#anything chocolate is a win for me
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Candy corn is gross, please change my mind on it.
#candy corn is gross#change my mind about it#my dad even agrees with me#anything chocolate is a win for me#especially
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Why must dieting be absolutely fucking miserable
#ed blogs please dni i am not associated with you#i’ve only been calorie counting for 2.5 days and i’m already SICK OF THIS#why is every food i like to eat like 200 calories per mouthful#i’m planning dinner because i’m SO hungry already and why is a dollop of mayonnaise like the same amount of calories#as a whole can of butter beans. what’s the reason for that#i’m NOT switching to light mayo. at that point i’d rather just cut mayo from my diet altogether#light mayo; reduced fat margarine; light cream cheese & reduced salt marmite all taste horrendous to me#light cheddar as well. i’m not eating it!!!#don’t get me started on having to cut out weed because i will just start crying#being sober turns me into such a hater but the last thing i need is anything that will increase my appetite#i’ll be fine in like a week once my body adapts to eating 2074 calories instead of like fucking… 3000 or whatever it was#most of which were junk. i’m very sad that i can’t eat more than one sweet or piece of chocolate per day but i’m just trying not to think#about it. and while i’m on the subject; since when are fibre one brownies so boring. i feel like they used to taste legitimately good#i’m going to take up running again. because then i will be able to eat more. but also i will be hungrier. i CANNOT win#they really need to invent a low calorie food that actually tastes good to me. every time i google it i’m like eurgh#celery and nuts. fuck off#if i didn’t have arthritis in my knee and a family history of heart problems i wouldn’t be doing this shit but alas! i probably should#i just want to take like 20kg of strain off my knees it should not be this hard. and yet!#personal
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It always seems a bit unbalanced on The Great Food Truck Race when there will be multiple teams who are cooking a wide variety of complex dishes with 10 different components and a bunch of prep work, and then there's that one team who like... exclusively serves plain crepes with some premade nutella on them, or plain waffles with just some whipped cream and cut up strawberries lol...
#AND then they'll be the winning team or whatever and its like... wow... imagine that... I wonder how its possible that they can get#more dishes out faster than the other teams... hrrmm.... lol#Not that they aren't still doing work like. obviously it's still hard and there's still a sales component and other stuff to be done#but It's just kind of unbalanced seeming when one group is serving like grilled shrimp sandwich with 3 homemade sauces and a#slaw and two sides and the other people are like... slicing fruit and drizzling a bottle of hersheys chocolate syrup on top of some thing#they just threw in a waffle maker for a few minutes#You see the footage of the teams cooking and everyone is like prepping a ton of different things and meat and vegetables and they have#boiling pots and pans and fryers going and tossing stuff in bowls and compiling these multi component dishes#and then That One Team is always just casually slicing bananas or doing some whipped cream in a bowl gbjhbhj#They usually dont even make their own caramel or chocolate sauces or anything. Nutella out of a jar babey!#So all you're really Making is like... whipped cream. and some sort of batter (waffle. crepe. etc)#If I got placed in a competition like that and I found out one of my opponents just sold waffles or pancake sticks or etc#like that I would just be like... okay.. I'm out then. bye. OR I would pivot and be like.. right I shall remove all complexity from my menu#whatsoever and just start selling plain balls of fried dough with powdered sugar or plain fries with nothing on them or something lol#update: OH my god.. one of these teams on a newer season is selling a 'bonus add on' where you can add#cinnamon sugar and caramel syrup (possibly not even home made by them???? just from a bottle) for $5 extra on your order#If I bought a $12 waffle from a food truck and they were like 'hey do you want to upgrade? for only $5 we'll drizzle a teaspoon#of caramel and sprinkle a little sugar and cinnamon on there!' I feel like I would cancel my order and walk away.#that is a $1 add on at MOST.. for a freaking DRIZZLE of caramel sauce LOL#and of course this team is in the top 3... squirrel.... come ON...#Which I know all these shows are fake and bad and whatever. I dont watch them seriously. I think I liked the first few seasons#but then anything past like season 4 (or whenever they started having established people who already ran food trucks on there#instead of taking a bunch of peope who had never run a food truck before and giving them one - which is a much more equal footing#premise to me) I have just been increasingly annoyed at and I really just have the show on for background noise#whilst doing chores or something and am not genuinely paying that much attention but... my god.. At least try to pretend its fair lol#WHICH I KNOWW... you can say 'well the other teams could do similar if they wanted.' or blah blah. tehcnically it's THEIR choice to#make stuff from scratch and not sell a bunch of packaged frozen chicken wings dropped into a fryer over a shitty 6min waffle or etc.#but... I will never respect a $5 for 1tbsp of caramel sauce type of situation.. even if they win.. you will always be losers in my heart#So many teams with real cooking skill & good concepts go home to the 'slap nutella on fried dough' people... how...
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*
#I love how when I’m in a relationship I don’t really care whether or not an SO gets me anything for Valentine’s Day#(my 2nd year at LSE the guy I was dating got me roses chocolates and a book on anti-semitism. which sounds insane yet is an oddly sweet/#earnest gesture trying to please a girl you mostly know from a banking and finance class who majors in history w/Russian Language and is#planning on writing her undergrad diss on the Dreyfus Affair)#but if any of my girl friends aren’t#then I’m ordering candy and gifts and pestering my mom to drop off something for my friend who still lives where I’m from#like I just woke up at 3 am this morning. realized I hadn’t gotten anything yet for my best friend from uni who now lives in NYC. and spent#$54 on chocolate (I know the shop it is worth it. turtles + soft centers + peanut butter cups for the win)#whoever takes that order and sees the note is definitely gonna think that’s my gf#oh well. taking a page from the Keith playbook#not the stones#me stuff
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atsumu who goes above and beyond to impress you, his crush and classmate of four years, in all definitions of “impress.”
honestly how the fuck isn't it obvious to you by now, he might as well be walking around with “i like y/n” tattooed on his forehead.
you mention you like guys that can cook once and holy fuck atsumu who still doesn't know how to use the microwave without quite literally burning the food, who's never chopped onions before without ending up with enough cuts to bandage his whole hand— that atsumu practices for weeks and stays up till 2 am to prepare for the lunch he'll make for himself, because osamu said said no and then because you bring homemade lunch to stay and eat in class with your friends— he'll casually just plop down on the seat next to you, his friends will then very obviously willingly talk loudly about his lunch and he'll just throw in a, “yeah, made it maself, 'm a solid chef, who do ya think taught 'samu?”
okay if that didn't get your attention, no worries, what are his friends there for?
if atsumu gets lucky in a day and catches you chatting away with your friends in the hallway, then he instructs his friends to walk past you, hover in the corner, just within your earshot— “'kay, so when we pass her by, ya gotta speak ma name real loud, loud enough so she can hear it, but don't annoy her”
and so for the time you stand there, trying to hold a conversation with your friends, all your mind can really focus on is the, “atsumu was so fucking good in practice today, if we're gonna win, then it'll be all him”
and then you hear the subject of the conversation speak, “nah, we're a team, every time we win, it's all thanks ta you guys,” because you also mentioned you like modest, humble guys.
god forbid the days you're absent in class.
atsumu who's sulking all day, doesn't know what the fuck is going on in classes, he's half in and half not in every conversation, even his passes are sloppy and weak. to the point osamu and suna are concerned, well, in their own ways, “are ya constipated or something, yer missin’ your spikes and yer passes as clumsy,” osamu says off-handedly.
“i heard y/n didn't come today, i think her friends said she's sick.” suna chips in, and atsumu shrinks in his spot like a grumpy cat.
“i already know that, wouldn't have come today if i knew she wasn't comin’.”
“you'd miss practice then.”
“don't care, don't talk to me, don't wanna do anything, what's the point.”
“down fucking bad,” suna muses, and atsumu glares at him.
atsumu's day is ruined and his disappointment is immeasurable. why did you get sick? how could you get sick? now he's worried and half of himself and his passes are shit and god, he wants to see you. he feels like he could die.
then when you finally show up the next day after what felt like eternity to atsumu, you find on your desk a pile of snacks with a little note— banana milk, everyone knows it's your favourite, the bar of chocolate they only sell down the convenience store near the school, the glazed donuts that you're always eating in class, and a lot of bubblegums that only one person in class knows you like— atsumu's handwriting is rushed and barely comprehensive but you know it by heart because he doesn't know you saw him slip the note you found in your locker this morning, and countless other mornings—
“i hope you smile because of this”
atsumu as a secret admirer is... not so secret because he's still unaware that you see him every morning, and let him giggle to himself as he slips the notes and the strips of bubblegums in your locker— you don't even like that flavor.
but he gave them, so you think they might just be your favourite.
then again, maybe atsumu doesn't want to be a secret admirer.
atsumu has a crush on you and you know that— he's very obvious. but he's also very dense and doesn't realise that everyone besides him can see you like him too. he doesn't know the only reason you bring homemade lunch is because he had started to eat lunch in class with his friends. you stand in the hallways with your friends pretending to talk so that when atsumu's walking past you, his friends will practically yell his name and you'll see him blushing shyly. he still doesn't know you come to his every match, cheering for him and scream with joy at every one of his scores.
atsumu makes it obvious he has a crush on you but is stupidly dense that you reciprocate all the same :'))))
© yuquinzel 2024 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
POSTING BECAUSE WHY TF NOT HUH HUHHHHHHHHH
@kyoghurts hi bbg
#❀˖° ─ hana writes.#ATSUMU IS ME ME IS ATSUMU#suddenly remember everything i did to impress my crush LMAO never again#if i had a dollar for everytime i wrote “atsumu”#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader#miya atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu miya#atsumu x reader#atsumu fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#atsumu x you#atsumu x y/n#atsumu drabble#haikyuu drabble
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City of Love
Pairing: The Salesman x fem!Reader
Summary: Months after winning the Squid Games, you receive an unwanted visit from the man who's been haunting you since the very beginning.
Word count: 5k
Warnings: smut (minors dni), drinking, sex in a public place, some murderous thoughts. Don't be fooled by the title, it's very much not a fluffy romantic fic lol.
*
The City of Love.
At least, that's what everyone calls it. It felt like the place to be after all the horrors you had endured in the past year – horrors you don't dare to say a word about to another soul. Friends and acquaintances have told you about how great it is, how beautiful, how magical. About how just a few days here will heal any woes in your heart.
