#They Got Eyes That Sparkle and Look Just Big Enough to be Adorable
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stupidvillainousposts · 2 months ago
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Pretty often, actually. Every other adult sees them and automatically assumes they're just cute 10-year-olds who like to dress up like puppies.
When they find out who the pups are related to, though, most if not all of the people they meet try to keep a good distance from them.
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fairyofshampgyu · 1 month ago
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☆ Drive you mad !
genre: racer au, smut, e2l, rivals , crack
Pairings: sub ! race car driver ! beomgyu x dom ! gn race car driver reader (afab when comes to smut)
Warnings: kinda public sex, bratty beomgyu, sub beomgyu, grinding/palming, edging, creampie, riding, hand job, degrading, sex in a car, clubbing, alcohol, hair pulling, tit sucking, use of names ‘good boy’, ‘whore’
Word count: 4.7k
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The engine roars in your ears as you bolt across the finish line, your car skidding and screeching to a halt. The cheers and claps of the crowd rise to an almost deafening crescendo, and you grip the steering wheel tight with furrowed brows, being able to feel how sweaty your forehead had become, adrenaline still surging through your veins as you pant heavily. A quick glance at the leaderboard tells you the result:
Second. Fucking. Place.
You grit your teeth, rather aggressively slamming the door shut, and getting out of the car. Yanking off your helmet, you storm over to where Kang Taehyun, your ever-calm, teammate, was leaning casually against the pit wall, sipping on his water bottle from the last round he had just raced himself. You on the other hand, are seconds away from combusting.
“Fuck him.” You seethe and grumble, arms crossed as both of your gazes switch to focus on Choi Beomgyu in the centre, soaking up the spotlight a few metres away, gesturing animatedly for the cameras with sparkling eyes, a stupid smirk and very satisifed look on his face as he tucked his helmet under one arm. He’s surrounded and swarmed by reporters with god knows how many microphones shoved in his face who hang onto his every single word like he was some goddamn deity.
He basks in it, always loved the attention. You wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to win every race solely for the purpose of being met with cameras and praises at the end. It’s like he got off on that shit. Attention seeker.
“What a fucking nepo baby.” You scoff and taehyun laughs, always amused for your hate towards Choi Beomgyu. But it was true, he was only here because his father was a famous legendary racer back in the day, his racing career practically gift wrapped by him at a young age. Choi Beomgyu had everything handed to him on a silver platter whilst you had to claw your way through to get where you are now. But, it seems to be that you’re the only one who has a problem with him. Everyone else adores him, the 'golden boy'.
“Oh—hehe. Stop it. Thank you! Yeah, honestly it’s all about hard work.” You hear him gush and chuckle in faux shyness and humbleness, waving his hand dismissively, eyes shaped into little crescent moons and running a hand through his long soft brown hair. “But I don’t think I’m that good personally heh.”
You can’t help how hard your eyes roll at that, muttering more insults under your breath only taehyun can hear who's certainly more than entertained. “Hardwork, my ass. His daddy got him connections and sponsorships, that’s why. He thinks he can just waltz in with that stupid smile and—oh my god, he’s winking at me. I’m going to fucking kill him.”
Sure enough, Beomgyu catches your eye roll and winks your way before saying something to the reporters that makes them hysterically laugh. The audacity. You have half the mind of walking over there and strangling him right in front of the cameras. That surely wouldn’t end your career right? Or worse yet, put you in prison.
As the crowd around him finally disperses and fizzles out, Beomgyu confidently saunters over to you and taehyun, helmet still tucked under his arm and still grinning annoyingly.
“Oh no.” Taehyun chuckles, throwing a knowing look your way and nodding to the direction of beomgyu, “Incoming.”
“Fuck my life.” You mutter, taking a big breath in, bracing yourself for the worst.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favourite fan.” Beomgyu’s grin widens as he reaches you, snickering. He ignores your scoff in return, turning to taehyun instead with a smile and clapping his back. “Hey, Tae. Drinks after this? A bunch of us are going.”
“Yeah, I’m in. Congrats on first place today by the way.” Taehyun replies giving him a bro hug. To this day, you still can’t understand how taehyun can stand him. But Beomgyu has a lot of friends, and like you said, you really are the only one who dislikes him.
“How can you even hang out with him?” You make the most disgusted face you can muster towards Beomgyu to show the pure utter hatred you feel to him.
Beomgyu practically puffs out his chest, already expecting to be backed up and stood up against by taehyun.
Taehyun shrugs, “He grows on you. I guess.”
“Yeah, like a nasty mould.”
Beomgyu deflates, taking great offence, mouth hanging open and frowning, pouting at the both of you now laughing and high-fiving each other.
Beomgyu’s intense gaze then returns back to you. Taehyun, addressing the situation, and knowing how both your bantering can escalate, sees it’s best to leave, walking away to leave you alone with the cockroach. “Right, so as entertaining as this has been, I’m going to go now…preferably anywhere else...”
“What about you, y/n? No congratulations?” Beomgyu mocks and sighs boastfully once Taehyun has left. His voice dripping with that sickeningly playful lilt that always makes your blood boil. “No heartfelt speech on how I inspire you to be better? But hey, second place isn’t so bad.”
You narrow your eyes, standing up straight. “You won by, like,” you scoff, “a millisecond at best. Don’t get all cocky. It was just pure luck.”
He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you. “Oh, come on, I didn’t think you were such a sore loser. It’s called strategy.”
“Strategy?” you repeat incredulously, “The only strategy you have is relying on your last name to get you ahead.”
“God, you’re still on that? I feel like you’re just using that as an excuse to use still. Just admit I’m as good as you. Better, even. I’ve won one more race than you now~”
The two of you kept a tally of how many races you both have won, you’ve had the same exact score as him for ages now, obviously, not anymore. But you’ll win next time, just he waits.
He takes a step closer to you, waiting and expecting you to make a snarky comeback at him like you always do as you angrily stare him down and he does the same.
For a second, just one second, your eyes flicker down to his lips and suddenly, you’re brought back to an incident that occurred a few months ago. A memory you’ve tried—and failed—to forget.
There is one thing you’ve never told anyone about. Not your teammates, not taehyun, and that is when you, of all people, made out with Choi Beomgyu one awfully unlucky night.
⸝⸝
THE SAID AWFULLY UNLUCKY NIGHT YOU AND CHOI BEOMGYU MADE OUT:
The nightclub was packed with racers, sponsors, and fans celebrating the after party of a big end of season race, air heavy with the scent of alcohol and sweat. You nursed your drink, leaning against the bar.
Of course, Beomgyu was at the centre of the dance floor, surrounded by a group of admirers, his laughter ringing out over the music. He was never hard to spot, the centre of attention always.
"Ugh," you muttered under your breath, taking another sip of your drink.
“And you’re still staring?” Taehyun had teased, sitting beside you.
"I’m not staring.” You snapped, rolling your eyes. "I’m wondering how he manages to be so insufferable and stupid all the time."
“Sure,” Taehyun stifles a laugh, raising his glass to you. “Just don’t kill each other before the next race.”
You down the last of your drink, slamming it on the bar counter and ordering another, “Can’t promise that.”
The rest of the night is a blur to you. Too many drinks, too many spinning lights, and far too much proximity to Beomgyu.
You’re not one to get shitfaced drunk. You prefer the comfortable state of slight tipsiness and anything other than that is not fun for you, because why would someone want to be so drunk off their ass to the point of throwing up and not being aware of their surroundings? Usually, you’d chastise people like that, wondering how they can’t even manage how much they drink. But on that night, you’d had one too many to count, you were drunk, too drunk. Not the comfortable tipsiness that you’re used to.
You know that at one point, either you or Beomgyu had come up to the other and the normal bickering had ensued. You know he was just as drunk as you so whatever you both were arguing about probably made no sense at all.
What you do remember though was looking at him, really looking at him, in the shifting, almost epileptic lights of the club.
How big and brown his eyes were, how long and thick his eyelashes were and how they fluttered like a doll every time he blinked. How plump and pouty his lips were, especially now that he was drunk, he just kept on pouting his lips and his cheeks were flushed all rosy from all the alcohol he’d had. His long wolfcut was messy by now, bangs falling into his eyes.
He looked different that night, too. Not the usual racing suit and helmet, but a stylish black suit with his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a silver necklace glinting against his skin.
All in all, beomgyu was a pretty boy. You get why he had a lot of fans.
He was still going on about something to you, slurring his words, probably insulting you, and the only logical solution to shut him up in your inebriated state at that moment, was to kiss his pouty lips. Luckily, you both were at the very corner of the nightclub shrouded in darkness, everyone else too busy dancing and whatnot to see you both.
You remember him gasping when you grabbed the collar of his black shirt, yanking him down and pressing your lips aggressively against his, but he kissed you back almost instantly, without a second thought.
You weren’t very gentle with him, pushing him forcefully against the wall even further and tugging at his necklace. The way you were making out with him was just pouring out all your anger you’ve felt towards him for years. But, he just let you. He let you do anything to him and you were surprised, so different to the cocky and confident beomgyu you knew. And that sheer control he let you have over him for once felt so good, you didn’t want to stop.
That, and the fact Choi Beomgyu was also just really good at kissing, he made it so difficult to pull away at all, lips so soft and plump and addictive, making you want more and more and more.
But, you never spoke an utterance of it afterwards, he never brought it up, neither did you. And honestly, it felt so surreal, making out with the Choi Beomgyu, the one who you no doubtedly hate his guts and him kissing you back so pliantly? You’d believe it more if it was all just a hallucination. You were so drunk you wouldn’t be surprised if you made it all up, dreamt it even. Maybe it was someone else you made out with and you were so drunk you can’t remember. It’d make more sense than Choi Beomgyu.
Although, you do find yourself thinking about the makeout session often times than not, his lips on yours just felt so good. Too good. It was like, the best makeout you’ve had in your life and you curse it for being him. Why he had to be the one whose lips you still thought about? you don’t know. You’re certain he had forgotten and you wish you could have just like he seemed to.
But anyway, fuck that and fuck him.
⸝⸝
"What? Cat got your tongue?" Beomgyu is still sneering at you, awaiting your comeback but you can’t think well at the moment.
Your face heats, and you shove past him. “Go to hell, Choi.”
And his laughter follows behind you as you walk away. Oh, how he infuriates you.
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You have one goal: beat Choi Beomgyu. Today is the day you finally get to race against him again. He’d held that last victory over your head, taunting you endlessly, with that invigorating, stupid smirk of his and you’d had more than enough. Today was your chance to shut him up and kick his ass. You’ll put him in his place and win. You’d been waiting for this.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another thrilling showdown! All eyes are on the two front runners y/n and Choi Beomgyu. These rivals have been neck and neck all season. Beomgyu won the last race but will he win again? Will today decide who’s truly on top?” The commentator’s voices boom over the loudspeakers.
The flagman waves the green flag, you slam on the gas pedal and you’re off, surging forward.
It wasn’t an easy race, beomgyu seemed motivated to win too. He was always either just ahead or just behind, not far enough for it be satisfactory, but nail bitingly tense, as anything could happen any moment. And right now, ahead, just barely, was him, blocking every attempt you made to overtake him.
“Y/n’s looking for an opening,” the commentators shout. “But Beomgyu’s defensive driving is flawless so far. Look at that precision!”
Loud noises of the engines are all you can hear, filling your ears as you manoeuvre around sharp turns, tires screeching against the asphalt. The laps all blur together but you’re nearing the end now.
You managed to get alongside him on the straight, your cars almost touching, crowd going wild as you both enter the next corner side by side, dangerously close.
“Neither driving is moving an inch!”
Suddenly, beomgyu’s car swerves towards yours, bumping and hitting at yours with such force, a dirty, blatant attempt at running you off the track and then he overtakes you. You gasp, fighting to stabilise your car, narrowly avoiding a spin. That was a new low, even for Choi Beomgyu. He’d never cheated like that before and you’re absolutely enraged.
The final lap is chaos, the audience on their feet now. You’re so incredibly angry, but you can’t let that get to you and hinder your focus, you clench your teeth, gripping your steering wheel so tight your knuckles are white, you’re even more determined to win than before.
The last stretch looms ahead and he’s just razor thin ahead of you, in the last second, you see your opening. Beomgyu had oversteered slightly on the turn, just enough for you to slip past him, you speed ahead.
“AND Y/N TAKES THE WIN IN A SPECTACULAR FINISH! THEY’VE DONE IT! WHAT A RACE!”
You crossed the line first. By a hair.
Everyone erupts, but your satisfaction is short-lived. Beomgyu’s cheating had completely soured your victory. The fucking nerve of him.
You barely register the reporters swarming you, bombarding your face with microphones. “Y/n! how does it feel to take first place?!”
“An incredible performance today, what was going through your mind?!”
The post race interview is a haze of forced smiles and generic answers. You’re barely listening as the reporters barrage you with questions. You’re still so pissed off at Beomgyu.
When it’s finally over, you make your way to the garage and that’s where you spot him leaning casually against his car, arms crossed in a nonchalant way. You clench your fists, blood boiling as you storm over to him. He’d crossed the line, well, not literally this time, but definitely fucking figuratively.
"You fucking cheated!" You shout, jabbing a finger at his chest.
He blinks innocently, tilting his head in a puppy like way. "Me? Cheat? That’s a very serious accusation to make. I’d never." There’s a slight smugness to him, almost mocking, he’s not even pissed he didn’t win like you’d wanted him to be, just calm and collected and being a bitch. It makes you even more livid with him.
“You intentionally tried to cause a collision with me. You should have been penalised. I don’t know how you weren’t!”
“Yeah, and you still won. So why are you even mad?” He crosses his arms and shrugs, ridiculing you. “If you can’t handle that maybe you should switch to something lighter like go karting instead.”
"Can’t handle?!" You splutter, looking at him in pure disbelief, your voice rising. "You arrogant, nepotistic, spoilt brat!-” Each insult punctuated with a sharp poke to his chest and, yet he still finds it all funny, bursting out into laughter at you.
Something inside you just snaps. It infuriates you how you’re the one who won and yet, you feel small. Why is he the one sneering at you? That should be you! You want to have the upper hand over him, some semblance of control— just like that night again when he was putty in your hands.
And so, before you can even register what you yourself are about to do, you grab him by his jacket, smashing your lips against his. He melts almost instantly, kissing you back so fervently and eagerly, as if he’d been waiting this whole time for this to happen. And you can’t lie, it felt almost euphoric to have his soft lips back on yours again. Almost like an addict getting their fix after a long withdrawal.
The kissing becomes heated fast, sounds of your mouths smacking filling the echoing garage as he lets you take over his mouth completely, letting you bite and pull at his bottom lip, emitting soft little gasps at this.
Even for the second time, it was disorienting seeing Beomgyu like this, nothing like the beomgyu you knew on the track or in the spotlight, and now with no alcohol in your system, neither of you could even blame whatever was going on right now on that. It’s all too intoxicating. It takes everything in you to pull back for air.
You push him against his car with more force than necessary, and Beomgyu stumbles slightly before sitting down on the top of the hood. His eyes are blown wide, flustered as you stand between his splayed legs, cupping his cheek and kissing him again, him responding immediately. This is how you like him. Your kisses trail down his jaw and the column of his neck, when you suck on his adam’s apple, he lets out a sharp intake and gasp, tilting his head back to give you more access, he already seems worked up from just a few kisses. Was his neck really that sensitive?
When your hand slides down to palm him through his trousers, his breath hitches and his jaw goes slack. “Oh…b-but we’re in public…” his cheeks flush a deep red and he protests weakly, plump lips all swollen and glossy and wet from the intense making out.
You raise a brow. “So you want me to stop?” You keep grinding your palm against his very hard length now, sucking on his neck and he shudders and whines cutely, very clearly enjoying it.
“W-wait no….” So you continue, he’s panting as you palm him, rutting into your hand himself. You pull back just enough to look at him, so dumb and lost in pleasure, lips parted with soft breathy moans and gasps as he chases the small friction you give him, his brows knitting together.
You roll your eyes at the sight of him, “Trying to run me off the track? You’re pathetic, beomgyu.”
“Pathetic?” He scoffs, still having the nerve to act like a brat when it’s all crumbling. “h-hah, if anyone’s pathetic it’s you—s-shit y/n—please. I need more, please.” Completely contradicting himself, because if there was only one word to describe him exactly right now, it would be pathetic.
“Admit it. Say you’re nothing but a dirty cheater first.”
“You wish.”
“Okay. I’ll leave you like this. All hard and horny.”
He hesitates, scowling, debating whether or not to challenge you, but when you stop all contact of palming and kissing his neck, starting to step away, he caves in.
“Wait!” He blurts, grasping at your wrist, eyes wide and pleading. “I’m…fine. Fine! I’m nothing but a dirty a cheater...” His face burns, embarrassed, humiliated, his pride hurt. The admission sends a thrill through you, he’s always been so full of himself, but now he’s just a needy pathetic mess for you. You’re having so much fun.
You grin. “Aw. What a good boy.” You coo sarcastically. The words have an instant effect on him though, whole body tensing and cheeks blooming into an even more impossibly vivid red and he whines, hands clutching at your hips to bring you back as he still sits pliantly on the hood of his car.
