used to. usually, his partners would eventually push him away, saying he was too physical. but that was how he expressed his feelings—through touch. seeing how you thrived in his arms, on his lap, made him think you might be the one.

he even had the courage to ask you to go home with him on one of your mutual leaves. and you had accepted. you only had a week together, but johnny made that week matter. he showed you around edinburgh—his favorite places, pubs, cafes, restaurants, museums. he was so happy to share parts of his life with you. and he had fucked you good, in his bed. where you belonged.

one night, as you slept in his arms, he realized this wasn't just a fleeting moment—this was his normality. he wanted you in his life, for good. coming home from deployment to you cooking in his kitchen, swollen with his child. yes, he wanted that.

it had been torture when johnny talked about his little vacation with the cute medic after he got back to base. simon had realized pretty early that he had fucked up with you, but johnny wouldn't stop talking about you. and soap was miserable when you were away. he kept bringing you up, and it drove simon crazy. with how things were going with johnny, he knew he had missed his chance anyway.

when you came back to base, johnny was all over you. it wasn't even about simon anymore—his love for you was genuine. the time you spent together in scotland had made that clear. simon's anger and frustration were just a bonus now.

and right now, you were having a really shitty day. most of the soldiers coming to the med bay were either rude or flirty. it pissed you off—you hated how they always hit on your nurses but never followed through. all they were going to get was bad sex and a broken heart. your nurses were sweet souls; they deserved better. someone like johnny. so, as you finally got your break, you made your way to the training center, where johnny would be at this hour.

you were surprised to see it this empty. johnny was here, along with a couple of soldiers, but it wasn't as packed as you had expected. the moment you set foot in the gym, johnny locked eyes on you, like he had sensed you. happy but confused to see you, he made his way toward you, firing off a million questions. you reassured him that you were okay, that you just wanted to see him—to get away from the med bay.

you had the bad idea of telling him you needed to clear your mind, a distraction.

now you were against a secluded wall, in johnny's arms while he thrusted into you, groaning in your ear while you moaned in his, quietly. you knew you should have told him no, but he had looked so good, a bit sweaty, and you couldn't resist him. and he had been right—this was a good distraction. you had only accepted because he had taken you to a very isolated place, far from the main room.

johnny had a way with your body; he made you feel good without even trying that hard. he listened. he had come to know what triggered your pleasure, all the little things that made you fall over. he loved the noises you made—it was music to his ears. he wished he could record you. maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him? he was already thinking about the lonely nights on deployments. you were his good girl, of course you were going to let him record you. he couldn't wait.

in your moment of bliss, you didn't know you were not alone. in a corner, simon was watching. he hadn't meant to—after all, you were having public sex in a gym. he had stumbled upon the scene, and weirdly, he couldn't look away. you were mesmerizing, but he already knew that. what was new was the feeling that hit him upon hearing johnny's groans. simon didn't know where it came from, but he couldn't ignore it.

the scene in front of him was filthy and pure at the same time. something in the way your bodies synchronized made him realize he had never had that with you. you had something truly genuine with johnny, something simon wouldn't have been able to give you.

as he was about to finally turn around, his trousers uncomfortably tight, he knew he needed to be alone. but before he could leave, he was met with johnny's knowing gaze. the little bastard was smirking?

"regrettin' whit ye lost, L.T.?" johnny said, keeping his eyes on simon, not stopping. that made you turn your head, meeting simon's gaze. you tried to stop johnny, to get off him, but he wasn't having any of it. if anything, his thrusts became erratic, his grip on your hips bruising. "naethin' he. has nae seen afore, bonnie, dinnae be shy now."

simon and you were frozen. you both had been so sure johnny didn't know about what you used to be. you watched as he tsked, shaking his head, as if reprimanding a little child. the hand that wasn't holding your thigh around his hips made its way to your neck, turning your head back to simon.

"nah, bonnie lass. let him hear whit he tried tae smother all thae times". johnny said gently, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck. a kiss that turned into a bite when you didn't listen to him.

johnny had a way with his dirty words that put you in a trance, and you just obeyed, not caring to quiet yourself down anymore. you were rewarded with a "g𝘰𝘰d g𝘪𝘳𝘭" and a sweet kiss on your neck, right where he had bitten you.

at that very moment, you didn't have it in you to care how this would change everything. and as you watched simon's hand disappear into his trousers, you realized maybe this was a good thing. what was the saying again?

he who dares, wins.

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bernardsbendystraws · 5 months ago

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𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 — 𝐌.𝐒.

Synopsis: Cute moments on stream with you and your boyfriend, Matt.

Warnings: Fluff, PDA, established relationship, Matt being bf as fuck.

A/N: Based on this request

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

00: Streaming…

It was such an intimidating thing to you, thousands of people watching, analyzing your every move. What if you said the wrong thing? What if you just got too overwhelmed and wanted to leave?

Matt was the biggest sweetheart. It took months for you to get comfortable with the idea and he was okay with that, he was just so excited to make the step, build memories on camera with his fans…

01: Getting comfortable…

It was like highschool all over again, the one thing you fucking despised - icebreakers.

The camera was already going. Matt had reassured you that you could tap out at any moment with a simple tug to your ear. You were fine, it was all gonna be fine. But, you couldn’t help but rub your clammy hands together, shifting your weight on the flimsy plastic chair.

“C’mon,” Matt encourages.

The sweet tone of his voice soothes a bit of your nerves. He’s right here, there’s no reason to freak out. If anything, you were honestly excited. You felt warm. Being able to trust someone so much was just so… comforting.

You move into the camera view. Matt helps introduce you while fans spit out a couple questions. It’s really not that bad, you kinda like it, the excitement and new energy feeling refreshing.

“-and sometimes when I take her back home to Boston with me, she pays more attention to Trevour! My fuckin’ dog-”

Matt’s loud voice gets quieter as he sees you shift again in the chair. He knows it’s not the most comfortable, but you don’t know how to work all the controls and he’s not sure you would want to be front and center. Tugging on his ear and staring at you intently, he waits for your response. Did you not feel comfortable anymore? Did you need the stream to be over?

You see his hand press on a button, the chat flooding with comments how they can’t hear anything anymore. “What’s up, sweetheart? Do you wanna be done?” he asks, his hand rubbing on your knee gently.

“No, no,” you rush, staring down at his hand as you readjust yet again, “-just…this chair - hurts my ass.”

Matt snickers at your comment. “Do you wanna switch?” he offers.

“No, I feel like I’ll fuck up the set-up somehow,” you sigh.

He nods understandingly, his mind twisting with ideas as his eyes light up with a realization. “Wanna sit in my lap?”

You feel a blush crawl on your face. The chat was being nice, you couldn’t see an issue with the offer, so why not?

Matt smiles as he sees you slightly nod your head. He shifts himself, patting on his leg with a reassuring hand crawling around the back of your thigh and helping you get comfortable on his lap. “There we go,” he husks, rubbing the sides of your thighs before unmuting the mic.

At least you’re comfortable.

02: Cuddling…

You had streamed a couple times with Matt. Honestly, you loved it, it was fun, but neither of you were in the mood right now. Chris was. He was using Matt’s setup and playing Duo’s with Nick.

“Fuckin’ - Nick, move your ass!” Chris seethes, biting into his lip with concentration. A slight tap on his shoulder makes his attention budge, he looks up to see Matt staring down at him with lazy eyes.

“We’re gonna lay down, but can you wrap it up soon? Just gettin’ tired,” he explains, yawning as he feels your head rest on top of his shoulder from behind.

Chris nods, trying to whisper-yell as the two of you get comfortable. Usually, PDA isn’t your thing, but both of you are just too tired to care, cuddling up as you pull Matt’s into your arms, cradling his face into your breasts while slinging your leg over his waist and playing with his hair.

The chat is going insane, fawning over the cute display instead of giving Chris’s poor gaming skills any attention. Your eyes feel heavy, only drooping more and more each second. Matt’s snoring is quiet. The subtle notion of his hands clutching onto you in his sleep makes you wave in and out of consciousness until everything fades into a dream.

Chris finally wins. Happily, he looks over to the chat, only to see them freaking out over the scene behind him.

Scoffing, he looks over his shoulder with a jokingly disgusted facial expression, “It’s not that cute. I do that with Nick all the time guys.”

03: Love - Hate Relationship…

Matt hates sharing your attention sometimes. He loves seeing you be a part of his life, but something about tonight had just irked him immensely. You were laughing at the chat more than you were laughing at him and that put a sour pout on his face as he kept getting grumpier.

The ‘Mattitude’ was definitely showing. You couldn’t help but laugh and that was only making his frown deepen.

“You’re so mean,” he whispers, his forehead resting against the back of your shoulder as you sit in his lap - a regular occurrence that the fans absolutely adore being able to see.

Your body racks with laughter. Matt peeks over your shoulder to see you typing back in the chat, his jaw dropping with offense as he sees you figuring out the controls - unbanning the word ‘Mattitude.’

“Hey!” he exclaims, hugging your arms as he peels you away from the keyboard. “Alright, that’s it - streams over,” he announces, seemingly even more upset.

But, Matt’s smile betrays him. The slight curl of his lips is apparent as he reaches to hit ‘End Stream’ - your contagious giggles making it impossible for him to stay mad at all.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he says, cradling you in his lap like a baby, staring down at your face as he dips his head down to trace the tip of your nose with his.

“Are you mad?” you ask, brushing your hand over his jaw as you feel the light scruff of his beard.

Matt shakes his head, his lips starting to peck all over your face. It’s so warm - it’s so soft.

“Never,” he whispers, smiling against your cheek as he lazily kisses the corner of your mouth.

It’s absolutely adorable, a sight so full of love that it’s sickeningly sweet.

At least that’s what the stream thinks.

Thank god he accidentally missed the button. Now, you can relive the moment over and over and over again.

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biteyoubiteme · 9 months ago

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blue raspberry flavored

soobin x fem!reader

synopsis: he’s so cute when he asks, he’s even cuter when he doesn’t

warnings: 🔞!!! breeding kink, baby trapper, dubcon/manipulation, nipple/breast play, use of teeth, marking, no protection, creampie, talk of pregnancy, soobin calls reader bunny a few times prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.5k

an: don't know how this one will go over but hope you guys like it feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the other fics here [dumdum m.list]

Soobin was never really forgetful of anything. He never forgot your birthday, missed an anniversary, messed up on your coffee order, he never even had to write down what he needed when he went grocery shopping. But bringing a condom always seemed to slip his mind.

At first it was easy to write off in the beginning of your relationship, every time the two of you got closer to having sex and not just messy make outs every pouty ‘its okay ill just pull out’ sounded more and more appealing. But you bought a box of condoms for your apartment and didn't realize the way his jaw clicked at the sight of them.

Soon after soobin was suddenly into pda. Purposefully teasing you out in public, hand slipping up your thigh under the table at a friends house, pulling you into heady kisses out at events, pushing you into bathroom stalls to try and undress you. You didn't make the connection until later that he was avoiding taking you home. ‘I just can't wait i need you right now,’

He knew exactly what to say for you to fold, slowly chipping away at the idea that the two of you even needed protection at all. It was so easy for you to remember when in your own bed, the nightstand right there. But in the back of the car with his lips all over you, hands kneading your thighs, pushing your knees apart; you let so much slide. Mumblings for him to pull out lost between moans. Where was he supposed to cum in the car anyways? He’d hate to ruin the interior or your pretty skirt.

In the beginning it wasn't so bad, soobin could restrain himself. If you two didn't use a condom he would make sure to pull out and if you did use one he was easy to comply. But it only took one time and it was an accident, a real accident where he didn't pull out fast enough. It was in the mix of his fucked out apology that he realized he wasnt sorry at all, not when he was watching the way your abused cunt was pushing out his cum and all he could really think about was going right back in for more.

post nut he was a bit ashamed but as soon as he thought about it for long enough he had his hand down his pants begging in an empty room to get you pregnant. And when you're ovulating it's only worse. Not only does he know it would be so easy to knock you up but it's like you're beckoning him to do it. Your hands squeezing your boobs, pushing up your bra while you're watching movies together. “Ugh im so sore,” the pout on your lips instantly makes him hard. His imagination taking over thinking about just how big they would get if he did get you pregnant.

