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#Eek that was cheesy

little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 days

Note

Here’s the thing: I’m slightly feral (more than slightly, who am I kidding) over Tans jewellery, and I just came across this pic of matching sun/ moon necklaces and OH MY GOD IMAGINE HAVING MATCHING JEWELLERY WITH HIM?!?! IM CRYING like the sun/ moon one is sorta perfect as well?? Bc it’s not cheesy or obvious, they complement rather than complete each other, and also I think out of pure protectiveness, he’d find it really important that he’d be able to wear it all the time - even when he’s working - and not having to worry about it looking suss for any of his enemies if they ever (god forbid!!) saw you and made the connection due to the jewellery. (Speaking of- I think he’d be against traditional wedding rings for the same reason. He’d hate taking it off, but would also absolutely refuse to take the risk of his enemies coming looking for you bc of it)

I AM LOSING MY SHIT

OH MY FUCKING GOD I AM NOT OKAY WHAT THE HELL OMG OWJDKQKSNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im not going to be able to think about anything else

and you’re so right about the complimenting each other not completing each other!!!

your brain is working wonders rn, I love everything you said

I just thought of something and I need to add it, when he goes away for work, you swap necklaces, so he always has a part of you and you always have a part of him. it’s like a good luck charm and let’s the other know they’re thinking about them, and a memento if he dies (eek) but it’s a good luck charm so he’s not gonna die obvs

I just thought of another thing, I quite like the idea of him having one of those necklaces with a wedding ring as the charm. so he still has a wedding ring, but doesn’t wear it on his finger bc of work. and a big huge fat yes to him hating to take it off!!!!!

#ask #everythingisspokenfortbh #tangerine headcanon

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maivolpe · 1 year

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hii! i j read “as long as ur with me” & i love ur writing :3 could i request a very cheesy fic in which reader’s alrdy confessed to bucky & bucky’s rejected them ? ( maybe bc he’s unsure abt his feelings ? ) tony holds a party later & bucky gets jealous ( ooo ~~ ) of the reader after he sees them talking & being close to sam, ( meanwhile the reader’s only talking to sam for help abt bucky ? ) basically mutual pining but reader & bucky just need a push in the right direction ?? thank u either way & i hope u have a nice day ♡Ꮺ៸៸

thank you so much for your kind words :) so sorry for the delay, writer's block hit me like a truck last month so i'm trying to slowly get back into it (this is really lengthy and i don’t like it very much eek) anyways thank you for requesting ♡

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader cw: mentions of alcohol, cursing, knives wc: 1.5k

tony was having yet another party. you swore he never even slept, just drank the night away with whoever was willing to with him. tonight, however, you didn’t have time to lecture him about his coping mechanisms. you had more pressing problems.

exactly a week before, bucky had invited you to spar. you'd jumped at the chance to have such experienced competition, and, if you were being honest, your heart raced when he pinned you. or talked to you, or even just looked at you, anything really. but everyone thought that way. right? right.

he’d let you choose one of his blades to work with, stating that he wanted you to be more familiar with knives. they were much easier to come by than guns, he’d noted.

"move your hand here instead of there... there you go."

"watch your six, good."

and soon enough the critiques turned to compliments, and it was much more of a fair fight. for almost an hour you were evenly matched, each dodging nearly all of the others’ blows.

as time dragged on, bucky started to get distracted. his eyes had flickered away for only a split second, but it was all you needed. you pushed him up against the wall, holding your knife to his throat. your breaths came quick and hard, and you'd stared up at his smirk, just inches from your face.

"careful there," he'd breathed. "you want to stab your opponent, not kiss them."

and with a rush of confidence, you'd cocked your head.

"would it be so bad?"

recognition dawned in his eyes, and that was the last thing you saw before a flash of metal overtook your vision. his knuckles had struck your ribs hard, and you went flying. he’d stalked out of the room and left you sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath.

ever since then, you’d been stuck in a whirlpool of emotions, keeping yourself confined to your room whenever you could. your ribs were bruised along with your ego, and altogether you just felt terrible. what were you thinking? what posessed you to leave a thought you would've been embarassed to even think, just floating in the air like that? and now tony was hosting this party, and the last thing you wanted to do was go.

well, maybe you'd get something to drink.

the room was flooded with people, packed to the brim with journalists, celebrities, and some uninvited partiers that had found their way in. trying to avoid conversation, you found yourself, drink in hand, tucked away in the corner of the room with sam.

