#they hate each other but they kiss behind the stage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitchlessdino · 6 months

Note

hello! 🤍 can i request a bad boy type wonwoo having a soft spot for also a cold type reader?

like they always acting so cold towards other people and even both of them acting like they hate each other.

and people are like "oh there is no way they can date", but wonwoo is only kind to reader and viceversa even without them noticing

Oh, and they dont even realized their feelings until reader feels jealous when they saw wonwoo with someone else and thats when they realized about it, but are afraid to said something since reader doesnt know how wonwoo will react

Kinda angst maybe, but fluff at the end

take your time btw! 🤍 it is also totally okay if is not possible, hope you are having an excellent day 🌸

Pairing: wonwoox gn!reader Genre: slight angst, fluff, slice of life Word count: 6.3k tags: mentions alcohol, childhood au, biker!wonu, frienemy!wonwoo, possible love triangle, reader called a bitch, presence of violence and imminent danger, analogy using car wrecks, mc and wonwoo stilling living with their parents as adults because that's normal ok, kinda messy, intimates kisses Summary: Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you're questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed? author note: this was collecting dust but finally she is here. just in time for wonwoo to be in my bias list 🙂

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch

You will never willingly be associated with Jeon Wonwoo.

His mom had just happened to be someone your mom knew. Someone that she hadn’t talked to or seen in a long time. Long enough to have built their own families and have their kids without realizing it. It was as if they fell back into place. A long-time childhood friendship that quickly rekindled in a grocery store one day. From that day on, your families were inseparable. As long as they were still friends, you’d see each other every day.

“Why would I babysit some weirdo kid? I have better things to do.”

The problem was he wanted nothing to do with you.

When you met him the first time, you were a child barely getting around to a bike without training wheels, and Wonwoo was meeting the first stages of fungal acne. He was a bit older than you were then and his mom had given him the duty to look after you, the neighbor’s kid. The neighbor’s weirdo kid.

His mom bragged to yours about how good of an older brother he was to his younger brother, Seonwoo, but that seemed that seems to be his limit. Having freshly turned a teen, it all made sense. Wonwoo didn’t know you, and all of a sudden in his growing years he’s stuck taking care of a kid he knows by association. Understandably, he’d have that teen angst.

You didn't mean to overhear. You just happened to eavesdrop behind a pillar that day in their obnoxiously nice house when you came across him and his mother talking privately. Admittedly, you hadn’t made the best impression, but you were any kid in their single digits: annoying, talkative, maybe skeptical. But you were a kid. A kid that got their feelings easily hurt.

Despite saying such hurtful words, Wonwoo listened. He treated you with care–consideration almost–following his mother's orders, but you didn't make it easy for him. Every group breakfast, every dinner, every ride to school. You became relentless. You knew how he really felt about your situation after all. Your mind was made up at that point.

If he wanted nothing to do with you, you wanted nothing to do with him.

“Keep walking.”

Your eyes barely glaze over at the unfamiliar figure before waving off your hand as if dismissing a nuisance, which in this case was accurate. The unsolicited stranger scoffs, getting up from his unwelcome seat, hacking and spitting on the spot on the floor next to your chair. “I don’t fuck with bitches anyway.”

You roll your eyes as you shoo him away with the flick of your wrist again, then feel another unwanted presence join you in your once peaceful solitude. You tightly shut your eyes in frustration before taking a deep exhale, finding silence impossible under your circumstances. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeon.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you hear Wonwoo arrogantly chuckle, shrugging off the thick leather off his shoulders and setting them on his lap as he takes a seat.

With your back turned to him, you imagine the pristinely lit smile on his face he gives when he’s amused, a rarity in these parts with the exception of you, someone he’s known long enough to recount every blemish that once appeared on your face. He watches you finish the rest of your drink, the bob of your throat shifting before you pull the glass away from your lips. Your resting bitch face is still intact after all these years.

“Good, keep it that way.”

Wonwoo could have chosen to keep the peace as he said he would, but it was just too easy with you. Even after you’ve left for college and come back, he acts as if nothing has changed. In his eyes, you were still that same angsty kid who always has something snarky to say when he’s around. And man, did he always have just as smart a rebuttal. “It’s just, that was the fifth guy you’ve scared off—course, the guy was a moron—but you like dying alone, Frosty?”

Frosty. The Snowman. Much unlike the jolly creature, however, you were given that name being somewhat of a cold character, particularly to Wonwoo and anything he witnesses face the wrath of your harsh but honest judgment.

You begin getting up from your seat, scowling at the abhorred nickname, the prediction of this dinner a mistake an accurate calculation. “Should’ve known you’d run your mouth. Tell mom I’m heading to the store across the street.”

Your mother was so proud to have you back home for a period before you’d find a new place again, and she insisted on holding a small intimate gathering at bar type restaurant. That meant sharing the space with other patrons, the Jeons, and unfortunately Wonwoo, who only grew more irritating than you last remember.

“I’ll tell her, but I’m coming with.”

The caretaker role he was bestowed upon so long ago seems to resonate with him still, insisting on trailing behind you with nonchalance. To which you answer with a brash:

“Fuck off.”

Your eyes go to the back of your skull the nth time tonight before you’re off on your stroll, noticing the annoying scrap of Wonwoo’s heel following behind you after he waves your mom and the rest of the party farewell. You ignore him, darting towards the antique shop that warms your stomach with nostalgia, hearing the wind chimes clang when you enter with a cool musk breeze to follow.

“That all you have to say to me? Even if you hate me, there has to be some…sentiment.”

You finger through the old hardcovers, eyes scanning over the aged wood of the shelves until they move on to the glossy wood of the cuckoo clocks on the walls. “Not even a little bit, Jeon.”

There’s the breathiness of his scoff that lingers in the musk air. He crosses your arms, the leather rubs loudly against itself. “Well, that’s sad to hear,” he responds, not sounding sad at all.

“Don’t you have an actual sibling to bother? Why are you being a nuisance to me?”

He simply shrugs. “Seonwoo isn’t back from his work-study just yet. Plus he’d be happy to know I kept you company.”

Unlike Wonwoo, Seonwoo was actually tolerable, pleasant even. If you were envious of Wonwoo for anything, it was having a nice little brother like Seonwoo. You weren’t exactly close but he was a nice kid, a lot nicer than Wonwoo anyway, and not at all that annoying kind of nice that chirps every two seconds.

You sigh. “Now that’s actually sad to hear.”

“I knew you’d say that. You always liked him better than me.”

Only because you never liked me in the first place.

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh my god, Wonwoo?”

A shrill voice beckons from the store entrance, an older version of a girl from your adolescence runs towards you both. “I thought I heard your gorgeous voice. Gorgeous face as well as always, how are you?”

Gina also grew up in the same neighborhood you both did and was typically nice, but around Wonwoo, she seemed to lose all train of thought since all her eyes could train on was him. She bats her eyelashes the same flirtatious way several years ago, and instinctively her body is drawn to him like mosquitos to blood, drinking in masculine appearance for all its worth.

If you were anything like her, you’d get it. Wonwoo is an attractive man by society's standards, but the truth of the matter is you can’t stand him. And you know deep down he can’t stand you. His fake politeness isn’t fooling anybody. Okay, that is a lie. His fake politeness doesn’t fool you, but his limitless charm made everyone else weak in the knees.

“Good, good.” He nods cordially, a smile drained from his face only leaving a straight stare, eyes only landing on Gina momentarily before they return to you.

Gina finds his gaze’s target before the light is slightly dimmed from her initially bright eyes. “And you too. Oh gosh, you must’ve got back too. Can you believe we’ve both graduated from college?”

You wonder if she does, considering you did graduate from the same university.

“Yeah, it’s…crazy.” You answer, sounding unintentionally sarcastic.

Gina awkwardly chuckles, eyes back on Wonwoo as if they never left. “All we need is Seonwoo and it’s like the musketeers again, huh?”

Hardly the musketeers when she only ever stalked Wonwoo the entire time. You’re surprised you didn’t find she didn’t follow him all the way to the bathroom too.

Wonwoo’s cold expression is a steel cage that lacks interest. He blindly nods, mumbling “sure,” and not giving any other sign of continuing the conversation.

“Well, you guys should totally make it to my housewarming party. I’m inviting all the other guys from the neighborhood. Invite Seonwoo too! It’ll be a nice way to catch up.”

“We’ll think about it,” Wonwoo answers, giving her another curt nod.

“I’ll be really, really grateful if you did.”

There are stars in her eyes, like a treat is dangling in front of it, that treat being a six-foot body of steel and perfect Wonwoo.

“Right,” he grunts.

She finally waves you both goodbye before making it past the glass doors with a quirk in her step.

You continue to peruse the rest of the store, picking up that one wooden statue that’s never been sold, or if it has, it keeps getting returned. It makes you wonder if it’s cursed. “Just reject her already and let her move on. Even I feel sorry for her.”

“I’m not ready for the aftermath of all that.”

You really have to unlearn that eye roll of yours. You could tell it’s giving you a headache. “Of course you aren’t.”

“You’re not going, are you? The thing she mentioned?”

“This the first time you met me? Of course, I’m not going. You are?”

He shrugs. “A party never hurt anybody.”

“Without an address?”

He pulls out his phone with a notification as clear as day, Gina’s Instagram handle ushering him with details of where the party whereabouts. “Who said I didn’t have an address?”

“She really needs to find a hobby.”

Wonwoo chuckles, tucking the phone back in his front pocket. “Ready to head back now? Unless you want to look through the store a second time.”

You groan. “Stop policing me. I’m going home.”

“I’ll take you.”

You raise your brow. “On your fucking death trap? No thanks.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms, the leather of his jacket speaking out of turn again. “You say that as if people aren’t begging to the back of my Harley.”

“Only people with a death wish.”

That goes on for some time until you make yourself walk the mile before your feet give out. Wonwoo obviously is the first with a smile on his face before he forces you to get the rest of the couple miles on the back of his bike, which was admittedly prettier in person than the photos your mom showed you.

There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you get on—no doubt regret—questioning the proximity. “Hold on,” he says, to which you answer, “fat fucking chance.”

Your spiteful words are wasted as you find yourself tugging on him as you speed off on the vehicle from hell on the freeway.

“You’re an asshole!” You scream from your lungs.

“And I told you to hold on!” He screams back, a wide smile on his face you have no way of seeing.

You desperately wrap your arms around his torso, your life flashing before your eyes like a movie. All you hear is the wind in your ears while the traffic lights are hardly visible through your tightly shut eyes. You feel your soul leave your body, thinking nothing but the idea of an afterlife. If there was one good thing about the predicament you’re in, it’d be that he can’t see the terror in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much you want to scream bloody murder.

Before you know it, you arrive home safe and sound, the gas stopping at the curb of your house. He abruptly uses the bike break and you crash against broad shoulders, and you exude bumbling idiocy as you cling to him like a baby with separation anxiety. Oxygen finally enters your brain and you recognize your compromised position, forcing your grip off of him. You unbuckle and shove his helmet into his lap as you get off, a permanent scowl on your face.

“Fuck you.”

“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Frosty.”

You don’t forget that encounter back then and you never get a chance to with your mom finding any excuse to see the Jeons day after day since your arrival. If that perfect apartment with affordable rent were to drop at your feet at a perfect time just when you so desperately needed it, it’d be now.

“Bring that in over next door. The Jeons will be thrilled to see their fridge stocked. And remember I’ll be gone until the morning.”

“We just gave them homemade wine yesterday. Mom, just because they live next door doesn’t mean we always have to plan to meet. We see them anyway.” You grab the cumbersome container of whatever it was anyway and hold it to your side like like a football, a strained expression on your face.

“You need to understand the value of lasting relationships. That’s why you’re still single, honey.”

You roll your eyes, groaning as you trod off, not wanting to start up another one of lectures why you're in your mid-twenties room with hardly any men in your books let alone in your court. Better off facing Jeon Wonwoo again than that, you guess.

You knock on their familiar white door, awaiting an answer from the other side. Soon enough you hear a masculine voice, but a voice that isn’t quite Wonwoo’s. The boy's fresh face on the receiving end piques your interest, an expression telling of a life of light and ease. Seonwoo stares back at you with a smile before politely waving. “It’s good seeing you! Been a minute.”

You find yourself returning a gesture, relaxing your arms. “It has. Mom wanted to send things over. Again.”

“Of course. Come in.”

You leave the box of goods in their fridge, feeling the presence of the younger Jeon follow behind you like a benevolent puppy. “Did you get in yesterday?”

“This morning. Early flight.”

You grin. “Singapore doing you good, I see.”

“Nothing like home though.”

You softly chuckle, “Yeah, there isn’t.”

Your conversation is cut short with another family coming down the stairs, one that looks ready to leave. They meet your eyes in amusement and his steps begin to falter in turn. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Don’t you dare make a joke about me missing you. It wasn’t funny any of the first five times.”

He’s smug as expected, entertained by the fact you’ve kept count. “I won’t, but it won’t make it any less true.”

You scoff. “Live in reality for once in your life, Wonwoo.”

“I will when you do.” He comes to the kitchen—briefly passing by you to do so and grazing your forearm—to fill a glass of water and downs it, his signature jacket thrown over his shoulders. He let out a refreshed sigh in your direction and put it away as soon as he finished. “I’m leaving now. When you change your mind about missing me, I’ll be at Gina’s party. Might actually find some fun there while you’re at it.”

The door closes behind him dramatically and your attention is right back on Seonwoo, the successful bystander. “Your brother is annoying.”

The young man smiles, finding the nostalgia in that small event. “Reminds me of the good old times.”

“Well, I should get going.”

“You’re going to the party too?”

You shake your head. “Not the slightest bit interested. Just trying to keep myself busy while I’m still in town.”

“Plan on leaving already? You just got here.”

“I can’t live on my parents forever. Need to make a living of my own you know.”

He softly laughs, a warm light enveloping his presence. He always seems to emit pure joy. Like there was nothing that could ruin this kid's day. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still self-reliant.”

You can’t help but smile back, “… Wouldn't be me if I wasn’t. I'll see you later, kid.”

You walk back home and go on with the rest of your afternoon by carrying on the duties of a college graduate with no job: endless job hunting. You let yourself go on that way for an hour, already bored by rereading your applicant details and sending in copies and copies of cover letters and documents. Your eyes have started to see stars shooting from either corner, warning signs of mental fatigue.

Shaking the numbing feeling, you shut off your laptop and notice the time on the clock. In the back of your mind, you’re remembering that party Wonwoo ended up going to. These parties weren’t by any means rare, but it had been some time since you let yourself give into environments as such. You said you wouldn't go but in dire situations of weary silences, perhaps it would hurt to take a second in a new subsubspace. Something to take off the edge of the weight of your undetermined future.

Against your initial better judgment, you force yourself out of that house to enter that very party you said you wouldn't go to. So like Gina to make an event over a normal thing like this. You don’t put much thought into what you wear and leave the house and when you arrive late as you were, you are unsurprised by the huge turnout. Five seconds in, you’re already regretting the 10 bucks you paid via UBER to get there.

The house was so Gina. As expected of one of the daughters of the wealthiest families in town. As you enter, all you hear is music, loud and rambunctious voices and laughter, and shouts of barely adults chugging whatever concoction in those house party solo cups. It all quickly reminds you of college and high school, times in your life you were relieved to know were over.

Why did you decide to come again if you knew this was going to happen?

You try ignoring the voices that seem to recognize you, evading and walking through the place for a potential drink to buzz you out of self-consciousness. If you were going to be in a place like this, a drink was warranted by all means.

“Wonwoo, come on!”

Gina’s voice, easily distinguishable, resonates from the other end of the room and sees how her presence bounces like a kite in the wind. You look in the direction of her gaze to find the person she seeks, ultimately having Wonwoo being dragged by the wrist, his hair sweeping the swift breeze of her force. You were a bit relieved to see him, someone who is more similar to you in ways you’d never willingly admit.

You feel the urge to approach, curious how he’ll handle this one, but intentions all change of a brisk move, changing setting immediately. One second Gina looks up at him with doe eyes that speak longing and ache, another second her arms are looped around his neck and she pulls his lips against hers, massaging against them naturally as if rehearsed. Your feet stop, watching the unsightly scene like it’s a car crash as if in slow motion, taking you only a second to realize he hasn't yet let go.

Slowly then quickly, your chest pulls up like a marionette doll before it drops in a lump, repeating until the sound of your heart is rapidly pounding into your skull. You don’t understand it, but you don’t want to either. Swiftly, you duck back and turn your head in the other direction, having seen enough.

Then panic ensues.

People are harder to brush through than you realize. Colliding each one was like speed bumps in your way of a smooth departure. You were bound to have one person take a drunken offense to your rash movement and there it was: a subtle push that led to a spilled drink that stains the shirt of a man big enough to frighten children if he approached.

“Watch the fuckkk ya goin’!”

You don’t bother with the importance of apologizing or even acknowledging him. You realize it too late when he pulls at your collar back towards him, strangling you at the throat.

“S…stupid bitch can’t even see…fucking ruin my—hic—deink”

Your hands come around his grip, attempting to pry him off. “L-let me go. The fuck?”

“The fuck you say to me piece of shi—ah!”

He finally releases you when Wonwoo appears from behind him, tossing him out like an old ragdoll with no weight. The drunkard comes crashing down to the hardwood floor and before he realizes the cause of it, said cause whisks you away with his gril looping around your wrist.

“You’re going home right the fuck now,” Wonwoo grumbles, dragging you out of other guests' way and right out of the door, once again leading you to his motorcycle. “Bike now.”

“Wonwoo, what the fuck—“

“You aren’t an idiot. You knew what was gonna happen if I hadn’t stepped in. Now get on before fee fi fo fum finds out we left.”

“I’m not getting on that death trap again!”

His glare pierces right through you. “I know you'd rather be at home than here. Especially with the probability of becoming a statistic. Get on.”

He is right for the most part and even you’re seeing through your nonsensical defiance. Reluctantly, you follow his lead, knowing he’s left you with no other choice. You endure another near death experience, this time clutching on to him less resistantly unlike last time all the way back home. It is when you’re at the foot of your door you only realize the keys that were supposed to be in your pocket but left on the kitchen counter instead.

“Shit.”

Wonwoo quickly puts the pieces together. “No key?”

You shake your head, embarrassed slightly over your feeble appearance. “No, and mom won’t be back until the morning so I’m screwed.”

“Alright. You’re sleeping over.”

You scoff looking back at him, wondering whether he’s in the right state of mind to make that call. “You’re kidding.”

“Not unless you’re okay slumbering at the footstep of your door.”

Another choice made of your hands. You discouragingly follow after him as he unlocks the door across the street. Seonwoo was evidently still home with his loafers by the foot of the door but dead asleep upstairs in bed.

“You take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offers nodding in the direction of the living room.

“No thanks, I’ll take the couch.”

He groans, giving that irritated look. “Don’t be difficult and just sleep in the damn bed.”