Of course, it didn't work. Now you're just depressed in Paris.
It's not all bad. The Eiffel tower looks just as pretty as it does in pictures, especially late at night when it lights up and sparkles. The historic architecture and cobblestone streets are a nice break from the modern buildings you're used to from Seoul, so different it almost erases the memories sometimes. Never for too long. Just when you think you're slipping back into something resembling normalcy, they return in your nightmares in the shape of blood, pink jumpsuits and children’s games.
This afternoon, it takes the shape of a ghost – a tall, handsome man, whose face you’ve only ever seen in dreams and in the subway lines of Seoul.
All color drains from your face in a matter of seconds, all that pink winter flush.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
He smiles, like you're an old friend. It nearly throws you off your balance by how natural it looks, like he's not forcing it.
“Beautiful city, isn't it? Especially at this time of the year.”
This can't be happening. The whole reason you left South Korea was to put distance between yourself and those horrific games, and all the people associated with them. To just run into one right here, in a different continent, mere months after your victory; it makes you feel like you're about to pass out.
You stand up from your seat and walk right out of the patisserie, leaving your ridiculously overpriced hot chocolate nearly untouched on the table.
You knew, somehow, that he would follow you, but you still prayed he wouldn’t. That it had been your imagination, or the PTSD, or anything other than the Salesman himself crossing paths with you in Paris.
“I expected a warmer welcome,” a voice behind you says, making you pause your stroll down the street. Fortunately – or maybe unfortunately – you still haven’t completely lost track of what's real and what's not, and you can tell that voice is real, clear as day. He’s real and here and that terrifies you to your very core.
Turning around to face him, you hate how he still looks every bit as infuriatingly handsome as he did the first time you saw him.
“What are you doing here?” you repeat, your voice shaky and not nearly as incisive ad you’d like it to be.
“Visiting,” he replies. He turns to gaze at the scenery around you. In your hurry to get away from him, you didn't even realize you ended up at the Pont Neuf, the old bridge crossing the Seine River. Dusk settles around the two of you, the purple-ish color of the sky reflected on the river, almost too pretty for this situation. “Like I said, France is quite nice during the winter.”
You scoff. “You expect me to believe it's just a big coincidence that you and I ended up in the same place, five thousand miles away from home, at the same time?”
“Small world, isn't it?”
“I’m serious. I did everything you people wanted. I beat the games, I took the money and I kept my mouth shut. You were supposed to leave me the fuck alone.”
“Did what we wanted?” Something in his smile changes, shifts from warmth to something more sinister. “We never forced you to do anything. Remember that. You brought whatever happened on yourself.”
Cold air rushes over you, drawing a shiver out of you. It's not snowing yet, but it start might soon. It's hard to remember you were once excited for it.
He reaches out, ignoring the warnings in your eyes as he runs a finger over the smooth fabric of your scarf, then wraps it around your neck one more time. It’s almost a tender gesture, if he was someone else entirely. It should have you flinching, or slapping his hand away. Instead, it only makes you freeze in your spot.
“Yves Saint Laurent,” he notes. “I see you’ve been making good use of that money.”
It doesn't sound accusatory, but it feels like it anyway. Even after months, it still feels wrong to use the money, despite all the literal blood, sweat and tears it took to get it. Like you should be gathering it all in a pile and setting fire to it in protest. But what would that change? Why shouldn't you be allowed to use it to build a new life for yourself?
So you stayed in five star hotels. So you bought a few more pairs of Louboutin shoes than necessary. Therapy was out of the question, so this was the next best thing you could come up with for the time being. Best-case scenario, a therapist would think you're a nutcase. Worst case, they’d turn you in to the authorities for confessing to multiple murders you had committed at the Squid Games. You didn’t want to take the risk.
“I thought that was the idea,” you say. The Salesman’s hands are still on the fabric, merely touching it, but that doesn't stop your mind from picturing him gripping it, pulling on it until you suffocate in the garment you bought as some empty, mediocre sign of victory.
“It suits you.” He lets his hands fall with no damage to your throat or to your respiratory system. “Much better than those knock-offs you used to wear.”
It disturbs you that he even remembers that. As far as you know, you were only one of the hundreds of people who had played ddakji with him at the subway station. You remembered every second of it, replayed it in your mind over and over again, but there was nothing particularly memorable about you back then. You lost most rounds. You hoped against hope that he would ask you out, even after your cheek was red and stinging.
That was a different version of you. One that smiled more, even with all the hardships in your life. One that was too naive to realize she was selling her soul to the devil from that very first game of ddakji.
“Since the city brought us together,” the Salesman says, “I’d like to buy you a drink.”
It would be impossible to keep the surprise from your face if you’d tried. Those are words you would've loved to hear all those months ago, and now that he says them, you can barely draw enough air into your lungs to tell him to fuck off.
“Why? So you can kill me the second we’re off the street?”
He chuckles, like he finds your confusion amusing. “Why would I do that?”
“Isn't that why you're here?” Why else would it be, after all? Maybe it's part of their sick games; to give one person the illusion of victory, let them enjoy the money for a few months, then go after them and kill them. Or worse, pull them back in.
“If I wanted to kill you, I could do it anywhere.”
You suppose there's no arguing with that, but you're not sure if it makes you feel better. Good news: you're still breathing. Bad news: you're still breathing only until he allows you to.
“You still didn't tell me why you came after me, then,” you point out.
“Let's have a drink, and I’ll tell you.”
You must be insane for even considering this. The naive girl that had first seen him in the subway, coming home late at night from work, would be enthusiastically urging you to go. You’re supposed to know better than her.
“One drink,” you say. “Then you go home and never contact me again.”
His smile widens. “I know a nice place.”
*
He brings you to a piano bar just a few blocks away from the bridge. It's a fancy place, the kind that makes you feel underdressed even in your designer clothes. He blends right in – not only because of the sleek, tailored suit, but because of his demeanor, the natural elegance with which he carries himself.
Not for the first time, you wonder if he was born into wealth, or if he was ever like you. Someone who had to claw his way out of poverty. You can't picture it, but there's so much you don't know about him. It's what makes him so scary and confusing to you, but also so damn intriguing.
He orders for you before you have the chance to open your mouth. Dom Pérignon, two glasses. You raise your eyebrows once the waiter walks away.
“Are we celebrating something?”
“Your victory.”
The response makes your stomach drop. “I don't want to celebrate that.” Not with anyone, but especially not with him.
He gives a small shrug. “Just a special occasion, then.”
The dimmed, warm lights of the bar make the place feel so intimate, almost romantic in a sense. You don't know what to make of it, so you force yourself to look away from him, even when you can still feel his stare unflinching on you. Luckily, the waiter shows up just in time, pouring you both glasses of the bubbly drink and leaving the bottle in a bucket on the table.
You turn back to the Salesman, glaring at him. “I said one drink, not one bottle.”
“You never specified,” he replies, fake innocence in his eyes. “Gives us more time to catch up. Maybe even play a game, for old time’s sake.”
The mere mention of a game makes you want to run away, to lock yourself in the restroom and refuse to come out. It has to be intentional; he has to know what kinds of things would be running through your head, after everything you’d gone through. You take a long gulp of the champagne, nearly done with the entire glass in one go. You can't let him get to you like this. You do your best to look unbothered.
“Do you walk around with ddakji tiles everywhere?” you ask. “Just in case you find someone who wants to play?”
That earns a soft laugh out of him. “No, not ddakji.”
He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out what looks like a standard deck of cards.
“Have you ever played blackjack?”
You have, but hesitation is written all over your features. “What if I don't want to play?”
“Do you think I’d force you?” he asks, like you're a fool for even thinking so. “Like I said, you were never forced to do anything. It's your choice.” He sips his own champagne in a much classier, more contained way than you. Like he's happy to draw this out for hours, rather than wanting this night to be over as soon as possible. “But you’ve beaten much harder games before. This should be nothing for our big victor, right?”
There's a challenge in his voice, in his eyes. You should know better than to fall for it. So why is there a part of you that still feels like you have a point to prove? That feels like, with a little bit of luck and skill, you can finally beat this man at his own game?
“Fine.” You cross your arms over the table. “Let’s do this.”
Pleased with your answer, he shuffles the cards in his hands. You watch him, almost as mesmerized as you’d been watching him play ddakji at the subway station. It's so hard not to get lost in it, but you refuse to look away in shyness and hesitation again, keeping your eyes on him as you sip the rest of the champagne in your glass.
He refills it before placing four cards on the table: two facing upwards for you, one face-down and one face-up for himself, the dealer.
The rules are simple: your cards all together need to get as close to 21 without going over. Whichever one of you gets the closest wins the round. You have a nine and a four, totaling thirteen. The Salesman has a five, and a card that's invisible for you.
“Hit me,” you say, figuring your odds can't be too bad.
He places one more card to your pile: a seven. Twenty in total. Your heart speeds up inside your chest, already triumphant even before the end.
He reveals all his cards to you: the five you’ve already seen, a nine, and a three. Seventeen. Your smile widens, relief washing over you like you’d just escaped a near-death experience. You don't think beating a game, no matter the kind, will ever not feel like this again.
“Not bad,” he compliments. He reaches into another pocket for his wallet, drawing a hundred euro note and pushing it towards you on the table.
You just stare at it with an eyebrow raised, baffled and, frankly, a bit offended. With the tip of your index finger, you push the bill back to him.
“Do you really think I still need your money?”
“It's just symbolic,” he argues, but still tucks the money back into his wallet. “Of course, we can bet on other things too, if you’d prefer.”
“What kind of things?”
“Whatever you want. You won.”
“Whatever I want?” A grin stretches across your lips as you lean forward on the table. “Like a dare?”
He leans forward as well, like he wants to meet you in the middle. His eyes never leave yours. “Like a dare.”
You wonder just how far he’d take this game, if he would do something outrageous or serious just because you told him to. Maybe not. But even this is the kind of power that you never, ever imagined you would have over this man.
“Okay. Let me see your wallet.”
He hands it over without a fight. You rummage through all of it, ignoring all the cash and instead looking for something else, anything personal. But there's nothing. No family photos, no old receipts, not even a condom tucked inside one of the pockets. At last you find his ID license, the name Park Ha-Joon listed beside a smiling picture of him that looks so normal you almost want to laugh.