And when you wear that tiny little tank top he is insatiable. Nipples peeking through the thin fabric as you lay against the pillows on the bed. You didn't even notice that soobin is paying no attention to the tv, his eyes watching the way your chest rises and falls. Adjusting in his seat to not make it too obvious he was already leaking in his sweatpants. Only it does the exact opposite, your eyes drawn to the bulge outlined in the gray fabric.

“Need help there?” it's the slight invitation he needs to roll over on top of you, lips working down your throat, hips rutting against yours.

“Please bunny, i need you,” he begs as you run your fingers through his hair pushing the strands behind his ears. Pleading brown eyes working on you instantly, he was always so desperate to have you and he knew it always made him get what he wanted.

He tugs down your tank top far enough for your boobs to spill out, hands reaching up to cup them both, thumbs sliding over your skin as he groans. “Look at your pretty nipples,” he squeezes his hands, pushing them together to watch the way your cleavage deepens.

You whine softly, “gentle i'm still tender,” the reminder only adding to his want, mouth coming down to suck on your nipple, your moan going straight to his aching cock.

Kneading the handfuls he has of your breasts, your back arches, lips popping off obscenely from one nipple only to capture the next. He's rough as he massages, your nails scratching along his scalp, his moans reverberating through your chest as he swirls his tongue over the hard bud.

He's humping you like you don't have layers of clothes separating you two, every slow drag of his hips pressing his hardness right against your clit, his teeth softly biting at your nipple tugging to watch how you react. Soobin knows that getting you off at least once before actually fucking you led to your inhibitions being weakned enough to forget about the condom all together. His hand slipped down between you two, pushing past your waistband to rub on your clit.

Lips coated in his spit he starts sucking marks along your chest, watching the way your head rolls back, fingers sliding through your slick as your hips buck up into his hand. He knows your body well enough to see the first orgasm coming, relishing in the way you tremble against him. With no time to let you ride out your high he's pulling down your shorts and panties, kicking off his sweats using all your wetness to lube up his cock.

But even in your haze you reach out beside you fumbling for the drawer to the nightstand pulling out the little shiny packet. You don't even see the disappointment on his face as you rip open the packet helping to slide the condom on him.

And he wants to be good, truly, only when he slowly pushes in he cant think about anything else except fucking you hard enough the condom breaks, neither of you knowing until its too late, until all his cum is spilling out of you. It’s that thought alone that makes him pull all the way out, his fingers slipping along the condom as he tugs it off. “What-”

“It's okay,” he mutters, tossing the condom to the pile of your clothes on the floor. “I need to feel all of you please,” and he tries to kiss away the worry on your mouth, and you shake your head.

“No you need another one we have extra in the nightstand,” but he's already prodding your entrance, tip slipping in as he begs, "I'll just pull out I promise, please, please,"

You don't even get to respond before his hips slam into yours, fully seating himself inside you, promptly shutting up anything else you could say. Even if after the two of you were done you were upset it's not like you would leave him would you? Not if he got you pregnant, the two of you were ready, and he'd take such good care of you. “Fuck,” his drawn out moan pressed right into your neck as he bullies his cock into you, “you feel amazing bunny,”

You're clinging to him, moans mixing with the obscene wet sounds coming from between you two. “Soobin s-slow down,” but you're not sure you want him to, not when he's hitting just the perfect spot inside of you, pressed so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“No,” he pants pulling you closer, “im going to stuff you full of my fucking cum, we will stay here all night if we have to,” your clenching gummy walls aiding him on. “Don't you want my baby?”

You can't even think straight let alone answer his question, his long fingers moving to work on your clit, “you'd be so pretty full of me, my cum, my baby, everyone would know youre all mine,”

The room is full of your desperate moans, your legs wrapping around him as if you could pull him any closer. “You like that idea huh?”

“Y-yes,” you're practically crying, tears welling up in your eyes, “i want it, please,”

That alone makes soobins balls tighten, cock jerking inside you before he spills the biggest load he's ever had inside you. He presses his hips against yours making sure you're flush together as you cum, fluttering walls sucking him in deeper milking him dry of all he has. He takes your hand in his lowering it to press over your pelvis, pressing it down enough to make you moan, “i don't think once will do it,” deep slow thrusts pushing his cum further in making you dizzy, “but you did such a good job im sure you can handle the rest,"

a very special thank you to @aduh0308 and @chyuuiung for beta/proof reading this for me ily you're the best

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572  @tomorrowxforever @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553  @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5  @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae

#soobin x reader #soobin smut #soobin txt #txt soobin #choi soobin #choi soobin x reader #txt x reader #txt smut #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #hueningkai #kpop smut #kinktober

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mossangelll · 6 months ago

Note

So hear me out….pregnant reader with Sevika’s kid. Sevika doting on reader. Bring home a weird craving reader has been having and talking to the baby telling them how excited she is to finally meet them.

I need fluff, I need pregnancy, I need it to be hers naturally.

Thank yooooooooou!

this is so cute i loved writing it! i just know sevika would be a great parent ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

sevika x pregnant reader headcanons

cw: pregnancy, slight innuendos, mentions of violence, veryyyy slight angst at the start

sevika never saw herself being a parent; not because she doesn’t like kids, it’s the complete opposite - she adores them

she felt it was selfish to want to bring a child into a fucked up world like zaun, full of hardship and uncertain futures

but then one night you tearfully turn to sevika in bed and her mind immediately goes into overdrive, are you hurt? is someone threatening you?

“sevika…i’m pregnant.”

you’re both sent into a still silence, unable to see each other but somehow feeling each other’s shock that much more

you’re worried that she’s upset or even mad at you, you know how she feels about having kids, until she’s gripping onto you with all her might, body shuddering from the force of her tears

sevika spoons you to sleep but she can’t fall asleep since her mind is racing about what this means for the future

she is overjoyed to say the least, albeit worried

from that moment on she dotes on you even more than she ever did, saying she needs to “look after my two favourite people.”

she rarely enjoyed pda but now you’re pregnant with her child, she can’t keep her hands off you - she needs to let everyone know that she’s completely smitten with you and the baby

sevika is constantly rubbing her hands on your baby bump wherever you go - just the sight of you and the baby calms her down

however she’ll only talk to the baby when you’re at home all safe and sound because this is when she admits her innermost fears

you stroke her soft hair as she whispers to the bump about how she’s scared she won’t be able to protect you both; after all, sevika works for the biggest crime lord in zaun and a child only provides more ammunition for enemies to utilise

sevika is also concerned about not being a good enough parent to the child but when you look at her building a crib from scratch, concentration furrowing her dark brows, with buckets of paint surrounding her from all the swatches you requested, you know that her worries couldn’t be further from the truth

every morning and every night, without fail, she kisses your forehead and baby bump as she rambles to you both about how excited she is for the completion of your little family

she dotes on you so much!

if you have a weird craving like pickle juice with sparkling water she’s forcing chuck to drop all his orders and make yours stat

if you’re craving some obscure dish that really shouldn’t exist sevika isn’t even going to question it

she’s in the kitchen whipping it up for you as you’re sat on the counter, humming as she prepares your meal

she does that thing where she puts the plate just in your reach but yanks it back again, laughing at how petulant you get

“what, you’re not gonna kiss the chef first?”

she gives it to you eventually, she could never make you wait for too long, and watches on with a goofy little smile and your lipstick marks all over her face as you contentedly eat the downright atrocious meal she made with love

sevika is always with you; call her overprotective or clingy she doesn’t care, she just doesn’t want to risk anybody hurting you or the baby

you basically get scary dog privileges everywhere you go

if your pregnancy hormones say the annoying store clerk that spoke to you in a condescending tone needs to die then sevika is on it right away

ok not really, she talks you down from your moments of bloodlust but she will deal with anyone that is rude to you

“you think i’m gonna let you get away with being an asshole to my dove, huh?”

lowkey shocked (and equal parts turned on) at how cranky your raging hormones make you 😭

sevika is incredibly attracted to you and your changing body even though you get insecure that she won’t like you anymore because of it

she takes her precious time every day just kissing the new stretch marks that appear and massaging your swollen ankles

you spend your date nights talking about baby names and you two even draw what you think the baby will look like

her drawing mainly consists of your features

your drawing mainly consists of her features

you two are so down bad for each other it’s sickening

silco has to force sevika to take more time off; she’s loyal and deserves to have more downtime with you as you prepare for your baby

he understands what it’s like to have a kid, how stressful it can be so he wants his dearest friend to enjoy the moment as much as possible

speaking of silco, he helps sevika host a surprise baby shower at the last drop and an insane amount of people turn up

you cry when you realise how loved and respected you are in the community

everyone is having the time of their lives playing games like blind diaper changing, who knows mum/dad the best, guess the baby, etc.

no gender reveal though she’s traditional in that regard and wants to wait until the baby’s born to find out

jinx is also very excited about the new arrival in the family

yes, she considers you and sevika to be part of her family and it’s very cute

she gets to be an auntie!

jinx spends all her free time making all sorts of toys out of softer materials because she’s considerate (also sevika warned her not to use scrap metal, or implement sharp edges, or even add teeny tiny smoke bombs - jinx scrapped all of her designs and had to start from scratch), for your baby with her signature graffiti of course

her and sevika probably work together to make some of the furniture for the baby’s room

sevika is very proud when people ask to feel bump

“yeah, this is our kid.” smug grin plastered onto her face and a strong arm wrapped around your midsection

you can’t help but roll your eyes when she does this because at this point who doesn’t know it’s your kid - she spends all day talking about it 😭

all in all sevika is honestly the best mother and wife you could ask for <3

masterlist

#sevika x reader #sevika #arcane #arcane headcanon #sevika fluff #fluff #jinx #silco #pregnant reader #sevika headcanon #request #arcane request #arcane fluff

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redr0sewrites · 1 year ago

Note

Viktor general romance hcs!

🥀A/n: HES SO POOKIE I LOVE HIM‼️

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, slight angst if u squint, switch!viktor

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

this man is such a workaholic, he genuinely never thought that he would fall in love

viktor is very inexperienced in the romance department, so he's definitely a little awkward at first

once he's close with someone, he definitely starts to open up to them a lot more! he'd really appreciate a partner that he can have deep, philosophical conversations with and definitely asks for your opinion on a lot of things

your a very valuable person in his life, and viktor makes sure that you know that. while he may not be great with words, his actions show that he truly cares for you

while he may not admit it, viktor loves when you complete acts of service for him or help him at all. he loves when you visit him in the lab and bring him some coffee, it always makes his day

because he works so much and spends so much time in the lab, viktor will often invite you to join him there. you two often spend hours together, just sitting in near-silence and working in tandem. viktor would love it if you got along well with jayce (and sky too but mostly jayce), you are his favorite people and he would love it if you all got along

viktor isn't the most cuddly person in the world, but he makes some exceptions for you! after a long day, he loves just melting into your embrace and having you play with his hair. viktor would spend hours just laying in your lap and rambling about hextech if he could

he's not big on pda, but he loves holding your hand. viktor holds your hand anywhere and everywhere, he always wants you as close to him as possible and he'll sometimes trace words into the back of your hand with his thumb when you are asleep. before he said "i love you" out loud, viktor probably traced it against your skin at least a million times.

viktor prefers to stay in for dates, and definitely enjoys staying up late with you. idk if they have television in the world of arcane, but it seems a little shocking that they can have giant magical teleportation portals and literal magic orbs and magic flying blimps and body enhancing drugs but haven't created a tv. so like. lets just pretend they do have television. cuz if they do, than you and viktor DEFINITELY have movie marathons and movie nights together

he loves making you little trinkets and gifts!!! whenever there is extra material leftover at the lab, viktor's first thought is to make something for you! he once made you an entire bouquet of fake flowers out of scrap metal, and told you that he would love you until the flowers withered (it would never wither cuz its made of metal ☹️). your home is practically overflowing with these little trinkets, but you REFUSE to get rid of any of them (i think i saw the flower scenario on a tiktok, but URGRHRHRH i wanna write it so... if anyone is interested... 😇)

honestly, the best time spent with viktor is in the comfort of your own home. you have a very domestic relationship, and he likes sitting with you in comfortable silence.

he'll call you pet names in zaun, even before you two are together😭

overall, viktor is genuinely such a sweetheart once he trusts you and will stay by your side no matter what

nsfw:

