#i would love a photographer to get into this just so i could watch their photo editing process start to finish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 months

Text

(Don't You) Steal My Thunder

my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles

Tyler Owens x fem!reader 7k words

summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.

a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.

again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth

masterlist | twisters masterlist

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.

He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.

Tyler Owens is a problem.

And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.

Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.

And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.

It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.

Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.

Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.

But he's just such a fucking asshole.

You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.

Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.

Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.

Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.

You're just doing your job.

The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.

You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).

This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.

And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.

Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.

“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”

“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”

Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.

“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”

His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.

“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”

The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.

By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.

So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.

Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.

“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.

"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."

You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.

"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.

"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.

His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.

"I don't drink."

You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.

Not that you want to.

"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.

"I don't drink with you."

He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.

"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.

"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."

His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.

"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."

"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."

He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.

"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"

He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"I'm not a fan of you."

Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.

"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.

For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.

"I try."

With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.

"I'd still buy you a beer."

"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.

...

You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.

The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.

This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.

It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.

"Hey, weather girl!"

You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.

"What do you want, Owens?"

Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.

"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."

He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.

Not that you'd been about to.

Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.

You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.

You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.

You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.

It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.

Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.

You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.

"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.

"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."

You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.

"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)

"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.

The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.

"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."

He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.

"Cameras are off, I swear."

You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.

God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.

You're so, so stupid.

"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."

...

You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.

Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...

But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.

When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.

"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.

"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."

"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."

You pull your eyebrows even further up.

"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"

"Nope. Not familiar."

But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.

You just shake your head and turn away from him.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."

...

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.

The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.

Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.

That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.

Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.

It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.

You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.

But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...

"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.

"What?"

"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.

"You're shitting me."

Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.

"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.

His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.

It takes you a second too long to realise why.

"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"

"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.

"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."

"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."

The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.

"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."

You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.

"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"

"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."

He is.

He's right now. He's right usually.

Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.

Fuck him.

"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."

You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.

He puts the bill flat on the bar top.

But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.

"The price just went up", he says.

You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.

"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"

He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.

"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.

A kiss.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.

Especially with that forecast.

The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.

"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."

...

At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.

"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.

"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."

"But it collapsed this morning."

You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.

"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"

You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.

"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."

...

You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.

You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.

You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.

He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.

And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.

It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.

"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.

"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.

"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"

"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."

Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.

"Alright, so we wait."

You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.

"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."

You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.

It makes reading close to impossible.

Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.

That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.

You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.

You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.

Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.

Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.

But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.

You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?

So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.

For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.

"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.

"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."

Well, it's hard to break bad habits.

Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?

Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.

"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.

Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.

You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.

"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:

"So I'm Watson, yeah?"

Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.

It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.

You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.

"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.

Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.

And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.

"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."

"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.

Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.

You want more of Tyler Owens.

"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.

"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"

"I could never."

"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."

His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.

"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."

His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.

"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."

And then your lips are on his.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.

He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.

You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.

"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.

"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.

But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.

You chuckle against his lips.

"If you feel it, chase it, right?"

#twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens twisters #x reader

2K notes · View notes

simpingland · 4 months

Text

Req: Can you write something with Ewan Mitchell and his co-star (pronounced feminine) where they are on the set of season 2 and how he is surprised by every performances that fem gives (Fem's character is bad and perverse), since since the recordings of season one he was already staring at her surprised by her actings and now with Season 2 he wants to spend more time with her, plus he likes her.

The Rehearsal// Ewan Mitchell x Fem!actress

Summary: Ewan is a method actor and it has been working fine for him. But he regrets this decision when season 2 of HOTD starts with a love scene, being partner with a lovely talented actress who propaply hates him and his mathods. But nothing is better than asking for help when one needs it, right?

|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|

Ewan watched from the monitor, patch removed but wig still on, your close-up was impressive. One look at you and you could see all the ambitions that were going through your character's mind, and he himself regretted not having told you yet. The good news was that filming for season two had just begun, and in this new season, Ewan had the opportunity to do scenes only with you.

They shouted cut, and you immediately broke into a smile, laughing after such an intense scene. You received compliments as you were photographed to keep the raccord straight.

"Congratulations, that's a good start," the director said to you. "Remember you have a special sequence tomorrow, get a good rest."

Yes, you remembered. And Tom (who played your brother Aegon) smiled mischievously at you. It was a kissing scene with Ewan, with whom you had barely exchanged a word since the moment you were confirmed as part of the cast, a year and a half ago. You only spoke a little at the audition, which was a chemistry test, and he was a sweet, unassuming guy. When he was announced as the official actor of Aemond... it was something different. You didn't interact in the scenes in the first season, his scenes were shared more with Fabien and Tom, while you had shared scenes with Olivia and Phia (Alicent and Helaena). The chemistry your characters were supposed to have was only hinted by the placement of you both in the scene or montages of shots that you only saw once the series was released. And in the meantime, Ewan had stayed away from all those with whom he didn't share any dialogue, with the excuse of staying focused on his character. Tom had already told you numerous times that Ewan thought you were a fantastic actress, but you always responded the same way.

"If he does, let him tell me so. Then I'll be flattered.”

When the script for the second season came, both of you, in your respective homes, had your hearts skipped a beat. Your character would approach Aemond in the throne room in the middle of the night. And there they not only talk, but share a kiss that promises to go further in the following seasons. Aemond confessed his love for your character, and being that it was a story taken from the world of Game of Thrones, it was sure to end in much more intimate scenes. Normal for actors and comfortable for a cast that was so friendly and close. But with Ewan being so distant and serious? It was difficult. You didn't even dare to call him. Nor did he call you. What you did do was call Tom.

"She hasn't spoken to me once since we started filming. I've seen her look at me sometimes, like she's trying to talk to me but then, before I could say a word, she's gone quiet again. Tom...I don't think I should take being a method actor so seriously," he said to the other actor.

"It amuses me immensely to be the connecting point for both of you. Don't worry, Ewan, she's a sweetheart, and very understanding. She knows that everyone has their own procedure. So if she has respected your method, you should respect hers."

"And what is her procedure?"

"According to Phia, she loves to walk back and forth repeating her lines in a thousand ways."

Right, Ewan saw the video Phia sent around the group so everyone could see how lunatic you looked. And even there, after discovering you were being filmed, you smiled tenderly at Phia asking her to stop. What else would he have missed since you weren't talking?

You had already taken off your wig, your hair was loose and your dress had been off for quite a while. You were waiting to take off your make-up when your trailer was called. You were expecting anyone, happy to have any interaction with the wonderful team around you, but when you saw Ewan, the smile must have dropped a little.

"Sorry if I'm intruding. Is it late?" Ewan asked you as he saw your friendly greeting getting lost in the air.

It wasn't dark yet, and the next day's filming was starting early, so you genuinely didn't know what to say to him.

"Well... I have to finish off some of the lines for tomorrow.’

The lines you had to say with him, and he knew that. But since that wasn't an invitation, Ewan understood instantly and nodded.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you...it's been an awesome first day of shooting for you. It's no wonder you're a fan favorite."

That made you blush.

"Well, that means a lot coming from you."

He smiled sheepishly at you, you were taller than he was, standing on the trailer and he was on the grass a few stairs down. And yet he seemed way too big.

"I promise I'll be on time tomorrow so we'll have plenty of time to rehearse," he said, trying to get out of the strange conversation he had started.

You nodded and watched as he walked away, the patch in his hand and taking off his seatbelts. Did he come with the intention of chatting? My God, you'd had a chance to talk at length with your fellow cast member and you'd wasted it? You needed to go over the scene as much as possible!

"Ewan!" You called out to him, hanging almost on your doorstep, he turned with that agility that is so engaging on screen (and in person). "Are you done for the day?"

"I've got to get out of my costume. But...yes, I'm done."

"Would you mind..." you mumbled in an exaggeratedly loud voice for him to hear. How embarrassing. "Would you mind dropping by again to rehearse?"

Ewan stood still for a second. He watched you from afar, so affectionate and shy, totally contrary to your character, and felt a deep tenderness.

"I'll be back in half an hour," he promised you.

You looked forward to it, and you'd be lying if you didn't say that you'd put your make-up back on a bit. Ewan, on the other hand, was hurrying more than usual to remove his own clothes, forgetting to remove his fake scars in the rush that followed him. He was punctual, and in thirty and a half minutes, he was knocking on your door again.

"I really appreciate you doing this, Ewan," you said as he climbed into your trailer.

"Don't worry, it's going to be fun."

You looked at each other for a second, smiling, kind of gawking, which was nothing like the scene you had to recreate.

"How do you prepare for a scene?" You ask.

"I listen to some music. But I want to try what you do. "

He looked at you expectantly, and you suddenly felt embarrassed. Like the girls at the school function.

"So... I close my eyes, and I create a map where everything looks a little bit like the set."

"And what do we choose to be the throne?" Ewan smiled, which made you blush even more.

"Well... "There was a fully finished teacup, with the inelegantly squeezed bag next to it, dripping. You'd forgotten to clean it up completely. "That cup itself."

Ewan frowned slightly, teasingly, and nodded. The next step for you was harder to explain.

"Now, Ewan, I need some space."

He sat down on your couch, script to one side, the bastard having already memorized it all. And from there he watched live what he'd been craving for months, watching you pace back and forth. You read the annotations and your lines.

"They will never forgive our family for what I did," Ewan replied, intoning in the silky voice he gave Aemond.

"If it's any consolation, I doubt they would be willing to let us live even if we had given them the throne willingly, Aemond..." though you paced, your hands and gestures maintained theatricality, and you repeated the phrase three more times, all with trapped deliberation. "This pantomime of repentance can only convince Mother...but not me."

"What pantomime do you mean?" replied Aemond.

Then your character stopped looking at Aemond to stare at the Throne. In this case you stopped to stare at the ugly teacup. You had to hold back a smile. Ewan looked at it too.

"It's impossible to fool you, it always has been." Ewan got up from the sofa and approached you, as Aemond does with your character. "It is a crude, chaotic and ugly object, but always that which I have desired."

Then the laughter you'd been holding back escaped, unable to think of the mug as anything else. And Ewan laughed with you, all the tension disappearing instantly. Now he could understand the affection with which everyone spoke of you.

"I'm sorry, really," you said, getting serious again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, this is fun. I'm going to try your method. Shall we close our eyes?"

"That's right."

You closed them at the same time, thinking about the huge room, illuminated by a silver light that simulated the moon. And after a few seconds, Ewan opened his eyes to look at you. Although you didn't have your white hair, or the elegant dress, your eyes were the same, as beautiful and bright as they were behind the cameras. And he had the privilege of being the focus of your attention and having them in the foreground.

"Though I think I was always more subtle with another of my longings..." he whispered close to your lips.

"That you tried at least" you whispered back.

"When I get the throne I'll need someone as sharp as you to accompany me. There is no woman in the seven kingdoms who compares to you."

Then came the kiss. You looked into Ewan's eyes, up his nose and down to his lips. What was there left to throw yourself? Not much, but with him being so reclusive, with that being one of the few times you spoke to each other, it felt strange to pounce on him without consent. So you walked away, leaving the scene there.

"We can work this out with the director and the intimacy coordinator, if you like," Ewan suggested, a little flushed and extremely sweet.

You poured him a cup of tea while you discussed the romance that your characters might have developed over the years that the series skips. You imagined romantic scenes that might have led up to that kiss and concluded that they were a toxic couple, but possibly better than Rhaenyra and Daemon.

"You know, I love the way you act and I love that I discovered your process," he confessed. "I think the admiration part is not going to be too hard to act out."

"Oh...my process is really ridiculous, everyone laughs at me. I'm glad it at least works. But it gives me a hard time at auditions," you laughed nervously.

"Well, it's true that it's fun to watch. But it's certainly worth it. I don't think you have anything to envy the others, you're...magnetic." He said it with a seriousness that moved you, adding to his intense gaze. "I'm sorry I wasn't smart enough to tell you sooner, because I've been thinking about it since the day they put me in the same room you were in, back at the audition.”

You froze a little, so you just said what you felt in the simplest way and with the most honest smile.

"Thank you."

Ewan took the last sip of his tea and before he left you remembered one of the thousand questions you had for him.

"Is there a reason you haven't removed the scar? Something to do with method acting?"

"Scar?"

You touched his cheek, where the scar began, and Ewan understood instantly.

"Ah, gee, I completely forgot to go through makeup. I'll get a telling off tomorrow."

"Not if you sleep on it until tomorrow" you joked. "Let me help you, I love fake wounds."

You stood next to him, towering over him a little, and lifted the thin layer of silicone with the delicacy you had seen in make-up artists. You were envious of the woman who was in charge of characterising a person as curiously attractive as Ewan. He also smelled exaggeratedly good.

When you took it off, you threw it into the creepy teacup from earlier.

"I've almost run out from, the costume department before," he justified himself. You took the opportunity to wipe that part of her face with a makeup remover wipe. "I usually do this part myself..."

"I know, but I like it..."

And while you were stroking his face with the excuse of cleaning it, Ewan was watching your lips, and didn't notice that you had noticed. You pushed the wipe away, stroking his chin, and at the same time, you both pressed your lips together. A strange kiss, something special, sweet and soft. You stretched it out, standing almost still, afraid of what would happen if you broke apart. When you finally did, you looked at each other with a look of confusion, though neither you nor Ewan pulled away.

It was a dangerous idea, he was your partner, and you had been unprofessional. You broke away.

"I think you should rest. I've distracted you too much." Your tone came out agitated and Ewan rose slowly.

"No, it's all right. I liked it. I liked everything. Didn't you?" He had emphasised the word 'everything' and was looking at you with lambent eyes.

"Yes...I loved being with you."

He said goodbye with a smile of his, and you bowed at your door like a little girl. Most of the team had already gone to rest and you barely noticed.

You had to put on more concealer than usual the next day because of the lack of sleep you'd had from that strange kiss. Ewan had kept his promise and had arrived a good while earlier to re-rehearse the scene. You did it without the kiss or the lights, just with the director's instructions and with your cheeks flushed as you exchanged glances.

