#warmup while i work on other things
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bearforceone3 · 1 month ago
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i thought the one interaction helena and tora had in jli was cute (ignore the men)
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I can go a little insane. as a treat
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pochaccoups · 5 months ago
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facetime — choi seungcheol & yoon jeonghan
pairing — choi seungcheol x yoon jeonghan x f!reader
summary — when three people in a relationship want to fuck but one of them is in a different country, facetime comes in pretty handy.
wc — 4k
warnings — nsfw content minors dni! smut, established polyamorous relationship, threesome (technically), phone sex, butt plugs, anal and vaginal fingering, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation, so much dirty talk, soft dom!seungcheol, brat tamer!seungcheol, prone bone, creampie, slight daddy kink, reader referred to as a girl, a lot of ‘cheollie’ and ‘hannie’ sorry but i think they sound cute
author’s note — umm hi can u tell i had so much fun writing this …… this will be part of a poly jeongcheol series i have in the works so pls stay tuned and enjoy !!! :>
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seungcheol: just finished up the show, what are you up to?
jeonghan: busy.
Attached is a photo that’s slightly shaky and dimly lit, but Seungcheol can make out every detail of you with Jeonghan’s cock halfway down your throat. 
It takes less than a second for Seungcheol’s caller ID to pop up on Jeonghan’s phone screen, and Jeonghan doesn’t hesitate to answer. 
“Yah… You know I hate being left out,” is the first thing Seungcheol says. The sound of his deep voice makes you draw your mouth off of Jeonghan.
“Cheollie?” you ask, beaming as you snatch your boyfriend’s phone from his hands so that you can see your other boyfriend through the screen. 
“Hi, pretty,” Seungcheol says, waving. He looks hot, but that’s a perpetual characteristic of his. He hasn’t removed his makeup yet, and his hair, getting longer, is still styled from the show. “Miss me?”
“So much. We both do,” you say with a grin. You make a show of mouthing at Jeonghan’s cock for the camera, sticking out your tongue so you can slap the tip on it, swirling it around, all with a faint mischievous gleam in your eyes at the sound of one boyfriend’s whines and the other’s sulking.
“Yeah? Doesn’t really seem like you do,” Seungcheol says, laying back on a bed that’s way too soft, too cold, too far away. 
“Seungcheollie, you know how needy our girl is-ah,” Jeonghan pipes up, moaning as you wrap your lips around him and bob your head up and down. 
“I do know, and you’re not innocent either, Jeonghan. You miss getting your pretty little ass fucked, don’t you?” 
You worry Jeonghan will bust then and there from the way his cock twitches in your mouth, but fuck was Seungcheol right. It’s why you all prefer to have sex with all three of you present, because at this point having someone missing feels… weird. Not bad. Definitely not. But the absence of a third lover becomes far too apparent.
Right now, you and Jeonghan don’t have much of a choice though. Duty calls, meaning Seungcheol is touring on the other side of the world—has been for the last two weeks and will be for another two weeks. Jeonghan would be with him if it weren’t for his enlistment. Alas, you have Seungcheol’s voice to do what it does best: tell you two exactly what to do. 
“Take all of him, baby, you know you can,” he says, soft and slightly commanding in a way that makes you want to do good just for him, make him proud. And you’ve taken Seungcheol, who’s a little longer and far thicker, all the way down your throat many, many times before that swallowing Jeonghan’s entire length feels like a mere warmup. 
Pride swells through you when your two boyfriends curse above you, filling you with an eagerness to give them more. So while one of your hands holds the phone, albeit shakingly, your other hand pumps the base of Jeonghan’s cock, in rhythm with your mouth as you bob up and down. It’s wet and obscene, the way you lap up the precum that leaks from your boyfriend’s tip only to let it spill from your lips and drool all over him, all over your fingertips. 
Your eyes never break away from Seungcheol, who’s chewing on his bottom lip and staring at you with eyes that are both clouded over with desire and dark with concentration. If you know your boyfriend then he’s thinking of all the things he would do if he was in the same room as you two.
Jeonghan doesn’t expect it when one of your spit-slick fingers creeps down to his ass and traces his hole, and he squirms and cries as you prod at his opening before pushing inside. He’s taken Seungcheol many, many times, too, that your finger should feel like a warmup, but two weeks without his boyfriend’s cock stretching him out is torture, so the slide of your digit in and out is a sweet relief that he’s forgotten. 
You pull your mouth away from him, sitting up on your knees so that you can angle the camera for Seungcheol to watch as your finger dips in, all the way to your knuckle, then back out of Jeonghan’s hole. 
“He’s so whiny today, Cheollie.”
“Mm, more than usual, huh?” he replies, licking his lips, his hand reaching to his crotch to palm at it just a little. He thinks about how his fingers are twice as thick as yours, how Jeonghan would sob if it was his hands inside him. 
“He misses your fat cock,” you say, and Seungcheol feels his sanity jump straight out of his hotel window. You’ve always proven detrimental to his patience and self-control, taking years off of your poor boyfriend’s life with your bratty ways. “Right, Hannie?” you say, right as you pull your finger out of him, grinning as he squirms and curses under his breath as a reply.
You only stop fingering him because you have an idea. With the phone still in hand, you dangle yourself off the side of the king bed to open one of the bedside table drawers, grab the silver heart-shaped plug and bottle of lube, then clamber back between your boyfriend’s legs. Jeonghan watches with glistening eyes as you drizzle the plug with lube. Once it’s drenched, you flip the phone camera around, letting Seungcheol watch as you press the tapered end of the plug against Jeonghan’s hole. The cold toy makes him flinch at first, and he shudders as you circle his rim with it until he’s thoroughly smeared with the sticky liquid. 
The sound Jeonghan makes when you push the plug inside of him is pitiful, and it’s in harmony with a deep groan of approval from Seungcheol. You’re the furthest one from dominant among the three of you, and yet you have these men dangerously wrapped around your finger. Your men.
“There,” you say, content, like you’ve just painted a masterpiece—and your boyfriend’s pretty ass with a cute heart-shaped butt plug nestled inside comes pretty close. 
“That’s my girl. So thoughtful,” says Seungcheol, and his praise ignites you with a sense of accomplishment that rivals the highest of promotions. 
“Can I make him eat me out now?” you ask, because it’s Cheol who does this best; sets the pace, tells you what to do, lets you sit in the palm of his hand while he does all the thinking for the three of you. A true leader, through and through. 
“Keep sucking Hannie off, baby, just for a bit,” is his instruction. It would be easy to disobey him, yes, to disconnect the call and turn off the phone if you so pleased, but the thing about Seungcheol is that even when his voice is soft, it still commands. 
You pout only for the sake of pouting because, really, having Jeonghan’s cock in your mouth is one of your favourite pastimes. You waste no time swallowing him all the way down to his base again, only to pop right back off him just to hear a tortured moan from him. You fall back into an up and down bobbing rhythm then, steadily, lips wrapped tight around your boyfriend’s length in the way that you know won’t make him last long. 
“Jeonghannie,” Seungcheol calls out, but the man in question is too busy whining and whimpering to hear him. When he’s close his brain all but shuts off and the only thing he can do is take whatever he’s getting with pretty, pretty moans. 
“Baby, don’t let him cum yet,” Seungcheol urges you instead. 
Jeonghan nearly sobs this time when you pop your mouth off his cock, but there’s a force in Seungcheol’s voice that compels you to listen. “Yes, daddy,” you say—the cherry on top.
Seungcheol drags a hand over his face, groaning. “Fuck, you two want me dead, huh?”
“Yeah, well, you two are disgusting… and annoying,” says Jeonghan, who sounds thoroughly irritated as a cute frown knits his brows together. 
Poor, poor you, with not one but two needy, jealous boyfriends who can’t stand not being the subjects of all your affection. If it was you in Seungcheol’s position, alone on the other side of the world, you would never get this sulky. You’d be completely rational about it. Obviously.
The urge to soothe Jeonghan comes as an instinct, one that makes you crawl up from between his legs so that you can straddle his slender waist and kiss his pouting lips. He melts into you when you do, mouth moulding against yours so sweetly, his hands falling to your waist and the tips of his fingers dancing softly against your skin. The Facetime call is forgotten, much to Seungcheol’s dismay, as you drop the phone to the bed in favour of cradling Jeonghan’s cheeks in your hands so that you can kiss him harder. Your crotch, still clothed, rocks back and forth over his erection and soon you’re moaning into one another’s mouths, muffled by your tongues that are swirling together. 
Jeonghan doesn’t have half of Seungcheol’s strength to manhandle you around, so he opts to gently guide you off his lap and onto the bed until you’re underneath him. He kisses you once, twice, thrice, leaves you reeling as he moves on to pepper your neck with soft nibbles and scrapes of his teeth. He pulls away for a moment only to drag your t-shirt (one of Seungcheol’s, of course) up and over your head. 
Now that you’re less occupied with Jeonghan’s lips, you pick up the phone again and bring the camera up to your face, grinning at Seungcheol’s small pout on the screen. If you could only hop through the phone and into his lap, you would do it in a heartbeat. 
“Cheollie, wanna see your cock, please,” you say, shivering as Jeonghan mouths at one of your nipples. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue as his hands reach up to grasp your tits delicately, and you sigh when his warm, wet mouth envelops one of your hardened buds. 
“Not yet, baby, I’ll take it out when Jeonghan fucks you, okay?” 
Seungcheol chuckles fondly at your unhappy hum, so he adds, “I wanna cum with you two, yeah?”
“Okay, fine- wait, Hannie,” you whine. “My boobs.”
He peers up, already between your legs, having decided he was done giving attention to your tits. You see right through it—your boyfriend is nothing if not vengeful. 
“You’re too spoiled,” he quips, peeling your shorts and panties down your legs, exposing your drooling pussy to him. 
“And you’re used to Cheollie doing everythi-ahh!” Jeonghan cuts you off when he licks your cunt without warning, sending your eyes rolling back into your head and your hand grabbing a fistful of his now-short hair. He’s far from rough and aggressive, but it’s precisely the patient softness of his touch that leaves you keening for more. 
“Baby, can you do me a favour?” Seungcheol asks, practically cooing as he watches your eyes glaze over with pleasure.
But all you can focus on is the way that Jeonghan’s warm tongue flicks lazily over your clit as well as the grip of his fingers on your thighs. 
“Baby?” Seungcheol tries again, only a little louder. This time your eyes flick to him on the screen and you make a little affirmative noise. “Will you flip the phone screen around for me, please? I wanna watch Hannie eat your pretty pussy.”
You do as he asks, pointing the camera to give Seungcheol a view of his boyfriend between his girlfriend’s thighs. 
“Good girl,” he says, breathier now, his tone darker. It’s deliberate; malicious, you would say—his praise makes you a whiny, needy mess. His voice alone turns you into a slut and he knows that because you’d told him that, word for word. “And since I’m not there, can you play with your tits for me, baby? The way that I would do it? I know it’s not the same, but it’ll still feel good.” 
“Mhm,” you moan. You find yourself closing your eyes as you let go of Jeonghan’s hair and bring your hand to cup your own breast, to squeeze and grope at it, to tweak and tug at your nipple, all while imagining that you’re leaned against your boyfriend’s sturdy, broad body and that it’s his big, unrelenting hand cupping your tits and not your own. 
At the same time, Jeonghan eats your pussy like the fiend that he is. Unlike Seungcheol, who lacks the control to stop himself from ravaging you like an animal until your pussy is raw and puffy, Jeonghan is much more, as he is in all aspects of his life, calculated. He’ll string you along with swipes of his tongue that seem coy until he’s making passes through your folds, prodding at your dripping, awaiting entrance. He licks into your hole and sips at your arousal like it’s honey, intent on making you fall apart slowly.
“How does his mouth feel, angel? Tell him,” says Seungcheol, whose lips have gotten swollen from his relentless chewing on them.
“God, Hannie, feels so good,” you squeak, your eyes still screwed shut as if that’ll help soothe the heat that burns through your body from Jeonghan’s mouth. Your fingers keep pinching at your nipple, and then Jeonghan slips two of his fingers into your heat, sending your hips bucking against his face and leaving you whining desperately, shamelessly. 
While his mouth makes out with your cunt, Jeonghan’s fingers dip in and out of you, massaging at your most sensitive spot over and over. He finds it with practiced ease, and he knows by now exactly what kind of vigour it needs to have you crying. He’s practically petting at your insides, your walls clamping around his fingers as your moans start to grow louder.
“H-hannie, I’m close, please, right there,” you squirm as your walls attempt to suck his fingers in.
You don’t see it, but his eyes flash with something devilish. Your other boyfriend sees it, though. 
“Jeonghan, don’t even think about edging her.”
Jeonghan smirks with mischief, letting his fingers do the work as he pulls his mouth away from your pussy. 
“Let me have my fun, Seungcheollie.” 
“If I did that neither you nor her would cum at all,” is your other boyfriend’s response. 
There’s silence as Jeonghan ponders whether he should obey or disobey. All the while, you’re mere inches away from your edge, hot with frustration because it’s so close; you’re so close. You just need a little bit more. It’s not too much to ask.
“Hannie, please…”
And he can’t find it in himself to deprive you any longer, so he crooks his fingers and works them as fast as he possibly can until you’re clenching, gushing, writhing all around his hand, wailing his name as you grab at his wrist but he still won’t stop. 
“Such a good boy, huh, Jeonghannie? Making her cum so good,” comes Seungcheol’s voice, sounding more breathless with each time he speaks. “Now we’re all happy.”
It’s only once your walls have stopped spasming around his fingers that Jeonghan finally slips them out of you and pops them straight into his mouth, licking them clean of every drop of your sugary arousal. He makes sure to gaze directly into the camera as his tongue laves and swirls over each one of his digits, knowing Seungcheol’s dick is twitching at the sight.
“I haven’t cum yet though. So I’m not happy yet,” he says, dragging a finger out of his mouth with a pop.
You sit up on your elbows with your cute, blissed out features, your eyes falling to his red-hard cock. 
“Come here and fuck me, then,” you say, impatient, like he didn’t just give you an orgasm. You paw at the hem of his shirt (also Seungcheol’s) and bite your lip as he pulls it over his head, letting your hands roam over his pale torso.
“Ride me?” he asks. How predictable. If it’s not Seungcheol taking him from behind then it’s you on top of him. God forbid Yoon Jeonghan does the work.
“Actually, I have a better idea. And this way Cheollie can see us both,” you say with a grin. 
With the phone on the front-facing camera, you prop it up against the headboard and roll onto your stomach, craning your head to look at him over your shoulder. 
“Like this?” Jeonghan asks, straddling the backs of your thighs.
“Yeah,” you say, parting your legs a little, arching your back and raising your hips—presenting your soaked, messy hole to him. “Try not to get tired.”
He responds with a half-hearted smack to your ass and Cheol scoffs out a chuckle. Jeonghan slides his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, revelling in your tiny gasps every time it catches on your entrance. You’re prepared to whine and nag at your boyfriend to hurry up, but you suppose he’s feeling just as impatient as you are because he’s pushing in before you can even speak up. You look at Seungcheol, mouth dropping as you’re stuffed full with Jeonghan’s cock until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. His hands land on either side of your elbows so that he can hover over you, reel his hips back, and fuck himself into you like that. 
In this position, Jeonghan’s length brushes right against your gummy, sensitive spot with every stroke, making you keen for more even though he’s just started. 
“Harder, Hannie,” you sigh, pushing your ass up against his hips.
Instead of listening, he drops his head to the crook of your shoulder and kisses your skin. His breath tickles your ear when he whispers to you: “ah, what’s the rush, angel?”
You turn your head to catch his gaze, to drink in the sight of his face as he takes what he needs from you; his cheeks pink, his eyes tired and full of hunger. His lips, plump and enticing, evoke an unrivalled craving within you and he reads you well, brings his mouth to yours to give you as much satiation as he can muster. 
Seungcheol sits, silent, waiting. His patience is mere embers as he watches you two, his boyfriend and his girlfriend, tangled within one another. The wet slap of Jeonghan’s balls against the back of your thighs; the smacking of your lips, teeth, and tongues. He misses it. Fuck, he could go insane. 
“Cheollie,” you whine, when Jeonghan’s lips are no longer enough. “Want you to feel good too.” 
“Yeah, okay,” he replies, abandoning all semblance of the self-control he’d displayed up until now. It’s time, anyway, he thinks. He’s held off long enough. He puts his phone down and there’s shuffling as he strips himself of his sweat-soaked outfit from the show and settles upon the bed sheets once more. 
Saliva pools from the sides of your mouth when he angles his camera to show you his hand wrapped around his thick, erect dick and God, what you’d do to have it bruising the back of your throat until you’re gagging, letting him defile you all while he coos the sweetest of praises at you. 
“Daddy, I miss your cock so bad,” you admit in a weak whimper, shivering when Jeonghan angles himself deeper inside you.
“Yeah? Miss how I’d fuck your pretty little mouth?”
“Fuck, she’s clenching so hard around me, Seungcheollie,” Jeonghan grits. “Greedy little thing.”
“I mean, it’s our fault one cock’s not enough to make her happy anymore,” says Seungcheol, sighing with relief as he thumbs at his leaking tip, squeezing his fist around it, reminiscent of the way that you and Jeonghan like to tease him.