SWITCH LEANING SUB 🫵🫵🫵

because of his leg and overall sickness, viktor definitely prefers simpler positions that don't require a lot of physical stress

he likes having you on top of him so that he doesn't have to put pressure on his knee, and he definitely prefers not having to push himself too hard

i'd say his favorite positions would probably be you riding him, sitting on his face, lotus position, and maybe 69 or missionary too (but the last two are only on good days when he isn't in too much pain)

at first, viktor was insecure about sleeping with you because he genuinely does not think very highly of himself and didn't want you to think that he was weak or ugly :( please reassure him

ON THAT TOPIC!!! PRAISE!!!!!!

praise is literally SO important to him, while it is one of his kinks i genuinely think he appreciates it outside of the bedroom as well.

lots and lots of communication. "is this ok", "can i touch you here", type of stuff. he's very gentle with you, and obviously you are with him as well

because he wears his leg brace literally all the time, viktor has a handful of bruises and scars from the brace rubbing against his skin 24/7 (idk if he sleeps w it on tbh- im assuming not but u get the point) and he can be a little insecure about them. PLEASE kiss them and show his body a lot of affection in general

viktor isn't super vocal at first, but once he trusts you he lets out the neediest whines and moans. he curses a lot under his breath, and he has a verrryyyyy pretty fucked-out expression.

this man is a switch 100%. most of the time he subs and bottoms, but sometimes he'll dom from the bottom and very occasionally he'll dom from on top. when he's a sub i definitely see him as, like, the male version of a pillow princess. he definitely just wants to lay back and get taken care of, and will get very pouty if you do not do so. he loves being pampered and praised and he's SOOO sensitive when he's subbing. when he's in a more dominant mood, i see him getting off on your pleasure a lot more than his own. he loves fingering you, and definitely loves overstimulating you

viktor loves being marked and also marking you. he bites down on your shoulder a lot to muffle his moans, and he loves giving you hickeys. i genuinely think that's another one of his kinks as well

TOYS!!! im sorry but this man definitely has an extensive collection of sex toys you can't tell me im wrong bc im not. he isn't inexperienced by any means, but he probably got a lot of toys over the years because he just didn't really have that many partners and just wanted to try a bunch of things on his own yk? anyways, he fucking LOVES using them on you and teasing you mercilessly is definitely part of your guys' foreplay

this man has the most gorgeous hands and definitely puts them to good use‼️ you cannot tell me viktor does not have amazingly skilled hands bc your wrong. he literally does jayce told me

i don't think he's super vanilla but i also don't think he's into like SUPER hardcore bdsm? i think it would intrigue him but he's probably the type to be into what you are into and if you want to try something new, he's more than willing (as long as its safe. either of you getting seriously hurt is a major nono for him). that being said, i don't think he'd mind being handcuffed or experimenting a bit with shibari, but you guys DEFINITELY have a safeword. like even if you have 100% vanilla soft sex he still establishes a safeword with u and makes sure your comfortable.

overall, his kinks include: praise (giving and receiving), little bit of edging (receiving), overstimulation (only giving), marking, and kind of a wildcard but also maybe somnophilia. like he would NOT complain about waking up to head lmao- he's def the type to have wet dreams i want to write this omg

i am so! tired!!! still feeling very crappy but i am pushing through my classes until the end of the year 😭 i am so close and yet so far 🙂‍↕️

ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYED!!! FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ARCANE REQUESTS!!! ive also been on a huge jayce x viktor streak lately? im not usually a big shipper but their dynamic intrigues me. i want to put them in a jar together and shake them around a bit. but yea i love them both!!!

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dalgona-crumbs · 6 months ago

Text

✧˖°𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻-𝗷𝘂 (player 120) 𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝗵𝗰𝘀｡

𝘴𝘧𝘸

- Loves when you play with her hair! Pleeeease run your hands through her soft hair, its intimate and validating for Hyun-ju.

- Isn't a fan of PDA, but will totally hold your hand in public. This isn't against you at all! I can see Hyun-ju still a bit self conscious with her image, but still craving that traditional "couples activities." Imagine her walking arm in arm with you, feeling confident in not only her being, but her love for you.

- Hyun-ju wants to be the small spoon sometimes! We all know she's a protective type. She's always making you feel safe and sound, but like everyone else... she needs to be protected at times.

"Eh? You want me to.." Hyun-ju gulps. The two of you are in bed after a long day. Lights off, pajamas on. This was about the time you'd settle in her arms for the night, claiming your safe haven. Tonight however, you asked if your girlfriend wanted to be the small spoon for a change. Her eyes widened, a light rose hue delighting her face.

"Mmmhmm." You explain your plan and she enthusiastically nods. It's almost too cute! She rolls over her side, laying back facing you. Hyun-ju places her hands together nervously, one palm holding the other's fingers. She lays in wait, anticipating your familiar touch.

You scooch up to your lover, wrapping her in a tender embrace. The front of your much smaller body pressed against her taller figure, it was heaven. You place your head behind Hyun-ju's neck, placing a chaste kiss.

"Everything alright? We can switch back if yo-" You're suddenly interrupted by a quiet giggle. You can't see it from this position, but your girlfriend is smiling from ear to ear.

(Spice under the cut.)

N𝘴𝘧𝘸

- Gentle top!!! Service dom!!! Come on y'all. I feel like she would want to make her partner feel good. Her caring and determined nature shows up in the bedroom too.

- Size difference. She is TALL. Ugh, love me a tall woman. Knows you like it too and uses it to tease you. One particular night, she slipped on a silken bodycon dress and some heels. This would never see the light of day, not yet at least. (I can see Hyun-ju having multiple dresses and heels she tries on at home, but not in public yet.)

The way the dress clung to her breasts, the style that shows off her muscular arms.. you felt feint. Not to mention how she towered over you even more than usual with those heels. You gulped hard as she slowly approached you, pushing you down to the bed with one hand.

"You're a goddess.." A shaky breath escaped your lips as you eye Hyun-ju. Her hair tied up in a high ponytail, red lipstick on her plump lips. She looks at you from above with nothing but adoration. As she shrugs the straps off of her dress, you can't help but gawk as it falls to the floor.

You're breathing heavier than before. The dainty yet seductive way she steps out of the fabric pooling at her heels. You hear the click of the shoes as she kicks the discarded garment away.

Your lover, your world.. is standing before you in nothing but a necklace, lace lingerie, and those red heels. You gulp as her fingers undo the clasp of her bra. If you weren't so horny, you'd see a slight shake in her hands. Hyun-ju was more than happy to show off to you, but there was always a bit of anxiety hanging around.

As you meet her gaze, more than eager to start this night... she feels solid in her place with you.

#hey dhhdjdh did you like that or nahhh #player 120 x reader #Hyun-ju #hyun ju #squid game x reader #squid game 2 #squid game player 120 #hyun ju x reader #hyun-ju x reader #squid game x you #squid game headcanons #squid game imagines #squid game #player 120

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always-just-red · 2 months ago

Note

Multi headcanon request please. The LIs touch their s/os' breast for the first time, but it's an accident. However, instead of getting mad, she gently scolds them "save that behavior for when we're alone".

You always give me such great requests tehe, I had the absolute time of my life with this one. Did mini fics again! Featuring this time: a baking class with Xavier 🍰, a check-up with Zayne 🩺, pottery-making with Rafayel 🏺, casino night with Sylus 🎲, and a VERY serious study session with Caleb 📚

Innocent Little Mistakes

L&DS Boys x Reader

Summary: In which the boys are all menaces, surprising literally no-one 🥰

Genre: Humour

Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, inappropriate touching (but make it ✨COMEDY✨), PDA, slight suggestiveness, established relationships

| Word count: 600-750 words each! | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

One more strike and you’re out.

You furiously mix the bowl of cake batter under your arm, all too aware of the chef watching you from across the room. You don’t know why he’s looking at you— you’re not the problem. The problem is beside you, measuring out an ingredient you don’t actually need.

“What’re you up to, Xavi?” you ask with a nervous chuckle, trying not to sound suspicious.

He looks up at you, blue eyes as warm as the oven that’s making everything feel too hot. “Measuring,” he declares with a smile.

“That’s great, sweetie.”

Don’t ask. Just leave it.

Every other couple in the class look sickeningly in love— trading ingredients, utensils, and lingering gazes— all in perfect harmony. Meanwhile, you have a ticking time bomb for a partner. First there was the egg incident: a rogue egg from your table had somehow ended up under the foot of the man one counter down from you, slipping him over and twisting his ankle. Then the man from the couple behind you slipped too: on a butter wrap Xavier had sworn he’d thrown away.

Funny how so many of the things from your counter are going on little, deadly adventures.

You shoot Xavier another wary look. He glances up. Smiles. You smile back. When the cake batter’s done, tipped into the tin and tucked into the oven, you move onto the icing. You whip it up in a minute, lifting a spoon from the bowl and dragging a finger through to taste it.

“Xavier,” you say, nudging the bowl across to him, “mind putting a little more sugar in this? I need to start tidying up.”

“Sure,” he beams.

He can’t mess that up, right? You don’t want to exclude him. With a soft sigh, you start to reorganise your work station: making space for the cake you’re going to decorate. Xavier’s voice interrupts you, sweet like the sugar flowers you’re sorting through:

“How’s this?”

You turn, and the moment you do, something cool scrapes your collarbone. Xavier was holding out a spoon— too close— and it tips at your contact, spilling sticky white icing down past the neckline of your apron and shirt. You feel it, inching down your skin, between your breasts.

You’ve been stunned into silence. Xavier is staring down too, lips parted, spoon still mid-air.

“Don’t just stare!” you find it in you to scold, glancing about for something that’ll help you clean up. “Help me—”

That’s when you feel it: something warm on your skin. Your gaze shoots down and Xavier is wiping his thumb through the mess on your chest. He lifts the icing to his mouth. Pops it past his lips.

“Xavier!” you exclaim on a whisper.

His eyes had fluttered closed, but they open again. His lips are still on his thumb as he looks back at you. “Mmm?” he hums around it, like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

That face is so devastatingly innocent, but you’re not falling for it. You cross your arms and glare.

“You want some too?” Xavier translates.

Before you can stop him, his thumb is on your skin again. “Xavi—!” you protest, but then that thumb is in your mouth, overwhelming you with sweetness. Except… it’s not all sweet. You frown as Xavier’s hand moves away, your nose wrinkling with disgust. “Wha— why is it salty?!”

“Wasn’t it salty already?”

“No! Xavier, what did you…? You can’t just—!”

“Are you okay?” Xavier laughs so lightly it’s almost a giggle. “You look… warm. What are you thinking about?”

He’s leaning against the counter now, cheek settled in his hand. He has the countenance of an angel and he knows what you’re thinking about. His free hand plays with a salt shaker on the counter; it doesn’t look anything like the sugar.

Behind you, someone clears their throat.

…

You walk home from the bakery class a lot earlier than planned, having— and you’re quoting verbatim, here— ‘crossed a line’. Xavier’s at your side, a bowl of icing in his hands that no-one dared take from him, and he hums pleasantly to himself as he lifts a fingerful to his lips.

“You did that on purpose,” you grumble, and it’s the first words you’ve said in a while.

He smiles like butter icing wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Zayne ❄️

“Zayne, c’mon… it’s not that bad.”

Lower half cocooned by the blankets of a hospital bed, you give your doctor a lopsided smile. He doesn’t grace your statement with a response— at least, not an intelligible one. There’s a tiny hum, to let you know you’ve been heard. There’s an even tinier frown, to let you know he was not amused.

So you got a little scraped up by a Wanderer— it happens! With your own frown, you regard the pulse oximeter that’s biting the end of your forefinger. You wiggle it, even though Zayne had instructed you to keep still. The tiny screen flashes and flickers. He writes… something down on his clipboard, and it feels needlessly dramatic.

“How would you rate the pain you’re currently experiencing?” he asks.

“Zero. Zilch. Nada. I feel great, actually.”

More scribbles for the clipboard, which means absolutely nothing good.

“I mean it, Zayne. I’m fine, really. I don’t even know why Xavier brought me here. Like, what’s the point of first-aid training if you’re just gonna dump someone in the hospi—”

“Please be still.”

You’d started gesturing, and Zayne stares across at the monitor on your finger. He sighs, which you don’t think is professional, then reaches to press a button on it, restarting its progress. You’re obedient this time: sitting still as he goes back to his beloved clipboard. That sigh sounded tired.