“i feel so stupid, sam.”

“dude, i’m sure it’s not that serious. he probably just freaked out a little. and besides, i mean, look at you!” he motioned towards your dress, giving his hands a shake to emphasize how it flattered your figure.

“listen, though,” he continued. “just give him some time. he’s one to avoid any and all confrontation, but he’ll come around. with some nagging, maybe.”

you laughed. “thank you. i’m sorry for bothering you about this, i know it’s not super important.”

“it’s super important to you,” he pointed out, stuffing an hor d'oeuvre in his mouth. “‘s ‘mportant t’me by default.”

“ew, sam.”

bucky, in the meantime, was livid.

he’d come down just to grab a drink, or five, because the serum made it particularly tough for him to be inebriated. in the two minutes he was downstairs, of course he’d caught a glimpse of you, the very person he was trying to avoid. and you looked beautiful.

the party spilled out of open doors, people clambering in for a glance at tony. many shoved past him at an attempt to get closer to the middle of the room. it was a security nightmare, and also, he couldn’t hear anything.

he saw sam leaning in, whispering something to you, gesturing to your body? and you were laughing? as if his week hadn’t been bad enough, you’d moved right on from him. he wasn’t mad at you, he could never be. but sam?

“i need some air,” he grumbled to no one in particular. he pushed past waves of partygoers, keeping his head down, and slipped away through the first door he found.

across the room, you felt your heart sink to your stomach. you’d only seen bucky for a moment, and despite your determination to be happy, the look of revulsion on his face made you want to crumble.

“sam, i- i need some air.”

he nodded, brushing crumbs off of his chin and waving as you ducked through the crowd, dodging drinks and people alike. your ears rang, and even the silence of the elevator was deafening when the doors slid shut.

you tumbled out of the elevator as soon as the doors slid open, steadying yourself on a nearby doorknob. the wind whipped around your body, sending goosebumps down your arms and stinging your eyes. it was far too cold to be out on the roof, but where else was there to be?

you crept closer to the edge, perching on the roof so that you could see the city moving below you. cars and trucks whizzed by, oblivious to your existence. you found the bright colors of the stoplights blurring in your vision.

you were quickly learning that your emotions would always get the better of you. no matter how determined you were, they always took control.

the maintenance door behind you creaked open, and you whirled around to see who had found you. the glint of metal under the spotlights told you all you needed to know, and you quickly turned away.

“are you… crying?”

“no,” you sniffed, swiping fruitlessly at your tears.

"okay."

bucky lowered himself down next to you, stretching his legs to let them dangle off of the roof. he left a good space between the two of you, and you couldn't even bring yourself to hope he'd close the gap.

there was silence for a few moments, where neither of you dared to even breathe, much less look at each other.

"i was wrong," he whispered.

"what?"

“i said, i was wrong."

it was louder this time, but left you just as confused. was it guilt or pity that compelled him to make such a statement? either way, you shook your head. he couldn't be left thinking that way for simply feeling what he felt.

"no, you're not wrong. i was way too forward, and i made you uncomfortable. maybe you didn't have to lay me out like that, but that was a justified response. it's perfectly fine that you don't want me."

"but i do want you."

a puff of air escaped his lips with the words, visible in the frigid night. it dissipated as you turned the words over in your mind. you toyed with your fingers, afraid you'd misheard him. afraid you'd dreamed up the whole thing.

"i do want you. i've wanted you since i met you, the way you throw your head back when you laugh, the way you smile at me when you think i'm not looking, the way you hum along to every song, all of it. i just..."

he took a deep breath, and you could've sworn his hands had a little shake to them.

"it's... crazy. like shit, doll, i've hardly even talked to a girl in seventy years, and there you were lookin' beautiful, and talkin' about kissing me, and i just... didn't know what to do."

you nodded, gathering enough courage to peek up at him. he was watching you wistfully, emotion you'd never seen in him before displayed plainly on his face.

he looked away, though, shaking his head. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have said anything. especially since you have that thing going on with sam now."

you wrinkled your nose. “what thing?”