“Like I said,” says Jeonghan as he pushes two of his fingers between your parted lips. “Spoiled.”
You moan around them, staring straight into the camera as you suck on them, staring at Seungcheol, who starts to pump his hand up and down his cock. He wants to shut his eyes and pretend it’s your hand, or Jeonghan’s hand, or one of your tight, warm holes, but he can’t take his eyes off of his phone screen no matter how hard he wants to, and, well, he doesn’t want to.
He jerks himself off to the same rhythm that Jeonghan’s hips grind into yours. Seungcheol likes things a little faster, usually, more rough, but it’s Jeonghan who’s inside you right now, not him, so he matches his boyfriend’s lazy but not too slow pace, one that’s just enough to give you a gradual stimulation. 
There’s something about the whole thing—being fucked on camera, being teased with Seungcheol’s cock when you can’t have it—it has you way more excited than you expected. Way more turned on than you expected. It shows in the floods of arousal that drip from your pussy and dampen yours and Jeonghan’s thighs, in the way you’re whinier and more sensitive than usual.
Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s own noises don’t help. In fact they spur you on, coax you closer to your edge, urge the heat in your belly to grow. When Seungcheol isn’t giving deep, rasped curses, he’s letting out pretty, breathy, borderline whimpering moans. Jeonghan’s sounds are as angelic as he is. His voice is a holy choir in your ear, heavenly and soft as he gasps with exertion and pleasure; as he does things to you that any God would frown upon.
Jeonghan, too, is more sensitive. With the plug constantly brushing at his prostate, he can’t help but screw his eyes shut and pretend it’s his big, buff boyfriend fucking his girth into him. It makes his thrusts grow raggedy, like he’s more heavy. His body weight presses into you as his arms start to ache just a little. He’s impossibly deep in your guts like this and it feels so fucking good that your brain starts to melt. 
Seungcheol recognises the look in your eye—absent, like you’re starting to tap out and letting yourself become consumed by bliss.
“Is she getting close, angel?” he questions, punctuating it with a moan, the slick glide of his hand up and down his cock like music in your ears.
Jeonghan hums affirmatively. “Pretty pussy’s choking me,” he says, his voice cracking, his composure with it. He tries to put more vigour in his thrusts, more determination. The sooner you cum, the sooner he cums. 
“Cum for Jeonghannie, baby,” Seungcheol urges softly. 
“Cum for me,” Jeonghan echoes. You don’t stand a chance.
The heat inside you coils up, then erupts. Jeonghan fucks you through your climax as you tremble beneath him, crying his name and clawing at the sheets below you. 
“There it is, my good girl,” Seungcheol coos, tightening his grip on his cock as he tugs at it harshly as though it could ever replicate the feeling of your warm walls clamping down on him as you cum. 
“Ah, fuck,” Jeonghan gasps, dropping his head to your shoulder, cock twitching. His next request is a broken, pathetic moan. “Ch-cheollie, cum with me.”
Jeonghan stills inside you, whimpering softly with every rope of cum that he spills inside you, letting you milk him of every last drop. At the same time, Seungcheol gives a resounding groan as he brings himself to his own release, cum splattering over his toned stomach. 
There’s a moment of silence, or, rather, nothing but a harmony of laboured breaths as the three of you come down from your orgasms. You give a noise of protest as Jeonghan suddenly rolls off of you, but his stamina is always drained after sex—especially when he’s doing the work. You shiver, both from the emptiness in your cunt and the cold air that hits you now that you no longer have your boyfriend’s body as a shield from it. 
“Seungcheollie’s gonna wanna see your cum leak out of me, you know,” you say. 
“You know me so well, baby,” is Seungcheol’s reply. 
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. He makes no effort to move from his spot, opting to stretch his arm above his head and pat around until he finds the phone. He sits up next to you, points the camera between your legs as he grips one of your ass cheeks and spreads you apart. 
There’s a screenshot sound as white drools from your spent hole.
“Seungcheol!” you shriek. “You pervert.”
“Coups-ya, send that to me.”
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thank you for reading! reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated <3
tags — @svtiddiess @ylangelegy @simpxxstan @caibeauchicfashion
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multicohn · 2 months ago
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summary: being an f1 driver and student really drives kimi insane. surely, his partner is willingly to do his homework for him... right?
warnings: cursing, short
pairing: gn! academically gifted! reader x kimi antonelli
genre: fluff
author note: i do admire kimi for still being in school. i would’ve quit
✦ . ���⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
y/n understood that kimi is busy and can’t really do his homework or study for exams during the race weekend. he has so much going on and y/n always did their best to help him, but being in a top team in the top category for his sport changed things.
kimi has more media to do, meetings that required his attendance, longer warmups, and so many other things slotted in between. he was even busy during the weeks that didn’t have a race scheduled.
so, he relied on y/n to help with his studies. his partner is academically talented and is always gifted top marks in every subject they take. kimi didn’t care that much, but he still wanted to pass.
he normally called them at night or on the way to wherever he was going for help. however, kimi is currently stuck in the middle of a triple header and had forgotten all about the stacked emails sent from his teachers about what needed to be done until y/n came to watch him and asked about it.
“what homework?”
“have you not checked your emails?”
• • •
“shit”
y/n watched as kimi internally freaked out. maybe they shouldn’t have brought it up, but in their defence — he’s always remembered ( and then complained about it ).
“babe” he gripped their shoulders with an intense look in his eyes
“you have to do my homework”
silence.
the couple just stared at each other. kimi’s eyes were full of determination while y/n’s were blank.
“you’re not serious” his grip tightened slightly, but it was barley noticeable
“dead serious” y/n scoffed
kimi has never once asked them to do his homework. yes, there have been times where y/n did his homework, but it was only a few questions so they didn’t mind.
but this?
“kimi, you know i can’t”
“please! no one will know! i swear!” he clasped his hands together and put on his best “sad puppy dog” look, but y/n didn’t buy it
“like how no one would ever know that you and ollie committed credit card fraud?”
“that was one time!” kimi knew he was screwed when they raised an eyebrow
he was thankful they were in his hotel room since y/n started listing all the things ( that she knew of ) he had promised to keep quiet about, but either told his friends or the entire internet.
“okay! okay! i know i suck at secrets, but please!”
“kimi —“
“please! i'm an f1 driver now! i don't have time like in f2 or f3!”
y/n sighed.
“please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please —“ they quickly interrupted him
“i'm not doing it —“
kimi physically deflated at this.
“but, i'll tell you what the answers are”
he perked up and instantly wrapped them in a tight hug
“thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you —“
“yeah, yeah, you're welcome”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
extra scene:
it was the tuesday after his trple header when kimi handed in all his work. the teaches praised him, despite the few wrongs answers ( “it'll be suspicious if you get them all right” y/n had said and he felt very offended by their words ).
“and they said i couldn't keep a secret” he scoffed internally while waiting for one of his teachers to finish marking his homework
“excellent work, kimi. glad you could keep up” he smiled and grabbed the sheets of paper
“thanks! y/n told me!”
• • •
“shit”
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fueledbysano · 1 year ago
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welcome! here at rent-a-boyfriend, we understand that everyone has unique needs and desires, which is why we signed up a roster of men to fit your preferences! whether you want to piss off your ex or need a date on that company event, our team of charming boyfriends are waiting for you!
♱ ft. chifuyu, baji, ran, rindou, hanma, shinichiro, wakasa
♱ content: fake dating, fluff, humor, romance. [ wakasa's: suggestive ].
♱ a/n: a lil warmup for everyone whom I wish I've written more of! a little idea I got while working on commissions so I'm indulging in it.
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Chifuyu Matsuno | 26 | PET SHOP OWNER | 5’6 | LOYAL
Jokingly entering a lottery for a luxury couple’s cruise, you were surprised to receive a notification saying that you were the lucky winner! You now have to find a “spouse” for the trip. You’ve considered your friends, but all of them probably have commitments already. And then on the day of the cruise, Chifuyu greets you with flowers. He was so much cuter and in front of you. You settled into your luxurious cabin and began the journey.
On your first night, you tried the fancy dinner aboard the ship, shared your favorite dishes and chatted about your childhood memories associated with food. It struck you when he mentioned he was formerly a gang member, as he certainly did not look like one. you also bonded over your shared love of animals and memories of having owned pets as children, while Chifuyu told you all about the interesting things about these pets.
You also enjoyed a masquerade ball; Chifuyu was not the best dancer but he was so gentle with his movements. He was nervous at first, unsure how to navigate the party, but with your guidance and reassuring touch, he gradually relaxed and even started to enjoy the activity. You took the lead, taking him to the rhythm. With your hands on his shoulders and movements in synchrony with his, you glided across the dance floor, lost in the music and in each other's company just like dinner. Chifuyu was impressed by your confidence and grace on the dance floor. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for that.
After a long day of exploring the ports and enjoying the activities on the cruise, you decided to unwind at the couple's spa. On the way there, the two of you even came up with a fake love story in case the masseuse asks— you were high school sweethearts. Inside the spa, you settled into adjacent massage tables, holding hands and enjoying the deep tissue massages that the spa offered. The oil worked its magic onto your bodies, and you turned to Chifuyu, who seemed to be holding his laughter from being ticklish. You smiled at him and chuckled as you made eye contact, letting him know that you didn’t mind. You couldn't help but notice Chifuyu's toned body. His toned back and arms were on full display, you felt yourself being attracted to him in a way you hadn't been before.
As the week went on, you and Chifuyu continued to learn more about each other while also participating in the cruise activities, all while pretending to be a couple. By the end of the cruise, Chifuyu couldn't deny the connection he felt with you, and he was surprised by the depth of his feelings for someone he had only just met. It was then that he realized that despite being the one who was rented for the vacation, it was he who truly rented your heart. So when you visited his pet shop, he couldn't deny the connection you had and was happy to see you again. It’s against the rules of the rent-a-boyfriend services, but he does not need that anymore and so do you.
Baji Keisuke | 26 | VET | 5’9 | TSUN-TSUN
As you prepared for your family's Christmas trip, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Your relatives were constantly badgering you about finding a partner, and the pressure to conform to their expectations was starting to wear you down. That's why when you heard about a service that could provide you with a pretend boyfriend, you saw it as the perfect opportunity to get your family off your back and enjoy the trip without the constant constant nagging.
When you met Baji, you were surprised at how charming and easygoing he actually was. He was exactly the kind of guy your family would approve of, and he was happy to play the role of your boyfriend. Both you and your family were struck by how handsome and charming he was. His tall, lean figure and stunning eyes made him look like a model, but his warm smile and how gentle he was with your family made him seem accessible and likable.
You found yourself growing nervous as the time went on, but Baji was quick to pick up on your discomfort and put you at ease. He asked questions about your family and interests, and he made you a drink before settling into your room for the night. Baji then joked and laughed about things your parents have told earlier, making sure to give you a sense of ease and comfort with him. After all, you will be going on a trip together. You knew that you were both putting on an act, but you couldn't deny his potential of being an actual partner.
So the trip began, Baji proved to be a great choice. He was friendly and outgoing, easily striking up conversations with your relatives. He quickly became a favorite especially to the children in your family, who were drawn to his playful nature and witty banter. He spent time playing with them, telling jokes and stories, and generally being a fun and engaging presence. He was so good at interacting with the children that they started calling him "big bro Baji". He simply made a positive impression on everyone. He even went out of his way to compliment the cooking and offer to help with luggages, and making sure that everyone was taken care of, especially you, even if it meant putting himself in second place.
On the last day of the trip, you find yourself wondering how he was so good at handling family members, and he was more than happy to explain that he had a close relationship with his own mother growing up. He also said that in his career, he had come to see his animal patients as members of his own family. He described how he would take the time to get to know each animal individually, talking to them in the veterinary clinic and taking them out to play and explore. He told you that he believed that the key to understanding and connecting with other beings was to see them as unique individuals, just like people.
You did miss Baji after the trip. He had made such an impact on your family members, especially the children, that he was brought up in conversations even after he was gone. Your parents asked about him, and his absence was noted by the young ones who had grown so fond of him. You found yourself thinking about him often and wondering what he was up to. The trip had been such a special experience for you, and you felt grateful for the time you had shared together. Even though your relationship had been temporary and arranged, you found yourself wishing that you could see him again and continue your connection. So when you called him up for a “rental” again, it was to your surprise when Baji answered with “Don’t worry, this one’s on me.”
Hanma Shuji | 28 | PHOTOGRAPHER | 6'4 | DAREDEVIL
You have been struggling to keep your ex-boyfriend at bay. Despite repeatedly asking him to leave you alone, he would still find a way to contact you, whether through social media or by showing up at your workplace or at your apartment. You were worried about the situation and wanted it to stop, so you decided to hire a pretend boyfriend to make your ex-boyfriend back off. You chose Shuji Hanma, a 28-year-old photographer with a charismatic and handsome look. He also had a rebellious streak that made him perfect to play the role.
Hanma's stylish motorcycle added to the spectacle of his arrival at your apartment. As you rode away, you noticed that your neighbors were staring, probably wondering who the mysterious man on the motorcycle was. It was the same case when you arrived at your workplace, your colleagues were equally curious about the identity of the mystery man who waited for you at the lobby.
Hanma was engrossed in his work in the lobby, concentrating on editing his photos on the computer screen. He noticed the faint sound of footsteps approaching. The sound grew closer, and Hanma looked up to see your ex-boyfriend walking towards the seats. Hanma was not impressed, and he almost immediately approached him. “Hello, I'm Shuji Hanma. You are…?”
“Uhm, Touri—desu.” He was confused, but shook Hanma’s hand anyway, which he regretted… Hanma’s grip was undeniably strong, which turned his skin to crimson. “You new here, huh?” Hanma tried to remain cool. “Eh, not exactly.” The guy shrugged, and Hanma scoffed and took his belongings. “Well, I'll be on my way.” He headed to the receptionist and spoke loud enough, “Good afternoon, can you please deliver a message to my girlfriend, Miss [ L / N ]? I have our lunch~” This was enough to grab your ex’s attention, and he was visibly confused and angered.
Hanma immediately escorted you off the elevator when you arrived, letting you know of your ex’s presence as he protectively put an arm around you. Which seemed to work, because he was only angrily standing there with a piercing glare. Hanma was inarguably intimidating with his fierce eyes and tall height. As you sat together for lunch, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. You knew that your ex-boyfriend was watching from a distance, witnessing you having a wonderful time with another man. Hanma also appeared to be enjoying the situation, and he kept up his loving and affectionate demeanor throughout the meal, like Hanma taking your hand and kissing it, feeding you, and simply looking like a real couple. When in reality, you were also talking about your day so far and telling each other about the usual get-to-know topics.
After you walked out the restaurant together, your ex stepped forward and started yelling about how you could move on and replace him. “And with this twig?! Come on [ Y / N ], is this the best you got?” He chuckled and attempted to reach your arm. As he continued his tirade, Hanma lost his patience and punched him in the face. You were shocked at your pretend-boyfriend's sudden burst of violence, but you had to admit that it was somewhat satisfying to see your ex take a hit. Hanma quickly pulled you away from the scene and kicked your ex’s stomach. “Who’s the twig now? If I see your face again, I'm going to break every bone in your body.” He spat and then led you back to your apartment.
Once you were inside, Hanma apologized for his behavior and assured you that he only wanted to protect you. Still a bit shaken, you knew that Hanma had been there for you, and he did his role perfectly. You forgave him for resorting to violence and appreciated how devoted he had been to you with a generous tip, to which he answered, “I’m not leaving without making sure that guy never comes back.” You were taken aback when he took a seat on the couch by your front door. “And don't worry about the rent thing ♡” He winked. You were pretty sure he just enjoyed beating your ex, but you got yourself a pretty damn good fake boyfriend/guard dog.
Rindou Haitani | 30 | CLUB OWNER | 5’8 | GENTLEMAN, BUT A LITTLE NAUGHTY
You were feeling a bit down about attending the wedding of a college friend without a plus one. Your friends were all in loving relationships, and you were tired of being the odd one out. Rindou was intrigued by the request and quickly agreed. He looked forward to the opportunity to spend the evening with you and to help you feel less awkward.
Rindou was a stickler for presentation, so he took it upon himself to choose an outfit that would make you feel confident and comfortable. He asked you about the theme of the event, the colors of the invitations, and any personal style preferences you had. Using this information, he was able to find a perfect ensemble for the evening.
When you arrived at the venue, you felt a new sense of confidence. The dress that Rindou got tailored was a perfect fit, and the shoes made you feel taller and more sophisticated. You knew that you looked good, and that made you feel even more comfortable mingling with the other guests. Rindou had been right, the outfit had boosted your confidence, and it showed while he was happily your arm candy. As you continued to make your way toward the main event, Rindou couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity with the place. He quickly realized that he was one of the co-owners of the venue, and had completely forgotten to mention it to you. He felt a bit sheepish about the oversight and did not make a big deal out of it.
However, it did come back to bite him in the ass later on. “Mr. Haitani?” The groom took notice of his presence when the couple visited your table. “Pleasure to meet you, I did not see you on the guest list. What a surprise!” They shook hands. “My girlfriend is here with me.” He smiled and held you closely. “You didn’t tell us that your boyfriend owned the venue, [ Y / N ]-chan!” WHen the bride said that, it seemed that the other guests on the table now seemed more interested in you. “How did you meet?” “Is there a ring yet?” It was a bit of a shockwave to you and your friends. Suddenly it seemed as though they were all more interested in you than they were before, and you felt a tinge of discomfort, which Rindou easily picked up on.