"Did you practice with the kiss?" the intimacy coordinator asked you.

You were completely silent. Ewan answered for you.

"Not really, maybe it's better to give a first kiss at the moment of the shot. More realism."

"Well, then I guess you've worked out the sexual tension and dynamics of your characters."

Ewan nodded and smiled, which made you smile. Had he put hours of sleep into your little meeting yesterday? Yes, he had, and he told the woman who was putting on his scar who asked him who had removed it the day before. When you returned to the set, lights on, costumes on, cameras rolling, Ewan looked at you in the distance, asking you with his eyes if you were ready. You nodded with a shy smile, and began to act when they shouted action.

Aemond, still dressed and coming from the castle library, walked into the empty throne room to watch you. You walked behind him, in a smart dressing gown, your hair loose and trying uselessly not to make a sound. Aemond then spoke aloud.

"They will never forgive our family for what I did."

You approached Ewan, who still wouldn't look at you.

"If it's any consolation, I doubt they would be willing to let us live even if we had given them the throne willingly, Aemond..." You leaned into him a little, as the director had recommended. He was so tall and so tense that you felt as safe as if you were leaning against a stone pillar. "This pantomime of repentance can only convince Mother...but not me." Then Aemond would look down to see you out of the corner of his eye, which made your character - and you - nervous.

"What pantomime do you mean?"

Then you looked at the throne, now there was no laughter to disturb you, only the terrible seat of swords before you. And Aemond was looking at it too.

"It's impossible to fool you, it always has been. It is a brutish, chaotic, ugly object, but always that which I have desired."

After a pause, he turned fully around to look at you, his height becoming primordial in that short distance. In that low light, Ewan's visible eye looked into your eyes, dropping to your lips subtly.

"Though I think I was always more subtle with another of my longings..." he whispered in his velvety tone.

"That you tried at least" you replied trying to keep your composure. If they knew how hard you were struggling not to fall to your knees at that moment they would have nominated you for an Emmy by now.

"When I get the throne I'll need someone as clever as you to accompany me. There is no woman in the seven kingdoms who compares to you."

He stroked your face gently, something that coming from Ewan was tender and expected, immensely pleasing, but then you remembered that Aemond could never be so gentle in the face of his urges, and you let your own out. You pressed yourself against him, pressing your lips together with all the assurance you had longed for the night before. You could feel Ewan intensify your kiss even more, placing his hand on your neck. All the possible kisses that had been going on in your head during the night were now dwarfed by the kiss that was happening right there. As fierce as your characters, with the longing you had just discovered that you and Ewan had shared for a year and a half.

It was only when they shouted 'cut' that you broke apart, catching your breath and barely breaking away. Some applause, chatter and comments from the team, you could hear little of what they were saying. You pulled away flushed, laughing at the sudden intensity. You looked at the director as Ewan smoothed his jacket.

"Let's look at the shot, I think it was simply perfect, congratulations."

Another round of applause, and you felt Ewan brush your unruly hair out of your face, stroking it as he ruffled your hair.

"What a pity not to have to repeat this scene..." He confessed.

"That's the thing about being so talented," you joked.

"Obviously..." he removed his patch and turned back to you to ask in a quieter voice, "although I'd love to have more private acting classes with you..."

You smiled at the hint.

"I'll give them to you if in exchange you let me remove your fake scars again."

"Deal."

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd x reader #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell x reader #celebrities x reader #house of the dragon imagines #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon aemond

2K notes · View notes

yandere-writer-momo · 3 months

Text

Yandere Head Canons:

Careful What You Wish For

Yandere Fling (Stalker) x Fem Reader

It was just supposed to be a one night stand. A moment of heated passion with a stranger… yet why was Arturo so obsessed with you? You had only met him last night… or so you thought.

You had met Arturo at a party and he had such a charm to him. It was like an instant connection. Not only were all of his interests compatible with yours, but he was also compatible in bed with you.

How often did one find a guy who would bend you over in every position and eat you out until you cried? Never. Arturo was one of the best lovers you ever had… nearly perfect. If he hadn’t rambled some nonsense in your ears while he pounded you into his mattress.

Until he told you that he loved you when he finally came undone inside of you. Of how he had wanted to grant your wish for so long. You had pushed the unsettling phrases he said in the moment in the back of your head last night but now reality began to set in. Had you just slept with someone who could be a stalker?

His lips lazily placed kisses up and down your shoulders as his muscular arms pulled you closer to his bare body. “Last night was amazing… how about another round, mi corazon?”

You nervously chuckled and tried to shimmy yourself away from him but he only held onto you even tighter. Arturo nestled his face into the crook of your neck, his beard tickled.

“Why the rush? We had a pretty eventful time last night.” Arturo pressed a kiss to your shoulder, a playful glint now in his brown eyes. “How about we get breakfast together? It’s on me.”

“That’s perfectly alright.” You nervously tried to pull away once more, but Arturo didn’t let up. “I need to use the bathroom, can you let me go?”

Arturo quickly released you, the man sat up and stretched. “I’m sorry… it’s the third room on the right. Don’t mind the second one, it’s a little messy.”

You nodded your head at his words. You quickly sauntered out of the room and into the hall.. A bit of curiosity filled you when you thought of the ‘messy’ second room. What could be in there?

You glanced back and noticed Arturo hadn’t followed you so you quietly opened the second room to quench your curious eyes. Just a peak wouldn’t hurt, right? Only for your heart to drop in pure horror. Why… why was this room covered in photographs of you? A lit up monitor that displayed the intimate layout of your house lit up the entire room. How did he have access to your home like this? Was he… was he your stalker?

You tried to back out but your back bumped into a muscular chest. You were about to release a loud scream but Arturo quickly placed a hand over your mouth.

“Shhh. You weren’t supposed to go in there, silly.” Your face paled when his other hand shut the door. You could feel his heart rapidly beat in his chest. “It’s okay though. I’m glad you know how I feel about you now. It makes this all that much easier.”

Arturo swung you around and placed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. His hands greedily grasped at your hips.

“I’ve been watching you for so long and now you’re finally here… I won’t let you go.” You tried to push against him, to fight him, but he only chuckled at your weak attempts. You were nothing more than a kitten that attempted to scratch at a lion. A fact he found so utterly adorable. “You’re going to love it here, I promise.”

2K notes · View notes

velvetcrimsonkisses · 2 months

Text

Nanami and his camera...

Note: not smut but suggestive... very domestic nanami

Masterlist Discord

Nanami never saw the point in the whole “sending nudes” thing. He found it cliché and stupid, a meaningless exchange that seemed to reduce romantic relationships to superficial transactions. He believed that there was so much more to a relationship than just sending naked photos to each other, Nanami valued the tangible, authentic moments that built a real bond between two people. And that was one of the reasons you were so drawn to him.

He was respectful, kind, and hardworking–everything you could hope for in a man. Nanami embodied all the qualities of a perfect gentleman. And of course being in a committed relationship, it's natural to want to give your lover gifts. And so you did. One year into your relationship, you gift Nanami a camera.

Saying he liked it was an understatement, he adored it. He started off with simple things, like taking pictures of the meals he cooked, photographs of the scenery in the backyard, especially when the stray cats came to sunbathe on his porch. However, out of all the various things he photographed, his favorite was undeniably you.

He had a way of capturing you in your most candid moments, revealing sides of you even you hadn’t seen before. Doesn’t matter if you were lost in thought reading a book by the window, laughing uncontrollably at a joke he made with his dry humor, or gazing at the sunset after he took you out to dinner, Nanami found beauty in your every expression, every gesture. His eyes, through the lens, saw you as some kind of goddess.

Even at night, when you were all ready for bed and fast asleep, Nanami liked capturing you in those tranquil moments. Something about how peaceful you looked as you slept brought him a sense of serenity. The way your chest rises and falls softly as you breathe, the way your hair generously fanned out across the pillow, and the way the thin sheets dipped into the natural curves of your body. All these small details captivated him.

It took him a while for him to build his confidence to take those pictures while you were awake. He just couldn’t help it the day you wore that sheer nightdress to bed that one night. His jaw drops in awe as you slide into the sheets with him, his eyes not once flattering off your body.

“What’s wrong Kento…” you ask, making yourself comfortable in bed as you notice the way he seems lost in thought.

Kento clears his throat, snapping back to reality, picking his jaw back up as if he just realized he’d been staring for too long. "You look lovely," he says, his voice a little unsteady. "Is that a new dress?"

You smile at him and nod. You did in fact just purchase the dress, feeling the soft fabric against your warm skin. You had hoped it would catch his attention. And it definitely was working, noticing the soft red blush creeping up on his cheeks.

You watch his eyes take in every detail of the dress. The intricate lace pattern running up the dress, the way the fabric hugs your figure just right, and the softness of it that he could only dream of touching. The way that man looked at you always made you feel special, as if you’re the only person in the world at that moment.

“May I take a picture of you?” He croaks out, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and shyness.

“Of course,” you reply, a playful twinkle in your eyes that he catches. “But get my good side,” you tease him.

He laughs, a soft genuine smile spreading across his face. He slowly picked up the camera from his nightstand. Lifting it to his face as you patiently waited for him to snap the shot. He looks through the viewfinder, admiring your beautiful face, taking in every small detail of your face that makes you, you. His eyes continue trail down, lingering on the lacy neckline of the dress, adoring the way it gracefully hugs your shoulders and falls effortlessly along your frame.

He finally presses the button to snap the picture. The sound of the shutter clicking sends a rush through his body. He looks down at the picture he had taken. It was breathtaking. You were stunning beyond belief in his eyes.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, almost to himself, as he lowers the camera back down. His eyes come back to meet yours and you could almost swear your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. His hands finally resting on your body, feeling the soft fabric against it.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami drabbles #nanamin #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento x reader #kento x reader #jjk kento #kento x y/n

913 notes · View notes

starkwlkr · 4 months

Text

american royalty | max verstappen

kennedy!reader

US GRAND PRIX (TIME SKIP)

Max was in panic mode. Little baby Luke did not want to leave his father’s side. Yeah, it was cute, but Max had to be in the car in five minutes.

“I don’t want to leave you either, baby, but papa has to go race.” Max whispered to the seven month old. It amazed y/n and Max how quickly Luke had grown.

Y/n wanted to burst into tears right then and there in Max’s driver’s room, but she held it in. She loved her boys so much.

“You should go, I don’t want you to be late.” Y/n told Max, which made him frown. “You’ll see us after.” She chuckled and grabbed Luke from Max’s arms. Instantly, the boy started to whine.

“It’s okay, Luke, papa is just going to win the race and then he’ll be back for more cuddles.” Max pressed a light kiss to his son’s head.

Y/n and Max kept your relationship very private so no one apart from their families knew about their relationship or baby Luke. When she did attend a race, she watched from Max’s driver’s room. Usually she was alone, but now she had Luke to keep her company. Before y/n could say something, Max turned to her.

“How much longer do you think you and Luke will be watching from here? Don’t get me wrong, I love you both for coming. I think it would be better if my family watches from the garage.” Max waited for you answer. He was sure y/n was going to be mad at him for even suggesting that idea, but she smiled at him.

“You read my mind.” She kissed his lips.

So without hesitation, Max grabbed her hand and together as a family, they walked in the direction of the Red Bull Garage.

When Max saw photographers start to notice y/n, he grabbed Luke from her and took off his Red Bull hat, using it to shield Luke from the cameras. They both agreed to keep their son away from the media. They quickly arrived to the garage just in time.

“Check’s wife, Carola, is here. You can sit with her so you don’t have to be alone.” Max said as he led her through the garage. “And she has kids so that’s something you both have in common!” He tried to lighten up the mood.

“We’ll be okay, won’t we?” She tickled Luke’s side, which made the boy giggle.

“Max!” His race engineer, Gianpiero, called out. “Who’s this smiley boy?” He waved to Luke.

“My son, Luke, and this is my wife, Y/n.” Max introduced her to the British man. She didn’t correct Max on the term he used for her, it felt right coming from his mouth.

“Welcome to the Red Bull family!” He smiled at y/n.

After talking for a short time, Max had to leave so he gave y/n and Luke a kiss and a hug then left. She was introduced to Carola. It didn’t take long for the two women to get along.

Halfway through the race, the camera was focused on y/n for a few seconds. She was looking at a different monitor so she didn’t even realize she was on tv.

“And we have American royalty in the paddock today. There she is, Miss Y/n Kennedy, daughter to the late JFK Jr. and his wife Carolyn. Didn’t know she was a Red Bull fan.” Crofty said.

Immediately, Twitter was having a field day.

Y/n’s phone was flooded with notifications, but she ignored them. Baby Luke and Y/n were about to witness Max win.

As predicted, Max came in first with Checo taking second place. While Carola took her kids to watch their dad on the podium, Y/n stayed behind with Luke. As much as she wanted to watch Max, she didn’t want to expose Luke to everyone.

While the Red Bull team celebrated another win, y/n looked down at her son. “I think dad would’ve loved to be here, don’t you think?” Y/n asked. “Mom on the other hand . . . She would’ve loved Max that’s for sure.”

The topic of her parents made her emotional so she stopped talking. But it was definitely clear that y/n’s parents would’ve loved Max. Even if the media painted him out to be some kind of villain, Max Verstappen was far from it.

Max quickly made his way back to his family after the podium celebrations. He was eager to show his son his trophy, but before he could do that, he was stopped by Charles.

“You’re dating THE y/n kennedy?!”

“How do you even know?” Max wondered.

“Mate, you’re trending all over twitter. The cameras showed her, but what I want to know is why didn’t you tell me? I thought we agreed to tell each other everything!”

“You agreed, I didn’t.” Max corrected him.

“Still! You’re basically important in the eyes of america now. So if you get married, does that mean you’re automatically a US citizen and you can be president?” The Ferrari driver asked.