“It's not your real name, is it?”
He smiles. “Smart girl.”
“It was worth a shot.” You close the wallet and hand it back to him.
He shuffles the cards, hands them over again. Seven and six. You tap the cards in a sign for him to hit you with one more.
“Do you really want to know why I came to see you?”
Your eyes snap in his direction, not even looking at the new card that’s placed in front of you.
“I thought you’d be one of the first to die in a place like that.” He looks focused on the game as he talks, “When I found out you were the winner, I wanted to see it for myself.”
Your throat tightens, making it hard to draw in my next breath. You look around yourself, as if trying to make sure you're really here and not at that disturbing colorful scenario, or at the bunk beds in the dorm. Still the piano bar. Warm lights, soft chatter of conversation, piano notes ringing through the air. The mental image of that place still doesn't vanish from your mind.
“See what, exactly?” you ask, even though you know it would be better not to.
“If you truly earned it, or if you’re just one more piece of trash who got lucky, like all the others before you.”
Your hand must twitch, an involuntary movement you're not even aware of, and the Salesman places another card to your pile. You look down at it in horror, realizing all the cards together total to twenty-three.
“I didn't say hit me,” you protest.
“You tapped. You know that's the sign.” He looks over the cards again, as if just noticing the source of your distress instead of directly causing it. “Too bad.”
It's not fair, and you both know it, but you doubt pointing it out will make a difference. You bite your tongue around any words as well as the lump that's formed in your throat, tears trying to rush to the surface. Your gaze meets his and holds it.
“Are you going to slap me?”
He’s still for a moment, considering it. It's one thing to hit you in the face in a mostly-empty subway station late at night, and another entirely to do it in this sophisticated bar, with all these people around as witnesses. Still, you don't doubt that he would do it. You hold yourself back from flinching when his hand comes out, bracing yourself for the impact.
It never comes. Instead, his hands merely cup your cheeks, tilting your face to face him fully. He looks at you like he's studying you, his expression unreadable.
“Not now. I want something else,” he says. “A round of shots.”
His grip on your face is firm, but he runs the pad of his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone, like wiping away a teardrop that never fell. A gesture that can only be described as affectionate, and it's messing with your head way more than the slaps on the face did.
You nod.
He holds on for just a second too long before he lets you go. He orders the shots to the waiter – you pay no attention to the brand, or even the type of booze –, and you don't say another word until after they're placed in front of you on the table, small glasses so clean they gleam under the light.
“I crawled my way out of that hell,” you tell him. “You have no idea what I had to do to survive. You don't get to sit here and tell me I didn't fucking earn it.”
He looks more amused than anything. “To kill for necessity, anyone can do. It doesn't make you as special as you think it does.” He nods towards the shot on the table, reaching for his own. “Drink.”
You count one, two, three in your head before throwing the shot back, unable to suppress a grimace when the drink comes down your throat like liquid fire.
“Why do you wanna get me drunk so bad?”
He empties his shot glass as well. “Drinking together ensures none of us has an advantage.” He picks up the deck of cards again, before you ever have the chance to tell him you’ve had enough of this game. The words die down in your throat.
One more round. Your cards add up to seventeen.
It’s too risky to ask for one more card; anything higher than four would mean an instant loss. Only then you notice the sweat under your palms, the rush in your ears overpowering the piano music in the background. You force yourself to take a deep breath, to remember that your life is not on the line anymore and losing doesn't mean certain death, even though it feels like it.
He reveals his cards. Eighteen.
“Fuck.”
He seems pleased with himself, accessing you as you brace yourself for whatever he has in mind for you now.
“Come a little closer,” he orders.
You frown, but you find yourself obeying without much questioning, getting up from your chair to slide to the seat next to him on the booth.
He pours you both more Dom Pérignon, and this time he doesn't have to tell you to drink. You focus on the way the bubbles dance inside your mouth, if only to have something to distract yourself from his proximity, from the faint smell of his cologne or from the fact he still hasn't told you what he wants from you for losing this round
His hand lands on your thigh.
You jump in surprise, and his hand tightens its grip there, digging into your skin and keeping you in your seat. Your eyes widen and search for his, a question clear in them.
With his free hand, the Salesman pushes the cards in your direction. “You’ll be the dealer now,” he says, “and for each time you lose, I get to keep my hands on you for one more round.”
Say no, you tell yourself. Say something. A better, stronger woman would throw the champagne in the glass on his face and walk right out of this bar. Instead, you find yourself still as a statue, a sudden rush of warmth overflowing your senses – first, it rises to your face, coloring your cheeks red, then it travels lower to the pit of your stomach and down right into the space between your legs.
You can’t even tell if it’s the alcohol, spreading through your bloodstream and bringing a buzzing sensation to your head that’s not all unpleasant, or the fact you haven’t been touched like this in what feels like forever, or simply the man sitting next to you. How many times had you fantasized about this, until you realized that he was the catalyst of your ruin?
Maybe even a few times after that.
You take the deck of cards. He grins like he knew you would, like a master pleased with a dog following his command. You want to wipe that look off his face, but you can barely concentrate enough to properly shuffle the cards.
If you felt like you were fighting for your life before, it’s nothing compared to right now. The hand doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as twitch until the very final moments of the round, when you realize the two of you are tied. A fingertip slides up the fabric of your stockings until it stops at your knee, your skin erupting in goosebumps following the movement. Your heart beats so hard inside your chest you can barely hear the chatter of people around you as the bar fills in with people.
You lose the next round, and the next, and the one after that. You can’t even tell if you’re doing it on purpose anymore.
With each passing minute that you don’t push him away, that you allow him to test and cross your boundaries, he gets more daring, drawing shapes in the perimeter of your leg and curling into your inner thigh. Your chest rises with a breath that comes tumbling out, the sound of it way too close to a whimper for your liking.
You can tell he notices it instantly, observant and apparently fluent in your body language like he’s spent years of his life studying it. He takes the opportunity to let his hand wander under your skirt, to the spots it hadn’t covered yet.
That’s enough. You need to win this next round.
It’s like, for once, God listens to your prayers. Your cards add up to an even, perfect twenty-one to his nineteen.
He retrieves his hand as if on cue. You thought you would be gasping in relief, but what comes out instead is a pitiful, almost desperate don’t.
He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t as in stop?” he asks. “Or as in don’t stop?”
Your body answers the question for him before your mind can even process what happened, grabbing his hand and pulling it to the spot where it was. Your skin comes ablaze the second he touches you again, like his touch is charged with electricity.
“Did you know,” you can feel his breath so close to you when he speaks, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “that you were the first person who ever challenged me to play ddakji at the subway? Usually it’s the other way around. Nobody but you ever made the first move.”
It’s hard to concentrate on his words like this, with his body leaning into yours and his hand that still touches you under the table and– whoa, that is not your thigh. The solid press against your core makes your whole body twitch, but you don’t jerk away. You try to focus on the memory.
“I didn’t give a fuck about the game,” you reveal. “I just wanted you to notice me.”
“I know.” He draws small, precise circles over you. “Do you ever think about how I would’ve left you alone otherwise?”
Of course you do, more than you would ever admit. But having him confirm it hurts. It’s bad enough to know you’re the one who caused all the trauma you’ve been through since meeting him, that you could’ve just carried on with your life, shitty as it as, if only you weren’t a foolish girl with a crush on a stranger. But to be in his arms right now, your head falling over his shoulder and your lips releasing a tiny whimper; it just makes it all the more fucked up.
“Was it worth it?”
The smile on your lips is devoid of any humor. “Never.”
“Let me prove to you that it was.”
Just like that, everything stops. He scoots away from you in the booth and stands up, bringing all the heat with him aside from the faint lingering warmth on your face. He leaves a few bills over the table, enough for the entire tab, and walks away.
He doesn’t head towards the front door, instead making his way to the opposite direction. You watch him, confused, for a few moments before you trail after him, past the kitchen and the restrooms until you see the red glow of an exit sign.
A chilly breeze rushes over you the second you step outside, and you expect to see him walking into the dark narrow street. But he’s waiting for you, leaning against the brick wall behind him. He raises his eyebrows in that same condescending way he’s done all night, daring you to make the next move.
You don’t hesitate for even a second longer. You grab a fistful of his impeccable suit jacket and pull him closer, crashing your lips together.
From the start, it’s not sweet or gentle. He digs his fingers into your hips hard enough to bruise, wasting no time before he lifts you up into the air and pins you against the wall. You gasp into his mouth, parting your lips and practically begging his tongue inside. Your legs part almost in unison, allowing him to settle between them and effectively trap you, his larger frame blocking any exit.
As if you would dream to get away.
In one swift movement, he reaches between your legs and rips at the fabric of your stockings, the sound echoing through the empty street. You’re already making quick work of his belt; or trying to, frustrated by your lack of mobility from his position. He doesn’t seem willing to let you go, so he does it himself instead, pulling his pants down just enough to free himself from the confines of his underwear.
You’ve soaked through your panties in whatever time it took to play all those rounds of blackjack. It felt like it was drawn-out for hours, but you know it couldn’t have been more than just a few minutes. He moans when he feels it, before he even pushes into you – a heavenly, otherworldly sound, one you want to hear again and again. You push your hips towards him, feeling yourself throb when he rubs his length over you, burning hot where skin meets even though everything around you is cold. He rewards you with another sound that you drink right in as you deepen the kiss, happy to never have your lips separate from each other ever again.
He pushes the fabric of your panties to the side and thrusts into you without a warning, drawing a strangled, sharp gasp from you. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to the invasion, setting up a punishing pace that pushes you against the wall hard with every thrust. You claw at his back, losing the ability to form coherent thoughts, helpless to stop it as he all but consumes you like this is his last chance to.
“Ah– fuck,” you have to break away from his lips to attempt to draw in some air, your breaths and sounds interrupted by the rhythmic, vicious snaps of his hips into yours. He takes the opportunity to tilt his head and follow the line of your jaw with his lips, to mouth kisses and graze his teeth over your throat.
Hands find their way under pieces of clothing, trying to cling to as much bare skin as they can. He does most of the work, still holding you up in the air with the help of the wall (you curl your toes just to test the waters, the ones on the foot closest to the ground, and they barely touch the pavement), bouncing you on his cock however he sees fit, and it’s embarrassing how close you are already just from this.