“Oh, shut up…you won’t even talk to her two minutes ago…” Rindou scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Wanna ditch?” You were touched by his offer, and gladly accepted. You needed a break from the endless talk about your friends' relationships, and it was nice to have a place to escape to for a little while. Rindou took you to the bar of his brother’s hotel nearby, where you were able to enjoy your own night just by yourselves without having to impress people who you barely know anymore. “Sorry for not telling you sooner, it was exactly what I was trying to avoid…” Rindou knew his way around a bar, and you found yourself in the perfect spot with him at your side. He explained the menu items and suggested a few different drinks that he thought you might enjoy, making sure to cater to your tastes. You felt grateful for his attention, and you appreciated how much effort he was putting into the conversation.
As you sat at the bar, you found yourself opening up more than you ever thought you would. You talked about your job,hobbies, and even a little bit about your past relationships. Rindou was a great listener, and he made you feel comfortable enough to share details that you had never told anyone before. You loved the fact that even though he was a complete stranger, he was genuinely interested in your life and experiences. While he also had a fair share of stories, especially the reason behind joining the rental services despite being a wealthy businessman… Rich people get bored sometimes too, you know…
You felt like you had known Rindou for much longer than just one evening. You couldn't believe how quickly the time had passed, and you found herself wishing that the night could go on forever. As they closed down the bar and left the reception, Rindou walked you to the suite he offered, and you found yourself wishing that you had the courage to ask him if he would like to see eachother again…
Ran Haitani | 31 | CLUB OWNER | 6'0 | BOLD
You have been using your “fiance” as an excuse to get out of uncomfortable situations or company gatherings, but now you are facing a dilemma. Your boss was hosting a company outing, and you knew that you couldn't use the same excuse again because he personally invited “your fiance”.
Thinking quickly, you reached out to Ran and asked him to play the part of your fiance for the whole trip. You were relieved when he agreed, knowing that he was the perfect person to accompany you to the event. Ran was charming, charismatic and extremely meticulous so you knew he would be able to sell the "fiance" ruse perfectly.
Ran likes to live life to the fullest, and he's not afraid to splash out on extravagant things. He's handsome, wealthy, and he has a way with the ladies. “You wanna make this more believable? I’ll take you on a date before our flight ♡” He took you to the finest restaurants and their club, and he insisted on paying for everything. He bought you clothes to bring to the trip, and you took a lot of photos together to show around. And he of course did not forget the fiance scheme and took you to Cartier for ring shopping. You were surprised by Ran's opulent lifestyle, but you were also drawn to his confidence and charm. He's not afraid to take risks or to try new things, and you feel like you can learn a lot from him.
On the day of the flight, you pulled up at the airport in his luxury sedan, dressed to the nines that truly made you look like the real deal. Ran was a smooth talker and a natural flirt, and he made you feel like the most important person in the world. And being the actor that he is, Ran smoothly introduced himself to your boss and colleagues. But you only gave them a glimpse of your ruse, because Ran had bumped your seats to first class where you praised each other for your acting.
During the trip, you were treated like a queen by Ran. He was always making sure your needs were met and that you were comfortable. He would hold your hand in public, carry your things, and go out of his way to make sure you were comfortable and well-cared for. You liked the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and the way he looked at you with a sparkle in his eye. You were constantly getting compliments on your clothing, accessories, and your perfect “fiance.” You knew it was all just an act, but you couldn't help but enjoy every minute of it. Ran was way too good.
One night, you and Ran spent the evening soaking in the bathtub on your hotel balcony, surrounded by the sounds of the sea and the stars sparkling above you. He uncorked a bottle of the finest champagne, enjoying the bubbly beverage as you talked about your actual lives. You took the opportunity to let loose and talk trash about your co-workers. Ran laughed and poked fun at their annoying habits and quirks as well, bonding over your shared experiences. Ran was a natural storyteller, sharing stories from his past and his dreams for the future.; while You were fascinated by his adventures and insights. In turn, you talked about your own hopes and dreams. Ran listened intently, offering advice and support where needed. The conversation flowed effortlessly, with no awkward silences or forced conversation.
Ran was a true professional, and he played his role as your fiance flawlessly throughout the trip. He remained attentive and gave you affection in front of everyone. You were impressed by his commitment to the bit and his ability to seamlessly slip into character and couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for him. He made you feel like you were the most important person in the world, and you were touched by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail.
You were seriously moved by Ran's dedication to the role, even as you said goodbye. He had played the part with such natural grace and ease that she had almost forgotten that it was all an act. You were grateful for his commitment to the bit and his attention to detail, and you enjoyed the fact that you had someone during the trip. “Come on, I can’t keep these.” With his gifts in your hands, you insisted. Of course, you could… But you thought it was polite to offer. Ran’s answer intrigued you, though… “Of course you can…” He chuckled and opened the door of your home. “We still have that wedding, right?” He winked and kissed your forehead before seeing his way out.
Shinichiro Sano | 36 | BIKE SHOP OWNER | 6'0 | CHIVALROUS
You had grown tired of your friends' incessant efforts to set you up on blind dates, with stupid college boys to make matters worse. You appreciated their well-meaning efforts, but you simply weren't interested in pursuing romantic relationships. And so you decided to seek the assistance of Shinichiro, hoping that his chivalrous disposition would be enough to convince your friends to lay off.
You decided that for the cover to be believable, you would need to go on a date with Shinichiro before hard-launching him to your friends. You also made sure that he was comfortable with playing the role and that you had a good rapport, but you had no idea what to do for your very real fake date. However, Shinichiro took the matter in his own hands and insisted you did not have to move a single joint.
You and Shinichiro arrived at the cafe of the main deck in Tokyo Tower, which offered breathtaking views of the city's skyline. You were seated at a corner table, giving a clear view of the vast expanse of lights and skyscrapers. It was a dreamy and romantic setting, enhanced by delicate table settings and soft music playing in the background.
Shinichiro treated you to a multi-course meal, where you savored a selection of traditional Japanese food. They were exquisite and perfectly prepared, and you couldn't help but be impressed by Shinichiro's good taste. You talked about everything and anything, from your childhood memories to your ongoing endeavors. Shinichiro was a good listener and made sure to ask thoughtful questions, ensuring that the conversation flowed smoothly. You were honestly impressed by his openness and genuine interest in you, and you found yourself sharing things that she had never shared with anyone else before. The conversation was so engrossing that you lost track of time, and it felt as though you had been talking for hours.
However, the motorcycle race of his little brother's team, "Top of Manji," was an exhilarating experience. You marveled at the skill and precision of the racers as they raced around the track at high speeds. Shinichiro's passion for mechanics was palpable, and he explained the intricacies of the race in detail. You were moved by his enthusiasm and felt grateful to have had the opportunity to share in such a unique experience, and it was genuinely warm to listen to Shinichiro talk about something he really loved.
And so the day arrived and you invited your friends for dinner at a restaurant you and Shinichiro had found, a Japanese izakaya that you thought they would enjoy. You had made a reservation for a medium table in the middle of the restaurant, where you would be surrounded by the lively atmosphere. After greetings and pleasantries, you finally introduced your friends to Shinichiro, revealing that he was your new boyfriend. They were all visibly surprised by the revelation, but Shinichiro turned on his charm, making small talk and engaging in witty banter with your friends. He was so natural at it, making everyone feel comfortable and included. You couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for his presence and for the support he had shown you thus far.
Shinichiro was very affectionate towards you, making sure to pay attention to your needs and feelings. He cut your food, poured your drinks, and wiped the side of your lips. And as the evening wore on and the temperature dropped, he took off his jacket and casually offered it to you. It was relieving to see that your friends were starting to warm up to Shinichiro. They were impressed by his chivalry, intelligence, and sense of humor.
As the evening went on, she and Shinichiro grew more comfortable with each other, exchanging smiles and sharing inside jokes. Although your friends were initially skeptical about Shinichiro at first, however, as they spent more time with him, they began to see what she saw in him. They noticed his chivalrous nature and how he treated you with “love and respect”. They were impressed by his ability to hold a conversation and how engaging he was. They praised you for finding a good boyfriend and expressed their support for your relationship. This made you feel touched and felt grateful for their encouragement.
Shinchiro was an older man, but he carried himself with a youthful energy that was contagious. He had a kind heart and a charismatic smile, making it easy for you to feel at ease with him. He was a gentleman, always using polite language and good manners, but he also had a bit of mischief in him. He loved to make jokes and banter with you, and he always had a twinkle in his eye that made you smile. The dinner was a hit, and you were thrilled to see your friends enjoying themselves so much.
Maybe it was the fact that Shinichiro was older than the guys you previously dated and even older than yourself, but you actually enjoyed the extra attention and care that Shinichiro gave, as compared to your previous dates. You found yourself beginning to fantasize about having a real boyfriend like him, who would pamper and take care of you in the same way. It was a nice feeling to have someone who seemed to genuinely care about you, and you were grateful for the experience of dating him, even if it was just a temporary arrangement. Or will he allow it to remain that way?
Wakasa Imaushi | 36 | GYM OWNER | 5'3 | NONCHALANT
Wakasa Imaushi was the perfect person for your plan to win back your ex. He was charming, confident, and seemed to know how to treat a woman. Your plan was to make your ex jealous by spending time with Wakasa and having you paint a picture of a perfect couple.
He was impressed with your predictions on the whereabouts of your exes, and he was always ready to hop on your antics. Wakasa was a natural at billiards, while you considered yourself to be a bit of a novice. Despite this, he was patient with you and taught you the basics, guiding you through each shot. As you played, you stood closely together, with his hand on your back as he showed you how to grip the cue. As you finished up your game, you noticed your ex watching you from across the room, clearly jealous of the attention Wakasa was giving you. This only seemed to fuel Wakasa's desire to treat you like a princess, and up his game for your next “dates”.
As you waited outside your office building, you spotted Wakasa pulling up on a sports bike. It was obviously a labor of love for him, and it was clearly a statement piece— beautiful paint job, modifications, and powerful engines. He even got you your own helmet, and as you took a seat on the back of the bike, Wakasa revved the engine and took off down the road. You couldn't help but notice the looks of envy and jealousy from your ex-partner. You had always admired his bike, which was pretty decent, but Wakasa's was on another level. It was entirely his idea, knowing that it would take a hit on your ex’s ego. Which was right— he couldn't help but feel jealous of Wakasa and his newfound ability to make you happy and sent you a pretty petty text later on that day.
You eagerly showed Wakasa the text from your ex, and his reaction was everything you had hoped for. His expression turned into a proud smirk, and he leaned in closer to you as he read the text. You felt a sense of joy knowing that she had the upper hand in the situation and that your ex was feeling a sense of jealousy. No one could even see the two of you right now, but you were hanging out together in his gym, seemingly having a blast together. As part of your workout routine, Wakasa finds himself beginning to focus on helping you train, providing guidance and assistance as you lift weights. He was attentive and supportive, helping you with your form and demonstrating proper technique. Wakasa found himself enjoying the process and the feeling of coaching someone. You appreciated his guidance and support, and she felt a sense of satisfaction as you lifted heavier weights than you've ever had before…
“Don't fall in love with me, [ Y / N ]...” He made eye contact with you through the mirror as he held your waist. “Shut up.”
One particular day when you got off early at work, you and Wakasa found yourselves on a night out at his favorite drinking place, sipping drinks and enjoying each other's company. As they sat in the dimly lit bar, their conversation grew more intimate, personal, and playful, laughing and teasing each other. With the alcohol flowing, your inhibitions began to slip away, and before you knew it, you were locked in a deep, passionate kiss while you sat on his lap.
You were both surprised by the spontaneous kiss and felt your heart racing as you and Wakasa shared an intimate moment. “You’re making a mistake.” “Probably.” “Definitely…” You remained close together, not wanting to break apart just yet. The kiss was long and passionate, and it seemed to last forever. As you finally pulled away from each other, you both felt a sense of emptiness, wanting more of each other but unsure of what to do next.
As you woke up in Wakasa's place the next day, the reality of the previous night's events started to sink in. You realized that you had made a mistake in giving in to your urges, but at the same time, you couldn't help but want to continue doing it. You were hesitant at first, unsure of how to approach Wakasa about what happened, but you found herself drawn to him anyway. You knew that your relationship was still temporary and that you couldn't let your feelings get in the way of your agreement. Despite this, you found yourselves wanting to spend more time with him, both in your ruse and outside of it, all while pretending to Wakasa’s face that this still meant nothing.
It is certainly not common for a boyfriend-for-rent to give you a monthsary gift. Such gifts are typically given by a long-term romantic partner, or someone who is seeking a long-term relationship. Since the arrangement with Wakasa is meant to be temporary and was not originally intended to last longer than a few weeks or a months, it would not be expected for him to give you such a present. So you were surprised when Wakasa presented you with a small gift for your one-month anniversary. You were touched by the gesture, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt knowing that you shouldn't be developing feelings for him…
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ㅤㅤthank you for renting our boyfriends! did you catch feelings? we don't care! as long as you come back to see them again ;)
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thirteenheavens · 22 days ago
Note
svt reaction when you sent them a short video of you pulling your shirt up exposing your bare chest for them while they are at work
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Video Surprise||OT13 Seventeen React
Notes: okay maybe I kinda love writing reactions…
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Seungcheol:
The video you sent arrives at an unexpected moment during practice. Seungcheol's phone buzzes, and when he checks it, he nearly drops it. He watches your chest in the video for several seconds before quickly switching to do not disturb mode. His cheeks flush red as he tries to maintain composure. After a moment, he shoots you a text: "You can't just send things like that when I'm trying to work... But goddamn, you're driving me crazy."
Jeonghan:
Jeonghan sees your video while scrolling through his phone during a break in practice. His eyes widen, and he lets out a low whistle. "Naughty girl," he types back, "You're making it hard to focus on anything else right now." He quickly looks around to make sure no one else is watching before opening the video again, biting his lip as he admires the view.
Joshua:
Joshua is at a vocal practice when he receives your video. His hand trembles slightly as he presses play. "Y-Y/N..." he murmurs under his breath, his face flushing red. He quickly turns away from the others, pretending to check his phone. Later, when he has a moment alone, he sends you a voice message: "You're lucky I'm not there right now... I'd be all over you. And yes, you definitely look perfect."
Jun:
Jun is in the middle of recording his part for a new song when your video comes through. He checks his phone discreetly and nearly chokes. "Damn it, you can't just send me this while I'm working," he types back, though his eyes keep returning to the video. He adjusts his position in the recording booth, clearly affected by what he's seen. "You're going to pay for this later, you know that?"
Hoshi:
Hoshi is practicing choreography with the others when your video comes through. He fumbles a step when he notices the notification. "Hold on, I need a minute," he calls to the group, rushing to a corner of the practice room. His eyes widen as he watches, and he lets out an appreciative whistle. "This better be just for me," he texts back, "because I'm going to need more of this later."
Wonwoo:
Wonwoo is sitting in the recording studio when your video arrives. He raises an eyebrow at the notification but can't help his curiosity. He watches it once, then again more slowly, his breathing becoming slightly heavier. Afterward, he sends you a short message: "Come to the studio tonight after everyone leaves. I want to see that in person."
Woozi:
Woozi is composing in his studio when he receives your video. His eyes darken with desire as he watches. "That was bold," he types, "I like it. And now I'm picturing all sorts of things I want to do to you." He leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the desk as he contemplates his response. "Maybe I should send you something special in return... something that'll make you even more eager for tonight."
Minghao:
Minghao is in the middle of painting when your video comes through. He sets his brush down and takes a moment to compose himself. "You're trying to distract me, aren't you?" he texts, though there's no real annoyance in his tone. "Your skin looks so soft... I want to trace every inch of it with my hands." He sends you a picture of his canvas - a detailed sketch of your body - with the caption: "I couldn't resist capturing some inspiration. But trust me, the real thing is much better."
Mingyu:
Mingyu is in the gym when your video arrives, lifting weights with his shirt off. He checks his phone and nearly drops the dumbbell. "This isn't fair," he types, "I'm trying to work out but all I can think about now is you." He sends a mirror selfie of himself, shirtless and glistening with sweat, with the message: "I guess we could work out together sometime. Just in a more private setting."
Dokyeom:
Dokyeom is doing vocal warmups when your video comes through. He's in the middle of a high note when he sees it and misses the note completely. "Y/N, you're going to get me in trouble!" he texts, "I can't stop thinking about your voice right now." He glances around to make sure no one noticed his slip, then adds: "I might need some special vocal practice tonight to make up for this distraction. You in?"
Seungkwan:
Seungkwan is practicing his lines when your video comes through. He watches it with intense focus, his breathing becoming heavier. "This is pure torture," he texts, "I'm supposed to be concentrating but all I can picture is running my hands all over you." He paces around his room, clearly agitated by the interruption. "When I get my hands on you later, you're going to regret teasing me like this."