You unzip his pants, flushed pretty cock already leaking, slapping at his tummy and you brush your thumb over his sensitive tip, spreading the bead of pre-cum that gathered there slowly, watching his reaction and he looks down at the action himself, drawing out a helpless shudder and whimper from him. He groans, eyes half lidded when you wrap your hand around his cock, moving up and down with a deliberate slowness that makes his breath hitch every few seconds and whine.
“God, you’re so easy, beomgyu. Are you this much of a whore all the time?” You murmur and tease, dragging your teeth over his cute earlobe, ears all red, feeling him shiver.
“Shut”, he whimpers cutely, “up. I-i could…ah…fuck you stupid right now.” He retaliates or attempts to, but his hands grip the edge of the hood like he’s barely holding himself upright.
You laugh. “Oh, really? Because you look pretty wrecked already.” He was so fucked out right now, you wonder if he’d even be able to take it when you actually fuck him.
He’s still trying to keep up the pretense of resistance. “I’m not wrecked. You’re—” You pump his cock at a ruthless pace, jerking him off fast, occasionally toying with the slit on the head of cock and his body goes limp under you touch, moaning out prettily and loudly, eyes squeezing shut and panting, chest heaving. He clings to you now, head buried in your neck, practically drooling, body jerking with every stroke. He still attempts to bite back at you but they come out as dumb babbles and mumbles of nonsense, mewling and gasping, completely at your mercy.
Beomgyu whines and moans deliriously. “F-fuck! Oh—need to cum. C-can’t.” He removes his head from your neck to look up at you with glossy doe eyes, so wrecked and hanging on by a thread. You move your hand up and down his dick unrelentingly and before he’s just about to cum, you pull your hand off him.
The pained, frustrated cry that escapes him is deliciously pathetic. His hips jerk into the air desperately to chase the sensation, but it’s long gone now. He looks at you in shock, eyes wide in utter betrayal and devastation, and now wet with tears of frustration. But then he frowns and scowls, annoyed he didn’t get to cum. “What the fuck was that for?” He pouts.
“I could think of a lot honestly. But, don’t you want to cum inside me?”
His jaw hangs open. “Please. Yes.” Beomgyu breathes out, nodding fervently and looking at you with puppy eyes, pupils dilating and dazed at the thought alone.
Sliding off the hood, beomgyu takes your hand like an obedient puppy, and you open the car door. He sits in his driver’s seat, his flushed face tilted up to watch you as you climb onto his lap. You rid yourself of your own clothes, watching as his gaze drops immediately to your bare tits, breath catching and lips parting as he stares, seemingly captivated. He’s so stupid.
You grab his dick and use the head to rub your clit, making him let out little stuttered gasps, sliding him over your entrance and folds a few times before you sink slowly down completely. The feeling of your warm tight pussy making him go cross eyed as he groans, sucking in air and throwing his head back, grasping at your waist, furrowing his brows and mouth in an ‘o’ shape, you beginning to ride him.
It’s so hot and cramped and sweaty in the car now as you bounce on his dick continuously, being able to hear the obscene slapping and sticky noises so loudly. Beomgyu looks in a state of absolute, pure bliss, moaning like a bitch, mind all fogged up and mushy at the feeling of your pussy, his messy damp bangs falling into his eyes so all you can see is his very glistening round lips, still in that sustained ‘o’ shape, just so dumbed and fucked out.
He’s a gorgeous wreck, thick doll-like lashes fluttering. If only everyone else could see Choi Beomgyu like this right now. It feels so empowering and satisfying after all these years of him being so infuriating. You love how, despite his attempts at being bratty, he’s so docile and such a simple whore.
You tangle your hands in his hair and tug and pull every so often, which he clearly very likes if the high and strained moans are anything to show for this. His hands squeeze at your tits when it feels too good for him. His lips latch onto one of your nipples, tongue flicking over it and sucking and kissing as he looks up at you with his big brown eyes. When you deliberately clamp your pussy tightly around him, he moans out your name in response, muffled from him still sucking your tits needily, body slightly jerking.
“You remember, don’t you?—at the club?” You ask, although it was probably obvious by now.
Beomgyu pauses for a moment, popping his wet droolly mouth off your boobs, eyes darting away for a moment before returning to look at you, nodding vigorously, “of course I remember…l-liked it.” You cup his cheek again, kissing beomgyu hard, hands still tangled in his hair, tugging, fucking him mercilessly as he moans softly against your lips. “Oh god, m’ sso close. Can I cum?”
You nod, kissing him some more, “Cum for me, beomie.”
“Holyy s-shitt—” Beomgyu’s eyes roll to the back of his head, squeezing one of your tits as if for support, his back arches, his tongue lolling out dumbly, whole body trembling and shaking. You bring one of your hands to your clit, rubbing and riding yourself on him harder. With a choked off scream, he spills so much of his cum inside you, and the gorgeous sight brings you over the edge too, cumming as well.
He doesn’t pull out though, burying his face in your neck, gasping for air, groaning and clinging to you tightly, he’s still shuddering and you can feel little spurts of his cum still dribbling in you, pussy completely milking him.
The two of you sat in the car still afterwards in a slightly awkward silence. Both of you panting, trying to come down from your highs, left to fully take in what had just happened and also how thoughtless it was. Fucking Choi beomgyu in the garage? You’re incredibly lucky no one walked in. It wasn’t even like both of you were trying to be quiet either, none of that running through your mind at that moment. What if someone had heard?
Beomgyu, for once, was quiet, his usual smirk replaced with a dazed expression, so far gone. He leans slowly towards you though, looking as if he was about to kiss you again.
“This…this doesn’t mean anything by the way.” You mutter, beginning to button up your shirt.
Beomgyu scoffs, running a hands through his hair. “Doesn’t feel like nothing.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t. At all.” You roll your eyes, trying not to freak out, you open the car door, wanting more than anything to just get out. You walk away, leaving him there, disheveled and barely clothed, still slumped in the driver’s seat. And you don’t see it, but there’s a look of almost, somewhat hurt on his face.
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A/n: happy new year !!<3 please give this lots of love it was such a bitch to write idk why but I really struggled with this 😭 also I’m so sorry to all the racing fans if makes no sense, I just made up my own kind of racing competition thing. Also the cars do not look anything like f1 cars 😭 more kind of like the nascar ones so they can actually fuck in it 😭 idk bro. I know no nothing about cars or racing. Also I’m sorry if the smut seems rushed and messy, I haven’t edited it and I was lowkey rushing to get this out
Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and disappointing when fics have such little reblogs ☹️👎🤨. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write more :)
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago
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PRETTY AS A PRINCESS ♡
pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader
summary: you and logan have to work on halloween, but on the bright side, that means you get to dress up. and even better, you get to give him a little preview of the costume you've chosen.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, ddlg, slight dumbification
wc: 3.2k
a/n: reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <33
kinktober slot: day 29 - ddlg
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"You sure you don't need my help in there?" Logan calls to you.
"I got it. Just gimme a second," your voice responds, slightly muffled from the walk-in closet door separating the two of you, "So impatient."
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, a smile rising to his lips. Normally, that comment would get you a small swat on the ass, but he decides to let it go for now.  You were in a particularly good mood today. The two of you had been assigned a mission next week that fell on Halloween. At first, you'd been unhappy about that, but then the professor informed you that it meant you were going undercover at a Halloween party - which meant you got to dress up.
For the past couple weeks, you'd been thinking about this costume choice as if it was the most important decision you'll ever make in your life. There were just so many options as you'd put it. So many colors and cuts. 
He knew you, so he knew it'd be something cute. But thus far, you hadn't actually shown him what you picked. Today it arrived in the mail, which is why tonight, you made a big deal of revealing it to him.
"Are you ready?" you finally ask.
"I've been ready. Let's see it."
The closet door creaks open. Before you exit, you peak your head out, flashing him a quick smile. Your excitement oozes from every pore on your body, flooding the room as you finally step out from behind the mahogany.
His prediction had been right - you look very cute. You strut out to him in what seems to be a princess costume. A tight corset wraps around your waist while frills and lace compliments your bust. The skirt goes down to your mid thigh, flowy and sweet while teasing enough flesh to be seductive. A sparkling tiara rests atop your head, and long, smooth gloves cover you fingertip to elbow. 
Skipping over, you stop in front of him. "So... what do you think?" you ask with a coy cock of your head.
His eyes scan you up and down, but of course, his mind has been made.
"Do you really have to ask?" he teases, "You look beautiful."
A bright smile spreads over your face when the inevitable answer hits your ears.
He chuckles at the reaction and reaches out to grab your waist. He really does adore this little get-up. It suits you just right, and on top of that, he can already tell how it makes you feel.
From the beginning of your relationship, Logan had a suspicion you'd be into this kind of thing. The whole princess thing. And along with that, the whole daddy thing. 
While you could be fierce in the field, sharp and quick, there was another side to you. A side that liked things soft and gentle, that yearned to be taken care of. It was the same part of you that came out when he sat you on his lap, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. The part that made your head go fuzzy and your eyes glossy when he'd speak in a lower tone or call you a sweet name.
Over the course of knowing you, he'd found there were more triggers than delicate touches and tender words though. It was easier for you to slip into this dreamier headspace when you were tired or sad. You also liked when he took over simple tasks for you. But another one was definitely when you felt pretty. That always seemed to bring the d-word out from between those plush lips.
He found it a little odd at first, but he loved you. He could roll with you calling him daddy if that's what you wanted. And after a while, it didn't seem so strange anymore. He found himself craving your voice ringing out those two syllables, calling for only him when you felt your most vulnerable.
He spins you around between his thighs and kisses the warm back of your neck. The zipper on your dress hadn't been pulled all the way up. His fingers find the small metal piece to tug, pulling on it a little to tease before fixing the garment.
"Were you gonna wear it like this to the party, babydoll?" he asks, voice slipping into that lovingly condescending tone, "Give everybody there a nice show?"
A giggle bursts from you. Vibrates up your sternum through your throat and from your mouth. With how close he is to you, he can feel each bit.
"No," you say as if it's obvious. From your cadence alone, he can tell his set of suspicions was correct. You're starting to slip.
"So you need daddy's help then?" he mocks, dropping his voice. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, tugging a little and beckoning more laughter from you.
"I guess..."
"You could've just said that then. I know my little girl can't be expected to do everything on her own."
You hum with petulant agreement. Your head tilts back to rest on his shoulder at the same time the back of your dress closes up. He kisses up your spine, the metal teeth chasing his lips.
"There we go," he says with a small pat to your hip.
You turn around to face him again. The fabric of your skirt flies up a little with the mini twirl. He smooths it back down for you before gazing at those eyes glimmering with admiration.
"Could you help me with my socks and shoes too? I accidentally forgot them out here."
"Did you now?" he smirks. He knows your games. If he doesn't offer to do things for you, then you make sure to create a situation in which the chances of that happening increase.
"Mhm," you say, nodding up and down in big bobs.
"Well go get them, and bring 'em here."
Obeying the command like it's a second nature, you pad over to the chair by the closet and dig inside the package to get the matching pieces to this outfit. He watches you pull out ivory thigh highs with little bows at the meshy hems and a pair of dainty heels. 
The items swing back and forth at your sides as you waltz to him. He takes them from you and sets them on the mattress. Standing up, his form rises above your own. He guides you so that your positions are reversed. Your thighs press against the blankets before he guides you down to sit.
"Be a good girl and sit still for me now. We'll get you all dolled up," he directs.
In a move no one else besides you ever sees, he crouches down before you. He gets on his knee and grabs one of the socks off the bed. The material stretches under his careful fingers as he prepares it for you. One of his hands takes your ankle, boosting your leg up.
The thin, white fabric slides over your foot first. Just as he did with the zipper, he kisses your ankle, then your calve, your knee and then your thigh. He feels your pupils lock on him. He doesn't even have to look up. His mind knows the way they’re dilating while set upon him.
He shimmies the sleeve around your leg, making sure the little bow sits at the front. "That look right?" Now his eyes look up at your own.
The two small spheres look as he'd imagined, blown-out and ultra-focused on him. Your bottom lip is between your teeth too. "Mhm. Thank you, daddy," you answer softly.
"No problem, baby."
Now, he moves to your other limb. He repeats the process. Smooches land on your skin, flowing along the path the sock follows. That one gets put in the proper place too. He pushes your legs together, looking at the pair next to each other. The bows sit there staring back at him. He didn't know how he was supposed to focus on whatever you were actually going to this halloween party for when you looked like this.
"Cute, huh?" he asks.
You nod and smile.
After seeing your legs closed, the only natural next move would be to spread them apart. His thumbs hook against your inner thighs, the rest of his digits curling over the rest of the doughy flesh. He pushes them away from each other. The growing distance causes the silky skirt to ride up and allows him to see what you wear beneath your pretty dress.
Matching panties. The same kind of lace that framed your collar fans across your pelvis. It's fashioned in the same style and color as the rest of what you're wearing. He can feel heat pooling between his legs just from a quick glance.
"Are these new too?" he asks, tugging you to the edge of the mattress and pushing your skirt away.
"Yeah... Do you like them?" you check.
"You're smarter than that, baby," he says. He leans in and presses a kiss to your cunt over the fabric. The gesture's so chaste, but you feel your tummy flutter with the first beat of arousal.
"I just wanna make sure since I got them for you," you tell him.
"All for me? Never knew you could be so thoughtful, sweetheart."
You scoff and pout at him from above. "Yes you did."
He laughs softly at that and pecks your inner thigh a few times as penance. "Maybe. I guess you can be sweet when you wanna."
His tongue flicks out to lick back up to the new panties. The scent of your desire grows more prevalent. He knows you're getting wet for him. Bringing one finger up, he traces over the cloth, from where your slit is to your cute little clit. He does that a few times before hooking around the entire section and pulling it aside. Like he expected, your folds glisten for him.
"Poor baby. Is daddy getting you all messy?" he coos with a smug look.
"Yeah," you whimper. The shudder you'd been repressing washes over your body.
"It's only right I clean my pretty princess up then, hm?" he asks, still mocking you with his eyes.
You nod again, your confirmation wordless this time.
He brings his face to your center and lays a more passionate kiss upon the slick skin. His lips engulf your sex, his tongue dancing against your clit teasingly. Instantly, you whine and dig your gloved fingers into the sheets. Your legs find their places on his shoulders, convincing him to lean deeper into the junction of your thighs.
His tongue flattens, lapping your pussy with a nearly feral lust. It's no secret that Logan loves your taste. Not a drop of you goes to waste if he can spare it. He feels your thighs quivering against each side of his head and brings his free hand to rest on top of one. The security of him holding you there settles you slightly. But the position also gives him leverage to keep you close.
He sucks on your clit and then fucks his tongue into you. You try to writhe. Your hips buck at the onslaught of pleasure flaring up at your core, but he has an inhumane grip on you. You haven't cum yet, but you're gushing onto his face all the same.
"Daddy," you mewl, barely able to get the word out, "You're gonna ruin the underwear."
He's rock hard now at the whiny sound of your voice. You always get that way when you're near the edge. Your lip starts to wobble. Your voice gets pitchy as your demands grow needy. The look in your eyes just makes everything you say sound like begging.
Not one to normally be interrupted, he twirls the tip of his tongue around your bundle of nerves. But the words you spoke begin to register in his brain, and he reluctantly pulls back. His eyelids droop down with lust. Your fluids coat his chin and make some of his facial hair shimmer from the wetness.
"That's true, baby. Can't get these all soaked and destroyed before the party."
He rises to his feet again, pulling your panties all the way off simultaneously. Then his hands drop to his pants. He rids himself of his belt and undoes his fly.
"Plus, I think I have another way I can show you how much I like this new dress."
Taking his cock out, he tugs on it a few times. A few pearls of precum bead at the tip. His favorite part about getting his dick out is watching your reaction to it. No matter how many times you've seen it, you still seem so in awe. You marvel at the size and the way it flushes. Your eyes track the veins sprawling over it and sneak a glance at the heavy set of balls hanging below his shaft. He doesn't think you could look any more longing if you tried.
You're already soaked, so all he has to do is line up and slide in. Whining as he pounds himself into the hilt, your eyes start to go starry. He gets a firm grip on the swell of your hips in order to drag himself back and then pump himself forward again.
"Daddy... slow down," you pout, "s'too big."
He chuckles at your performance and slams in again just as hard. "No, no. C'mon, baby. Daddy needs this. He's gotta show you what you do to him in this little dress. And I know you can take it."
His hips continue to bump your ass as he thrusts back and forth. It's easy for him to find the rhythm you like. He settles into it and rocks in and out of your tight cunt. It feels like pure, concentrated bliss for him; always does. Your velvety walls, spasming and sucking on his cock. Silently crying 'more more more.'
"Pretty girl... we're gonna be doing this at the party too if you're not careful," he grunts.
You babble and squirm on the bed, lazily nodding at the sound of his voice. It's so cute, he thinks. The way you go dumb so quick and easy.
"Mhm. You're gonna drive me crazy. Might have to pull you into one of the bathrooms and bend you over the counter. See how cute this outfit looks from the back," he continues.