“Fuck, baby, that’s so good.”
It’s intoxicating how vocal he is, all the grunts and moans he breathes into your neck, how it rips more sounds out of you than you would usually make. The street is completely silent save for the two of you, not another soul in sight. You could kill him right here and he would never see it coming. Gut him with the knife tucked away in your purse, leave him on the pavement gasping for his last breath. Who would catch you? You have enough money to run to yet another country, to give yourself a new identity and reinvent yourself as many times as you want.
The purse is on the floor where you’d carelessly let it fall, out of reach. Still you run your hands down over his bottom, feeling for any guns or weapons he may have tucked into the back of his waistband, or hidden in his pockets. There’s nothing, but you don’t have a lot of time to be disappointed about it before you’re coming with a high-pitched, broken shout, like your orgasm has taken you by surprise. He holds you up, squeezing you against the wall for support, the only thing stopping you from falling straight to the floor.
The Salesman follows right after, a stream of goods and fucks and your name falling from his lips as he spills deep into you. You wish you had it in you to be offended, to tell him off for it. But all you can think about is how much you wish you knew his name so you could shout it, gasp it, whisper it, for as long as he keeps holding you this tight.
#salesman x reader#the salesman x reader#the recruiter x reader#gong yoo x reader#squid game x reader#the salesman x you#my fics
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⟡ ── after an argument
hyung line x fem. reader | what they do to apologise after an argument
genre: fluff, est. relationship | wc. 0.9k ♡ a/n: this is my first writing ever so i'm not sure it's good but support is appreciated!! <3
lee heeseung
"y/n, i'm sorry."
even though it had been your boyfriend's apology you had so desperately wanted, you found yourself tilting your position ever so slightly away from him. you were still not ready to forgive him completely, not after the argument you two had yesterday. it was going to take much more than a simple sorry to win back your heart. the words he had said had been hurtful, and the day had been filled with tension that had only just eased a bit by heeseung's apology. — more under cut!
"y/n, please, i'm sorry for what i said yesterday. i know it was wrong of me. i don't know what i was thinking, saying stuff like that." heeseung tried again, resting his warm hand on your shoulder.
it was the tone of his voice that made you soften. you could tell he truly felt bad for what had happened. when heeseung noticed that you weren't shrugging his hand off, he immediately engulfed you in a hug, giving you soft pecks on your cheek.
"i'm so sorry, baby." he mumbled against the fabric of your hoodie, his chest pressed against your back and his faced buried behind in the crook of your neck. you leaned into his soft touch, smiling despite yourself and he murmured sweet nothings in your ear.
park jongseong
you were startled by the warmth of jay's presence as he stood close behind you, lifting your hair up gently before putting a necklace around your neck without a word.
"jay? what are you doing?" you asked, placing a hand on the necklace he had just clasped on, trying to get a look at it.
"it's a gift for you," jay said quietly, his touch lingering for a few seconds even after he was done with the necklace as if he was scared to let go. "i felt so bad for yelling at you last night. i'm so sorry love, i shouldn't have done that."
you had already forgiven jay for what he had said last night, though you hadn’t told him directly. it had mostly been your fault but you had still gotten mad at your boyfriend.
you saw a glimpse of a flash of gold from the reflection of the window, and you turned to face jay. "you didn't have to do that. it was my fault, bringing it up after such a long time when you were tired."
jay bent down to your height, giving you a warm smile before kissing you on the forehead, his hands around your waist.
"anything for my princess."
sim jaeyun
even though you had your back turned to your boyfriend jake, still annoyed about the petty little argument you two had had that morning, jake was clinging onto you more than ever. he had his arms around you, rambling random things and apologies over and over again. the topics varied, from funny anecdotes and random thoughts and he had said at least a million apologies.
“jake, i’m still mad. like really, really mad. and it doesn’t matter how many puppy eyes you give me because it’s not going to work.”
jake snuggled up even closer to you, and you tried to push him away, but he persisted. “i’m sorry, y/n, i’m very, very sorry.”
you smiled despite yourself, turning your head away so he wouldn’t be able to see the way the corners of your lips were curling up without permission. “i’m still angry.”
you could practically imagine jake’s pout and the kind of expression he was making.
“come on y/n, i’m sorry i ate your chocolate ice cream, i’ll buy you a new one today, i promise. i’ll buy you two.”
when he got no response from you, he hugged you a little bit tighter before tickling you, making you laugh.
"okay," you gasped between laughs, trying to get away from jake. "okay, but you better buy me that ice cream."
park sunghoon
when you arrived home, still upset about the argument you had had with your boyfriend sunghoon last night, you found a small white box waiting for you on your desk. it was carefully wrapped, laced ribbons and all. curious to see what it was, you put down your bag and unravelled the ribbon and gently opened the box lid to find rows of chocolate wrapped in pretty silver wrappers and a little note written in sunghoon’s handwriting.
an apology note.
perhaps this was sunghoon's way of saying to sorry to you, your shy yet caring boyfriend. it was rather sweet, and you felt your anger melt away.
you immediately dialled his number on your phone, and it barely rang before he picked up. perhaps he had been waiting for your call, and that made you smile.
“uhm, i got the chocolate you left for me,” you said, reading the note he had written. “thank you, and i’m sorry for getting mad at you yesterday, i know you have a lot going on right now.”
hearing sunghoon’s soft voice at the end of the line was comforting. “you shouldn’t apologise, i yelled at you for no reason. enjoy the chocolates, i’ll be back soon. um, i love you.”
you smiled as you bit into the chocolate. "love you too. give me lots of kisses when you come back. i miss you.”
#enhypen#enha#enhypen fanfic#enhypen au#enhypen smau#enhypen fluff#enhypen fic#enhypen soft hours#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#heeseung fanfic#heeseung fluff#heeseung x reader#jay fanfic#jay fluff#jay x reader#jake fanfic#jake fluff#jake x reader#sunghoon fanfic#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon x reader#hyung line#enhypen social media au#enha x reader#enha au#enha soft houra#enha fluff
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NEVER TOO BUSY FOR YOU –
↳ oscar piastri + gf!reader
⌗ :: masterlist
⌗ :: a/n: i like to think im the sweetest person alive so this is written for my girl nadsies while she isnt having the greatest day ever. just a short lil fic bc im working on the smau pt2 and some other ones ;)
you dont like bothering oscar when he's at work. its a weird thing you have, one that oscar's tried getting out of your head on more than one occasion. does it stick? no.
the cramps you had been feeling for the entire day had made it almost impossible to move, so you weren't exactly able to reach your phone to tell oscar either.
that is a fact you use in a later argument. which by the way doesn't work.
so when the door to your apartment swings open and you hear your boyfriend's voice, you nearly flat out start crying. its so nice to hear a comforting sound.
"sweetheart?" oscar calls out for a second time when you don't reply, even talking feels like too much right now. you hear some shuffling around and then the soft footsteps as he walks down the hallway.
"hey, baby," he murmurs when he enters the room, coming to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. his hand comes to rest on your back rubbing slowly through the duvet. "how are you feeling?"
a noncommittal grunt escapes you and you wince in pain as another wave of cramps hit you like a train. fuck periods actually.
oscar sensing your situation quickly, he gets up and places a quick but soft kiss to your forehead before walking back out to the kitchen promising to be back soon. you stay awake for a little while but eventually the sounds of him moving around, and the soft clinking of dishes quickly puts you to sleep.
it was a comfort knowing someone else was home with you.
some time later you feel a dip in the bed beside you, two arms wrap around your waist and pull you into their warmth.
"hey you," you whisper.
"hey you," he whispers back his hand drawing circles on your skin. "are you feeling better after that nap?"
"sort of," you sigh. "mainly im-"
"hungry?" oscar guesses, you can hear the smile in his voice and you slowly sit up, cautiously testing different positions before finding one that doesn't make you feel like you've been shot.
you look over at oscar who has turned away bringing a tray of snacks over from the bedside table. it has all your favourite snacks, chocolates, your phone and a warm cup of tea.
"i called mum, while you were asleep earlier," he said almost nervously. "and asked her what type of tea to use because i was worried and wanted to help and she said to use-"
you shut him up by placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth "its perfect thank you osc," you settle back against the pillows - and him, okay mostly him. his arms are wrapped around you as you soak in the quiet afternoon, the soft sound of the show you had playing on your computer earlier the only noise in the room.
"why didn't you call me?" his voice rumbles through you.
"i didn't want to bother you while you were at work," you look down to the cup of tea in your hands and realise now that you probably won't be winning this conversation. there is no one who cared more about you than the man currently wrapped around you. he would drop anything in a second for you.
hence why you didn't call him. he cant be distracted from work. its so important to you.
but he won't take that as an answer.
"you know i always have time for you, sweetheart, i'm never too busy for you. you're my number one priority. always."
the cramps didn't seem so bad after that.
2025 © thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works
– comments, likes and reblogs appreciated !
#⌞ my works .ᐟ ⌝#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri blurb#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1 imagine#op81 x reader#op81 fic#f1 grid x reader#op81#op81 fluff#op81 imagine#oscar piastri au#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#formula one x reader#f1 fluff#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 x you
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— CASUAL.
SUMMARY. you’re mad at tyler after an argument, he decides to win you over by bringing in your favorite food and taking you to a rodeo, when you think that his charm was working, an EF-4 tornado strikes.
WARNINGS. angst (happy ending though), tornado attack.
WORD COUNT. 1.2k
you were lying down in your bed, attempting to go to sleep or at least take a nap given that it was 8:21 p.m. you found yourself staring at the ceiling, listening to the music and people singing outside.
you can’t help but toss and turn around as you overthink about the argument you had with tyler. tyler was your best friend, childhood neighbor, situationship, you don’t even know at this point. and although tyler and you were always risk takers, some risks are too hard for you to handle, but boone and tyler are a dangerous duo.
when you graduated high school you went straight to college and studied meteorology, you didn’t waste another second of your life and did everything that it took to where you are now. but, tyler and you were separated for college, you were halfway across the country while he stayed in his hometown. but when you graduated college, you went back home.
the both of you caught up on everything each other missed, and next thing you know, you ended up joining tyler’s storm-chasing team, the thing is, by something that happened to you in the past, you always rode alongside Dexter and Dani, there were moments where you rode with tyler, but you were always harnassed up even if you weren’t inside the tornado yet.
your train of thoughts were so rudely interrupted by the knock at your door. you sit up and take a breath before walking over to the door. before opening it, you were thinking to yourself that maybe it was going to be your mother, or your sister, not tyler owens. he sees the expression on your face and smiles, attempting to cheer you up.