You huff, strutting over towards the couch. “Sleep in your own damn bed, Jeon. Stop treating me like you’re my babysitter.”

He follows after you, crossing his arms like an annoyed mother, “You’re really gonna be like this?”

“I’m not being like anything.”

“You know what?” He grabs the throw pillow off the couch, “Fine. We’ll share the couch.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow back at him.

The smug smile on his face says it all, knowing there was no rebuttal to follow. “Neither of us will take the bed, we’ll both will take the couch.”

Before you can argue, he ascends the stairs for more bedding and comes back to toss you a blanket and pillow. He keeps one of each for himself, sprawling on the other end of the massive couch, gesturing you to do the exact same. Cautiously, you mirrored his image, crawling under your borrowed blanket. Despite your feet not touching, you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the close proximity, forcing you to crunch up your legs and bring your knees close to your chest.

Wonwoo’s eyes drop in place, nuzzling into his thick blanket. “Good night.”

“Whatever.”

He softly scoffs with a smile, basking in the silence. Meanwhile, there was you, wondering why you listened to his instructions so willingly. You sigh, your eyes glued to the ceiling counting every bump and curve of its textured surface.

“This is stupid it’s literally 10 pm”

“Sounds like bedtime.”

You peek back at him, his eyes still closed. “You did not go to a party to plan on sleeping at 10 pm.”

“You don’t know what my plans are. Sleep now.”

“I could’ve handled it, you know,” you argue.

“I bet you could’ve,” he responds dryly. “Wasn’t gonna take that risk though.”

“I’m serious…you didn’t have to, especially since…”

“What?”

“You know,” you take a moment to form the words, “whatever that was with Gina.”

You hear him scoff, shifting on his side of the couch. “Nothing was happening with Gina.”

You let out a parched laugh, in disbelief of the words leaving his lips. “Wow, that lie comes so easy, does it?”

“Believe what you want. It’s not what you think anyway.”

“You’re so…obnoxious,” you sputter.

“Thank you.”

“So when did that happen? You and Gina?”

He huffs hot air out of his nose.“There’s no me and Gina. I don’t know what you saw, but…it’s nothing.”

“You were kissing.”

“You could call it that.”

“For a while,” You add.

“Just enough for her to find closure.”

“And did she?”

“Saved your ass before I could find out.”

You have no response to that and you let the silence take over for a few minutes. After those few minutes, Wonwoo was the one to break the peace.

“You asleep yet.”

“No, it’s not even 11,” you answer exasperatedly.

“Well, I'm tired.”

“Go to sleep then.”

“You should sleep before I do.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, “I'm supposed to take care of you. It’s what your mom would want.”

“Why? I'm a grown adult.”

“I don’t think an explanation is needed.”

“Ever heard of personal space?”

“Make some smart decisions and I’ll consider it.”

“You’re such a dick,” you grunt, turning away from view.

“I’m only trying to protect you.”

This shit again. You pushed yourself up from the couch to sit up, fuming in his direction. “Because your mom asked. Okay, I get it, but you’re not obligated to anymore because I’m your mom's friend’s kid. Just stop.”

“That’s not why–”

“Stop lying–”

“I’m not fucking lying,” he says matching your stance. His gaze meets yours in anguish, urging you to drop it.

You scoff, lying back down in a sleeping position with your back turned towards him. “Whatever.”

“...Despite popular belief, I’m actually concerned about you sometimes.”

“I guess…I don't entirely find that hard to believe.”

“Thank you. It’s not like I hate you.”

“Sure,” you answer, voice basted in sarcasm.

“I don’t.” You hear his body shift back down on the couch, finding comfort between the leather cushions.

“Then why are you such a dick.”

He sighs. “Sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“...Sorry.”

You ponder to yourself, wanting to turn back the clock to the earlier conversation for unknown reasons. You turn your body, seeing how his body mimics your body seconds ago, back turned, eyes closed, and facing the couch. “So if not Gina–”

“There’s no one,” he cuts off, “I mean, I'm not seeing anyone.”

It reassures you. Not that it should’ve. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Okay.”

You’re unsure when you drifted off, you only remember it being mid-conversation that your vision started to blur, followed by darkness and soon the light of the following morning. You wake up in Wonwoo’s house unexpectedly alone, quiet enough to hear the sound of a pin dropping. You enter the kitchen, parched, and you find a plate of food. You approach cautiously, catching a glimpse of the note, immediately catching on to why it was so damn empty.

Went to get stuff done. Keep yourself entertained for a bit. - Wonwoo and Seonwoo

With an impish grin, you quickly run your fork over and over into the balanced meal and nourish your body, but slow down as your subconscious reminds you of last night's events. It wanders to your impulse to attend a party out of sheer boredom, stumbling upon an unexpected scene, before immediately trying to escape it before you are caught. The kiss becomes a scene stuck on replay, playing the image like a broken record. You did not black out, though you wish you had, considering your uncalled-for badgering of Wonwoo’s relationship status you shouldn’t have cared less about. Yet do.

You try bruising it off if you can help it, quick to leave, and relieved to find your mom home to let you in. Your day begins a new, and with a new day, she already has stuff for you to do. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so grateful to be let back in home, remembering to grab your keys this time as you left the house again following her request for grocery shopping.

You drink in the town for the first time since being back, questioning yourself why you hadn’t done it earlier. The block isn’t that different since you left, perhaps more greenery and flowers, but otherwise everything looked the same. Same old town, same old stores, the only thing difference was the people. Fine lines got deeper, toddlers now taller, and you now a stranger. Even the grocery store has changed managers, one adolescent bag boy at a time.

Even long finished with grocery shopping, you’re still wandering the center of town, circling in steps of the alternating tiles of the ground. For a moment, you free yourself from your thoughts, your worries, your ambitions, and live in the moment. It had been so long since you felt like this. You expected the feeling to emerge in college but that had been just another thing on your plate and suddenly you’re reminded of Wonwoo. Knowing him, he’d like this sight of you, proud to see you experience another emotion for a change.

Then your eyes flit back to the scene several meters from you. He reappears in your vision just as he has in your thoughts, only now Gina embracing him, squeezing the life out of him just as the life is squeezed out of your chest. He meets your eyes, his pupils expanding, before lightly pushing the poor girl off of him, but not in enough time to stop you from trying to escape again.

“Hey!”

You ignore him, letting your feet take you where it guides you. You’re blind to the incoming obstacles, brushing past pedestrians, shoulder everybody you meet, and you barely register the busy road before your feet make an unexpected halt. You hear the blaring honks until you’re pulled out, face crashing into their shoulder, arms coming around your in strong enclosure.

“Are you stupid? Why are you running into oncoming traffic?”

You shove him off, heart beating louder in your chest than any bike ride he’s taken you on has, and you’re seething in an emotion that you never expected to be in. Never in this lifetime at least. “Wonwoo just stop. Please.”

“I’m not doing anything. I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away.”

“I’m just sick of this. Of you. I can’t do this.”

“Why? Why? What do you think this is?”

“Just, leave me alone, Wonwoo.”

He sees you trying to walk out on him again and he doesn’t let you. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards him, leaving only the width of your forearm as his gaze pierces right through you, brimming with a mix of concern and utter anger. Frustration. Impatience.

If there was one thing about Wonwoo, he may have looked like he came from an anger management class, but he did manage it well. When he didn’t, your feet would feel glued to the concrete, frozen in the fire of his eyes, for once fearing what the man had to say.

“You know what? No. I’m not letting you do this? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you hate me so much–”

“God,” you groan, “it would be so easy if I just hated you.”

“Then what is it? You don’t hate me. You don’t like me. What? I’m wracking my brain trying to understand you–”

You don’t let him finish. You aren't sure what was in the breakfast you had today but you find yourself pulling him by the collar to meet his lips only to push him away in that instant, barely a whisper of his presence in your mouth. You clamp your hand over your mouth before finally treading away shocked by your actions, scurrying away.

He doesn’t follow you and you don’t blame him. You retrieve your once-abandoned groceries from the intersection to then find your way home. Rain is close to follow, drenching from head to toe. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

When you get home, you’re alone once again. The door shuts with a clang and you’re left in your self wallow, regret burning the back of your throat. Your back slid against the wood, a deep exhale expelling from your lungs. “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Like clockwork, you feel a knock erupt from the same door. Conceding to whatever was on the other side, you brush yourself up from the ground and turn the knob, only to be taken aback. Wonwoo, wet like made from glass with his locks swept over his head, stands before you panting. On either hand is a bundle of flowers barely protected in the cellophane it came with when he bought them and his cell phone he’s death gripping in his hand, no doubt damaged by the rain.

You blink back at him, lips parting in confusion. “Wonwoo…You’re wet.”

“Likewise.” He invites himself in and sets the flowers on a table nearby, not even for a second letting his gaze stray from yours. “You left me hanging there. Kiss a guy and walk away like he means nothing?”

You shake your head in disbelief, processing this, him. “Why are you here…with flowers?”

“I really do have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” he responds smiling.

The squelch of his shoes trod in your direction, the invisible string connecting you two shortening. Preventing your evasion, you feel the palm of his hand against your back and your lips crash in a lingering reunion. The squeak of his slippery leather doesn't make it past your ears, distracted by the heat of his lips in the clash of the coolness of his rain-stained skin.

Your hand crawls up his neck to press him closer, feeling the strength of his arms wrap around you tighter before shutting the front door effortlessly with his foot. He lets you pin him against the door, lips tight bound to yours, and relief settles in his stomach as you show no sign of pulling away. He finds himself whispering a word of gratitude in every language, smiling against your lips. “No more excuses…I’m not letting anyone get in the way. Not even you.”

You finally break out in a smile, brushing it against his lips before reclaiming them, not minding the wet leather.

You spend the rest of the day in each other’s company. You put away the groceries before the room temperature worked against their favor and got yourselves changed out of your rain-dampened clothes, throwing them in the dryer. Even if he lived right next door, you allow him to wear your most oversized shirt after he insisted he should, watching the cotton fabric cling to his broad shoulders with the hem just hitting him at his hip bone.

Man, he’s a large man.

“Kinda snug.”

You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to hold yourself back. “You can get clothes next door. You’re just a few steps away.”

He grins, approaching you. “It’s raining…I could get sick.” His long arms land on either of your shoulders, reminding you of that cat that knew too much in a childhood cartoon. “You don’t want me sick…”

“You wouldn’t get sick taking two long strides to your house, Jeon,” you respond, rolling your eyes, unable to meet his.

“But you’d take care of me if I was, right?”

You roll your eyes, accepting his advances of a hug and feeling his chin fit in the crook of your neck. “Kiss a guy two times too many and he follows you around like a stray cat.”

He grins. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t. You probably even like my bike and you’re not telling me.”

“Okay well, no. Those are two separate matters.”

His arms wrap around you tighter before reuniting your lips, such tenderness and sweetness in his gaze as he thumbs over the curve of your cheek. “You don’t deny that other thing.”

“I thought was already point blank. You know, when I didn’t push you away, kicking and screaming.”

“Yeah, but,” he shrugs, his cheekbones only getting higher. “Hard to come by something nice from you. I want to hear it.”

You sigh, giving in. “Fine.”

Your head fit between the divide of his chest, hearing a quickened pulse underneath it. You close your eyes as your hand strokes against his back. “I have… feelings for you. Maybe for once good feelings. Just don’t get cocky about it.”

Overwashed with calm joy, he takes you tighter, inhaling the soap in your hair. “Too late.”

#svthub #wonwoo #wonwoo angst #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen #jeon wonwoo angst #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #jwon wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x you #jeon wonwoo x y/n

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nolovelingers · 9 months

Text

ETHAN LANDRY AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

headcanons — // cw ! : dark themes ,, obsession ,, nsfw !! just a reminder that this man is in fact a killer, it’s not gonna be all lovey lovey goody goody 24/7. !!

——————————————————————————

SFW !!

ETHAN LANDRY AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . would be an experience like no other. you’ve never met anyone quite like him, and though he can be one of the sweetest and most thoughtful boys you’ve ever met, he often has mood swings that can scare you heavily.

easy to anger, if you say one bad joke about him, do something he doesn’t approve of or if he catches you suddenly growing distant, he throws tantrums, yelling, punching things and performing the best crocodile tears you might’ve ever seen.

he’s never had a girlfriend before, and before you he’s never even held hands with a girl; so he doesn’t know quite exactly how to love properly, and it doesn’t help that he’s quite a twisted person all together since hes, well, a serial killer.

there is no inbetween with ethan. he will hate you, or he will love you obsessively. there is no “talking stage” or “getting to know each other” with ethan. he will jump straight to the point.

if he feels you slowly cutting ties with him or that you may try to leave him; he takes extreme measures. threatening to hurt himself, your family/friends, and if it gets drastic maybe even yourself. though he has absolutely no initial intention to harm you, if he feels he must just to get you to stay with him, he will do what needs to be done. nothing too bad of course, maybe just a few cuts.

however, if you’re good to him and give him nothing but your love and affection, the both of you will practically be on cloud nine the entire relationship.

he’s always wanted a girlfriend and you’ve made his wishes come true, he can never repay you for enough.

he gets jealous quite easily, and though he does a good enough job at hiding it in the moment, he’ll get quite confrontational when it’s just the two of you.

he’ll help you study, carrying all of your books for you, your bags, your backpack, keep your phone in his pocket when you have none, anything you need help with hes there to assist.

he can still get a bit shy around you even several months into the relationship, sometimes the feeling of love and joy he gets around you too much for him to wrap his mind around.

to be frank, he sucks at flirting. when he’s not hiding behind his fake personality; a shy schoolboy, he’s typically very blunt about things, straight to the point, or he’ll avoid it all together simply because he’s never had the practice of flirting. you’d need to give him a few tips.

he’s very dorky, actually. big into all sorts of movies, comics and shows. especially horror movies, not to be cheesy but they are just something he adores.

if you’re sensitive to horror movies, it’s even better. he loves when you jump, seeing your scared face as you clutch onto him for support, or hide your face under the blanket which never fails to make him smile.

however if it’s the total opposite, and horror does nothing to you, he’ll have no problem in taking on the roll of being scared just to get closer to you and have you soothe and cradle him in your arms, hiding his face in your neck and whining about the scary jump scares or the blood being too much.

your first kiss was honestly pretty bad. he had no idea what he was doing and he kissed you like how your mom would kiss your forehead after wishing you a good day at school. it was terrible, he didn’t go for your top or bottom lip, he literally touched his lips to yours and puckered up for a few seconds.

after practicing for a little bit though, he gets the hang of it and become a decently good kisser.

going into the relationship anytime you kiss it was a little awkward, he wouldn’t touch your body or your face, just lean his head in and expecting you to do the rest. as he gets more comfortable though he eventually becomes the type to rest one hand on your cheek and the other loosely behind your back.

he loves hickeys. he likes to give them, of course he does, marking you is one of the best experiences ever in his mind, but he has such a weak spot when he’s on the receiving end. begging you for more, chest rising and falling as you suck at his most sensitive spots, small groans of arousal falling out from his plumped lips, sore from the make out session you two had just shared while his mouth hangs slightly open and brows furrowed closely together in ecstasy.

if you try to cover the hickeys he gives you, he gets a bit offended. even if it was for school or because you had to see your parents, he would never dream of hiding the dark patches you gave him, from anyone, proud to show off the fact that you loved him; and he sees no reason why you would wish to conceal them. if he notices blobs of makeup trying to wash away the love marks depending on the mood he was in he’d either a) roughly rub the concealer off with his fingers, asking you why you’re so ashamed to be with him and guilt you to death, or b) purely suffer in silence, pouting at the sight and giving you the cold shoulder. not that it would last long anyway, he hates when you don’t talk.

ethan would kill for you. he really would. whether it be some poor old woman who knocked her cart into yours by accident at the grocery or some built guy who tried flirting with you on campus; it wouldn’t be even two days before the news reports them as deceased, brutally butchered with a knife.

he loves to take notes for you, dumbing them down better than how the teacher explained so it wouldn’t be so difficult for you to understand, taking a yellow highlighter and going over the key points of the lesson and marking a few (poorly drawn) doodles.

you lost your notes? don’t worry, take his entire notebook! oh, you only needed yesterdays history notes? well, now you have his entire notebook in your possession. it’s no big deal, he’ll just make more.

joining him in econ dates from time to time are a must. he loves study dates, and anytime you attempt to have one at his or your dorm it just ends in notebooks tossed aside and his lips on yours, so your safest bet to actually get work done is to just join him in econ. holding hands under the table and watching him do his work with a concentrated face.

he’s not the richest guy around, but if you want something he’s either going to buy it assuming he can afford it, or just kill and mug some person on the street for the money. trust me, he’s tried to steal before and it didn’t go so well. theft is not something he’s good at getting away with, so he’ll just stick to murder for the time being. he’s not good at being discreet or locating the cameras.

ethans smart, he genuinely is. he’s at the top of almost all of his classes and teachers favor him, which means they favor you. he was a genius before, however ever since he got with you he’s done nothing but excel even further.

he’s so proud to have you as his partner, you’re genuinely the thing he’s most proud of. the best part of him is you. his notes app is filled to the brim about everything there is to know about you, what you like, your past hyperfixations, important information, stuff you’ve mentioned you wanted.

you are both his home and lockscreen and everytime he sees your face pop up on his phone his heart flutters a bit.

you’re pinned to the top of his messages and the only person he has notifications on for. everyone else is on silenced, and he only has a total of 4 other contacts saved that aren’t you. his dad, his sister, chad and tara. he didn’t even bother for mindy, anika or sam; and besides them he knows no one else.

he’d drop anything for you in seconds, no matter how important it was. all you have to do is ask, and god forbid if you beg him. he’d drop to his knees right there. even if he was in the middle of an important family meeting about how to continue executing the ghostface plan, if you beg him to cancel (not knowing what exactly it was he had to do anyway) or even gloss your eyes slightly to give him the illusion of tears he’s all yours for the rest of the day.

he’s extremely touch deprived and is awkward when initiating it unless it’s something like slinging his arm over your shoulder, which he never once had a problem with. you’re usually always the first to initiate hand holding and cuddles, which he’s so grateful for. he doesn’t know how to go about asking.

when you do hold hands though, he’ll literally never let you go. even if you have to leave, do something with two hands or just try to remove your hand from his; he’ll tighten his grip (not so rough that it hurts) to stop you from doing do without even noticing, so you basically have to ask him to stop holding your hand which is far more embarrassing than just letting go, but he really doesn’t even notice when he does this.

he loves the way you smell, and there has definitely been a number of times where you catch him sniffing your hair on the perfume/cologne on your neck, potentially even asking you for the name of it so he can go out and get his own to spray on his pillows and a few of his shirts.

this also applies with your shampoo and conditioner. he doesn’t primarily use the ones that you do, but he’s got the exact type stored under a cabinet so that when he’s particularly missing you he’ll use them in his locks instead of his usual kind.

sharing headphones and having a joint playlist is a must with him. you two have a collaborative playlist that you both add songs to and listen to when you’re together that ethan has just started listening to constantly now.

he doesn’t have much social media. he doesn’t have snapchat. he does have an instagram that you forced him to download just so you could send him reels but he never posts on it. he has tiktok, but he’s literally just not logged in so he doesn’t have an actual account. he does have twitch though which is what he uses the most.

he’d never let anyone hurt you, and if they do he doesn’t just get angry, he becomes furious, their death much more brutal than any past ones. their was a time where he took a stab to the shoulder after quinn charged at you with a knife as ghostface, even after ethan specifically told her not to lay a finger on you. she hadn’t planned on killing you but she wanted to get a couple hits in, which ethan was extremely against. their father later lectured the both of them about the situation.

he specifically made sure you were at the hospital with mindy when the reveal went down.