Your back arches off the plush surface. A physical stamp of approval on his plan.
"Gonna have you screaming so loud everyone there hears and knows what a good girl you are for your daddy," he breathes.
Leaning down, he removes a hand from your hip and brings it to cup your jaw. The pads of his fingers dig into your fleshy cheeks. Your lips puff out a little, begging for a kiss. He gives you a quick peck but never stops the ricocheting of his pelvis.
"You're so precious," he murmurs against your skin.
Meanwhile, his hips seem like their mission is to obliterate you down below. They ram forward and back, jostling your body on the bed. You can barely find the will to choke out "Daddy, daddy, daddy. Can I cum? Please."
Your voice is wrecked, even pitchier than before. He bobbles your head into a little nod with his hand. Your glassy eyes stay on him the whole time though. 
"Yeah, you can," he agrees.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you babble and fling your arms around him to keep him close. Not that he was going anywhere. He stays balls deep in you through the sensation of you tightening up and gushing all over him. Your walls flutter and squeeze. You writhe like you're possessed, and your eyes give that same impression as they roll back. Half-words spill from your lips begging, "Da- Plea- oh fuck-"
"Language, baby," he chides mockingly, his own tone growing strained.
You respond with total sincerity though. "'m sorry, daddy. Just- hnnngh- just feels so good."
"I know it does. Too much for you to handle, hm?"
You shake your head but the motion is so wild, it barely comes across as a declaration of disagreement.
"Use your big girl words, sweetheart," he coos. His desire tightens between his hips. He feels the familiar pressure and the way his balls draw up with the need to spill inside you.
"I can do it- ah!" you squeal, "I can take it. Just want daddy to finish inside."
His face falls down to rest in the crook of your neck. "If that's what you want, princess."
They're the last words he gets out before a groan rumbles in his chest. His release fires out with fervor. Spills into you in strong ropes. You sigh, eyes rolling back as warm satisfaction fizzles in your belly. The sensation melts you down from the whiny mess you had been into a boneless, whimpering puddle.
He pants against your skin. Hot puffs of air hit your neck as he starts coming down. Slowly, his cock slides out of you, popping out with a squelch. Two thick fingers find your hole and fuck the cum that was leaking out of you back in. You whimper at the intrusion to your sensitive cunt, but he smirks at you.
"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok, baby. We don't want any of this getting on your pretty dress, do we? Can't make a mess of it yet."
Your head bobbles in lazy agreement. He continues pumping his fingers into your soaked entrance while placing gentle kisses all over your face. 
When he finishes, he pulls your panties and his pants back up and then recedes to his knees again. He takes the heels from the bed and slides your feet into them. Taking care to make sure the strap is in place, he fastens the buckle on each and then lets them fall to the floor.
"Think you can walk in those still? Or did daddy get you too dizzy?" he asks.
"I can," you huff.
Pushing yourself off the bed, your legs wobble like those of a baby deer. You move across the bedroom, swaying a little but not enough to topple over and crash to the ground. He can tell you're waddling slightly, probably from the cum slowly seeping out of you again.
The costume looks gorgeous as ever with all the pieces put together. You readjust the tiara on your head and do a little spin for him before heading back over to the chair you initially pulled this dress from. You fish out what seems to be a basic wolf mask and show it to him.
"I got this for you," you beam.
His eyebrows raise incredulously. "I'm not wearing that."
You give him a look of your own, seconds away from stamping your foot. "Yes you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes you are."
"Am not."
"Are too! You have to dress up, Charles already said!" you insist and bring the mask to him, "Plus don't you wanna match? It's like beauty and the beast."
He barks out a laugh. "Is that what I am to you? A beast?" he teases, pulling you close again.
"Well yeah, but in a good way," you grin.
"Hm. We'll see. I'll think about it," he says.
You're about to whine out a please, but he stops you with a kiss. He knows he'll be hearing tons of that for the next few weeks.
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imwritingthefout · 6 months ago
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after session hangout
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basically you fall in love with the dm of your campaign in college: Ford pines, smut ensues
This is crossposted to ao3 so if you wanna go read it there, here’s the link:
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Waking up each day to the same old ceiling was starting to bore you. 
Ever since moving out of your parents house for college you felt like a stranger in the dorm you now called ‘home’, and It didn't help that you refused to decorate it. 
Getting out of your plain old bed, you stand up and push away the blinds with a tug, the light from the early morning sun blinding you temporarily. You glance down at your clock; 6:30am, thursday. The time isn't the part that excites you though, it's the day. Today is the day you look forward to all week: Dd&md day! 
You go to get ready for your morning class, excited for what the future of today may hold. You love dd&md, its been your favourite game since you were a child -even though you had no one to play it with back then, you got creative (no goat was harmed in your past attempts at playing the game).
Your classes went by in a blur. Of course you were taking notes and whatnot, it was important to pay attention! But in secret, you were drawing your character all over the side of your notebook and thinking of strategies on how to defeat the next dungeon your dm set up for you.
And then there was your dm. 
One of the many reasons you adored thursdays was because you got to play dd&md of course, but other than that there was another big reason you liked thursdays.
To put it plainly: your dm, Stanford Pines was Hot. like, capital H Hot. you couldn't get over his warm brown eyes that sparkled with passion whenever he detailed the characters he was playing. His hands that moved with his every word, adding to the description of the imaginary world he was building. God you wanted to feel those hands on you. What would they feel like, intertwined with your own, on your hips while he-
You decided to stop that train of thought. As much as you liked him, you also respected him enough to know that he would probably never feel that way towards you, and you shouldn't fantasise about him like that (even though it was hard not to).
And though he was Hot, that wasn't the only reason you liked him. You liked him because he was smart, compassionate, funny and so very cute.
What can you say? You had a thing for nerds.
As your last class of the day finished finished up, you quickly packed up your things and rushed to the old building next to the dorms that housed your favourite room in the whole campus: the old meeting room you guys used to house your dd&md sessions! 
The room wasn't glorious, it was just an old meeting room that's been out of use for years. But to you, that room was the home of your imagination. It held a special place in your heart, and you were sure it was the same for the rest of your party.
Speaking of which, you saw Fiddleford approach you down the old hallway, little puffs of dust kicking up with each of his steps. “Hey Fidds! You ready for today’s session?” you yelled to him slightly as he approached. “Ready as I'll ever be! You won't believe what I have planned in order to kick that sorcerer's butt!” he gave your shoulder a weak punch and opened the door with his key.
Usually, the old building was out of commission. But since Fiddleford knew a guy who works as campus security and convinced him to give him the key, you had full access to the building to do whatever you pleased. Of course for you, anything just means playing dd&md, not causing a mess and cleaning up after yourselves as much as possible in order to not inconvenience anyone. You knew that other people your age would throw huge parties and wreck the place, but you weren't that kind of person, really. You just liked having a quiet place to play your games and hang out with your friends. Fiddleford was like that too, that's how he got the key in the first place; because his friend trusted him not to mess up the place.
As you walked inside, you saw the table set out just how you guys left it last week: the long rectangular table set up in the middle of the room, with seven chairs set out all around the table, one for each player and one for your dm. A whiteboard behind the dm’s seat that shows the map of the fantasy world you are currently in the middle of exploring, and cork board on another wall with a bunch of graph paper pinned to it.
You walk around the table, taking your regular seat across from Fiddleford. “So what do you think Ford's planning for this session?” you ask Fidds. This is your usual routine: get to the building early, wait for Fidds and ask him if he has any intel for the session since his roommate is Ford. “like usual, i can’t tell you, it'll ruin the fun!” Fidds exclaimed, although the grin on his face told you he likes this familiar back and forth. 
You eased into a casual conversation from there, talking about your days as you waited for everyone else. You liked coming early because then you had more time to talk with Fidds and, of course, with Ford.
You met Fidds on the first day of the semester, when you sat next to each other in the freshman orientation presentation, and hit it off from there. you became friends rather quickly, bonding over the fact that you were both far away from home with no friends in town. You decided to help him move into his dorm after the presentation, and that's when you met Ford.
At first, you were a bit speechless at the guy in front of you. His outfit was the usual scholar's outfit of a white button up shirt with a brown vest on top, but then he was wearing jeans in order to look more ‘casual’ as he put it. His hair was neat and tidy and his glasses framed his face perfectly, at least in your opinion. You introduced yourself awkwardly, and once he introduced himself as Stanford Pines, a parapsychology major with aspirations for 12 phd’s in the next five years, you knew you were in over your head. You can't have a crush on a super-genius! What if he turns out to be an arrogant asshole? But you couldn't help developing feelings for him as you got closer. He wasn't just a super-genius, he was also kind and compassionate, understanding and just a good friend. That's when you decided to just stay friends with Ford, you couldn't afford to lose such a good friend.
Speaking of which, the man himself comes into the room, holding a stack of books detailing the rules and monsters of dd&md, a satin sack full of dice and his dm screen. You can barely see his face behind all of the things he's carrying, and immediately you jump up to help him carry everything. He silently thanks you for the help and starts setting his stuff up while you go back to your seat. “Hey guys, how've you been since last week?” Ford asks you two. “Oh i've been well, you know. Dealing with you every day can be challenging but I manage somehow” Fidds says dramatically and you stifle a giggle. Ford gives Fidds a death glare before turning to you “and how are you?” he asks with a smile that makes your knees weak. “I'm good!” you proclaim a little too loudly and cough to hide your blush “yes i'm good, just the usual classes and such” you say in a normal voice (or at least what you hope is a normal voice, it doesn't help that Fidds looks at you cheekily, already knowing your secret crush on his roomate) “how have you been?” you ask him. 
“Just the usual: doing homework, studying and building up today’s session” you catch on to the last part as a potential way to continue the conversation. “Well, what do you have planned for today?”. “Oh come on now, it wouldn't be fun to just spoil the game for you, would it?” he says and points to you to emphasise his point. “You can't even give us an outline? Something?” you pout a little and Ford gives in “fine… I may have something up my sleeve for today, and I can guarantee you won't see it coming this time! That's all I'm going to say for now though” he jabs his finger at you, trying to seem angry that you caught onto his plans last time, but his little smile gives him away. 
Soon your other party members start filing in and you all start the session. 
It goes as usual, you all mess around for a bit before getting serious. You can confidently say you saw the twist Ford put in this session coming, it was obvious how the wizard was actually a party member’s son, they had so many similarities! After another successful session, everyone leaves for their respective houses, leaving you, Fidds and Ford alone in the room to clean up.
“I can't believe you saw that coming again! I swear you're like a sorcerer in real life” Ford chuckles and Fidds adds “that would also explain how you get here before me every time! I swear I ran to get here today and you still beat me here!” “well what can i say guys? I'm just magical in every way!” you strike a silly but confident pose as Ford and Fidds laugh at your antics. “Oh shoot! I promised my friend i’d go on a blind date today, could you guys lock up this time? Ford you can just give me the keys tomorrow morning if i get lucky” Fidds winks and Ford rolls his eyes “alright, we get it, you can go”. Fidds leaves the keys on the desk and almost sprints out of the room.
You and Ford clean up the mess on the desk in silence before Ford decides to break it “how do you keep predicting my twists anyways? I swear it was supposed to come out of nowhere but you're too smart” you blush a little at the compliment “thank you, i guess i’m just good at guessing twists. But you do make it kind of easy. I mean, a secret relative of someone close? It’s kind of a cliche don't you think?” he pulls at the collar of his button up shirt and you can immediately tell something is wrong.
“Yeah.. I guess it is kind of cliche, but it's what fits the character, don't you think?” he says with a guilty tone. “Ford, what's wrong? I feel like you're hiding something” you get close enough to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder “you can tell me anything, i wont judge” you add, trying to coax him into telling you what's wrong.
“Well… I guess I brought the secret relative from my own life because… well… I have a twin brother….” the sentence doesn’t completely shock you, but it is still somewhat of a surprise “why do you never mention him? Did something happen between you two?” he chuckles a bit before saying “still as perceptive as ever, huh?” you blush a bit as he continues, looking out into the middle distance in thought
“Me and my brother were really close when we were young, we would do everything together. But as time went on, we grew apart. He didn't like the fact that I wanted to go away to a fancy college, especially because he knew he couldn't follow me there. I was working on a machine to impress the college, but on the day of the showing it stopped working. My own brother sabotaged my future. We had a big falling out over it and that’s why I'm here instead….” you empathised with Ford, but you couldn't help but question some things about his story.
“I know it must have been hard to deal with the fact you lost your ticket to the college of your dreams, but do you really believe your brother would sabotage you? If he loves you, wouldn't he want to support you? Maybe it was an accident and he didn't mean to destroy your project?” Ford looks lost in thought again before replying “i… it's foolish but i never thought of it that way…” he looks at you with thankfulness in his eyes and you can't help but smile up at him “you should maybe sort this out with him? Talk to him about what actually happened and if he meant to hurt you?” 
“God you're right… Thank you! This changes everything! I'm so glad I could just kiss you!” 
….
It takes him a second to realise what he said and blush at the thought of actually kissing you. You just stare at him dumbly for a second until your brain processes what he said.
He wants to kiss you?
Well this took a turn for the better.
“Do you really mean that?” you ask him with hope in your eyes
“Well… yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t i? Look at you” he finds that it's suddenly very important you understand how much he wants to kiss you. “Wow… i- i didn't know you felt the same…” you say softly and look down. He says your name and puts his hand on your cheek and lifts up your face to meet his eyes “i like you. More than as a friend. Would you… let me kiss you?” he looks at you nervously for a moment before you close the gap between you two and kiss him yourself.
The kiss feels electrifying. As your soft lips meet his you put your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You realise he smells exactly how you thought he would; of old books and aftershave. His hands find your waist and rub gentle circles with his thumbs into your skin. You pull away after a little and touch your forehead with his “you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that” you whisper gently.
“Me too” and he goes back to kissing you, this time he takes the lead. You tighten yourself around him until your chests meet, his hands move down to your hips and he pulls you onto his lap in one swoop. You gently bite his lip as he groans into your open lips. He then moves down to kiss from your jaw to your neck, leaving the occasional love bite. You sigh at his bites until he gets to your collarbones. “Do you…. Want to do this?” he breathes the question against your skin, the feeling of him against you makes you shudder. “Yes. im sure”. He straightens up from excitement and goes back to kissing you collarbone, now more eager than ever as his hands travel past the hem of your shirt and up to your bra. Meanwhile your hands go down to feel him underneath you.
“Someone is excited” you smirk as he breaths heavily against you. 
“Very” his response falls heavy against you as he unclasps your bra (with only a little bit of a struggle) and his hands move to massage your breasts. You moan as he pinches your nipples in between his fingers. You lower your head to bite at his shoulder to stifle another moan from falling out of your lips- “No” he says and moves his shoulder to get you to stop muffling your sounds. “I want to hear you”. The thought of him wanting to hear you like this makes you blush and sends a bolt of pleasure down your spine. “Y-yes’’ 
You intend to start massaging him through his pants but he beats you to it, moving his hand down into your pants. You help him take off your pants and underwear (with a lot of struggle because of your position) and he suddenly picks you up and places you on the table. The cold desk underneath you only adds to the pleasure as he caresses your side before moving his hand down to finally touch you. 
His hand caresses your folds and feels how wet you are, and you moan from the feeling of his thick fingers on your sensitive skin. “Damn, you feel so good” he whimpers at how you feel before kissing your breasts and plunging his index finger inside you. “A-ah~” you sigh as he moves his hand so his thumb is circling your clit. 
He continues pumping his finger inside of you for a second before adding a second one and speeding up the pace. If he continues like this you wont last long. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, he stops and goes down onto his knees, his face in front of your core. “Can I please taste you?” he asks innocently, as if his request isn't the most dirty thing you've heard him say. Thinking about it makes you even more aroused -if that's even possible at this point- and you hastily agree.
Not even a second after he sees you nod does he jump into your pussy, his tongue plunging into you and licking you from the inside. His nose bumps into your clit as he moves to taste and lick you even more. Your breath hitches and you moan loudly as he begins sucking at your clit, toying and teasing it with his tongue. “Please F-Ford” you manage to say in between moans. He groans against you and the vibrations send a wave of pleasure through you.
He suddenly brings his fingers back into you, curling them just right, hitting that spongy spot inside you that sends you over the edge. 
You briefly hear him let out a broken “Fu-uck” as your orgasm ripples through you in waves. Ford helps you ride out your high as he continues fingering you and licking at your clit. You have to push him off of you as it becomes too overstimulating
You try to pull him up to his knees, but he seems embarrassed by something. He looks up at you with his chin and nose glistening from your wetness, a guilty smile on his lips and his glasses fogged up and crooked. You then look down and notice it. A wet spot against his jeans
oh.
He got off on pleasuring you. He turned into a mess from just tasting you, feeling you on his lips and fingers. “That's the hottest thing i've ever seen” you say suddenly and lean down to kiss him passionately. He pulls away “really? You think so?” he looks at you in shock. “Yes! Now let me kiss you” you bring him up and kiss him passionately. He takes the hint, grabs at your hips and grunts. You can feel him already hardening again so you pull at his belt and pull down his pants and underwear. You softly grab him and start moving your hand up and down as he whimpers against your lips. You bring up your hand and spit onto it in order to create less friction when touching him.