The oximeter bleeps. Zayne glances up. Makes another note.

“There,” he says, his eyes still trained downwards as he reaches across you to retrieve the device, “was that really so—?”

The words stop in his throat when his hand brushes your chest.

Just a graze, but his fingers hover guiltily for a moment before correcting their course: homing in on the oximeter, pinching it open. Zayne doesn’t meet your eyes as he returns to his writing. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks that definitely isn’t professional.

This is amazing. “Did you just—?”

He gives an adorably slight shake of his head.

You gasp anyway, utterly scandalised: “Doctor Zayne! You took an oath.”

“Stop.”

“Here I am, weak from blood loss! Vulnerable!”

“Stop.”

“What sort of an establishment is this, hmm? What other twisted, sordid things go on behind the—” and it’s at this moment you catch a glimpse of a familiar figure— “ah, Doctor Greyson! Doctor Greyson! In here, please!”

The man had been passing through the ward, though he stops at the sound of your voice. “Oh, hello!” he greets, peering around your privacy curtain, “Zayne mentioned you were in! It’s good to see you. Well, not good to see you here, but— you know what I mean! How are you?”

“I’m shocked,” you witter on, because you’ve no time for pleasantries, “shocked, I say! Just now, this man here had the audacity to—”

A cold hand clamps over your mouth.

You are— actually— shocked. You blink at Greyson, eyes wide; even he looks like he’s seen a Wanderer riding a bicycle through the hospital. After a moment of tense, awkward silence, he does that face you know so well. His ‘nope, I’m not going anywhere near whatever this is!’ face.

It’s not a surprise when he backs out, leaving you and Zayne alone once more. Your doctor’s hand is still over your mouth, breaching all kinds of ethics, and oh, how the mighty have fallen. This feels like victory. When Zayne’s hand finally drops, you’re grinning.

“Had your fun?” he asks quietly, looking back to his notes.

“Have you? Or do you wanna have another...?” You waggle a finger at your breasts.

Zayne’s mouth is a tight line, and he doesn’t dare look up. Something is scrawled on the clipboard and you get the feeling it’s a distraction. Your very important doctor is writing very important things. Definitely isn’t scribbling nonsense. He clears his throat, then stands rigidly, his face sombre.

Did you take your joke too far? Your heart starts to have some kind of episode as he walks away, and the stupid machine you’re hooked up to says nothing about it, which is typical.

But Zayne still stops at the curtain. Glances over his shoulder.

“Ask me later,” he says with a gentle smirk.

Rafayel 🎨

“This is just like that old movie.”

Rafayel hums a familiar, vintage tune as his hands cradle yours, guiding them up and down, up and down, as a wet clay vase spins beneath your touch. Everything about your partner is relaxed: his fingers, lazy and precise, and his head, settled comfortably on your shoulder. The song is so close to your ear that it tickles.

How the hell is he so calm? Your eyes are fixed downwards, brow furrowed with the sort of concentration you’d usually save for disarming a bomb. Your fingers feel clumsy and dangerous. Your head hurts. It doesn’t help that every other couple in the pottery class are stealing less-than-subtle glances your way: isn’t that—?

Yep! The Rafayel. Creative genius, ‘Da Vinci of our time’ Rafayel, and here you are, ever a moment away from destroying his latest masterpiece.

“Raf, stop…” you mutter, because he’s still humming away, distracting you.

“Okay!”

The song stops. You don’t think Rafayel has ever co-operated so quickly. Which means…

“Woahhh,” he sings quietly, privately, and right on cue, “my love… my darling… I’ve hungered for your—”

“Stop!” you hiss under your breath, untangling a hand from your project so you can swat at his face.

“A long... lonely— ah! — tiiiime!”

The vase is already folding over on itself, collapsing into a sad, soggy heap as Rafayel half sings, half chuckles, catching your hand so he can launch a counterstrike. A wet finger brushes your nose and you gasp, wrinkling your face in indignance. Then you wriggle your hand free, going in for another swat. The artist’s head has left your shoulder. The arms around you are suddenly attacking.

There’s a kerfuffle of hands, slick and sticky with clay. Slapping each-other. Trying to outmanoeuvre each-other. One lands on your chest with a thwap!

You both go deathly still.

Rafayel has stopped laughing, his body a marble statue behind you; you think his breath has actually gone. When his hand lifts away from you, it’s like a delusional cat slinking away from a crime: if I move slowly enough, I’m completely invisible.

What isn’t invisible, however, is the crude clay handprint he leaves behind. You stare down at it, mortified. “Raf!” you scold, and oh gods you hope nobody saw what just happened.

“I didn’t—” he begins, and he’s staring down over your shoulder, too. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t just sit there!” You shoo him away, one hand hovering in front of your chest like you’re not wearing anything at all. “I need something to—”

“On it!”

He can fix this. He can fix this. He practically falls off the seat you’d been sharing as he unwraps himself from you, stumbling up onto his feet. His hands are on his hips as he catches his breath; it had taken a lot of effort not to end up on the floor.

With a glance about, the artist spies a nearby cloth. You see the ‘aha!’ moment— the relief in his eyes as he turns towards it, on a mission. Your hero.

There’s a soft smack!

Rafayel freezes, pink creeping into his cheeks.

By the time he looks down over his shoulder, eyes widening at the bright, wet handprint on his ass, you’re already salvaging your clay vase— moulding it back into a workable blob as you hum an old song, completely innocent.

Sylus 🩸

“So… what are we spending our winnings on, sweetie?”

“A diamond as big as me,” you whisper.

“Is that it?”

Hmm. “A diamond as big as you.”

“Now you’re talking.”

Sylus chuckles, as rich and intoxicating as the alcohol he swirls in a glass as he stalls before his next throw. No-one would dare rush him. His other hand toys with a pair of dice, turning them over each-other, making them waltz about his fingers. The ministrations are practiced, experienced, and— glancing around the craps table— you’re not the only one who’s noticed.

One woman is utterly mesmerised. She takes a sip of her drink, swallowing thickly, and you like to think (delusionally) that you’ve never quite stared at Sylus as shamelessly as that. It isn’t her fault, though. Every person at the table is fixated on the man beside you, and it’s not just because they’ve got stakes in whatever he rolls next.

Sylus doesn’t own this casino— as far as you know— but he acts like he does. He places his bets. Smiles when he wins and smiles wider when he loses, as though in on a private joke. Everyone wants to know what it is. You inch closer to Sylus. Ask loud enough for them all to hear: “What do we need again?”

We.

“A nine,” he answers.

There’s a soft clack as the dice go still in his palm. He’s staring down the forest-green battleground you both stand at the head of. “Here,” he says, lifting his hand towards you, “blow on—”

He’s misjudged the distance, because his fingers collide with your chest. One of the dice rolls from his palm, tumbling down past the neckline of your dress and into your cleavage. It’s cold, but you don’t flinch. You look down in slow disbelief. Then you look at Sylus.

His crimson eyes are fixed on where the die disappeared. He glances up with a sheepish grin. “Oops.”

Oops? Your gaze is a knife at his throat and he thinks if he’s cute enough, you might not use it. You narrow your eyes and purse your lips. Wanna try that again?

Sylus’s laugh is awkward, but he isn’t a coward. “May I just—?”

His hand comes towards you, and though those fingers were never actually going to commit to that little suicide mission, you still slap them away. “No!”

He pouts, splaying the same hand expectantly. With a sigh, your fingers delve beneath your neckline, fishing around for a second. You present the die with an uninspired flourish, and it’s warm when you drop it into Sylus’s open palm. His fingers close around it. He’s smirking to himself as he turns back to the table.

“Lucky die,” he muses under his breath.

“What did you just say?!”

Louder: “I said ‘lucky—”

“You’re a dead man, Sylus Qin. D-E-A-D. Dead. You hear me? The moment we get home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sylus nods dutifully; he’s not going to argue with that particular judge, jury, and executioner. He tosses the dice across the table and they clatter as they roll— the same, indifferent timbre as the chuckle in his throat. Everyone goes silent when they judder to a stop. Everyone leans in, fractionally.

A six and a three. Nine.

The gathering around you give a tentative applause. No-one really knows what just happened, least of all you and Sylus. You both stare at the dice, eyes wide, as a casino employee slides stacks of chips in your direction. Neither of you move when the dice are passed back, too.

It’s your turn, but Sylus has been throwing for you. He reaches forwards to collect the dice— starts to toy with them idly again, but it’s more pensive than last time. They clack, clack, but his mind is far away from them. Ever so slowly, his gaze inches towards you, pondering a silent question.

He’s not looking at your eyes.

Your arms cross. “Don’t even think about it.”

Caleb 🍎

“A Gelidus Dentis.”

Caleb’s voice makes you jump so much you almost drop your pen. “Huh?”

He’s stood behind where you’re sat, peering downwards. “It’s a Wanderer.”

“Yeah, I know it’s a Wanderer, Colonel Obvious. I meant why’re you talking about it?”

“Because it’s the answer? Duh.” He nods at the open textbook in front of you, and your gaze drops.

You’d practically been falling asleep reading through the practice question: some hypothetical about the aftermath of a Wanderer attack. Somewhere with a cold climate. Victims with ice burns. Multiple lacerations. Blah blah blah— you’ve got the idea.

“Please,” you dismiss as Caleb returns to his seat next to you. “It’s a Hoarfrost Wyrmlord. Easy.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I’ve seen one of those guys. That’s not it.”

“Oh you’ve seen one? Big whoop. I’ve killed one. Try, like, twenty.”

He tuts sympathetically as he goes back to his own work: some reports that’re definitely way too confidential for a public library. “Then it’s gonna be really embarrassing when you find out that I’m right and you’re wrong, pips.”

You scoff, making a point of writing out ‘Hoarfrost Wyrmlord’ as confidently as you can.

“Gelidus Dentis,” Caleb lilts in a sing-song voice as you flick to the back of your textbook.

You’re gonna shove your correct answer right in his face, you just need to find it. It should be right… here! Section Three. Question Twenty-Two. The Wanderer responsible is most likely a—

Fuck.

“I told you,” Caleb sings quietly again, signing his name on the bottom of a page, then turning it over.

“It was a Hoarfrost Wyrmlord.”

“It really wasn’t, but it’s cute you still hide your mouth when you’re lying.”

Your hand had lifted subconsciously in front of your lips, and you throw it back down on the textbook. “Oh, shush!”

“You shush!” The measureless galaxies of his eyes are back on you.

You slap his arm gently. He slaps your arm gently. You try to slap at his face, which means he tries to slap at your face. Soon enough, you’re both flailing your hands like two cats determined to bop the other.

Caleb’s paw lands on one of your breasts, and he doesn’t have time to regret it. With an indignant gasp, you give his chest a firm smack!

He stares at you in disbelief. You clear your throat, brushing down the fabric of your shirt as if the matter has been settled. Then you pick up your dropped pen. Okay! Question Twenty-Three: You’re called out to answer a distress signal from deep within a tropical rainforest...

“What was that?” Caleb asks.

You sniff. Say under your breath: “Tit for tit.”

“Come again?”

“Tit for tit,” you shrug. “That’s the saying. That’s how it goes.”

From the smile on his face, Caleb’s delighted. “Uh… I don’t think that is how it goes, pipsqueak.”

“Oh yeah? Hope you’re ready to look like an idiot, then.”

With a hmph, you reach for a spare piece of paper. Fold it in half. Write something brief on the outside, then on the inside. Caleb watches your pen move, quietly enamoured. There’s a click as it retracts. You hand the paper over.

Caleb’s face wrinkles, but he still handles it like it’s sacred. “Totally official dictionary!” he reads from the front. Then he opens it, continuing: “Tit for tit. Noun. If Caleb cops a feel in the library, then I get to… hey now—” he frowns— “this doesn’t seem very legitimate.”

“You dare question the authority of the Hunter’s Association?”

“I do,” he nods. “I do dare. Yeah, you see… look at this.”

He scribbles something down in your dictionary, then passes it back to you. You raise an eyebrow but relent, reading the new addition out loud: “Deepspace Fleet. Proper (awesome) noun. Has absolutely every right to question the authority of the Hunter’s Association.” You toss the paper down. “Whatever.”