NSFW !!

he really wasn’t lying about being a virgin, he had no idea how the body worked and he was always way too nervous to initiate anything sexual between the two of you.

you had definitely turned him on before, his dick growing hard at the sight or thought of you; and he always wondered what it would feel like to be buried deep inside you. or to have your pretty mouth wrapped around his shaft, gagging from his length and the vibrations of your moans sending shivers down his spine.

but no words could ever do justice to how it felt the first time you slept together.

he didn’t finish as fast as you assumed he would and actually did a decent job at holding out, but he definitely didn’t break any records or anything.

he’s 100% a switch, quick to go from whining and crying out for your touch to holding you down beneath him, hand pushing your jaw upwards and fingers carefully wrapped around you neck as he takes everything he wants and more; those are on his most aggressive days.

he loves receiving head more than he likes to give, but if you ask him he’s definitely eager to please you. he’s just nervous he’s not doing well, and to be quite honest he’s not the greatest at picking up your body language at what you’re enjoying and what you’re not unless you really make it noticeable.

one of his favorite things is the sounds you make. he absolutely hates it when you try to silence or muffle your noises, making sure to go harder or rougher so that you’re not able to even try.

he buries his head in your neck as he’s rutting into you, watching the way your body bounces around his dick and unable to stop his own sounds from falling out as his mind goes blank in ecstasy.

he’s more of a whiny and grunty type than a whimper guy, but there are definitely moments when a string of curses mixed with desperate whimpers fall from his lips.

when he’s feeling more violent and powerful, he’ll definitely take it out on you in the bedroom, pounding into you ruthlessly and breath shaking as a bead of sweat forms on his forehead, the only thing able to clear his mind is being deep inside of you.

started 08.05.23. finished 08.05.23.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n : idk how I feel ab this one it’s kinda low tier effort but wanted to get smth out today🙏 make sure to leave notes, reblogs and comment!!

©️nolovelingers 2023

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querenciasturniolo · 5 months

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headcannons ⮕ m.s

a/n: 75% boyfriend headcannons, 25% plus sized reader headcannons, but i definitely did my best !! @rainsoakedphoenix , i hope you enjoy, love 🫶🏻💓

❥ matt in the talking stage is very quick to reply, and always has something to add to the conversation. he’s flirty, but subtle about it, not wanting you to think he’s moving too fast, or give you the wrong impression.

❥ this dude is an absolute open BOOK. any question you ask him, he answers openly and honestly.

❥ he hates small talk, absolutely despises it. would rather talk about incredibly deep, philosophical things instead of a simple “how are you ?”

❥ would ask you “what are we ?” instead of just asking you out, idk man, dude’s complicated.

❥ he would not give a fuck about you being plus sized, not a single one. he likes you bc you’re a good person, and nothing else matters to him in the slightest than that.

❥ “get out of here, you’re perfect just how you are.”

❥ hands on your hips and waist when you’re out in public. i wouldn’t say he’s a fan of pda, but he isn’t one to not have a hold of you somewhere.

❥ in a more private setting ? dude is cuddly and needy as HELL. constantly holding you, whether it’s just your hand, his arm around your shoulder, standing behind you with his hands on your hips, shoulders, waist, you name it.

❥ on days where you’re insecure, he’s quick to snap you out of it. he can tell whether you need reassurance or a distraction without you even having to explain.

❥ HUGE on reading body language and tone of voice, can tell immediately if something is wrong just by the way you’re breathing.

❥ pet names for days. “baby”, “babe”, “love”, “beautiful”, “bunny” (fight me, i dare you), dude will throw in “toots” in an awful boston accent, just to make you laugh and see you roll your eyes

❥ whiny, whiny, W H I N Y. constantly asking for cuddles, kisses, hugs, scratches, everything.

❥ huge words of affirmation guy, never gets tired of hearing that you love him or your thanks for him doing something for you. essentially, he’s a giant puppy dog.

❥ always has his hand on your thigh when he’s driving oh my GOD

❥ instead of physical gifts for anniversaries, he’d give you love letters (i’m sobbing)

❥ dude is not afraid to post you anywhere, absolutely ADORES showing you off, even if it’s just of you sleeping in his lap, or an underview of you watching the tv and playing with his hair

❥ “what ? i can’t show off what’s mine ?” (kill me)

❥ supportive of you in every single aspect, not once has he ever looked at you and made you feel like you couldn’t do what you wanted

❥ lowkey possessive, but not in a toxic way ! just wants you all to himself, and gets whiny when you have to go or you have other plans and can’t come over. it’s mostly a joke, and he’d never ever do it if it actually upset you, he just truly does want you around all of the time.

❥ HUGE on setting boundaries early in the relationship, wants to know your ‘hell yes’s and ‘hell no’s IMMEDIATELY

❥ says “i love you” first, no ifs, ands or buts.

❥ “i love you, ya know ?”

❥ is blushing the entire time he’s trying to get it out, but relaxes when he sees your grin

❥ refuses to “argue”, dude only has constructive conversations where the two of you find a solution

❥ “it’s us against the problem, babe. not us against each other. what’s going on ?”

❥ three quick pecks every time one of you asks for a kiss, sometimes more, but never less, and he will absolutely pout if you ever short him.

❥ “what was that ? give me a real kiss.”

❥ some nights when his energy is low, and his social battery is almost completely gone, he’ll just lay with you with his head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat.

❥ he’s a little snippy on bad days, but he always catches himself.

❥ “i’m sorry, love. i shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

❥ B A N T E R, he’s a shit, for sure

❥ “oh yeah ? wanna say that to my face ?” (think lori and noah from tiktok)

❥ on days where your body image is bad, he stops what he’s doing and takes the time to just hold you, and reassure you that your body is beautiful.

❥ “look at me, hey. i love you, every single part of you.”

❥ star gazing dates, midnight drives to nowhere, movie nights in the living room, nights where the two of you just stare at the ceiling and enjoy each other’s company.

❥ “penny for your thoughts ?” “what are you thinkin’ about over there ?” “what’s on your mind, beautiful ?”

❥ never shies away from mentioning you on the podcast/in videos.

❥ “oh my god, my girlfriend loves that.” “holy shit, me and y/n were just talking about this !”

tags: @strniolo , @ssturniolo , @thetriplets3 , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @toyourloves , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @jellybeanbby , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo headcanon #sturniolo #querenciasturniolo

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ashwhowrites · 1 year

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heyy! i have a request that is kinda similar to affection which btw is my all time fav eddie angsty fic! anyways feel free to drop it cause you’ve already kinda written it. eddie and reader have been dating and their relationship is still fairly new and one night when they’re hanging out with everyone the reader overhears eddie telling everyone she’s clingy. thank you so much bby for all the amazing works you’ve shared with us 🤍🤍

Thank you so much!

"affection" is one of my favorites as well

I think I can change it enough where it won't sound the same!

Eddie wasn't huge on public displays of affection. In fact, he hated it. He hated someone constantly tugging on his arm. He didn't like to be hugged in front of a group. He refused to kiss in front of anyone. He only wanted affection in private.

Y/N never knew that. She thought showing each other off was adorable. She loved to be touched and to touch others. Her body physically couldn't handle being left alone. She needed reassurance of someone being there

So when she began to date Eddie, she didn't think twice about it. Easily sliding her hand into his as they walked through the hallways. Pecking his cheek before she ran off to class. She played with his hair when she sat behind him in class. Rubbing his leg with her foot during hellfire. She adored touching her boyfriend and she didn't think once that he didn't like it.

She always wanted to hangout with him. Her life at home was lonely and she didn't like to be left there. Always running over to Eddie's right after school and staying until she had to leave for bed. He never said a word, so how was she supposed to know?

Eddie tried very hard to never snap at her. They've been dating for two months and he was going insane. But the relationship was new, she was in the puppy love stage. Surely she'd get over that.

Then two months turned into four. And she was still clinging on to him. He knew she needed to feel a body against hers. Even before they dated she always hooked on to someone nearby. And now since he was her boyfriend, he was the default.

And maybe he was an ass for talking behind her back. A grade A asshole for telling his friends she was so damn clingy but he needed it off of his chest.

"she's just so clingy and I feel like I can't breathe. She's at my house every day for hours. I haven't had a moment alone in months. She's holding my hand, cuddling me, and kissing me in front of everyone. I don't know, I just feel like that stuff is for us when we are alone"

She was behind the wall, getting back from the bathroom. Heart cracking and insecurity flooded her body as her boyfriend told their friends she was clingy.

She knew she was, she just didn't see it as a bad thing. She'd love it if someone wanted to cling on to her. It would make her feel loved and appreciated. She wasn't hurt by being called clingy. She was hurt that he never bothered to tell her for the last four months that she was suffocating him.

She quickly wiped her face and cleared her throat. It's fine, she'll just talk to him one on one when they left Steve's.

She smiled as she entered the room. Now she knew why the room got silent. Steve and Robin threw her pity looks but she shrugged it off. She sat next to Eddie, not on his lap like she was before. When he breathed a sigh of relief, her body stung. But she shrugged it off.

When he parked in her driveway to drop her off she spoke up. She wasn't going to let this eat her alive for his benefit.

"why didn't you tell me I was too much for you?" She asked, turning her head to look at him.

He clenched his eyes and sighed.

"I didn't mean for you to hear that" he admitted.

"I know but I would have understood. I'm a big girl, I think I can handle giving you some space when you need it" she wasn't angry and she wasn't hurt anymore.

"I know, it was a dick move" he confessed

"let's work on it together. I'll try to hold back and the days I forget, just tell me when it's too much okay?"

He felt even worse. She smiled sweetly at him as he nodded. She pecked his cheek and skipped into her house.

She was sweet, a ball of sunshine and he felt like the damn rain cloud.

It was weird at first for her. She wasn't sure what things made Eddie feel suffocated so she slowly learned.

When she walked in the halls next to Eddie and Robin, she went to lace her fingers with his. Slightly touching his fingertips. Feeling a small kick in the gut when his hand went into his pocket. Still ranting about a story on his mind. Robin watched as her cheeks flushed embarrassed and took her hand away. Robin didn't understand why Eddie hated the affection. It was his fucking girlfriend for god sakes.

But Robin was a good friend. Easily slipping her hand into Y/N's free one. Y/N smiled at the feeling, giving Robin a grateful look. Y/N giggled as Robin swung their connected hands forward and backwards. Robin smiled hearing her laugh.

Eddie noticed the girls next to him were no longer listening to his story. Watching his girlfriend giggle and smile brightly as Robin swung their arms around. He ignored the upset feeling in his stomach and continued to walk beside them. Easily becoming the third wheel.

Movie night at Steve's was the next thing she had to learn.

She crawled right next to Eddie, as she always did. Throwing a blanket over them as she squeezed under his arm. Her arm wrapping around him and head resting on his shoulder. Feeling his body tense, she quickly apologized

"sorry eds" she said quietly, giving him a defeated look as she sat up straighter, pulling her body away from his. She knew she told him she'd work on it for him, but she didn't expect it to hurt so much.

He gave her a small smile and threw his arm over the couch. Sitting comfortably without a care in the world.

Steve's heart hurt watching as the girl cuddled into herself. Picking at her nails as she tried to keep her hands away from trailing to her boyfriend.

"Y/N, come here" Steve said, opening his arms with a smile on the other side of the couch. He knew she would not be able to rest without cuddling during a movie. And he wasn't going to let his friend be upset because her boyfriend was an asshole.

"okay!" She said excitedly. Yanking the blanket off of Eddie and scooting to the other side where Steve sat. Settling herself in his arms as he sat the blanket on them. Throwing his free arm on her shoulder as he pressed play to the movie.

Eddie glared at Steve's arms wrapped around his girlfriend. The spot next to him is now empty. Just because he didn't want to cuddle doesn't mean Steve should just be touching her all over. Jealousy settled in his veins. He couldn't remember one thing about the movie. Watching his girlfriend fall asleep on Steve's shoulder as she snuggled into him more and more.

But when they were alone, he got her to himself. She realized Eddie only liked to be touched in the privacy of just them. Which was fine.

She kissed his face repeatedly as he laughed under her. Hands tickling her sides to get her off of him.

He smirked in victory when he landed on top of her. Kissing her slowly as she reached up to tangle her hands in his hair.

He didn't want to admit it, but he missed feeling her. They haven't spent a night alone in weeks. He hadn't kissed her this deeply in days. Hasn't felt her hands in his hair, her warmth transferring on to him.

She pulled away with a giggle. Kissing his nose as she moved from under him.

He watched as she put on her jacket.

Confused, he spoke out, "wait. Where are you going?" He sat up on his bed, hand reaching to grab hers

"it's almost 7 baby" she said it like he was supposed to understand what that meant

"and? You never leave that early"

"I know but I've been with you all day long. Now it's time for you to have your alone time, remember?" She said softly. Shaking her head and laughing quietly at her boyfriend's confused face.

She kissed his lips quick again as she walked out of bedroom

"see you in the morning!"

And the door slammed shut.

Eddie quickly realized he didn't want alone time tonight. He's been alone for fucking weeks it felt like.

It was date night and Eddie was more excited than ever. He felt like his body was growing restless being away from her touch this long.

He sat next to her in the booth, one arm thrown over her shoulder and holding her hand as she reached up.

He kissed the side of her head as they waited for their food to arrive.

She was ranting about her day. Her free hand tracing shapes into his hand that rested on the table.

He hummed softly as he listened. His body felt like it was melting into hers. Her back against his chest. Her head is just below his chin. He forgot how nice it was to just hold her.

"Eddie! Y/N!" Robin announced as she dragged Steve over to the booth

"can we sit?"

Eddie went to say no but his sweet girlfriend already said yes.

He felt his body slump in the booth when she moved her body away. Unlacing their hands, scooting over to her side of the booth. No longer sharing one spot. She held her own hands as she greeted their friends.

Eddie hated how cold his body felt. But he asked for this. This was what he wanted. But now he was slowly learning he missed her clinginess. And he hates more than anything that he made her change who she was.

He watched her as she talked to their friends. Eddie kept moving his hand closer to her seat. Hoping that maybe she's been too caught him in talking and just hold it. Subconsciously touching him. But she did. She noticed his hand getting closer but figured she was the one moving. Quickly pulling herself further away. Sending him a small smile.

Eddie needed to fix this and do it fast

Y/N and him were walking side by side towards their class. Ever since Eddie put his hand in his pocket that day, she kept hers tight on her books. But today she had none to carry. Eddie moved himself closer, ranting about hellfire. Bumping his shoulder into hers with a smile. She smiled back and was caught off guard when she felt his warm hand slip into hers. She felt him squeeze her hand a few times but kept his rant going. She smiled to herself and squeezed back.

At the next movie night, she was heading to sit next to Steve when Eddie grabbed her by her waist. She squealed when he placed her on his lap, throwing a blanket over them. Tucking her head under his chin and wrapping his arms around her, tight.

She felt him kiss her head and told Steve to play the movie.

She smiled to herself and snuggled further into his arms.

Eddie smiled as she fell asleep, this time on him.

When she came over to his house after school, he made sure she didn't feel the need to leave.

Moaning into her mouth as she sat on his lap. His tongue tasted her mouth as he held on to her hips.

She pulled away breathless, the excuse to leave on her tongue.

"don't go" he said first. Kissing down her neck.

"you don't want alone time?" She asked, pulling back to look at him fully

"I'm tired of alone time. I was wrong. I love you and I love when you cling to me. I love when you hold my hand, cuddle with me during movies, and when you stay all night long. I'm sorry for making you change. I should have changed. I miss you and I hate missing you when you are right here" he said quietly, still holding on her hips to make sure she didn't move. "alone time just reminds me how fucking good I had it before I fucked it up"

"Eddie, you didn't fuck up. It's okay to not like certain things. We are just opposite and that's fine" she smiled

"no baby no. The thing is the second you took it all away, I wanted it more than ever. I'm sorry and I'll keep saying it. You are perfect just the way you are. Please just stay a little longer"

She smiled down at him as he nudged his head into her chest. Inhaling her scent as he hugged her tighter

"okay Eddie, I'll stay"

Being in a new relationship was all about learning. Learning about the person you love but also learning about yourself. And Eddie learned he loved being touched, even in front of everyone.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975@ag

o-godance@magnificantmermaid

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff

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maxsimagination · 4 months

Text

𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲- 𝗮.𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝘀

warnings: smut. based in 2021.

18+ under the cut

-----

ballon d'or.

the highest honour in the world of football.

the awards ceremony was being held tonight, and the highest names in the leagues were going to be there - male and female. i was over the moon that i had been nominated, i would have been happy with just an invitation to view the celebration.

nominated from the barcelona women's team there was me, alexia, jenni, irene and sandra. mapi was also attending but she hadn't been nominated, only invited.

i had a gut feeling that i hadn't come first, normally the winners were made aware at least 10 hours before the actual ceremony. since i hadn't heard anything and we were en route to the venue, it was my natural assumption.

the girls were all chatting in the limousine that the barcelona staff had hired out. i was sat next to mapi and irene. the latter was talking my ear off about how cool the night is going to be, even if none of us won.

i was by far one the youngest players to be nominated this year, only 20 years old, but turning 21 in the next couple of months.

we pulled up to the event just then, and all six of us exited the car, following the men in suits that guided us. one by one, we all walked onto the red carpet, had a couple of pictures taken, along with a group one of everyone form barcelona femeni. finally the photos were over with and we could head inside to sit down.

the crowd that was already sitting in the massive ceremony hall was insane. most of the left side was already filled up and the right side had a couple of people lingering around it. we took our seats and i let out a sigh of relief. it wasn't that i didn't like these things, i just hated the heels i was wearing.

"you okay, chica?"

i heard a voice i knew to be alexia's from my left and i turned to her with a tired smile.

"sí, just tired. and my feet hurt."

she laughed at that, patting my clothed thigh.

"i can give you a massage when we get home, cariño."

she squeezed my thigh as she whispered in my ear, her voice turning gravelly. it was insanely hot.

"ale..."

my voice held a warning; we were in public and on live tv, she shouldn't do this here.