“Please Ford- fuck me” you moan into his ear and he leans his head back in pleasure. “But i don't have-” you cut him off “there's some condoms in the front pocket of my bag, please” you emphasise your point by giving his cock another stroke. This seems to fuel him on to run to your bag and get the condom. He opens the packet and rolls it onto his member. He rubs his cock against your folds to collect your juices and as his head rubs against your oversensitive clit you moan. “Please put it inside” you hold onto his shoulders as he follows your request and pushes his tip in slowly.
He slowly pushes himself inside you until he's bottomed out inside you and you both groan. You move your hips experimentally and he whimpers at the feeling of you around him. He slowly starts to pull out and then thrusts back in with a moan of your name. You dig your fingers into the soft skin of his shoulders as he continues thrusting inside of you slowly. 
He continues gently until you decide to whisper in his ear something that changes his attitude completely “harder- please~”. He understands the message and suddenly picks you up and flips you around -while still inside of you- and bends you over the table. You moan at the sudden change of positions but you have no time to get used to it as he starts thrusting into you at a killer pace. He moves his hips sharply into you, with an almost mechanical pace as he pushes your chest onto the table with his broad torso. You can't help the sounds you let out each time he hits that deep spot inside of you. He grunts into your ear at each thrust and it makes your eyes water from all the pleasure.
You're suddenly pushed over the edge for the second time when he wraps his hand around your body and starts playing with you clit. You scream his name as you cum around his cock. His pace stutters a bit and he curses in your ear as he cums too for the second time.
He slowly eases you both down with some gentler thrusts and then exits out of you with a sensual pop. 
You lay down for a little while with your ass out before you gather some strength to get up. As soon as you do, your legs start to shake and Ford catches you in his arms and chuckles a bit with pride. “So…. did you like that?”  
You dead-pan him and say “no. i didn't like that. Of course I liked that you doofus!” he laughs a bit and kisses you again. “I just wanted to make sure!” he says against your lips. You giggle and pull him even closer “well, i enjoyed that a lot” you give him a small peck on the nose and then pull away to put your clothes back on. He disposes of the condom and goes to put on his pants but pauses. “I can't go out with a wet spot on my pants…. What should I do?” he looks terrified at the thought of walking around campus like that.
“Don't worry, i always carry an extra sweatshirt around in case the ac is too much in class” you laugh as he looks at you like you just saved his life “you are an angel!” he comes up to you and kisses you again before going back to putting on his pants. You hand him the sweatshirt and he ties it around his waist in order to hide the evidence of what happened.
He then comes up to you and hugs you. “You know i meant what i said, right? About liking you” you blush and then respond “i meant what i said too”
“Then can this not be a one time thing? I want to -if you’d want of course, there's no pressure if you don't want to do anything more than what happened today but-” you cut him off to spare him from rambling even more “i’d like to go on a date with you, Ford. i want to go out with you and be with you” he sighs with relief. “Great! Are you free tomorrow?” you check your calendar “yeah i should be- do you want to meet up?” 
“I would love that” he kisses your forehead before picking up your bag and the keys to the room.
You go out but as Ford locks the door, he realises something.
“Why do you have condoms in your bag?”
You immediately flush a deep red as you remember the fact that after first meeting him, your horney brain convinced you to put some condoms in your bag. ‘Just in case something happens’ you thought to yourself
“No reason” you yelp out and pull at his bicep so he continues walking and change the subject.
He chuckles at your antics but goes along with you.
He’ll just have to ask another time.
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alltheeya · 24 days ago
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Fluffy bunny || l.hs
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genre: established relationship, fluff
word count: 1.8k
notes: endearment (heeseung calling the reader "angel"), enha members appearance
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It was a regular day, and Heeseung found himself wandering around a mall after finishing his schedule early. As he strolled past a store window, something caught his eye—a display of plushies. Among the rows of stuffed animals, a particularly cute one stood out: a fluffy bunny with floppy ears and big round eyes.
Without thinking too much, Heeseung walked into the store and bought it. There was no special occasion, no grand reason—he just thought it was something you would like. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see your smile.
Later that evening, when they met up after their practices, Heeseung casually pulled the plushie out of his bag and handed it to you. “Here,” he said, his tone almost nonchalant, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I saw this and thought of you.”
You blinked at the plushie in his hands, your eyes widening with excitement. “Oh my gosh!” you squealed, taking it gently like it was the most precious thing in the world. “Hee, it’s so cute!”
You immediately hugged the bunny, your fingers squeezing it as you made tiny squeaky noises of delight. “It’s so soft! Look at its little ears!” you exclaimed, squishing its face with an adorable intensity that made Heeseung blink in surprise.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction. “You really like it that much?”
“Like it? I love it!” you said, holding the plushie up like it was a prized possession. you gave him the brightest smile, your eyes practically sparkling. “Thank you, Hee. This is the cutest thing ever.”
Heeseung felt a strange warmth in his chest, your reaction more than enough to make his random purchase worth it. He hadn’t expected you to be this happy over a simple plushie, but seeing you so excited made him silently note to himself: Buy her cute stuff more often.
As you continued gushing over the bunny and imagining what kind of “personality” it would have, Heeseung watched you with a soft smile. You looked so carefree and radiant, your  happiness infectious. It was adorable, but Heeseung couldn’t help but feel a little left out.
“So,” he started, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly, “You like the bunny more than me?”
You gasped dramatically, clutching the plushie tighter to your  chest as if shielding it from Heeseung. “Heeseung! How could you say that?” you teased, feigning offense.
Heeseung smirked, leaning closer with a raised brow. “I’m just asking. You seem pretty attached already,” he said, nodding toward the bunny in your  arms. “Do I need to be jealous?”
You tilted your  head, your  lips curling into a mischievous grin. “Hmm… I don’t know,” you said, pretending to think. “This bunny doesn’t tease me as much as you do. It’s soft, it’s cute, and it’s very well-behaved.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes playfully, crossing his arms. “So, it's a competition now? Should I start being fluffier and cuter for you?”
You  laughed, reaching out to poke his cheek. “You already are, Hee,” you said with a warm smile, pinching his cheek. “But the bunny is a close second.”
Heeseung let out a mock sigh of defeat, shaking his head. “We’ve spent months together and this bunny got 5 minutes and it’s already stealing you from me.”
You  giggled and leaned forward, your  free hand tugging gently on his sleeve. “You know you’re my favorite,” you said softly, your gaze meeting his.
“Even more than the bunny?” he asked, his voice teasing but with a hint of genuine curiosity.
“Definitely,” you assured him with a playful wink. Then, you held up the plushie. “But don’t worry, you both have a special place in my heart.”
Heeseung chuckled, ruffling your hair lightly. “Good to know, Angel. But just so you remember, I’m the one who got you that bunny.”
“And I love you for it,” you replied with a grin, hugging the plushie and giving Heeseung a quick, cheeky side-eye.
Heeseung shook his head in mock exasperation, muttering under his breath, “I’m competing with a stuffed toy now.” But the fond smile tugging at his lips gave away just how much he adored you and your quirky reactions.
Heeseung chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you. “Don’t you think it needs a name?”
You paused, your eyes narrowing in thought as you gazed at the plushie. “Hmm, you’re right. It does need a name…”
Before you could continue, Heeseung smirked, leaning in slightly. “It can be... I dunno... like our child?”
You blinked, caught off guard. You stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter, nearly toppling over with the plushie still in your arms. “Our child?” you repeated, your tone incredulous but amused.
Heeseung shrugged nonchalantly, though the teasing glint in his eyes gave him away. “Why not? You’re already treating it like it’s real. Might as well make it official.”
You shook your head, still laughing as you looked down at the bunny. “Okay, Dad. If it’s our kid, then you get to help pick the name.”
“Hmm…” Heeseung tapped his chin dramatically, pretending to think hard. “How about... Fluffball?”
You groaned playfully. “Heeseung, no. That’s so basic!”
“Fine, fine,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “You pick, Angel.”
You stared at the bunny for a moment, your lips pursed. “How about… Bunji?”
“Bunji?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah! It’s cute, right? ” you said, tilting your head. “Like a little nickname. Bunji!”
Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that? But fine, Bunji it is.”
You grinned triumphantly, holding the bunny up like a trophy. “Welcome to the family, Bunji!”
Heeseung shook his head, watching you with a fond smile. “I still can’t believe I’m competing with a stuffed animal.”
“Competing? Don’t be silly,” you  said, leaning toward him with a teasing smile. “You’re the one who made me fall for Bunji in the first place. So technically, it’s all your fault.”
“Great,” Heeseung muttered, rolling his eyes with mock exasperation. But as you leaned your head against his shoulder, still clutching the bunny, he couldn’t help but think he’d gladly buy you a million more Bunji’s just to see you this happy again.
A few weeks pass by with you cuddling Bunji every night, often sending his picture to Heeseung as the two of you text ‘good night’. One day, you looked at Bunji with sad eyes. You and your friends are going on a trip for two weeks which means Bunji will be alone for a while. But then, an idea popped into your head…
You stood in front of Heeseung with Bunji cradled in your arms, your expression serious despite the soft plushie nestled against your chest. You two were in a quiet corner of the company building.
“It’s your turn to watch over Bunji,” you declared, holding out the bunny plushie toward Heeseung.
He blinked, staring at you and the plushie. “Wait, what?”
“I’m going on a trip, Hee. I won’t be home for two weeks,” you explained, your tone as if this were a matter of utmost importance. “Bunji can’t stay all alone, so it’s your responsibility to take care of him now. You’re the dad.”
Heeseung stared at you, then at Bunji, then back at you. “Angel, you do realize this is a plushie, right?”
Your eyes narrowed, and you placed Bunji into his hands, crossing your arms. “Excuse me, Bunji is part of our family. Don’t act like he’s just a plushie.”
Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh at how serious you were about it. “Okay, okay. I’ll take care of Bunji while you’re gone. But… are there instructions or something? Does he have a bedtime?”
You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Hmm… he doesn’t need a bedtime, but he does need cuddles, especially if you’re watching movies. Oh, and don’t leave him in random places, okay? He doesn’t like being forgotten.”
Heeseung grinned, playing along. “Got it. Cuddles during movies and no abandonment. Anything else?”
You leaned in, your expression softening. “Just… take care of him. It’s silly, I know, but Bunji kind of makes me feel like home. So… if he’s with you, it’s like I’m there, too.”
His teasing demeanor faded, replaced by something gentler. He nodded, holding Bunji a little closer. “Don’t worry, Angel. I’ll take good care of him.”
You  beamed, clearly satisfied. “Good. I expect updates, by the way. Photos, videos—proof that Bunji’s okay.”
Heeseung laughed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You’re unbelievable. But fine, you’ll get your updates. Bunji’s in good hands.”
As you left to prepare for your trip, Heeseung glanced down at Bunji in his hands. The bunny’s stitched smile seemed to mock him a little, but he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his own lips.
“Well, Bunji,” he said, placing the plushie on his couch. “Looks like it’s you and me for a while. Let’s make her proud, huh?”
When Heeseung brought Bunji back to the Enhypen dorms, it was safe to say that chaos ensued.
Heeseung strolled into the living room with the bunny plushie tucked under his arm like it was the most normal thing in the world. Jungwon was the first to notice, his sharp eyes narrowing as he pointed dramatically.
“Hyung… what is that?”
Heeseung raised an eyebrow, holding up Bunji for everyone to see. “This is Bunji. Y/n asked me to take care of him while she's on a trip.”
Jay nearly choked on his water. “Wait, you’re babysitting a plushie?!”
“Yes,” Heeseung replied matter-of-factly, placing Bunji gently on the couch like he was tucking in a child. “She said Bunji’s part of the family.”
Jake leaned over, inspecting the plushie like it was some kind of rare artifact. “So… what exactly are you supposed to do with it?”
“Cuddles during movies, no abandonment, regular photo updates,” Heeseung recited like he’d been given a manual.
The room erupted in laughter.
“Hyung, are you seriously going along with this?” Sunoo asked, barely able to contain his giggles.
Heeseung shrugged, smoothing out Bunji’s ears. “Of course I am. It makes Y/n happy.”
The teasing didn’t stop there. Niki grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around Bunji like a swaddle. “Don’t worry, Bunji. Uncle Ni-ki’s got your back if Dad messes up.”
“Uncle Ni-ki?” Jay snorted. “Then what does that make the rest of us?”
“Godparents,” Jake chimed in without missing a beat.
Heeseung rolled his eyes, though the corners of his lips twitched upward. “Laugh all you want, but Bunji’s staying here, and you all better treat him with respect.”
Later that night, Heeseung sent you  a picture of Bunji perched on the couch, surrounded by the members. Ni-ki was holding up a peace sign, Sunghoon looked begrudgingly amused, and Jake had the blanket still wrapped around the plushie. The caption read:
“Bunji’s safe and sound, surrounded by his ‘uncles.’”
You replied almost instantly:
“Aww you’re such a good dad, Hee. 🐰💗”
Despite the initial teasing, the members eventually warmed up to Bunji’s presence, even jokingly assigning him a spot on their couch. And whenever Heeseung caught sight of the little plushie, it reminded him of your beaming smile—and that made all the teasing worth it.
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flemingology · 3 months ago
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business casual ─ alexia putellas x reader
in which: alexia dresses up the ballon d'or
warnings: nothing, slightly suggestive at the end
wc: 1.9K
a/n: wrote this in an hour or two. saw alexia's look and couldn't resist it lol. first piece for her! hope you enjoy :)
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Ballon d'Or night. One of the most anticipated nights of the year. Especially for your girlfriend. Having won two of the awards herself, she was well acquainted with the prestige that came with the event.
Just like last year, though, the ceremony took place right in the middle of Alexia's international break. She'd cursed the people in charge for the ridiculous planning last year, but seemingly it hadn't gone any better this time around. Flying out from their national camp wasn't the most ideal situation, but Alexia thanked her lucky stars that the RFEF were quite loose around the whole ordeal – allowing her and her national teammates the time and space to fly over to Paris.
Despite her best efforts, Alexia knew she wasn't going to win it this year. She'd put her bets on Aitana or Caroline, who both had an incredibly year of football under their belt. The Spanish midfielder, who had still been struggling with niggles throughout the past season, wasn't tipped as one of the favorites for the award this year. Not that she minded, though. She'd won the award twice and was more than happy for her teammates to be showered in the praise that they deserved. All in all, Alexia always enjoyed her nights at the ceremony, winning an award or not.
Just like every year, though, the Spaniard wasn't planning on giving you any insight on what she was going to wear. Everybody knew that one of the big things about the Ballon d'Or – footballers and awards aside – was all about the stars rocking up the red carpet in quite the glamorous outfits. Alexia had tried to convince you a couple times to come with her to Paris, but you weren't the one for all the media attention. You much rather stayed on your couch back in Barcelona, watching the live stream like a hawk, attentively eyeing the arriving taxis to try and catch a glimpse of your girlfriend.
A quick glance at your watch told you the time was nearing 7, so you knew she had to be about done with the preparations of her look. You decided to send her a text.
To: Amor ❤️ "Go have a good time tonight, baby. Orgulloso de ti. I love you ❤️"
You knew how much Alexia adored it when you mixed your usual English with some Spanish, forever a sucker for you speaking her mother tongue. You'd gone out of your way to try and master the language, knowing how much it meant to her if you'd be able to communicate to the part of her family that didn't know the English language as well as she did. You hadn't anticipated a text back at all, but you were pleasantly surprised at the buzz of your phone a couple moments later.
From: Amor ❤️"Eres el mejor. Thinking about you. I'll call you later 😘"
A little over an hour had passed when Alexia finally emerged on the livestream. You were caught up with cooking dinner, your laptop stood on the counter behind you while you were prepping your vegetables. You turned around, planning to throw the diced tomatoes in a different bowl, but your actions got cut short when you caught a glimpse of your girlfriend on the screen.
"My God," you breathed out silently. Vegetables completely forgotten about, you quickly put your cutting board back down and turned your full attention towards your laptop. She was wearing a striped, charcoal-colored pair of trousers, combined with nothing but a suit vest that tied at her waist. The vest showed the perfect amount of cleavage and chest, leaving just enough to the imagination. She wasn't wearing loads of make-up, but it was visible, just as you knew she liked it. Her hair was perfectly slicked back into a bun, her ears adorning a pair of sparkling earrings that perfectly accentuated the simplicity of the look. She looked incredible. You weren't expecting anything less, but she never failed to take your breath away in moments like these.
You watched her pose for the cameras on the red carpet, accompanied by all her Barcelona teammates, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from her. Now it was your turn to scold the decision to hold the event during international break, mourning the opportunity for her to come home to you and you to admire her look in the flesh. Before long, the camera panned away from her and caught a bunch of new arrivals, which you took as your cue to try and continue your dinner preparations.