Caleb sniggers victoriously as you try to get back to your work. When he doesn’t stop, you give his chest another slap. The sniggering dies out. The space between you goes quiet.

Then he reaches— smacks one of your breasts back. You look up, eyes huge.

“Oh,” he chuckles, “I think I’m gonna like this little arrangement.”

#🖋rach is actually writing #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #caleb x reader #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads x mc #shen xinghui #li shen #qi yu #qin che #xia yizhou #lads #lnds #l&ds

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gibberishfangirl · 1 year ago

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WIND BREAKER | when you wear someone else’s jacket

Synopsis ✰ how they react when they notice you wearing a piece of clothing that isn’t theirs

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! slight possessive behavior, tiny amount of jealousy, little bit of territorial behavior, minor pda, content of the boys being tested in a way?

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

Sakura knew something was off but couldn’t exactly pin point what it was. you went in for a hug since you haven’t seen your boyfriend all day. it was while he was in your embrace he inhaled a scent, a masculine smell that wasn’t yours or his, his eyebrows immediately furrowed. once you pulled away he examined your body, you looked fine, no visible marks, your outfit was normal… except for that over sized sweatshirt that was draped over your body.

“where’d you get that from?” he asked completely cutting off your babbling. you frowned over his abrupt interruption to your story. he didn’t even look sorry that he ruined your story just blankly staring at you until you opened your mouth to answer.

“a friend from class gave it to me, i was cold.” you answered confused why he was making it a thing. Sakura wasn’t the type to get jealous, it hadn’t even crossed your mind that something like this would ever bother him.

“what friend? boy or girl?” huh, what type of question was that? why would he ask that? there’s no way he could be bothered by something so small, right?

“uhm… a boy? does that matter?” you asked with your eyebrows slightly raised. you had never seen Sakura act so… weird? not over something like this.

“no, just curious.” he finally muttered out after what felt like a lifetime pause. the two of you continued your walk back home in silence. the entire time Sakura couldn’t fight off that frown setting on his perfect face. his eyes were stuck in a trance on you, more like that sweater on your body. you felt your entire body heating up by his intense stare.

you let out a sigh, getting the hint he was clearly upset over the sweater. you stopped in your tracks and pulled the sweater off your body. your boyfriends face immediately perked up after seeing you take it off. he was secretly grateful you did that because he was very unsure how to go about the conversation. before you even knew it, he was already taking off his jacket and putting it on you. you blushed at his action, it wasn’t something you were expecting him to do.

“just come to me whenever you’re cold from now on. i’ll warm you up.” he softly says with the warmest blush spreading across his face.

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

Umemiya is rather calm in most situations so something like this doesn’t necessarily trigger him into doing anything drastic. he didn’t think much of it, until you kept wearing it for the rest of the day— then he started thinking ‘it seriously can’t be that cold, take it off already.’ he didn’t want to ask you whose jacket it was since he didn’t want to come off as jealous… even if he is. one thing he did know for sure was that everyone knew you two were dating. he couldn’t help himself anymore before he started taking off his jacket and removing the one you were wearing. he did it so quickly you almost didn’t even get the chance to register what he did. before you knew it his jacket was wrapped around you. you opened your mouth to ask—

“i just thought you’d look better with mine on.” he cut you off before smiling. his words caused you to blush.

“thank you.” you mumbled still registering what had just happened. he took your hand and interlocked it with his own and continued your walk home.

“who’s jacket is it? i’ll make sure to return it for you.” he smoothly says trying to pry the information of who gave it to you in a subtle way. at least, his version of subtle.

“oh- hm i actually don’t even remember. i almost forgot i was wearing it.” you’re confused now since you actually can’t remember who gave it to you. you stopped in your tracks, deep in thought trying to remember. “ah! i remember now, don’t worry about giving it to her. I can do that myself.” you exclaimed happily as you finally remembered the nice girl who lent it to you. she said it was her older brothers but she was always stealing his jackets and hoodies.

“oh good, i’m glad to hear that.” he smiled as you reached out to grab the jacket from his hands. he was relieved to hear that the jacket was from an innocent classmate of yours.

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

as if anyone could even beat Suo into giving you a jacket before he does. Suo had already noticed the way your body was slightly trembling underneath the vent of the air conditioner. however, he also noticed another boy in the corner of his eye looking at you as well. he saw as the boy already begun taking off his jacket and making his way up to you. Suo suddenly felt this urge of territorial dominance creeping up as he wanted to show that you were his. before the boy could reach you Suo wrapped his arm around your chair and pulled your seat/desk closer to his.

“my poor baby, you’re cold. let me warm you up.” he offered with a smile before pulling you into his arms. your body instantly warmed up due to his own warmth. you happily accepted his offer as you buried yourself against his chest meanwhile he hugged you and rubbed your back with his warm hands.

Suo turned to look at the boy who already walked away after noticing you had a boyfriend to keep you warm. he let out a small sigh before keeping you huddled up on his side for the rest of class.

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

he didn’t even realize the jacket you were wearing wasn’t yours. it looked so perfect and well fitted on you he actually thought nothing of it. the two of you were spending the whole day together and he said nothing about it. until you took it off and he noticed the name on the tag wasn’t yours.

“this isn’t your jacket?” he finally asked looking closer at it.

“oh no. it’s my friends, she let me borrow it after i forgot to bring mine.” you admitted slightly embarrassed you forgot to bring a jacket.

“i thought it was yours this whole time…” he paused, he was unsure of what to feel. should he be jealous? is it not a big deal? should he offer his instead? he decided to listen to his gut feeling. “are you still cold?”

“a little i guess, her jackets pretty thin so i can still feel the air through it.”

“here, take mine instead.”

“thank you.”

“of course! ask me for my jacket next time you’re cold, i have no problem giving it to you.” he smiled before taking your friends jacket and carrying it for you. Nirei didn’t actually care about you wearing someone else’s jacket as long as you weren’t cold, however, he still would prefer seeing you in his jacket before anyone else’s.

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

“take that thing off.” Togame wasted no time expressing his feelings about you wearing another man’s clothes. in all honesty, it irked him way more than he liked to admit. his mind was racing with thoughts of who would be stupid enough to give you their jacket, knowing that you’re his girlfriend.

“huh?? why? i’m cold.” you pouted not wanting to remove the soft material off of your body.

“it’s ugly, you don’t need it. take it off.” his voice was way more stern this time. a small part of you wanted to stand your ground and say no. however, a much larger and smarter part of you knew it was better not to. you took off the jacket with a frown before he snatched it away from your hands.

“wear this instead, my girlfriend shouldn’t go around wearing other men’s clothing.” he scolded while handing over his Shishitoren jacket to you. you wanted to argue but you couldn’t help blushing at his possessive behavior. it shouldn’t have such a strong affect on you but it does.

“who gave it to you anyways? give me a name.” he ordered while scoping out the jacket. it looked strangely familiar but he couldn’t exactly remember where he’s seen it before.

“it’s Choji’s jacket. he offered it to me and said I can keep it until I find you.” you answered with a bright smile. Choji’s gesture meant no harm since he was just trying to look out for his best friend’s girlfriend. he knew Togame wouldn’t have an issue if he knew it was his jacket. yes, you were well-aware of the fact that Togame was only mad because he thought it was someone else’s jacket.

“oh.” the realization settling in as his whole demeanor changed into something more relaxed.

“yes, oh.” you giggled. you could’ve told him sooner that it was Choji’s but where’s the fun in that?

“you called Choji’s jacket ugly.”

“shut up, you should’ve said something sooner.”

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

Choji’s mood went from 100 to 0 real quick. his very bright and wide smile getting wiped off his face as his eyes landed on the jacket you were wearing. you tilted your head in confusion to his sudden mood shift. he was usually ecstatic to see you, you couldn’t help but sadden at the lack of emotion he was expressing towards you. were you two in the middle of a fight? had you argued with him and forgot? you didn’t know why he reacted like that. Choji walked up towards you and swiftly took off the jacket from your body. it happened so fast you couldn’t process what even happened. the emotion of confusion stayed in your body as he walked past you with the jacket thrown over his shoulder.

Choji made it his business as leader of Shishitoren to know everything and everyone. as soon as he saw that jacket on you he knew exactly who it belonged to. once you snapped back into reality you chased Choji down slightly worried about what he was planning to do. you found him with the guy who offered you the jacket by the Ori. you watched from a distance as Choji roughly chucked the jacket to the sitting boy’s face. the boy immediately stood up ready to defend himself.

“keep your filthy jacket to yourself and off my girlfriend from here on out.” Choji spat completely unamused by the whole situation. before the boy could even defend himself, Choji’s dark glare silenced him causing him to sit back down before muttering out a small “i understand.” he truly meant no harm by giving you his jacket but in hindsight he really should’ve known better than to do something so stupid. especially when considering you’re his leader’s girlfriend. Choji left it at that, it was his way of showing mercy and restraint.

“oh, you’re here.” he smiled once noticing you at the end of the street. before you could even respond he clashed himself against your lips roughly deepening the kiss as he practically shoved his tongue down your throat. you felt your face getting red, Choji typically wasn’t so affectionate in public, you knew he was doing this to prove a point. your grip tightened around his shirt before you pulled yourself off, small pants escaping from your lips.

“Cho-Choji you can’t just do that.” you argued extremely flustered.

“sorry! i forget you can get so shy, my pretty girl.” he smiled before softly giving you one more kiss. he had no doubt that the boy who gave you his jacket and his friends had all watched your little display of affection. he didn’t mind them watching, he wanted to remind everyone who exactly you belonged to. Choji wrapped an arm around your waist before pulling you closer as the two of you walked off.

#divider by anitalenia #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #hayato suo #suo hayato x reader #nirei akihiko #nirei akihiko x reader #jo togame #jo togame x reader #choji tomiyama #choji tomiyama x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #sakura haruka #sakura haruka x reader

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svt-luna · 7 days ago

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𝜗℘ SOLDIER

❛ 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘪𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘪 𝘢𝘪𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯' 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯' 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦— 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘪𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯. ❜

timeline: 2024

synposis: At his military training graduation, Jeonghan stands tall as a soldier— but it’s Luna’s surprise arrival that brings him to his knees in love all over again.

wc: 5.9k

warnings: cursing, slightly suggestive (very slight), fluff, flirting, pda, mentions of crying, more fluff, more flirting, more pda, JeongNa!in love, simp!Luna, military jargon i have researched (p.s. i made a few stuffs up with prior research!), mentions of sasaengs

this will be a short one, my loves! also, just a disclaimer! this will focus on Jeonghan’s military training graduation ceremony. and in the Luna-Verse he did his basic training his very first couple of weeks. so! this will take place a few weeks after Him & I (which means this is not Luna and Han’s first time seeing each other in a while!) so check that out if you haven’t already! don’t worry, i made sure i explained and wrote it in a way you guys would understand! happy reading, my loves! 🤍💚

part two: the smut aftermath - coming soon !

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

There was not a single damn thing in the universe that could dampen Luna's mood today.

Not the weather.

Not the aching in her back from the twelve-hour flight.

Not the growing pounding in her head from the lack of sleep.

Nothing.

Not even her alarm— the one that usually earned a groggy groan and a violent swipe across her bedside table, managed to irritate her. For the first time in the history of that obnoxious, blaring ringtone, she was waiting for it. She was awake before it even went off, staring at the ceiling of her hotel room with a grin stretching lazily across her face.

"Come on," she whispered at the phone screen, which read 05:59 AM. "Come on, come on, come on-"

BZZZZZZZZZTTT BZZZZZZZZZTTT.

She snatched it off the table like it had personally offended her, but instead of silencing it, she just sat up, let it ring for a few more seconds like it was a chorus, and then grinned even wider. Her heart felt too full for someone who hadn't slept in what felt like decades.

And she didn't care.

She welcomed the exhaustion with open arms because exhaustion meant movement, and movement meant she was one step closer to seeing him.

The flight back to Seoul from Paris had been long, tight, and exhausting. The air felt stale, she had barely eaten, and her jet lag was knocking at her brain. But none of it touched her mood.

Not one bit.

In fact, she was surprised she hadn't offered to drive the damn plane herself. She had half a mind to march into the cockpit and ask the pilot to go faster. "I need to see my fiancé," she imagined herself saying, arms crossed, sunglasses down her nose. "And he's in uniform today. So either you move it, or I will."