“hey…” your nose flares, he notices and chuckles. “i brought your favorite… Tina Mae’s chocolate pie…” he hands it over to you and you take it. “maybe if you let me in we can sha—“ his words were cut off by the door slamming on his face. his eyebrows raised and he froze.
you put the pie on the desk next to your bed and open the bag, and it is indeed your favorite chocolate pie. you smile to yourself and head back to the door, as expected, tyler was still there.
“if you think you’re always gonna take me back with my favorite food, you’re wrong.” i inhale sharply and tap on the door.
“well, i wanted to do it another way if you’d let me show you…” you raise your eyebrows and cringe. “no—no, not like that, well…” he cocks an eyebrow and glances at you, you were about to close the door again but he stops it. “no, hey, i’m serious. get changed i want to take you somewhere.” he smiles. you hum and close the door gently so you can get changed.
“you can’t be serious. do you want me to forgive you or hate you more, tyler owens?” you say as you take your seats in the rodeo’s benches.
“bit of both.” he smiles, and you chuckle whilst shaking your head. “look, y/n, i’m sorry.”
“you’re apologizing here? rea—“ tyler touches your knee softly, cutting you off.
“i’m sorry, sorry for what i said earlier. i shouldn’t have said those things. you’ve been through so many things i can’t even begin to imagine, and it wasn’t my place to say anything about that. you know i would never do anything to hurt you, i am sorry.” the soft glow in his eye made you feel the truth he was saying. you nod and smile.
“and why would you ever think i wouldn’t forgive you?” tyler smiles at your words and so do you. “i think i should be the one apologizing, i tried to stop you from doing something you gave years of experience, and that was out of place and overprotective and unnecessary.”
“no, no, it’s okay. you of all people know about these stupid risks i take, i was a bull rider for God’s sake! I know you hated that.” you laugh.
“yeah, i think i hated that more than storm chasing.” he chuckles and glances at you, there was a small silence until you broke it. “i just… i don’t want to lose you, ty.”
“you’re never going to lose me.” you look over at him, your eyes stinging as you feel some tears coming. he wraps an arm around you and holds you. “you won’t.” he reassures you nod and after a while, let go.
“you and that stupid face…” you look away, trying to hide a smile.
“wait what?”
“every time i was cleaning blood off of you, whenever you got knocked off your bull, you would always make that stupid face, or like look at me some way like you were trying to get me to kiss you.” he raises an eyebrow and you look at him again.
“oh, you mean my charm? i already come with it, it’s not something i do on command.” you roll your eyes and click your tongue.
“well, “your charm” has never worked on me. never has, never will.” the two of you share a soft smile, all while maintaining that potent eye contact.
you don’t know if it was the tension, but you had sudden goosebumps and started getting chilly. although your hair was in a ponytail, your bangs were getting in the way, you never took your eyes off of tyler’s but you could see his hair starting to get messy too.
“well, i don’t know about you but, i think it’s working pretty well now.” he moves the strands of hair out of your face and tucks it gently behind your ear before cupping your cheeks.
“about time.” you manage to let out seconds before his lips are on yours. your heart was racing the whole time, but you felt it could come out of your chest any second now.
the kiss started slow and gentle, but the moment you smiled into it, tyler deepened the kiss, you placed your hand behind his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, which made you notice how much his hair was moving around, as much as it pained you doing it, you pulled away and saw people walking away from the stands. you look around and pick up a leaf from the ground.
tyler notices and the two of you exchange a look. you both stand up and head for shelter, you feel the winds get stronger and that’s when you start to run, helping some people who have tripped along the way, but not wasting more than a second.
tyler and you managed to find a motel and in that motel an empty pool, where you sought shelter until the tornado passed over you. at that moment tyler had to help a man that had twisted his ankle, and a vending machine was blocking his way, due to the man panicking, he was gone.
tyler hid with you and another family of a mother and her daughter. the grip you had on tyler and that he had on you was like no other. you felt tyler plant kisses on your head to calm you down as you felt the tornado right above you, you held onto some pipes and his arms tightly, fearing for your life at that very moment.
when the tornado passed, you didn’t even want to let go of tyler, you hugged him and stayed with his arm wrapped around you the whole night, even when you shared your bed with him.
❛i know, “baby, no attachment.” but we’re… ❜
#tyler owens#glen powell#twisters#tyler owens x reader#glen powell x reader#tyler owens fanfiction#glen powell fanfic#jake hangman seresin#hangman x reader
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SATURN ── LHS
PREC𝓲S 。。 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾
이희승 /⠀ female reader ── fluff + non idol au 。。 ⠀ happy birthday to the loml 🎀 my seungie i love you and i adore you forever. . . . more
THAT TIME WHEN he stayed up late with you when you were sick
it was early october and the weather was starting to get cold. you shivered under your blanket, your nose running and your hair a mess, a state you didn’t want heeseung seeing you in. instead of pushing you away, he came over, holding medicines and all your favorite snacks.
“i know you need me princess..” he sat beside you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you.
“what if you get sick to?” you sniffled, attempting inhaling his scent through your clogged nose.
“it’s okay.. as long as i’m with you, that’s all that matters to me.”
it was during those moments, when he looked after you even when you felt your worst, that you realized heeseung’s love was all pure. heeseung didn’t just show up on your good days, but the days you felt vulnerable, and unwell.
THAT TIME WHEN he surprised you with a bunch of hand written love letters
it was your first valentine’s day with heeseung, you were super unsure of what to get him. all those store bought gifts didn’t have as much love as a homemade gift. you made him your infamous homemade chocolate chip cookies and crocheted him a new sweater.
as you finished taking the cookies out of the oven, you heard a slight knock at your front door. you hurried over and opened the door, seeing a basket of letters resting perfectly on the porch.
“100 reasons why i love you..” you read the basket, smiling softly as you reached to grab it.
you went back inside, reading each letter individually. tears flew through your eyes as you read the letters. heeseung’s love was stronger than anything, he always make it clear.
THAT TIME WHEN you had your first fight
a small argument broke out between you and heeseung, it wasn’t anything big, but something that could’ve easily been forgotten. you stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, both of you too stubborn to back down.
“i don’t even know why it matters this much to you.” you muttered under your breath, a sharp edge to your voice. it stung more than intended.
heeseung’s face faltered for a second, hurt in his eyes, but instead of responding out of anger, he paused. from past relationships, you expected him to walk out and not say anything, but he did the opposite.
“i don’t wanna fight with you, i never do. come here and let’s make this right.” he holds his arms out for you, without even thinking you ran into his arms. heeseung wasn’t focused on winning this fight, he just wanted to make things right between the two of you. his touch was comfort, something you needed in that very moment.
THAT TIME WHEN he came to your rescue when you least expected it
it was a stormy afternoon and you had forgotten your umbrella on the kitchen counter. one moment it was sunny, the next it was pouring ran. your clothing was soaked and your hair was wet, you shivered as you continued to walk.
suddenly a car pulls up beside you, the window rolling down. “get in, princess.” he calls out, opening the passenger door for you. you quickly walk over to his car, closing the door behind you.
“you came…” you looked at him, almost as if he was some sort of hero.
“of course i came. you weren’t answering your phone, i figured something wasn’t right.” heeseung smiled, grabbing one of his hoodies from the backseat. “put this one..i’ll drive you home okay?”
THAT TIME WHEN he comforted you when you were nervous
it was your first big job interview, you sat in your car anxious and scared. your palms were sweaty, your breathing was faster than usual. you spent weeks preparing, even having a little bit of heeseung’s help.
your phone buzzed, signaling a call. it was heeseung, without even thinking you answered it. “hello?” you answered, hearing heeseung’s voice suddenly calmed you down.
“hey princess.. don’t stress it okay? you’re gonna do great and they’d be extremely lucky to have someone like you on their team. i love you okay?”
“i love you too, thank you for helping me prepare for this day.” you smiled. you were lucky, heeseung knew how much this job meant to you, and he didn’t want you to stress yourself out about it. you went into the job interview and handled it perfectly, just like heeseung had prayed for.
💌 : happy birthday to my heeseung :( ugh he makes me so proud i love him so much. i adore him so badly. lets meet soon my beloved (i hope) >_<
#🎐 ── 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙’𝑠 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷#enhypen heeseung#heeseung#lee heeseung x female reader#lee heeseung one shot#lee heeseung x you#lee heeseung x y/n#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung fic#heeseung lee#enhypen x fem reader#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enhypen oneshot#enhypen fanfic#heeseung x female reader#heeseung x yn#heeseung x you#heeseung x reader#heeseung enhypen#enha#enha x female reader#enha x y/n#enha x you#enha x reader#lee heeseung fluff#enhypen fluff
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Special customer
Redhood
Special customer Redhood who gains the title by beating up some shady guys attempting to break into your bakery and apartment above it, and after the job was done, you begged him to stay around until you got a new security system installed. But even with it installed, he seems to be in the area. One night, you offered him a coffee, and now every night on patrol, he comes for his coffee.
Special customer Redhood, got a pretty sweet drink, not something a vigilante would drink. It was a black coffee with 5 pumps of caramel and a dash of cinnamon sugar. Something about the unlikely order was cute in a way.
Special customer Redhood, doesn't know that you have an alarm set, so you can wake up late enough to catch him and give him his coffee. One day he catches you, though. You come downstairs to check to see if he was there yet, and he sees you in pajamas, your hair up so you can sleep comfortably,
"Wait, were you sleeping?" He looks you up and down.
"Nice pajamas"
Only then does he look up the hours of the bakery, seeing that it closes at 10 p.m., whereas he's coming in between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m. That was when he first realized how considerate you were.
Special customer Redhood finally asks you about your day after two weeks of him coming in for a cup of coffee and a weirdly comfortable silence while he drinks and unwinds from his long patrol.