As much as you were distracted by her and her look, and she clouded your thoughts at any given moment, you managed to cook yourself a meal. The ceremony well underway by now, you plopped down on the couch and watched the rest. Barcelona were crowned as Team of the Year, Alexia receiving the award in name of her team. You decided to try your luck and send the Spaniard another text. You knew she didn't keep her phone on her during events like these, but maybe you'd get lucky and get a response from her within a couple hours when she was in her hotel room.
To: Amor ❤️ "Ale, you look amazing. You've outdone yourself. I'm so in love with you. Me dejas sin aliento cada vez."
As the night went on, the camera kept panning towards your girlfriend. As one of the biggest stars in the room, it was expected for her to have quite some time on air, but it was starting to have its toll on you. Your girlfriend looked incredible but here you were, at home, hours away from your lover. You wanted nothing more than to be there with her, to be able to see her after the ceremony and really show her how much you liked her outfit.
A dull ache started forming between your legs and you knew it was only going to get worse throughout the evening. Without the prospect of having your girlfriend around, you knew it was going to be a long night.
Before long, the ceremony ended and you decided to make your way upstairs. It was quite late already, the event stretching out into the late hours of the night, so you decided it would be best for you to try and get some rest before Alexia inevitably called you up deeper in the night.
You'd managed to get a couple hours of sleep before your body got abruptly woken by the shrill noice of Alexia's ringtone blaring through your bedroom. You had put your volume to the maximum, knowing you were quite the deep sleeper, and you were glad that it had worked. You palmed your nightstand with one eye open looking for your phone, nearly declining her call before you managed to get it with you on the mattress, accepting her call and putting her on speaker.
"Hola, amor," Alexia quipped, her voice still quite energetic despite the late hour she called at. You glanced at the clock on your night stand, reading 1:36am. "Hi, baby," you replied, a small smile creeping up your face upon hearing the voice of your girlfriend. "How are you?"
"Mhm, good. Thank you. How are you?" you heard rustling in the background, assuming she was getting into bed. "Good. A little tired, though", you didn't want to make Alexia feel bad but her response seemed like you did. "Lo siento, amor. Do you want me to let you sleep? I know it's late," you shook your head at that but quickly verbally disagreed, realizing she couldn't see you through the phone. "No, no. I've missed you and I'm glad I'm speaking to you."
"Did you watch?" a slight chuckle escaped your lips, Alexia's question almost felt like mockery. "Of course I did, Ale. You never let me know what you're going to wear beforehand, so I have to find out through the stream!"
You didn't have to see her face to know that she had a shit-eating grin on her face now. "Mhm, I guess you're right. What did you think?" you rolled your eyes as a slight smile tugged on the corner of your lips. "What did I think? I told you through text, no?" you decided you could tease her a little before giving her what she wanted.
You heard a faint groan on the other side of the call. "Si, you did."
"Kidding, bébé. You looked perfect, honestly. You know how much I love it when you wear a suit vest. It accentuates your chest perfectly," you finished, your mind already thinking back about how good your girlfriend looked in her outfit tonight. "I knew you'd like it. Nice surprise?" you thought about how the way she looked left a throbbing between your legs throughout the rest of the night. "Very nice surprise. Just a shame that I can't get to show you just how much I appreciated the way you looked tonight."
Alexia hummed, an amused lilt seeping through. "Anything specific on your mind?" you didn't know how to approach this, not knowing whether Alexia was feeling a change of mood at this time of the night. "Well, let's say that you had me thinking about all the things I would do to you if you'd let me take that suit off you," Alexia let out a deep breath. "Dios mio, amor. You know there's nothing I would've wanted more than to come home to you tonight and let you take it off me."
Alexia's words did nothing to soothe the aching between your legs, if anything it only spurred you on further. "Ale," you started, taking a deep breath trying to ground yourself. "You have to stop right now," you tried to sound deterministic. "Why?" she quipped back, clearly enjoying the way she was working you up. "Because I'm already worked up, and you're not here, so you can't do anything about it. If I want to be able to get some sleep later, you need to turn it down a little."
"Who says I can't help you?" Alexia's words were spoken softly, almost as if she was unsure about what she was proposing. You frowned before speaking up. "Hmm? What do you mean?" a couple moments passed before the Spaniard spoke again. "I don't know, maybe we could be on the phone while you,..." Alexia trailed off, but you remained silent, wanting her to voice what she wanted. "...while you take care of what I started."
Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red at the proposition she just made. "You want to talk me through it... over the phone?" you tried, wanting to make sure that the both of you were on the same page. "Sí, si quieres?"
"Yeah," you breathed out nervously, feeling the thrill of the newness of the situation. You and Alexia hadn't done anything like this before. You'd shared a couple pictures and videos with each other while the midfielder was at camp, trying to bridge the couple weeks that she was away, but you had never thought about phone sex. It wasn't something that had been brought up yet and you hadn't deemed it as something either of you two needed, the both of you more than satisfied with your sex life at was, but you couldn't deny the pang of arousal that shot towards your core every time you thought about Alexia talking you through your orgasm over the phone.
"Yeah, I want this." "Perfecto, corazón. Now spread your legs and let me make you feel good."
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not-magdi · 14 days ago
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-rompers, strollers and so much more / lando norris
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Warnings: none just some fluff
Words: 907
Reading Time: 3 min 37 sec
A/N
This could be seen as a part two to the first story but this can also be read as a stand-alone.
Part one (if anyone is interested)
Hope you enjoy reading it !
The golden Monaco sun bathed the cobblestone streets as Y/N and Lando strolled hand in hand toward the boutique baby store. Y/N’s free hand rested instinctively on her growing belly, and she couldn’t help but smile at how real everything was starting to feel. At five months pregnant, her bump was pronounced enough to draw gentle attention from passersby, and she wore it with quiet pride.
Lando gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his other hand occasionally brushing against her belly as though he couldn’t resist making a connection with their little one. “Our first official baby shopping trip,” he said, grinning. “Big day, huh?”
“It really is,” Y/N agreed, her eyes sparkling. “We’re actually buying things for her. It feels so… real now.”
“It does,” Lando replied, his grin widening. “Let’s spoil her a bit, yeah?”
When they stepped into the boutique, the pastel paradise of tiny clothes, plush toys, and elegant strollers greeted them. Y/N’s gaze darted around in awe. “This place is adorable,” she said softly, her eyes catching on a display of baby shoes no bigger than her palm.
“And overwhelming,” Lando added, scanning the room. “Where do we even start?”
Y/N laughed. “How about clothes? That seems like a safe start.”
Lando nodded and followed her to a rack of tiny onesies. He immediately pulled one out and held it up. “Okay, how about this?” he asked, showing her a white onesie with “Daddy’s Little Champion” written in gold script across the front.
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You’re already dreaming of her racing career, aren’t you?”
“Well, yeah,” he said, pretending to puff out his chest. Then, turning toward her bump, he crouched slightly and spoke to it. “What do you think, baby girl? You’d look great in this, wouldn’t you? It’s got a winning vibe.”
Y/N chuckled, running a hand through Lando’s curls. “You know she can’t actually answer you, right?”
Lando looked up with a playful pout. “Not yet, but I’m practicing. She’s probably nodding in there.” He kissed Y/N’s belly lightly and straightened. “We’re getting it.”
Y/N shook her head with a smile but let him toss the onesie into their shopping basket.
As they sifted through the racks, Y/N picked up a soft pink romper with tiny bunny ears on the hood. “Lando, look at this. Isn’t it the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”
Lando reached over to feel the fabric. “That’s soft,” he said, then crouched again to talk to the bump. “What do you think, little one? Wanna be a bunny for Dad and Mum? I think you’d look pretty adorable.”
Y/N placed a hand on her bump, feeling a faint flutter of movement. Her smile widened. “I think she agrees with you.”
“See?” Lando said triumphantly. “She’s got great taste already.”
By the time they moved on from the clothes section, their basket was already brimming with pastel onesies, patterned leggings, and a knitted blanket Y/N couldn’t resist.
In the toy section, Y/N picked up a soft plush giraffe and pressed it to her cheek. “Do you think she’ll like this?”
Lando took it from her, holding it up in front of Y/N’s belly. “What do you think, baby girl? A giraffe for your room? We could name it Gerald. Gerald the Giraffe.” He made the giraffe “walk” along the shelf, pretending it was racing another toy.
“You’re such a child,” Y/N said, though her laughter betrayed how much she loved seeing his playful side.
“Hey, I’m practicing for playtime,” Lando replied, tossing the giraffe into their basket. “You’ll see. She’ll love it.”
When they reached the stroller section, they were met with rows of sleek, high-tech options. “Who knew strollers could be so complicated?” Y/N murmured, reading one of the tags. “This one says it has an all-terrain suspension system. Are we planning on taking her hiking?”
Lando crouched down to inspect the wheels. “You never know. Maybe we’ll need to get her to the track over gravel or something.”
“Of course,” Y/N said with a roll of her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress a smile.
After testing several models—and after Lando insisted on pushing each one in a short lap around the aisle to test its “maneuverability”—they settled on a sleek grey stroller that folded easily and looked modern and practical.
“This is the one,” Lando declared, patting the handle. “What do you think, baby girl? Does it pass the test?” He crouched one last time, resting a hand on Y/N’s belly. “You’ll be cruising around Monaco in style in this bad boy.”
“She’s not even born yet, and you’re already making her sound like a diva,” Y/N teased, though her voice was soft with affection.
“She deserves the best,” Lando said simply, standing and slipping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders.
As they approached the checkout counter, Y/N leaned into Lando, her hand resting on her bump. “This feels so real now,” she said softly. “Like she’s already a part of our lives.”
“She is,” Lando said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “And I can’t wait to meet her. She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger.”
They left the store with bags in hand, their hearts full as they walked down the bustling street. Every tiny onesie, every plush toy, and every little item they had picked out felt like a promise to their baby girl—a promise of love, care, and the beautiful life that was waiting for her.
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Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !❤️
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pandapetals · 3 months ago
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Chores
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You try to get out of doing chores by flirting with Logan.
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
divider credit: @enchanthings
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"I love you," you said, standing on your tiptoes to press a sweet, lingering kiss to Logan's lips, giving him your best wide-eyed, innocent look as you pulled back.
Logan narrowed his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice low and amused, "I love you too, but you can't say that just to get out of chores."
You sighed dramatically, making a big show of taking the laundry basket from his hands. "Fine," you huffed, "though it usually works."
Logan’s eyebrow shot up, his smirk widening. "Does it, now? Pretty sure it never works," he drawled, crossing his arms as he watched you with that glint in his eye.
"Oh, please," you scoffed, giving him an exaggerated eye roll. "Usually, I just look up at you with these adorable, puppy-dog eyes…" You leaned in closer, batting your lashes dramatically, “…and then you fold like a cheap lawn chair."
Logan scoffed, leaning back slightly as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "I do not fold," he replied, though you could see the hint of a smile breaking through his mock-serious expression. "I’m not that easy, darlin’."
"Yes, you are," you teased, nudging him playfully. "I bet you’ll fold right now if I try hard enough."
Logan’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he crossed his arms, looking down at you with a challenge in his gaze. "Alright, then," he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, rough tone that always made your stomach flutter. "Let’s see who folds first."
You grinned, accepting his unspoken challenge. You sat the laundry basket down. "Fine," you said, stepping up close to him, your fingers lightly tracing the collar of his shirt. "I’ll just keep saying cute little things until you’re putty in my hands."
He chuckled, though you could tell he was already fighting to keep a straight face. "Go on, then," he challenged, his arms still crossed. "Give it your best shot, sweetheart."
You tilted your head, giving him your sweetest smile as you trailed a finger along his jawline. "You know, you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met," you said softly, batting your eyelashes. "All gruff and rugged… but with a heart of gold."
Logan’s lips twitched, but he held firm, his arms tightening across his chest. "Nice try," he replied, his voice sounding a little strained. "But flattery ain’t gonna cut it."
"Oh, really?" You bit your lip, pretending to think, then leaned in even closer, your face barely an inch from his. "Did I mention that I’m hopelessly, madly in love with you? That I think about you every second of the day, even when I’m supposed to be doing something else?"
Logan let out a small, almost inaudible breath, and you could see his resolve beginning to waver. His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you knew you were getting to him.
"That all you got, darlin'?" he murmured, though his voice had dropped to a whisper.
You smirked, sensing victory. "Oh, no," you whispered back, reaching up to gently trace your fingers along the back of his neck. "I’ve got plenty more."
Before he could react, you stood on your tiptoes, brushing your lips along the line of his jaw, then murmured against his skin, "You know you can’t resist me, Logan. You’re already melting."
Logan's breath hitched, and he exhaled slowly, the last of his resolve slipping away as he dropped his arms and wrapped them around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Alright, alright," he grumbled, but his voice was soft, his eyes locked onto yours with that familiar warmth. "Fine. You win."
You grinned triumphantly, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. "See?" you whispered between kisses, "Told you you’d fold."
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips quirking up in that lopsided grin. "You might’ve won this time," he murmured, "but don’t think I won’t make you pay for it later."
"Oh, I’m counting on it," you replied, your voice filled with laughter as he pulled you in again, his grip on you tightening.
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queenimmadolla · 11 months ago
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𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝
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Summary: A glimpse into Eddie’s morning as a first time and young dad with his baby. Oh, and you’re there, too.
Warnings: allusions to sexy stuff, descriptions of breastfeeding (it’s natural—suck it up), and fluff.
a/n: pulled this one out of the vault for you guys, written last July. hope you like it!
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Eddie’s up before you and surprised to see it’s light outside, a sight he hasn’t woken up to in the last couple of months. Two, to be exact.
  That’s when the two of you had brought Penny home.
  Eddie yawned, impressively loud before he slapped a hand over his mouth, gaze flickering to you but you were still asleep; on your stomach with your face partially hidden in your pillow. You’d successfully kicked the sheets off yourself in your sleep, leaving your legs bare and your top half covered with one of Eddie’s larger shirts. 
  One of your legs was bent at the knee and raised up near your elbow.
  God, you always looked so fucking delectable. All he’d have to do is rouse you with some kisses pressed to your neck, settle himself behind you, pull his boxers down and move your panties to the side and he could just—
  Eddie inhaled sharply, tearing his gaze away from your body before his blood could rush off to an area he didn’t have the time to acknowledge, as the very reason he couldn’t partake in his little fantasy cooed from her crib. 
  She’d been the result of a very similar event.
  He took a couple of moments to calm himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he promised, soon.
  Then he got out of bed, snagging a band t-shirt from the dresser as he walked to the crib on the other end of the room.
  Eddie yanked on the shirt—only briefly struggling with the arm holes—before he was peering into the crib, mouth breaking out in a megawatt grin.
  Penny was awake alright, big brown eyed stare focused on a sticker that had been plastered to the wall of his room long before she was even conceived. You’d swaddled her before putting her to bed last night, so she looked like an adorable, content burrito.
  Once she realized Eddie was hovering over her, the sticker lost her attention and those big beautiful eyes were on him, sparkling as her mouth parted in a gummy smile big enough to rival his own. 
  Daddy came to rescue her from confinement. 
  “Hi, baby, good morning!” Eddie cooed, trying his best to excitedly whisper so as to not disturb you, but he couldn’t help it. He was still so thrilled—and fucking terrified—to be a dad, to have that cute face peering up at him every morning and waiting for him when he got home from work. She always looked at him like he was the greatest thing to walk the earth, always so delighted to see her daddy.
  Even though she’d start crying for you the moment you came into view—but you had an advantage he lacked, you always had her food on you. Her walking meal ticket.
  And Eddie couldn’t even blame her, he was a huge fan of your boobs and he’d even bet he appreciated them more than Penny. 
  Eddie reached into the crib, tugging the tucked in corner of the blanket out and as the blanket around her loosened, Penny’s arms shot up near her head, her tiny body arching as she stretched for a comically long period of time. Eddie chuckled, using it to his advantage, he slipped an arm behind her back and head with the other supporting her bottom as he picked her up, pressing a kiss to her head (and giving her hair a secret little sniff to get a whiff of that baby scent of hers).
  “Did you sleep good, honey?” He cradled her in one arm, tucked close to his chest as he carried her out of the room to start on breakfast. 
  Penny obviously didn’t answer, head resting against his collarbone.
  “Heard you woke up mom last night—well, early this morning, I guess—with boobie demands.”
  Eddie pulled the fridge open, hovering in front of it as he debated on its contents before selecting the cartridge of eggs.
  He didn’t want to put Penny down, happy to have her curled up in his arms, so a simple breakfast would have to do. A pan was pulled out, so was a little bit of cooking oil and soon Eddie was breaking the eggs out of the shell—angling his body to the side so Penny wasn’t at risk of possible oil splash back—and letting them cook.
  “You like eggs?” Eddie asked, stepping a little ways from the stove as he hitched her higher on his chest and held the eggshells out for her to see.
  She kicked her legs, a roll covered arm shakily reaching out towards the shells but Eddie kept them out of her reach.
  “Uh-uh, no sticky fingers for you, young lady.”
  The shells were tossed in the trash can but Penny didn’t care, twisting her upper so her chest was pressed to his. She gripped his shirt loosely in her chunky fist as she leaned forward and mouthed at his shoulder, effectively soaking the area with her drool before she began to suckle.