"y/n... you know i love that dress on you."

i was wearing a plain black dress but it was halter neck with a low back and two slits, one on each leg. i blushed hard at her words, feeling the shivers travel through my body.

finally the ceremony got underway, all the long-winded speeches and guest speakers.

it felt like a million years had passed before the actual awards were being held up. the men's awards came first, of course, then the women's. all the nominees were told to stand and wait backstage so they could all walk out on stage when they were called.

that meant all of our group but mapi had to get up. i gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before getting up and walking off.

alexia was behind me the entire time, and when we were safely out of eyesight, i felt her hand on the small of my back, dangerously close to slipping under the fabric. and she did, her fingers dipped under the waistband to latch onto the minuscule thong i had worn underneath the dress.

"oh, bebita... so naughty."

she leant down and whispered in my ear. i tensed up before one of the backstage directors called out for all of us women to get into the directed positions. that meant alexia and i had to split up.

when our names were called out we walk out. the nerves were still buzzing around inside me, and it got worse when i didn't hear my name called for the first few people.

i had almost automatically assumed i'd be near the bottom, being so young and what some would called 'inexperienced'. so you can imagine my surprise when i was called as 4th overall. my jaw dropped to the floor for a split second before i remembered to walk out.

then when all the other players were called as well, the hosts called a guest speaker to announce the winner.

"and the winner of the ballon d'or feminin 2021 is... alexia putellas!" cheers erupted throughout the hall and i had the largest smile on my face as alexia walked out to collect the award. she thanked the speaker before turning to the crowd and holding up the golden ball for everyone to see.

alexia putellas, my teammate, my captain, my girlfriend, had won the ballon d'or.

——

it was almost half past ten when we arrived home after the ceremony. choosing to forgo the barcelona 'after party', alexia drove us straight to her apartment. the car ride was silent but in a comfortable way. i knew she wouldn't let me off the hook for the thong i'd worn tonight, so i was waiting until she said something.

when we got in the door, she walked straight to the bedroom, clearly expecting me to follow her. i quickly took my heels off and followed her. the second i stepped in the door, she was on me. her lips on mine, and her hands travelling to my ass.

"you have no clue what you do to me."

she breathed out heavily when we broke apart. i was just as breathless, my cheeks flushed red.

"ale, please."

she smirked before unzipping her dress, and telling me to take mine off too. i unclipped mine and let it fall to the floor. the moment i turned around i was in for a surprise.

alexia had somehow taken both her dress and underwear off in record time, and was standing facing me while securing our favourite strap. my eyes widened and i could myself getting more excited. alexia moved to the bed and laid down.

"let's warm you up, yea? you're gonna sit on my face."

i crawled up to her where her head was and swung my leg over. i sunk down on her and her mouth immediately latched onto my clit. i moaned at the contact, falling forward and having to steady myself with a hand on the headboard.

her mouth was working wonders, licking, sucking, biting, and bringing me closer and closer to my first orgasm of the night.

"ale, ale i'm close."

she didn't falter in her ministrations, just kept working her tongue on my clit. and just like that i fell over the edge, spasming and letting go all over alexia's face.

she licked one last stripe from my pulsing hole to my swollen clit before lifting me off her face and switching us.

"gonna need you on your knees, bebita."

i had an idea of where this was going and i was scrambling to get into position. alexia was stood behind me, her hand resting on my waist while i waited patiently. suddenly i felt the tip of her strap slide through my folds, before pushing into me. she took it slowly, letting me adjust to the size and setting a steady pace.

it was a delicious feeling, the way her cock slid in and out, filling me up before pulling out, only to push back in again. i let out a moan, and pushed my ass back to meet alexia's thrusts.

"needy girl, are you?"

"need it faster, please capitana."

the rank slipped out of my mouth without a thought. i could feel alexia's hand tighten her grip on my waist before her thrusts quickened.

i arched my back so my chest and face were resting on the bed and my ass was pushed up, on full display. still pushing back to meet alexia's thrusts again. my hand trailed down to my clit, desperate for some sort of friction. i was so close, i could feel it.

i started rubbing on the bundle of nerves harder, faster. my hole was clenching around alexia's cock faster now, i was right on the edge.

"ale, capitana, please. can i cum?"

"yes bebita, cum for me. cum all over my cock."

that was all the time i needed as i let go for the second time that night, dripping all over alexia's strap. alexia slowed down her thrusts and fucked me through my orgasm, then slowly pulling out and discarding the strap somewhere so she could clean up later.

"are you okay, cariño?"

i nodded, eyes closed, just soaking in the fucked-out bliss i was in.

"words, y/n."

alexia chuckled.

"that was the best sex ever."

i breathed out with a smile, opening my eyes and looking up into alexia's green orbs.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso smut #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine

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boyfhee · 8 months

Text

JAKE BF HEADCANONS

g fluff w kissing if that counts, very slightly suggestive fem reader wc 1.2k note calling my jaketuals requested

rewind to when you guys are just friends, he still has your standards raised to the heaven

your friends ask why you don't have a crush and you're like, i have sim jaeyun, and it has it's own pros and cons because half of the time, people assume you two are dating

the other half, it's you wishing you two were dating

basically, he's prefect!!!! always texts you good morning and good night, reminds you to drink water and take care of yourself. if you're sick or unwell, he's at your door with your favourite snacks before you even know it

AND IT ONLY GETS WORSE WHEN YOU TWO START DATING!!!!! the clingiest boyfriend ever, and he's so sweet, always greets you with kisses and hugs

he PANICS when you get sick like nurse more : on

you have to force him to stop kissing you because you don't want him to get sick as well and he gets so pouty ?? he's sulking at you from a distance

still ends up kissing you and says you two are meant to be when you both get sick together with the most lovesick smile ( insert a sneeze )

BACK HUGS, he always sneaks up and wraps his arms around you from behind, planting kisses on your cheeks, all the way down to your neck

melts when you giggle as he does that :‹ your voice is music to his ears and you laughter is soty ( his words, not mine ) does silly things to make you laugh especially when you're feeling down because if you're sad then he's sad :(

you guys will have to cuddle at least twice a day it's an unwritten rule. he says every second not spent with you poses harm to his health

but in reality, he just likes having you close to him, nuzzling his face in your neck and shoulders, brushing his lips against your skin while his hands are caressing your waist

whispers compliments to you when you both cuddle :›

“you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen,” “i'm so lucky to have to, angel” “god, you're so perfect, i want to kiss you all over”

he's so crazy about you. . .like even jay knows how you like your drinks and your go to order at your favourite cafe :/ basically jake talks about you 24/7 to his members like a madman

LITERALLY SULKS WHEN HE MISSES YOU!!!! like catch him lying lazily on the couch with a frown, looking at his phone screen because he didn't get to talk to your before the stage

but when you face time him, he literally goes :D like the brightest smile ever on his face ㅠㅠ you're his good luck charm!!!!

when you visit their practice, he sneaks out with you to hangout but everyone knows you two are probably making out in a corner or something

hands on your thighs whenever you're sitting next to him, especially when he's driving

you end up on his lap and god, he loves to kiss your neck when you're on his lap

talking about kisses and making out. . .he gets so flustered when his lips get stained by your lipstick

LIKE CATCH HIM BLUSHING??? but also he teases you and tries to play it cool

“aw, look at you jake, you’re blushing,” “so what, huh? you were even redder when i was kissing you,” “pretty sure i can get those reactions out of you again, angel,”

sharing earphones with jake is a love language and you both just smile at each other with your hands intertwined together listening to your shared playlist

one would think he likes searching up new songs out of his profession but actually, it's because he wants to find songs that you would like, would try out new genres especially the one that fit your taste and gets so smiley when you tell him that you liked one of the songs he recommended

like you actually like the song he recommended??? you're adding it to your fav songs playlist??? he's getting on his knees and proposing

sometimes, he even sends you the samples of the group's upcoming songs knowing he's legally not allowed to do so

KISS SELFIES omfg jake has crazy mirror selfies but the kiss selfies especially the mirror ones are the craziest

hates to be away from you so when he's on trip, catching him text you all day

“the sky reminds me of you today,” [ attachment : one image of the sky with silly doodles ] “i miss you, my love,” “next time, you’re coming on the tour with us,”

gets kinda insane. . .like the withdrawal symptoms are getting to him

once again, his members are tired of him talking about you

like sunoo is asking which cap he should get and jake is looking at him with the :o face, holding to bucket hats asking which one would look better on you

their opinion doesn't matter because gets both of them, he just likes buying gifts for you, no matter how big or small they are

you may or may not know this but jake takes so many candid pictures of you, and most of them are when you're snuggling into him while sleeping, or busy cooking something or when you're watching your favourite tv so ever so attentively

has a quarter life crisis every three to five business while picking which pic of yours should go as his wallpaper next because you look gorgeous in all of them

calls you layla's mom and of course he's layla's dad so you both are married and parents, or so he says

jake has his whole life planned with you like that man is more delusional than you think, but it's also because he sees you at every single point in his future, he's more than sure about the two of you

ALSO he wakes you up in the cutest way

like forehead and cheek kisses while he pulls you closer, whispering the sweetest good morning to you ( you are NOT waking up lmfao )

knows cuddling you while trying to wake up is going to make you sleep more but he can't help it, you look too cute for him to not cuddle with you early in the morning

helps you make breakfast, it's like a tradition to cook together, and then he feeds you as an excuse for you to taste his dishes

when he's feeling a little flirty he will cage you between his arms, against the counter and will lean in really close— but he doesn't kiss you. you can feel his warm breath on your lips and you can feel his lips brush ever so softly against yours but he does not kiss you

and when he does, the breakfast is long forgotten— because you're sitting on the counter with him standing between your legs and his hands on your waist, he's kissing you like you're going to disappear the next minute, savouring every single feeling

basically, kisses with jake start as fluttering giggles and soft traces of his lips against yours but they leave you breathless in just a few minutes

sends you random videos and memes, also when you two are watching the same dramas, he texts you his live reactions

“omfg i need them to get together” “they’re so cute . me and who,” “THYE KISSED OHMYGODSDSKJFH IM CROYGIN OTP FR” “now i want to kiss you too im coming over,”

IM TELLING YOU aquarium dates are his favourites

gets so giddy looking at the fishes, but he's mostly staring at you and enjoying your reactions

buys promise rings on your first anniversary and loves staring at your ring when you two are holding hands

also kisses your hands especially above your ring, he just can't believe he gets to call you his

listens to you so attentively and tucks your hair behind your ear because it's distracting, and goes '???' when you get flustered and pause all of a sudden

you have his all his pcs and enhypen's signed albums because gf privileges with jake are real

one time, you were lucky enough to get a fan call with him and boy spend the whole time professing his love to you

overall an outstanding bf, highly recommended

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storiesforthemoonchild · 5 months

Text

My Wife | Alexia Putellas x Reader

another Alexia offering cause someone asked for wife fluff and I think Alexia is becoming my fave to write for 😅

Your eyes travel from one thing to the next in the banquet hall lined with tables, white tablecloths and pristine cutlery with name plates resting on top. Men in perfectly tailored suits with their wives standing idly beside them engage in conversations. The podium in the middle of a huge stage looks daunting to you as you imagine what you would say if you had to make a speech.

A gentle squeeze to your hand brings you back to reality. Alexia is smiling at you and suddenly there’s nothing else that exists in the room. Your eyes drop down to where your hands are clasped together, her thumb running across the back of yours removes any anxiety that lingers in you. She knows you hate these events, but you would never make her go alone.

You hate the fake smiles from people who just see her as a price tag to up their sales. You hate the form fitting outfit you wear, much preferring to be wrapped in one of her old Barcelona jerseys. You hate small talk, and even more the blatant dismissal of you from Alexia’s side. It didn’t matter though you would do it a million times over for her.

“I found our table, let’s go sit,” Alexia is composed as always. Tugging on your hand she leads you on the journey to the table that you’re sure will get interrupted.

“Alexia!” You don’t even make it a few steps into the room before she’s called. An American man who looks and sounds like one of those businessmen you see in the TV shows making his way over. You recognize him from another event. “Alexia Putellas as I live and breathe,” he says her name wrong and it makes you roll your eyes.

You feel the gentle squeeze on your hand once again, “Hola, have you been well? This is m-,” Alexia’s cute English accent is cut off by the man.

“I had a thought the other night and you immediately came to mind,” he starts.

Alexia pulls you into her side protectively. “This is my wife, (y/n).” She hated when people didn’t acknowledge you more than you did. It was always full of pride that she showed you off. She would say it like being your wife was the greatest thing in the world and your heart skipped a beat each time she did it.

“Oh, pleasure,” the man greets you with the perfect corporate smile.

You give a smile of your own. Alexia kisses your cheek, “we’re going to head to our seats. We can discuss your thoughts later.” She doesn’t wait for a response, pulling you back along as she whispers a few curses in Catalan. She looks behind at you and the frustration wipes from her face. A smile instead tugging at her lips as you send her a wink.

It happens three more times before you make it to your table. Alexia pulls out your seat, offering you a hand as you sit. Always a gentlewoman, you adored it. “You look beautiful, amor,” she tells you as she slips into her seat next to you.

“Not as beautiful as you, amor,” you give right back as a blush comes up to tint both of your cheeks. It didn't matter you had been married for a year now and together for four, Alexia’s words would always make you bashful.

A moment later you see the way her face twists up in a mix of frustration and anger, “I’m sorry about them and sorry you have to be here.”

She always felt guilty. You cup her cheek, a smile gracing your face to comfort her, “how many times do I have to tell you to stop apologizing for other people’s actions? I can handle it as long as you are by my side.”

“I’m still sorry you have to come.”

“Where else would I want to be? My wife is the player of the year,” you tease rubbing your nose up against hers playfully.

Alexia laughs, a soft kiss is placed on your lips. You loved how the two of you could make it feel like it was only you in a room. Calmness washes over both of you after the shared moment, “Te amo mucho,” she whispers, pulling away.

You hum, overly satisfied with how the moment changed your outlook on the night. Alexia never left your side. A hand always either placed in your lap or around your waist if she was showing you off. She would brag about the little wins you had at your job that was nowhere near as exciting as hers. The people would laugh along with her or send you congratulations, and you knew it was fake. Hers wasn’t though, she loved to see you win even in the smallest of ways.

If it was up to her you would be the one walking across the stage tonight to accept an award. Probably for something cheesy she made up like Wife of the Year, or Best Post-game Cuddler. Those would mean more to her than the awards she got for football. She didn’t do it for the awards, the woman simply just loved playing the game.

The night crawls on and you're served a bland meal that makes Alexia promise to take you for a burger and milkshake after. The conversations never get more enjoyable, but the endless wine does. You start to get giggly and Alexia knows you’re tipsy. She steals glances at you mid-conversations, a grin sprouting up involuntarily every time her eyes meet yours.

It’s close to the time for her award and you feel nervous as if it was you going up there. Leg bouncing impatiently until Alexia firmly grips your thigh, effectively halting your movements. “What is wrong amor?”

“I am nervous for you to go up there,” you admit shyly.

Alexia’s head tilts innocently, “do you want to come with me?”

“God no,” you respond immediately.

She gives you that annoyingly charming smirk that you hate you love so much. “I will be quick hermosa and I’ll be looking at you the whole time.”

It wasn’t a lie. She affectionately kisses your cheek and rubs her thumb across the same spot after they call her name. She reaches the podium and her eyes meet yours and don’t pull away for a moment. Not when she’s addressing all the adversity that she went through and definitely not when she dedicates the award to you. ‘I wouldn’t be the woman or footballer I am without my wife beside me’. It was the first time she got on a stage and thanked you as her wife. It felt different than girlfriend and again maybe it was just the way she says it with so much pride in her voice. You mouth out a ‘te amo’ as she finishes.

“Why are you crying?” Alexia asks with a chuckle when she finally reaches you again.

“The speech was beautiful,” you say, wiping away the few drops of tears before they can ruin your makeup.

“You’re just saying that because it was dedicated to you.”

You shrug unashamed, “probably.”

“You ready to go?” She asks, a sneaky kiss being placed just below your ear. The two of you had a habit of sneaking out of events early. You nod and she whispers, “good. I’m ready to be gifted with the real trophy now.”

You scoff as her eyes rake over your body, “such a flirt.”

“Only for you. My wife,” she beams with pride.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine

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eyesxxyou · 4 months

Text

❝ rough hands ❞ (rival bands!au)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. rival bands hobie x FTM!reader, conflicting emotions, a lot of sexual tension, a ton of mentions of hobie's hands, tw:pigs cops, being pinned down, fingering, handjob, a lot of bantering, generally just how I think sex withHobie would be, smut with a LOT of plot. the mary janes and the mutts have had a longstanding hatred for one another for years but you can't seem to resist the antics of hobie brown

wc: 4.3k

Fuck.

“They’re good.” Your drummer nudged as you and the rest of your band watched The Mary Janes perform on stage. They were opening for your performance and fuck if they weren't good at it. So much energy, such an art, you couldn't believe how fucking amazing he was on stage. Hobie Brown, the lead singer and guitarist. He was a force to be reckoned with.

You shrugged. “They're alright. Not better than us.” Your eyes narrow as they finish out their final song and Hobie takes a breath, thanking everyone for coming out. The crowd cheers, screams for him and you’re positive you can make them scream louder.

You and your band, The Mutts, move to the side as Hobie and his Mary Janes walk off stage. You catch his gaze, his smile so confident, cool, and carefree. You hate it, hate him. He doesn't say anything to you but you can see it in his eyes and the way he turns from you like he’s better than you. “You and your Mutts try to beat tha’”, his demeanor says as he walks away with his bandmates and you hate him for it.

It was a tough act to follow up. You know it as soon as you walk out on stage after your introduction. The air is hot where Hobie once stood, you can feel his energy still resonating there. You know he’s watching somewhere and you know you have to show him up for the sake of it. Your lips kiss the microphone Hobie once pressed his lips to and you hate that you can taste him there.

The crowd screamed along with the lyrics, music to your ears. How beautiful. Fucking beat that Hobie Brown.

You see him in the crowd with a drink in his hand, sipping away with a smirk on his face like something's fucking funny. If only you could slap it off his beautiful, smug face. You would as soon as you got off stage.

You and your bad breezed through your set. The crowd was alive in a way you’ve never seen before and it broke your heart to have to leave them. You turned your bass around behind your back and took a bow before thanking everyone for being such an amazing crowd for you. You watched Hobie turn and wade his way past people who slapped him on the back and feebly asked for an autograph to make his way backstage. He was undoubtedly coming just to taunt you.

As you and The Mutts came into the backstage lounge area, you departed with. “I’m going to my dressing room. I’ll see you guys in a minute.” Your drummer hummed with approval while your guitarist sent you off with a wave.

You made your way down the back all towards the dressing rooms. You opened the door only to find that Hobie was already there with his drink in hand and an insult already waiting on the tip of his tongue. “Ya slipped up there at the end. Was it cause o’ me? How unprofessional.”