“I’m pretty sure in order to be president you have to be born in the US— why am I still talking to you? I have to go see my family.” Max said as he ran to the Red Bull garage.

“Congratulations, mr. president!”

Of course calling Max ‘mr. president’ became an inside joke in the paddock.

When Max made it back to the garage, he saw y/n talking with several drivers, one being the only American driver, Logan. At least they were keeping his family company.

“When Max is on break, he sleeps through the night, but he wakes up several times when his dad is gone. He’s such a daddy’s boy.” Y/n explained to Logan, Lando and Oscar.

“Of course he is, I’m the best dad in the world.” Max interrupted.

“Look at you, daddy Max.” Lando joked.

“Oh god, mate. Don’t ever say that again.” Oscar said.

“Anyways . . . How’d you like the race, y/n?” Logan asked the kennedy woman. He felt so at home at the moment. He was so honored to even be talking to someone related to the president of his country.

“It was amazing. Luke and I enjoyed every minute of it. Maybe we’ll just have to come back for another race.” Y/n looked at Max with hopeful eyes. Baby Luke cooed at his father.

“We are going to Mexico next and you love Mexico . . .”

“Great, we’ll be seeing the first family back in the paddock. It was great to meet you, y/n and you too baby Luke.” Lando smiled cheekily at the mom and son.

“You know Charles just called me Mr. President and now this? What else is going to happen?” Max laughed.

“Who knows, maybe you might end up being the president?”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 #max verstappen x you #kennedy!reader

3K notes · View notes

natsukishinomiyaswife · 2 months

Text

Lovesick

This is a love letter to all of my wonderful friends, who I appreciate so so much!! ♡ These are short scenarios featuring their favorite characters being sappy and in love with the Reader ♡ Enjoy! ♡

Characters included: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil, Rook, Vil, Idia, Lilia

Leona Kingscholar

☆ For @midnightmah07, @meltedbluecaterpillar, @nicoliharu, @crystallizsch ☆

The botanical gardens was home to many plants, interesting and unique. Some were breathtaking, some were bizarre, drawing people in with their appearance and scent.

Napping in the gardens Leona has seen many, none of them getting his attention. Flowers, bushes, trees. None of them could compare to you, to your smile, to your eyes.

He cracks an eye open when he hears you enter, familiar with the sound of your footsteps. He'll go back to sleep later, after he admires the scenery for a bit. You always were his favorite sight ♡

Ruggie Bucchi

☆ For @midnightmah07, @nicoliharu ☆

Ruggie's a thief, and he'll take whatever he can get from you.

Your attention, your laughter, your smile. He wants it all, and all for himself. So he'll tease you, taking something small while you're unaware. It guarantees he can see you again, talking and laughing as he teases you once more.

It's only fair, after all. You already stole his heart. So let him steal yours too, alright? ♡

Jack Howl

☆ For @skriblee-ksk ☆

Comfort, safety, piece of mind. His feelings for you feel too much at times, wishing to take care of you however he can.

To protect you, and that smile he adores. He doesn't even notice at first how you do the same for him, looking out for him and caring for his safety.

He's supposed to protect you, yet here you are, protecting him in turn. He can't help but smile at the thought, knowing you had each other's backs. You can rely on him, just like he can rely on you. His amazing partner, his one and only. The only love for him ♡

Jamil Viper

☆ For @crystallizsch, @midnightmah07, @cheerleaderman, @0honeybones0 ☆

You don't need an excuse to dance, no party or music needed. Dancing comes naturally to you and Jamil, the motions, the laughter. The looks, the mutual smiles.

Your dance was cautious and slow at first, Jamil keeping his distance. Over time the dance changed, each of you moving closer, your hands joining together.

Your dance isn't perfect, filled with bumps and missteps. Yet, it was perfect for you, moving alongside Jamil with a laugh. He hopes this dance will never end ♡

Rook Hunt

☆ For @offorestsongs ☆

There were many beautiful things in the world, many that he's seen. None of them can compare to you, to the beauty that you have, to the love that you've shown him.

Watching from afar isn't enough, and photographs can only capture so much. Your personality, your heart, that voice that rings in his ears and drifts him to sleep. The eyes he dreams of, the smile he longs to wake up to.

He'll write you as many letters as it takes, as many poems, as many songs. Until you feel just as beautiful as he sees you, until you know just how loved and adored you are ♡

Vil Schoenheit

☆ For @offorestsongs, @ladyzsgolla ☆

We all have bad days, days that don't seem to go right and leave us feeling down. Vil understands, he experiences them too. Days he's unhappy with his appearance, with his acting, with the work that he's done. Feeling like it's not enough.

He gives you a space to relax, a space to breathe, alone in the comfort of his room. He takes the time to remove your makeup (if you wear it), drying your tears as he soothes you with his words.

He touches you gently, as if you were fragile, precious. Running his hand's through your hair, giving you something more comfortable to wear. He gets you to bed, holding you close in his arms.

You've done the same for him in the past, helping him remove his makeup, taking down his hair. The comfort you would provide him after a frustrating day meant so much to him, just like the hold you had on his heart. It's the least he could do, wanting you to know just how much he loves you. Just how much he cares ♡

Idia Shroud

☆ For @cheerleaderman (and myself lol ♡) ☆

Late night messages, gaming sessions, voice calls that last for hours. You were different than he expected, having similar interests and hobbies. He wasn't sure when the shift happened, when your friendship became so much more.

He doesn't want to call it love (he can't, there's no way), but he can't ignore what he feels either. The smile he gets when there's a new message from you, how his heart races when you remember a show he likes or a reference he made.

When did he start ordering merch from a game he doesn't play, knowing you would like it? When did he start buying snacks you like, hoping you'd stop by?

He won't say he's in love (he can't), but he might be... falling for you (even if it scares him to think about) ♡

Lilia Vanrouge

☆ For @ladyzsgolla ☆

The years pass by, yet Lilia remains, watching as people come and go. The days were too short, the months not long enough, Silver growing before him.

He watches his sons, teenagers now, making friends and considering their futures. It makes him think of his future, of the time he has left, how short the years seemed to be.

Then he met you, with your playful words and teasing banter. The surprise in your eyes as he appears in front of you, how your face lights up as you laugh at his mischief.

He feels younger, like a boy with a crush, his heart racing as he watches you fondly. How long has it been since he felt this way? He couldn't recall, moving the thought to the back of his mind.

For now, he wants to enjoy every moment he can with you. For however long time will allow ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

1K notes · View notes

lewisvinga · 7 months

Text

the designer vs. the model | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary; fans begged and begged fashion icon and designer y/n to help charles out, luckily for him, she gave him the girlfriend effect

fc; jennie kim

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

note; requested !

masterlist !

liked by yourbestfriend, and others

yourusername: cannes film festival; the design, before & after 🎀

username: AN ICON

username: i knew she’d eat this gala up😩

yourbestfriend: my beautiful talented best friendddd😻

yourusername: hehe love u xx

username: her talent needs to be studied

username: pls style charles_leclerc he needs help

username: studying fashion to be just like y/n!

username: y/n we need your talent on the f1 grid specifically in the ferrari garage specifically charles_leclerc

username: heyyy girl, u gonna need to share your styling talents w a certain monegasque 😁

username: oh i just know she’d give charles the girlfriend effect

username: STYLE CHARLES_LECLERC

yourusername: whaaaa ö

liked by pierregasly, yourusername, and others !

charles_leclerc: new profession: photographer

username: omg y/n liked!

username: we bullied him into only wearing sweatshirts and jeans omg 😭😭

username: thats what he gets for his horrendous style…

pierregasly: imagine you as a photographer 😂

charles_leclerc: hey! i’m not too bad!

username: yourusername pls help this poor man , he has very poor fashion taste🙏

username: ok this fit isn’t too bad, plain! but not that bad!

username: yourusername mother pls help father out

yourusername: i think the people want me to style you , haha !

charles_leclerc: my style can’t be that bad, no?

yourusername: it could use some improvement…

charles_leclerc: well, i’m open for suggestions!

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; don’t worry ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna make sure he has a good wardrobe 😇!] [caption 2; designing n making some new pieces for his closet 😵‍💫]

charles_leclerc uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; the forced smile after i showed her some outfit ideas…] [caption 2; her real smile after i got her a latte for being patient w my poor fashion skills😁

liked by yourusername, carlossainz5, and others !

charles_leclerc: photo dump , but do you notice any new fashion improvements ? 😁

yourusername: much better than those horrendous blue and white pants …

charles_leclerc: they weren’t that bad

yourusername: cha…… they were horrid

username: wait…. he fr looks good

yourusername: he’s got a pretty face but thats just enhanced by the better fashion sense!😁

charles_leclerc: u think i’m pretty?😊

yourusername: ur my prettiest model

username: OH HELLO

username: hes 100% dating y/n bc thats an improvement from that horrid blue outfit 😭

username: muy buenos días y que vivan los hombres 😍 [very good morning and long live men]

username: his style is improving, everyone cheered!

username: the sigh of relief i just let out

carlossainz55: mate, you have everyone relieved from your new fashion improvements 🤣

charles_leclerc: and i can see why after i looked at my old outfits…

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: the designer vs. the model 🌸

tagged; charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: where would my closet be w/o you, chérie…

yourusername: unfortunately, seen in the public

charles_leclerc: my favorite and the most prettiest designer ❤️

yourusername: you’re my favorite and the most prettiest model 💞

username: oh my goodness gracious me

username: STOPP THEYRE SO CUTE😖😖

username: she got him a good pair of glasses thank u queen y/n

username: them at the basketball game together 🥹🥹🥹🥹

username: we’re abt to get the best charles outfits thank u y/n😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏

yourbestfriend: watch your back sharl she was mine first

charles_leclerc: womp womp she’s mine now

yourusername: ladies, ladies, there’s enough of me to go around ( btw yourbestfriend come over asap i need to do another fitting on u )

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #formula one social media au #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc scenarios #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine

2K notes · View notes

simpxxstan · 2 months

Text

best friend's older brother mingyu

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the members' headcanons in the event too as i post them through this month!

warnings: SMUT 18+ NSFW, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT making out, dry humping, untouched orgasm, mingyu is a slight perv

thinking about best friend's older brother!mingyu who you haven't seen in seven years

ever since he'd been selected into the under-19 basketball team, and then the national basketball team for south korea, you'd only ever see him on the tv screen in his games and interviews. he hasn't come back home in ages and has probably forgotten all about you.

that does not, however, mean that you have forgotten about him. you've watched all of his matches, kept track of his records, and following him like his #1 fan. you are his #1 fan, you think. you keep a scrapbook with all of his achievements and photographs and every little symbol of him. you're perfectly content with loving him in secret, in the depths of your heart. the ideal man, the hypothetically perfect match, the epitome of perfection.

his sister does not know about your not so little crush. she's aware that you liked him once or twice in school days. but she's dismissed it because you haven't seen him in ages, how can one have a crush on someone they haven't met in years?

oh but you can. it's a wild pining, that blooms into warmth every once in a while, when you open your scrapbook each night, when you watch him play on the tv. and as each day passes, instead of your desire for him decreasing, it seems to be rapidly rising.

for, if fifteen year old mingyu had been taller than his entire class and a certified visual, twenty-two year old mingyu is an absolute god. it's positively worse for you because unlike others, who treat mingyu as a celebrity crush, you know him. you remember what his touch feels like, you remember what his scent is like, you remember what his gaze feels like. you remember how nervous he made you every time he talked to you. you remember how broad his back had been even as an adolescent. you remember how raspy his morning voice would be freshly after he had hit puberty. you remember how kind he used to be to you, because you were sister's best friend. so, unlike the others, your fantasies are based on real things and not just intangible imagination.

thinking about best friend's older brother!mingyu who retires from his basketball career after winning the gold medal at the olympics

he returns to his hometown, a cherished celebrity, because he wants to go back to his normal life. he's seen how some of his most respected seniors got dismissed as soon as they could be replaced by young talent, and mingyu wants to retire while he's still remembered as the golden star of korea. so he retires at the helm of his career, a hero.

and while he will miss the team, he won't be missing the pressure that came along with it. he'd rather become an engineer like he'd always wanted to and live a steady life ahead.

but when he returns, he sees you. after seven years. standing next to his sister at his home, where there are a ton of unfamiliar faces, all here to get selfies with the celebrity.

"who's that?" his sister barks out a laugh, "you don't recognise y/n? you idiot!" y/n? fuck him for not realising you've grown up too. fuck him for not remembering how pretty your eyes had been underneath the thick glasses you'd worn since childhood.

"how could i? i saw you last when i was, fifteen?" "yeah. and i was twelve." "nice to see you're still my sister's best friend." "nice to see you back home. congrats on the win, though." mingyu smiles. you smile too. fuck. you have dimples. where did the nerdy little girl with braids and freckles go?

thinking about best friend's older brother!mingyu who joins your college, majoring in aerospace engineering, which is coincidentally also your major

he sits next to you. it's your first day in class and mingyu's joining three years late but no one really minds. everyone is too busy fawning over him. look at his arms. look at his smile. look at his long hair.

"why are you sitting here? there's plenty of place for you to sit." "i'd rather sit next to a familiar face. why, do you want me gone?" "no but you're distracting." he leans in closer, leaving nearly no space between your seats. "distracting?" "yes. if you haven't noticed, there are like a dozen cameras pointed at you right now, and a dozen more eyes. not to mention that everyone wants to sit next to you, so you choosing to sit next to me ruins my chances of making friends with others." your glare is stern, and mingyu can't help the way his heart races when you look at him like that from above your glasses.