"How was your day... You look exhausted." He took a long pause, realizing he didn't know your name, but to his surprise, you laughed, and after that one small gesture, he knew he wanted to hear it again.
You and him talked for a few hours until his headset pinged that there was something suspicious going on in the area he was supposed to be patrolling, but here he was flirting with a baker.
He never got your name.
Special customer Redhood, gets the same thing every time, so eventually you give his order a special name. His own secret menu item. special customer, Redhood, who asks
"Did you name this drink after me?" When you say
"One red cup coming up." The name was Corny, and it slipped up before you could stop yourself, and now you cringed as you could hear the smirk in his heavily distorted voice. His question was immediately met with denial.
Special customer Redhood enjoyed talking with you and learning about you. He also liked how you weren't pushy, not asking anything that could put his identity at risk. Here's a list of things he told you.
He liked classic literature.
He had never tried matcha before you made him try your new matcha white chocolate cookies.
He loved animals and always wanted a big dog.
His favorite color was green, which was surprising considering his choice of name.
He never went to college.
New customer Jason Todd, who made you raise an eyebrow when he ordered a "red cup," had a barely noticeable smirk like he was thinking of an inside joke. Your eyebrow raised a bit more when a younger-looking guy asked
"Jason, why this bakery? It's not even a real coffee shop; they just happen to sell three types of coffee and a special lemonade. And its super put of the way."
His words were met with a flick to the back of his head by Jason.
"Because I like it here."
New-ish customer Jason, who came in mornings ordering the same thing every couple of days every so often, had a person or two with him. But while Jason wasn't consistent, but you like him any.
Special customer Redhood, who had been planning on asking you out as Jason for months. It was now winter, and the snow on the ground made him think of you. He knew winter was your favorite season, and it was the first snow of the season today. He knew it had to be today.
Innocent bystanders Dick, Damian, and Tim watched their brother go mad over a baker. A mix of happiness and impending doom lingered amongst the group they had started taking bets on when he would finally ask her out a while ago. And so far, Alfred is the closest to winning.
Regular customer Jason Todd, who had run into the bakery with flowers in hand right before closing, Slightly out of breath, he asked
"Will you go out to dinner with me? Saturday night at 8 p.m.?"
"Sure." You smile happily, accepting his offer and you watch as his eyes light up and he hands you the bouquet of flowers.
Boyfriend Jason Todd, who is surprised when you, after a year of dating, reveal that you've been suspicious since day one, All because of a stupid drink with a corny name.
Boyfriend Jason Todd, who can't help but tease you,.
"So it was named after me?"
Boyfriend and soon-to-be fiancée Jason Todd, who proposes to you on the roof of your apartment and bakery the whole roof was decked out with a vine covered arch and fairy lights.
"So, will you marry me?"
He gets on one knee, opening a gorgeous engagement ring with your favorite precious stone inside. It was your dream ring, and he was your dream guy, and of course you said yes.
Fiancée Jason Todd, who pulls you into a passionate kiss when he hears the words leave your lips, couldn't be more excited to spend the rest of his life with you.
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hi! i loved Drive Thru Test and i was wondering if you'd actually write charles calling y/n his girlfriend and then her not wearing the ring. i think that would just be really funny and he'd be so cute whining. im not trying to rush you and I'd be happy to wait for the fic!
Hi! Yes, it would be very funny because i don’t think Charles realizes that he proposed to a Drama Queen. I don’t know if it turned out like you wanted it to but I really hope you like it!
Fiancé Girlfriend
Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: After a month of being engaged, Charles isn’t used to calling Y/N his fiancé, and accidentally calls her his girlfriend AGAIN. Y/N being true to her words, decides to stop wearing her ring.
Warning: the usual spelling and grammatical errors, VERY bad photoshop.
A/N: I am on my period and it SUCKS, i haven’t been able to get much sleep sadly and i really want chocolate and there’s no chocolate in my house 😩 also, if I were to ever give Charles and Y/N a dog in my fanfics, it will not be Leo since he is a Saint Mleux as well, not just a Leclerc
(His face when he realized he messed up)
Y/N was in the paddock at the Monaco Grand Prix, she had to be there for Charles’s home race. She was happy she did, Charles got P1, Max P2, and Lando P3. Charles kissed her when he got out of the car, she saw his podium ceremony, literally the best GP she’s been to, nothing could mess up her mood. She was in the hospitality snacking on whatever they were offering her while watching the post race interview on the TV and something happened.
“So Charles, we saw you kissing Y/N after your big Home Race win, how long have you guys been together?” The interviewer asked.
“Yes, my girlfriend and I have been together for 5 years.” Charles said and his eyes widened. Max and Lando were also looking at him like ‘ooh, she’s gonna kill you’ “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant..” Charles started but the interviewer ignored him and started asking Max and Lando questions.
Y/N was in shock, how dare Charles call we his girlfriend on live television. So Y/N did what any normal person would do, she took off her ring and placed it securely in the inside pocket of her purse.
Charles in the other hand was panicking after the interview.
“Okay, try not to panic.” Lando said.
“That ship has sailed, Lando. I’m panicking, I’m fucking panicking!” Charles was paving around the room.
“There’s probably a good chance she didn’t see the post race interview.” Lando said.
“And if she did? I already called her my girlfriend once, you know what she said she would do if I do it again? Take off her ring.” Charles said.
“Maybe she was bluffing, she wouldn’t actually go through with that, she loves you too much. I have never seen a couple love each other so much.” Max said and Charles smiled.
“You’re right, Max, she loves me, she’d never take off the ring.” Charles said. He left the room to go to the hospitality and saw Y/N eating fries. “Mon ange! Did you see the interview?”
“Muñeco! Yes I did.” Y/N said.
“I am so sorry, I really am.” Charles takes Y/N’s hand in his and noticed something was missing. “Mon ange, where’s your ring?”
“What ring, muñeco?” Y/N asked, feigning innocence.
“Your ring, your engagement ring, where is it?” Charles asked.
“Charles, I don’t know what you are talking about, why would I have a ring? It’s not like I’m your fiancé or anything, I’m just your girlfriend.” Y/N said and Charles pouted.
“I’m sorry! I swear I am so very sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Charles begged for forgiveness.
“Let’s go home, muñeco, can we order in?” Y/N asked.
“Yeah sure, anything you want, mon coeur.” Charles said. They were walked to the car and as soon as they got in, Charles expected Y/N to put her ring back on since they are not ‘in public’ anymore but she didn’t, the ring was still off. “So mon ange, have you been thinking about when would you want the wedding?”
“Wedding? What wedding? We’re not even engaged, Charles.” Y/N said. You know the saying ‘if they go low, I go lower’? Y/N is going as low as the depths of hell for a slip of the tongue.
“Mon ange, is not funny anymore.” Charles whined.
“Did you order food?” Y/N asked.
“Yes I did, we’re picking it up.” Charles said.
“Cool.” Y/N said.
The drive to the restaurant and back home was silent.
“Okay, we’re back home now.” Charles said as they entered the apartment.
“Yes muñeco, Im aware.” Y/N said but she still didn’t put her ring back on.
“Mon ange please wear your ring.” Charles begged, wrapping his arms around her waist, her back to his chest. “Please, I promise to announce our engagement on Instagram.” Charles kisses her neck. “Please just wear the ring, I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, you are the best fiancé a man could ever have.” Charles whispered in her ear as he places little neck kisses.
Y/N turned around and saw Charles pouring with teary eyes and she felt her heart melt.
“Aw muñeco, okay, I’ll wear my ring. But promise the whole world will know we are engaged. I love that you want your friends and family to know first, but it hurts me when you still call me your girlfriend.” Y/N said and Charles kisses her forehead.
“I know, mon ange. We’re going to let the whole world know that you’re my fiancé.” Charles kissed her passionately.
Liked by pierregasly and 830,659 others
charles_leclerc after years of dating, I proposed to the love of my life on our 5th anniversary. I love her so much, I am thankful for having her in my life. We have been engaged for a month and I am so happy that I get to call her my fiancé, the future Mrs. Leclerc, I love you 😘.
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landonorris happy for you mate, so glad she didn’t kill you
charles_leclerc you and be both 😳
maxverstappen1 happy for you mate!
carlossainz55 congratulations, cabrón! I expect invite to the wedding
yourusername aww, muñeco, I love you too, I can’t wait to be Mrs. Leclerc 🥹
francisca.cgomes let me be a bridesmaid!
yourusername you’re maid of honor!
user45 no wonder Charles looked nervous after his pst race interview
yourusername posted a story
charles_leclerc replied
Can’t wait to be your husband 😘
The End
Hope y’all liked it! It was a little short but fun to write!
#hispanic reader#latina#hispanic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#fiance girlfriend
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hello! could you write johnnie guilbert fluff? maybe a scenario where him and fem!reader are spending a day together (filming a video, doing random stuff) just being two people in love and jake and tara tease them and call them a married couple
deaf, mute and blind | j.g.
pairing: johnnie guilbert x fem!reader
summary: you, johnnie and jake are recording a new challenge video.
warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english isn’t my first language)
an: hi, thank you <33 hope you like it!
pictures are from pinterest :)
“Hi guys, it’s me, Tara, and today I’m here with Jake, y/n and Johnnie.” Tara introduced you and you all waved to the camera.
“Hi!” you greeted her viewers.
“Today I’m gonna torture my guests… No, but I wish.” she pouted and you all laughed “Today, my guests will be playing into deaf, mute and blind but…they will have many challenges and quests to do throughout the day. But they main goal is to do shopping and bake me cookies! Any words guys?”
“I hope I get deaf, cause I don’t think I can go much longer with them talking.” you rolled your eyes looking at Jake and your boyfriend.
“Hey!” Johnnie gasped pretending to be offended, placing hand on his chest “That hurt love.”
You only rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that was forcing its way onto your face.
“Alright, so now they will draw sticks and get to know what senses will be taken from them!” Tara showed her viewers three sticks and then she turned to you “Ladies first.”
You took the one in the middle and immediately looked at written words.
“Yeah! I’m deaf today!” You did a little winning dance. Next one choosing stick was Johnnie and he got mute.
“Oh, so I will be blind.” Jake stated “That’s good actually, at least I don’t have to look at your ugly faces.” he smirked and you laughed.
Tara handed you all your things - blindfold for Jake, duck tape for Johnnie and earphones for you.