“Hobie, you wouldn' know professionalism if it kicked you in the balls and told you your mother died at the same time. Get outta my face.” You sighed and reached into the pocket of your jacket for a loose lighter and a joint. You placed the joint between your lips, lit it, and took a drag. “You know whoever the club owner gives more money to tonight, he wants them to come back.”

Hobie scoffed. He sat on the mangy, gross couch as the door swung closed and you made your way over to the vanity to fix up your makeup. “O’ course ya only care ‘bout money, ‘ow contraire.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Only if yer there to kiss my arse while I do i’.”

It was usually like this. Your bands never liked each other but between them it was just glares and rough shoulder checks as the other passed. No one went at each other's throats the way you and Hobie did. You two were vicious, brutal, insults that would make the common man cry. But everyone knew better. There was a sort of camaraderie in your hatred for one another. Only you were allowed to hate him. You’d defend him with your life against someone else and in the same breath tell him his music was shit and he needed to quit.

“Either way, I’m getting that money.” Hobie settles, turning away like that’s the end of the matter. Your tongue swipes at your bottom lip before you nip it. “Says the man who plays the guitar like he can't find the clit.” You murmur and take another drag of your joint.

“Oh really?” Hobie began slowly, placing his cup down on the sticky floor before standing to his full height. He made his way over to you at the vanity, his hands grabbing the back of your chair when what he really want was to grip your shoulders, to touch you. “Would’ja like a demonstration? ‘m very good wit’ ma fingers. You know i’.” He looked at you through the mirror, leaning down so his face is next to yours.

You stare at him, search his eyes for a hint of malice or something, anything, but there's nothing but a true and genuine offer. He’d be more than happy to show exactly where your clit is.

Your lips pull into a scowl. “You’re fucking disgusting.” You say it to hide the fact that all you want is his hands on your body and those fingers to play with you the way he plays that guitar of his.

It’s the truth. You hide your burning desire for him behind your hatred, both equally as real as the other. He’s smug, shitty, sly, and sexy. You want to fuck him as much as you want to punch him, some days one more than the other.

Hobie placed his hand on your shoulders, massaging so gently. He tilted his head, placed his lips beside your ear. “Lemme know if ya ever wanna take me up on tha’ offer, dove.”

You stare at him, not sure if you want to kiss him or kill him, maybe a little bit of both. “Suck my dick, Hobie.”

“Sure, bet I can do tha’ better than ya too.”

“Get your fuckin’ hands off me and get out.”

Hobie finally relented, his hand sliding from your shoulders and back to his sides. “Fine. I’m pissin’ off. Don' forge’ ‘bout tha’ party on Saturday. Would be a damn shame if I don’ get a chance t’show ya up ‘gain.” He grabbed his drink and made his way to the door.

You couldn't stand him.

The party was already long going before you and The Mutts arrived. You were one to sniff out a good bottle of booze and went wandering to find it, your body in a perpetual state of compression by people on all sides. You wade through them with ease, leather jackets, spiked hair and all.

A proper punk party would be nothing without shitty beer and a stolen cop car to destroy.

You make your way to the center, all bats and spikes. Someone was on the hood of the car, bashing in the windshield until it completely fell through. You didn't realize it was Hobie until he hopped down from the hood and turned, grabbing the beer from your hand to take a sip. “Took ya long enough to join the party.” It seem he saw you far before you saw him.

“Can I have my shit back?” You snatched the bottle back from him. “Where the fuck did you guys get a cop car without the pigs getting on your asses?” It’s hard doing anything nowadays without the pigs sticking their ugly noses where they don't belong.

Hobie shrugged. “I ain' get i’. ‘m just here to fuck i’ up. Stop askin’ questions, are you joinin’ in or no’?”

Before either of you could do or say anything more, the car behind you was ablaze. Every window shattered, the very windshield wipers mashed through the back window, and now it was on fire. Someone had thrown a molotav cocktail inside of it and the entire thing caught on fire. Now it was a real punk party.

You figured the car would explode any time now, better to walk away before it blows and sears your eyebrows off. You take a swing from your bottle, grimacing at the bitter taste that's more akin to dog piss than anything else. Shitty bear. Proper punk.

You turn, ready to find your mates and maybe a stray joint floating around you can hog for yourself. Out in the distance you can hear the first ‘whoop’ of a police siren. You roll your eyes and finish out the rest of your beer in one gulp. “Are you fucking kidding me? I just got here.” You throw your bottle into the car fire.

The sirens come in blazing and a voice yells out that it's the cops. “Everybody scram!”

You look first for your bandmates but in a hoard like this, you’ll never find them. People are starting to run, yelling for everyone else to take off as well. They push past you while your eyes search frantically among their faces for your mates.

A hand grabs yours. You turn back to find Hobie there attempting to drag you away from where you stand in the mud. You thought he had already left, ran away with the rest of them. He was pulling you with him. “Wha’ the fuck are ya waitin’ for!?”

“My mates-”

You can see the suits approaching. They’re catching people, using batons to beat them down. They’re coming fast and you both know it. You’re panicking and Hobie’s still trying to get you to move your fucking legs.

He moves in front of you and holds your face between his large hands. “I need ya t'do me a favor and run. Ya can't help ya mates if yer dead or in a jail cell.” He pushed your shoulders, made you stumble back, snapped you out of your fixation.

You began to pick up your feet and run away. Your boots splattered in the mud, it stuck, made your feet heavier. You couldn't run as fast as normal. You’re stumbling, staggering, hands hitting the ground before pushing yourself back up. You know you’re going to get caught, it’s only a matter of time.

“I said get down!” That's all you hear before you’re tackled into the mud by an officer. He pins your arms to the Earth and you can hear the rattle of the handcuffs ready to clamp themselves down around your wrists. You try to fight but he holds just enough leverage over you that every elbow thrown was useless.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You fight because your very life depends on it. He’s smashing your face into the dirt rougher than necessary. “You’ve got nothing on me!” You writhed and kicked and screamed until suddenly the weight on you was gone and there was a thump and a grunt, a splatter in the mud.

Hobie was on top of the officer, fighting him, punching him, beating him into unconsciousness. You scrambled to your feet and watched him throw each punch with a grunt, teeth bared, eyes wild. You know if he keeps going he’ll kill the pig, not that you cared but he’d get into far more trouble than it's worth.

“Hobie, Hobie, come on.” You grabbed his hand before he could swing it down again, grabbed it besides all the blood and bruises. “They’re coming. We need to get outta here.” Your eyes plead for him to leave it alone. You couldn't care less about what happens to him, you tell yourself as much at least, but he saved you. It’s only fair and you don't like being indebted to people.

Hobie looked at you, then the cop on the ground, then back at you again. He stood and took your hand with his so gently. “Ma boat is on the dock up the way, come on.” He glanced back for a moment before the two of you began to run hand in hand. Hobie guides you out of the crowd in an entirely separate direction than everyone else. You run even though your feet ache, even though your heart is racing in your chest, even though you feel as though you can't breathe.

You only stop when you reach the dock where Hobie's boat is anchored. He leads you with bruised and battered hands to the canal boat at the end of the dock, a place where the two of you can call up your respective mates and make sure everyone is okay.

You’re covered in mud, wet, cold, shivering while you board Hobie’s boat. You wrap your arms around yourself and rock from heel to toe while Hobie shuffles about on his boat. He opens a door and looks back at you, “Ya comin’?” Your lips curled into a scowl as you let out a scoff. “I’m fine now, thanks. I can catch a cab back home.”

“Ya look like a wet dog. Come on.”

With a reluctant sigh, you follow him into his boathouse. It’s warm inside, immediately ceasing your shivering. It’s small, cozy, a bit cluttered but it’s not like your flat is any better. You hate to say that you like it but you do, you think it’s great, with his bed in front of a window that overlooks the bay.

You watch Hobie rummage about for clothes and all you can do is stare at his hands, hands that protected you, hands that fought for you, that drew blood for you. He defended you and fuck if it wasn’t hot. “I don’t need your pity.” You cover up the fact that you can feel yourself growing a little weak in the knees. If you hate him a little harder maybe it will make the feeling between your legs go away.

“No’ pity, jus’ bein’ a decent human-fuckin’-bein’,” he corrects you. “Wha’? Ya tink ‘m no’ capable of no good? I saved ya arse and ya sill bein’ a fuckin’ right cunt.” He comes close, he pokes your shoulder so hard that you move back a little, space that he closes once again.

The adrenaline is still running high. Your heart is still racing in your chest, slamming against your ribcage in a desperate attempt to claw its way out. You eat up the space between the two of you and shove him. “I only act like a cunt because you act like a dickhead!” You shove him again and he stumbles back before coming right back to you.

You breathe heavy, the both of you, staring. You keep glancing at his lips. Why do you keep glancing at his lips? Better question is why he keeps glancing at yours.

It was Hobie who leaned in and kissed you first. You could keep your dignity — keep your sanity — in knowing that you were not the one to make the first move. He kissed you hard and you kissed him back, kissed him harder. Your tongue found his lips and eagerly asked for permission for entrance. You needed him, needed his tongue against yours, need those hands that protected you against your skin.

Hobie parted his lips, let your tongue wander into his supple mouth and find his pierced tongue. It was hot, a little sloppy. You lick into his mouth and he licks into yours, your bodies pressing into the others while your slippery hands tug at each other's clothing. You swallow each breathless moan he sighs into your mouth, his hands sliding beneath your shirt. They’re cold, you shudder under his touch and he likes it. He smiled into the kiss. “Sum wrong?”

“Shut up.” You shudder out as his fingers breeze over you top surgery scars and brush your nipples that harden under his touch. His hands roam where they please, across your chest and down the curve of your back that arches with the tender touches of his fingertips. Your tongue lapped at his bottom lip, teeth nipping softly at the lip ring you spend hours staring at. “Just touch me.”

“Only touch ya?” Hobie teased with the idea. “Some heavy pettin’, yeah?”

“I’m still tryna decide if I wanna fuck you or not.”

Hobie kissed you again, tasting of piss poor beer and mint, a strange but delightful combination. “Dove, ya wanna fuck me. Ya wouldn' be here if ya didn't. Jus’ lemme treat ya good.” His hand pulled at the hem of your shirt and pulled it off of you in one swift motion. Those hands of his, they caressed your waists and hips while his lips traced a path down your neck. “Le's get rid of these clothes before ya make tha’ decision.”

You helped Hobie out of his clothes and he helped you out of yours, every piece of clothing leaving you a little hotter than the last. You trembled under his touch as he eased his hand over the band of your boxers. He slid his hand further south and cupped the mound of your pussy. “Ya ready to take me up on tha’ offer now?”

“I’ll punch you in the face.” You can’t stand his smugness but you can't say you don't like the way he pulls down your underwear then pulls down and pushes you back onto his bed. He pulls them off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side with the rest of your clothes. “Lemme give tha’ demonstration now.”

Hobie climbed onto the bed with you, on top of you. His hands protected you, his hands now tenderly caress you. His long fingers soothe down your naval and his lips kiss the curves of your scars. His body is pressed between your legs, his cock tapping your clit in just the right way to make you let out a fluttering moan.

Those hands, those hands that defended you, cupped your pussy again and his lips were on yours once more. He wanted to taste it, taste the surprise on your sweet lips when he dipped his long fingers between your supple lips and felt how wet you were. Your love let out a nice, creamy sound as he ran his fingers up and down from your wanton cunt to your aching clit.

You gasped into his mouth and Hobie took it, held it, tasted it, and loved it all in a single breath. He can't help but smile, to kiss you harder while he eased his middle finger into your lovely little cunt while his thumb rubbed circles into your firm clit. “Found ‘im, the lil shit.”

You reached between your two warm bodies, skin against skin in the best way possible, your hand sliding down his chest, his diaphragm, his naval, down to his length which rested on your belly and oozed precum onto you. You gathered up the growing little pool on your fingers and spread it across his throbbing tip, your finger circling his slit the same way he circled your rosebud.

Hobie let out something of a strangled groan into your mouth, fingers pausing for just a moment before resuming their torturous massage. “Yer sum else, y’know tha’?” He slipped his index finger in swiftly, the soft stretch making you hum sweet melodies of pleasure for him. He thumbed at your clit, swollen and pretty and begging for more, while your finger-stuffed cunt takes his fingers like it was always meant to.

You keep playing with his tip, dragging your feathery fingertips across the underside of the head, another sensitive spot that makes him react with another moan, lighter this time.

“I don't wanna have sex with you, Hobie.” You whisper like anything louder would break this precious moment. “But this isn't sex.” Not in your book.

“Hmm? Wha’cha call i’ then?”

“Heavy, heavy petting.”

Hobie can't stop himself from offering you a friendly chuckle. His fingers gently search for that sweet spot where he can get the most out of you, rubbing at your soft, gummy walls in a way that makes you arch your back and shiver. And when he finds that beautiful little spot, that spot that makes you moan his name in his ear, that makes your torture of his cock pause, he abuses it. Every thrust of his fingers, every curl, every rub targets that little soft ridge where your pleasure centers itself.

Your eyes flutter a bit. “Fuck– Hobie~ right– right there.” You tilt your hips in a way that gives him better access and it’s much appreciated. What’s even more appreciated it the way you’re softly jerking off his cockhead. The underside gently rubbing against the soft palm of your hand while your calloused fingers brush against the topside.

His hips rut. He lets out a pant, fingers still pounding away at your eager cunt. You’re both moaning into one another, soft, panting, desperate moans that feed into one another.

Hobie helped you up with a surprising amount of strength. Before you know it, your’re on top of him, his two digits still fucking your eager hole. It’s your turn to rut your hips, your legs straddling his, your hand stroking his tip so softly he might just cum right then and there.

Hobie let his free hand tenderly stroke over your soft throat, his knuckles still bruised and scabbing over. “Is this alrigh’?” The hand that nearly killed for you is so wonderfully soft for you. They rip at the guitar, they fight, they beat a man unconscious, but they’d never hurt you. You take his hand and settle it on your throat, nodding softly. You trust him, you trust him more than you like him. Punk camaraderie and all that jazz.

Hobie wraps his fingers around your neck, presses his palm against your throat gently, and kisses you again. “Ride ma fingers, yeah?” You nod again, too fucked up to come up with a witty response. You rock your hips, lifting and falling. Your hand holds his on your throat and you moan into his mouth.

Your thumb rubbed his slit and Hobie groaned. “Fuck– yeah~ jus’ like tha’. Ma good boy.” You don't even mind that he called you his because if this is what it felt like to belong to him then maybe you didn't mind it, you didn't mind it at all.

His thumb rubbed the side of your throat, his finger curled each time you fell on them, your creamy juices running down his knuckles and the defined tendons of his hands. “Fuck, messy lil ting.” His thumb rubbed your clit with vigor. You couldn't stand it. You were losing your mind.

“Please, please, please,” you babbled. “‘m gonna cum.” Your hand raced up and down the length of his cock. “You’re gonna cum with me, yeah?” You play with his tip, stroke just the head, and his cock twitches. He’s close too, you can tell.

Hobie chuckled breathlessly. “Cumming together…’ow romantic.” The baritone of his voice makes the feeling within you build. His voice, his hands, his beauty. You kissed him, suckled on his tongue before licking it. It was filthy, disgusting really and you both loved it more than either of you cared to admit.

Your body rolled with the beginnings of your climax, your pussy quivering around his lengthy digits. “Cum for me, cum for me, please.” You wanted it, needed it. Skin against skin, flesh for flesh, two pretty bodies finding the height of pleasure at the same time, together. Punk camaraderie.

Cumming at the same time was quite the intimate experience, something you’d never thought you’d share with the likes of Hobie Brown. But here he was, cumming ribbons against your chest and belly while the rest oozes down your knuckles. You're dripping down his knuckles too, only fair, just as good.

You’re seeing double, he’s seeing stars, you’re both delirious and in need of the other. Sloppy kisses and breezing sighs of relief. Wet fingers slip out of you and hold your waist while he tongues at your mouth.

Your mind felt hazy, you leaned into Hobie and let him embrace you when any other day you would have died before you let him touch you so softly. You’ve shoved each other, pinched, poked, even bit, but never embraced.

“Thank you for protecting me.” You whisper, sheepishly so. You roll off of him and onto his bed. He leaned over and laid down with you, an arm wrapped around you, his hips between your legs. “Couldn' have ya beaten or arrested now. Wha’ would tha’ make me?”

“A proper asshole.”

“A proper asshole.” He echoed. “Lemme get something to clean ya up wit’ then ya can call ya mates.” He turned your head and kissed you once again, tenderly, quickly before getting up and grabbing his underwear or was that yours? He put them on and opened a sliding door to a small bathroom.

Hobie came back, wiping his hand with a wet cloth. He used it to wipe his cum from your chest. He let you clean between your own legs, not wanting to overstep his already overstayed welcome.

“Hobie–” You began while he settled back into bed. You stood up to get whatever underwear was left and put it on. “If we’re doing…this. Let’s keep it between us. You know our mates will lose it.”

He shrugged. “Fine by me. Like ma relationships private anyway.”

“Not a relationship, dickhead.”

“Yeah yeah, whateva.” He sat up and grabbed your hand, pulling you back onto his bed with him. You land right in his hold, your flesh against his, your lips against his as well. You could do this forever.

“Stay the nigh’.” Hobie’s hand brushed your cheek. His gaze was persuasive and you were in no position to decline. You sighed, rolled away from him only to be rolled back.

“I still hate you.”

“‘m sure ya do, love. Sure ya do.”

#hobie smut #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie x black!reader #hobie x ftm!reader #hobie x trans!reader #hobie brown my love #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x ftm!reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 18

part 1 | part 17 | ao3

“I’m sorry I’m sorry don’t hate me I’m sorry, did it work? Don’t hate me. Did it work?”

“Dustin,” Steve barks. Dustin looks up, eyes bright; he's hugging Steve so hard it’s like he’s trying to fuse his face to Steve’s rib cage through his shirt. Steve scruffs him on the top of the head, rubbing his knuckles over his dumb baseball cap in a way he hopes is reassuring, and wheezes, “Can’t breathe, bud.”

The kid takes a hesitant step back, fists still balled in the fabric of Steve’s shirt like he might run away. Mike’s cowering behind him, hunched in on himself and nervously eyeing up the nail bat.

“So you’re... not mad?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, I’m fucking pissed,” Steve smiles sarcastically. “Hope you used that Butterscotch wisely, dude, because it’s the only one you’re getting for the rest of the year. Also, you can kiss your full candy bar trick-or-treating plans goodbye.”

“What? No!” Mike starts to whine, but immediately shuts his mouth when Steve glares at him. Then Eddie swoops in behind them, clapping a hand on both kids’ shoulders and nearly startling Mike out of his skin.

“And, uh, for obvious reasons,” he says in an acidic sing-song, “you’re both banned from Hellfire for the next month.”

“WHAT?”

Oh, this guy’s good.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” Mike pleads. “We’re just about to get to the manor’s secret passage!”

“Yes, and what a shame that your paladin triggered a hidden trap and got stuck in a faulty portal for the next four sessions.”