"i'm shier than you think. i'm here to escape the attention too." you sigh, "i don't remember you to be like this." i don't either, mingyu wants to say. from your height difference, he can see a bit of your cleavage and he almost drools. "people change, y/n-ah." you turn your face away as the professor comes in. "well, please focus in class then. otherwise i won't really like you sitting next to me, no matter what your excuse is."

thinking about best friend's older brother!mingyu who begins to rely on you totally in college

from sitting next to you in class, to sitting next to you and his sister during lunch, he's become a permanent feature in your periphery nowadays. and you're not sure you can take it any longer. because fuck your memory had served you wrong.

mingyu still smells like that, his voice is still like that, but he's grown at least three sizes bigger, and he just doesn't fit in the small class seats. his arm is nearly always on your desk, especially because he is left-handed. you always sit on one end of your seat to ensure mingyu and your legs aren't constantly touching. and it doesn't help that he laughs at even your smallest jokes because he always, always ends up slapping your thighs or arms during his laughter. frankly, every day in class is torture.

it doesn't help that mingyu now hangs out a lot more with you and his sister. so if you're doing homework in the library, mingyu tags along. if you're gossiping in her bedroom, somehow mingyu's also there, although he's engrossed on his phone. eventually, you stop becoming conscious of his presence, and stop censoring your conversations. it's not easy, but not impossible.

mingyu eventually invites himself over to your house for a study session before the exams. it's just the two of you, because your best friend is studying with her own group of classmates who have the same major as her. it's safe to say, it's a completely useless session for you because you get no studying done.

mingyu is literally in your personal space throughout the evening. he may be sitting opposite to you, but somehow his knees knock against yours under the table, his long hands stretch across the table to take the highlighter you're using from your hands, and he leans right into your face on the pretext of listening to what you're explaining. finally you can't take his attention on you any longer, and you take too many bathroom breaks to calm your racing heart.

thinking about best friend's older brother!mingyu who is a part of the varsity basketball team

he may be a freshman, but he's still the captain because his skills are undoubtedly the best among the lot. and while he has retired from the national team, he still loves the sport enough to be a part of the college team.

of course, he wins the inter-college basketball varsity cup, and the entire college is roaring and cheering for him. mingyu knows you're somewhere in the stadium- he'd spotted you right before his final match-winning shot, but now he can't see you at all.

using this as a means to escape the attention of cameras and other people, he runs through the corridors to find you sitting in a classroom, empty because everyone's at the stadium in the grounds to watch the match. "didn't you watch the match?" his voice makes you turn around, slightly jerking at the sudden voice. "of course i did. i knew you would win."

you look heavenly right now. not that you don't all the other times, but especially today because you're wearing the jersey he used to wear for the national team. he knows a hundred other girls were wearing it too in the stadium, but they were all copies. this is the original- he knows because his sister has told him that she's given it to you. and while it's loose on your body, there's crazy rush of arousal running through his veins right now as he sees his name written all over your back: number 9, mingyu.

"then why are you hiding here? i was taking out my sis for lunch afterwards. my treat. she'll be happy if you come along." i will be too, but he doesn't say it.

"no i- i have some revision to do. the viva's day after tomorrow, and i know i-" you stand up to face him, but your words fail you when he takes three steps closer towards you until his entire figure towers over you. "or are you just avoiding me?" he can see the effect he's having on you, the way your skin gets redder with blush and the way you keep averting his eyes. it makes the adrenaline rush quicker and his braveness increase. he's high from the victory and from playing his beloved sport after so long, so he's not averse to taking a few risks right now that he would not take any other day. so he leans in closer to you, until he can smell your perfume.

"why would i avoid you? and why are you here? shouldn't you be celebrating with your team?" "i wanted to see you." "don't lie to me for no reason, please." mingyu huffs, and pauses before replying. he takes in a deep breath, inhaling your delicious scent again, before he replies. "i'm not lying. why don't you believe me? is it so imposs-""not impossible. just, i don't know. irrational. doesn't make sense. look i know you may feel shy but i'd think you're used to this kind of attention. in fact, i always thought you rejoice in this attention."

you're right. you're so right, because any other day, and he knows he would be out there with his team, hollering and celebrating the win. but right now, he can't think of anyone but you. even on the field, from the moment he spotted you in the stands, he couldn't think of anything but how he wants to play for you. win for you. impress you. so that you have more reasons to like him. more notes to add in your-

"i saw your scrapbook." he sees the way your eyes dilate. "when?" "when i went to your house." "you fucking snoop-" "was that all a lie?" "min-" "i need to know, i need to know. i need to know because i can't think of anything else. i need to know because i don't want anything else from my life. i need to know."

"no!" you finally look up at him, cornered against the desk because he's caved you totally. "it's true. all of it. so what? will you laugh at me for it?" at that, mingyu's confidence falters for the first time. "laugh? why would i l- y/n, what are you saying?" "i know what you're doing. all this smooth talking, all your attention, you're just playing me along. and i won't be played along, mingyu."

"fuck, is that- is that what you've been thinking all along? fuck, no wonder you're avoiding me." he mutters under his breath, but he can see the confusion in your face too. "what do you mean, mingyu?" he doesn't want to answer, because he knows he will fuck up the words. so he just says, "stop me if you don't want this."

and he leans in and kisses you. it's a messy kiss from the first moment, because he's moving too fast and you're moving too slow in your shock. he pulls back after a second, his eyes glazed. "talk to me, y/n. tell me somethin-" "kiss me again, mingyu. kiss me like you mean it."

so he does. your tongues clashing and you moan when his hands wrap around your hips. spurred on by your sounds, he picks you up from the desk in one go. you squirm in his grip, wrapping your hands around his neck, clinging on to him as you float in air for a second. but you don't break the kiss. he holds on to you like dear life, as he turns around and sits on the desk himself, pulling you on to his lap. he carefully pulls away from the kiss for a breath and leans against the wall.

mingyu drags you closer to him, your legs folding around him and- "fuck, gyu- you- you're hard?" he hisses when you grind your body against him. "you're so hard from some kissing?" there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and for some reason, it's turning him on even more. but then his grip tightens on your hips as he pulls you to grind over him faster, while kissing you desperately.

your hands get lost in gyu's soft, long hair. mingyu's hands trail along your bare thighs under the skirt, and when he touches the hem of your panties, he feels from over your panties just how wet you've become, and he moans from the sticky feeling. "don't stop, gyu," you're whispering, and he doesn't. he sees you throw your head back, as you crave the friction and keep grinding against his crotch. the sweat from mingyu's body has trailed onto you, and he finds droplets of sweat running down your neck into your cleavage. he bucks his hips up into you at the sight, and you hold on to his shoulders to grind on him faster.

"can you come like this, baby? i can- i'm going to, if you keep moving your h-hips like-fuck!" and he does. kim mingyu, star of the generation, national basketball champion, icon of the college, comes right in his pants as you ride him and kiss him, chasing your own high. he doesn't stop you, although the humping is pushing him to overstimulation, but he keeps biting your lips and your neck the way you seem to like it, and soon you pull off his lips with a scream, your entire body trembles, and he can see the way your thighs quiver and then go still.

"that was so hot, baby." mingyu says after a minute of the two of you just looking at each other, coming down from your highs. "it was so risky- what were we thinking!" he laughs as he sees the shyness kick in after all this time, "don't go all innocent on me, love. now, do you want to take this home, or do you want me to keep kissing you here, my pants wet with my own cum like a teenager?"

and then, you giggle. the prettiest, fucking giggle ever in the world. for all your brisk attitude, you go soft over him at this moment and hug him, pulling him to your chest. but he's so wrong if he thinks you're talking soft, because he then hears you whispering in his ear, your breath hot against his earlobe, "i want to go home and ride you properly, gyu. will you let me?"

#simpxxstan #simpxxstan's 550 followers celebration event #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt #svt x reader #seventeen x you #svt smut #mingyu headcanons #svt headcanons #svt mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu fanfic #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader

1K notes · View notes

lyvhie · 1 month

Text

— perv!dreamies headcanons

nct dream x fem!reader (18+ mdni) a/n: guys is that a hc or a scenario helppp. anywaysss, that's for all of you cuties who filled my asks with perv!dreamies requests after i reblogged a haechan's post about that BUT I'M JUST A READER I'M NOT GOOD AT WRITING THIS THING SO SO SO SO PLEASE BE KIND THAT ONE WAS HAAARDDD!!! and sorry for the recent inactivity, i'm kinda having a life crisis again haha... 😓 cw: perv behavior ofc, voyeurism, masturbation, coercion (chenle), kinda somnophilia i guess (renjun), panty stealing (& lmk if i forgot some!)

for many reasons, you were CHENLE's favorite maid. you were an exemplary employee. not only were you punctual, attentive, and skilled in your work, but you also showed a level of obedience that was unmatched by the other maids.

he took notice of it almost immediately. whatever he said or asked, you would always respond like a perfectly trained dog. no matter how trivial or senseless the task, you would always comply without question. you never showed any signs of frustration or hesitation, even when he was intentionally demanding or unreasonable. it was almost uncanny how you would immediately drop whatever you were doing in order to fulfill his every command, no matter how demeaning or time-consuming.

chenle soon discovered the reason behind your obedience. it was a simple explanation – you desperately needed that job. your family's mounting debts hung over your head, leaving you with no choice but to cling fiercely to your only source of money. then, he decided to push your limits just for his own entertainment. he would order you to stand in the corner facing the wall for an hour without moving, rearrange his library alphabetically, dust the ceiling, even though there's no visible dirt or dust.

indeed, you never resisted or questioned any of his demands; you were the epitome of obedience. he ceased his mean streak and shifted his focus to a far more interesting activity: your uniform. he imagined you wearing a much sexier gown, the skirt barely reaching mid-thigh, complemented by a deep neckline that would reveal more of your cleavage.

and chenle was completely right. he loved the sight of you climbing steps with a duster in hand, cleaning a spot that was conveniently out of reach. with your new, skimpier attire, it allowed him a perfect view of your panties. every time you bent over, he couldn't resist sneaking a glimpse of your chest or your ass.

however, that entertainment eventually lost its luster; he craved more than just watching you. it was then that he gently pressed your back against the wall and ground his body against yours, the bulge on his pants rubbing your thighs, peppering kisses along your neck.

you weren't particularly welcoming (that thing of playing hard to get), but he presented you with a choice: you could be a good girl and let him have his fun, and in return, he would even give you a raise; or he could fire you without hesitation.

needless to say what you chose.

your close friend, JAEMIN, who happened to be a talented photographer, had always held you in high regard. since the beginning, he had "admired and respected your unique presence", as he said, seeing you as his primary source of inspiration and even his muse. whenever he approached you with the request to be his model for his photography sessions, he didn't have to work hard to convince you, knowing well that your nature as a people pleaser made it near impossible for you to say no.

initially, the photography sessions appeared normal. you felt a bit out of place, uncertain about what to do with your body and how to pose naturally. you were somewhat stiff, unsure of how to act. jaemin, however, noticed your discomfort and stepped in to help. he reassured you to relax and simply be yourself, advising you not to overthink. from time to time, he gently guided you into various poses, giving constructive feedback to help you loosen up. and it worked, you found yourself getting more relaxed and even feeling proud of yourself as he showered you with compliments.

once jaemin noticed you were becoming more at ease in front of the camera, a mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes. over time, the clothing options for your photoshoots grew increasingly provocative and sensual.

low-cut dresses and revealing shirts highlighted your cleavage, while miniskirts and tiny shorts barely concealed your underwear. the transition from fully clothed to almost baring it all happened so gradually and naturally that you scarcely noticed. the entire process was efficient and seamless, and by the time you realized it, you were left in your lingerie — that he picked personally —, not having fully grasped the incremental removal of your clothes.

jaemin couldn't believe his luck during each shoot. the images he captured of you had inadvertently become fodder for his… private pleasure. the provocative poses he carefully orchestrated provided him with a treasure trove of material to fuel his fantasies. whether it was admiring your form or imagining scenarios involving you, the photos served his purpose well.

he found himself losing count of the numerous times he'd jerked off to images of you, his restraint wearing thin. the proximity and yet the distance from you that he endured at each shoot became increasingly unbearable. the need to feel your touch, to physically be with you, had reached a breaking point. his thoughts filled with the sweet sounds he longed to draw from your lips, and he realized the urgent necessity to move beyond mere pictures and experience the real thing.

then, the shoots took a drastic turn once the sessions started to delve into a more… intimate territory. now, you posed fully exposed, completely naked, bared before the camera like a blank canvas. you couldn't quite understand how he had managed to persuade you to willingly embrace nudity, considering it was something you'd never thought you could do in your life. however, his prowess with words coupled with your own tendency to give in to them had ultimately led you down this path.

as always, jaemin relished these moments of freedom to touch you, his deft hands roaming over your body with the pretext of adjusting your poses. you, in your shyness, acquiesced to his actions without complaint, allowing him to do as he pleased under the guise of artistic direction.

he would tenderly stroke your thighs, gently spreading them apart, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his eyes feasted on the sight before him, his fingertips brushing against your cunt ever so slightly, eliciting a surprised gasp from your mouth. he would say some bullshit about creating the right atmosphere, a means to help you fully immerse yourself in the art or whatever, while his actions spoke louder than his words.

you didn't even know exactly what to do or think when, suddenly, his warm tongue dove into your pussy. you instinctively attempted to close your legs, only to be held in place by jaemin's sturdy arms, which firmly kept you motionless. he eagerly and desperately lavied your sensitive flesh with his mouth, making you feel like his favorite meal that he couldn't get enough of, as if he had spent days starving and you were the first thing he could lay his hands on.

you were unaware of it, but jaemin had started recording the session since the very beginning. he seemed less interested in still photos, as he carefully recorded every moment — the soft gasps and subtle moans that escaped your lips, the expression of pleasure and wonder that crossed your face. he knew he would have plenty more material to enjoy in the days to come, once this session was done and, if he was even more lucky, you would become his favorite particular porn star.

you know, JISUNG is not intentionally like that, it's just that he becomes uncontrollable when he's around you. you're his first girlfriend, and often, he wonders how he got so lucky to land a hottie like you, because you're the girl he's always dreamed of having.

being his first relationship, he's still learning how to navigate things and isn't quite sure how to express his desires. since it's still early in the relationship, he hesitates to speak up about his wants and doesn't think the time is right yet. as a result, his mind often drifts to imagining... certain scenarios, even during the most innocent of interactions with you.