Her team had barely kept up with her the moment they landed. Still in jeans and a trench coat, not even passing through home for a shower or change of clothes, she was already ushering everyone to the van with the kind of efficiency that only came with obsession.

Normally, the idea of heading somewhere else instead of home after a flight would've annoyed her to no end.

Home meant bed. Home meant peace. Home meant rest.

But not today.

In fact, home was the last place she wanted to be.

Luna didn't fly all the way back to Seoul just to fall face-first into her couch and scroll through Instagram.

No.

She flew home for him.

Even the unforgiving Seoul traffic couldn't kill her mood. Cars were barely moving. Her manager sighed for the fifth time in five minutes. “Jiyeon-ah, we should've left the airport earlier."

Luna just smiled, tapping her fingers on her knee.

"I'm not even mad," she said, voice smooth, eyes fixed out the window. "They can honk all they want. They're not the ones about to see their fiancé in a military uniform."

That shut everyone up real quick.

The sun was high and merciless by the time they arrived, the kind of heat that made you question all your life choices. Her trench coat was definitely a mistake, but again… it didn't matter. Her mood didn't waver. If anything, she welcomed the heat like it was part of the ceremony itself.

A little suffering made the reward all the sweeter.

Luna stepped out of the van, sunglasses slipping onto the bridge of her nose like armor. She walked across the training field like it was her own personal runway.

The gravel crunched beneath her chunky black boots, designer of course, and her outfit was the perfect blend of off-duty model and military fiancée— wide-leg dark denim pants, a fitted white tank top that peeked from under a crisp oversized khaki button-up, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her her freshly blown-out hair, tucked behind her ears. A simple gold chain glinted at her neck.

Luna didn't want to be too loud, too visible, but… okay, she wanted to look good. She had to look good.

Behind her, her managers and Jeonghan’s managers hustled to keep up, muttering about security and whether they should've coordinated this better, but Luna couldn't hear them anymore. Her eyes were locked on the field ahead, where soon, rows of soldiers were being guided into place.

A sea of camouflage. Rows upon rows of them.

Somewhere in that sea was him.

Jeonghan.

She could barely stop her steps from breaking into a run.

Her lips twitched upward, the excitement nearly bursting out of her skin. "God," she muttered under her breath. "I'm surprised I'm not vibrating."

They made their way to the designated guests' seating area, and even as they moved, she could feel her pulse thumping in her ears like a war drum. Her legs were heavy with anticipation, stomach light with nerves, and still nothing could dampen her mood.

Because today was Jeonghan's basic military training graduation ceremony.

Her Jeonghan.

The same Jeonghan who, just weeks ago, was thrown headfirst into army life with a regulated sleep schedule just like that.

The same Jeonghan who barely survived without his face mist but wrote her long, sappy letters like they were living in a historical drama. The same Jeonghan who snuck in a few calls when he could, telling her to take care of herself and not skip meals, even when he was the one training in freezing weather or the grueling heat.

Luna adjusted her coat as she sat down, heart thudding in her chest. She hadn't seen him in two weeks.

Well… two weeks since the surprise.

That night in Goyang, during the opening concert of their Right Here tour, the lights dimmed and the screams had barely settled when Jeonghan showed up on the big screen like he had never left. Dressed in his usual all black, grin cocky as ever.

The fans lost their minds.

But no one lost it more than Luna.

They'd spent those two days glued to each other. Not even his aching arms or her packed schedule could separate them.

But then he had to go back.

“Just two more weeks,” he said.

And now, here she was.

Returning the favor.

Jeonghan knew her schedule. He knew she had Paris. He knew she had endless solo photoshoots and international press before they kicked off the U.S. leg of the tour next week.

He knew she wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow.

So he won't be expecting her today.

She changed flights. Reorganized schedules. Pulled strings, called favors.

All of it, for him.

And not even the jet lag. Not even the heat. Not even the hellish traffic or the bleary 5AM wake-up could touch her mood.

Because in a few minutes, Yoon Jeonghan was going to step onto that parade ground and see her sitting there, front row, waiting for him.

And he wouldn't see it coming.

But for now… she had to wait. And as she does, she couldn’t help but feel the eyes on her.

Luna had never been a stranger to being looked at.

But there was something about the kind of attention she was getting now— subtle, restrained, like people were trying very hard not to be caught staring that made her lips twitch behind the safety of her sunglasses.

She could feel it, the heat of eyes on her skin, a current in the air buzzing just faintly louder than the cicadas whining under the summer sun.

The guests around her tried to play it cool.

Tried.

A few leaned into each other, whispering. One teenage boy kept glancing over his shoulder so much it looked like he was watching a tennis match. The ajumma two rows ahead was blatantly filming her with her phone, pretending to record the empty stage but angling it far too obviously.

And of course, by the back, there were two people who were definitely not supposed to be there, holding two very not discreet cameras: one pointed directly at the field, and the other fixed, no shame, right at her.

Luna didn't even try to hide the way she rolled her eyes. If anything, she was glad she had sunglasses on. She was pretty sure her pupils had hit the back of her skull.

She exhaled through her nose and adjusted her sunglasses.

"Don't engage," her manager muttered so softly only she could hear. "Let them get their little shots."

And still, not even that could touch her mood.

Because even with that click-click-click of camera shutters and the subtle gasps of "Is that Luna?" echoing in the air, she remained utterly, stubbornly euphoric.

The only thing that might actually kill her right now was the waiting.

She hated waiting.

Patience had never been one of her finer virtues. She could fake it for public events, press interviews, brand deals, maybe even the occasional family dinner.

But now? Sitting here, with her heart racing and eyes scanning the field like it held the holy grail?

Torture.

Her nails tapped a quiet, anxious rhythm against the denim stretched over her knees, too rhythmic to be casual, too restrained to be a full-blown bounce, which was exactly what she wanted to do.

Tap-tap-tap.

Pause.

Tap-tap-tap-tap.

She sighed and crossed her legs, then uncrossed them immediately because that made her more jittery. Her manager beside her handed her a small water bottle without a word.

She didn't even drink it. Just held it like it might distract her.

It didn't.

Finally, a voice came over the speakers.

The short welcome announcements began— brief, dry, and formal.

Luna straightened slightly in her seat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the basic military training completion ceremony. Please be seated as we begin."

A murmur of movement. A few last-minute guests shuffled in behind her. The heat settled heavy on her shoulders, but she didn't notice.

The announcer formally opened the ceremony with a clear, practiced tone. "We will now begin the graduation ceremony."

Luna's fingers froze mid-tap.

"Let us honor our nation. All guests, please rise for the playing of the national anthem."

The field turned solemn in an instant. Everyone stood. Some bowed their heads. Soldiers already stationed on the far ends snapped to a sharp salute.

Luna rose too, standing straight between her managers. She had heard the South Korean anthem a hundred times before, but this time it felt different. Grander. Louder. It hit her chest like a drumbeat.

Once the anthem faded, the announcer's voice returned.

"We now welcome the graduating class of the 25 Regimen, 11th Company, 4th Platoon, 3rd Squadron."

And that's when it happened.

Luna's head jerked up, body perking like someone had pulled a string in her spine.

Her entire posture shifted, her mouth parted just slightly. The tapping stopped. Her sunglasses were on but that didn't help. She pushed them up on top of her head in one smooth motion and scanned the field like a hawk.

Rows and rows of soldiers began to march in, each step measured, each line sharp. Boots hit the ground in synchronized thuds. They filed in perfectly, moving like one body.

Her eyes jumped from face to face, trying to pierce through the uniformity. Everyone looked the same from this distance, same camo fatigues, same buzzed heads, same stern expressions.

But he had to be here.

She could feel it.

She sat forward slightly, elbows on knees, ignoring the now even more aggressive stares she was getting for removing her shades.

Then…

A gentle nudge to her shoulder.

Jeonghan's manager.

He leaned in discreetly, pointed across the center left row of soldiers still filing in, and whispered low near her ear, "There. Fifth from the left."

Luna's head whipped toward the direction he gestured, breath caught in her chest— and there he was.

Yoon Jeonghan.

There was no mistaking him now.

Even in matching uniform, even under the rigid posture and lack of expression, he stood out like a firework in daylight.

His gait was slightly more fluid than the rest. His shoulders, broader than she remembered. His buzzcut? It was hidden under his beret but it was clearly short, shorter than she expected and somehow, it worked. His face looked sharper, clean and striking even from this distance. His jaw more defined, his skin glowed as if he wanted people to know where he was.

Luna's smile broke across her face before she could stop it.

Something in her chest twisted tight.

That's my fiancé.

There was a wild thrill building behind her ribs.

She hadn't seen him in uniform before. Not like this.

The photos he managed to sneak to her before were blurry, rushed, and never full-body. But now? Now he was right there, standing tall and proud, and looking like every boyfriend fantasy rolled into one.

Her stomach fluttered.

She tilted her head slightly, eyes dancing as she continued to admire him. The way he squared his shoulders. The way his eyes stayed locked ahead.

He didn't even know she was here yet. He didn't have a clue.

And that made it all the better.

He looked… strong. Disciplined. Different, but still so utterly him.

And Luna?

Luna loved it.

She couldn't stop looking at him.

Luna had seen Yoon Jeonghan in every stage of his life— barefaced, bed-headed, sulky at 4am, radiant on stage, sunlit and soft after showers, smug and teasing across practice rooms… but this?

This uniformed, serious, clean-cut version of him?

It wrecked her.

The way the military fatigues hugged his frame should've been a crime.

The standard-issue belt cinched his already tiny waist, the sleeves just barely pushed up enough to expose those forearms— those forearms, slightly tanned and taut from weeks of outdoor drills.

Even from this distance, she could see the way he carried himself.

Regal. Effortless. Shoulders squared, spine tall, chin slightly lifted like he was born for this.

And then his face… God, his face-stoic and expressionless, and yet she swore he still looked like he was plotting something.

Like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on her.

And he hadn't even seen her yet.

She knew she wasn't supposed to be staring this hard.

The ceremony was still going. Someone was giving a speech she could hear the vague, muffled cadence of words echoing through the speakers.

Something about pride. Loyalty. Service. But Luna? Luna wasn't processing a single syllable.

It was all white noise behind the hum of blood in her ears and the sight of Jeonghan standing still, looking like he walked straight out of a fever dream in camo print.

He didn't stand out because she recognized him.

Not because he was her fiancé.

Not even because he was a well-known idol with a face that had graced billboards across the globe.

No.

He stood out because he was Yoon Jeonghan.

Because even if she hadn't known him, had never laid eyes on him before in her life, her gaze still would've found him. Her breath still would've caught. Something in her chest still would've paused, some ancient instinct whispering, There. That one. Him.

And oh, has she talked about the way he wore that uniform yet? (yes she has). She'd been teasing him for weeks over the phone, threatening to steal his uniform and wear it herself just to see his reaction. But now that she saw it in real life, tight in all the right places, slightly wrinkled at the waist, with his name embroidered neatly over his heart?

She didn't want to wear it.

She wanted him to wear it while standing between her legs with that exact same unreadable expression, only this time in her bedroom.

Woah… what?!

Luna let out a slow, silent exhale, blinking as if that would calm her thoughts. It didn't. She folded her arms and subtly pressed her thighs together.

God help her, she was having unholy thoughts in a military base.

She looked back at him, smiling softly, head tilted as she watched his jaw flex slightly while standing at attention.

He looked grown. He looked… strong.

And still, even beneath all that discipline and formality, she could see him, her Jeonghan, the one who pulled her into bed by her ankles, who always had a smug comment ready, who pressed kisses to the inside of her wrist when he thought she wasn't paying attention.

Luna was sure she had heart-eyes.

She must've been staring too hard. She knew she was.

The kind of stare that could set skin on fire, the kind of gaze that carved tunnels through distance and reason and logic because suddenly, impossibly, Jeonghan turned his head.

Right there, in the middle of formal military formation, as uniformed men stood stock-still in proud discipline with heads facing forward and backs ramrod straight, he turned his head.

And looked straight at her.

For a second, Luna's breath caught mid-inhale. Her body went rigid, the sound of the ceremony dulling beneath the roar in her ears.

Jeonghan didn't flinch. He didn't smile. Not right away.

He stared. Just stared.

And then, the corners of his eyes crinkled, barely perceptible, just enough for her to see.

A double take.