“Oh, my god! This is— this is—!”

“Payback?” Eddie sneers.

Dustin’s eyes are darting rapid fire between the two of them, and he elbows Mike in the ribs and hisses, “Dude, shut up before he kills us both for good!”

“Oh, my god,” Mike says again, face twisting through all five stages of grief.

“Oh, also,” Steve adds for his own amusement as he heads toward the stairs, “you two can clean all this camping shit up.”

—

“You play a good game of Punish the Pipsqueaks,” Steve grins, walking side by side with Eddie. "That D&D ban? Ouch. Keep that up and the moms will start recruiting you for babysitting duty."

“Oh, boy!” Eddie smirks. “My dream finally realized.”

They get back to their cars, and Steve shivers a little, the cold finally getting to him now that he doesn’t have the fight or flight to keep him warm. He unlocks the bimmer and slides into the front seat; cranks up the heat, his hands impatiently hovering in front of the vents.

Eddie catches the car door. “You’re really not going to punish them more?" he asks, leaning in, head cocked to the side. "I mean, no trick-or-treating sucks and all, but. Seems a little lenient, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does,” Steve agrees with a short laugh, “but see, the thing is, those two dumbasses are assuming that revenge is a dish best served cold, when actually?" He points at the house. "It’s a dish best served by Claudia Henderson.”

Eddie’s brows lift in question.

“I’m gonna call her tomorrow morning and say I caught them smoking at the bus stop.”

“Jesus!" Eddie laughs. "That’s diabolical.”

“And then I’m gonna suggest they do community service at the retirement home on Halloween instead of trick-or-treating, because Dustin’s weirdly afraid of old people.”

Eddie's laugh turns to a cackle, all his teeth on display, and the car bounces on its wheels as he leans his weight against the door. “Oh, man," he exhales, wiping the corners of his eyes. "Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Pretty sure we’ve only ever been on each other’s bad sides.” Steve’s joking, but Eddie’s smile slips a little, and Steve wants to take it back. Pluck the words from the fog of chilled breath hanging between them; tell him that they're not anymore, that they don't have to be again.

But then Eddie catches the bass line coming from Steve’s speakers and the grin comes back full force.

“Hold the fuck on," he beams, nodding his head to the beat and hum-mumbling the melody as the words come back to him.

Following the footsteps of a red dawn dance, we are entranced.

“Spellbound,” he sings, shaking his head in delighted disbelief. “I’m sorry, does Steve Harrington have a Siouxsie tape in his car?”

Steve’s face goes red. Fucking Robin. “If you’re about to talk shit about the music, I— I mean, I’m just the chauffeur, man, I don’t—”

“Relax. It’s not that, I just…” He raps his knuckles against the roof. Gives Steve a once over; smiles softly at whatever he sees.

“What?” Steve asks. Kinda likes how he has to crane his neck to look up at him.

“Nothing," Eddie murmurs, low and deep. "You’re just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Steve shivers again.

It seems to snap Eddie out of... whatever that was. “My bad, man,” he says, his voice back to normal volume. He apologizes for letting in the cold air and slips Steve’s jacket off, handing it back to him and shutting the door with a soft click, then he throws out a parting salute and skips off to his van.

Steve just sits there for a moment, feeling syrupy and dumb. Like there's whiskey in his chest, a full flask of it sloshing around behind his ribs.

His jacket smells like Eddie. Siouxsie croons in his good ear.

Spellbound, spellbound, oh-oh-oh.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters as he cuts the music off. He drives home in silence, the song still ringing in his ears.

—

part 19

first half of tag list below the cut comment if you want me to add you to the next one

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #st fic #my writing #my fic #robin WILL make a sonic witch girly out of steve

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vex91 · 4 months

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Yu Jimin - Fan's favorite

Pairing: Yu Jimin x Female Reader

Fandom: Aespa

Summary: Despite all her worries Jimin was shocked to see how much her fans supported her relationship.

A/N: This is for my incredible and amazing bestie 🌙 anon. HAPPY BIRTHDAY 💕💕

3rd's POV

Jimin smiled at her phone when she saw the picture you send her. It was a picture of you and your best friend in the first row of the concert she was about to have. In the background she noticed some fans with her banners also posing and it made her smile even more. She was always so happy whenever she saw how well you got along with her fans.

She remembers how worried she was when the articles about one of your dates first got released forcing SM to confirm her relationship. She was scared that people would start hating you and harassing you but to her surprise her fans took it really well. Of course there was some negative comments but it got covered with all the positive responses from her fans and it made her so happy, especially when she noticed how much they liked you. Always wanting you to make lives with her and comment nice things on your Instagram.

That night Jimin asked you to come to their concert in Seoul before they took off to their next tour and since you had a day off you gladly came with your best friend. While waiting for the show to start you had multiple conversations with her fans, taking some pictures and sharing your thoughts about the new album. It was all incredibly enjoyable and it made the time pass faster and soon the girls came on stage.

The whole time Jimin was on stage her eyes were always going back to you, she winked at you, send you hearts and just had so much cute interactions with you that made her fans squeal. After they sang their new song "Drama" the girls took a bit of time to walk around the stage and talk with their fans. Jimin immediately went over to you when she had a chance and despite her only planning to grab your hand and talk with you for a bit, she quickly noticed how her fans wanted her to take you to the stage. She quickly catch on to what they had in mind and her face became red. Aeri used that situation to tease the leader a little "Jimin you should get Y/N up to the stage" Jimin glared at her but complied and helped you get on the stage.

You immediately hugged her making the crowd to go wild "They're so cute" Yizhuo smiled making the majority of the fans to scream in agreement and soon they started chanting for you to kiss. You blushed at it and the other girls only chanted with the crowd. You looked at Jimin who also looked at you and seeing as there was no way out, she chuckled and connected your lips in a sweet kiss. Your lips moved in sync as the crowd recorded the sweet moments as they cheered.

You pulled away from each other and you tried to hide behind her, feeling shy due to the moment you shared with her on the stage but to no success as soon the other girls jumped on you, hugging you. Jimin only watched with a smile feeling content with how much her fans loved you and accepted you.

#vex writes #aespa x reader #aespa reactions #yu jimin x reader #karina x reader #yu jimin #karina

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eddiesghxst · 7 months

Text

PRICE OF FAME (PART 5/12)

HEHEHE THIS ONES PACKED W LOTS OF... STUFF, ENJOYYYY!!!

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie doesn't think he hates you anymore and you can't figure out eddie's game

contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, masturbation (f), maybe a little kith (hehe), flirting, and eddie being a jealous boy <3

word count: 6.5k

| previous part | next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

The four-day break seems to go by in the blink of an eye, and before you know it, it’s show day again.

As always, everybody is busy and filled with pre-show jitters. Although Eddie and Gareth have yet to speak with one another and resolve their dispute, breakfast is not as tense as last time, and you assume the time away from each other has aided in that realm. But then again, you have an inkling that Eddie is only putting up a nice front for Wayne since it’s his last day in New York.

Eddie is stiff and rigid throughout the morning, taught as a guitar string and vividly battling something he has yet to announce. He’s quiet at breakfast and only speaks when directly addressed, and he doesn’t taunt any back and forth that could transpire between him and Gareth. Jeff’s girlfriend joins the table for the first time, and you sit beside her.

Naomi is kind and bubbly with tight, curly brown strands that smell of honey and lime whenever she brushes past you. She’s from a small town in Georgia, where she spent most of her life before going off to college and getting a bachelor's in fine arts. She tells you about her most recent projects and showcases and even invites you to attend if you’re ever in town, and you take her number to keep in contact.

Jeff has radiant energy throughout the meal, and you think he and Naomi make a fine couple with how they seem to complete each other.

After breakfast, you make a few calls for work and fill in Anna on your progress. She informs you that they’re working on setting a date for Corroded Coffin’s photoshoot for the magazine and should be in contact with Richie sometime soon. When Anna asks how the trip has been so far, you lie and tell her it’s been seamless and fun.

You never told Anna about Eddie hating your guts, and you don’t even debate telling her that you’ve somehow stirred the pot between two of the band members or that you kissed the lead singer.

You’re still having a hard time convincing yourself that it was even real.

For a moment, when you woke up this morning, you thought you’d dreamt of kissing Eddie, but no dream ever feels as vivid as that.

You could feel the warmth radiating from Eddie’s body, the coolness of his rings stinging your cheeks when he placed his hands over your jaw to pull you in. The taste and smell of weed mixed in with the worn-down scent of his cologne from the day. And the kiss was so quick, and you were so sleepy you barely had enough time to memorize what his lips felt like or how the feeling of his warm breath against your upper lip sent shivers down your spine.

It left you in a daze for most of the day. Every time you remembered what had happened, your heart raced and the back of your neck heated— and you wanted to ask Eddie what the fuck that was about, but Eddie was nowhere to be found.

After breakfast, Eddie practically falls off the face of the earth. Nobody hears from or sees Eddie, and he doesn’t even show up for rehearsals, which is when Richie becomes suspicious.

“Has anybody fuckin’ seen Eddie, for the love of god?” Richie exclaims. Off to the side, the bass player plucks a deep tune in boredom. Standing center stage, Jeff looks at Richie and shakes his head before glancing at the other two members. Gareth sits behind his drum set, twirling the thick drumsticks between the knuckles of his fingers, lower jaw promptly working a piece of gum as he shrugs. His eye looks better, you note.

And that’s another thing. Gareth has been avoiding you like the plague. You didn’t talk to him much before, but now it’s as if you don’t even exist, and fuck is it making your job more complicated than it already is. How are you supposed to write about Corroded Coffin when half of the said band hates your guts?

Wayne had been spending the day at the hotel, preparing to fly back tomorrow morning, so you doubt he knows where his nephew went. Richie asked an assistant to check if Eddie was being a hermit in his room, but to nobody’s surprise, Eddie wasn’t there either.

By the time 8 o’clock rolls around, the doors to the venue have opened for fans to flood in, and Eddie is still yet to show up. You stand in front of the barricade, a perfect and obstructed view of the stage where you can see everything, including the hustle backstage.

Wayne has opted for a seat next to the sound booth in the crowd, claiming he’d rather not spend the next few hours standing on his feet, “When you’re older, you’ll understand.” He claimed.

You enjoy the opening act, bopping along and singing to the lyrics you know, and before you know it, the band is leaving, and the clock for Corroded Coffin’s appearance is ticking— still, no word from Eddie.

You’re busy watching the stage crew set up Corroded Coffin’s display when a familiar face approaches you. “How’s the article coming along?”

James, one of the three tour photographers for Corroded Coffin. You sat next to James on day five of breakfast. James is kind, and with your little snippets of conversation, you’ve come to peg him as not exactly what you’d expect.

James’ skin is littered with tattoos, sleeves up both arms with intricate ink slithering up his neck. You’d ask him how many tattoos he has in total, and he’d confessed that he lost count a long time ago and has now resulted in just throwing out a random number when people ask, to which you laughed.

He has jet-black curly hair that you’ve only seen at breakfast because he likes to slick it back most days, and he has piercings in each ear and one on his right eyebrow.

He’s a character, James. Intimidating from the outside, but nothing but soft, fluffy teddy bear warmth on the inside.

“It’s… well, it’s going. I’ve still got a bit of work to do, but so far, so good.” You nod. James smiles and nods, “I’m excited to see the final product. I won’t lie, after we spoke at breakfast, I did a little digging,” he responds. You raise your eyebrows in interest, “Digging?”

“Yeah, you know, looked at some of your past work and whatnot— which, by the way, the piece on the Cocteau Twins was insane,” He exclaims. Your eyes widen, “Really? Not many people talk about that one; I didn’t think it got around.” You laugh.

James tells you about his favorite pieces of yours he read, and he asks questions about each one of them. What your favorite interview was, who were you most excited to write about, and which of your works is your favorite piece so far.

You eventually end up talking about James and his current projects aside from the tour. He tells you about the new exhibit he’s partnering with in downtown LA. It’s an immersive piece, something new in the art world where the audience, for the first time, will get to experience art in a more tangible way. It’s more interactive and fulfilling for those who struggle to grasp the full context behind the art, and James seems more than excited about it when he tells you to stop by if you have the time.

However, before you can respond, the lights in the venue dim, and the crowd roars.

This has always been your favorite part of a show, that moment when the lights cut off and the arena comes to life with a shared excitement. It’s exhilarating and pulls you to the edge of your seat, no matter how often you’ve seen it.

Through the smoke-filled venue and the dark atmosphere, you can see each of the boys file out onto the stage, Gareth spinning his drumsticks between his knuckles as he steps onto the drum riser while the other two grab their instruments. Three members are on stage, and you remember that Eddie has been missing in action for the entire day.

The crowd grows louder when they see the shadows of the boys on stage, screaming their names and chanting in anticipation. And as he shreds the first chords to the opening song, you worry that Eddie really might’ve skipped out on tonight’s show.

You’re happily mistaken, however, because soon you see another figure step out, and the crowd goes deafeningly loud.

Beside you, James smiles and shakes his head, “Shit never gets old,” he yells over the screams.

And your heart is racing for some reason as you watch the tall figure walk in the darkness, curly mane of hair akin to a halo as he steps up to the mic, electric guitar strapped across his body.

He leans into the mic and says a few words, words you don’t even hear due to how loud the crowd is, but you feel the gruffness and bass of his voice booming through the speakers, and you nearly mistake it for your heartbeat.

Because when the song finally starts and the stage lights go up, you’re at a loss for words.

Eddie is gorgeous, undeniably so; he always has been, and you never thought he wasn’t. The only thing that got in the way of Eddie’s beauty was his shitty attitude towards you. But this… the way Eddie looks tonight— you’re a speechless and wavering mess of mixed feelings.

Tonight, Eddie is beautiful.

His hair is down as usual, curly and healthy strands sitting pretty atop his shoulders, and he’s opted to play the show in nothing but leather pants and his usual boots.

His upper body is on full display, broad shoulders, and muscles flexing with each strum of his guitar, back muscles working overtime as he trashes along to the music. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, tattoo-covered skin glistening beneath the lights, and you want nothing more than to run your hands down his chest and watch the way it smudges beneath your fingertips.

When the second song finishes, Eddie’s chest is heaving as he pauses and looks out into the crowd, scanning the rows with a lopsided, smug grin.

You can hear faint pants leaving his lips as he leans into the mic, jewelry-wrapped fingers hugging the fret of his guitar. He gazes in silence for a moment, listening to the cheers of the crowd that pull the corners of his mouth into a wider grin. And you don’t even notice the rest of the band on stage because all you see and hear is Eddie.

You hold your breath when his eyes find yours, and your knees nearly buckle at the sight of his dark eyes shining beneath smudged, black eyeliner.

“Fuck,” he breathes with a smile, softly laughing when the crowd screams at his voice, “Do you look good tonight, New York.”

And he’s saying this and looking at you.

He is staring at you like he can see through to your soul, and it makes your head dizzy with a whirlwind of emotions and greedy wishes.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until Eddie finally looks away from you and into the crowd, “Are you ready to have a good time, New York?”

Eddie has never, in all his years of living, played as well as he did tonight.

He’s not sure what exactly caused this; maybe the fact that Wayne is in the crowd tonight, or perhaps because he’s still pissed with Gareth, or maybe because he can’t stop thinking about kissing you, or probably because he hates the way you and James won’t stop fucking talking to each other.

Eddie doesn’t know why it pisses him off to see you laughing and enjoying the company of James, but it does. It ticks him off to no end, and he can’t help the feeling that brews in his chest when you lean forward to hear James over the music or when James innocently squeezes your bicep to get your attention before he says something.

By the middle of the show, Eddie has had enough. He’s four shots of tequila in, and he’s feeling bold with the crowd's energy, so when his infamous guitar solo in one of the songs comes, he doesn’t stand center stage as usual.

No, Eddie makes sure to walk over and stand right in front of where you and James stand and play his solo like it’s the last time he'll ever play.

It’s a sinful view, and the crowd goes wild, the big screens zooming in on his skilled fingers dancing across the frets, the flexing of his wet torso, the flutter of his lashes when he closes his eyes and tosses his head back. His lips are slick and parted in ecstasy from the adrenaline high.

And Eddie can feel your eyes on him. Can feel the heat of your gaze burning through every inch of his body, rolling over every movement he makes and taking him in like he’s a prized possession in a museum. He thrives off of it, and he plays harder.

When his solo ends, Eddie doesn’t bother looking at the crowd or James or his band; no, Eddie only looks at you, making sure you understand what he’s trying to say through his eyes. And for a moment, Eddie wishes James would turn the camera away from him and capture your beauty instead— because you look like an angel under red lights.

Eddie has only allowed himself small moments to appreciate the sight of you, but now, he is greedy with the upper hand he has. He takes in every piece of you; your hair, your eyes, your lips, the delicate necklace kissing the skin of your collarbones— and Eddie wants to run his tongue up the side of your neck and hear you whimper for him. Wants to dig his teeth into your skin until you keen and whine and beg him for more more more.

The skirt you’re wearing, god, it’s fucking short, and Eddie imagines the way your skin would feel beneath his fingers, pressing into the fat of your thighs and marveling when the skin gives way to the pressure. Hot and messy fingerprints all around your hips and ribs. Teeth bearing marks across your stomach and chest. Eddie is dizzy with lust and need, and he feels like a fucking animal writhing and waiting to pounce.

Greedy, greedy, greedy.

He wants it all.

The rest of the show goes back and forth like that. Eddie catches glimpses of you and James talking and takes it upon himself to direct your attention back to the stage— back to him. Near the end, James finally focuses on his fucking job and busies himself with taking pictures instead of flirting with you, and Eddie walks off the stage feeling satisfied.

The band does their meet and greet backstage and signs a few autographs before they can do their usual post-show rituals: drinking, playing games, and making plans to go out.

Despite his love for post-show rituals, Eddie wants nothing to do with it tonight because he can only focus on you.

You’re standing with James and a stage crew member, talking about something Eddie could care less about, given how he cuts into the conversation, “Can we talk?”

Your eyes are wide and bright when you turn to him, shocked by Eddie’s ability to even acknowledge you, and Eddie thinks about last night and how your lips felt against his. “Um… talk?”

Eddie’s still high on post-show energy, and he doesn’t like that James is standing so close to you, so he takes a leap of faith and wraps a hand around your wrist, gently tugging with a short nod, not even waiting for an answer before he turns and drags you out of the green room.

He doesn’t know at what point his fingers traveled down your wrist to slip between your warm and gentle fingers, but he becomes hyper-aware of it as soon as you both step out into the hallway, the slam of the door echoing behind you, “Eddie, where are you taking me?”

Eddie glances back at you, fingers subconsciously squeezing yours, “Dressing room. I wanna do the interview.” He answers.

You halt at his response, heels digging into the cement floor and tugging Eddie back, “What?”

The heat of your palm is burning through Eddie’s skin, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to stop himself from what he wants to do if he continues touching you, so he lets go. “The interview.”