  “Jesus, you act like we starve you.” Eddie chuckled, reaching for a recently washed pacifier to pop into her mouth.
  She seemed to prefer it over his shirt, doing a full body sigh once she was suckling on it, with her need partially sated (eddie knew he had about fifteen minutes to wrap up breakfast before she realized nothing was coming from it and would start crying), Penny went back to cuddling into his chest. 
  She was starting to be a little more active—not sleeping as much as she did this time last month but for the most part, her movements were still unstable. She had good neck control (you’d had to pin Eddie down to keep him from picking her up when she’d immediately cry upon being put down for tummy time), she liked to kick her legs like she was about to take off for a marathon, but she still couldn’t quite hold things for long (unless it was hair or fingers) and had yet to roll over without you cheating and nudging her the rest of the way.
  Speaking of making Penny do things…
  Eddie lost to his intrusive thought, rearranging his hold on Penny so he was gently grasping her sides as he placed her feet on the counter. Immediately, she popped down to squat before shooting up again. And then she did it once more, getting comfortable with using her legs.
  She didn’t even seem to wonder why Eddie was making her stand, she was more focused on staring intensely at her own feet.
  Then Eddie made her jump, lifted her up and down and up and down, and when that got her smiling wide enough for her pacifier to fall out of her mouth, Eddie moved onto the cabinets.
  “Go, baby, go!” He turned her on her side, miming the motions of her chunky legs running over the top cabinets like some baby ninja and laughing at how big her smile managed to keep getting, her big eyes squinting with it.
  “What are you doing to my baby?” You asked as you emerged from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from your eyes.
  “She’s gonna be the next Karate Ki—hello.”
  Eddie couldn’t help himself, dark gaze trailing over your figure as you stood there, hair a wreck, no pants, oversized t-shirt—ooh, and a leaking nipple. 
  Eddie’s favorite. Yum.
  You followed his gaze, scoffing at the dark stain growing over your left boob, hand pressing against it to stop it as if you were applying pressure to a wound.
  “It heard her,” You pouted, lip stuck out and wobbling at him as you referenced your body’s response to the sound of your baby. Crying, giggling, whimpering—didn’t matter, your milk ducts went into overdrive, aware that your baby was conscious and could need a feeding. Her baby noises were like a trigger sequence.
  Eddie lifted Penny to his face, pressing fervent kisses into the chub of her cheeks, “Score for you, babe!”
  You rolled your eyes, completely, utterly fond and smitten over the interaction. He briefly abandoned the kitchen to hand her to you after you’d made yourself comfortable on the couch, ready to fall to his knees in adoration.
  You pulled the shirt over your breast, and despite trying to place your nipple in her mouth for her, Penny struggled to find it, mouthing greedily at your boob, her little head turning this way and that way but always missing the peak. 
  “Girl, it’s right there.” You laughed. Penny gave it like four more seconds of trying before her whimpers kicked in and you hurriedly managed to get her to latch, stopping the outburst.
  And just like that, Penny was content, making satisfied little squeaks as she nursed and stared up at you, pretending like she hadn’t been moments away from screaming her lungs out.
  And Eddie was distracted, solely focused on the two of you and how he wanted to roll around on the carpet because the cuteness aggression was almost unbearable. If this was how he would be spending every work-free morning for the rest of his life, he was ready to convert to being a morning person.
  Especially if those big sparkly eyes and that gummy smile would be staring up at him. GOD-she was so stinking cute. He wanted to smother her in his affection, but she was growing annoyed with Eddie all up in her face and squishing the chub she was accumulating. She even cried if he faked chewed on her chunky cheeks for too long.
  “What’s that smell?” You asked, snapping him out of his love stupor as you sniffed loudly.
  “FUCK!” Eddie bolted back to the kitchen, smoke surrounding the pan and what had once been edible eggs, “Hey, honey, what’s your opinion on extra crispy eggs? You a risk taker?”
“The answer to that is hurting my nipple right now.”
“Valid. That was a very fun risk.”
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divider ℗ cafekitsune ♡
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lacydollette · 3 months ago
Note
PLEASE I BEG YOU <3 Drew x Journalist Reader. Got this idea based off just seeing Drew having a short interview by a girl at the Newport beach event who was a bit nervous and asked him a question twice. Maybe you can base it off that. Reader is not the most confident, a bit shy snd awkward sometimes. She messes up for her short interview with him and feels so embarressed but Drew found it adorable since it just shows that she's human and ''real'' in a sense. Maybe Drew tries to lock eyes with her throughout the event, from him being on stage, standing in the audience listening to others, but she is like ¨''Ain't no way. It's just a coincidence ''.......but you know....he tries further to make contact
a/n BIG YES!! I saw that interview too and it was just too cute not to write about, so this request definitely came in handy. So thank you.
warnings actor!drew x journalist!reader, reader is kinda awkward, drew being a sweetheart as usual, reader is in her mid 20’s, stangers to lovers kinda trope
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The crowd buzzed with excitement as you stood near the edge of the red carpet, clutching your microphone and a notepad filled with carefully prepared questions. The premiere of Outer Banks Season 4 was a major event, and the energy was incredibly high. The cast was expected to arrive any minute, and you felt your nerves getting the best of you at the thought of meeting Drew Starkey. Your Drew Starkey. Well, not exactly yours, but you'd been a fan for years, and he'd long since occupied a special place in your heart as your celebrity crush.
Taking a deep breath, you repeated your questions silently, hoping it would calm you. But just as you started to relax, you spotted him. Drew Starkey, looking effortlessly handsome and radiating that natural charm that seemed to captivate everyone around him. He was posing for photographers, his smile warm and his energy unmatched. He felt good—excited, proud, and ready to talk about the new season. But he was also looking forward to something else tonight: connecting with people who genuinely loved the show. Sometimes, he missed that raw, unscripted connection during events like this.
'Come on, y/n. You can do this',
you reminded yourself. You usually felt so confident in these situations, but Drew seemed to have a unique effect on you, making you feel like a nervous wreck. Your cheeks were already heating up, and your heart beat faster as you raised a hand and gave him a small wave once he was finished with photos.
Drew spotted you and smiled, giving a nod before making his way over. There was something different about you. Drew grinned to himself, charmed by your genuine energy. Your mind raced, and you frantically tried to remember your opening question, but it seemed to have vanished as soon as he was close enough to hear you.
"Uh, hi! Drew... Starkey..." you stammered, mentally kicking yourself as your cheeks flushed even redder. Drew had to hold back a chuckle as you stammered. "Sorry, I—I mean, obviously you're Drew. So, uh, how—how does it feel to, um, be here?"
A small smile played on Drew's lips as he tilted his head, clearly amused and a little charmed. "It feels pretty amazing," he answered gently, giving you his full attention. "I think you might be the first person to be nervous to talk to me tonight, though."
You felt yourself relax, if only a bit. He didn't seem to mind your awkwardness, and his laid-back attitude made it easier for you to laugh at yourself. "I don't usually get this flustered," you admitted, "but, uh, meeting your favorite actor is a little... intimidating."
Drew's eyebrows lifted slightly. Favorite actor? He felt a warmth spread through him, more flattered than he'd expected, his blue eyes sparkling with adoration. "Well, now you're just making me feel special," he teased gently, leaning just a touch closer. "But don't worry, I'm not here to judge. Actually, it's refreshing to meet someone who isn't just asking the same scripted questions."
You couldn't help but smile at his words. He was down-to-earth and easygoing, making you feel at ease despite your earlier awkwardness. It almost felt like you were old friends catching up rather than journalist and actor.
"Okay," you said, determined to pull it together. "So, if you could sum up Season 4 in just three words, what would they be?" Drew thought for a moment, letting his mind go back to the season they'd just wrapped. "Adventurous, intense... and wild," he said, grinning. "I think the fans are going to love it."
You nodded, managing to regain some of your confidence. "Thank you, Drew. And just so you know, Outer Banks fans will always be here for every wild ride you give us." The way you said it, with that sincerity, had him smiling from ear to ear. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, meeting your eyes. "It's good to know there are people who care about the story as much as we do."
As he moved on, Drew felt lighter, the encounter lingering in his thoughts. There was something refreshing about you—authentic, unpolished, and kind. It was exactly the kind of conversation that reminded him why he loved doing what he did.
While he walked further away from you, you couldn't help but replay the interview with Drew in your mind as you drifted through the rest of the event. You had been a little starstruck, sure, but he'd been so warm and kind that it had made you feel strangely comfortable, almost like you'd got to know each other for more than just a few brief minutes.
And just like you had trouble forgetting about your encounter, Drew couldn't shake the memory of you either—the way your cheeks flushed, the slight tremble in your voice. Drew couldn't quite explain it, but there was something that pulled him back toward you, something he hadn't felt with anyone in a long time.
When he stepped up onto the stage with the rest of the Outer Banks cast, ready for the Q&A session, his gaze instinctively drifted back into the crowd, scanning the audience. Then he found you, standing off to the side with your notepad tucked under your arm, looking just as captivated as before. You were listening attentively to the panel, your attention fully on the cast—Drew was as charismatic as ever, grinning and laughing alongside his colleagues.
But several times, you could have sworn he was looking directly at you, but you brushed it off, refusing to entertain the thought that he might actually be looking at you. He's just scanning the crowd, you thought. There's no way he'd be singling me out.
Yet, each glance felt so intentional, his gaze warm and lingering. Each time you looked his way, Drew caught himself holding your gaze just a little longer than he should, his eyes following you with a subtle, warm curiosity, until you had to look away before you got lost in his eyes again. Still, you convinced yourself that you were being silly. There was no reason that Drew Starkey was staring at you.
But Drew was. He could see the way you tried to hide your reactions, the way you would quickly look away whenever your eyes met, almost as if you were embarrassed by the attention. He thought it was adorable. The more he saw you, the more he knew he wanted to get to know you better.
His gaze followed you even as he answered the crowd's questions, and the small, knowing smile he wore didn't go unnoticed by his co stars, who exchanged teasing glances with each other. They could sense something different about Drew's mood tonight.
After the Q&A ended, Drew made his way through the post-panel mingling, still keeping an eye out for you while you hung back. A couple of times, he seemed to be moving in your direction, and your heart thudded loudly. But then, just as quickly, someone would pull him away for a quick photo or handshake. You shook your head, convincing yourself it was nothing, just your own wishful thinking.
Eventually, you decided to call it a night, making your way out of the bustling venue with a small, satisfied smile. Meeting Drew had been more than you'd expected, a little moment you'd treasure, even if he'd likely never think of you again.
When Drew finally broke away, he glanced back to where you'd been standing, but you were gone, and his heart sank a little. He hadn't even gotten your last name or which media outlet you were with. All he knew was your first name and that undeniable connection he'd felt. Drew had plenty of interactions with fans and journalists over the years, but there was something about you that was different, something he wasn't ready to let go of so easily. There had to be a way to reach out to you again, and he was determined to find it.
He could already picture himself talking to his publicist, describing you—the journalist with the kind smile, the one who didn't ask the usual questions. He would find you, he decided. He wasn't about to let this connection slip through his fingers.
The morning after the premiere, you arrived at work feeling the usual post-event exhaustion. Meeting Drew had been the highlight of your night, and although you'd convinced yourself he was just being friendly, your mind kept replaying the way his eyes had seemed to find yours in the crowd. But now, back in the real world, it was just a fun memory you'd carry with you as you returned to your daily routine.
You set down your coffee, flipped open your laptop, and began your morning tasks: drafting a few responses, diving into some research for your next article and sorting through emails. The office was buzzing as usual, your coworkers catching up on coffee breaks and deadlines. Just another ordinary day—until your eyes caught an email with an unknown addressee.
The message was short and to the point:
Hi y/n,
Drew's Team had a couple of follow-up questions about last night's interview. Would you mind getting in touch with us? The number is below if it's easier for you to reach us directly.
Your heart skipped as you read the last line over and over, your eyes glued to the phone number listed at the bottom of the email. Your hands trembled slightly, your mind racing with possibilities. You felt a small jolt of anxiety—had you messed up somehow? You told yourself to stay calm, to stay professional—but something told you this was more than just a follow-up. You quickly picked up your phone, dialing the number as you took a sip of coffee to calm your nerves.
The line rang a couple of times before a familiar voice answered on the other end, smooth and unmistakably warm. "Hello? Y/n? This is Drew." You choked, your coffee going down the wrong way as you coughed in shock, barely managing to keep your composure. Drew? You hadn't expected this at all.
"Y/n? Are you okay?" he asked, a gentle laugh in his voice that only made your face heat up more. "Y-yes! I'm fine," you stammered, quickly setting your coffee aside as you tried to regain your composure. "Sorry, I just—didn't realize it would be you answering."
Drew chuckled, sounding completely at ease. "Sorry about the surprise. I wasn't sure how to reach out to you and if you'd even pick up if you knew it was me," he teased lightly. "I just wanted to follow up about our conversation last night. And, well...I'm still around today, so I hoped we could grab a coffee later?"
Your heart raced, unable to believe this was happening. You managed to swallow back your surprise and keep your voice steady, even as a smile tugged at your lips. "I... I'd like that," you replied softly, realizing this conversation could lead to more than you'd ever imagined.
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orikiys · 1 year ago
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🔖 、FOUND HOME
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ᘛ 𓏧     ࣪    𖠵 희승 ☓ fem!reader. ꔪ ﹏ ᘒ fluff established relationship implied flirting warning kissing petnames not proofread & 744 words
“do you think we’d still be a couple in an alternate universe?” you groan at the question and cover your face with your arm.
“go to bed.”
“what if we already got married and had five kids?” he mutters with a tone as serious as ever. even though it’s dark you can just feel that he’s not sleepy at all.
“go to bed,” your eyes are still closed yet you can’t hide the sleepy smile stretching your lips out.
a soft laugh escapes your throat when he places an arm over your waist and pulls you closer. even though the bed was big enough, it’s the warmth the radiates off his body that helps you fall asleep every day.
opening your eyes, you look up at him. from the dark all you are able to make out is his messed up hair which is unevenly falling over his eyes and his lips that fortunately never stop smiling.
“can’t sleep?” you whisper, extending your arm towards him and brushing the hair off his forehead. instantly, he closes his eyes with relief spreading all over and manages to mumble out a “no”.
his arms pull you in even more if possible and he tucks your head in his chest holding you as if you were his teddy bear.
“hmm why are you so soft today?” you tease him and when he chuckles, it reverberates in the walls of the room and your chest fills up with fondness at the sound of it. it doesn’t even need to be seen how heeseung would look when he laughs. the corner of his eyes would form crescents like the moon does and there’s always a sparkling glint in his eye that reminds you of all the liveliness and love he is filled with.
“did you go back to sleep, princess?” he mutters and raises his hand to cradle your jaw. his fingers brush against your cheek tenderly and a moment later you feel his warm lips come in contact with your forehead. he places a gentle kiss but doesn’t pull away without making the sound of a loud smooch.
“i wonder where all this love is coming from. is it because i let you watch your football match over my series?” you whisper looking up at him intently. there’s an unspoken agreement that passes between the two of you as heeseung lowers himself just where his lips hover over yours.
without giving it another thought, he holds you by the back of your neck, smiling softly as his lips meet yours in a sweet kiss. when he leans away, his hands still stay glued and distracted from tracing the outlines of your cheek as if it was the easiest thing to do.
“you’re beautiful,” is all he says as he plants another kiss this time heading for your forehead. your eyes remain closed in peace as you relish these moments with him.
living with heeseung has never felt like a mistake. every extra minute you spend with him is a reminder of how many more memories the two of you make. even the corners of the room are a witness of the gas called love that always floats in the air, trapping and holding down the two of you together.
“let’s sleep?” you suggest when you notice how quiet the guy beside you has fallen. turning around so that your back faces him, you drape his arm over your waist and place your hand over it slowly. heeseung shuffles a bit before back hugging you tightly and rests his head in the crook of your neck.
he breathes softly and his face is already at ease considering how all of his muscles have relaxed.
it reminds you of the times when he used to play basketball, he always had the same expression towards the things he adored; you noticed. be it his favourite fruit or his birthday, his eyes can never lie especially when it comes to things called love. and you do consider yourself lucky because one of it is meant just for you.
“i love you,” is the last thing you hear before you hear soft breathing and that’s the time when the world announces that he’s asleep.
you grab his hand softly and raise it to your lips, muttering back the exact words he did before you find sleep pulling you over.
nothing matters at the end of the day except you being wrapped by his warmth.
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neosvcr · 1 year ago
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you were anton's best friend. one of the most important people in the world to him. so how could anton not want to help you after your scumbag of an ex broke your heart. he could treat you so much better, he knew he could. and tonight he wanted so badly to prove that to you. to give you everything you've been missing.
"did that feel good, angel?" anton coos against you, pressing kisses on your clit. he already had you coming on his tongue twice. "come on, baby. you gonna let me make you feel good?" he whispers, absolutely smitten with how well you reacted to him. "what do you want now, honey? want me to dick you down the way you deserve?" the way you wasted no time in nodding your head eagerly, whiny begs leaving your lips had anton chuckling.