are you eating ice cream? he can't help but imagine how cute you would look with your soft lips wrapped around his cock as he fucks your throat and watches your eyes fill up with tears. tying your hair to do household chores? you would look so good with his fingers tangled in your locks as he pounded you from behind against the kitchen counter, pressing your face on the cool surface as he listen to your moans. do you need a shoulder massage? he can't help but notice how his large hand can easily encircle your neck, thinking about how this is such a perfect spot to hold onto when he's inside you and how good it will feel.

sigh… at the end of the day, the only thing he ends up fucking is his own fist. and that's exactly what he was doing now, but this time it was different, because you were right there beside him, peacefully sleeping in his bed, making it the first time you stayed over. he was happy because he could finally cuddle and hold you throughout the whole night.

but there was also a problem because he could finally cuddle and hold you throughout the whole night. as soon he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, his hormones were already stirring. the moment you snuggled against him, he could feel his boxers getting too tight for comfort, your ass pressing against his growing bulge in a way that was just too good.

he was both grateful and a bit frustrated that you were already asleep. he wondered what would happen if you were to notice his struggles, but he was the only one who could find relief at the moment. that's what led him to the situation he was in now, secretly-not-so-secretly touching himself right next to you while admiring your tiny, thin pajamas that served as such a nice visual material for him.

the clothes in question was a pair of thin, soft fabric shorts combined with a spaghetti strap top. the shorts were short and snug, leaving very little to the imagination. the thin material seemed almost translucent in certain lights, barely concealing what was underneath. the spaghetti strap top revealed just the right amount of shoulder and cleavage, adding to the overall alluring effect.

he wanted to touch you so bad, to taste you, to feel you around him. he would give anything to fill you up with his cum, stuff you until it was leaking out of your tight pussy, just for him to push it inside you again and make you take everything he has to give you. he arched back, head thrown back in ecstasy, his hips bucking upward as he climaxed and, before he could think properly, he was already shooting ropes of cum all over your sleeping face.

he knew he just did something weird and wrong, and he felt guilty, but… you looked incredibly hot and cute all at once like that. he almost became hard again, but then you started to stir, and he immediately froze. if you woke up right now, how on earth would he explain what he had just done?

he was on the verge of panicking when he noticed you had stopped stirring, still sleeping peacefully. he let out a sigh of relief, but then he quickly remembered a new problem: how exactly was he supposed to clean you up now?

HAECHAN was glad and thankful that god made you dumb, otherwise he would never get the chance to spend so much time with you and be alone in your room so many times, studying together for your exams.

when you approached him for assistance in raising your grades, haechan thought he was dreaming. he pinched himself to make sure it was real, and without thinking twice he accepted your request.

haechan never thought he'd ever be in a girl's house, let alone your room. it was such a pleasant surprise to be there, surrounded by you. every time he was in your room, it almost felt like a paradise to him.

he loved being near you, so close that your scent would fill his nostrils. your shampoo, your perfume, and the strawberry flavored lip gloss on your lips… it was too much for him to bear. he couldn’t keep his gaze away from your cleavage, imagining what it would feel like to bury his face in your chest. or to be between your thighs, he didn't even need to eat you out (though it would be awesome too), just sniffing your sex scent would be enough... damn, he was hard again.

haechan almost missed your words, as you mentioned it was getting late and you had to go home, since you decided to study at haechan's place that day. despite his disappointment that you had to leave so soon, he was also glad, as now he could finally relieve the tightness in his pants.

he quickly opened his closet and grabbed a pair of your panties, the most recent one he had obtained. ever since the study sessions had begun, he made a habit of taking a pair of your panties from either your drawer or laundry basket whenever you left him alone in your room.

haechan wasted no time in pulling down his pants and releasing his throbbing cock, leaking with pre-cum. he rubbed the fluid all over his length as he brought the underwear to his face, pressing it against his nose and breathing deeply, inhaling your delicious scent. a soft moan escaping his lips as his hand began moving in a steady pace, while he slowly and intently breathed in your essence.

his hand moved with an ever-increasing speed, his mind filled with thoughts about you. he was so lost in the moment that he didn't even notice when you suddenly appeared in the doorway of his room, stunned by the view. you didn't mean to catch him like that, you had returned to pick up your keys, which you had left in the living room. however, you heard haechan calling (moaning) out to you from his room and...

he was caught completely off guard when you called his name, and his eyes widened in shock when he realized you were there. as much as he was startled and embarrassed, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. instead, his motions became even more urgent, the expression of slight disgust on your face was an unexpected turn-on to him. being watched like this made him peak faster than usual, bringing your panties to his cock, finishing on it as he always do, coating the cloth with his cum.

well, he can't even tell you that this isn't what it looks like.

as your best friend, RENJUN, always had your best interests at heart. you grew up with very strict parents who controlled your life and limited your experiences, leaving you as a naive adult. you only achieved your freedom when you moved out and shared an apartment with your dear friend, who was the first person to encourage you to leave and offered you unconditional support. he promised to stay by your side no matter what, and the two of you intended to stick together until you could afford separate places of your own.

he wasn't lying about being a safety net for you, just as he always had. he did want to protect you from your crazy parents, but that wasn't the only reason he wanted you to move in with him. now it was just you and him. all alone. the situation seemed like a dream come true for him, and he found himself clinging to you more than ever, enjoying the increased amount of time you spent together.

renjun had always been a touchy person, particularly with you. however, since you started to live together, it seems his touches have increased tenfold, taking advantage of your innocent view.

he seemed way more comfortable touching different parts of your body, always finding some excuse that you believed, as you trusted him and couldn't see any ill intent in his behavior. his hands would caress your belly, occasionally making their way to your ass, and if he felt bold, he even groped your breasts. despite his increasingly intimate touches, you dismissed his behavior as friendly affection. it wasn't that you didn't recognize the sexual undertones in his actions, but rather that you chose not to see them that way with him. you trusted him implicitly, blinding yourself to the true nature of his behavior.

he also developed a habit of sneaking peeks at you showering or changing, making it a regular occurrence. he even went as far as entering your room while you were asleep, getting off beside you and cleaning himself with one of your panties, then he would place the cloth back on your drawer, all so he could see you wearing them when he peeked under your dress the next day, smiling proudly at the thought that you didn’t even know his cum was all over it.

it's not like he really needs to fuck you, although he would love to, but just being close to you, holding you, touching you was enough. for example, when you're cuddling while watching a movie and you fall asleep, he always uses that opportunity to slide his dick between your thighs and fuck them, carefully in not moaning too loudly to not bother your sleep. it's always a nice experience and more than he could ever ask for, but he was sure that soon you would let him bury himself deep inside your pussy, he would make it happen no matter what

MARK's gaze was fixated on the window, shifting between your house and the nearby wall clock. it was a familiar routine now — every night at 8 pm, he waited expectantly, counting down the minutes until the moment you would cross the door to your room.

mark couldn't tell if you were truly unaware of his presence or if you were intentionally putting on a show, but he had to admit that he loved it. since you moved in, this had become an habit that he couldn't break not even if he wanted to. as soon as you turned on the lights, mark's pupils widened with excitement. "finally," he thought, scooting closer to the window and settling into his cushion, his eyes locked onto your every move.

you began the familiar routine by tossing your purse onto your bed, then you took a moment to stretch and untie your hair. but this was just foreplay to the main event — mark's favorite part had begun. it was the moment when the true magic happened. he sat back, ready to take in the spectacle that was unfolding before his eyes.

as your hands lifted the hem of your shirt, a tantalizing reveal of your skin unfurled. mark could already feel his cock stirring inside his pants, his panting breaths becoming more pronounced. he observed the weariness on your face and noticed your deliberate pace. perhaps it was fatigue that slowed your movements, but he didn't mind. it gave him time to appreciate you even more.

he leaned in closer, his eyes devouring every inch of your body as you slowly removed your clothes. each moment was a delicious tease, building up the sensation within him. as soon as his eyes fell upon you in your lingerie, his pupils widened in surprise and desire. the garment was a new addition to your collection — and it was in his favorite color. he couldn't help but wonder if you had purchased it with him specifically in mind. the sight of you in that delicate lace and fabric heightened his arousal, making him ache with want.

his movements were automatic when he pulled down his pants and underwear just enough to free his aching cock, wrapping his hand around it. mark stroke his dick, his gaze remained fixated on you, refusing to move even an inch as he watched you undo the clasp of your bra. his lower lip caught between his teeth when he saw your perfect boobs jiggling softly as you moved around.

his eyes taking in the sight of your upper body, traveling down as you move your hands to reach the waistband of your panties, bending over to pull them down, giving him the chance to look at your ass and how your pretty pussy was being crushed between your thighs. he let out a low hiss through clenched teeth, his hand finding a steady rhythm as his breaths quickened, a soft moan of pleasure escaped his lips. his gaze fixed on you, his brow furrowing in desire. you were so beautiful, so gorgeous, so hot, so, so…. so everything!

it wasn't a want anymore, it was need. he needed you. he needed you so bad. he didn't even know your name, but he knew you were the one who could fulfill his desires.

he let out a disheartened whimper as you reached for your robe, the fabric concealing your lovely form and plunging the room into darkness, robbing him of the sight he yearned to behold. that was his least favorite part. he hated resorting to using his imagination, but in the absence of the real thing, he had no choice.

closing his eyes, he continued his movements, imagining how it would feel to kiss your lips, to make out with you until you gasped for breath. he thought about trailing his mouth down your body, giving your beautiful breasts the attention they so rightly deserve. he would love to have you squirming under him. he would get on his knees, wrap those gorgeous legs of yours around him and feast on you until you were shaking and screming out for more. he just knew you taste good.

he imagined how your voice would sound like when he slide deep inside you, feeling your heat envelop him like a glove. he started to buck his hips up, thrusting into his hand harder, his moans filling his room. he imagined how would it feel to have you clenching around him, how you would cry so prettily when he played with your sensitive bud until you cream his whole lenght. mark felt the familiar tightening of his balls, his entire body tensing until he finally came, smearing the white fluid all over his hand, his mouth open in a silent gasp. panting, he fell back onto the bed, his eyes still closed as he thought about how he couldn't wait for the next night.

after suffering an injury during practice, JENO found himself confined to a hospital bed for a few days of observation. at first, the prospect of spending time in a hospital seemed like the epitome of boredom and jeno was convinced it was the worst thing that could happen to him at the moment. however, that all changed when he met you, his sexy nurse.

suddenly, the hospital stay didn't seem so bad after all.

jeno found himself unable to keep his eyes off you, who frequently attended to him. he noticed the the gentle sway of you hips as you walked, and his eyes couldn't help but roam up and down your form when you bent over to adjust his pillows. whenever you spoke, his mind wandered to thoughts of how your lips would feel against his own.

you were consistently and diligently attentive to his needs, always arriving promptly whenever he rang for assistance. sometimes, he even displayed childish behavior when other nurses came to attend to him, insisting that only you were capable of addressing his concerns.

it didn't escape his notice that you were a relatively new nurse, experiencing your first time on the job. this realization sparked a sly plan in his mind, as he knew you might find it challenging to turn down his requests. he was fully aware of your inexperience, making him eager to push his limits and see how far he could go while you navigated your new role. he was determined to take advantage of the power dynamic, using your hesitation to explore the boundaries of what he could ask for and get away with.

for example, he would often ask for full body massages from you, and the sensation of your delicate hands roaming all over his body would drive him absolutely wild. with unabashed confidence, he'd make sure to vocalize just how much he loved the feel of your touch, complimenting you on your skillful hands and openly expressing his desire to return the favor.

one time, he pretended that his condition was more severe than it truly was, just so that he could have you attend to him during bath time. he, once again, relished the feeling of your hands gently cleaning him from head to toe, watching your shy expression while you attempted to maintain casual conversation, your focus interrupted by the sounds of pleasure that escaped his lips uncontrollably.

one time, after pretending his condition was more severe than it truly was, he got the chance to feel the heavenly sensation of having you run your hands over his body while you washed him. it was a brief but unforgettable experience as he savored every moment of your touch. he was so hard that it was painful. he loved how your shy expression couldn't quite hide your feelings while you tried to keep a casual conversation going, yout words faltering every time a sound of pleasure escaped his lips.

he would never forget the way you looked at him with surprise, shyness, and a hint of embarrassment when he came on your hand with just a few of your innocent touches. your eyes widened slightly and a shy, awkward, subtle smile formed on your lips as you look away briefly, trying to hide your reaction.

it was almost humorous how swiftly you completed the task of bathing him after that incident, as if you were eager to finish the job and move on quickly. in the days that followed, you seemed to make a conscious effort to minimize the time you spent in his room, probably to avoid any awkward or potentially embarrassing encounters.

he couldn't help but notice your attempts to distance yourself after the incident, but he had a plan in mind to fix this: he decided that you simply needed to get used to his requests, just as you had gotten used to fulfilling the other needs he'd asked for. what's more, he was determined to have some form of sexual contact with you before he left the hospital, and he was set on making it happen.

it was indeed a perfect opportunity. he called for you late in the night, knowing you were on the night shift and there would be no disruptions. he wasted no time in making his request clear: he needed you to get him off. he almost couldn't contain his amusement at the look of wide-eyed surprise on your face, quickly dismissing your denials with a simple explanation. he told you how he didn't have the strength to do it himself, how his weakened condition made it difficult for him to take care of himself in that way, how ill he felt, and how he needed release as a man, and that it was your duty as his nurse to help him.

his heart nearly skipped a beat and he felt something like fireworks going off inside his chest when he saw you bite your lower lip and give a small nod of agreement. once again, the hospital stay didn't seem so bad after all.