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes, “No, I heard you, but… I mean,” you pause, “why? And why now? This can’t wait until—“

“Look, if you don’t want to do it now, that’s fine, but I’m not doing it any other time.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before turning around and continuing to walk towards his dressing room.

You silently watch for a moment, clearly confused by the sudden change of heart, but you nod either way and follow after him.

Eddie hardly pays any mind to you when you walk in behind him, busying himself with walking over to the bar cart and pouring himself a glass of the first bottle he sees. Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie notices you awkwardly standing near the door and snickers. “You can take a seat, sweetheart; I didn’t bring you here to, like… chew you out or something.” He jokes.

He makes you a glass despite not asking, and when he turns around, you’re now seated on the light brown couch in the middle of the room, hands fiddling in your lap as you silently wait for Eddie.

He sits on the opposite side of the couch and places the second glass on the coffee table, wordlessly nudging it toward you before leaning back in the seat and taking a long sip.

“Where’s your cute little journal?”

You’re confused.

You don’t understand the game Eddie is playing, and it’s driving you insane the longer you look at him, leaned back against the plush couch, smug smirk kissing the rim of his glass as he takes a slow sip, brown, hazy eyes glazing over your nervous figure. The sheer button-down top he now wears is fully unbuttoned to reveal his sweat-glistening torso, leather pants hug his thighs, snug and tauntingly, the button popped open and zipper pulled down to show the sinful sight of a trail of hair that leads to places you’ve been trying so desperately not to imagine. You don’t mean to stare, and you catch yourself when he shifts his hips upward to get more comfortable, the sight of his lower stomach flexing and tattoos coming alive on his skin sending shivers up your spine.

You clear your throat and turn to grab your journal out of your bag. You haven’t had the time to buy a new journal after you ruined the binds by tearing out those pages for Eddie, so you must handle the remaining structure carefully.

You take a deep breath and flip to a clean page, clicking your pen once before glancing at Eddie, “Okay, I guess we’ll… start.”

Eddie smirks, and you want nothing more than to wipe it away.

You open your mouth to ask your first question, but Eddie cuts you off, “I have a proposition,” he begins.

You look at Eddie, blinking once and thinking over if you want to indulge in whatever trick this is. You relent, “Okay?”

Eddie smiles triumphantly and leans forward to put his glass on the table, yours still untouched. He grabs the pack of cigarettes lying to the side, picking a single stick and grabbing the lighter before leaning back onto the couch, lighting the cigarette before shifting to face you. He drapes an arm across the back of the sofa, blowing out a cloud of smoke before speaking, “I get to ask you questions as well. Like a trade-off, for each question you ask, I also get to ask one.”

And it’s not as bad as you’d thought, really. Knowing Eddie, you had expected him to propose a game involving stripping or drinking of some sort, and you had prepared to immediately shut him down— but this, you can settle for this.

So, you shrug, “Okay. We can do that.”

Eddie hums in delight, taking another drag of the burning stick and nodding for you to begin.

“Okay,” you sigh, shifting to get more comfortable. In the distance, you can hear the chaos of backstage rituals happening, and you fight through the noise to focus. “We’ll start light. What made you choose music?”

Eddie twiddles the cigarette between his fingers, silently thinking, “I don’t know. I grew up with music, never went a day without it, so, in a way, I guess you could say music chose me.” He responds.

You nod, “What are some of your first memories with music?”

Eddie smiles and gazes up at the ceiling, and you watch as he seems to wander down a road of memories. “When I was younger,” he begins, “before my mom died, I remember waking up and going to the kitchen to watch her cook breakfast,” he pauses as if trying to see through the fog of time to explain it clearly.

“And she had this small green radio that sat on the window sill, and she would play all of her tapes; The Mamas and Papas, Jefferson Airplane, Sam and Dave— you know… hippie shit.” He says. “I knew Surrealistic Pillow like the back of my hand by the time I could talk, I swear.” He jokes, smiling when you softly laugh. He looks at you, a glint flashing in his eyes, and you can tell the memory brings him a joy he misses.

And you find yourself thinking back to a few days ago, when you were walking beside Wayne with Richie and Eddie a few paces back. You remember what Wayne had told you then; you remember the tone in his voice and the careful thought he’d used behind each sentence.

“Give him time,” Wayne softly says. You glance over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of Eddie and Richie sharing a cigarette. You turn back to Wayne when he adds, “You’re a nice girl, and Eddie… Eddie doesn’t know what to do with nice.”

You dig your teeth into the inside of your cheek, chest tightening at the pained gaze in his eyes when he speaks, “He hasn’t had much of that in his life.”

“I know you don’t owe it to him, but just give him some time… he’ll come around.”

Eddie glances at your empty page before gazing back into your eyes, “You gonna write something down? I’m not repeating any of this, just so you know.”

You nod, snapping out of your daze to begin writing. Eddie patiently waits as you jot down your thoughts and conversation, burning through his cigarette and watching your every move.

You look back at him when you finish, and fight the urge to shy away when you realize he hasn’t looked away from you this entire time. “Um, okay, tell me about—” “I believe I get to ask two questions now.” Eddie cuts in with a smirk.

“Oh,” you pause, “Yeah, okay. Go ahead.”

Eddie ashes his cigarette and grabs his drink again, “When did you start writing?”

And Eddie keeps surprising you. For some reason, you thought Eddie would ask something dumb, inappropriate, or condescending— nothing of this matter. You didn’t think Eddie was interested in actually learning something about you.

You sigh as you think, “Well, the first time I ever wrote for myself was around middle school; I had a diary.” You respond, and Eddie’s eyebrows raise in interest, “It was lilac with a gold lock on the pages, and I carried the key around on my necklace because I was so afraid someone would get ahold of it.” You shake your head as Eddie laughs.

“Now, what in god’s name was little middle school Birdie writing about in her secret diary?” Eddie pries.

You scoff, “Like I’d ever tell you that.” You roll your eyes, and Eddie makes a sound of protest, “Come on, it can’t be that bad.” He pokes. You raise an eyebrow and glance at Eddie, “You’d be surprised by what goes through the mind of a twelve-year-old girl on the precipice of puberty. I’m taking those pages to the grave.”

Eddie laughs loudly at that, head tossing back with the action. You find it beautiful, the way his neck stretches and his skin molds against his bones— kissable and enticing.

“Okay, well, aside from your secretive diary. What made you choose this,” Eddie nods towards the journal in your lap.

You hum and purse your lips in thought, “I’ve always loved writing. I loved reading too, still do, and I tried writing fiction, but there’s something about writing people’s stories that just… feels good.” You respond.

“I know how easy it is to become misunderstood in this industry, so I want to hear the truth and help the audience see things from a clearer perspective. I want to help create an understanding if that makes sense.”

Eddie nods, eyes soft and smiling within his gaze. “That’s neat.” He comments, and you smile.

He sips his drink before speaking, “So, how did you end up writing for Rolling Stone Magazine?”

You laugh, “A shit ton of groveling, I’ll tell you that.”

You reach forward and pick up your drink for the first time, taking a sip before speaking, “I’d been trying to get an interview for the longest time, and then I finally just gave up for a while, but then my friend saw an opening a few months later and sent in one of my writings and… I guess they liked it enough to hire me,” You shrug.

“But,” you hold up a finger, “I spent a good year just running errands and shit for the managers; it was awful,” you admit. “So, how’d you end up with the big guys?” Eddie asks.

“Well, I wrote a hell of a paper and blew their fuckin’ minds.” You jokingly say, smirking over the rim of your glass as you take a sip. Eddie softly laughs and takes a sip of his drink as you place yours back down on the table in exchange for picking up your pen.

“My turn,” You remind him.

He nods, and you glance at your journal, thinking about what you want to ask next. “I know in the past you’ve mentioned that you don’t particularly release songs about your life, but you rather opt to tell stories within your music,” you mention, and Eddie nods in confirmation.

“What’s the reasoning behind that?”

It’s a slightly more in-depth question, and Eddie has to take a few moments of silent pondering before he answers. “Well, for starters, I’ve always considered myself more of a storyteller. I like to create different scenarios and characters and find ways to bring them to life,” He begins.

You quietly jot down notes as you listen to him speak, “When I was in high school, I got really into Dungeons and Dragons, and I still love the game, but I guess you could say it stems from that— the storytelling aspect, I mean.”

“But as for why I don’t release more personal songs… I don’t know; I guess I just like to keep a part of my life private to some degree. However, that doesn’t mean these made-up characters and scenarios I sing about aren’t in some way correlated to me,” He hints, and you nod in understanding.

“That’s neat.” You copy his words from earlier, and you both smile.

You and Eddie go back and forth with questions for a bit, touching base with topics like childhood, friendships, current projects, and such. It’s nice to have a decent conversation with Eddie, and for a moment you forget that you’re even doing your job because interviewing Eddie feels like any normal conversation you’d have— lighthearted, smooth, and innocent. Until—

“Alright, my turn. This one’s good,” Eddie starts.

You’re both two glasses in, and your cheeks feel warm from the drinks as you gesture for Eddie to go on. Eddie gazes at you and studies you briefly before speaking, “What’s going on with you and James?”

You blink in confusion, “James?” You question. Eddie nods, “Yeah, James. The photographer.” Eddie explains.

Your face twists in slight confusion as Eddie sips his drink, “What about him?” You ask.

Eddie laughs, “What’s up with you two? Are you guys together or something?”

And there it is. The game that Eddie’s been playing all along, revealed in all its true nature.

Your eyebrows furrow in defense, annoyed with the sudden shift in demeanor, “Is that any of your business?” You question, and Eddie laughs, tapping his ring against the glass of his drink with a soft clink, “Sweetheart, it’s my business if I’m cutting the check.” He snickers.

You narrow your gaze at him, clearly irritated with his words. You don’t know why you ever gave him the chance. Eddie has only ever shown you his true colors, and he’s, more than once, told you that he doesn’t take you or your profession seriously. This has reminded you so.

“You don’t pay me,” you snap, “And I doubt you’ve even touched a check in the last three years.”

Eddie smirks, amused by your sudden frustration, “Maybe you have a point,” he relents, “But you still haven’t answered my question.” He points out.

You roll your eyes, “Why do you care, Eddie?”

Eddie shrugs, “I’m curious.” He smugly answers.

“I don’t ask you who you’re fucking, do I?” A lousy attempt at dodging the question.

Eddie shrugs again, “You could if you want to, I don’t mind. I bet you’ve been curious to know anyway, haven’t you?” He replies.

You don’t like the way that makes your insides squirm with heat.

And you could tell him the truth. You could tell him the simple and honest answer that, no, nothing is going on between you and James. But as you look at Eddie sitting across the couch, you can’t find a single reason why Eddie should even care or why he should have the satisfaction of an answer. “Ask something else.” You say.

Eddie doesn’t waste a second to spit out his next question, “Did you like the kiss?”

“A different question.” “Those are my questions, princess.”

God, you don’t even know why you’re putting up with this. You could easily just get up and leave, but you hate to give Eddie any room for thinking he’s won whatever stupid battle this is.

You shut your journal, refusing to stay another minute, going back and forth with Eddie. You stand and grab your bag, shoving your journal in before looking at Eddie and finally answering his original question, “No, nothing is going on between me and James.” You admit. And you think Eddie will leave it at that, but you're sadly mistaken.

“And the kiss?” He asks.

“What about it?” Your composure is beginning to falter and your frustration is seeping into your tone. Eddie’s eyes glint with mischief, gaze never leaving your fidgety frame as he speaks, “Did you like it?”

“No.”

A lie. A terrible one that Eddie can see right through.

You begin making your way to the door, but Eddie catches you before you can even lay a finger on the handle, turning you around to face him when he speaks, “You’re a shit liar.” He points out.

And he’s so close you can barely think straight with his overwhelming presence. You find your footing through the haze, gazing into Eddie’s eyes when you speak, “Did you ask me to come in here so you can answer my questions, or did you just want to waste my time?”

Eddie is silent for a long moment, eyes dancing between your wide and sharp gaze, darting down to your lips, the tip of his pink tongue darting out to lightly lick across his bottom lip. You can smell the smoke on his breath, reaching out to mix with your liquor-coated exhales.

“Did you like the kiss?”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Eddie has you cornered now, pressed against a wall so tight you have no choice but to admit defeat, moving forward to press your lips against his liquor-slicked lips.

It’s hasty. Messy, greedy, drunk, and needy, and it rids your mind of all rational thought as Eddie presses himself against you.

Eddie kisses you like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get, pressing into you so close you’d think he’s trying to jump into your skin. And the taste of Eddie is addicting.

You crave for more, and you’re hesitant to push, but Eddie understands the second he feels your tongue lick against your lips. He takes it upon himself to push his tongue into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth, and you happily let him. All clear thinking has gone out the window at this point, and you let your bag slink off your shoulder to plot onto the floor, busying yourself with sinking your fingers into the curly strands of his hair and gently tugging at the root. Eddie moans against your lips, and you pant, your brain going dizzy at the heavenly sound.

Eddie’s hands are eager and hungry as they rest against your hips, sneaking up your torso to squeeze and grab at your skin. And he hates the fact that there are so many layers of clothes between you, and he wants them gone.

His hand travels down the side of your body and digs into the thick of your thigh, dipping lower to catch the back of your knee and hitch your leg around his waist. You keen, pitching your hips forward into Eddie’s, and he moans, greedily squeezing your skin and gliding up your leg. Cool rings send shivers up your spine when he slips under the hem of your denim skirt and kneads the fat of your ass.

If breathing weren’t a necessity, you would kiss Eddie forever, but your lungs burn with the lack of air, so you find yourself pulling away with a wet gasp, “I—“ Eddie presses a kiss to your lips, cutting you off before you can speak and you whine, fingers moving to dig into the soft material of his open shirt, “Eddie, I can’t… I can’t breathe, I gotta breathe,” You pant.

Eddie laughs, and you smile as he trails his kisses down to your neck, licking against the base of your throat before sinking his teeth into the skin. You moan, whiney and loud in Eddie’s ear and he hums in appreciation, grumbling into the skin of your neck as he speaks, “I wanna fuck you.”

His teeth scrape against your pulse, and you gasp, head dropping back against the wall with a soft thud as your nails dig into the skin of Eddie’s shoulder. “What?” You hazily blink.

Eddie moves back to see you, lust-ridden eyes darting all over your face. And he looks so pretty, hair messy, shirt skewed against his lean frame, lips swollen and pink from kissing, and you want him. You want him to a dangerous degree.

He kisses you, muttering his words against your lips as he squeezes your hips and pulls you closer, “I wanna fuck you.” Eddie repeats.

You pant, opening your mouth against his and preparing to speak, but you’re interrupted by the door opening, the two of you jumping at the sudden intrusion, your hand swiftly shoving at Eddie’s body to push him away.

And you think you might die because who better to walk in on you and Eddie practically devouring one another than fucking Jeff.

“Oh, shit, uh,” Jeff looks the other way as soon as he sees you and Eddie. You hastily pick up your bag and tug your skirt back down to a modest length from where it had ridden up to your hips.

You and Eddie are still breathing heavily from your extremities, and Eddie— fucking Eddie; he snickers when Jeff glances back at him and makes a lazy attempt at holding back a laugh. Your face and neck heat up in embarrassment as you shift in your spot, wanting nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“The car is here, man, let’s go,” Jeff snickers before leaving.

And truthfully, you don’t currently have the confidence to look Eddie in the eye and register what’s just happened between you two. So, you grip the strap of your bag and flee before Eddie can say or do anything.

You’re not sure how that happened, and you’re not sure why it makes your stomach twist in a way that makes you blush, but you like it.

And you can’t believe yourself.

You can’t believe that you spent the entire drive to the hotel thinking about how Eddie’s hands felt on your body, his lips against the skin of your neck, or how you could feel him pressed against your thigh, begging to be touched.

When you shower, you try to ignore the throbbing ache between your legs when you think of those words Eddie whispered to you. You try to ignore it as you get ready for bed and ignore the toe-curling sensation of the cool hotel sheets brushing against your hardened nipples when you slip into bed. You try so hard; you really do.

But you can’t help it when you begin imagining how Eddie’s hands would feel across your chest, the light and rough feeling of his calloused fingers ghosting over your nipples to watch as you writhe beneath him.

Fuck, you really try to ignore it.

But you can’t. It’s annoying, the way Eddie clouds your mind. And you feel like a bitch in heat when the only thing running through your mind and body is the burning desire to cum. And if you stuff your hands between your thighs and bring yourself to cum to the idea of Eddie and the feeling of him pressed against you with your name on his tongue, who’s to judge you but yourself?

Because despite everything your mind is telling you, you can’t help but find yourself wanting Eddie.

But all of that flies out the window the following day.

You’d decided to order breakfast to your room, and the hotel sends the daily newspaper with each meal, and you like to read it while sipping on a hot cup of coffee on your terrace. However, when you see the newsletter cover, you’re not sure you have much of an appetite for coffee.

A picture of Eddie from last night with a familiar red-headed girl wrapped around his arm and a caption that makes your stomach twist in knots. The caption, ‘Corroded Coffin lead singer, Eddie Munson, new girlfriend debut!” in bold and italicized letters.

And you don’t know why, but your stomach sinks. You should’ve known better.

————

part six

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a/n: HIII YOU MADE IT TO THE END!! i know i said there would be drama drama in this part BUT it started getting too long for my liking, SOOO THE REAL DRAMA WILL COMMENCE IN PART 6 HEHE. THANK YOU FOR READING, AND AS ALWAYS, I LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS SO PLS LMK IN THE COMMENTS OR REBLOGS HOW YOU FEELLL <3

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@mvnsonslvt @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly

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kyeomsense · 6 months

Text

svt maknae line as your bf hcs

pt 2 baby!!

svt x f!reader, all fluff

wc: ~2.1k

read the hyung line ver

minghao

☆ takes you out on artsy dates (museum hopping, painting, decoden, brunch at a boujee cafe, etc.)

☆ takes candid photos of you every chance he gets. he uses them as reference for his art later and as a small pick-up when hes feeling down

☆ he understands the need for individuality in a relationship. although he loves you and you feel the same about him, he makes it clear that the two of you dont complete each other, but instead compliment each other

☆ hes not as openly affectionate around others, but he makes sure you know that hes there by rubbing your knuckles, walking close enough so that your shoulders brush, and leaving a small kiss on your head after each hug

☆ loves to dress you up! he thinks you look great in anything, but he especially likes how the clothes he picks out look on you. youre like his personal fashion model and he loves it

☆ hes super sweet to your family. he shows a lot of respect towards them and they take him in as if he was their long-lost child.