"so desperate for me already.." he whispered, his fingers gently stroking the skin of your thighs. he rests his head against your inner thigh and looked up at you, the look and sparkle in his eyes sparkling something novel inside of you. it would be a lie if you said that you'd never imagined him in this way – you had. more times than your like to admit. but this was way better than anything your imagination could come up with, and he could say the same. no other man had ever looked at you in that way before. "you're so pretty, love." he muttered. "so, so pretty. he didn't deserve you." you were the most precious thing in the world to him, and he'd do anything in his power to protect you. he adored you – cared about you perhaps more than a friend should – and you knew that. you knew that all too well. now that he's finally got you underneath him, you're damn right he's going to remind you just how special you are.
praises and reminders of his love and appreciation of you being whispered against your skin as he trailed sweet kisses up your stomach until he reached your lips. "i love you," he breathed against your lips, brushing your hair out of your face. he didn't even give you time to respond before pressing his soft lips against your own as you breathed each other in. it's not like you'd never told each other you loved each other before, you had. it's just that this time it was different.
it's not long until he's stuffing you full of his cock. and when he finally bottoms out, being balls deep inside his pretty girl, he could've sworn he almost came on the spot at the little noises that escaped your lips and the expression on your face. "too big angel?" anton cooed, his tone potentially coming across as condescending depending on how you interpreted it. you nodded, mewling softly as you clawed at his chest. that made him chuckle. "you're gonna have to take it for me if you want me to make you feel good," he said, his tone soft. once you gave him the okay to move, he began thrusting. his strokes were deep and slow, groaning softly against your lips as his fingers laced through your hair. you wrapped around him perfectly, so wet and warm and responsive, all for him. "such a good girl for me.. taking me so well," he whispered shakily.
"you gonna cum?" he asked as he held your hand tightly. "come on, angel. cum for m– fuck, you're so tight- cum for me. cream this cock.. cream my cock, princess." and when you finally do cum together, he kisses your forehead. "you did such a good job, baby. i'm so proud of you." the adoration in both of your eyes was almost overwhelming. you truly were the most beautiful girl in the world to him, but you were even prettier when you came around his cock.
soon enough, you were all cleaned up, in his arms, whispering the sweetest things to each other, the heartbreak you felt a few hours prior at the hands of your ex now being replaced with a newfound love and affection for your best friend.
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neocrias · 6 months ago
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making out with NCT Dream
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warnings: slightly suggestive; some of the stories may be longer than others (we got a bit carried away lol sorry); reader insert; gn reader (mostly)
pairings: dream and reader
gender/aus: fluff; established relationships (or not); casual fling;
other units: 127 II wayv
Mark
You had enough of clubbing. You didn't even know why you had come in the first place. While all your friends already had a date and were dancing happily on the dance floor, you were waiting anxiously on the bar stool with a brightly colored drink in your hand that you sipped from time to time. Was it too stupid to want a fairytale prince to show up and save you from the situation you'd gotten yourself into?
— Do you always come here? — The line startled you, and you turned your stool to the side, ready to roll your eyes at whoever had the nerve to throw that old, lousy line at you. However, you're surprised when it's followed by an adorable giggle and the big shiny black eyes that stare at you when you turn to see the boy. — I'm sorry, I know that was terrible. 
He was beautiful. His insecure smile and low posture revealed that he seemed a little nervous about the interaction - and you found that adorable. He seemed completely harmless.
The boy introduced himself as Mark, and you also introduced yourself to him. He went on to ask a few simple questions, such as “did you come with your friends?” or “do you like the place?”, which didn't spark much of a conversation, but were enough to keep you talking. He shared some information about himself, and you began to notice that with each question he asked, Mark leaned a little closer to you. This made you think that perhaps he wasn't as innocent as you had thought, even if his posture still indicated a certain shyness.
This didn't disappoint you, however, since ever since you had caught sight of Mark's sparkling eyes and trembling lips, you knew you wanted to kiss him. And, after buying you a drink and continuing the gentle but warm conversation, you noticed that even with the close proximity between your body and Mark's, he seemed to have no intention of advancing on you in the way you wanted. Even with his lapses of confidence, leaning his arms lightly on the bar counter, or staring into your eyes without looking away with a look of admiration while you said trivial things, he gave no indication that he was going to go any further without your total acquiescence.
That's why, realizing how much Mark seemed to be asking for that kiss, you leaned in at the rare moment when he stopped talking and closed your eyes, moving closer. 
Even though he was shy, Mark understood what it meant - even too quickly - and was firm in holding the back of your neck and returning the kiss, slowly and almost torturously at first, only to become stronger and faster towards the end. Mark's free hand on the counter reached for yours and rested on top of it, giving it a gentle squeeze. Your heart almost exploded with the tenderness of the newly met boy at that moment, and you felt that this would be just the first of countless kisses between you and Mark. 
Renjun
You were lying on the sofa, trying to finish one of the countless novels you'd ordered a month earlier while Renjun was painting for what seemed like hours. You actually wanted to spend this time with your boyfriend, but he hadn't been able to take a moment to do what he likes for so long that you didn't want to interrupt him, so you just waited.
However, the waiting became more and more difficult as the hours passed and he didn't finish, and you couldn't even read the book in your anxiety. Tired of waiting, you got up from the sofa, leaving the book behind, and walked over to your boyfriend who was sitting at the table.
You hugged him around the shoulders, putting your face in the crook of his neck and giving him several kisses that made him laugh with happiness. Renjun gently released the brush so as not to dirty the drawing and leaned his face back and wrapped his arms around your neck, keeping you in that position. You took advantage of this and left a chaste kiss on his lips, making him smile even more.
Suddenly he closed his eyes and frowned in confusion before asking: — Mary Jane, is that you?
— Oh, you're so funny! — You replied ironically. — You finished?
Renjun turned to face you, putting the painting aside. — I'm neglecting you, aren't I? — He asked with a sad smile. 
— No! — You were quick to deny it. — I just missed you.
He stood up, still holding each side of your hips, then brought one of his hands up to your face to push your bangs out of your face. Slowly, he brought their faces closer, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, before finally bringing their lips together in a tender, romantic kiss. Renjun has a way of making you feel loved.
— What do you want to do? — He asked.
— You can finish your drawing, Junnie, no problem.
— I'd rather kiss my beautiful girlfriend a lot more.
To disguise your happy smile, you bit your lower lip, wrapped your arms around his shoulders and ran your fingers through his soft brown hair. You kissed once more, deeply, and you felt him take small steps forward, leading you both towards the sofa.
Jeno
You don't know how you got into this delicate situation and you don't know how you're going to get out of it without revealing your feelings. Jeno has been your best friend since you were four years old, you two practically grew up together, went to the same schools, had the same friends, liked the same things. With such closeness, it's no surprise that you fell in love with him. Jeno is beautiful, after all.
To disguise the fact that you were completely obsessed with him, you tended to be a little thicker than you would have liked, always cracking some stupid joke to pick on him. Sometimes you decided to take it to a more physical level, putting your foot in front of him to make him trip, or squeezing the water bottle to splash him in the face when he drank.
Jeno always returned the pranks. You understood each other like that. The problem was that I miscalculated all the negative endings that “play fighting” could lead to.
Jeno is strong, much stronger than you, thanks to the gym addiction he developed during his teenage years. It would be easy for him to knock you down or hurt you even if he didn't mean to, which is why he refused, but you kept pushing and provoking him until Jeno gave in.
Now the sight of the muscles tensing around you made you nervous. Jeno noticed your heavy eyes, he also noticed the little bites on your lips every time he pulled you slightly tighter. Your reactions were a confirmation of what he had suspected for some time and a relief for the conflicting feelings he felt.
Jeno has had a crush on you for a while and used to get jealous every time a guy hit on you. Fortunately, he was able to disguise his own feelings behind a facade of protection, when in reality he wanted to be the one to have you.
You tried to knock him down, but that only made Jeno's grip around your forearm increase, he pulled you closer then grabbed one of your legs knocking you to the ground. You let out a gasp of surprise, still half out of breath he knelt over you, one leg on either side of your hip, as you tried to push him off he grabbed both your arms, pinning them against the floor. Your eyes were wide open, your lips parted, you were breathing heavily and Jeno just wanted to kiss you until you were panting harder.
So he did.
He kissed you with a ferocity that made you let out a low moan of fright and relief, returning the kiss as if you depended on his lips to live. You wiggled your fingers, wishing you had something to hold on to, but Jeno didn't let go, not even when he moved his kisses down to your neck and shoulder. You were already confused and out of breath, but you weren't going to stop him.
Haechan
Haechan is a teasing little pest, always having fun with your annoyance and when you make out it's no different. You don't know why you're still with him, but you have even less reason to stop.
This was the third time he'd approached you only to pull away when you tried to kiss him and it was wearing on your patience. You rolled your eyes and regretted following the boy to the empty balcony, leaving your euphoric friends playing Just Dance behind - at least there you'd only be bored and not completely annoyed by the boy in front of you.
— Oh — He cooed at you — poor kitty wanna kiss me so bad, don't you?
— Asshole! — You replied.
Haechan laughed out loud, throwing his head back as he wrapped his arms around your hips so that you wouldn't run away. — Don't be like that, pretty.
You turned your face away, not wanting to look at him and Haechan pouted, even though he knew you wouldn't see. It was really fun to annoy you, but now he had to think of a way to get you to stop being angry with him.
— You look beautiful when you're angry, you know that? — He asked. He held your chin, turning your face towards him, but you looked away. “Sulky”, he thought. — Hm? — he insisted once more, giving you several kisses in a row and a few more kisses on the cheek.
— You're ridiculous, you know that? — You snapped back, trying to stay nervous, but you couldn't stay angry with him for long. I guess that explains why you've been together for so long.
— You love it!
— Do I? — you asked and he arched an eyebrow as if daring you to lie to him. — Maybe I do.
Haechan smiled and finally kissed you. A real kiss, with tenderness and desire mixed just right. His hand is still holding your face, holding you in place so that you wouldn't escape.
Wanting to provoke him back, you bit his lower lip as soon as he started to pull away and pulled his hair back tightly. Haechan laughed out loud at your audacity and stared at you with heavy eyes. He pushed his tongue against the inside of your cheek and pulled your hair harder, making your head go back and you let go of his hair in surprise. 
— Why aren't you my girlfriend anyway?
— You never asked.
— Do you want to be my girlfriend? — Haechan asked instinctively, as if he'd been waiting for this opportunity for ages.
— I'll think about it.
You joked, but the teasing smile on your lips said everything Haechan needed to know. You were his, just as he was yours.
Jaemin
You regretted coming to this party the moment you got in the Uber, but you'd already spent too much money on the costume to stay at home now. That explains why you're looking for an empty place to hide from the mess of sweaty bodies crammed into the small living room.
— Why are you alone in this corner? Not enjoying the party? — A sweet voice interrupted your regret session, and you turned around to face a boy with a gentle smile and kind eyes.
You knew him well, Na Jaemin, the popular guy in your calculus class. Always giving nice smiles to classmates, teachers, janitors, always getting the best grades, doing the best in extracurricular activities - it's no surprise that he's so popular. What is a surprise is that he noticed you at all.
— Oh, I'm not very good at parties — You replied and automatically wanted to beat herself up for sounding so weird. He'd certainly stay away from you now.
— Poor little thing can't get along? — Jaemin cooed at you, finding your clumsiness funny.
You didn't realize Jaemin's real intentions and that made it all the more interesting for him, who was amused by your naivety. In his eyes you were such a pretty, shy, perfect little thing for him to destroy. In contrast, all you could think about was how nice he was to talk to you and hang out with you when he could have been enjoying the party.
Although amusing, Jaemin was getting tired of you not understanding the hints he was giving you, making it clear that he wanted to kiss you. Then, without you realizing it, he led you down the hallway to the bedrooms, where the guests had been warned not to enter - Jaemin didn't have to worry about being the master of the house.
Then he got closer, one step closer to you every minute. “Silly girl”, he thought as he noticed you walking backwards to create distance between the two of you, not understanding what he wanted. Impatiently, Jaemin circled his arm around your waist, pulling you against him.
He smiled mischievously when he saw your wide eyes and pressed your lips together. Your knee buckled with the hunger with which he kissed you and your eyes closed enjoying the moment, your hands instinctively going up to his shoulders and squeezing hard.
You sighed when he pushed you - gently - against the wall, your free arm supporting the weight of his body as he sprinkled your face, neck and lap with quick kisses and you sank your painted nails into the back of his neck.
Chenle Jeno, your best friend, invited you to watch his basketball game with the boys because that day there was going to be a get-together at the house of Chenle, one of Jeno's friends, after the game.
You hadn't met Chenle before, in fact, you'd only talked to Jaemin and Jisung for a short time before, so you were feeling overwhelmed by the idea of going to a party at the house of a guy you didn't know - but it was because Jeno asked you to.
In the end, it was pretty smooth, the boys were nice, especially Chenle.
He was charismatic, handsome and polite and you didn't avoid watching him during the match. You felt more attracted to him with every basket he made but, despite noticing the quick glances Chenle gave you, you didn't have the courage to approach him.
But he wasn't going to leave it at that, after all, he thought you were pretty the second he laid eyes on you and, after making sure that you and Jeno were nothing but good friends, he made his move.
— Nice of you to come — He said, taking a seat next to you on the wooden deck of the pool and offering you one of the glasses he was holding.  — Did you enjoy the game?
You agreed with a simple “uh huh” as you tasted the drink, it was vodka with energy drink, far from your favorite but fortunately he made sure it wasn't too strong. — You nailed it! — You complimented, turning her face towards him with a restrained smile.
— Yeah? — Chenle asked with a cocky smile, his eyes twinkling mischievously. He tilted his head slightly to one side before saying. — Good, because I decided that all my baskets would be for you as soon as I saw you arrive.
He smirked as soon as he saw you blink repeatedly and look away in embarrassment. He held your chin between his forefinger and thumb, turning your face back to his with a mischievous grin. Chenle noticed the way your eyes drifted down to his mouth, he noticed the way you nervously clamped your lower lip between your teeth, he really wanted to kiss you right then.
He brushed his thumb against your lip, making you release it, and leaned in, kissing you the way he wanted to. Chenle sneaked his hand down to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling them slightly, making your head tilt in the direction he wanted.
Finally, Chenle bit his lip as soon as the kiss ended, but remained with his forehead pressed together and his eyes closed until you were forced apart by the incessant shouting and joking of the friends who had come to take you back to the party.
Jisung
Jisung is a shy boy. In the few classes you attend together, he keeps quiet most of the time, when he's not sleeping at the back of the room. Anyone would think he was just a weirdo, but you know better, his silly, clumsy ways were just the surface of what he was really like - Jisung could be quite silly when he wanted to be.
You should be in your classical literature class right now, but Jisung managed to convince you to skip it, just like all the others. Honestly, you don't know if you're going to be able to pass this class with the amount of absences you've collected because of the upperclassman, but that's okay... Jisung always makes it worthwhile.
He was leaning against the red brick wall, his knees slightly bent to be closer to your height and his legs slightly open so that you could stand between them. Jisung was also holding your hand, playing with the delicate ring on your ring finger, amused at how small your hand was compared to his.
He smirked as he pulled you closer, making you stumble with the sudden movement and, to avoid falling on top of him, you rested your free hand against his shoulder.
— Have I mentioned how pretty you look in red? — He joked in a condescending voice, knowing full well what he was doing.
You rolled your eyes before answering: — You've been more creative, Jisung.
— Can't I compliment my girl anymore? 
— What do you want in return? — You replied without believing the lack of ulterior motives behind the boy's compliments.
— A kiss is enough — he smiled and pushed the tip of his tongue against your cheek before continuing — in thanks.
 You rolled your eyes again, but you wanted it as much as he did, so you let him press your body against his and press your lips together in a deep, slow kiss. Jisung's hands were around your hips, which kept your bodies glued together, sneaking up under the hem of your red T-shirt, leaving an icy trail that chilled your heated skin.
When he reached the curve of your waist, he gently scratched your skin, just to feel you shiver - he made a mental note to thank Chenle for this tip later - and in retaliation you tugged at the brown strands at the back of his neck. Jisung sighed, but that wasn't enough. He brought his hands up again, covering the cup of your bra with his big palms and gave it a shallow squeeze. In shock, you pushed yourself back, away from him - for your own safety and sanity.
— Just a kiss, huh? As if! — You complained, making the boy laugh.
— As if you didn't like it.
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shyhaya · 10 months ago
Note
Hii! Can i plzzzplz request hcs/ or scenario of Barou,Rin, Kunigami and isagi liking the manager of their schools soccer team :DD???
Hi darling, here's your request! please forgive me for taking so long
──────♡──────
Oh Wait, Am I In Love? [Barou Shoei, Itoshi Rin, Kunigami Rensuke & Isagi Yoichi x GN! Reader / SFW]
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❯── Barou ──❮
What an interesting situation.
I don't think he would notice his own feelings towards you until he's in too deep.
His teammates certainly noticed before him but they were all scared of telling him anything.
Nevertheless, maybe he heard them talking about his 'soft' if we can call it that attitude towards you.
He did treat you like a peasant, like everyone else, but he actually listened to you when you talked.