Vernon:
Vernon is playing video games when your video arrives. He pauses the game and watches it twice through, a smirk spreading across his face. "Baby, you're asking for it now," he texts, "I hope you're ready for the consequences of sending me this." He stands up from his gaming chair and adjusts his pants, clearly affected by your video. "I'm heading to your place in an hour. Better make sure you're ready for me."
Chan:
Chan is at a dance practice when your video arrives. He excuses himself to the restroom and locks himself in a stall. "Damn, I'm so hard right now," he texts, "I can't believe you sent this during practice. I'm going to have to sneak out early." He takes a shaky breath and sends another message: "Meet me at the dorms in 20. I need to see you now."
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suhlogic · 1 year ago
Text
cold sweat [kim mingyu x fem!oc]
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warnings: fwb, sexual tension, size kink, creampie, manhandling, daddy kink, overstimulation, mingyu is really touchy, dom!mingyu, sub!reader, fingering, unprotected sex , porn with little plot , body worship, pussy-eating, car sex , a bit of a self-indulgent fic
you and mingyu have been friends since your senior year of high school. the two of you were as thick as thieves, it didn’t matter if there was the risk of being separated in college— you two would always find each other during holidays and summer breaks in your hometown. but there was just one problem: you were falling hard and fast for the one and only kim mingyu. your mingyu who’s six feet and two inches tall of pure happiness and sweet disposition, the one who’d drop everything for you whenever you’re down, the person who was always cheering you on, and not to mention how handsome he is with his tan skin and prominently defined arms with his toned back as wide as the pacific ocean and those toned abs— but god, his smile and his contagious laugh that you could just constantly put on repeat no matter what time of day it is has you secretly pining away for your best friend. 
being physically intimate with him was not an uncharted territory  for the two of you, it just sort of happened one time when he came home drunk to your place and stumbled on your bed falling into a deep slumber as he cuddled you close in his hazy state. but you two never really brought up that night ever again, it did not matter if you two were sober or not, one of you would always offer cuddles and maybe a few stolen kisses in between especially when the both of you were stressed over schoolwork. it didn’t take that long for you to notice that mingyu was initiating them more often but repressed the thought that he could actually like you because you were just silly old you— always the best friend, never the girlfriend. but, little did you know, he fell first for you. of course he’d never admit that for the sake of protecting the friendship.
[10:00PM]
it was already late at night and you couldn’t stop tossing and turning in your bed so you decided to get up and shower to get ready for the 24/7 gym just near your apartment complex. after getting your things prepared, you decided to ring up mingyu to join you on your workout—or as he calls it, “gymscapade” for when you both get so stressed you need to work out a sweat. he picks up after two rings, voice clearly woken up from a deep slumber. “hey, what’s up?” he replies, “would you wanna go workout with me right now?” you ask, hoping he’s not too lazy in the confines of his bed on the other line.  “yeah, just let me get ready in a bit. call you soon when i’m there.” he says with a yawn. “okay, just meet me at the gym near my place just so i can get a good warmup.” you say as the both of you exchange your goodbyes. 
you make it to the gym not long after and decided to unzip your jacket halfway through your warmup. you were actually the only one in the gym since it was already quite late. while working up a sweat on the lat pulldown machine, you saw mingyu from the corner of your eye entering wearing  grey sweatpants and a compression tank top. he starts to warm up for a bit as you went to where he was, “what are you going to do today?” he asked, stretching out his arms. “i’ll just do a few upper and lower body workouts, maybe squeeze in some lifting too,” you say, as you take a sip from your water bottle. it never really struck you how handsome mingyu was until as of late, it just wasn’t in the books for the two of you to actually get together or even fuck at the very least but knowing how tiny and short you were compared to his huge, tall frame made you run a bit hot and wet down there. 
“care to spot me while i do bench presses?” he says as he takes off the dumbbells from the racks. you could barely lift what he pressed, it’s almost all-consuming seeing mingyu lay on the bench while you looked down at him as he lifted and praising him every time he’d do it. this position was not good for your health, all you could ever think about was him eating you out whenever he would moan out of exertion. you still had a few sets on the lat pulldown machine to go and asked him to spot you, to help you with your form since he was going to the gym longer than you have been. 
mingyu couldn’t stop looking at you. your hair up in a messy ponytail, wearing a cute workout set with just a pastel pink sports bra with tight-fitting compression shorts of the same color. you were so oblivious yet fucking obvious about how bad you wanted your friend to fuck you and he saw right through it. the way your skin would suddenly feel warm under his touch or how you’d hide the hitches in your breath whenever he was too close to you while he observes your workouts. as you were doing your set, he was behind you closing the gap between you two as he made sure you were feeling the burn in all the targeted muscles. as he lowered down to your level on the seat, your back brushed against his crotch and felt something huge and hard. “good girl, just one more and you’re done.” he whispered lowly in your ear as you exhaled when you let go of the bar in an upwards motion. 
as the two of you were helping each other finish workouts, he couldn’t help but gaze into your eyes with a hidden intent and leaned in for a kiss which made you set your dumbbells down on the floor with a loud thud booming through the room. it took you aback and you pulled away from the kiss, mingyu was shocked at your action and stared at you with wide eyes. “i’m sorry i couldn’t help it ever since that night i never stopped thinking about you.” he says, as you pulled him in closer and kissed him harder as your tongues became entangled. “jump,” he whispers as he starts to carry you. fuck, it was really hot seeing him take the lead and it made you weaker for him than ever before. he puts you down before you could even leave hickeys on his neck, “y/n, i’m not going to fuck you here, let me be a gentleman and take you back to my place,” he says with a mischievous smile, lips red and swollen from the steamy makeup session. 
both of you grabbed your things and went inside his car, the tension was hot and heavy as his hand were rubbing your thigh further riling you up while he drove through the quiet streets of the city with you weak and submissive under his touch.    it was something that set your insides on fire— seeing mingyu’s hand veins pop out from gripping the steering wheel hard resisting himself from pulling over and fucking you in the nearest empty parking lot he could find. as soon as the stoplight turned red, he looked over at you with a menacing smirk. “god, you just look so pretty and desperate for me, huh?”
you couldn’t help but be more turned on as you felt your core get wetter just because of his words and before you knew it, he was taking off your seatbelt for you and leaning in for a desperate kiss with his tongue exploring your mouth as if he had been waiting for this moment. “go in the backseat, now” he said in between breaths while still cupping your face, his usual kind and bright eyes, now filled with lust and a dominating gaze desperately telling you how bad he wanted this. as you made your way into the back, he followed suit and did not waste time taking off your bra showing off your huge boobs, its buds already hardened from the cold air. he smirked as you whined at how he took your nipples between his fingers and played with them, mingyu then sat you on his lap and felt his manhood through his sweatpants as you were just only left in your tight shorts that were clearly thin. “princess, you look so pretty like this. all naked and wet for daddy, huh?” he whispered as you began to grind your clothed pussy on his hard dick, just more wanting more from him. craving mingyu like he was the kind of drug you needed, so intoxicating yet so worth the risk. 
with lust-filled eyes, mingyu looked up at you and pulled you in for a rough kiss, tongues tied with one another. as he pulled away once more, he started to leave love bites all over your neck and chest not giving a fuck who sees it— all he knows is that you're his by day's end. his rough hands began to roam your body and unclasped your bra skillfully letting your huge tits be free. his mouth immediately latched onto your tit while his fingers began to rub the nipple in between the other one.
"fuck, daddy please i wanna feel you inside," you moaned. he just smirked as he began to flip you onto the backseat so he'd be on top of you. "patience, angel, good girls get to cum." he whispers through gritted teeth, grinding his hard cock on your pussy, still clothed yet the thong you wore hardly doing anything to cover the wetness. as mingyu goes down on you to take off your underwear, he leaves kisses on your stomach and hips, "god, you look so gorgeous fucked out for me, why didn't we fuck sooner?" he moans in between kisses. he inserts two of his fingers inside your dripping pussy, "so fucking tight for me, yeah, can't wait for my dick to be inside hm?"  he says as you could  just lose all sense of rationality with how good he is with his fingers. he then lowers his head down in between your thighs and eats you out, licking your clit as if he's a starved man. 
"daddy, please i'm so fucking close," you whine, tears of pleasure filling your eyes. mingyu proceeds to insert three of his fingers and fucked you faster with it, his long and thick digits began to curl inside, "you like being a slut for me yeah? who fucking owns you?" he moans, "you daddy, please.. gyu.. .more," you say as he coaxes you into your first orgasm. he takes out his fingers, your cum coating his fingers as he proudly licks and sucks them off with pride with a devilish smirk. "you taste so sweet, angel... " he says as you begin to claw at the waistband of his  sweatpants, desperate to feel his dick inside you. he smirks at how helpless you look and removes his bottoms along with his boxers, his hard, long dick standing in its full glory slapping against his chiseled abs,  as its girth makes you wonder how it could fit inside of you.
"will it fit, gyu?" you ask in a small voice. "oh, we'll make it fit, princess, i've prepped you enough yeah?" he begins to jack off his dick preparing to put it inside. "fuck, you look so small for me, all for me..so pretty spread out like this," he moans as he teases the tip of his dick in between your folds and slowly thrusts it inside of you. "fuck...my god gyu so fucking good, please...move," you whine as he begins to slowly move inside of you taking his sweet time to be inside of you. god knows how fucking long he waited to have you like this, you just looked so angelic and slutty under him, it took everything in him to not fill you to the brim with his cum right there. his hands tightly gripped your waist as he pounded into you faster, feeling how big he is inside, hitting the tip of your cervix. you put your arms around the nape of his neck as you pull him in for a passionate kiss, hands roaming around his toned upper back leaving scratches on it as your nails dig into its broad surface. 
you feel his thrusts get faster and deeper as he began to rub your clit helping you to also reach your second orgasm, "i'm fucking close baby, " he moans as his thrusts get sloppier. "cum..inside..me..it's okay,'m on the pill daddy"you whine out as you two feel each other's release, his cum mixed with yours dripping down your thighs. mingyu pulled out as he reached into the glovebox compartment for a box of tissue helping you clean up. "fuck...what just happened?" he asks, giggling. "we fucked," you laugh as he pulls you closer to him in the tight space with the steam-filled windows from the sex earlier. "so...i like you..a fucking lot," he starts as he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours and kisses your forehead, "yeah, i do too gyu," you smile as you pull him in closer for another kiss, this time full of love and gentleness. "let's go home and finish what we started, yeah?" he says while you two begin to get dressed up and drive back to his place for the night. 
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theelvishfiddler · 11 months ago
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AN ARTIST'S GUIDE TO HANDS
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No, sorry it's actually not an artist's guide to drawing hands. Those are just warmup studies (which I'll talk about in this post.)
This is a guide to Your Hands and how to take care of them when making art.
No one ever sits down and teaches artists how to take care of their hands. They didn’t even teach me this while I was in art college. This is just what I've learned myself through years of pain and scouring the internet for advice.
This is going to be a long one and geared towards illustrative traditional/digital/pen/pencil artists specifically, but artists of other mediums and crafts should take care of their hands too! Well, we all should take care of our bodies in general, but this is about hands.
(advice is below the read more)
First off I'm not a professional or anyone with actual medical advice. I'm just some guy with chronic hand pain who makes art. This advice is free for you to use or discard.
WARMUPS!
Ever sit down in the morning to draw and wonder why your art is so stiff and looks so much worse than what you were drawing last night? It's because you didn't warm up!
You know how for physical sports they all warmup and do stretches before getting into the actual sport. To prevent injuries and all that? Yeah, it's good to do that for art too.
One way to warmup is to just draw lines. Try to keep them as straight as you can. Going up and down and diagonal. Draw squares. Big squares. Small squares. Circles! You are warming up, keep it loose and relaxed! Basically just scribble away.
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(examples. I usually keep going until there is no paper white left. This can double as practice for drawing straight lines without a ruler, which is a great skill to have when freehand city drawing.)
Before hopping right into drawing people you can try doing some quick gesture drawings. Line of Action has timed sessions with a large variety of clothed or nude models. I usually do the 30 min class as it has a nice balance of short and long timed poses. The point isn't to draw nice art, but to warm up. Try to get the basic form down, not the details. I find that doing a full class session can really help my drawings feel more loose and grounded in reality for the rest of the day.
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Some examples I found in my folders. I suggest looking into what a line of action (not the site) is and giving it a try with some of the studies!
COOLDOWNS!
For sports it's to return your body back to your everyday baseline after a workout.
Example; you are working on a big project! A masterpiece! It's detailed and cool! You have been focusing on this for hours and drawing so intensely. But you need to stop working for the day.
A cooldown is for winding down out of the go go go mindset. Put away the big project and do a couple small doodles and sketches. You are relaxing your hand and letting it stretch out. Keep the sketches loose. Let the art happen slowly. Don't polish anything, that can happen another day. Just ease yourself out of drawing.
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...
Cool! Now we get into the meat of this thing.
HAND PAIN
How to avoid it and how to manage it if you already have it.
I love you artists and creatives, I am begging you to please take care of your most important creative tools. I really don't want this to sound like scare tactics like "oooh you better do this or blah blah!" Nope. I just had to learn all this the hard way and I'm extremely passionate about it.
Take this advice or don’t ╮(゚~゚;)╭ I can't tell you what to do, I'm not your dad
Adjustments and Small Solutions
If you are feeling physical discomfort while drawing there are many different solutions to try! Here are some suggestions that may or may not work for you.
Hold your pencil more loosely. Stop gripping that thang so tightly!!! Relax that hand! They make these… squishy pen grip things... I think they are called Adaptive Pencil Grips or Adaptive Writing/Drawing Aids? They stop your hand from being all cramped up by making your drawing tool wider. It's going to take a bit of time to adjust to drawing with it, but it's worth it for those who hold pencils too tightly.
Don't press as heavily. For traditional art, if you find yourself pressing really hard to get darker lines try moving to a softer pencil. Most standard pencils are HB, the B pencils have softer graphite. Experiment until you find the right one for you. For Digital, adjust your pressure settings so you don't have to press as hard to get thicker lines. You should not be pressing so hard all the time, it wears out both your hand and your tablet! It takes a bit of time to adapt to pencil or pressure changes. Try doing some unimportant sketches, they don't have to be good. You are just training your hand and mind to adjust using less pressure.
Draw with your arm and not your wrist! It's small repetitive motions that cause the most strain. You probably hear this one a lot, what does it even mean? It means moving your arm with the motions of your line, and trying not to make too many tiny movements with your just your fingers or wrist. This one is hard! It takes time and conscious thought to change the habit. Tips? Work bigger. Zoom in more. Use bigger sheets of paper.
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(Motions exaggerated for a clearer example)
Change the angle of your drawing surface. They make angled tablet holders, angled desks, angled desktop raisers. Experiment, find and angle that is comfortable and the one that causes the least pain. (It's also good to make sure you don't have to hold your head at an uncomfortable angle when drawing. Staring straight down or hunching over a paper flat on the table can cause pain!)
Compression Glove? Wrist brace/tensioners? Some folks use them and I've been thinking of getting one for years now. I can't give advice on this one, because I don't have experience with it. Look into it if you want!
Managing Pain
First things first.
IF YOUR HANDS START TO HURT WHILE YOU ARE DRAWING. STOP! Put the pencil/pen/paintbrush/whatever down. The art will still be there for you to continue tomorrow.
I know from experience that it's extremely hard to pull away when you are hyper focused on an art piece. It's hard to remember all sorts of basic needs like food or bathroom when hyper focused. But you Need to stop when you feel that pain. (Preferably even before the pain…)
Take Breaks! Let your hands rest when you can. Just like a machine, if you don't schedule maintenance, the machine will schedule maintenance for you. Often that means having to wait a few days for it to return to functional. Best to take a day off from heavy usage or take an occasional 30 min break throughout the day to let your hands rest.
Stretching is important! Full body stretches are good; your arms, shoulders, neck, and spine are all connected, but I'm specifically talking about HAND and wrist stretching. There are a lot of stretches and massages for carpal tunnel and arthritis out there. I find they work for hand pain in general. Move into and out of each stretch slowly. Do not push a stretch if it hurts!! Be gentle!!
I am not a qualified professional and I will not be giving out specific stretches (that is beyond my personal comfort level). There are other artists out there who have made helpful stretching info-graphics which are cool, but I will not be because i don't want to be responsible for someone accidentally hurting themself. Ask your doctor for stretches & advice or look some up on your own.
Don't feel bad about forgetting to stretch frequently! Of course it is good to do it regularly and frequently, but I would be a hypocrite if I said that I remember to stretch daily. Setting timers for stop and stretch sessions can work for some people, but also doing stretches whenever you remember is fine! If you are sitting on the toilet you can idly do some hand stretches. On the bus? Laying in bed? At the beach? Do a couple stretches! Even just once a week is better than… nonce a week.
Using Cold or Heat to treat pain. If you really overdid it, put your hands in some cold water or wrap a cloth around an ice pack and apply it to your hand. Cold works best for me, but warmth works for others. This is just pain reduction and reducing inflammation from overuse! This is not a permanent solution.
If your hand hurts a lot! Frequently! Talk to your doctor? Idk mine has never given real advice. Just gently poked my hand and told me there isn't much to be done about it :/ but there are really good doctors out there who will care and give helpful advice!