“i, uh,” he started, clearing his throat, “i saw you guys talking. you looked happy.”

you giggled, smiling for what felt like the first time in forever. "about you, buck. i was worried about you. did you think i was making a move on sam?"

"maybe," he said sheepishly.

“he was helping me, or trying to, because i really messed up. i really do like you, james.”

his face softened at that, eyes widening at your confession. "in that case, i want- if you want to, i mean, i don't want to force anything-"

you reached over and took his hand, relishing the feeling of it slotting perfectly into your grip. "i want to."

"well, c'mere then."

he tucked an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, smiling down at you.

“can i kiss you now?” you breathed.

he answered by pressing his lips to yours, and it felt as though you melted into him for a moment. the colors dancing across your eyes were no longer from the traffic lights, but the dizzying happiness fizzing in your body, like the bubbles in a champagne glass.

he pulled away for a moment, and your heart pounded, afraid you’d messed something else up. but he only smiled at you.

“that felt really good.”

and before you could say “yes, it did,” his hands were cupping your face and he was pressing another gentle kiss to your longing lips.

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

ko-fi ♡

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes blurb #blurb #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #winter soldier #avenger reader #marvel #mai writes

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sandrayofsun · 7 months

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This is The Last One *I promise*

ok I seriously swear this is the last one omg

But we're going to tackle my Favorite moment of this whole episode, and one that all of us SandRay fans have been waiting for!!

Let's finish strong!!

----------------------

I'm living for the candid conversations that are happening on this getaway because seriously they would not have even admitted they found each other attractive in the first three episodes and now they're talking about what would have happened if Ray had died.

I wonder if Sand is sort of beginning to see part of Ray's insecurity towards how people view him in this conversation. Sand doesn't think Ray is necessarily a shitty person (even though he can be a bit of an asshole), so it is interesting to see that Ray thinks his friends wouldn't mourn him because they view him as shitty.

This bit was so cheesy and romantic and I LOVED it. It's important for Sand to realize that Ray has taken off the rose colored glasses for Mew, and is seeing the real world and the realness that is Sand's love for him.

I know a lot of people have been saying that Ray only went after Sand because Mew didn't want him. But I think Ray went after Sand because he realized he was wasting his time on someone he doesn't even feel much for anymore. He couldn't waste another second letting Sand slip through his fingers.

This was just fucking hot I don't even know what else to say.

Ok I'm kidding, I think this scene was beautiful, and it captured the build up of feelings from both of them. Ray wanting someone who can take care of and love him. Sand wanting to be loved and take care of someone.

First and Khaotung have got to be a little bit in love with each other because people do not have this much chemistry, and not have some sort of feelings for each other I mean seriously.

This little cheek kiss moment just blew everything out of the park. It felt very much like a silent promise and reassurance. Ray telling Sand that he is here with him, he's chosen him, and he chose with his heart and not the expectations he used to have.

This whole episode was a 10/10 and I'm so happy they at least had one episode of momentary happiness.

Until next week...

We still have the apartment scene to look forward to, which I'm guessing is tied to whatever Ray's dad asked of Sand (eek) but I still have hope that whatever fight they have, it'll make them stronger and they'll come out together in the end!

If you by any chance read all four posts, I salute you (you're sexy and hot).

If not here they are (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

See you guys next week!!

#only friends the series #only friends #only friends ep9 #sandray #firstkhao #topmew #forcebook #bostonnick #neomark #send help #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #it's hot in here

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austinsmutler · 11 months

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EEK i’m so happy you answered the request so i’m sending another one🤯🤯))

Austin! Elvis going to a press conference and seeing reader who is a famous singer. they grew up in tupelo but instead of going to memphis, reader was big in New York. After finally meeting again, they become as good of friends as they used to be. elvis begins harboring feelings for reader again?

during this press conference, reader gets a lot of “who’s your s/o” or “are you married yet” questions. Elvis can see the visible discomfort and sadness from the reader so he decides to step in. He asks for different questions and holds her hand under the table in a way to comfort them? at the end of the conference, elvis kisses reader and says some cheesy stuff like “for the next conference, you can answer yes to all the boyfriend stuff”

thank you so much EEK

Anon, did we just become best friends? I think we did. Thanks so much for this ask, and keep 'em coming! This one was such a cute idea, and so fun to write.