#chenle smut #mark smut #jeno smut #jisung smut #haechan smut #jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct headcanon #nct x reader #mark x reader #chenle x reader #jisung x reader #jeno x reader #haechan x reader #renjun x reader #jaemin x reader

658 notes · View notes

cultven · 1 month

Note

Hello!!❤💛

Is it possible for you to do a fic where reader keeps putting cat ears and little bows on wolverines head while he's sleeping. logan is so sick of it and deadpool keeps getting blamed for it.

Until logan finds multiple pictures on readers phone😂

The Midnight Fashionista

Wolverine X Reader

Content: Roommate things, Arguing, Some Cursing, Domestic bliss, Mary Puppins, Just lots of cute fluffy and funny moments, You and Wade being best friends forever

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Very very small Wolverine/Deadpool violence

a/n: Another cute, shorter request while I work on the longer ones. I love the random domestic requests like this lol. This one-shot turned out a lot longer and admittedly better than I thought, so enjoy!

The first thing you heard bright and early in the morning was Logan shouting Wade’s name from your shared bedroom. Not in a sexual sense, but in pure rage. He burst through the door, finding the two of you perched at the breakfast table. “I told you to stop doing this shit! Next time I’m fucking gutting you and leaving you on the street to bleed out.” Logan raged, fighting with the cat headband and barrettes tangled in his hair. The cherry on top was the two small bows on each tuff of his wolf-like hair. He was still in his pajamas, clearly just woken up.

“Sorry, beautiful, but that’s not my doing. It is a good look on you though.” Wade cooed through mouthfuls of cereal.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I don’t fucking believe you.”

“No, I’m being serious! That is a wonderful look for the Wolverine. Very cutesy.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you, you freak of nature.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

You were just sitting silently, giggling at the banter. The cute accessories were of course your doing, but you understand where Logan is so adamant Wade was the culprit, it does seem like something he would do. You weren’t typically one for practical jokes like that, especially not on grumpy people like Logan, but you just couldn’t resist how cute he looked! The light pink bows and cute little cat ears paired with Logan’s beautiful relaxed sleeping face was just the cutest sight in the world. Your heart almost exploded the first time! Over the past week, your camera roll became filled to the brim with different poses and angles of Logan adorned in the accessories. Ever since saving the timeline, Logan has slept like a rock so you’ve thankfully gotten away with everything so far, but of course, the evidence is there when he wakes up. You know you could just take the accessories off when you’re done with your photo ops, but gauging his reaction to the mysterious bows is just so much funnier. Plus, the blame was always put on Wade anyway.

Seeing as he wasn’t going to get an apology from Wade, Logan just grumbled patting your head as he walked past you, grabbing a protein bar, and heading back to the bedroom. You only smile innocently at the man before he’s out of sight, Wade turning to you suspiciously. “I know how fashionable Blind Al is with her matching tracksuits every goddamn day, but the bows are you, right?” You only smirk at Wade before taking a sip of tea.

“Maybe.” You drag out the word playfully, watching Wade’s face perk up.

“You backstabber! Throwing me under the bus every time. You truly are awful to me, peanut.” Wade feigns a look of betrayal, pouting his lip.

“Hey! I never threw you under, Logan just assumed it was you because of your reputation. You did that to yourself, Wadey.” You pat his arm, standing up to grab yourself some more tea.

“What’s gonna happen when I tell our hot-headed friend who is really to blame.” Wade rests his head on his fist, taunting you.

“He probably wouldn’t believe you either way, but if you did,” You whip your phone out of your pocket, waving it in front of Wade’s confused face. “I wouldn’t share my collection of lovely photographs.” You gingerly put the phone back into your pocket before Wade could snatch the device out of your hands.

“Oh em gee! No way you got those.” Wade’s eyes were practically popping out of his head, desperate for even a glance at one of the ridiculous photos on your phone. “I bet he looks like one of those really depressing kittens that people feel bad for!” Just as you were about to give him a taste of your photography skills Logan shuffles into the room, now decent for the day with casual clothes on.

“Y/N are you ready?” Logan was leaning in the doorway.

“Oh yeah, coming!” You reply, trotting over to the man offering him a sweet smile, one which he returned. It was Sunday which meant it was an errand day. Since Wade was a child when it came to his food selections, you and Logan were always the ones going grocery shopping instead. It was hard to explain to Wade that people cannot only live off of snacks and indulgent food. Well, maybe he and Logan could due to their powers, but you and Blind Al certainly couldn’t. You never minded going shopping anyway, especially not with Logan’s company. You enjoyed the domestic bliss of running errands together. “Wade, we'll be back in a few hours. We’re going clothes shopping first, lunch, and then food shopping. Don’t forget to take Mary Puppins out!”

“Aww, what!” Wade groaned, looking over at the two of you. “Y/N quickly text it to me before you leave, please!” He whined like a child, his hands making a grabbing motion out to you.

“Text what?” Logan questioned, raising an eyebrow while looking between the two of you.

“Just some stupid memes we saw earlier, Lo.” You wrapped your right arm around his left. “He’ll be ok without it. I’ll show you later, Wade.” You wink at the man throwing a fit, which makes him instantly pop up as if nothing had happened.

“ ‘kay!” You just shook your head and led Logan out the door. After a few hours of nice conversation and peaceful shopping, you and Logan carried the bags up the stairs to the apartment. Well, Logan held the majority of the bags insisting on being a gentleman, leaving you with one small bag to carry. Unlocking the door you find Wade rotting away on the couch, one hand petting Mary Puppins, the other scooping handfuls of popcorn into his mouth.

“Hmmhmm!” He excitedly exclaimed at your arrival, not making any eligible words. You only waved to him with a smile as Logan just completely ignored the man, beginning to unpack the bags in the kitchen.

You kiss Logan’s cheek, “You can go take your shower if you want, I can do the unpacking.” His head craned down to look at you, a relaxed expression on his face.

“You sure, bub?” You simply nodded with a smile, earning an appreciative look from Logan. He rubbed your arm, a loving gesture, before walking towards the bathroom. Once you were certain he was out of earshot, you made a ‘pst!’ noise over to Wade. His head shot over to your direction as you gestured for him to go over to you.

“Look what I found at the store while Logan wasn’t looking.” You whisper, snickering as Wade takes the small objects in with all of their glory.

“Holy shit! He’s going to look like a Barbie puked all over him!” He quietly celebrated, looking at your haul. There was a set of overly pink, sparkly cat ears, small butterfly barrettes that were also hot pink, and various other hair accessories for you to mess with your boyfriend with. “Oh also, don’t forget to show me those pictures, peanut! You’ve been edging me with that all day.”

“Ew, let's not phrase it like that Wade, but here.” You unlock your phone and begin to scroll through the dozens of photos you’ve accumulated over the past week. Some blurry, some surprisingly high quality. You two were gawking over the photos, too enthralled in their cuteness, to realize that Logan had reappeared in the room, right behind you.

“Hey Y/N, where’s that new shampoo you bought?” Noticing your lack of reaction or even acknowledgement of his existence he walks over to see what you pair were looking at. He immediately becomes baffled seeing the myriad of accessories and new ears laid out on the counter. What surprised him most of all was the collection of photos you were proudly displaying to your roommate.

“What the fuck!?” Logan yelled, making the two of you jump.

“I think I just peed my pants.” Wade warily stated, before turning around and waving. “Hey, big guy.” Claws can be heard penetrating through skin, leaving Wade to just yelp in surprise.

“Logan! We’ve talked about this, no blood on the floor!” You scolded before he turned to you, immediately shutting up.

“So it was you!” Logan exclaimed, not so much yelling in rage rather than embarrassment. His claws were now gone, not wanting to hurt you.

“Well yes, but you have to admit you look super adorable in these photos!” You hold up your phone, scrolling through the many images. Logan just looks at the phone with bewildered eyes.

“Delete those!”

“But I worked so hard for them…”

“Y/N!”

You sigh in defeat, looking down at the ground. “Ok, ok… I’ll delete them.”

“Thank you.”

“If you continue letting me do it while you’re sleeping!”

“No!”

“Once a week?” You looked up at Logan with the best puppy eyes you could conjure up, pouting a little bit to play up the act. Logan only groaned, looking away from your pleading face. You were his only weakness and you knew it.

“I’ll think about it.” Timeskip to the next morning you and Wade are sitting at the table once again, Wade throwing bits and pieces of his breakfast onto the floor for Mary Puppins while you mindlessly scroll through your phone.

“Mornin’.” You heard a grumble. Looking up you capture the image of the Wolverine, still drunk with sleep, standing in the kitchen in nothing but boxer shorts and two small pink bows tied to the top of his head. As you sneakily try to raise your phone to get a good shot a hand with claws is pointed in your direction. “Remember our deal?” You only nodded with a small smile before putting your phone down and admiring the view.

“I think I should glue some bows on your abs next.”

“Don’t even think about it, bub.”

548 notes · View notes

favefandomimagines · 1 month

Text

Panic (t.o)

Summary: you were one who admired a storm’s beauty from afar, until you met Tyler.

Request: @ol-alex-lo maybe you could write something for Tyler x photograph!reader that loves tornadoes but from afar and one day Tyler convinces reader to get in the car with him.. but when the tornado hits she has a panic attack because she’s so scared and he helps her calm down?

You loved weather, especially severe weather. There was something so beautiful about a severe storm. Blizzards, wind storms, tornadoes; you loved it all. But from afar. You preferred to take your photos from a safe distance away, where you were able to take shelter when needed.

You met Tyler after he saw one of your photos in a local newspaper in Kansas. It was a photo of a giant EF-4 tornado and he was blown away, pun intended, by the sheer bravery it would take to get a photo of a storm like that.

It may have been a bit stalkerish but he asked some locals if they knew you, said you’d be at a local bar and he went to find you.

He did, explained what he did for a living but you knew who he was. You admitted to watching the live streams to find out where the picture-worthy storms were.

After that, he asked you to join the team only if you were safe and out of harm's way. You agreed and the rest was history. You and Tyler acted on your feelings for each other and had been together ever since.

Now, you were at a motel, editing your photos in the bed of Tyler’s truck when he approached and rested his arms on the side of the bed. “I have a proposition for you.” He said. “Oh no. Nothing you’ve ever said that starts with that sentence has ever ended up good.” You replied.

“Take Boone’s seat today. This storm is supposed to be mild, nothing to be concerned about. You’d get some pretty sweet pictures from inside the storm.” Tyler said. “Tyler,” You started, closing your laptop.

“I know, I know you like being away from the action but you also know I would never ask if I knew it wouldn’t be safe for you. I may be reckless when it comes to me but when it comes to you it’s different.” He explained.

You looked at him for a moment, really thinking about if you’re going to agree to this. “Alright, fine. I’ll ride in the truck today.” You finally said.

Tyler thrusted his fist in the air before leaning over the side of the bed and kissing you deeply.

The team tracked a small EF-1 in the middle of a field and you were in the truck with Tyler. “Alright, baby, are you ready?” Tyler asked you. You were clutching your camera, almost white knuckling it, as you held on to the bar above the window.

You didn’t think you would actually be this scared. Your heart was pounding, you thought it was going to burst out of your chest. As you got closer and closer to the storm, your chest felt heavy like there was a brick sitting on it.

“Tyler,” You started, your voice quieter than you thought. You got closer and closer to the tornado and you began to panic. Every single worst case scenario pops into your head. Your breathing becomes shallow and soon you couldn’t catch your breath.

“Tyler, stop!” You yelled. “What?” He laughed. “Stop the truck!” You yelled again. Tyler glanced over at you, thinking you were joking until he saw the look on your face.

Tyler slammed on the brakes, not in the path of the storm, and looked back over at you. “Y/N? Wh-What’s going on?” He asked. “I-I c-can’t breathe.” You stuttered. “Hey, hey, look at me. Y/N, look right at me. You’re okay.” He told you.

He unbuckled your harness and his and took both of your hands in his. “Breathe with me, okay? Match my breathing.” He instructed you. Your breathing started out ragged at first, but soon your breathing mimicked his.

“That’s it. You’re safe, okay? You’re safe.” He spoke to you. Once your breathing had gone back to normal, Tyler tried to talk with you about what happened. “What happened?” He asked softly. “I-I don’t know. The closer we got to the tornado, I just panicked. I started thinking of everything that could go wrong and I just, I’m sorry,” You started.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Don’t apologize. You never have to apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” Tyler said. “It’s not your fault. I thought I could do this. But maybe I’m just better at capturing the storms from afar.” You said.

Tyler squeezed your hand, comfortingly. “I’m sorry I ruined the chase.” You said. “Y/N, stop apologizing.” He laughed. “Okay, okay.” You laughed with him before he put the car back in drive.

“Let’s go back to the motel and regroup. There will be more storms to chase.” Tyler said before bringing the back of your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on it. “I love you, Y/N.” He added.

You looked at him adoringly before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek while he was driving. “I love you too, Tyler.” You replied.

#imagine #imagines #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #twisters imagine #twisters #glen powell imagine #glen powell #glen powell x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x y/n

511 notes · View notes

bengals-barnesbabe · 15 days

Text

The Girl Behind the Camera

Pair: Joe Burrow x Videographer!Reader

Descr: When The Bengals hire a new social media manager, people start to notice a certain QB coming out of his shell.

TW: mentions of sex, nudity, gossip, racism, classism, invasion of privacy, protective boyfriend!Joe.

Main Masterlist

WC: 2083

*. * ·┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

"Which of your teammates would you rather be stranded on a deserted island with for 72 hours?"

Was the question being asked on the way out from practice. From behind the black and white jerseys Joe could hear the bouts of laughter from each answer. Most of his more outgoing teammates thoroughly enjoyed walking up to the woman with the camera on a day to day basis, while others like him avoided making simple eye contact with her.

But today's Friday and Fridays are very special on this practice field. Not only do they have shorter practices but the recurring sports journalist major with a sometimes too sunny attitude, is replaced with the new silk press and brown glossy lips-wearing photographer that could stop him in the middle of the busiest highways just with her smile.

"Hey 9!" You beam as he approaches you with rosy cheeks. "Wanna hear today's question?"

I'd listen to anything coming from those pretty lips.