☆ he is brutally honest. he tells you exactly what he thinks and offers suggestions on how to fix things. although he still comforts and reassures you, he also tells you the truth and helps you accept reality

☆ he loves to make you tea! you two even have designated tea time where you both wind down and just talk about life for a bit

☆ the type to ask what youd like for breakfast at night and wake you up with the heavenly smell of his cooking

☆ while walking home from your favorite cafe with freshly-baked pastries, he stops by a local flower shop. when he gets home, he prepares the bouquet in a pretty vase and leaves them on the counter. they remind him of you, and he cant help but smile at the surprised look on your face when you wake up to see the flowers blooming in your kitchen

mingyu

☆ loves the way you look in his clothes. his favorite look on you is when youre in your pajama shorts and one of his big white tees

☆ super clumsy (but its endearing!!). he always finds ways to drop your things, but the sad puppy eyes and string of apologies leaving his lips make you forgive him every time

☆ he. loves. kissing. at the beginning of your relationship, he spent nearly half the time he had with you with his mouth latched onto yours. your friends said he looked at you like he wanted to eat you. he mellows out as time goes on, but the passion from the honeymoon stage of your relationship still lingers

☆ hes not afraid to show everyone that youre his girlfriend.. all the time.. anywhere.. he always shows his affection for you as if no one else was around

☆ the type to bury his face into your neck and hug you from behind all night (he wont let go until you “say the magic word, ‘please’”)

☆ hates that he loves it when you tease him. you think hes so cute when he gets flustered or upset, and although he tells you to knock if off and whines for you to stop messing with him, he secretly loves it.

☆ always shoots you a good morning text! if hes really feeling it, he’ll even send a selfie of him in bed, barefaced, with his hair all poofy and messed up from rolling around in bed

☆ hes a big softie normally, but an even bigger softie for you. he’ll bend over backwards to make you happy, and he never wants you to stop smiling

☆ a bit of a himbo, but it only makes him cuter. he always says dumb stuff that makes you laugh or trips over himself trying to impress you.

☆ gets the warmest, fuzziest, most mind-boggling feeling whenever he thinks of you. his friends always tease him about it (“you look like a real life heart eyes emoji. can you stop thinking about her and focus?”)

seokmin

☆ the most ‘boyfriend’ boyfriend to ever exist. he asks his friends to take photos of him when hes away. he sends them to you and captions them “look! its like we’re on a date <3”

☆ laughs the loudest when youre around. he finds you hilarious and loves your sense of humor

☆ gets drunk and sends you these long, drawn-out text messages where he expresses his love for you and how he wants to marry you. he gets super embarrassed when you tease him about them them the morning after

☆ he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky for him. every time you meet his gaze, his eyes are full of adoration, and a bright smile accompanies them.

☆ loves to pick up things that he knows you like while hes out shopping. he fills his cart with your favorite meal kits, frozen desserts, and even texts you photos of things asking if youd like him to buy them

☆ loves to surprise you with his strength. sometimes you forget just how buff he is due to his loose-fitting, boxy shirts. he loves picking you up randomly and laughs when you yelp in surprise and smack his arm while telling him to put you down

☆ shares everything with you! his clothes, his food, he even clears out one of his dresser drawers for you

☆ always sets up these really elaborate comedic bits with you. he knew he wanted to marry you from the moment you first played along

☆ he loves your hands. hes always messing with them, holding them, massaging them. he just loves your hands so much and especially loves seeing them when your fingers are entwined with his

☆ when he introduces you to his family, they all latch onto you immediately and basically adopt you. they adore you, and hes so happy that they approve of you he accidentally writes your last name as his instead of your own

seungkwan

☆ hes your best friend, and thats what makes your relationship so great. he knows you like the back of his hand, and you return that sentiment equally

☆ when he officially introduces you as his girlfriend to his family, his mom makes a comment about how he wouldnt stop talking about you for months. she adores you (sometimes, seungkwan even thinks that she loves you more than him)

☆ hes great at comforting you and empathizing with what youre going through. he hates seeing you cry, but knows that its needed. he holds you for as long as you need him to and listens to your problems just like you do for him

☆ hes extremely protective of you. not in the sense that he goes overboard and makes it weird, but in the sense that he doesnt want you to get hurt and he’ll confront anyone who he knows has bad intentions towards you

☆ he doesnt put up with your crappy friends’ bullshit. he sees right through them and makes an effort to tell you immediately how he perceives them, but he doesnt force you to follow his advice

☆ on his days off, he wakes you up with kisses and breakfast in bed. when you move to eat, you realize that hes already cut everything into bite-sized portions for you

☆ he peels the rind off of the tangerines his mom sent him before placing them on your plate

☆ although he loves you and wants to stay with you forever, he has no plans set up for the future. he simply wants to stay by your side for as long as he can, and hes willing to do whatever youd like to do in the future with your relationship

☆ he loves it when you call him “kwannie”, he thinks its adorable and feels his cheeks heat up each time

☆ he takes you out on the most romantic picnic dates and always stresses on planning ahead. he brings extras of everything and checks the weather app feverishly to make sure your dates dont get ruined by a drop of rain

vernon

☆ he cracks jokes at you with a straight face and it breaks you every time. he smiles afterwards and stares at you with love in his eyes

☆ he uses cheesy pick-up lines on you even though youre already dating. he loves how you cringe and get all shy, especially when he does it in front of your friends

☆ the two of you spend hours laying in bed and just talking. you talk about anything and everything, and you both end up sleeping as the sun rises

☆ you love his face, and he knows it. hes handsome. he always stares at you and likes watching you fumble whatever is in your hands or trip over yourself like a teenage girl every time he does

☆ he loves at-home dates. hes always wanted to cook a romantic meal for you, but he settles for ordering takeout since he cant figure out the meal kit in your freezer

☆ hes a bit of a blanket hog. the two of you giggle and thrash around the bed on most nights while fighting for the blanket

☆ the type to not question you much when you tell him to do something. if you told him to drink a mysterious liquid, he would. he trusts you completely

☆ you provide each other a sense of safety. you feel safe in his arms and he feels safe in yours. emotionally and physically you both allow each other to sleep soundly.

☆ he buys pairs of beanies whenever he finds cute ones so that he can match with you

☆ he loves to think about the stupidest hypotheticals with you and daydream about alternate realities (he bets that he’d still be yours in all of them)

chan

☆ hes your biggest fan. he loves hyping you up and reassuring you that youre more than enough, that youre beautiful and that hes so glad youre his girlfriend

☆ when he confessed to you, his exact words were “can i be your boyfriend?” instead of “will you be my girlfriend?” because he thought it was too cliché

☆ he loves it when you watch him dance. it makes him go 10x harder than he normally would. after practice is over, he drags you onto the dance floor and pulls you in for a hug, laughing as you whine about how sweaty he is

☆ his eyes are shining when he introduces you to his grandma. the two of you spend the evening talking with her and sipping on hot teas while she makes the tastiest stew youve ever had

☆ his favorite nights are those spent with you. lights off, on the couch with you on top of him and feeling you pressed close against him while the newest episode of your favorite kdrama illuminates the room. (he honestly cant remember what its about, and neither can you, because you both end up kissing and cuddling through multiple episodes)

☆ youre his partner in crime. you spend a lot of time plotting ways to tease his hyungs and end up agreeing to a lot of wild antics that end with the two of you being chased down by a pouty seungcheol

☆ he gets extremely silly around you. for some reason, having you around boosts his confidence, and he cracks more jokes and is way more extroverted in your presence

☆ the first time he heard you crying in bed, he turned you to face him and asked you what was wrong. he held you close, his face inches away from yours, and told you that everything would be okay. you fell asleep in his arms, with his hands running through your hair and the sound of his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep

☆ he put his photocard in the back of your phone case as a joke. every time he sees it, his cheeks get hot, but he cant quite tell if the blush is from embarassment or endearment (“you still havent taken that out yet? …no! its not a problem at all!!”)

☆ he lets you style him, even letting you do his hair and makeup. he says you do a better job than the makeup artists at work. he puts on a show for you afterwards, putting on his model face and letting you host a mini photo shoot for him

a/n: finally finished writing this! tbh i went a bit out of order when writing all 13 members, so this should have been out way earlier than the hyung line one, but.. yeah! hope this is good :> happy 17th heaven release day everyone!!

#seventeen #svt fluff #svt x reader #minghao x reader #mingyu x reader #seokmin x reader #seungkwan x reader #vernon x reader #lee chan x reader #minghao fluff #mingyu fluff #seokmin fluff #seungkwan fluff #vernon fluff #lee chan fluff

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fear-is-truth · 1 month

Text

𝑳𝑬𝑻 𝑴𝑬 𝑩𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 ⴰ༢ ୧

── being kai anderson’s manipulative girlfriend hc

tags: fem! reader. nsfw + sfw. kai is a warning himself, you aren’t any better though (manipulative behavior.) talks of murder, sex

taglist || masterlist

☪︎ ִ ࣪my friend said that this hc sounds like how she’d imagine my relationship with Kai. kind of a low blow but also the best compliment ever so.. no complaints

your ability to see through his lies and manipulation frustrates him to no end, as Kai was accustomed to everyone doing whatever he told them to

you won’t follow every single order Kai gave you, unless you think it’s feasible. most of the time, you operate on your own terms

your independent activities would annoy Kai, as he prefers to maintain control over all activities in F.I.T

however, once he recognizes how your actions benefit the cult's agenda, his fury would give way to reluctant admiration

as his girlfriend and second in command, you hold a delicate position in the cult - dangerously close to the centre of power and yet somehow the safest, as your connection to him gives you some degree of protection

any cult member who annoys you? good as dead. you’d find a way to frame them or make Kai get suspicious of them

he hates it when you boss the other cult members around, but also secretly thinks it’s kinda hot

Winter would have mixed feelings about you. she thinks you’re cool but she’s also lowkey afraid of you because you remind her of her brother sometimes

you’re the only one who can keep Kai in line (sort of)

but you’re also capable of making him worse. and vice versa (couple goals)

he puts a tracker in your phone, which you found out and dismantled it

pinky power is completely pointless

it’ll be personal contest— who’s the better liar? you two have the best poker faces

you were the first one to drink the “poisoned” kool aid. risky move but worth it

you carry a bottle of Adderall for Kai at all times. he even trusts you enough to let you administer the pill directly into his mouth

ways to manipulate him

kill for him. that’s an instant hard-on

feed that ego. you praise his leadership skills, intelligence and charisma, deepening his belief in his own superiority

mother him. wash his hair when you shower together. assist him with shaving. lay out his clothes for him. make him manwiches

behind the guise of nurturing gestures, every act of practical care serves as a small manipulation, reinforcing his dependency on you while gradually asserting your influence over him

you’ll have him wrapped around your little finger

councilman at day, clown at night

you’d play a crucial role in his election campaigns, acting as the perfect arm candy to bolster his public image

in public settings, you display affection in subtle yet very calculated ways:

holding hands, staring into each others eyes, sharing deep kisses— strategically timed for the cameras to capture

and the media would eat it all up

it’ll enhance Kai's image as a loving and passionate partner

you were the one who came up with the staged assassination stunt

Meadow was getting too close to Kai, and it irked you. so you planted that idea into Kai’s head, and he put it into action

Meadow got laid and then died, Kai got elected councilman, and you have your man all to yourself.. win-win-win situation!

wear a sexy clown outfit that comes with a corset and shows cleavage

it will distract Kai and piss him off because he has to maintain his dignity as a leader while trying to hide his raging boner

violence also turns him on; Kai likes his girls crazy. be the harley quinn to his joker

incorporate deadpan humour. during these fucked up situations, gotta lighten up the mood with disturbing and witty remarks

nsfw headcanons

Kai would ask you to seduce more followers into joining the cult

and the hypocrite would get so jealous, even though it was his idea

sex will be bomb though. he’d put in extra effort to prove that he’s superior

you give each other hickeys, lots

needless to say, you’d be the sub. that’s basically the no.1 rule in your relationship

better to squeeze a few tears during sex. it’ll fuel his ego, big time

if you’re giving him head, gag on purpose

he tells you that once he becomes president of the U.S, you’d be First Lady and he’ll fuck you in every single room in the White House (132 in total)

needless to say that you’re going to be the perfect mother of his messiah baby

a/n: i’m actually a sweetheart, don’t listen to my friend. oh and buzz-cut kai can rail me

TAGLIST @acidbrainstorm @evanpetersmybf @alittlesil @kaiandersonsdevotedwife @ellaaaaa44 @newwavesylviaplath @warrenlipkaswife @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @howtobesasha @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @kai-slut @lak3cityqui3tpills @coentinim @doll3tt33 @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @stveharringtn @violet1737 @sukirosiac @slutforgarlogan @90sbr1descake

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 8 months

Text

GoGo Dancer

Pairing- OPLA!Sanji x reader

Summary- After a hard day Sanji goes to see his favorite dancer.

Warnings- afab reader, oral (fem receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, orgasm denial (once), hints that this has happened before, hints that Sanji ignores reader 🙄 that should be it

a/n- if you hate it move on peace and love 🫰🏼

Sanji just couldn’t help himself, relishing in your beauty knowing the only reason you use it is to get money. Your hips moved along with the beat song as your body shined on stage demanding all eyes in you, no less.

Zeff had thrown him from the line for making an absolutely delectable dish that, in Zeefs own words; “A waste of good quality.” So after he was done bussing tables he came to his favorite bar to relieve some stress, to his favorite gogo dancer.

Your eyes scan the room, unable to miss Sanji’s predatory orbs starting you down as your threw your ass around hounds of men whistling up at you. After the song was over, and a minute past closing you left the stage. The men in the audience yell profanity after profanity and other drunken nonsense as you walk off stage. Once you were out of sight Sanji stood from his table quickly taking quick almost robotic steps to your dressing room.

He tightens his tie gripping the door knob and opens the door to find you waiting in front of the makeup vanity that illuminates your features. The ruby red lipstick enunciates your plum lips, mascara and eyeliner drawing attention to your gorgeous eyes, and a blush that adores your skin tone. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to ruin it.

He steps in completely, closing the door behind him. You stare at each other through the mirror. “So,” you begin. “What’d Zeff say this time?” You ask him, taking your styled hair down in the process. He ignores your passive aggression, “Same as always.” He replies toying with one of your golden nicknack probably gifted by a pirate or some such trying to seduce you with the promise of gold, love, pleasure. But Sanji knows the only thing you need for pleasure is right in the kitchen at Baratie.

He puts it down, sauntering over to you, grabbing hold to your neck, he makes you look up at him. You keep your face motionless. “Missed you.” He tipped his head to the side, blonde hair moving along with it. He pulled you a little by the throat, slouching a little as well. Your fingers lay nimbly on his hand making no attempt to move him though. Connecting your lips he kissed you passionately, lips dancing in wild motion, lipstick smearing on his and your mouth. He pulled away leaving you breathless.

The sides of your mouth tip up into a sly smile, “Sure ya’ did.” You reply, tapping your polished nails against his hand. “Want me to prove it to you?” His smirk is almost identical to yours, turning you around in your chair. He strokes your cheek moving a fly away from your face, he gets down on his knees, now at your level. He moves his finger down your skin, over the revealing outfit, across your hip and lap, hand massaging your inner thigh.

Subconsciously, you want to peel your thighs for him letting him do his magic. But, nonetheless he has to pay retribution. Being denied attention when he thinks he deserves it, a taste of his own medicine. “I know, I know.” He rubs your thigh, “I’ve been neglectful, I know it hurts your feelings, but let me prove it to you.” He repeats his earlier statement, truth be told Sanji did hold feelings for you, very strong feelings in fact.

You contemplate for a minute but it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had a really good orgasm, and Sanji makes you a weak woman with his looks and words of persuasion. Your legs spread for him, his smirk spreads into an appease smile. He grips one of your thighs, throwing it over his shoulder he pulls you by the hips closer to the edge of the chair.

You only had the small pearl white slacks that barely covered your bottom and panties to hide you from him. He slowly, excruciatingly slow that you could feel you arousal drip. He hooks two fingers between your underwear and leotard pulling them out of the way together. Once moved he stops eyeing your pretty pussy.

Your wetness glistened in the light, his mouth watered needing to taste you. Yanking you closer he looks you directly into the eyes as he suckles against your clit. Every never ending feeling electrical, licking strips up and down your aching cunt he could feel you mostien against his tongue.

Out of all the things Sanji has made or tried in his entire life he believes you are the most desirable, delicious, most succulent thing that this world has to offer.

He let go of one of the thighs he held down and he moved back to your clit mouth wrapping back around it. He brought two fingers to your awaiting hole, slipping both in and you suck him in greedily. He thrusted them in quickly and gently, his long fingers hitting every single sweet spot. The noises coming from you were unspeakable as his tongue moved gracefully against your flesh, your body felt like it could explode, your eyes scrunch closed, jaw tightening as you felt the coils of pleasure build, and build, and build. He knew you were close, so fucking close.

But, then he stopped.

Why’d he stop?

You open your eyes, frustration and annoyance painted all over it. Before you could say or complain he moves you from the chair, standing up straight kicking the chair out of the way. “What are you doin—“ you can’t even finish your sentence before he has pushed you harshly on the vanity, the few things decorating it falling to the floor. He held the side of your neck shutting you up with a rough kiss, he unbuttoned his slacks pushing them down along with his boxers.

Pushing you head against the mirror elongating the kiss, straining your lungs, he guides his cock to your begging cunt, sliding the tip over your pussy up and down, over and over again. Crying out for him to fuck you he finally slips his tip in. Teasingly he slides in at an antagonizing pace when you try to squirm or wiggle your hips he slams a strong hand down keeping you in place. Once he’s settled all the way in, tip kissing your cervix.

He pulls out almost all the way, his entire cock shining with your wet.

Thrusting back in swiftly he brings your hips down to meet him. A shocked but approving gasp comes from you as he continues to drill into you. Fucking up into you all while he makes your hips fuck him. Pleasure takes you in again, like overcoming waves in a black ocean. Pulling the thin fabric of the tight, white bra-like shirt from over your tits exposing your hardened nipples. Sanji grunts, cock twitching inside your pulsating walls that suck him in with every pull.

Pushing your legs apart farther his duck pushes deeper pulling a whole new sensation out of you. Legs wrapping around his waist bringing him closer, needing to feel his hot body in you. It felt as if you and Sanji held the same breath, the same heartbeat and you couldn't help but relish in it head tipping back as you tried to move your hips along with his merciless thrusts.

Your clit moved along his pelvis friction burning through you. He lets go of your lower body, cradling your face he pulls you into a passion filled kiss, thrust moving quicker, faster, tongues flicking togetherjn a ecstacy induced haze.

And just like that you explode.

Back arching into his chest. Gasping against his lips, thighs trying their best to stay open. Your lungs constrict, walls clamping down, it was nearly impossible for Sanji not to cum right then and there. Your nerves shake in pure, raw pleasure.

A few more sloppy thrust and Sanji couldn’t hold any longer letting go of his heavy load. His vision burned bright and his hold was surely bruising. He rode his climax down, he held you still for a moment, both of you catching your breath.

After you both had your clothes back on you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he headed out. It’s a repeat of both of you scared of rejection but too addicted to leave.

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