Thinking About You - Austin!Elvis x Reader - 3,900 Words

What you’ll like: Protective Elvis, 70s Austin!Elvis, BDE Elvis, Elvis stands up for reader, second-chance romance between old friends

Warnings: Period-typical misogyny (in SPADES)

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want!)

The press conference wasn't until tomorrow, but the hotel was already packed. Just take care of business. That was the only thing Elvis could think through all the noise, the shouting reporters and camera flashes.

But he had an evening to prepare for the worst of it.

He’d been first to arrive at the hotel, But he was only one of the big names up for an interview. The other artist and the conference moderator were arriving tomorrow. He didn’t even know who they were- hadn’t looked at the conference program or really anything to do with the press event. He just knew it was about music, that the Colonel was trying to set up a collaboration between Elvis and this other artist. The Colonel said it was vital to make an appearance. So here he was, appearing.

Answering a few questions (“I’m so excited for the conference, we have a real talented musician coming out tonight and I can’t wait to meet ‘em”) he made a few excuses (“My manager’s calling me, sorry honey”) and went up to his hotel room. A penthouse suite that was big enough to feel empty.

Graceland might have been a mansion, but Elvis liked to keep it full of family, friends, and music. This was the worst part of being on the road, Elvis thought as he pulled back the curtain to look at the New York skyline. The city was beautiful, but compact; crowded and cold. The Memphis Mafia were crashing on another floor entirely, exhausted from the day of traveling. This floor was reserved for VIPs only.

Elvis wandered around his suite: a small kitchen area with fully-stocked cupboards catered to his tastes, a large bed with thick covers of purple satin and velvet, gold trimmings on the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked half the city, the black roads dotted with yellow cabs and the gray sky above.

“Although it's always crowded,” Elvis sang to himself softly, smiling down at the streets below, “You still can find some room… For broken-hearted lovers to cry there in their gloom…”

He shrugged the emptiness away, deciding to stroll along the floor instead of hanging there like a ghost in the gloom. The VIP lounge had a fully-staffed bar and a private kitchen, all fully-stocked with anything he could hope to order.

“Whiskey and coke.” Elvis sat at the empty bar, surveying the green velvet booths. From this angle, there was a view of the brownish-grey Hudson river, just beginning to glow orange as the sun set over New York City.

The bartender poured the drink just as the door to the lounge opened. Elvis turned in time to see a woman taking reluctant strides into the empty room, hair perfectly-coiffed, eyes darting around the room, only to freeze on him. His fingers tightened on his glass as he recognised who it was.

You.

** ** ** **

“Elvis Presley,” A smile broke over your face, “It’s been a while, huh?”

Your heart hammered in your chest as Elvis got up, drink forgotten on the bar, and gave you a hug. Almost a decade since you last saw each other, but his arms hadn’t changed a bit.

“Wow, look at you.” Elvis pulled back, looking you up and down. It was hard not to feel self-conscious as he drank you in. You wore your best New-York-casual outfit. It glittered like the city lights with every movement, the egg-yolk orange sunset haloing you and Elvis as everything else seemed to melt away.

You were glad you’d come dressed to impress- granted, that was due to the vultures outside with their cameras. Press conferences weren’t your thing, but your manager had insisted on coming here.

Then you’d seen Elvis’ name on the program, heard about a possible collaboration, and your mind was set.

“You’re not so bad yourself, E.P.” You grinned, using the old nickname everyone had called him in high school. Elvis returned the smile with his now-famous lip curl. He wore a red button-up that rose high on his neck, black flares and shiny boots that added to his already-considerable height.

“C’mon, let me get you a drink.” Elvis ushered you to the bar with one hand on your upper back. A respectful touch, but one that sent electricity sparking up your whole body. You fought it away with a shiver, which Elvis caught. “Are you cold? I can ask them to check the thermostat.”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” You grinned. Protective as ever, after all this time. “I’d ask what you’ve been up to since moving to Memphis, but I think there’s not a soul in America who doesn’t know that.”