Plus, you got to be around him and even tease him sometimes and not even once he reacted brashly towards you!
Everyone in the team is shocked.
When he finally realizes this fact, his entire view of you changed slightly.
Now he understood why he tolerated your presence and even liked to hang out with you.
He was a bit clueless on how to approach you on this topic, but he's driven by the thought of possibly having even more of your attention.
Congratulations! You've been promoted from useful peasant to the King's consort! :3
──────♡──────
❯── Rin ──❮
This one's tough.
Rin can be dense sometimes, but he was the first one to realize he fancied you.
It wasn't even obvious to anybody else, but he noticed the slight changes. How he found you attractive and not a lukewarm like the others.
He liked your advice and actually followed it, and your presence always helped him concentrate or not during practice and even real games.
But what is Rin Itoshi if not a stubborn brat?
He wouldn't tell you about his feelings right away.
If someone notices his almost kind attitude towards you he would deny it or just say it isn't anyone's business.
Soon though, he gets jealous of the rest of team because they're all nice and close to you.
This would be enough for the dam he built to contain his feelings to break.
He had a feeling you liked him too, so there's no way he's letting you go.
Good luck.
──────♡──────
❯── Kunigami ──❮
Oh, Rensuke baby, love, honey- I'll stop now.
He's clueless at first.
You're really nice to everyone, so he naturally gets along with you.
He doesn't find different how he's soon hanging out with you often he's like a big puppy!
During practice he's focused and still can't help but to glance at your direction, finding you adorable as you watch the practice match and how your eyes sparkle as they meet his.
Every time someone from the team mentions you, he immediately perks up.
His teammates realize this and they are the ones who make him realize.. he did like you, but in a whole different way than the rest of them did.
After that he gets a bit flustered every time you're close or when you get worried if he gets hurt during a game or practice.
He's an honest guy though, so he would tell you. No beating around the bush.
He's hopeful that you'll accept him, and can't wait to have you his own I accept my love, I'll even marry you if you want-
──────♡──────
❯── Isagi ──❮
Man, he realized his feelings for you fast.
He was kinda clueless at first, but after analyzing your interactions and how he couldn't help but to admire you, he accepted he was smitten.
He's the one who's all flustered when you're being your usual kind self and asking him if he's alright.
Stutters a bit more and is distracted by how pretty you are.
It's adorable how he tries to act normal but he's also trying to compliment you and maybe give you some clues about how he feels.
All of his teammates notice this and soon they're all teasing him every time they see him looking at you during practice.
He wants to test the waters first, figure out if you like him before he confesses.
If he notices even a slight chance of you liking him back, then he will take the chance. It's what s striker does anyway.
He's so sweet when he actually tells you.
Please say yes, this guy spent all night thinking of all the possible scenarios of how his confesión would go.
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amirasainz · 15 days ago
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Nothing’s scary when I'm with you
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The moment the car pulled up to the glittering red carpet, the world outside the tinted windows turned into a kaleidoscope of flashing cameras and excited screams. Yn could hear it all—fans chanting her name, photographers yelling instructions at each other to get the best angles, and the low hum of chatter from the crowd behind the barricades. Despite having dreamed of this moment for years, it was a little overwhelming.
“Are you ready, love?” Charles’s warm voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
She turned to him, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of his soft smile. He was impeccably dressed, as always, in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that hugged his frame just right. His tie matched the deep gold accents of her dress—a little detail he insisted on, saying, "I want to match you, mon amour. You're my star tonight."
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Yn replied, her voice steady but laced with nerves.
Charles reached for her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing motion. “You’re going to be amazing out there. You always are. And remember, I’m right here.”
She nodded, feeling the familiar wave of comfort that only Charles could bring. The driver opened the door, and the screams hit a higher pitch. Charles stepped out first, immediately greeted by the chaos of the cameras. He ignored it all, extending his hand to help Yn out of the car.
As soon as she stepped out, the energy of the crowd shifted. The cheers turned deafening, and the photographers’ yells grew frantic.
“Yn! Over here!”
“Yn, you look stunning!”
“Charles, look this way!”
“Yn, how does it feel to star in Gladiator?”
Charles stayed rooted beside her, his hand never leaving hers. The way he looked at her as she stepped into the spotlight was enough to melt her nerves. His gaze was full of pride and admiration, like she was the only person in the world.
“You’ve got this,” he whispered into her ear, his voice low and reassuring.
Yn smiled at him, squeezing his hand before turning her attention to the cameras. She posed gracefully, her confidence growing with each step forward. Her gown shimmered under the bright lights, the intricate gold embroidery catching everyone’s attention.
Charles stayed close, letting her shine but never taking his eyes off her. He wasn’t interested in the cameras or the reporters yelling his name. His entire focus was on Yn—her radiant smile, the way she carried herself with poise, and the soft laugh she let out when he cracked a quiet joke just for her.
“You’re stealing the show,” he teased, leaning closer as they made their way down the carpet.
She chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “I think that’s the point, isn’t it?”
“True,” he agreed, his voice full of playful warmth. “But don’t tell anyone I said this—I think you might be the most beautiful gladiator in history.”
Yn laughed, the sound drawing even more attention from the crowd. The cameras captured the moment perfectly—her genuine laughter and Charles looking at her like she was his whole world.
“Yn, Charles, over here!” one of the photographers shouted. “Can we get a shot of you together?”
Charles raised an eyebrow at Yn, silently asking if she was okay with it. She nodded, and he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“You’re the star,” he murmured as they faced the cameras.
“Not without you,” she replied softly, her words meant only for him.
The flashbulbs went wild as they posed together, Charles standing slightly behind her as if to emphasize that this was her night. But his adoring gaze didn’t go unnoticed—fans on social media were already going crazy over the way he looked at her.
One of the reporters managed to get close enough to ask a question. “Yn, how does it feel to have your big moment here at the premiere of Gladiator?”
“It’s surreal,” Yn admitted, her voice calm despite the overwhelming attention. “This film was such a passion project for everyone involved, and to see it come to life like this is incredible.”
“And Charles,” the reporter turned to him, “how proud are you of Yn tonight?”
Charles’s eyes lit up, his smile widening. “I don’t even have words to describe how proud I am. She worked so hard for this, and seeing everyone recognize that is amazing. She deserves all of it.”
Yn felt a blush creep up her cheeks, and she tilted her head to look at him. “You’re making me sound too good.”
“Impossible,” he replied, his tone earnest.
The fans behind the barricades were eating it up, their screams reaching new heights every time Charles and Yn exchanged a glance or shared a laugh.
“Yn, you’re a goddess!” one fan yelled.
“Charles, you’re the luckiest man alive!” another shouted.
Charles laughed at that, turning to Yn with a playful grin. “They’re not wrong, you know.”
“Stop it,” Yn said, nudging him gently, though she couldn’t hide her smile.
As they continued down the carpet, Charles remained attentive to her every need. He adjusted her dress when the train got caught, whispered jokes to make her laugh when the cameras became too overwhelming, and even blocked a particularly aggressive photographer from getting too close.
“I’ve got you,” he said firmly, his hand steady on her lower back.
Yn leaned into his touch, her earlier nerves completely gone. With Charles by her side, she felt invincible.
When they reached the main backdrop for photos, the energy reached its peak. The photographers shouted instructions, fans screamed her name, and the lights flashed nonstop. But in the middle of it all, it was just Yn and Charles.
“Smile for the cameras, love,” Charles teased, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
“I am smiling,” she shot back, her lips curving into a grin.
“Good, because you’re stealing everyone’s hearts,” he said, his tone soft but teasing.
The photos from that moment would dominate the internet for weeks—Yn standing confidently in her stunning gown while Charles stood beside her, his gaze full of love and admiration.
When they finally finished the red carpet walk and made it inside, Yn let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
“You okay?” Charles asked, his hand finding hers again.
She nodded, turning to him with a grateful smile. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”
“Always,” he said simply, pressing a kiss to her temple.
The premiere went off without a hitch, with the audience giving a standing ovation at the end of the film. But for Charles, the highlight of the night wasn’t the movie or the applause—it was watching Yn bask in the recognition she deserved, knowing he’d been there to support her every step of the way.
As they left the theater hand in hand, Yn leaned her head against his shoulder, a content smile on her lips.
“Thank you for being here,” she said softly.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he replied, his voice full of sincerity.
And as the cameras flashed once more to capture their exit, it was clear to everyone watching—Yn and Charles weren’t just Hollywood’s newest power couple. They were each other’s home.
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mariasont · 5 days ago
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Hi I don't know if you're open to requests or not and this is also my first time asking for one but could I get slow dancing with Reid and it's like readers and Spencer's first time slow dancing together and they're all giggly and nervous and just adorable. If not that's totally fine I completely understand that you've got so much on your plate already love your writing!
The Corner Table - S.R
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a/n: thank you so so much!!! i kinda took this the shy!medialiason!reader x post!prison!reid hope you don't mind :)
masterlist
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pairings: shy!medialiason!reader x post!prison!reid
warnings: reader being a lil awk, spencer being flirty-ish
wc: 1.6k
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You weren't sure what was worse honestly: how the high heels dug into your feet or the fact that every step felt like a very badly placed gamble.
The shoes were a mistake, obviously, stiff as concrete, and it only took about thirty minutes of awkward mingling to confirm you'd made a bad call. Thirty minutes of wobbly steps, trying to act comfortable, and—oh, the best part—tripping over your own feet in front of Rossi.
He'd laughed, patted your shoulder, and thrown out a you're doing fine, kid, but that did little to comfort you.
And now you were here, sitting at a round table tucked into the far corner of the ballroom, nursing the last watery remnants of what you’d hoped was champagne but turned out to be sparkling cider. All around you, people were laughing, chatting and spinning elegantly across the polished dance floor. 
You’d been warned that this event was a big deal, but somehow, big deal hadn’t captured the sheer enormity of it. It felt like the kind of thing where people belonged because they just knew how to belong, and all it did was push your shoulders up to your ears.
You tugged at the hem of your dress, smoothing out wrinkles that weren’t there, willing yourself—begging yourself—not to look at him.
That was an impossible task. You weren’t fooling anyone.
Spencer Reid, standing a few tables away, deep in conversation with JJ. He'd ditched his tie somewhere between dinner and now, because apparently, he needed to make looking ridiculous levels of handsome seem effortless too. He looked relaxed, confident, absolutely everything you weren't.
Again ridiculous.
He didn’t even seem like the same man you’d met a few months ago. That Spencer had been intimidating in a textbook, straight-out-of-an-academic-journal way. Impossibly smart, sharp-edged in all the ways that made you stumble over your words like you didn’t even know the alphabet. 
But this Spencer? There was something softer about him now that you knew him better, something quieter you’d found yourself to enjoy, but it was no less overwhelming.
If anything, it was worse. You couldn’t stop looking at him... but you couldn’t hold his gaze, either. Tough shit.
You’d spoken to him only a handful of times tonight, and that had been more than enough to convince you that keeping your distance was the safest option. Embarrassing yourself in front of him once was bad enough (you’d spilled your drink on the lapel of his suit). To risk doing it again? You weren’t sure your pride could take the hit.
A slow song started to drift from the speakers, and you watched as couples started to move. You watched as they swept onto the dance floor, moving as if they’d rehearsed it like one of those flash dances at the mall. It was sweet, you supposed.
Sweet and incredibly uncomfortable, because the longer you sat there, the more out of place you felt.
Your eyes drifted—without permission, really—back to Spencer. JJ had stepped away, leaving him standing there alone, his hands in his pockets.
You looked down quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed you staring. 
"Do you always sit this far away from everyone?"
The voice startled you, mostly because it was coming from so much closer than you’d expected.
You jumped, your head snapping up so fast you almost knocked over your drink. Spencer was standing there. Right there. His hands still rested in his pockets, his posture relaxed, but his head was tilted slightly, and the way he was looking at you—curious, maybe a little amused—made your heart do a somersault straight into oncoming traffic.
At least that’s what you imagined.
"I—what?" you stammered.
He smiled—a soft, easy, lopsided thing that hit you like a sucker punch to the stomach, which immediately decided it hated you. And maybe him.
Your heart surely didn’t feel the same.
Anatomy, man.
“I was just wondering if this table was some sort of hiding spot,” he said, his hand sweeping toward the empty seats. “Because if it is, it’s a pretty good one.”
You laughed nervously, a sound that felt more awkward coming out of your mouth than it had in your head. “No. Not hiding. Just… taking everything in.”
He raised a brow, his expression making it clear he wasn’t buying it.
“Right,” he said, his voice dipping just slightly as the smile at the corner of his mouth grew. “And are you planning to take everything in from this exact spot for the rest of the night?”
You blinked at him. You weren’t sure if you were more embarrassed by how he’d seen straight through you or impressed by how easily he’d done it. 
“I… hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”
“Well,” he said, taking a step closer, closing the already small space between you, “if you’re open to suggestions, I have an idea.”
Your heart, already racing, shot straight from traffic into the stratosphere. “An idea?”
He nodded, extending a hand toward you. “Dance with me.”
The words hung in the air between you, and for a second, all you could do was stare at him.
“Me?” you managed, because what else could you say?
“No,” he said, deadpan. “The chair behind you.”
The laugh escaped you before you could stop it, louder than you’d meant, and for a second, you regretted it. But then his smile grew—still soft but more genuine, his eyes crinkling just slightly—and it made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t entirely out of your depth.
“Yes, you,” he said, his voice softer now. “Unless you’d rather keep sitting here, of course. No pressure.”
But it was pressure, somehow, because he meant it, and that made it infinitely more difficult to think straight. 
And because he was Spencer Reid, standing there with his hand out like it was the most normal thing in the world, waiting for you to decide.
You glanced at his hand, then at the dance floor, then back at him. “I’m... not really good at this kind of thing.”
“That’s okay,” he said simply. “I am.”
There was nothing arrogant about his words.
You hesitated, glancing around the room, but no one was paying attention to you. The only person who seemed to care at all was Spencer.
And, against all logic—or maybe because logic had completely abandoned you, probably likely—you reached for his hand.
It was warm and solid in a way that made you painfully aware of how clammy your own hand must have felt in comparison. For a split second, you half-expected him to pull away. But he didn't, instead, his fingers curled around yours like he'd done this a hundred times before.
Was this really happening? Your mind couldn't seem to catch up with the reality of him, of his hand in yours as he guided you to the dance floor.
Every step felt louder than it shoulder, the space between you and everyone growing smaller, and with it, the sinking feeling that you were completely exposed. Spencer didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he did, and just didn't mind.
“See?” he said softly, his voice barely rising above the music, yet somehow, you couldn’t miss it. His hand shifted slightly, his fingers pressing lightly against the small of your back. “Not so bad.”
Easy for him to say when he wasn't the one trying to remember how breathing worked—or how standing upright worked, for that matter.
Because all you could think about was how close he was. Close enough that the heat of him seeped through the thin fabric of your dress, close enough that every shift brough the clean scent of him, close enough that if you were feeling particularly risky, you had every ability to press your lips to his. Not that you would ever feel so risky.
“I feel like everyone’s watching,” you muttered, keeping your eyes firmly on the space between your shoes and his.
“They’re not,” he said, so surely that you almost believed him.
Almost.
You weren’t sure where to put your other hand, so you settled for his shoulder. That was a safe bet, right?
To your surprise, Spencer was... good at this. Like, really good. His movements were natural, steps easy and fluid, like he'd done this a hundred times before. Meanwhile, you felt clumsy, awkward, your limbs uncooperative in a way that made you hyper-aware close he was. It was a wonder you hadn't tripped over your own feet—or worse, his.
You felt a flicker of envy. Not for the way he moved, exactly, although that too. But just the way it felt like he wasn't even trying. Like it was just a part of him to make you feel like you were the most important person in the room.
"You're good at this," you blurted the thoughts in your head before you could think about stopping them. 
He chuckled softly. "I've had some practice."
You arched a brow. "You've had practice slow dancing?"
“Well, technically, yes,” he said, his lips twitching like he was barely holding back a grin. “It’s just physics—weight distribution, momentum, coordination. Very simple stuff.”
"Of course it's physics," you muttered, unable to stop the small laugh that escaped you. 
His smile widened, and for a fleeting moment, the nervous energy between you seemed to dissolve, melting away like it had never existed. But then he looked at you—not just at you, but into you—and it was right back.
You couldn't say how long the song had been playing or when the rest of the room seemed to blur into nothingness. All you could feel was his thumb brushing over your knuckles, so light it almost tickled and you felt like it might disappear if you acknowledged it aloud.
It wasn't the kind of touch that shouldn’t have meant anything. It was just a natural shift in movement, probably, something he might not even realized he was doing. But it crashed through you all the same, leaving your thoughts muddled and fuzzy.
The song ended far too soon.
Spencer's hand slipped from your waist, but he didn't let go of your other hand right away. His thumb brushed over the back of it—just once—before he released you. Just enough to make you feel semi-crazy.
"Thanks for the dance."
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words caught somewhere between your chest and your throat, leaving you nodding instead, helpless to do anything else.
His smile lingered like an afterthought before he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your hand still tingling where his touch had been.
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