Again. IF IT HURTS TO CONTINUE DRAWING. STOP DRAWING! This is not a "no pain no gain" type situation. Drawing so much that you hurt yourself isn't noble, it's just… limiting yourself. You only get one set of hands. These things are very handy to have.
Other Advice
Things I couldn't figure out how to fit into the earlier sections.
Your other hand can't handle the strain! Lets say you hurt your drawing hand... the other hand is right there free to use for art. Right? Wrong. Your other hand can't keep up with the demand, it hasn't been trained to the same extent as your dominant hand, it does not have the built up muscle. If you want to use that hand for drawing you are going to have to use it s l o w l y and train it bit by bit over a long period of time. When I tore a tendon in my right hand I decided to just keep drawing with my left and I got Really Good at it. It only took like two months before my left hand hurt too much to move. Then I had 0 functioning hands to pull up my pants. Not fun!!
People who draw on phones. That is extremely impressive! I'm amazed by the things people can create on such a small space. But phone artists are the ones I see most frequently mentioning hand pain. please please please make sure you are taking breaks. Would a stylus work instead of using a finger?
Outside of Drawing. Sometimes it's things outside of drawing that are causing the pain. For me there are multiple sources, but I also have tiny baby hands. Holding a phone too long causes pain. The handheld mode for my Switch causes A Lot of pain. The way my hand rests while typing on my laptop hurts! Playing tense videogames for too long hurts! Find the source of your pain and make some changes. The same things will apply to most; take regular breaks, do some stretches, and find soft things to prop up or rest your arms on.
Change your Artstyle. This one is more of a last resort. You might have to change your art style if you are getting sharp pains every time you draw. I loved drawing tight clean lines and many small fancy details, but drawing like that left me in so much pain at the end of the day. In 2023 I had to take the better part of year off from illustrations just to learn how to sketch and draw more loosely. I had to learn how to be gentle. To stop gripping my pencil so tightly. Learn! Adapt! You might discover a new style that you love even more!
A lot of this stuff gets more complicated in a work setting where you have to draw fast and long in order to get paid. Things like reducing your workload can help, but that can be... financially rough. But outside of that, it’s ok to be a slow artist. Going full steam and hurting yourself is not worth it.
Aaaaaanyway, thats all folks. Today's rant brought to you by me! The guy with chronic hand pain who always forgets to stretch! The guy who got frustrated with a sketch yesterday and decided to push to keep drawing for just one more hour! The guy who woke up this morning and had to spend 2 hours massaging and stretching their hands. The guy who probably shouldn't have typed all of this out because ooww ow ouch
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If your hands do hurt, it's going to be ok! You don't need to be a speed demon who draws all the time. It's ok to take your time and take frequent breaks. You are going to do great things! Just be gentle with yourself...
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yvaineseleneposts · 1 month ago
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Eyes on you
A/N: Filth.. that's what this is. It started with a plot but after a while... it became smut
Requested: no
Pairing: Nico Hischier x Reader
Words: 8k
Warning(s): smut
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Hockey wasn’t really my thing. I barely knew the rules. But when my two best friends begged me to come to a New Jersey Devils game — "because omg, Jack Hughes is so hot" — I didn’t have much of a choice.
I wore a plain black hoodie and jeans, feeling totally underdressed compared to my friends, who were decked out in jerseys and glittery face paint. They buzzed with excitement, pointing out players during warmups, while I leaned back in my seat, scrolling through my phone.
Until something — someone — caught my eye.
Down on the ice, a player in a red jersey with the number 13 skated lazily by the boards. His helmet was off, revealing messy brown hair and a boyish, insanely handsome face. He was talking to a teammate, laughing — but then he glanced up at the stands. Right at me.
I quickly looked away, heat rushing to my cheeks.
He’s probably just looking around, I told myself. Not at you.
But when I risked another glance, there he was again. Smirking. And then — a wink. Quick and casual, like it was nothing.
"Are you even paying attention?" one of my friends asked, nudging me.
"No," I said honestly, still staring.
Warmups ended, and the game started. I tried to focus on the puck, on the noise, the crowd, the action. But every time number 13 — Nico Hischier, I realized from the jumbotron — skated by our side of the rink, he glanced up at me. More than once. Sometimes he’d send a crooked smile. Other times, a quick wink. I even caught him adjusting his helmet with exaggerated slowness, like he was showing off.
My friends noticed eventually.
"Is Nico Hischier flirting with you?" one of them hissed, wide-eyed.
"I—I don’t know," I stammered, feeling like I was about to spontaneously combust.
The Devils ended up winning, and when the final buzzer sounded, the players flooded the ice to celebrate. Most waved at the crowd, tossing pucks and sticks to the fans. Nico skated right to the boards, directly beneath where I was sitting. He looked up, helmet tucked under his arm, and shot me a grin that could’ve melted ice.
Then, without hesitating, he pointed right at me — you — and tossed a puck up into the stands. It landed perfectly in my lap.
A note was taped to it.
"Meet me by the players' entrance? :) –Nico"
I blinked. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. My friends were screaming. I could barely breathe.
All I could think was, I don't even know how hockey works... but I think I just scored.
The entire walk to the players' entrance felt unreal. My heart was hammering against my ribs, my palms were sweating, and I couldn’t stop glancing down at the puck in my hands like it might disappear.
"This is insane," one of my friends said for probably the tenth time. "Go!" the other one nudged me forward, practically shoving me toward the small group of people waiting by the ropes.
Security guards stood nearby, only letting a few people through. Some had backstage passes, others looked like family. I hovered awkwardly at the side, unsure if I should even be here.
But then the door opened — and there he was.
Nico. Still in his gear, though his helmet and gloves were gone. His dark hair was damp, curling slightly at the edges, and there was a soft flush on his cheeks from the game. He scanned the small crowd once, and then his eyes landed on me. Instantly, a slow, devastating smile spread across his face.
Before I could even react, he jogged over.
"Hey," he said, his accent making the simple word sound ten times more attractive.
"Hi," I managed, my voice way too small.
He laughed softly, like he could see right through my nerves. "You got my puck?"
I held it up wordlessly, feeling like a complete idiot. He chuckled again, then reached out, his fingers brushing over mine as he took the puck for a second — just to turn it in his hand and show me the note still taped underneath.
"Good," he said, eyes sparkling. "I wasn’t sure you’d come."
"You... were actually looking at me?" I blurted before I could stop myself.
He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just for me. "Yeah. I was hoping you’d notice."
Every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire.
For a moment, we just stood there, grinning at each other like idiots. Then he shifted the puck back into my hands, his fingers lingering a little longer this time.
"So..." he said, almost shyly, "Would you wanna maybe grab a coffee? Or... something less sweaty than this?" He gestured at his gear with a sheepish smile.
I laughed — real and breathless. "I'd like that."
His grin widened. "Good. Give me ten minutes? I’ll be right back."
And just like that, he was gone — jogging back inside, throwing a playful wink over his shoulder. I stood there clutching the puck to my chest, completely dazed, as my friends squealed behind me.
I had no idea what I'd just gotten myself into. But for once... I was really excited to find out.
I sat in the corner of a small café a few blocks from the arena, still clutching the puck Nico had given me like it was a good luck charm. My friends had peeled off — after way too much giggling and dramatic winking — leaving me alone to process the insane fact that Nico Hischier, actual NHL captain, had asked me out.
The bell above the door chimed, and my heart immediately kicked into overdrive.
He walked in, freshly showered and changed into a black hoodie and jeans, looking unfairly good. His hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends, and even without the gear, he had that same confident, effortless energy that had me hooked from the second I saw him on the ice.
He spotted me instantly and grinned, walking over with that easy, athletic stride.
"Hey," he said, sliding into the seat across from me. His knee brushed mine under the table, and I forgot how to breathe for a second.
"Hi," I managed, smiling way too big.
Up close, he was even more ridiculous. His skin still had that post-shower glow, and I couldn't stop thinking about how he looked earlier — messy hair, sweaty, flushed from the game, laughing and winking at me like he knew exactly what he was doing.
I shifted in my seat, feeling my face heat up.
"You warm?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eye.
"Maybe a little," I mumbled, hoping he couldn’t read my mind.
He laughed — low and smooth — and leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs so they nudged mine again, deliberately this time.
"So," he said, tapping his fingers against the table, "You a big hockey fan, or...?"
"Not really," I admitted, smiling sheepishly. "My friends dragged me. They're obsessed with your teammates."
He smirked. "And you? Did you find someone to obsess over?"
I knew he was flirting. I knew it. And still, my stomach flipped like I was free-falling.
I looked him dead in the eye and said, "Maybe."
That earned me another one of those lazy, devastating smiles. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice in that way that made it impossible to focus on anything else.
"Good," he said. "Because I was hoping it would be me."
The tension between us tightened, the air practically buzzing. I couldn't stop thinking about it — the way he looked dripping in sweat, the way he moved on the ice, powerful and controlled, like he could do anything he wanted. Including completely wreck my entire sense of sanity with just a look.
He watched me, his gaze heavy, and I knew he could tell. He knew.
"So," I said, trying to be brave, my voice a little breathier than I meant, "Is this where you tell me you're as good off the ice as you are on it?"
The look he gave me in that moment — slow, heated, dangerous in the best possible way — sent a shiver straight down my spine.
"Why don't you find out?" he said, so casually it made my stomach twist.
I bit my lip, leaning back just enough to make him chase a little.
"Maybe I will," I teased.
He laughed under his breath, eyes glinting. "Careful," he said. "I play to win."
I stirred my coffee just to have something to do with my hands, because if I kept staring at him — at the muscles under that hoodie, at the way he looked like he could ruin me with just one kiss — I was going to do something very, very reckless.
The coffee cups sat forgotten between us, long empty. Neither of us made a move to leave — it was like we were both waiting for the other to say it first.
Finally, Nico leaned in, his voice low and smooth. "Come on. Let me walk you back." Not a question. A promise.
I nodded, heart hammering. Outside, the air was crisp, the night alive with city lights and the fading buzz of the game. He tucked his hands into his hoodie pockets as we walked, close enough that our arms brushed with every step, a casual kind of intimacy that made my skin hum.
We didn’t say much. We didn’t have to. Every glance, every small smile was electric.
My mind kept betraying me — flashing back to the rink, to the way he looked drenched in sweat, messy and flushed and a little cocky. I wondered how he’d look even more wrecked. What his hands would feel like on my hips. What it would feel like to tug that hoodie over his head and—
"You keep looking at me like that," Nico murmured, his voice curling around my nerves, "and I'm gonna do something about it."
I sucked in a breath, the world around us narrowing to just him. His accent, that lazy, confident swagger, the heat in his eyes like he was already imagining it too.
I stopped walking. He did too, turning to face me, barely a foot away. I could feel the warmth radiating off his body, smell the faint trace of soap and something darker, something him underneath it.
"You should," I whispered before I could lose my nerve.
For a second, he just looked at me — like he was memorizing the moment, every inch of it. And then he closed the distance in two slow, deliberate steps.
His hand brushed my jaw, tilting my face up to him, his touch firm but careful, like he was giving me one last chance to pull away.
I didn’t. God, I didn’t even think about it.
Nico kissed me like he played hockey — intense, powerful, absolutely all-consuming. His mouth was hot against mine, demanding in a way that made my knees buckle slightly. I clutched at the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and he growled low in his throat, deep and rough and perfect.
His other hand slid to my waist, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp against his lips. He took advantage immediately, deepening the kiss, slow and dirty and breathtaking.
It was the kind of kiss that didn’t just set your skin on fire — it burned straight through your bones.
When we finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard. His thumb traced lazy circles over my hipbone, possessive and tender all at once.
"I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you," he muttered, voice rough with want.
I laughed, breathless. "You winked at me like five minutes after seeing me."
He grinned — that crooked, devastating smile — and pressed another quick, teasing kiss to the corner of my mouth. "Exactly."
I leaned into him, feeling dizzy, drunk on the way he felt, the way he wanted me so blatantly. I didn't know where this was going — didn't know if this was crazy, reckless, or the start of something real.
He kept his hand at my waist as we walked the last few blocks, his thumb brushing lazy, teasing circles against my side like he couldn’t not touch me. Every few steps, he’d glance down at me with this look — dark, smirking, like he was just barely holding back.
I was not doing much better.
Every time our bodies brushed, every time his hand tightened, every time I remembered the way his mouth felt on mine, a fresh wave of heat rolled through me. I couldn’t stop thinking about how solid he was under that hoodie, how he moved with this quiet, confident strength — and how easy it would be to lean into him again, to let him wreck me in the best way.
We stopped outside my building.
I turned to him, heart hammering so loud it drowned out everything else. The streetlights painted golden highlights over his hair, his skin, and when he looked at me — eyes heavy-lidded, mouth slightly parted like he was thinking about kissing me again — I nearly forgot how to stand.
"I should..." I said, trailing off, but not moving toward the door.
"You should," he agreed, stepping closer.
Neither of us moved.
The space between us crackled, stretched so thin it could snap.
His hand slid from my waist up to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him with one smooth, unhurried motion. My hands landed against his chest instinctively — and holy hell, he felt even better than I imagined. Solid. Warm. His heartbeat thudding under my palms.
"You coming up?" I heard myself ask, voice way too breathy, way too hopeful.
He gave me a look that made my stomach twist — dark, hungry, a silent I was hoping you'd ask.
"Only if you want me to," he said, his mouth ghosting along the shell of my ear.
I shivered.
"I want to," I whispered.
That was all it took.
Nico’s hand slid down to my hip, fingers curling tight, and he kissed me again — harder this time, less careful, like he was done pretending we were just flirting.
I barely remembered fumbling with my keys, dragging him through the door, up the stairs. All I knew was the way his hands roamed like he was already memorizing me — the way he pushed me gently against the wall of the hallway, kissing me slow and deep until I was gasping into his mouth, clinging to the front of his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping me standing.
When we finally stumbled into my apartment, he barely gave me a second to kick the door shut before he was on me again.
His hoodie bunched under my fingers as I pulled him closer, desperate to feel him, to get under his skin the way he was already under mine. He nipped at my bottom lip, soothed the sting with a kiss that left me dizzy, drugged on him.
"God," he muttered against my mouth, "you're gonna drive me crazy."
"You started it," I shot back, dragging my nails lightly along the nape of his neck.
He growled low in his throat — actually growled — and in one swift motion, he lifted me by the hips, setting me down on the kitchen counter like I weighed nothing. I let out a breathless laugh, threading my fingers through his hair as he bracketed my body with his own.
"I’m not planning on stopping," he said, voice rough, dangerous, thrilling. Neither was I.
The second Nico set me down on the counter, he was on me again — kissing me like he couldn't stand the space between us.
It wasn’t neat or careful anymore. It was messy. Hungry. Real.
His hands roamed without hesitation, sliding up under my shirt, calloused fingertips dragging along my bare skin and leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touched. I gasped into his mouth, arching into him instinctively, needing more, more, like breathing wasn’t enough anymore unless it was through him.
"You're dangerous," I whispered against his lips, my fingers curling into the soft fabric of his hoodie.
He grinned — wild and breathless — and tugged the hoodie over his head, tossing it to the floor without breaking the kiss. And god — seeing him like that, in just a fitted black t-shirt stretched across his chest and arms — it knocked the air clean out of my lungs.
I ran my hands over his torso, feeling the solid muscle under my palms. The way his stomach tensed when I touched him made something primal spark deep in my gut.
He dipped his head to my neck, dragging his mouth along my skin — slow, almost lazy — before sucking just under my jaw hard enough to make me whimper. It was possessive, a little rough, and it lit every nerve ending on fire.
"You smell so good," he muttered against my throat, voice dark and low and wrecked.
I tilted my head back, giving him more access without even thinking, threading my fingers into his hair and tugging just enough to make him groan — low and filthy and completely, utterly undone.
His hands slid under my thighs, dragging me closer to the edge of the counter. Our hips collided, and when I felt how hard he was already — when he let out a ragged breath against my skin — my whole body flushed, hot and desperate.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he said roughly, hands tightening on me like he could anchor himself that way.
"Show me," I whispered.
It was all he needed.
He kissed me again, fiercer this time, stealing the air from my lungs. His hands slid up under my shirt again — this time dragging it slowly, deliberately over my head and tossing it aside — leaving me bare to him in nothing but my jeans and bra.
He pulled back just enough to look at me — really look at me — and the way his eyes darkened made my pulse thunder in my ears.
"Beautiful," he said simply, like it wasn’t even a question.
He kissed down my neck, across my collarbone, taking his time, making sure I felt every brush of his mouth, every scrape of his teeth. One hand splayed across my back, holding me steady, while the other skimmed along the waistband of my jeans — teasing, playing — making my breath hitch with every second he dragged it out.
I tugged at the hem of his shirt in retaliation, earning a low chuckle against my skin.
"Impatient?" he teased, voice low and gravelly.
"You're one to talk," I shot back, tugging harder.
He pulled back just enough to strip his shirt off in one smooth motion, revealing a body that looked like it had been carved by the gods — broad shoulders, cut abs, every line of him screaming strength and control and something just a little dangerous. And all of it was mine. Tonight, at least.
Nico leaned in, his forehead resting against mine, his thumb tracing lazy, reverent circles along the exposed skin of my waist.
"We can slow down," he murmured, his voice a little rough, a little strained. "If you want."