He laughed, “You could say I’m a modest success.”

“You must be proud.” You smiled, ordering a gin and tonic. Anything to loosen up under the way he looked at you, blue eyes focused on nothing else.

Elvis shrugged. “I always wanted to make music, and I’ve been doing just that. Rock ‘n Roll, Gospel, Rockabilly, Country. I’ve done a little of everything at this point.” He sipped his drink. “What about you? I heard you were doing well, but I haven’t heard from you since…”

“High school?” You could still remember the last time you’d seen each other: a tearful goodbye as Elvis went on tour and you went to college, certain never to meet again. “Well, you know I was supposed to go to college here, but I actually dropped out. Realized medicine wasn’t for me.”

You smiled at the memories of that simpler time, when you had no idea how the music industry worked. “My first album didn’t do too bad, if I do say so myself. I’m not exactly touring all 50 states, but I do alright for a lil girl from Tupelo.”

“I’ve seen you on magazines. I almost didn’t recognize you at all the first time, when you did that cover for Modern Woman…” He trailed off, slack-jawed.

“Well,” You chuckled, “They slap a lot of makeup on me. I use my pseudonym, and I never talk about my personal life. As far as anyone knows, I was born in New York at the ripe old age of eighteen.”

“I have your album at home.” Elvis murmured, looking down at his drink. Were his cheeks lightly pink, or was that the light? You couldn’t tell for sure. “S’nice. Your voice- I’ve never forgotten it. Always thought that record sounded just like you.”

“Wonder why.” You laughed. “It’s so good to see you again, E.P.”

“You have no idea.” The smile on his face was happy, but not entirely. Sadness echoed in his eyes for a minute- if you didn’t know him so well, you might not have caught it. You pursed your lips but didn’t ask.

Even after years apart, conversation flowed between the two of you all-too-easily. Eventually the two of you moved from the bar into a booth, still sitting side-by-side instead of across from each other. It was as if there were an unspoken agreement between the two of you: no more distance. A decade was more than enough.

“You never told me you wanted to be a singer.” Elvis coked an eyebrow at you. “Any other secrets I should know about?”

You shook your head with a grin. “I didn’t know myself, to be honest. You taught me how to play guitar, and when I moved to New York I had nobody to talk to, so I spent all my time in my dorm, playing until my fingers bled.”

You showed him your calloused fingers, the sure mark of a musician. They matched his perfectly.

“Anyway, one night my roommate pretty much forced me to go out with them to this bar, and they were having an open mic. I didn’t want to do it at first, but my roommate was like ‘You’ll keep me up all night playing, but when you have a real audience you’re suddenly shy? Come on!’ So she shoved me up and I played some Big Mama Thornton. Started with Up Above My Head, then Ball n Chain, Hound Dog... They didn’t let me off the stage till dawn.”

You smiled at the memory. The crowd, the encouragement when all you’d felt before was fear, everything about being a musician pulled you in. Almost everything.

“The rest is history. Thanks for those guitar lessons, by the way.” You nudged him with your elbow. “You could really make a career out of this music thing.”

He laughed. By now the sun had long since set, and Elvis’ face was perfectly framed in the purple neon lights of the lounge, making him look dark and mysterious. Masculine and sexy. You squeezed your thighs together under the table, trying to fight the more inconvenient memories away. That would hurt too much.

The last time Elvis had kissed you was the day he left for tour. He left first, leaving your hometown empty. Letters had hurt too much to write, phone calls became too strained and distant, so you’d agreed to stop. But there were no hard feelings- you’d always understood each other, and that hadn’t changed, even though everything else had.

But here you were. Older, established artists, with separate lives that parallelled perfectly. When Elvis’ hand brushed over yours, you didn’t pull away. He shot you a shy smile- the same he’d had when he asked you out to prom all those years ago. Young, naive, vulnerable. Some things never change.

You stayed in the VIP lounge, talking about life. The music you both enjoyed now, experiences with other celebrities (you’d made an infamous movie with Marlon Brando, leading to a lot of unfounded rumors). Eventually you got to ask how things were back in Memphis. You hadn’t visited in years.

“Well, we’ll have to change that.” Elvis gave you that curled-lip smile, the one that melted every heart in America- but it had touched yours first. A spark of pride flamed in your chest, but you squashed it down.