Subtle. Too quick for anyone else to catch— anyone but her. Because she knew every micro-expression etched onto that face like the back of her hand. She saw it.

First the stillness.

Then the slight flicker of disbelief behind his dark eyes. Then-

A twitch of his brow.

A small, slow widening of his eyes. Not by much, not enough for the stern commander two rows ahead of him to notice.

But Luna caught it. Luna felt it.

And then… there it was.

That smirk.

That trademark, godforsaken, infuriating Jeonghan smirk— lazy and lopsided, smug and amused, like he'd just caught the biggest secret in the room and tucked it under his tongue to chew on later.

His eyes didn't linger. He didn't gawk. He looked, smirked, and then turned his head back forward, shoulders still as ever, the corners of his mouth threatening rebellion even as the ceremony continued around him.

But his mood had shifted.

She saw it.

His whole posture had lightened. His shoulders rolled back more confidently. His chin tilted up just slightly. He looked taller. He looked pleased.

And even from where she sat, Luna could feel it, that familiar current of mischief crackling just beneath his skin. The one that meant he'd seen her, clocked her presence, and now planned to torment her with it in the most excruciating, unspoken ways until the moment they were alone again.

And Luna?

Luna almost melted into a goddamn puddle right there in her seat.

She felt her knees buckle even though she was sitting down. Her palms went clammy where they rested on her thighs, her perfectly-manicured nails now lightly indenting the soft fabric of her pants. Her throat constricted, mouth parting just slightly as her stomach did a violent somersault, like her body was fourteen again and her crush just called her pretty in the school hallway.

Her entire body buzzed with the weight of that look, like it had tunneled through her bones and planted itself somewhere near her spine.

She could hear her own heartbeat.

Goddamn him, Luna thought, eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to cool the blush creeping up her neck. She pressed her lips together, trying to fight the stupid grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. She even turned slightly away, burying her face halfway in her hand under the guise of adjusting her sunglasses on top of her head.

It was so stupid. So ridiculous.

But he always did this to her.

Only he could do this to her.

Because Luna, the Luna— top idol, composed, confident, always unbothered, was blushing like an idiot in public because her fiancé smirked at her. Because he saw her, like he always did, like he always would. And worse, he knew what it did to her. He could read her fluster like a goddamn map.

Luna exhaled slowly through her nose, shaking her head with a tiny, breathless laugh as she pulled herself together.

No one would know. No one saw that. That was between them.

But inside?

Inside she was screaming. Kicking her feet. Blushing down to her soul.

Yoon Jeonghan was the only person on earth who could make Luna feel like this.

And the worst part?

He absolutely knew it.

The ceremony continued, but for Luna, everything blurred at the edges.

She heard the voices of the commanding officers, distant and muffled, as though underwater. The echo of a patriotic speech rippled through the speakers, and everyone around her politely nodded, clapped, stood on cue. But Luna didn't move. Her hands were folded on her lap, her sunglasses still perched on top of her head, and her entire body tilted forward ever so slightly as her eyes stayed rooted on one person only.

Yoon Jeonghan.

Everything else faded. The banners, the salutes, the line of soldiers standing proud with their chin high and boots aligned to exact angles— it was all background noise to her. The sounds, the ceremony, even the scorching sun overhead-they were like static behind a single clear radio frequency locked on Jeonghan.

She admired how still he stood, how confident he looked in uniform, how the rigid posture suited him in a way that somehow still whispered of his playful nature. She had half the mind to laugh. How could a man in strict military attire still look like he was plotting something mischievous behind his eyes?

With a final salute and a crisp bow to the national flag, the ceremony officially ended.

Just before the chairs around them scraped and the rustling of families preparing to head down began, a tall figure in uniform approached them discreetly. He was a senior officer, lean and polite with a neutral face that softened slightly as he addressed them.

"Ma’am," he said with a quiet nod, eyes flicking to the two managers beside her. "We've been instructed to escort you to Private Yoon before the crowd goes down the field. It'll be less chaotic that way."

Luna blinked, straightening in her seat. She could feel her heart hammering.

"Right now?" she asked, rising slowly, brushing invisible wrinkles off her pants.

The senior officer gave a curt, respectful nod. "Please follow me. He's still in formation, but we'll intercept him quietly before the families approach."

Jeonghan's manager exchanged a quick glance with hers and offered a small smile. "Let's go," he said, nudging his head slightly for her to follow the officer.

Luna didn't need to be told twice.

She stood up, slid her sunglasses back over her eyes and began walking, her heeled boots clicking lightly against the pavement. Her pace was steady, her expression composed, but inside, anticipation pulsed like an electric current.

They followed the officer as he made his way across the small barricade and onto the side of the field, where the line of graduating soldiers remained standing in their rows.

As they reached the edge, the officer turned his head and called, firm but quiet, "Private Yoon."

Jeonghan, still standing in line, turned his head slightly at the sound of his name. His brow quirked in that familiar, instinctive way, curious, calculating, aware. His eyes scanned across the field, and then landed on her.

Luna.

Walking toward him.

Even with the sunlight behind her and the sunglasses obscuring half her face, he knew. The way his mouth twitched was all the confirmation she needed— he'd understood immediately.

Jeonghan's head dipped briefly in acknowledgment to the officer before he pivoted from his position, stepping out of formation with precise steps that somehow still looked relaxed. His walk was smooth, purposeful, confident, and as he made his way toward the back of the field, his gaze barely flickered from Luna's direction.

And hers, from his.

They were walking towards each other now. One measured step after another. It wasn't fast. It wasn't frantic. But the air between them thickened like it was laced with something electric, something magnetic, pulling them closer with every passing second.

And then…

At the far back of the field, where the crowd thinned and trees cast narrow strips of shade, Jeonghan veered right. It was quiet there. The kind of quiet they needed.

Luna didn't wait another second.

She jogged.

Boots clicking faster now, hair bouncing behind her, her grin uncontrollable and wide, she sprinted the remaining steps toward him, and when she reached him, she jumped.

"God, I missed you," she breathed with a giddy laugh as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Jeonghan caught her in one swift motion, his arm automatically slipping beneath her thighs, scooping her up like she weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop walking. Just kept moving, like carrying her was second nature, like she belonged there, with her body curled around his.

Luna giggled again, the kind that trembled slightly from relief and joy and disbelief. Her face tucked into the crook of his neck, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, as if grounding herself in the fact that he was here and she was here and this wasn't a dream.

And Jeonghan?

He was smiling. Wide. Proud. Radiant.

Like she was the only person in the world that mattered.

Like this— her in his arms-was his prize for surviving the four hardest weeks of his life.

People were pointing. Filming. Whispering. Some were already reaching for their phones. And both of them saw it.

And neither of them gave a single damn.

Because when it came to moments like this, everything else faded.

All they saw was each other.

Once they reached the end and once the two sasaengs who unbeknownst to them had managed to sneak and follow after them were finally intercepted and escorted away by security— kicking, complaining, lenses still clicking in desperate vain, Jeonghan gently set Luna down onto her feet.

It wasn't particularly graceful. His arms lingered a second too long around her waist, and hers curled just a bit tighter around his shoulders before slipping down. There was a subtle hesitation in letting go, like gravity itself was annoyed at being reunited with them.

When Luna looked up at him, her smile was soft, but undeniable. The kind of smile that made breathing a little harder for whoever it was directed at. "Hello," she said quietly, brushing invisible lint off his chest, her fingers trailing just a little longer than they needed to.

Jeonghan's mouth pulled into that smirk, the one she'd recognize with her eyes closed, the one that warned trouble, flirtation, and safety all in the same breath. "Hi."

They stood close. Too close for public decency but far too far for the ache in their chests.

Luna's hands drifted up to his uniform without thinking, smoothing the slightly crooked edge of his collar, flattening the fabric over his chest. Her fingertips grazed the edge of the name tag, her thumb brushing the curve of the his embroidered name. She adjusted his beret next with delicate precision, even though it was perfectly fine.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan's hand moved with idle care along her arm, stroking up and down from wrist to elbow like he couldn't help himself. The pad of his thumb skimmed the sensitive skin just above her elbow, and he leaned in slightly, breath fanning the edge of her hair as his eyes drank her in up close.

"Sneaky girl," he murmured, tugging his beret off entirely and raking a hand through the minimal length of his buzzed hair. "You always surprise me when I least expect it."

Luna smiled, slow and teasing, head tilted as she let her gaze trace the slope of his jaw. "And yet somehow you still act like you knew I'd be here."

"I didn't." He grinned. "But now I'm wondering if I manifested it."

She blinked, one brow raised. "You manifest me a lot, huh?"

"Only every night."

She chuckled, biting her lip. Her hands, traitorous and sure, slid down from his collar and rested over his chest. "You look good, soldier."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow and stepped closer, so close that the edge of her heels bumped the toes of his boots. "Yeah? You into this, Nana-ya?”

"I won't lie," she said, glancing at the collar again, then letting her eyes trail a little lower. "It's… doing… things."

"Good things?"

"Dangerous things."

His smirk stretched wider. "Should I keep it on later, then?"

"Only if you're okay with me taking it off."

"Oh, I was counting on that, baby."

A beat.

The kind of silence where everything else around them dimmed. A bird chirped somewhere. A camera clicked somewhere. Neither noticed. Neither would care.

They stared at each other.

Jeonghan's eyes dropped to her lips. Luna tilted her chin up, ever so slightly.

"Did you miss me?" she asked, voice soft but steady, like the question had been clawing at her throat for weeks and she'd only now let it free.

Jeonghan didn't speak. He didn't have to. He reached forward and caught her wrist in his hand, pulling her into him, close enough for her perfume to invade what little space he had left for air.

"Every second," he said lowly, eyes serious now, intense, fond. "I don't even know how I survived it."

"Four weeks," she whispered, her palm now flat against the firm rise of his chest. "I almost went insane, Jeongie.”

He grinned, playful again, like it had never left. "Did you cry?"

"I had wine."

"Same thing."

She laughed, bumping her forehead gently against his in affection, the moment so utterly theirs that it didn't matter the faint murmurs behind the fences or the guards pacing nearby.

"You're so annoying," she mumbled.

"You love it."

"I really, really do."

Then he kissed her.

There wasn't a countdown. There wasn't hesitation.

Just him leaning down and her rising up on her toes. His hand cradled the back of her head with such care it made her knees weak, while her fingers clutched at his collar, his chest, anything to ground herself as their lips met with the force of everything they hadn't said the past month.

It was slow and unhurried. But deliberate. Thorough.

The kind of kiss that says I missed you so much I almost lost my mind.

The kind of kiss that says You're home.

And nothing else existed.

Not the soldiers breaking formation in the distance.

Not the reporters being escorted further off.

Not the families and visitors running to greet their love ones.

Not the ache in Jeonghan's back or the jetlag in Luna's bones.

Just them— back in their orbit.

Eventually, when they pulled apart, breaths short and foreheads still resting together, Jeonghan sighed as though releasing the final weight of the last four weeks. His hand dropped to her waist and gave it a soft squeeze, grounding them.

"You're real," he murmured.

"You're sweaty," she murmured back.

He grinned. "Still turned on though?"

She rolled her eyes with a laugh, smacking his chest, but didn't step away. Instead, she reached up again and gently tucked back a strand of her own hair that had caught between them, only for Jeonghan to beat her to it, brushing it behind her ear and letting his fingers trail down the side of her neck.

"You like the buzz?" he asked, wiggling his brows.

"I'm… getting used to it," she admitted. "You're lucky your face is still handsome."

"Only still?"

"I'll give it a nine. Out of ten."

He scoffed, dramatically offended. "Jiyeonie."

"Okay, okay. Fine. An eleven."

Jeonghan leaned in, nose brushing hers. "Better."

"I'll shave your eyebrows next time though, just to test the limits… to see if your beauty will withstand.” Luna teased with a smirk.

"I'll marry you either way."

That made her pause, biting back the grin that threatened to consume her entire face. She blinked up at him, expression soft and betraying just how ruined she was by his easy charm.

"Yoon Jeonghan."

"Yes?"

"Stop flirting or I'll kiss you again."

"Not exactly the punishment you think it is."

And Luna did kiss him again— short, snappy, a soft peck to shut him up. She pulled back just as his hands gripped at her sides tighter like he didn't want to let her go.

"God, I missed you," he said again, breathless this time.