I looked at him — really looked at him — and something in my chest twisted painfully sweet. Because underneath all the heat, all the hunger, he was still giving me a way out. Still asking for permission. Still choosing to be soft when he could so easily be reckless.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him back down to me.
"I don't want slow," I whispered against his mouth. "I want you."
He groaned like I'd broken something inside him — and when he kissed me again, it was with the full weight of that desperation, that hunger he'd been holding back. Neither of us had any intention of stopping.
The second the words left my mouth — "I want you" — something shifted between us.
It was like a dam breaking. All the heat, all the tension that had been simmering exploded into something raw and unstoppable.
Nico kissed me hard, hands roaming everywhere at once, desperate and greedy like he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into my thighs, pulling me closer until I could feel every hard line of him pressing against me, making my whole body throb with need.
My hands slid over his bare chest, his muscles flexing under my palms. God, he was solid everywhere, built from years of pushing himself to the limit — and now he was here, unravelling at my touch.
"You're killing me," he muttered against my skin as he kissed his way down my neck, his voice rough and broken.
"Good," I gasped, tugging at the waistband of his jeans.
He growled low in his throat — and fuck, the sound went straight to the pit of my stomach — before grabbing my hand and guiding it lower, letting me feel exactly what I was doing to him.
I bit my lip hard enough to hurt.
Nico pulled back just enough to yank my jeans down my legs, tossing them aside with a dark, determined look that made my heart nearly stop. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving, his hair a mess from my fingers — and he looked at me like he wanted to ruin me.
"Look at you," he rasped, letting his gaze drag over every inch of exposed skin. "So fucking perfect."
I reached for him again, and he caught my wrists, pinning them lightly to the counter behind me. Not rough. Not harsh. Just enough to make me squirm, to make me ache with how badly I needed him.
"You gonna let me take my time?" he murmured, leaning in, his mouth hovering over mine.
I nodded breathlessly — or maybe whimpered — not even sure anymore.
"Good girl," he whispered, and Jesus, the way the words rolled off his tongue made my whole body tense with anticipation.
He trailed kisses down my throat, over the tops of my breasts, leaving a slow, hot path until I was gasping, arching into him. His hands finally released my wrists, sliding down my sides, thumbs tracing maddening circles against my hips.
And when he finally peeled away the last scraps of clothing between us, Nico didn't rush. He took his time, hands and mouth worshipping every inch of me, making sure I felt just how badly he wanted me.
By the time he finally pushed inside me, I was already trembling — mindless with need, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me anchored to the world.
He moved slow at first, deep and deliberate, making sure I felt every stretch, every pulse of him against me.
"Fuck, you feel good," he groaned into my neck, his breath hot and ragged.
I could barely breathe, barely think. All I could do was feel — the drag of his hands over my skin, the overwhelming heat of his body against mine, the way he filled me perfectly, like he was made for this, made for me.
Nico kissed me fiercely, like he needed to claim every inch of me, like he needed me to know that tonight, I was his — and he was absolutely mine.
We lost ourselves in each other, the rhythm building higher and higher, rougher, needier, until I was right on the edge, clinging to him helplessly.
"Come for me," he rasped against my lips, voice pure sin. And when I did — when the pleasure crashed over me so hard it made me cry out his name — he followed with a low, broken groan, holding me so tight against him like he never wanted to let me go.
We stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together, hearts pounding out of control. And when he finally pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, he smiled — soft, real, and completely wrecked in the most beautiful way.
"You're trouble," he said, brushing his nose against mine.
I laughed, dizzy and drunk on him. "You started it."
He kissed me again — slow, sweet, addictive — and for the first time all night, I wasn’t thinking about anything else.
After, we just stayed there for a while — tangled up, breathing hard, clinging to each other like the world outside didn’t exist.
Nico shifted first, brushing my hair back from my face with the lightest touch, like he was scared he might break me now. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns along my skin, calming the frantic beat of my heart.
"You okay?" he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion but still full of that low, tender heat.
I nodded, too blissed out to form actual words. Instead, I leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, feeling the stubble scrape against my lips, feeling him hum low in his chest in response.
He scooped me up effortlessly — like it was nothing, like he needed to keep me close — and carried me to the bed without even asking. Dropped me onto the mattress with a little bounce and a grin that made my whole body warm again.
I laughed, pulling him down with me.
He settled over me, heavy and real, his body a comforting weight. He tucked his face into the crook of my neck, breathing me in like he never wanted to forget this.
"Don’t wanna leave," he mumbled against my skin, voice thick and slurred with sleep.
"You don't have to," I whispered, threading my fingers through his messy hair.
He sighed — this deep, content sound — and tightened his arm around my waist, dragging me closer until there wasn’t a single inch of space between us.
For a while, we just laid there in the dark. His heartbeat steady against my side. His hand tracing slow, idle shapes over my hip. His breath fanning warm over my collarbone.
It should've felt overwhelming — all this sudden closeness, all this heat that hadn’t burned out yet — but it didn’t. It felt right.
Nico shifted again, lifting his head just enough to look down at me. His hair was tousled, falling over his forehead, and his eyes were soft, almost sleepy — but still burning with something fierce underneath it all.
"Can I see you again?" he asked, his thumb brushing my cheekbone.
I smiled, feeling my heart flip over in my chest. "You better."
He laughed — this low, rumbling sound that made me want to kiss him all over again — and leaned in, pressing the sweetest kiss to the corner of my mouth.
"You’re dangerous," he whispered against my skin. "More dangerous than you know."
I smiled against his lips. "Good," I murmured. "You deserve a little danger."
He kissed me again — slow and deep, like he was memorizing the way I tasted, the way I breathed, the way I felt against him.
And somewhere in the haze of kisses and soft laughter and whispered promises, we drifted off — tangled up in each other, hearts beating the same rhythm.
The last thing I felt before sleep claimed me was the slow, careful way Nico pulled the blanket up around us — like he could shield me from everything bad in the world — and the warm, lazy press of his mouth against my shoulder as he breathed against my skin:
"I’m not letting you go."
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The first thing I felt when I woke up was warmth.
Solid heat pressed against my back, a heavy arm draped over my waist, fingers curled lazily against my stomach like he hadn’t moved all night. I blinked against the soft morning light spilling through the curtains, feeling a smile tug at my lips before I even opened my eyes.
Nico.
Still here. Still tangled up with me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I shifted slightly, and he stirred — nuzzling his face deeper into the curve of my neck, muttering something low and half-asleep in Swiss German that I didn’t understand but made my chest ache anyway.
God, he was lethal like this. Barely awake, hair a complete mess, voice rough and deep and wrecked.
I turned just enough to see him — sheets kicked low on his hips, bare chest rising and falling with every slow breath — and nearly forgot how to breathe altogether.
Before I could even think about moving, his hand tightened around me.
"Where you goin'?" he rasped, voice thick with sleep, a little accusatory.
"I wasn’t," I said softly, tracing a light line down his arm. "Just... looking."
At him.
At this.
At the stupid, unfair fact that he looked even hotter like this — relaxed and rumpled and somehow even more dangerous than he was on the ice.
He cracked one eye open and gave me a slow, lazy smirk that made my whole body flush all over again.
"You like what you see?" he teased, voice still heavy with sleep.
"Maybe," I said, pretending to shrug. "You’re okay, I guess."
He laughed — that low, rumbling sound that went straight to my thighs — and in one smooth motion, rolled me onto my back, hovering over me.
"You’re a terrible liar," he murmured, leaning down to kiss me — slow and deep — like he was already thinking about round two. And honestly? So was I.
His hand slid up my thigh under the sheets, lazy but deliberate, making my breath catch in my throat.
"Thought we were getting breakfast," I said, though my voice was already shaky.
"We are," he said, dragging his mouth along my jaw, down my neck. "Eventually."
"Nico—"
"You," he said, pressing a kiss just above the swell of my breast, "are my breakfast."
I let out a breathless laugh — and then gasped when he bit down lightly, just enough to make me arch into him.
Any thought of pancakes or coffee or literally anything else disappeared instantly.
He kissed his way lower, slower, taking his time like he had all the hours in the world — and honestly, if he kept touching me like that, I wasn’t about to argue.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against my skin.
"You’re trouble," he muttered, voice dark and full of heat.
"You love it," I whispered, pulling him up to kiss me again.
And he did. I could feel it in the way his hands worshipped my body, in the way he kissed me like he was starving for me, in the way he held me like he never wanted to let me go.
And as the morning sun poured over us, painting everything gold and soft and new — I realized something.
I was absolutely, completely in trouble.
And for once in my life I didn’t mind at all.
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It was supposed to be simple. Just dinner — casual, normal, easy.
But nothing about being with Nico was ever easy.
He picked me up looking like he just stepped out of a goddamn magazine. Black jacket, fitted white tee, jeans that clung to him in all the right places — and that smile. That smile that made my knees go a little weak the second he laid eyes on me.
"You’re lucky I showed up," I teased, slipping into the passenger seat.
He reached over immediately, hand landing on my thigh like it belonged there. And when he squeezed — casual but very intentional — I barely swallowed a sound.
"You weren't getting away that easy," he said, voice low.
The drive to the restaurant was a blur — mostly because his hand never left my thigh. Sometimes sliding a little higher, sometimes just resting there, always warm, always possessive. Every casual brush sent a jolt straight through me, until by the time we parked, I was already dangerously close to crawling into his lap.
And he knew it.
He grinned as he killed the engine, leaning in so close I could feel his breath against my ear.
"Patience," he whispered, voice like gravel and honey.
"You're evil," I whispered back, heart hammering in my chest.
"You're the one who wore that dress," he said, eyes flicking down my body like he wanted to eat me alive right there in the damn parking lot.
Dinner was a joke.
Neither of us could concentrate.
Nico sat across from me at the tiny corner table, but he might as well have been on top of me. His foot brushed against mine constantly under the table — not by accident. His knee pressed against mine. His fingers found any excuse to graze my hand, my wrist, my thigh.
Every time I looked up, I caught him watching me — dark-eyed and starving, like he was counting down the minutes until he could get me alone.
"You're not even trying to hide it," I said at one point, laughing into my wine glass.
"Why would I?" he said shamelessly, leaning closer, his voice dropping. "Everyone here should know you're mine."
My face heated instantly, but the way he said it — low and rough and so sure — sent a full-body shiver down my spine.
Somehow, somehow, we made it through dinner.
But the second we were outside, Nico had me pinned against the car, mouth crashing onto mine like he hadn't tasted me in weeks.
The kiss was brutal — hot and claiming and so, so good. His hands slid down to my hips, yanking me closer, grinding his body into mine like he didn’t even care we were in a public parking lot.
"You’re killing me," he muttered against my lips, breathing hard.
"Good," I whispered, smiling against his mouth.
He kissed me again — deeper, slower this time — like he was trying to brand himself into me.
And when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against mine, his chest heaving, he whispered it so quietly I almost missed it:
"I’m already yours."
The second Nico got the door open, he was on me.
He slammed it shut with one hand, the other already dragging me back against him, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that was all teeth and hunger. No hesitation. No patience. Just raw, messy, desperate need.
I barely had time to gasp before he backed me into the wall, pinning me there with his whole body, grinding into me like he wanted to fuse us together.
"Fucking finally," he growled against my mouth, hands everywhere at once — sliding up my thighs, under my dress, tugging the straps down with reckless urgency.
"You’re so fucking hot," he muttered, kissing down my throat, biting gently at my collarbone. "Been thinking about you all night. All fucking day."
I moaned, head tipping back to give him more access as he yanked the dress down to my waist, baring me to him completely. He groaned when he saw I hadn’t worn a bra — deep, guttural, almost pained — and before I could blink, his mouth was everywhere.
Sucking, licking, biting — like he couldn't decide what he wanted more. His hands squeezed my ass, lifting me easily, and I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively, gasping when I felt how hard he was through his jeans.
He carried me like that, lips never leaving my skin, all the way to the bedroom — threw me down onto the bed and stood there for a second, just looking at me.
His chest was heaving. His eyes were dark.
"Strip," he said, voice hoarse and rough in a way that made my stomach drop.
I peeled the dress off the rest of the way, baring everything to him, feeling the heat of his gaze like a physical touch.
Nico swore under his breath, yanked his shirt over his head, and stripped out of his jeans so fast it was almost comical — almost — except for the fact that fuck, he was stupidly, unfairly gorgeous.
Toned. Golden. Every muscle tense and ready and so fucking hungry for me.
He knelt on the bed between my legs, running his hands up my thighs so slowly it made me whimper.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispered, before dipping his head — and then his mouth was there, hot and devastating and relentless.
I cried out, hands flying to his hair, tugging helplessly as he licked and sucked and drove me absolutely insane. He worked me with maddening precision, not letting up until my legs were trembling and I was gasping his name over and over again like a prayer.
When I finally shattered, Nico didn’t give me a second to recover.
He crawled up my body, mouth crashing onto mine again, and I tasted myself on his lips. It was filthy. It was perfect.
"You’re mine," he said again, rough and breathless, as he lined himself up against me.
And when he finally pushed inside — slow, deliberate, deep — I couldn’t hold back the loud, broken moan that ripped from my throat.
He moved slow at first — hips grinding deep, making sure I felt every inch, every deliberate drag of him stretching me open.
"You feel so good," he growled into my ear. "So fucking tight. So perfect."
I was already spiraling again, clinging to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, trying to pull him even closer.
"Faster," I gasped. "Nico—please—" That broke him.
He snapped his hips harder, rougher, fucking into me with a brutal rhythm that had the headboard slamming against the wall and filthy, desperate sounds filling the room.
My body was on fire — every nerve ending lit up, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of him — his hands, his mouth, his filthy praise spilling into my ear like gasoline on the flames.
"Taking me so good," he rasped. "So fucking perfect for me. Mine—mine—"
It wasn’t long before I was falling again, harder than before, my whole body convulsing around him.
Nico groaned deep in his chest — the most broken, beautiful sound — and with a few more desperate thrusts, he followed, spilling into me with a rough, gasping curse.
He collapsed on top of me, chest heaving, forehead pressed into the curve of my neck.
For a long moment, the only sound was our ragged breathing, our racing hearts.
Then, finally, he lifted his head — messy hair, flushed cheeks, swollen lips — and looked down at me like I was something sacred.
"You’re not leaving," he said, voice still wrecked.
It wasn’t a question. It was a promise.
I smiled, threading my fingers into his sweaty hair, tugging him down into a slow, lazy kiss.
"Wasn’t planning on it," I whispered against his mouth.
And from the way he kissed me after that — slow, deep, endless — I knew we were just getting started.
I barely had the strength to move — but apparently, Nico had other plans.
Still breathless, still pressed against me like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space, he kissed a slow, lazy path along my jaw and murmured against my skin:
"Come shower with me."
I hummed, pretending to think about it. "I don't know," I teased, voice wrecked. "I might need a stretcher."
He laughed — low and rough and stupidly hot — and before I could protest, he scooped me up bridal-style like I weighed nothing.
"You can rest after," he said, voice dark with promise. "Not done with you yet."
Oh, fuck.
I clung to him, heart pounding again, feeling the heat in his body like a second skin.
The bathroom filled with steam almost immediately — the water hot, the air thick — but Nico didn't even set me down right away.
He pressed me back against the cold tile, his body a furnace against mine, kissing me slow and filthy like we had all the time in the world.
His hands slid over my slick skin — everywhere — fingers tracing every curve, relearning me like he couldn't believe I was real.
"You’re so fucking pretty," he murmured against my mouth, hands squeezing my ass, grinding his hips into me shamelessly.
"Thought you said you wanted to shower," I teased breathlessly, raking my nails down his back just to hear him growl.
"Changing plans," he muttered, and then he dropped to his knees — in the shower, water pouring over him — and buried his face between my thighs like a man starved.
I cried out, grabbing onto his messy hair, anchoring myself as his tongue worked me over — relentless, filthy, worshipping.
The water ran down my body, mixing with the slick slide of his mouth, his fingers digging into my hips to hold me still.
I was already oversensitive, already wrecked from before, but he didn’t seem to care. He wanted more. He wanted everything.
When I came — hard, shaking, sobbing his name into the echoing steam — he didn’t let up. Not even a little.
He licked me through it, slow and devastating, until I was slumping against the wall, barely able to stand. Finally, he rose to his feet, mouth glistening, eyes dark and blown wide with hunger.
"You’re gonna kill me," I whispered, laughing weakly.
He just grinned, that dangerous, heart-melting smile, and lifted me again — caging me against the wall, his cock sliding against my thigh, hot and so fucking ready.
"Not until I’ve had my fill," he growled, voice rough, wrecked.
And then he was inside me again — fast, deep, brutal — slamming into me with wet, filthy sounds that echoed off the tile walls, his fingers digging bruises into my hips.
The water washed over us, but it didn’t cool the heat even a little. It only made it messier… hotter… more out of control.
He fucked me like he couldn’t get deep enough, couldn’t get close enough, panting my name like a prayer, like a curse.
"Mine," he gritted against my mouth, pounding into me so hard the shelves shook. "You’re fucking mine."
"Yours," I gasped, clinging to him, giving him everything.
And when we came — together, wild and shattering and almost too much — it was everything.