“Is that an invitation?”

There was his hand again, fingers warm on yours.

“You come to Graceland whenever you feel like it. Just rock up, I don’t mind.” Elvis chuckled. “When they ask, tell security at the gate your name is Blue Suede Shoes. They’ll know you’re alright.”

Your heart fluttered. “Elvis Presley, you can’t just go giving anyone and everyone your secret passwords.”

“You aren’t just anyone.”

You did your best to ignore the gleam in his eye. You’d probably just imagined it anyway. So much had changed- too much- and yet he was still the same man you’d loved all those years ago.

Loved. Suddenly none of those feelings felt past-tense.

“I should go to bed.” You pulled away, ignoring the flash of hurt in his eyes. “You should too, conference starts early tomorrow.”

“I don’t sleep much these days anyway.” Elvis offered a weak smile. “Can I walk you to your door?”

You stood on shaky legs- how many gin and tonics had you ordered?

“If you like.”

He frowned at your cool tone, but nodded. When you stumbled in your heels, he watched as you kicked them off without ceremony, padding along the luxurious, carpeted corridor in bare feet.

“Remember when we’d drive down to the creek, in summer?” He spoke softly, and your pace slowed. “You wore those shorts your Momma hated.”

“You loved ‘em.”

“Wonder what she’d say to those shoes.”

You shared a chuckle- while Elvis’ family maintained traditional Southern values, they also had a rebelliousness your family didn’t understand. Your mother went to special pains to ensure you kept your shoulders covered at all times, never touched makeup or booze, never wore a skirt north of your knees.

The hotel room door loomed over the two of you, ornate and inviting.

“Well, goodnight.” You turned to go, but Elvis’ fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you close. You looked up at his eyes, clear blue and inches from yours. His breath fanned hot across your face. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, tucking your head beneath his chin.

“It’s been good to catch up, darlin’.”

He was still standing there, easygoing smile on his lips, when you locked the hotel door behind you.

** ** ** **

Sleep didn’t come for you that night, and by the time sunlight streamed in through the ornate silk curtains you were kicking yourself for letting Elvis back into your head. The press were ruthless, ready to take any crumb of what you could give them and spin it into a national headline. You needed to choose your words carefully, to be ahead of whatever questions they could ask, but you weren’t.

You put on a white suit with sharp shoulders and golden embroidery down the sleeves. It made you feel like a queen, but it didn’t take away any of the grogginess. You placed dark aviator glasses over your eyes and headed out with a sigh.

“Excuse me?” You manager, Joey, ripped them from your face the minute he saw you. “We want them to see your face, sweetheart.”

They were about to announce names in the next room, the moderator taking initial questions from reporters. Your heart thumped so loud it drowned out every other noise.

“The cameras flash really bright in there. I’ll look worse if I’m constantly blinking the lights out of my eyes.”

“Why do you think people buy your music?” Joey said with an exasperated sigh. “You’ve got a unique sound, sure…”

He gripped your chin and you fought the urge to pull away. “But your face? There’s a reason we call that the moneymaker.”

“Is there a problem here?” Suddenly a large presence was behind you, and Joey released your chin so he could take two steps back. When you turned, Elvis was glowering at the other man.

“No problem!” You squeaked. The situation with your manager was… standard, from what you could tell. Other female singers went through it all the time. “Joey was just giving me a… pep talk, before we get started.”

Elvis quirked an eyebrow, but his shoulders relaxed a little. “You’ll do great. You’re the queen of New York blues.”

Those two sentences filled you with pride, and your heart slowed, just a little. Elvis studied your face like he was trying to read your mind, and it was all you could do not to blush under those blue eyes.

Then someone called his name, and he disappeared through the curtains to greet the crowd. There was only one rule at the press conference: each performer would have the spotlight, on their own, for ten minutes. Elvis’ manager swung it so he was on stage all by himself for the first ten minutes- even if you wanted to steal the spotlight, it would be impossible. Smart.

His solo time was over in a flash though. Your name was called and Joey all-but pushed you out in front of the sharks.

The flashes instantly blinded you, and you almost stumbled on your way to the table, but you sat down without a hitch. Step one, check.