“Let me also add, that the person who won’t do the most of their mini challenges, has to take a cold shower on the street!” Tara smiled mischievously.
“Is this enough to charge her with domestic abuse?” Jake asked kind of scared.
When everyone was ready Tara started talking to the camera and you could only guess she was explaining to people what you gonna do and not long later Johnnie took your hand to let you know you were going out. You both helped blindfolded Jake to the car and Tara drove you to the nearest store.
She turned on the camera and pointed it at you and Johnnie. You didn’t see anyone talking so you decided to speak “I think Tara already told you guys but we’re making cookies so now we have to find all of the needed ingredients.” you informed and Tara pointed the camera to Johnnie who was gesturing towards some alley. He took your hand and started dragging you there with Tara going behind you but you suddenly stopped, remembering something.
You quickly turned around and jogged to Jake to walk him to Johnnie and Tara. He said something that made Tara laugh and Johnnie’s arms shudder in a silent laugh.
You really started to regret wanting to be deaf one, because not hearing anything yet seeing it, made you frustrated. Also, not hearing Johnnie made you kinda sad. But atleast you listened to your favorite songs.
You all went to grocery alley where Jake gave you his phone so you and Johnnie could find all ingredients for cookies.
Tara was pointing the camera on you all the time and you decided to speak from time to time in case she and Jake weren’t saying anything.
“So we will be doing chocolate chip cookies. Or rather we will be trying to instruct Jake to do it without hurting himself or poisoning us.” you felt a light push on your shoulder and you laughed seeing how Jake was struggling with trying to not miss your form while hitting.
Johnnie swatted Jake’s hand when he tried to hit your shoulder again and side hugged you while looking for flour.
“Johnnie, we need flour for cakes, this one is for bread.” you told him and he gave you a ‘what the hell’ face and you knew that if he could talk and you hear, he would be asking about the difference.
“Alright, I think we got everything.” you stated when you found everything and you all went to cashier’s stands where everyone was looking at you like at idiots, but that wasn’t anything new with Johnnie and Jake.
Tara quickly paid when it was yours turn and you and Johnnie walked Jake to the car.
When you were at home you quickly started to prepare kitchen for your baking.
Suddenly, you felt someone tugging gently at your arm and you saw Johnnie pointing ahead of you. You saw Tara pointing the camera at you all and you took it as a clue to start talking.
“Alright, so now we will be trying to instruct Jake how to make cookie dough, wish us luck!” you smiled sarcastically.
You somehow were cooperating well, Johnnie was showing you the recipe and you were reading it for Jake who then with your and yours boyfriend help were making most of the work.
When cookies were in the oven you didn’t have anything better to do so you sat on the floor in front of the oven and you were just looking at the cookies.
Some time later Johnnie joined you, sitting next to you and placing his head on your shoulder. You hugged him into your side and he gladly snuggled into you, kissing your shoulder.
You sat there for a few minutes, when Tara came to you with a camera and some bowl and told something to Johnnie and then showed you her phone, where she wrote in the notes that now you will be doing random challenges before you could take the cookies out from the oven. It would decide who is the loser of the video.
You all stood in the living room and Tara came to you with the bowl and you took one piece of paper.
“I’ve got ‘activity without your sense’” you read it for them and viewers out loud and then showed the piece of paper to the camera.
Moment later Tara gave you another paper, which turned out to be an instruction what your activity was.
“So I have to call a random contact and try to have normal conversation with that person. That will be hard.” you sighed “Can Johnnie and Jake help me? Like by gesturing?” You looked at Tara and she only nodded.
You looked at the camera and smiled “I’m actually kinda scared that they will gesturing wrong things and I will make a fool of myself.” you laughed and you could see Tara snorting.
Your challenges were done, it wasn’t that bad or at least you were hoping so.
Then you took the cookies out of the oven and tried them when they weren’t hot. They were really good.
“Teamwork makes a dream work, i guess.” you smiled at the camera.
Then you could finally take off the earphones and you were never as grateful for hearing Jake and Johnnie as now.
“God, it’s so good to hear people again. I missed your voice.” you told Johnnie who smiled widely at you and kissed your cheek.
“I’m glad to see again, but I’m scared of how many bruises I’ve got today.” Jake laughed while still trying to get use to the light in the room.
“Alright guys, they made it.” Tara smiled at the camera “I can’t with how cute y/n and Johnnie were today. Literally goals. You were like and old married couple.” she giggled and you smiled.
“So, who’s the loser?” Jake asked after few minutes.
“You Jake.” You laughed “You didn’t do any of your challenges correctly.”
“That’s true.” Tara smirked “You will do your punishment later.”
You stopped recording for some time so Tara could get all of the needed things for Jake’s punishment, so you and Johnnie went to sit on the couch while hugging.
“I really missed your voice today.” you admitted again quietly.
“And I missed talking to you.” he smiled “And kissing you.” he kissed you.
#johnnie guilbert x reader#johnnie guilbert#johnnie#jake webber#tara yummy#tarayummy#sam and colby#snc#colby brock#sam golbach#deaf mute and blind
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🌷 enhypen fic recommendations 🌷
okay i didn't add word counts !! sorry !! i only realized rn and i'm way to lazy to go and add them oops, some are long and some are short (it can be a nice surprise when you open the links)
lee heeseung strawberries and cigarettes - @chaconnenha heeseung x fem!reader, fluff, kinda suggestive (they kiss), badboy!heeseung ?? (he smokes) goodgirl!reader ?? (she doesn't smoke) this one gave me butterflies haha, super cute
nevertheless - @palajae idol!heeseung x gn!reader, fluff, crack maybe? (i thought it was funny) idk man this made me laugh out loud and it was also super cute
i don't want to be your roommate, i want to kiss your neck - @taeghi heeseung x fem!reader, fluff, angst (only a little), smut, best friends brother. yup i love lee heeseung and this made me go slightly feral
park jongseong no limits - @yeonzzzn jay x fem!reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut. i loved this so much, like it felt real yk i can picture dear jay owning a restaurant.
teddy bear - @okwonyo jay x fem!reader, fluff, established relationship. this one made me feel so warm i just want someone to call me princess and take care of me
sim jaeyun act now, think later - @sankyeom jake x fem!reader, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, down bad jake. guys this was so cute i was giggling and shit
erotic empathy - @simpjaes jake x fem!reader, fluff (maybe lol), smut, strangers to ?? jakes a virgin and reader makes him one no longer, idk i love loser boys
park sunghoon unsteady - @yeonzzzn sunghoon x fem!reader, exes to ?? angst, fluff, cheating? (not sunghoon tho) this was a bit sad but ended happy :)
ceo sunghoon - @hottestvirgin ceo!sunghoon x fem!collegestudent reader, fluff, smut, age gap. loved this so much, i would do literally anything for this man
kim sunoo mint choco hater - @sanrikis sunoo x fem!reader, strangers (?) to lovers (?), fluff. i actually love mint chocolate as a flavor so i cannot relate to this, but it was still so cute
misfit - @palajae sunoo x gn!reader, hogwarts au, hufflepuff!sunoo, slytherin!reader, fluff, strangers to lovers. i love harry potter and i love enhypen so yeah i loved this
yang jangwon kiss and no makeup - @soov jangwon x fem!reader, fluff, established relationship. jungwon is so cute and this is so cute and fluffy
kiss cam - @jaeyunverse jangwon x fem!reader, fluff, soooo much fluff, enemies(?) to lovers. um this was so cute and yes i know i say that for every fic but this was so cute :(
nishimura riki best friends can kiss, right? - @riki-dazed niki x reader, fluff, friends to lovers, there are 2 parts to this and in the second part they kiss a lot, so maybe suggestive? this was super cute, i'm such a sucker for friends to lovers tho
heart defender - @seosracha niki x fem!reader, fluff, enemies to lovers, fake dating, nikis kinda mean. i live laugh love high school aus so this was lovely
multiple members the perilla leaf debate - @jjunberry hyung line x reader, fluff, established relationships. this one made me happy bc i can be a little jealous sometimes oops
against the wall - @goldenhypen ot7 x reader, established relationships, fluff ? suggestive ?? just making out with enhypen basically
when their s/o calls them bro - @heeliopheelia ot7 x reader, fluff, suggestive for some?, established relationships. i never call anyone bro but this was still funny and cute
hugs in specific scenarios - @thejakeslayla ot7 x gn!reader, fluff, angst for some, established relationships physical touch is so my love language so this was great bc i love hugs
hot things they do - @atrirose ot7 x fem!reader, fluff, established relationships. these also had me giggling and kicking my feet
more than just friends - @atrirose ot7 x fem!reader, fluff, friends that are more than friends, established relationships?? friends to lovers is always a win in my eyes
( AS ALWAYS SEND ME YOUR RECOMENDATIONS PLS I LOVE READING FICS AND GETTING RECOMENDATIONS SO I WILL LOVE YOU IF YOU SEND ME YOUR RECOMENDATIONS AND FAV FICS )
#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enha x reader#enhypen niki#enhypen jay#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jake#yang jungwon#enhypen sunoo#enhypen smut#enhypen fluff#enhypen fic#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen soft hours
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Hey! I was just thinking about how would Jaemin who finds it hard to control himself and not to leave his pervert thoughts win , and his innocent gf who just willing to do whatever her bf wants would be so interesting , and how Jaemin's thoughts win in the end of the day ...
Thank you for your request🤍 I'm not very satisfied with what I wrote but I hope you like it🫶🏻
innocent f!reader x perv!jaemin
Warning:Smut,Jaemin being perv,doggystyle
wc:1,5k
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"Can you hand me my phone that's next to you?" Jaemin looked at you, then to his side and smiled slightly when he saw his phone. “Why don’t you get it yourself?” You looked up from the book you were reading and turned to your boyfriend, you ran your finger through the page of the book so you wouldn’t lose it, then you reached over Jaemin towards your phone. Jaemin watched the view with a grin, watching how your hips were exposed, how you arched your waist. He let out a low but deep moan.
As you were about to grab your phone and sit back down, a hand between your legs stopped you, turned to him. Jaemin was still smirking at your ass, his hand slow and gentle, his hand trailing up your inner thigh, briefly grazing your pussy. Jaemin took a deep breath, thinking for a moment about how he would bend you over from behind and fuck you until you passed out. “Lie down here.” You looked at him in disbelief, letting him guide you with his hands, making you lie face down and sideways on his legs so he could get a better look at your ass.