When the world finally stopped spinning, Nico kissed my forehead — soft, reverent — still buried deep inside me. Still holding me like he would never let go. Still whispering my name like it was the only thing he ever wanted to say. And honestly? He didn’t even have to. Because my body already knew, I was his.
Completely. Hopelessly. Forever.
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taffywabbit · 4 months ago
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taffy, do you have any tips on how to get motivation to draw when adhd makes focusing or even just starting on it hard?
youre one of my favorite artists and hearing you have adhd too made me feel a bit better abt my struggles with it
hmmm. I mean even after I started finally getting medicated for it I still struggled with this so I don't know if I have any GREAT tips lol, but here's some stuff that seems to help me:
- keep a list somewhere of ideas you wanna draw or techniques/styles you wanna practice or whatever, so you can add stuff to the list whenever you randomly think of it
- find ways to get yourself into Art Focus Mode, like a flow state or hyperfocus or whatever. for me that usually means making sure my water is full, eating a snack, wrapping my lower body in a blanket (my apartment is always a little chilly), and either joining a discord call with some friends (often screensharing so I feel sorta accountable if I get distracted and stop drawing) or just closing social media tabs and pulling up music/video essays/stream VODs/etc. the point of any of this is largely to make it harder to randomly get up and do other stuff if I don't actually need to. I'm at my desk and I'm drawing, it's happening, I'm locking in
- if you have something you NEED to draw (like me with commission work) and you can't find the motivation to just jump into that right away, this is where your list comes in. look at it and find something that currently interests you to draw (either fully or at least just starting it) and try drawing that first for a bit. then once you're kinda already in the art mindset, you can pivot over to the Art Task and it's usually a bit easier than jumping in raw. (setting a timer may also be helpful if you find your warmup drawings end up going on too long)
- this one might be a bit more of a me thing and specific to my workflow, but I also like keeping a little stopwatch app in the corner of my screen while I'm working so I know how long I've been drawing for. it's good for keeping track of how long I spend on commissions relative to how much I'm getting paid so I stay roughly within my "time budget", but it's more immediately helpful for just making sure I take breaks when I notice I've been working for a couple hours already. taking breaks often feels counterintuitive to the whole process of trying to induce hyperfocus, but you GOTTA take them or your bones will explode, so make them structured and make them count. get a snack, walk around, stretch, whatever you gotta do, and then restart the process and get back to drawing (and remember to unpause your timer lol)
that's all I can think of right now! hopefully some of this is helpful!
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lu-dao-writes · 1 year ago
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— 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝙓𝙞𝙚 ����𝙞𝙖𝙣 & 𝙃𝙪𝙖 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙜)
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ᡴꪫ ゚. 𓂃𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 You like being with Xie Lian, and when San Lang joined you had no problems with him either. You love their natural affection…
B̴̰̼̤̄͋̽̆͝ų̷̤̫͙͉͈́̓ͅt̵̯̬͌̿̎̽̉ ̵͎͈̯̓͐̀͘͝s̷̡͖͚̘͓͙̹̰̖̈́o̸̪̞̹̞̼̥̮̮̊̃̈́̎́̾̕͘͜͝m̶͚̐̉͑́͗̕͜͠ͅé̴̫͓̥̈́͗̈́̒ͅt̷͚̟̲̻̜̙̾̚i̷̢̗̗͈̩͚͆̍m̴͙̼͉̻̗̻̬̿̓̀̆͘ͅe̴̡̧͉͔̲͔̫̻͑̋̀́̈̀̌̈́̚s̵̢̫̟̳̩̲̟͆̏̆̃̄̿͝ ̴̤̘͉̻̮͈̿̀̐̄͒̃͝į̴̫͔̫̠̌͐̚t̸̰̔̋̀̾͐’̴̢̦̥͓̯̺͖̈́̓̒ś̴̨͇̣̼͑̀̉͛̎̏͠ ̸̤̺̼̞̠̖̃̋͗̄̀͝š̸̙̼̐̉̎͗͘u̶͍̞͖͒̈̅̔̒̍͘͜f̵̨̝̳̻̪̫̫͈͎̑̏̎̍̈͒f̵̞͇̥͖̥̹̳̹͐͐̌̈́̽͝o̸̡̤̙̙̗̤̦͙̿́̀͐̾͠c̵̨̹̔͜ȃ̶̛̱̜̗͍̒̌̈́̿́t̸̛͎̘͕̤̜̟̎̐i̷̖͓͖͔̭̥̒̆͂́̚͘͘ͅn̵̛̯̬͎̭͐̊̋̏g̸͓͍͚̦̻̳͑.̵͙̖̰͊̉ ̶̲͉̘̆̋̀̆̓
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, codependency, possessive behavior, biting, blood tasting, sleep watching, amnesiac!reader, gn!reader, hybrid au, some animalistic behavior, maybe poor grammar.
𝘼/𝙉 This is a warmup I made when I needed to take a pause from my jjk projects! Also deciding to post this while I wait for my poll to end!౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹
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YOU’VE only met Xiè Lián a month ago, but he is a humble man, perhaps the most humble man you’ve ever met in your years of living.
And despite only knowing him for such a little amount of time, there’s this huge sense of familiarity whenever you’re together.
He’s so kind, too kind almost, and submissive, but not in a completely bad way. It just seems that he’s too willing to let others walk all over him sometimes.
But you don’t regret befriending him. He’s as sweet as can be and your wonderful savior, his only want when you asked how you can repay him is your e̶t̶e̶r̶n̶a̶l̶ friendship.
You two were lonely souls wondering the earth so it’s natural that you remained at each other’s sides, helping him collect scraps.
While staying with him, you’ve noticed the ferret’s need for physical touch and aggressive play, which you grant because how could you not? You owe him a lot and you’re touch starved yourself.
B̶u̶t̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶i̶m̶e̶s̶ ̶p̶l̶a̶y̶ ̶g̶e̶t̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶b̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶o̶ ̶a̶g̶g̶r̶e̶s̶s̶i̶v̶e̶,̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶b̶i̶t̶e̶s̶ ̶d̶r̶a̶w̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶b̶l̶o̶o̶d̶,̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶X̶i̶è̶ ̶L̶i̶á̶n̶ ̶h̶a̶p̶p̶i̶l̶y̶ ̶l̶i̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶d̶o̶w̶n̶.̶
But it’s okay! That’s just his nature!
There was one time he had to disappear for a moment, stating that it’s just some business to help innocent people from a ghost problem and left you at an inn for the time being.
You missed him,b̶u̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶’̶t̶ ̶d̶e̶n̶y̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶e̶n̶j̶o̶y̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶p̶a̶c̶e̶.̶ ̶
But he soon came back and you two now had a place to live at for once! It’s a shabby shrine, but both of you put your care and hard work to make it a home.
The bed is a simple straw mat on the hard floor but the comfort of each other’s arms and warmth make up for it!
B̶u̶t̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶i̶m̶e̶s̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶h̶u̶g̶s̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶b̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶o̶ ̶t̶i̶g̶h̶t̶,̶ ̶t̶o̶o̶ ̶p̶o̶s̶s̶e̶s̶s̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶m̶o̶s̶t̶.̶ ̶
Sleeping together is a joy though!
And things get more interesting when a lone fox joins the mix.
His name is Sān Láng, and Xiè Lián had brought him over one night and offered your collective space to him since he had no place to go.
He’s a charming young man with a mysterious aura, giving answers but becomes a bit elusive when it’s direct questions about him. He’s far more interested in getting to know you and Xiè Lián though, wanting the both of you to lay yourselves bare to him.
But he quickly becomes close to you both, and you become aware that he’s just as clingy as the ferret.
The bed situation is even more cramped, but as long as you were all touching all was fine!
S̶o̶m̶e̶t̶i̶m̶e̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶w̶e̶a̶r̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶’̶r̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶w̶a̶t̶c̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶’̶v̶e̶ ̶y̶e̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶f̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶s̶l̶e̶e̶p̶s̶ ̶e̶m̶b̶r̶a̶c̶e̶,̶ ̶X̶i̶è̶ ̶L̶i̶á̶n̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶S̶ā̶n̶ ̶L̶á̶n̶g̶’̶s̶ ̶b̶r̶e̶a̶t̶h̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶s̶u̶f̶f̶o̶c̶a̶t̶i̶n̶g̶,̶ ̶i̶m̶p̶r̶i̶n̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶s̶k̶i̶n̶.̶
Sān Láng likes to watch you and Xiè Lián, especially when you’re playing, but he never gets in the mix until he’s invited, and you can see the pure delight in his eyes when asked.
But you almost always end up on your back, overpowered and vulnerable to them both.
L̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶p̶e̶r̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶y̶.̶
But unfortunately, things get weird when Nán Fēng, a dog, and Fú Yáo, a cat, show up at the door.
The way those two grow so pale when they look at you…
And how tight Xiè Lián holds your shoulders…
How Sān Láng’s voice gets unusually more sharper…
There’s more to what’s going on.
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cuteandhughesy · 3 months ago
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30 and sid pleaseeeeee
prompt no. 30: "you got me flowers?" "yeah? is that like..not a normal thing with guys your age?"
a/n: but if a time jump! sid is retired and coaching kids :)
you slide the silver dainty hoop into your ear, clasping it closed once it’s fully through. you repeat the process on the other side, smiling triumphantly as they glimmer in the light above your bathroom mirror.
you smooth down the front of your summer dress, feeling the soft material between your manicured fingers—it’s like buttermilk. you twirl around, checking over your look once more time.
it’s your third date with sidney crosby. you meet him at your little brothers hockey game, one that you had to take him too because both of your parents had to work. you didn’t even mean to run into him—sure, having the sidney crosby coach your brothers little league team was really cool, but you were never really into hockey, and you honestly didn’t care to meet him.
you were running a little bit behind that day, practically pushing your brother along so he’d stop with the damn sloth pace like he always does, when you ran right into him.
his jaw had ticked, starting down at you while your younger brother blinked between the two do you helplessly. the team is already on the ice, skating around to start their warmups. which means sidney was coming to look for your brother.
“i’m sorry,” you said, ushering your brother along to the direction of the change room. “we’re late. I didn’t even know what time the game started, and my parents didn’t tell me they needed james dropped off until 20 minutes before-“
your babbling was amusing to sidney, and if anything it made him feel a bit fond. yeah, he’d been angry that one of his players was so late that they were missing warm ups, and he was on his way to raise some havoc, but then you walked in. silky looking hair and puffer coat that reminded him of a baby penguin, ushering your brother along like you were both apart of a secret mission.
sidney found it endearing. “it’s okay,” he tells you, a half smile on his face. he tucks his clipboard under his arm and then extends his hand in your direction, “i’m sidney.”
you let out a sigh of relief, the smallest grin pulling at your face. you were fully prepared for the retired nhl phenomenon to team you out in front of everyone, so his softness, for lack of a better word, caught you by surprise. you take his hand delicately, “i’m y/n.”
you started taking your brother to james more often than not after meeting sidney, which your parents didn’t mind—work was keeping them busy enough without driving james around. your crush your on your brothers coach was pathetic, you knew that. he was older than you, too busy paying attention to a bunch of kids to even notice you staring at him helplessly in the stands.
but then he asked you for coffee.
and then after getting coffee together he asked if you were free for dinner that following friday.
and now you’re here, in your shitty apartment bathroom getting ready for an afternoon lunch with sidney crosby.
you decide that you don’t need anymore jewelry or extra makeup—what you’ve already got on will do. you flick off your bathroom light, rounding down the hallway to your bedroom. you cringe—it looks like a tornado blew through your room. multiple different clothing pieces strewn across the floor from only 20 minutes ago when you were frantically trying to find something to wear.
you just wanted to look appropriate and pretty and mature for your date.
god, sidney crosby has turned you into a melty mess and you haven’t even kissed the guy yet.
as you’re slipping on your shoes there’s a firm knock at your door—two to be exact. your body goes hot and a smile lights up your entire face. you practically skip out of your room and back down the hall, “coming!” you call softly.
when you open the front door sidney is wearing a lopsided grin, dressed in a light blue linen button up and khaki shorts. he looks like a yacht dilf. his salt and pepper hair glimmers in the sunshine, and the cologne he’s wearing makes your head feel dizzy. “hey,” sidney says, walking up the last step of your stoop.
“hey yourself,” you smile nervously, accepting the warm hug he offers you. it’s only then that you notice the bouquet of spring coloured flowers— daffodils, baby breath, and a few others you don’t recognize but are still stunning. you eye him shyly, reaching out to stroke along one of the petals, “you got me flowers?”
the way you ask him, so unsure but still filled with hope makes sidney falter. just for a moment. he passes you the bouquet, to which you raise to your face and smell them instantly. “yeah? is that like…not a normal thing for guys your age?”
you grin, a small bubble of laughter following. “no,” you say, rounding into your small kitchen and pulling an empty vase down from the top of your fridge. sidney watches as you move effortlessly, your dress swinging and hugging you in all the right places. he almost wants to shake his head in disbelief. you’re so stunning.
you fill up the glass vase with tap water and then place the flowers in, setting the arrangement on your counter with a soft smile. “I love them,” you say, skipping back over to where sidney is standing—which is now inside your entryway, leaning causally against the wall beside a picture frame. “thank you.”
your hands rest on his stomach, thumb stroking the linen top absentmindedly as you look up at him. sidney’s smile turns more soft, raising his hand to push your loose hair behind your ear. “of course.”
he doesn’t move his hand like you expect him too. sidney stays cradling the side of your head, and before you can react, he’s leaning down, pressing a firm closed mouth kiss to your lips. he pulls away after 5 seconds, and then leans back in for a quicker peck before completely pulling off you.
you blink in surprise, “we’ve never done that before.” you say dumbly.
“no,” sidney says, “we haven’t. is that okay?”
“definitely okay,” you mumble, pushing up to your toes and kissing him again.
(unedited)
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maxsimagination · 1 year ago
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would you write more for kim little please? maybe her dating someone younger on the team and the rest of the girls find out? <3
𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 - 𝙠.𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚
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summary: kim is dating a controversially younger teammate and the team finds out
-> kim is 34 and reader is 22
𖦹 masterlist
“𝗞𝗜𝗠, 𝗡𝗢 𝗜 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗔 sleep in. pleaseeee.”
i groaned as kim pulled the curtains to our shared apartment. i wanted to enjoy the last moments with her until we had to go to training and pretend we weren’t dating.
it wasn’t because we didn’t think they’d accept us, it was more because kim was 34 and i was only 22.
the team might not think that was bad, but if they knew then it was only a matter of time before the media knew, and it would blow up indefinitely once they knew. we just weren’t willing to risk it right now.
i ended up being dragged out of bed by kim, the scot managing to haul me to the bathroom. i was half asleep but went through my morning routine like clockwork.
we rocked up at the training fields within the next hour, but kim walked in first. we drove there in the same car but walked in separately so people didn’t suspect anything.
“yn!”
“leah!”
i greeted the blonde when i walked in, levelling her excitement with my own. she jumped onto me in a hug, before slipping back onto the floor.
we walked into the dining hall where the rest of the team and staff were, picking up our designated plates and electing to sit at katie’s table. which also happened to have kim at it.
i, obviously, chose to sit next to kim but thankfully no one picked up on that.
we were allocated an hour to eat breakfast before everyone had to actually start working for the day. all the players filed out to the changing rooms where we changed into our boots, and i slipped my hoodie off while i had the chance.
i caught kim’s gaze as i jogged out to meet leah, throwing a cheeky grin at her expression.
leah was up with katie and cait, talking about god knows what. i joined in, but then jonas cut everyone’s conversations short with his yell for attention.
“girls! let’s get started please. we’re doing a jogging warmup lap, then weights.
find a partner once you’ve finished the lap, use each other for spotting. we don’t need any injuries.”
there was collective murmurs of agreement, and we started jogging around the field. i naturally found myself jogging next to kim, as if a magnet pulled us together.
“gym partners?”
i questioned, she nodded.
we made our way to the weights section of the gym arsenal had.
“we are so doing legs first.”
i all but dragged kim over to the leg press to kickstart our session. kim did not want to do legs, she was into training arms, which was very visible from the bicep muscles that she sported.
one of the many things i drooled over.
i had shoved at least 250lbs onto the leg press machine and watched as kim’s eyes bulge at the amount of plates.
“you’re telling me you can safely lift that?”
“nope. but i’m gonna.”
i ended up doing two reps of fifteen, before upping the weight to 300lbs. kim may have had an aneurysm at the amount of weight i was pushing, and making it look like it was nothing. but she still stood behind me, watching, spotting, and dancing her fingertips over my shoulder blades.
it gave me tingles, and was slightly ticklish. what we didn’t know was that leah was looking from across the room, and she knew that something was up.
when the gym session was over and we started actual drills, leah was quick to pin me as her partner for anything. i thought it was weird but didn’t question it.
when we had a break leah took my hand and walked past kim, beckoning her to follow us. leah walked us away from the groups of girls, so we were out of earshot.
“there’s something going on between you two. spill.”
both of us were quick to sputter out some form of excuse.
“no, what do you mean.”
“don’t know what you’re talking about, lee.”
leah gave us both one of her stares.
“cut the crap. i see the way you look at each other, the little touches. not to mention you both come into practice within minutes of each other, every morning.”
i exchanged a look with kim, there was no point in hiding this from leah. she was like the fbi, she knew everything.