Before Luna could respond, Jeonghan’s manager stepped in with a slightly sheepish cough. "Sorry to interrupt the early honeymoon, but we've been told it's time to head out."

Jeonghan playfully groaned and joked. "One more minute."

Luna chuckled, brushing his hand but intertwining her fingers with his. "We'll make up for it later."

"Promise?" he asked, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

She smirked. "Better keep that uniform on just in case."

And with that, fingers still laced and grins still lingering, they followed their managers back toward the waiting van, the sounds of the crowd behind them faded into nothing more than a distant hum, as if the world had the decency to quiet down just for them.

Jeonghan’s grip on her hand stayed firm, his thumb brushing softly along her knuckles, while Luna leaned into his side like her body knew exactly where it belonged. Every step they took was unhurried, like neither of them was in any rush to let the moment go. Her head tilted gently toward his shoulder, and his chin rested briefly atop her hair.

It was nothing grand or dramatic— just the quiet, comforting rhythm of two people slipping back into each other like no time had passed at all.

And as they disappeared behind the tinted doors, the last glimpse of them was simple… a boy in uniform, and the girl who crossed oceans and showed up just to remind him he was always worth waiting for and that he was loved in every version, in every season, and in every wait.

[part two: the smut aftermath - coming soon !]

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bernardsbendystraws · 5 months ago

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𝑶𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆

Headcannons with Obsessive!Matt and Doll!Reader. Read at your own discretion - includes SFW and NSFW.

01: Following you like a lost puppy…

Matt can’t help it. He's addicted to the way you breathe practically. The scent that flows from your hair is intoxicating, the feeling of your soft skin on his lips always so hypnotizing.

Your hair is bouncing with each step as you walk around the kitchen. Matt can’t help but get distracted with the emails he was supposed to be replying to, especially when he sees you walk to the hallway, your body disappearing past the corner. “Baby?” he questions, not wasting a second before screeching the chair backward, using a slight jog to catch up to you.

You laugh while laying your hand on the knob - the bathroom door. “Matt, I’m just gonna do my skincare, I’ll be back out in a couple minutes,” you laugh, walking in and starting to pile products from the drawer out onto the counter.

Matt doesn’t care. He shakes his head, waltzing into the bathroom and leaning his head down on your shoulder, his hands wrapping lowly around your hips. “Can I watch?” he asks.

You know he’s serious. Even though it’s the same routine he’s watched countless times, he always wants to stand behind you, complimenting you as he stares at you taking care of yourself - a task that makes him so utterly content.

02: Can’t seem to care as long as he has you…

Social anxiety was something the two of you had bonded over, neither of you were very content with the idea of PDA to begin with, but Matt couldn’t seem to care about what others thought sometimes. He just wanted to touch you. It felt like a burden to hold himself back, he couldn’t help but let everything else fade away while he focused on showering you with love.

The conversation had been humming in his ears. He was only directing his attention to how soft your hand felt in his, kissing along your knuckles as his heart swelled with anticipation from the sheer thought of going home, having you all to himself.

“Matt,” you laugh, nudging him with an uncomfortable laugh.

You love how much he craves you, but the thought of everyone seeing such an intimate act is making your chest thump with a harsh drum.

Pouting, he spares one last kiss before setting your hand down, still holding onto it tightly as he starts to trace shapes on the back of your palm. “-’m sorry, Doll. I just…can’t help it sometimes,” he sighs.

He looks up at you with a sullen expression. You spare him a sympathetic smile, leaning and pressing a kiss to his cheek - an act of affection that makes his face curl with a grin.

“We’ll go home soon, then I’m all yours, okay?” you blush, the slight stain of your lip gloss on his cheek reminding you of the unfamiliar action that you had compulsively acted on. He just looked so…cute. You want him to know you appreciate him, you want him to feel your love too.

Matt sighs, licking over his lips as his eyes sparkle with excitement. “Okay.” he breathes, his cheeks flushing as he thinks of being alone with you, having you all to himself. He can’t seem to care about the rest of the conversation, all he can focus on is how bad he misses giving you his affection.

03: He wants to hold you anyway he can…

Being as close as possible calms something untouchable within him. Matt needs to feel your skin on his, but he wants to know you feel safe and secure. The bedroom is no different. No matter what position or pace, he’s always holding you.

“Fuckkkk, that’s it - good fuckin’ girl, I - mmmm,” he hums, cradling the back of your head as he pulls you into the crook of his neck. His body hovers over yours in missionary, your thighs quivering as he plunges himself inside of you over and over again, his lips falling open with a rough groan as he feels your warmth suck him in deep.

Your hands claw at his back, the overwhelming sensation of euphoria building in your gut makes your body writhe, your moans and warm breath fanning across his neck as he keeps a steady rhythm.

“Matt - m - ‘m gon - close…”

He knows what you’re trying to say. Your walls are pulsing around his length, each thrust getting harder to pull out as you nearly trap him inside of you.

“Shit,” he whines as you start to cry out, the high washing over you feeling so immensely pleasurable, so inescapable. “-keep suckin’ me in - justttt like that, just like that,” he husks, his fingers massaging into your scalp as he feels your nails scratch against his shoulders, the loud cry pursing through your lips swelling him with pride as he comforts you through the high.

It feels so good to be so close.

It may be obsessive, but it’s love.

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hanasnx · 9 months ago

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“ I CAN FEEL IT, CAN YOU FEEL IT, THERE MUST BE SOMETHING IN THE AIR ” — rafe cameron.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: kinktober; takes place in obx s4 e1 but there’s a slight change; also happy birthday @princessbrunette :) i wrote this for you in mind; and based off of the scene in f&f where dom picks letty up calling her his trophy. WARNINGS: spoiler warning for obx season 4 episode 1 ノ non canon compliant: i made rafe win the race ノ size difference ノ established relationship ノ objectification ノ impact play: ass smack ノ mild exhibitionism bcos of pda ノ praise ノ sexual content: p in v stuff ノ dirty talk.

Your feet sink into the sand as you traipse alongside RAFE CAMERON to his station in the race. His large hand envelopes yours, keeping you balanced as he leads you to his bike. The roar of revving fills your ears, loud enough for your boyfriend to have to lean down to your level to speak to you, walking you through the process and your role here. You’ve never been a flag girl before, but he told you she needs to be a “hot piece of ass” and he wants these boys heads still spinning when he wins the race. As a distraction, you were the only girl he wanted for the job.

“… and all you gotta do, baby, is make sure those guys are lookin’ at you. Show off a little something—just this once, I don’t care.” he explains, and you nod your head while brushing your hair out of your face from the wind. The two of you stand aside his bike and he mounts it, swinging a long leg over it. It creaks from his weight, and you roll your tongue between your lips. Without sunglasses, his gaze is narrowed, meeting yours in the light as he tugs you closer to him. “You look good. Prettiest girl on Figure Eight.” he assures you, the corner of his lips quirked as he checks you out. The tiniest booty shorts you could find and a stringy bikini top, you looked good enough to eat. If Rafe wasn’t so concerned with crossing the finish line while these cucks were still drooling over you, he’d be a little jealous they get such a treat. “Man, you are eye candy. Give me a twirl, c’mon.”

It eases your nerves, grinning bashfully to yourself as he raises your hand over your head, twisting on your toes to show him your outfit. He bites his lower lip hard at the sight of the underside of your ass hanging out of your shorts, and he can’t help but give you a tap. You whirl around from the swat, and catch his eyes flash up.

“Mm, baby.” he exclaims, talking about you like you’re dessert and he’s got a sweet tooth. He doesn’t give you a chance to scold him for smacking your ass around all these people, “C’mere,” he murmurs, yanking you to him until your body is draped over him on his bike. Your manicured nails brace on his chest while he steals a kiss, humming in surprise at him when he tilts his head to deepen it. Takes advantage of your parted lips to slide his tongue along yours in a proper good-luck-kiss, which only makes for a string of spit to connect the two of you when you part. You breathe hard, chest rising and falling from thrill as you search his expression. There’s a glow of love-sickness in his eyes.

You try to milk more attention. “I don’t know if I can…” you begin, alluding to how shy you’re gonna be in front of all these people.

“Oh, don’t start that shit, you’re gonna be fine.” he dismisses, seeing right through you and shrugging you off him so you get it’s time to stop being clingy. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” He plucks his helmet up, and rounds his body to place it on his head while you reluctantly leave him.

When it’s time to start the race, you hold up two bandanas—donated by some guys trying to buy you drinks—and Rafe scoffs to himself, patting himself on the back for being such a genius. “Who wouldn’t be lookin’ at you?” he thinks, while he revs his bike. You even give the crowd a little shake, your girls strapped in your bikini top swinging teasingly right before you set them off with the bow of your bandanas and the low dip of your arch. Rafe could’ve sworn one guy glanced over his shoulder to check out your ass bent over because he lost control of his steering for a second after. The race was on, and you did your job exactly how your boyfriend wanted you to.

Some kook with too much time on his hands made his way through the crowd to invite himself into your atmosphere, watching you as you eagerly await Rafe’s return and your signal to drop the flags for the winner.

A voice too close to your ear alerts you, resulting in a minute jolt of your body when he speaks. “What are you doing after this?”

Brows furrow as you glance over your shoulder at him, “Oh, uh, I dunno right now.” you reply, but you’re not showing interest. It would depend on Rafe’s victory. You refocus, keeping an eye on the horizon and the roaring metal of competitive bikes. Rejoining the crowd’s enthusiasm, you react with them when someone wipes out.

“Me and the boys were gonna head to a kegger in the boneyard. You should come.” he tells you. Again, too close for your liking. He’s not particularly bad-looking, or grabby, but you don’t like how he’s standing right next to you and stooping to speak in your ear.

You face him again to respond, but the race takes your attention away, shutting your mouth to whirl around just in time to see Rafe drive back into view, sand kicking up behind his wheel.

After a close call, he wins, and when it’s safe, the adoring crowd cheers as it floods the scene to congratulate the riders. You’re one of them, beelining to Rafe without a second thought. He’s discarded his helmet, tossing it haphazardly to the sand as he meets you.

“Ah, there’s my trophy.” he says, hands clamping onto your waist to lift you from the ground. You squeal with delight, bracing on his shoulders and kicking your feet up. Slowly he lowers you until you can wrap your arms around his neck. He’s hot and sweaty, and smells like it too, inhaling his scent deeply as you embrace him and he spins you around. You’ve completely forgotten about that kook you left behind.

“Did so good, precious, did exactly what I told you to.” Rafe murmurs against your lips, whipping his bike jacket off behind him while you lead him by his jaw deeper into his place.

“Mhm, had to give them a show. Like you said.” you exhale, nodding fervently as you press yourself to him, desperate for some friction.

“Didn’t I say you’d be fine? Huh? What’d I say?” he goads, and stoops, signaling you to jump into his arms. He catches your legs, securing them around his waist before his hand cups your backside and his other pins you to him by the back of your neck.

“I did so good!” you reply, a little perkier than you’d meant to. It breaks him out into a grin against you, and he snickers through his nose. Bringing you to his bedroom, he settles your back onto the bed.

Lips locked, and bodies tangling together, he struggles to find a spare second to keep talking, “Gonna give me my prize? You gonna put out for the winner?” His hips surge, and a familiar hard outline sweeps across the crotch of your denim.

You nod, poking your tongue out in concentration as you help him to undress fully, and you wiggle out of your booty shorts. The peek of your tongue doesn’t go unnoticed, and Rafe’s lips overlays yours, sucking on the pink tip there toyingly. You relax into it, untensing them to melt into a real kiss as the tip of something else nudges against your sex. Already wet and aching from all the teasing today, you go limp at the promise of what’s to come. Bulging mushroom head lazily thumbing in and out of your slit makes your head throw back and jerk. “Rafe…” you whine. Sodden lips mouth at your cheek and jaw, working their way down to make out with your neck as his hips shallowly rut.

Ringed fingers clutch your face, tucking your chin in the web of his index and thumb. It faces you to him, and you look up at him with doe eyes and pretty brows in an upturn. He wants to watch your reactions as he pushes in deeper and deeper, finally sheathing as you cry out. It’s a stingy stretch, and he can see your want for it in the roll of your eyes and the flinch of your delicate expression. “Yeah, baby, gimme that trophy. That’s right.”

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