You didn’t question it too much and picked up your book and continued reading, Jaemin looked over your body from head to toe as he leaned his head against the headboard. He placed both hands on your hips and rested them there, trying to steady himself as your shorts had slipped up a little. You had sex often because of his general horniness, but how could he ever get enough of you? Such innocent behavior towards him was causing him to go crazy. You continued reading your book, Jaemin just hoped you didn’t notice the swelling underneath you.
──────────────────────
Towards the evening, you had decided to watch a movie because you were bored. You brought the popcorn into the living room, and when you leaned over to put it on the table, he took a deep breath and took his eyes off you. You turned to him. “Are you okay, baby?” He gave you a small smile and opened his arms, "I couldn't be better." You giggled and found yourself in his arms, Jaemin turned on the movie and you watched it for a while.
Everything was going pretty normally at first, until you leaned over the table when you had a craving for chocolate, and Jaemin quietly said your name while the image in front of him consisted entirely of your ass, “Y/n...You're going to drive me crazy." You sat down quickly, the feeling of your hips pressing hard against his cock made him hold his breath for a moment, he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, making you rub against him. “Jaemin, are you sure you’re okay?” Your eyes were still on the movie, Jaemin looked down and swept his eyes over the curve of your hips. “Keep watching, Y/n.”
You didn't say anything and handed him a piece of chocolate. As he was about to put the piece in his mouth, he saw that the chocolate, which had already melted, was smeared on your lip and he grinned. This time he approached your lips and licked the corner of your lips, then sucked your upper lip and whimpered silently at the taste of chocolate. When he pulled back and saw you looking at him in surprise, he smiled, took the piece in your hand and ate it. "Hm..I liked the taste of the one on your lips better."
You smiled slightly and turned yourself completely towards him and sat on his lap, this time it was him who looked at you with surprise. "Then would you like to eat again?" He grinned and bit his lower lip "Oh I can't say no to that." You kept a piece in your mouth and approached him, Jaemin muttered before taking the piece into your mouth "You have no idea what you're doing." He moved closer to your lips, placing his hands on your hips, moving you in place and causing you to grind against him again. He took the piece of chocolate from your mouth, chewed it for a while, and then kissed you on the lips.
He shamelessly stuck his tongue into your mouth, you couldn't help but moan into his mouth as you felt him caress yours with his tongue. He laid you down on the couch and sat on top of you, stepping back for a breath. “I’ve been holding myself back all day, but you’ve managed to make things hard for me again with your moves.” You watched him take off your pants. "I didn't do anything." he laughed hysterically, pressing himself against you after taking off your panties, you swallowed hard when you realized how swollen his cock was and looked at Jaemin. "Yeah? Still think the same now?"
He got up, you looked at him. "Turn around and bend over." You didn’t wait long and did as he said. Jaemin leaned over and grabbed your hips, licking your pussy a few times before bringing his dick behind you. You let out a moan as you held on tightly to the pillow in front of you, he laughed at that and this time he brought his fingers and started playing with your clit. "You're sensitive every time, your body reacts to the smallest thing, fuck it makes me want to fuck you harder." You whined for a while. "Then do it, please.."
He came closer to you and pulled your hair, placing a kiss on your neck. "Hm? You sure, baby?" You turned your head to him, kissing his lips. “If you want to, do it. It’s my fault that you're your dick swollen all day.” He grinned and pulled back, pressing his cock into you from behind and lingering in your hole for a moment. “A girlfriend who would do anything for her boyfriend, huh? I’m the luckiest man in the world, and to have you,” When he pushed his dick all the way inside you, you let out a loud moan and bowed your head. “And to have your pussy that I can fuck you whenever I want.”
He started moving quickly inside you without getting used to it at all, even though it hurt for a while, you didn’t complain, you knew it would feel good, and you liked it when Jaemin used your body the way he wanted. Jaemin just looked at the way your hips moved as he thrust into you hard. “Fuck, this view is...Enough to make me cum.” He put both of his hands on your waist and pulled you closer as if it was possible, this caused him to enter you easily with harder movements. You couldn't speak or do anything else as your moans turned into screams.
His entire cock was enveloping you, your newly wet juices just starting to surround Jaemin’s cock.The room was filled with your moans, the sound of your bodies, and of course the sound of the movie that was left on. Jaemin was so focused on the pleasure that he couldn’t even hear your sounds, your hole was still tight for him even though he kept fucking you, and oh it drove him crazy every time. He threw his head back, let out deep breaths with his mouth slightly open, closed his eyes for a moment and listened to how beautifully you moaned for him.
His cock continued to squeeze your walls, thrusting hard inside you, "Fuck...I'm close already, fuck you feel so good baby." He spoke between breaths, he could feel that you were close as well so he didn't stop or rest, his movements became irregular in you. "Jaemin...Keep going, please..I-" your sentence was left unfinished, you couldn’t even finish it, you just buried your head in the pillow and continued to moan, Jaemin laughed "Hm? Are you in such a in a difficult situation that you can't even talk? Already?" He licked his dry lips and let out a deep groan, "It's a shame I'm not finished with you yet then."
You whimpered, your legs were already about to give out, you were so wet you could feel it leaking out. "Jaemin-" "I know baby, leave yourself to me," Those words were enough to make you cum, you continued to moan as you reached your orgasm, Jaemin threw his head back with his mouth open. “Fuck.” He then bent his head and pulled his cock out of you, licking his lips as he watched how mixed your juices were. He brought his fingers and caressed it, after standing there for a while, you threw yourself on the couch and looked at him. He smiled at you and kissed your lips "You okay baby?" You nodded, couldn't feel your legs, he was harder than before, you felt exhausted already.
Jaemin looked at the table, looked at the open molten chocolate, picked it up, then looked at you. “Good, now can you handle me eating you out?”
#nct imagines#nct reactions#nct dream reactions#nct dream imagines#nct dream#nct dream smut#nct smut#jaemin x reader#nct jaemin#jaemin imagines#jaemin smut#jaemin x y/n#jaemin x you#jaemin#nct dream scenarios
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if you're still interested in smutty requests.. what about the line "want me to serenade you while you strip?" and it's eddie jokingly saying this to reader and she runs with it and he tries to keep playing but COME ON there's more important things those fingers should be doing 👀
congrats! u win the award for most eddie coded request of all time :D — eddie makes you laugh when you get nervous undressing in front of him (18+, allusion to smut, 0.7k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
“Stop looking at me like that!” you whine with your arms crossed over your nearly bare chest. “You’re making it weird!”
Eddie laughs loud. “Where am I supposed to look?” he asks, leaning back on the mattress and propping his weight on his elbows. He’s got a better view of you from this angle. More of your half-naked body in his sight.
“I can feel you looking at me— It’s making me feel weird.”
“Well, how am I supposed to look anywhere else when you’re in front of me like this, huh?”
His eyes are lidded and swimming with melted chocolate. You’re not sure how you’ve captured his attention like this, in the tamest underwear you own and your most ancient bra. He’s looking at you like you’re already undressed — like you’re still pretty even though you aren’t.
“You’re an idiot,” you giggle, glittering with adoration.
“And you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he quips without thinking twice, wild head titled to his shoulder and a crooked smirk on his kissed mouth. “So I guess we’re even.”
His eyes rake over you again, heavy like it’s the first time they’ve ever seen you.
He pulls his plush lip between his teeth and, almost absentmindedly so, brings his palm to the crotch of his jeans. He grips his covered cock with a pale hand, shifting it slightly within the confines of the denim. It grows slowly and achingly stiff the longer he looks at you.
Eddie looks like a Renaissance painting like this. Ethereal and hedonistic. You almost forget to breathe.
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” you say with a forced laugh.
“You’re half-naked in my bedroom, doll— that’s all you need to do,” he chuckles, golden and more sincere than yours. His ringed fingers clutch tighter at his covered bulge. He breathes hard through his nose. “You could be fully clothed, and you’d still turn me on.”
“Stop messing with me,” you argue in a tiny voice, features twisted in a subtle pout.
“I’m not messing with you.”
“Do you want me to get naked? Or should I just stand here for the next two minutes?”
“Two minutes? C’mon. Give me a little credit. At least, two-and-a-half,” Eddie jokes. And then, when you laugh, he assures you. “You don’t have to get undressed if it makes you uncomfortable. Unless it would make you feel better if I serenaded you—”
“No.”
“—Too late.”
You reach your arms for the clasp of your bra. Eddie’s voice fills the trailer — “do, do, do, do-do-do-do-do-do” — the high-pitched intro to “I Was Made for Loving You.” It makes you laugh loud. A big, girlish laugh that makes your head drop back.
Your bra comes off, and you forget to be nervous.
“Why are you laughin’ at me, huh?” Eddie jokes, eyes going squishy around the edges when he looks at you.
“‘Cause that’s, like, the least sexiest part of that song.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Well, are you gonna keep singing, superstar? Or am I gonna have to keep my underwear on?”
He goes dumb for a flash of a second, forgets the lyrics and how to form the words of them in his mouth. He jumbles them together for a second in mindless mumbles until the real thing spills from his lips. “—‘Cause girl, you were made for me… And girl, I was made for you…”
You tug your panties down your thighs while he sings for you. You make a big show of it too, tossing the pair of them into your lover’s lap and giggling when it gets him all flustered.
“Fuck— c’mere,” he urges, as dumb as he is breathless, now that you’re fully naked in front of him. His hand drops to his lap again, palming at his stiffening length to ease the ache there. His free hand reaches out for you. “Can you— Just come sit in my lap, baby, please.”
You don’t know why he’s groveling. You were breaking the second you saw him melting for you. Not thinking straight enough to tease him about it, you settle yourself over his lap — kneeling on the mattress, both of your thighs straddling one of his.
You linger there, just above him. Eddie’s ringed hands reach gently for your warm jaw to pull you closer to him. You don’t give in so easily — “Keep singing for me, rockstar. You got a show to warm up for, remember?”
Eddie blinks up at you, eyes wide and lidded and honeyed. He looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky. Like you’re some ethereal being carved out of stone. Like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen because you are.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath. “This is so fucking metal.”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: bug turns one
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