“okay. we’re dating. we have been for a year.”
something settled in leah’s expression, now she knew what was going on.
“i knew it.
kimmy, going for the young ones are we?”
leah poked at kim’s side, grinning at the skipper. there was an eleven year gap between us, hence why we had kept it secret for a while.
“shut it, lee. do we need to tell the whole team?”
“it would make things easier. for you that is. but only if you want.”
i look over at kim. she looks over at me. i shrug, i never had a problem with telling everyone, kim was the logic one who knew the ins and outs of the media.
“fuck it why not. they’ll figure out eventually.”
“we don’t have to say anything, we can just walk out there and start acting like a couple. see how long it takes them.”
i throw out the idea with a grin. why not have a little fun with it.
we end up agreeing on my idea. training still had a couple of hours left and jonas gave us a few more drills to do, so me and kim forgot all about keeping the secret and just had fun training with each other for once.
surprisingly, none of the girls, not even the staff, said anything. not even kyra or alessia, of all people.
you’d think that the two most gossipy youngsters on the team would say something. but by the end of training, no one was any wiser. so leah told them all.
kyra let out a very loud, ‘oh my god!’ which caught the attention of alessia, who told lotte, so on and so on. soon the whole team knew and it was like a weight was lifted off our shoulders.
“kimmy, i didn’t know you were into the young ones.”
katie’s irish accent was unmistakable as she caught up with us to poke fun at the skipper. cait walked alongside me, she didn’t tease neither me nor kim, simply said she was happy for us.
you could tell she was true with her words, she was in a very similar situation, when her and katie first got together.
“a proper cougar then, our skipper.”
lotte and alessia laughed as they walked past.
it was funny, all the jokes they threw around, but most of all i was happy that they accepted us.
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Text
Shameless porn of my Tav and Halsin some undisclosed amount of time after the end of the game.
Afab Tav getting a taste of Halsin’s rare dominant side and learning what happens to druids who spend too much time in wildshape
Just under 2k words
(I am a lazy human who writes fic in the notes app of their phone, please excuse dumb mistakes and minimal editing at times)
—————-
The first traces of dawn slip through the window as you were roused from your meditation. You feel Halsin’s hand glide down your side and come to a rest on your hip before pulling your hips firmly back into his.
While Halsin was always fairly forward about sex, the past few days especially had been something. It was not uncommon for one of you to approach the other just about everyday over it, but this was borderline excessive even for him.
Your thighs ached from straddling him many times the last couple days, or from wrapping them around his hips as he fucked you against the wall. It was not really a complaint, nor something you cared to stop, but it was an unexplained change in Halsin.
Even early in the morning, just after meditating, he was ready to go again.
“My heart” he sighs in you ear, “how is it possible that I want you more every day? Every time I lay eyes on you, you’re more beautiful than I remember. It overcomes me and I just need to hear you, taste you, experience you”.
You feel his erection pressing on your backside as he slowly grinds against you. His hand that rested on you hip sliding down to now sit just under your belly button, waiting on an invitation to move lower.
“My heart, how are you not tired or sore?” you ask, half joking and half truly wondering where this drive suddenly came from.
~
It started three days ago. While bending down to put away a few things in the kitchen in a low cabinet he swept up behind you, grabbing your hips with such force he nearly yanked you off your feet. “Such gorgeous hips” he murmured in your ear, his massive torso bent over yours, dwarfing you entirely “I need you. Now” he growled in your ear.
It was more worked up then you had ever seen him, his whole body heaved with every breath and word and his hands dug into your hips with clear intent.
“Then take me” you replied.
Halsin did not waste a moment. He swiftly hooked a finger into the waist of your pants and pulled them along with your underwear down in one fluid motion. One rough hand immediately slipped down your front between your legs to find your clit and begin rubbing it while the other found your breast. You felt the tip of his shaft seeking entrance to you and you rose to your tip toes to make it easier. He quickly found the entry he craved and sank his full length into you, causing you to bite back a yelp. Halsin was large in every aspect of his being, from his physical size, to his personality, to his emotions, to his cock and right now without any sort of warmup you were especially reminded of that.
This was much rougher than his usual self. Halsin usually preferred things on the firmer side, as did you, neither of you were exactly fragile and pushing limits had its fun, but this was something else all together. From the beginning his pace was brisk, a sort desperation to his movements as if he felt like he was going to explode if he did not have you right then and there. And you and never been so aroused.
You let out a moan as you relaxed and adjusted to him, letting do as he wished and enjoying his sudden forwardness. The moan seemed to spur him on, pushing him to thrust even deeper now that you had relaxed enough to fully accept his length and it felt incredible.
“Gods you feel so good, fuck” you moaned and swore he felt larger than previous times.
Halsin was very much a man of give and take, of slow methodical pleasure. This however, was more base, almost instinctual feeling in comparison.
His breath was heavy in you ear, a strong departure from his usual verbosity. Where he typically sung your praises instead you were met with growls and panting.
You were shoved into the cabinet over the course of his thrusting, the edge of the counter digging into your hips, Halsin’s torso flush against your back was keeping you pinned against the furniture, preventing you from moving, not that you wanted to be anywhere else. He kept his pace steady as he rubbed your clit and his teeth found the side of your neck, biting harder than he normally did, his nails dug into your breast where his hand was pinned between you and the counter.
Breathing was difficult from his weight pressing down on you, but it only seemed to intensify everything. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you felt yourself getting close, every stroke filling you fully and pushing you to the edge. A wordless whine crept into your voice mixed with short gasps, you did not know how much more you could take, but you wanted this to last as long as possible.
This directness from him, the lust, the dominance, it was such a different side of him. Before Halsin, you had been the dominant one in all your encounters, then with Halsin while you swapped who was in the lead you would not say either of you was truly dominant. This though? This reminded you of an animal in heat; intense, rough, not just a want but a visceral need driven by something subconscious. Being desired so carnally, at such a base level lit a fire in your belly in a way few other things ever had.
Your finish washed over you, an intense buzz that started between your legs and dispersed through every inch of your body. You howled and panted his name like you never had before.
Halsin continued his relentless pace and pulled you closer to him even. His breathing was ragged and hot on you neck and you were suddenly acutely aware of how small you felt compared to him as you basked in the afterglow and tried to catch your breath.
“Fuck me full” you told him, “make me feel every last drop”.
This seemed to put him over the edge, he pumped into you hard, nearly enough to knock the breath out of you and moaned loudly.
You did feel it, every drop flooding into you and dripping down your leg, every twitch of his cock as he met his release. Halsin remained in you, gasping for air and coming back down to the ground.
Air flooded your lungs as he leaned his weight off you and his kisses peppered your back and shoulders. You straightened yourself out and assessed the state you were in: bruises marked your hips where you were bent over the counter, nail marks dug into your breast, and you were certain you had bite marks on your neck. Not that any of it mattered, you loved seeing his marks on your body.
“I’m not complaining, but that was… intense” you broke the silence.
“I’m sorry my love, I just needed you so badly” he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“Oh don’t apologize, it was incredible. I didn’t know you ever got like that. You were so dominant, so, I don’t know? Instinctual? I don’t know if that’s the right word but I have never been so turned on”.
“Oh!” He said in surprise, “well, in that case, I can definitely promise you more”.
~
Over the next 3 days it continued much the same. Any time you bent over, or showed much skin, or really did much of anything there was Halsin, begging you to let him fuck you. Every ask was tinged with heavy desperation and lust previously unknown to you, and the moment you let him it was a torrid of rough sex in the first position he could get you in.
You lay there now in bed, naked with his cock pressed against your backside. Your legs are sore, your back is sore, every bit of you inside and out is on the verge of raw.
“My love, my heart, I am loving all of this but I concede, I can’t keep up. What’s come over you?” you ask.
“Come over me? No this is pretty normal for now” he answers.
“Normal? For now?” you ask again.
“Yes, this time of year is typically mating season for bears” he said matter of factly, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.
“You aren’t a bear”.
“No, but you spend enough time as one and the instincts start to stick around afterwards”.
At this point you could not tell if he was serious or not. The whole thing was so matter of fact, but you had never heard anything about wildshape affecting a Druid like that.
You took a deep breath to gather your thoughts before beginning “Alright, so, right now you-“
“Want to fuck you against every surface in this house and surrounding forest until my scent covers every inch of you and you’re carrying our child. If you’ll let me”.
“And you remember that that’s not possible right? Even long before I met you I’ve been too stabbed and banged up to ever be able to carry a child. Something I’ve told you and that you said that you were alright with”.
“I’m aware, but instinct is instinct and I’m more that happy to try. Especially if that means we’ll just try forever”.
That answer satisfied you.
“I can be happy with that. But one last thing my love”.
“Anything. Say the word and there’s no length I wouldn’t go to fulfill your wish”.
“Find some positions that don’t hurt my thighs so much. Because if you pin me to the wall again there’s no way my legs are going to hold out”.
Halsin let out a deep laugh, a true and joyous laugh. “My love! I wished you had said something sooner! My thinking isn’t the clearest right now but if I had known-“ out of the corner of your eye you saw the gentle warm glow of healing magic as the hand that had been resting just under your bellybutton moved to your sore legs, “I would have helped with that”.
Much of the soreness and ache recedes as the soft glow fades.
“Actually one more thing, there’s been a few times I’ve been a little raw- uh- inside from all of this. Is there anything that can be done…?” you trail off.
“Yes! There are a few things I can make, perhaps a salve that provides some extra lubrication and maybe something a bit cooling feeling? I could do that, would that work?”
“I think so, and I’d be more than happy to try at any rate”
You feel him press your hips back against his and the throb of his still erect cock on your skin.
“Out of bed. Now. Salve first, trying to breed me after”.
Halsin sighs, not like he could complain about anything. He stumbles a bit as he attempts to pull his pants on, any attempt at salve making would require getting ingredients from the forest and town, and one of those requires pants.
“And love!” you call as he walks out the door, “If that salve works and you keep me from being so sore I’ll start wearing a shorter dress around the house with no panties, or maybe just nothing at all. I’ll give you blanket permission for the season to fuck me whenever you want, like nature intended”.
You had never seen Halsin move so fast to go get the shopping done.
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theavocadosthree · 2 months ago
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Random Headcanons I have for Steve Rogers~
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Steve Rogers is a man of habit, he has set times he does things, and like sto keep things in order to the best of his ability. His life can be chaos and *is* chaos.
He doesn’t have to set an alarm in the morning because it’s been engrained in his head since basic training to get up at exactly 05:00. That’s when they would play the horn at Camp Leigh, when he had to be up every single morning for their routine bed check and warmups.
Steve is a sucker for quiet mornings, taking time when he can, since time is all he has ever known. He has his morning ritual of blowing off steam in the morning and clearing his thoughts for the day by going on a run. The cool crisp air in the morning reminds him a little of going in the ice. It’s his way of pushing himself further on his runs, the faster he runs, the harder he pushes, the warmer he will feel and less familiar he will feel.
Sometimes he goes alone. Other times with Sam. When he goes with Sam he’s able to take his time…for the most part till he realizes how fast he’s running. Some times when he does run he forgets how fast he can go at times.
When he first started working out and running after the serum he forgot he didn’t need to carry around that old bulky inhalers they used to have back in the day. He still every once in a while will pat down his pocket before his run to see if his inhaler is there before doing any “strenuous” activity. Only to remember that he doesn’t need it anymore.
As much as Steve loves swing jazz, Marvin Gaye grew on him and had opened his music taste. He likes some soul music and doesn’t like spending tons of money on new records. Going to thrift stores confuses him at times because most of the stuff there is from between his time suspended. He will however search through the vinyl records at some antique stores when it’s most quiet and will grab whatever soul and jazz records they may have there.
Steve likes to cook and will listen to his records while either reading a book on his down time, cooking, or when he is sketching. Cooking brings him back to when his mother would care for him when he was sick, he’s tried many times to re create the chicken soup she would make for him.
going back to Steve pushing himself when he feels cold, that feeling…cold…chilly…getting goosebumps, it all brings back some harsh memories. It reminds him of the ice, how he had tried so desperately to get bucky to take his hand before he had plummeted to his “death” from the frozen abyss below the train, to the feeling of waking up still feeling a bit cold when they were defrosting him. Steve in this case will dress warm and his favorite season is summer, where he can’t feel cold. He can’t feel what still haunts him despite having his best friend back.
He likes wearing sweaters and joggers, and always bundles up during the winter time. Steve, when he first moved into the avengers tower, would piss Tony off with how high he would set the thermostat at night, though he eventually understood and that’s when he would make small quips as usual about how ‘Capsicle is gonna melt with how high the thermostat is.’
Please reblog and like to lemme know if you want more headcanons, or send me asks!
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demie90s · 1 day ago
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Diane with a young reader who has a child???
𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢 X 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞?
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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓, 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You weren’t supposed to be on her radar. Twenty, a rising star in your own right, and a mom to a toddler who’s already got better court vision than half the league. Diana? She doesn’t do distractions. But you’re not a distraction—you’re direct.
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Slow burn | Age gap | Soft found family | Protective mama energy meets intense vet energy
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Mentions of single parenthood, emotional vulnerability, light cursing, Diana being both intimidating and gentle
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~
ᴠɪʙᴇ: “I’ve got her.” “You sure?” “I don’t say things twice.” And you believe her. Because Diana doesn’t make promises she won’t keep. Especially not to little girls in bunny sneakers who call her ‘Di-Di’ and smile when she ties their laces.
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I was just here to work—signed on as a reserve for a Phoenix practice block, getting reps, proving I could handle minutes if they came. I was 20, barely past my rookie year overseas, and a mom to a two-year-old who thought the world revolved around juice boxes and glitter socks.
Her name’s Noeli.
She was sitting courtside on a folded towel, munching Goldfish out of a plastic container while I did drills.
And Diana Taurasi was on the other end of the court, shooting like the basket owed her money.
I noticed her before she noticed me. Because how could I not?
She moved like pressure. Like she didn’t have to prove anything but still made everyone feel like they should.
I didn’t expect her to look my way.
But then Eli dropped one of her Goldfish, and I jogged over to pick it up.
And I caught Diana looking—not at me. At her.
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After practice, I toweled off and sat next to Lila, tying her shoelaces for the third time.
She leaned into me, sticky fingers in my hair, whispering loud: “That lady scary.”
I laughed under my breath. “She’s not scary. She’s just… serious.”
Behind me, I heard a low voice: “That lady can hear you, y’know.”
I turned.
Diana stood there, towel over her shoulder, a bottle of water in one hand. She wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t look mad either.
Eli blinked up at her, wide-eyed, then buried her face in my neck.
I almost apologized, but Diana tilted her head.
“She’s yours?”
“Yeah.” I rubbed her back. “She’s not always this shy.”
Diana nodded, slow. “What’s her name?”
“Noeli.”
Diana crouched slightly, still holding her water. “Hi, Noeli.”
Eli peeked at her. Whispered, “Hi Di-Di.”
I froze.
Diana did too.
But then she exhaled something that might’ve been a laugh.
“I’ve been called worse,” she said.
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After that, something shifted.
Diana didn’t start talking more. Not really. But she nodded at me during warmups. Tossed me the ball once when I wasn’t expecting it. And once, after a hard scrimmage, when I was packing up and Eli was asleep on a rolled-up hoodie, she walked over and asked—
“You good?”
I looked up, tired, sweat drying.
“Yeah. Just tired.”
She looked at Eli . Then back at me.
“I don’t know how you do both.”
I shrugged. “One play at a time.”
She nodded like that meant something to her. Before she left, she looked over her shoulder.
“If you ever need someone to watch her—when you’re shooting—I’ve got her.”
I blinked. “You sure?”
Diana’s voice didn’t waver.
“I don’t say things twice.”
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Now.
It was supposed to be five minutes. I just needed to run tape with the trainers.
“Can you watch her?” I asked.
Diana didn’t even blink. Just nodded once and sat down on the bleachers like she’d been waiting for the question.
I left Eli with her. Bunny sneakers, glitter socks, sticky fingers and all.
When I came back?
I stopped in the hallway and stared.
Eli was sitting sideways in Diana’s lap, watching something on an iPad. Her hair—wild and frizzy from a half-day of chaos—was now parted down the middle. Crooked, messy, but clearly braided.
Diana Taurasi was braiding her hair.
One piece at a time. Fumbling a little. Concentrated. Her brow furrowed like this was a fourth quarter free throw and not a tiny girl’s scalp.
Eli was mid-explanation about something on the screen. “And then the blue dog gets mad, and he says ‘ruh roh,’ and—”
Diana nodded like she understood every word.
“Yeah? That’s intense.”
Eli giggled. “You’re funny, Di-Di.”
I didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Just watched as Diana reached for another rubber band and secured the worst braid I’ve ever seen like it was sacred.
Then she looked up—and caught me.
“Hey,” she said like nothing was happening.
“You braided her hair,” I said.
“Don’t judge it.” She glanced down. “She told me not to pull too hard. I followed instructions.”
I smiled. Walked over.
Eli turned, reached for me, then paused—halfway between me and Diana. Then she wrapped her arms around Diana’s neck like it was nothing.
Diana froze for a second. Then hugged her back.
“She’s good,” she said softly. “She’s really good.”
I didn’t answer. Just sat next to them. And Diana didn’t move away.
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