"Sure, whatcha got for me?" His eyes are solely focused on the way your glittery nails push back your dark brown locks and the movement of your lips rather than the content flowing from them.

He stands there motionless for a minute contemplating his answer, when in reality he just wanted to see how long you'd hold his gaze before squirming. 45 seconds is the current record.

"Joey, come on.."

25 seconds, he must look especially good today.

He smirks as your pout forms, or maybe he just likes giving you more work to do in the editing room (aka tonight at his place).

"Are you going to answer or should I shut off the camera?" A chuckle arises from his belly as you attempt to make an authoritarian stance with a smooth caramel leg jutted out and your glistening arms crossed over your chest.

Rolling your eyes at him, you start to ignore him and play around with the camera, before his voice interrupts you. "Alright, I'll answer. Only for you though."

He does his best to revert back to factory settings (aka grump mode as you like to call it) when you give him the go-ahead. "I guess, I'd take Ja'Marr. Hopefully, he doesn't get sick of me in 3 days."

You let out a cute giggle at his response recapturing his gaze from above the camera. He'd make it his life goal to keep that sound pouring from your plump lips.

So he adds to his answer. "Or I'd take my girlfriend, she loves beaches you know. She's kind of the yin to my yang." He smirks nodding to your necklace.

Flustered you try to cover your smile, before asking him a follow-up question. "Would you get on a boat to rescue her, if she somehow got trapped out at sea?"

"Of course, I would," he chuckles. "But then I'd ask where she found a boat in the first place and why she got in it when she doesn't like them either."

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

"Maybe she was just trying to find food for her quarterback boyfriend with a bottomless pit as a stomach." His entire body shakes with laughter as you smile accomplishedly behind the lens.

"That's cute, you know her or something?" You shrug, as he straightens up due to another presence approaching.

"Don't stop on my accord, you did great today J. And you Miss Thing, I can't wait to see the shots you got of my team out there." Coach Taylor praises walking past you, causing your faces to heat up.

"God, I don't know how much of this I can use." Your video voice sombers.

You watch as the orange jersey fills the frame until not even the 9 is visible. "Sounds like you have your work cut out for you. Kind of like how..." His low and teasing voice barely gets picked up on the audio. A shiver runs down your spine because you remember exactly what he said before walking out of view.

"Kind of like how you will when you get home tonight."

'And boy was he right, but not about the editing.' You think gawking at his body as he walks out of the bathroom, water dripping from his hair and shoulders down his nice pecs and delectable abs. His strong arms and toned abdomen are tinted red due to the steamy shower that's releasing vapor into the room.

"Still editing I see?" He asks teasingly as he ruffle-dries his hair with a microfiber towel. You painstakingly nod but push the laptop down and off your lap.

"It can wait." You say as your gaze drops down to the blonde happy trail that disappears underneath the towel secured around his waist. "It's not due til noon anyway."

"Good, I've been thinking about you laid out on my bed for me since we got home." A smirk curves up his lips when he notices your eyes fixated on the bulge of the fabric.

"Lucky me." Then the towel drops. Lucky me indeed.

✧ ⁺ . ° ➶ ｡˚ ✧

Eventually, the video does get edited and uploaded to social media like it's supposed to and your bosses thoroughly enjoy the impressions it brings to the organization.

You tried your best to edit out all of the parts that gave too much about your relationship away without completely taking Joe out of the video. You thought it did a great job, the final cut showed a very professional interaction between the two of you. Everyone was happy.

Until you started trending on Twitter almost 3 days later.

Something you didn't realize before becoming the Bengals' backup photographer/videographer and official social media manager was that your boyfriend rarely if ever participated in the post-practice videos. Anna, their main journalist, did mention that Joe liked to hide from cameras at practice, but you thought she was talking about paparazzi and overzealous fans. It wasn't until you went through every post-practice TikTok video that you realized that she was not kidding at all.

Currently, you are sitting wide-eyed on the couch watching a well-known YouTube gossip talk about your video and your relationship. She hadn't said the word dating yet, but by her analysis of the short clips- she was not very far from finding out.

"I think the key here is the woman behind the camera. Their conversation was short, but you could tell she could get him to say anything. And the way it's cut, oh my god. Anyone could tell that there was much more to this chat than we saw. Sadly, I couldn't find her socials, so the woman behind the camera wins this time."

You paused the video as soon as Joe's footsteps became apparent as he walked toward the area where you were sitting. "Hi, baby!" You cringe at the perky tone of your voice.

"Hi?" He says plopping down next to you and kissing your head. The lingering embarrassment makes your spine stiffen. Joe raises a brow in confusion. "Y/n, what's wrong?"

You huff and pout sinking into the couch cushions. "I kinda fucked up."

"How so?" He asks pulling your hands into his.

"Have you watched my video?" You whisper as if saying it aloud will anger the universe.

"No, but I heard it was doing well. Do you want me to pull it up?" You shake your head immediately. "What's wrong with the video?"

"You're in it." You mumble laying your head on his chest.

"Huh?"

"You hate attention, you hate cameras, and you literally hide from them when we're in public! And I put you in my video!" One of his hands lets go of yours and begins to stroke the back of your head.

"Baby, I put myself in-

"No, I forced you to do the one thing you've always set a boundary on. I'm a shitty girlfriend, I should've just ended it before you walked by or just kept the whole clip for myself."

"Y/n, listen."

"Joey I'm so sorry, everyone is talking about how you and 'the girl behind the camera' are probably a thing. They're probably digging up pictures of us in public at the moment and there's nothing I can do to stop it. All of your business is going to be aired out-

"I know-

"Reporters are going to start showing up to your practices, and paparazzi will be following us. It's a disaster- wait what did you say?" You sniffle pulling your head up to face him. And he's smiling?

"I know and I don't care. All I care about is that the most important woman in my life is safe and happy. That's you mamas." He says softly, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

"Wait but you've worked so hard to keep your private life- private and I should've respected that."

He shakes his head. "I wanted to be in that video because you were the one behind the camera. Even if we weren't dating, I would have been in that video and people would've had something to say about it. I did it because you make me happy and I love watching you work. In fact.." He takes his phone out and queues a video onto the TV screen.

"Joe, what is this?" You ask as he comes up in today's outfit looking like it was filmed when he left for work this morning.

"Just watch." He grins.

*In the video he’s seen smiling and taking pictures with fans before his morning meeting.

“Hey Joey B! Over here!” A young boy jumps up trying to get his attention.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shuffles over to the kid to sign his helmet. “Hi, how you doing bud?”

“I’m great! My sister’s sad that you have a girlfriend now though.” The kid vibrates with energy and excitement, very different than his sister who’s glaring at him from the side.

Joe just laughs, gives the kid a fist bump, and moves on to another fan.*

“Joe, you didn’t say anything. What is this supposed to prove?” You huff in confusion.

“I know, that’s just my favorite part. You just need to see what happens next.” He assured pushing your focus back to the TV screen.

*As Joe starts to wave bye to the crowd a swarm of paparazzi and journalists emerge.*

You immediately start to frown because this is exactly what he's been trying to avoid.

*The people behind the giant cameras ask him all kinds of outlandish questions, all of which he ignores until a question about you pops up.

“Joe, are you hiding your girlfriend because you’re ashamed of her career and her race?” He stops right outside the door to the facility and spots the woman who asked the question.

“What did you say?” His eyes squint and brows furrow in the same way as they do when people question his football fatality.

“Last night, the Bengals website updated their faculty and staff page. The only new social media manager was a black woman named Y/n. What other reason could you be hiding your relationship for?” She asks confidently sticking her camera in his space.

“Do you hear how fucking dumb you sound?” He says so calmly making all the eyes around him widen. Including yours as you watch the incredulous look on his face turn to a scowl.

“I’m hiding her from idiots like you guys who follow me around with cameras chasing the wrong narratives. Do you really think I want to hide the love of my life from the world? Cause I don’t, but I would rather us have a good relationship that’s private rather than a shitty one controlled by the media. Literally, look at what happened after one lighthearted joke got taken out of context! And to even comment that her race was an issue? What fucking year do you live in? I would love that woman no matter what she did or how she looked. And it shouldn't matter. All of you are ridiculous. Have a great day.” Then walked into the facility slamming the door behind him.*

When he looks back over at you, silent tears are falling from your eyes. “Shit was it too much.” He says panicked.

You shake your head with a chuckle then lean up to press a chaste kiss on his lips. “No, it was perfect. I love you so much, Joseph.”

He returns the sweet kiss and holds you close. “I love you more than anything Y/n. I’d do anything for you, never forget that.”

“I won’t.”

~●○°●○°●○~

a/n: sorta kinda inspired by @slimshiesty, if you know you know and you absolutely should know.

#black reader #joe burrow bengals #nfl imagine #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x reader #introverts #socially awkward #social media #hidden relationship #bengals barnesbabe #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #fluff #videographer #shy boys

446 notes · View notes

chlmtsdoll · 19 days

Text

Guys I loved writing the first short n sweet inspo fic so here’s more bc that ovulation album is too good <3

WHERE ART THOU ? WHY NOT UPONETH ME ?

౨ৎ Summary: your hosting a slumber party at Art’s mansion. But you can’t quite stay away from your pull to get the man in a room where there are no others. Inspo from Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter 🤍

+ 18 | very much smut !, unprotected sex, age gap, (reader early 20’s) dilf!Art, size kink, first daddy kink fic (omg) semi-public sex, oral (f) reviving, pet names, this made me feel a bit slutty just writing it, needy!reader, fatherly Art ;)

A/N: the fucking edits on tiktok of Mike to Bed Chem are making me go insane ! just when I thought there was no possible way for me to be crazier over this man omfg. So I had to give the girls a fic to go w it ofc <3

It was like fate. The day you met him.

Nothing could of been more perfect when the stars aligned to bring you to accompany your solid group of trust fund friends to one of his tournaments that evening. You were like most girls your age, makeup, pop music, nice ornaments for your wardrobe — you weren’t the kind of girl that could say she knew much about sports, and certainly little to nothing to be caught landing a seat at the us open... but eventually that grew to be a substantial part of what found him to be so drawn to you.

It was that day when you’d been in the bleachers watching the blonde play like it was his life’s greatest prophecy. For the first time in your still too little years of living, you’d never felt that aroused by a man you’d only saw from the mere view of him hitting a ball with a racket.

But he was unearthly.

Built like how men used to be. Face like it came straight from heaven. Serve like he knew a thing or two in bed.

You were drunk on want, need for him. You were damn lucky your friends were loaded enough to go to all the after parties with most of the star athletes. It was insane to you that you would follow the vip and your most sports driven friends (enthusiast if you will.) to where the elites spend their time. You wanted a nice hang out. Good food. Expensive drinks. But it was between you and the universe that you’d leave with so much more.

You were in a sheer dress and kitten heels when he spotted you. Just his star studded sly smile from across the event hall, when he saw you and your friends conversing in mostly a pretentious manner like most kids your age did when they could afford the lifestyle most people only dreamed of. But not you, you were entranced, pulled away. By his wide, blue eyes that you assumed filled with the same yearn you’d been struck with. And to your quick manifest, Art was gazing right back at you.

Only sharing a couple brief exchanges with the tall and stature, modest but kindly — beautiful and magnetic man around mutual friends, before you’d both been rushed to leave. Him with his team, and you with your entourage.

Like that you were tied to the tennis star in the blink of a moment. And Soon enough — being photographed with him around the heat of the city.

Games, athlete dinner parties, press events. Even photos of you two sharing more than a couple of words, maybe even kisses, behind menus at glamorous rooftop restaurants. Magazine outlets went crazy through the roof in just a few weeks time. Milking whatever they could out of Art Donaldson and his controversially younger girlfriend.

They didn’t have enough tabs on what you two had officially been to one another and that was perfect for the two of you. Because now that time has pushed you and the blonde closer and more into each other — you’d spend days and nights locked away with Art in his new found mansion post his former divorce. Home so beautifully articulated and big enough for you to be extra generous with your time with the dream boat of a man.

It would go down in history what the two of you had done in every room.

Now, a gorgeous weekend ahead of you after your week that was always filled with Art treating you to the finest cooked dinners, at home date nights filled with breezy smiles and full closeness to balance your dates out on the town. Going wherever you felt just to hold hands under umbrellas and traffic lights. With all the new adorned love in your life, and man with too much mystic taking up your time, it had been a good minute since you saw your girlfriends, caught up or shared a drink. You were just so wound up in Art and the way he treated you like a princess to, and in your own world.

So you’d asked Art if you could host a sweet little sleepover for you and your girls at the mansion — and of course he complied. It was anything for his perfect girl since the beginning.

“I could ask the chef to whip up some,” Art spoke into you as he held your hips in his vast hands running carefully over the hem of your satin bottoms as you stood in the middle of the spacious kitchen with him.

“That’s okay, I wanna do it.” You laughed softly, as you stared up at the man. “Nothing says fun girls night like making our own home made friandises”

Art had tilted his head in slight confusion with eyes in question to your tone when you’d practice what you’d been learning in your French courses on him. It was all the most adorable to you really. Your laugh echoed.

“Treats, baby.”

“I- - I knew that,” He scoffed and your giggles were infectious with delight to him.

“It’s gonna be fun. We’ll watch movies, paint our nails, share snacking tips. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the girls.”

Art grinned at the way you lit up with excitement, and his icy eyes looked down at your figure below him. He tried not to bite down on his lip at the way you were in the pajamas usually he only saw you in. Pink lace two piece jammies. Completely recognized because he got them for you. The transparency to them was way too easy on the eyes.

Arts tongue darted out to wet his lips before he questioned, “Is that what you’re wearing ? There aren’t gonna be any boys.. right ?”

“No, silly. That of course counts out you — if.. you wanna join us.” You looked up at him through your lightly mascara coated lashes, it felt as if the flirtatiousness through your gaze just hooked Art by the belt.

“No, no. I’ll give you and your friends your space, doll.” The blonde gave you a chary little smile, “I really doubt they’d want an old man around while you’re trying to have fun.”

“Quit it ! You’re not old. And they adore you.” You stood on the tips of your toes, Art met you so you could leave a sweet kiss on his cheek, with a blush to your own.

“Thank’s for letting me have this little party, baby.”

“Course, what else would be better use for all this space ? Other than for the amusement of twenty something girls.”

Art chuckled and you surely were in agreement, because when your girlfriends did arrive it was immediately shrieks of girlish camaraderie and chatter of awe as you brought them around the place of posh and eloquent nature. Your laugh could of been heard from the other side of the place where Art had eventually been stored away for the night while your hands were knee deep in cookie dough and rainbow sprinkles. Pj sets all from the brands you and your friends never stopped talking about. Having your night filled with reruns of classic movies to sipping champagne.. and the wine, red, (your pick) was certainly slipping through you as the moments went on.

You’d been with your best friend when you two had a moment alone to catch up in one of the halls of the buoyant abode. Whispers and giggles coming from between the two of you as a glass of wine hung from your palm.

“God, he was a such a cutie.” She coo’d as you two had found a very special wall of framed photos of Art from back in his prime tennis days. The blonde around your age who seemed filled with joyfully energetic faces and awards from across the globe. A smile woke upon your face as you folded your arm to admire the man you’d now call your own.

“Sometimes I wish I’d known him then,” you simpered. “But I’m beyond lucky now. Because he’s still cute, and sexier.”

You tittered fondly and your friend laughed with you as she playfully tugged on your shoulder. “You gotta lock that down, y’know… you’ll be like- - hella famous just from being a world class tennis superstars hot young wife.”

She announced as she sipped on something burgundy and you thought with a heightened grin. She couldn’t have been farther from right. And as the months go by you would fall farther and farther head over heels for Art every day. You’d be his wife in an instant. That was the dream after all, and you could certainly say you’d been living one.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait for him to put a ring on it..” You smiled with a dazed shrug as you embarked your wine glass to your lips again.

“He better.” Your friend chirped with a proud glint and you couldn’t help but stay stuck in your thought of your boyfriend who’s been just a few rooms away for the past couple of hours while you’d been enjoying all the perks of your girls making the most of their time with you. But you couldn’t help but want Art to be nearby now, and the red wine in your system maybe hit more than just your head — you couldn’t even try to fight it.

You missed your man.

So after you’d take in a few more drinks and a bit sensually themed games with your friends, you’d made your attempt escape off to find Art. Slipping away from the girls was easy when you’d have every necessity needed to execute a very graceful grown up girl sleepover provided for them.

You’d been walking down the hall heading to where his office and master bedroom would be at the end of the home, and as you passed by the lush kitchen area, to your surprise, there he was. Muscles looked enchantingly delicious in this light as they flexed to pull on the fridge handle and when he turned, his eye line met your glance staring back his way (of course you’d both arrive at the same time.) Arts lips began to curl in an amours grin when he saw your petite figure making it’s way over to him with the same like of smile across your face.

“Hi, baby. You having fun?” He glanced down at you through his blonde lashes to meet your nod, only following up with a soft titter as you stepped closer to the man. He almost immediately picked up on the lust laced within your eye and the way you slightly leaned onto the fridge door with your aura basically gooing with sex at him now. The blonde had an eyebrow furrowed as he chuckled just a bit and he sized you up.

“Are you drunk, princess?”

“No. No… no,” you shook your head.

It had been true. You weren’t drunk, but a little wine tipsy and horny ? Definitely.

Art hummed and put the back of his hand to your forehead gently as he observed your state. “Did you eat?”

“Mhm, did you ?”

“No. That’s why I came down, not to stalk you. I promise.” The man laughed, to which you did as well and you only raised your arms so they could embrace your boyfriend’s shoulders with a soft hum.

“Y’know, if you’re hungry, you can eat me.” Your finger tips grace Arts neck unashamed as you smile into the crook, and he took in a breath, proceeding to hold you close.

“Oh- -” his chuckle matched your giggle as he noticed you’d changed again. His hands were gliding up the ruffle of the even more transparent sheer cover on you’d been dressed in. Lime tinted. The shorts were near pantie like.

“Mmm, I miss you, I want you.” You peppered kisses as close as you could to his earlobe from your height and Arts breath hitched as he was weak to your slow but enticing touch to him. Fogging up his knowledge that you’d been right in the middle of the open kitchen that was just a few ways down from the living area your friends had been in.

“Here, sweetness ? Your friends- -” Art murmurs down to your ear, but you just locked your arms just above his shoulders without a care.

“And- - ? What about them ? I need you,” you whined. “I want your touch.”

“Yeah? You want me to touch you?”

You nodded again with a naughty giggle and the blonde was smirking now, his hands roamed your body. Large and groping your curves. As much as he knew what was rightful, Art just couldn’t deny your cling to him in that damn near lingerie that had him going almost unbearably hard beneath his jeans since you walked in. Feral even. It was beginning to get miserable as you pressed your dainty chest against his, he felt your nipples grow hard and sensitive against the cloth. So into his aroma, presence, like you were a moth to a torch.

He’d fallen into your pecks merging with his now. Kissing you against where the cupboards stand like your lips were candy. Your small legs stumbling as the man towered over you “Fuck, you look amazing in that set.” Art pulled away from your plump lips to view your gorgeously perfect petite body. You batted your lashes once. And his attain just couldn’t be stopped. Art slid his hands across your soft ass cheeks, massaging and kneading it in his palms before leading up to laying a solid smack which made you hiss out an excited squeal-like giggle. Your fingertips slid down his ample biceps brushed with virile bristles of hair.

“If I had known you’d like this set so much, I would of worn it much sooner for you.”

Art leaned into you and he held a sly smirk, “this was your plan all along, yeah? Wearing that to get my attention so I would come out here and fuck you in the middle of your slumber party.. you’re such a naughty girl.”

You only giggled more into his skin with a slow exhale, your freshly painted french tips exploring him as he explored you. Art took his sweet time just feeling the way your ass jiggled in his palms and you felt like you’d been going weak in the knees before his tender contact turned rough when he turned you around without warning, making you gasp.

Art made sure you could feel how hard you’d gotten him as he pressed himself to your core. Facing the counter, you lost yourself in complete bliss just to the feeling of not knowing where he’d pleasure you next — Arts restrained bulge against your clothed cunt was just something else. The blonde pushed up your sheer top just a bit and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, you made a soft noise with it.

“Feel what you do to me, pretty girl.” Art nibbled on your earlobe and you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to subtle your smile. His hands bracing your hips as he stared down at your lacy panties and your minx-like eyes followed Arts famished expression while he licked his bottom lip.

“All yours, daddy.” Your sweet voice immediately made Art go nearly lightheaded and that was it. He melted.

The man tucked both his thumbs into the fabric and pulled your panties down clean with raucousness, followed up with him getting down on his knees before spreading you with his palms and your hands reached for the marble with a soft whimper.

“That’a girl, stay open for me.. Let me taste you.” Art huffed out before he pushed one of your legs up on the counter and you breathed out at the feeling of him making your body his toy for amusement. Art took his fingers and ran them up your folds, getting them wet with the slick of your pussy. Your cheeks turned scarlet just at the wonderful pad of his index running against your core like that , making you let out a soft, “oh..” by the way he moved to rub around your clit. Arts lips kissed on your exposed inner thighs, and your jaw became unlocked extraordinarily far when his tongue finally rolled on the soft tissue.

He was splitting you clean open on the counter as tiny whimpers escaped your throat. You were lost in the draw you had to the man making you feel surpassing of even the way you played it all out in your head. “Mmm, yeah- - yes” you panted and the man flicked his digit over your bud at the same time he’d been making out with your cunt. Letting deep groans flow throughout your opening. You’d been on the tip of your toes for him. Letting him suck where you pulsed till you’d been overstimulated if he wanted.

Your head had been spinning from the friction of his perfectly sculpted nose rubbing against your sensitive area. Art was known to be gifted with his mouth so much so, you almost wondered if your friends would have heard if you just couldn’t keep your moans level — but with the way Art held your hips, fucked his tongue into your cunt like you’d been his last meal, your anxiousness washed away. All you could do was let the shake of your thighs and Arts dripping oral member lead you to a crisp pleasurable cry.

“Shit,” Art took a brief exhale as he pulled away from your entrance, dampened lips of your juices going wide with a grin and he ran his palms over your slick thighs again,

“you’re so fucking wet for me, princess. You gonna take my dick? Let me make you feel good?”

“Mmm, please. Fill me up, Art. I wanna feel you.”

“You gotta be quite for me, baby.” Art stood to his feet.

You didn’t care. All you could think about was dick. Arts phenomenal dick. You wanted him to toss you over and split you open till you were sobbing on his thick member, your wine drunk friends would understand. A girl has her needs.

The risk made your blood pressure rise as the moment went on, when Art reached over you to tug your panties dangling from your thighs all the way down — he kicked them off to the side. Taking note of his own belt buckle and undoing it quickly, which you only grew more greedy by the sound of him unzipping his fly. The blondes aquamarine orbs swam with the need to pump you fuller than you’d ever taken him.

“Bend over for me, sweet girl..” Art breathed out softly as his slightly calloused hands ran from your hip up your spine while you did so, bending over fully and displaying your sweet dripping cunt for the mans lidded eyes. He sucked in his breath and his now aroused dick twitched when it unveiled from his boxers — going barmy with just how tiny and soft you looked beyond him.

“So fucking tight and small- - your amazing with the way you take me when I barely fit in, sweets.”

You bit down on your finger as you watched Art run his hands over your ass. Take your hips and line his cock up with your hole. He hissed at the way your soaking cunt wet his tip, you almost croaked out a deep moan at his gestures to tease your pussy. Just nodding along as you’d gone cock drunk before he’d even been in you. Your nails run at the marble counter as Art slowly burrowed into your drooling core. Working you open as his cock disappeared into your body inch by inch — he pushed your thigh higher onto the ledge as you whined at the stretch.

“Ah.. mmm- - fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groaned as you adjusted to the size of his warmth finally filling you full. Art was big. And he’d never want to put you, his sweet doll in discomfort for long, never. So when he started to plunge into you, he watched as your face scrunched up from ache to pleasure in time. His name sputtering from your mouth as you clawed at the counter top and he watched your pussy lips that were just throbbing around his erection like it was begging to be so sporadically fucked by him.

“That’s it baby doll,” his own groans heightened as his hips knock into your cervix, chasing that spot of yours till you were moaning and whimpering like a slut around him. Hole so full with yours and his pre-cum and you sucked in your bottom lip, tussled hair going wild on your back. You just had to look over your shoulder to watch him — see Arts gorgeous face as he snapped against you all shimmering with light sweat as he focused on the way a ring of your wetness pooled around his base.

“You love this, hu? Getting me to fuck you while your friends carry on without you- - At your party. But you just had to come.. looking for daddy’s cock, yeah? You love being a dirty, dirty girl for me.” Art rasped as he clenched his jaw with the overwhelming feeling of your tight cunt clenching him. It made your skin feel like it had been sparked with fire, so exhilarated. He put his hands in your hair to fuck into you as your jaw dangled open.

“Oh! F-fuck! I needed that big fucking dick, daddy… w-want you to cum all over me, mmm- -” you were choking out whimpers and your pretty little hole dripped with Arts pre-seed slipping from you, making it drag out when he pulled out of your pussy to turn you around and pick you up in one swift motion. Your high pitched gasp echoed as you wrapped your legs around the mans abdomen and Art set you on the counter. His lips curl up into a smirk and his eyes met your wide doe set ones. Slipping back into you he watched you cry out his name. Rutting into your heavenly body at this angle, hands go squeezing your thighs, and Art kept them apart as he took you at a wild pace. Hitting that gooey spot till you didn’t remember your own name. “Good fucking girl. That’s it- - such a sweet thing for me, taking all of my cock. It was made for you, doll.”

You couldn’t even catch your self as you’d leaned back on the counter and let Art pound into you. Your tits bounced with each thrust and you were shuttering as your orgasm ripped through you without warning. “Yes ! Ooh- - shit, yes yes yes…” you were whining out as you came on Arts dick. He held your legs spread as he grunted and watched you soak him uncontrollably. You loved it. Feeling like his perfect little gift. Art licked over his lips at the sight of your beauty, throwing your head back in bliss, he pulled out of you and pushed up your dainty little baby doll top — making space as he pumped his throbbing dick over your stomach till he himself came hard. Ropes shooting out on your candescent skin and making sure some got on your pussy just for the fun of it, he grinned and trailed his thumb up your gentle inner calf that had been dangling by his side.

You were whimpering like you’d gotten your brains fucked out to the sweetest soundtrack you’d ever heard. Art was so cinematic in moments like these, he leaned up to kiss at the nape of your neck, cheek, and lips.

“Pretty, perfect girl.. I love you.” Your gentleman muttered against your mouth. You smiled and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Art brought your panties up to help you slip them back over your thighs and to your feet as steady as you could. Dressing himself as well, he glanced down at you through his hooded eyes to see your impressively only slightly disheveled state. You were just always glowing, it was hard to make that go away anyways.

“You sleeping down here tonight?” Art buckled his pants again as he questioned you with a soft raised brow. You started to smirk at the way he was heading. You shrug.

“Maybe, maybe not… I’ll sneak into your room when they’re sleep, if you want.” You offered the man, the glint in your eye saying you’d suck his cock and let him have you in as many different positions as he’d like in a couple hours till you were all tapped out. The blonde only scuffed and towered over your presence that was still taken by your hoyden attitude, just to turn you back towards the door way.

“Go host your party.” he taunted almost fatherly, to then leave a light slap on your ass that made you giggle on the way out.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #dilf!art #challengers #challengers smut #x reader #challngers x reader #challengers fic #petite!reader #size k!nk #fanfiction #sabrina carpenter #short n sweet #bed chem

925 notes · View notes