“Howdy.” You smiled into the microphone, prompting another roar from the crowd. Then the questions began.

“When are we going to see another album from the queen of New York Blues?”

“Keep an ear out. My new single will be out next week, and an album not long after.”

“Your last album had a whole lot of love songs, can you tell us what - or who - your inspiration was?”

The question would have made you stutter, but with a glance to the moderator, you knew you were on your own.

Then a warm hand found yours under the table. You could feel the cool metal of his signet rings, and it relaxed you. Elvis.

“Inspiration is a funny thing for any artist.” You managed to keep your voice steady. Almost friendly. “Blues comes from the South: work songs, field songs, church music, folk and pop all coming together. It’s full of pain and love. It just so happens that when I write a song, I draw more from love.”

Your fingers dug into your knees under the table as you realized your mistake. Too specific. It gives them too much of an in.

“So is it safe to say you’re in love?”

“With my music.” You said with a firm smile. “Every Friday I put on my red shoes and dance the blues, gentlemen.”

A chuckle spread through the crowd, but one reporter wasn’t ready to drop it. “Are you currently seeing any men?”

“Yes, a whole lot of them. Right in front of me.” Another laugh from the crowd, Elvis’ hand gave you a reassuring squeeze under the table before withdrawing. When you chanced a glance from the corner of your eye, he was smirking.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Why, are you interested?” Your chuckle was a little high-pitched, forced. You could keep your cool well enough, but this was the part of the job you hated: the scrutiny of everything personal. It wasn’t enough to put your soul into your art, people wanted a piece of everything else too.

“Just interested in the truth.” The reporter smiled, but it was more of a sneer. “Who are you seeing?”

“Nobody.” Eloquent answers hadn’t worked, maybe short ones would.

“Dating around?”

“No.” You shifted in your seat.

“What do you have to say to the rumors about your secret marriage?”

You rolled your eyes. “I starred in one movie with Marlon Brando. As a background character. We never even spoke.”

“Is that a hint of bitterness there?” A laugh- at your expense- broke through the crowd. You forced a smile.

“Well-”

“Could we get some questions about her music, please?” Elvis leaned forward with a pointed gleam in his eyes. “C’mon, this is the queen of New York Blues here, fellas.”

He glared at the moderator, who checked his watch. “Actually, it’s time to open up the floor to questions for both artists. Who would like to begin?”

The next few hours went by in a blaze of questions- mostly for Elvis, but a few about your upcoming album and collaborations. If any reporters asked personal questions, you deflected them- or Elvis glared at the reporter until they decided to change tactic.

By the time the event was finally over, you just wanted to go back up to your hotel room and collapse in bed. Maybe cry. Definitely cry. Something about giving away so much of yourself at once felt like being ripped to shreds, even if it was your job to feed the frenzy.

“What were you thinking?” Joey said as he walked you to the elevator. He put on an insulting falsetto, “‘Oh, I’m not seeing nobody’, ‘No, I don’t date’- what was that? We need the fans to think you’re available, not a nun.”

“Yes sir.” Irritation knit your eyebrows together, and Joey pointed at your face.

“And that. What have I told you about smiling? People want to see you as their happy girlfriend, not their miserable old crone of a wife.”

“I’ll get it right next time, Joey.” Your smile was all teeth. “They seemed excited about my next album.”

“Humph.” He grunted as you reached the elevator, you stepping inside while he hung in the doorway. “I’m going to be taking follow-up questions. I’ll try to sow some actual intrigue around your personal life, see what I can do to salvage this.”

He took your aviators out of his pocket and tossed them at your feet. “You forgot these.”

A growl interrupted the moment before you could think of a reply.

“You gonna get in that thing or what?” A low voice drawled from behind Joey, who turned to see Elvis glowering at him for the second time that day.

“Not at all, Mr Presley. Fantastic job today, by the way.”

“Hmm.” Elvis dismissed the man with a wave of his hand that left no room for discussion.

Once the elevator doors closed, he knelt to pick up your sunglasses. “You drop these?”

“Um. Yeah.” You blinked back tears, pasting on a smile. “Thanks, E.P.”

People want to see their happy girlfriend, not a miserable crone.

Joey was a good manager. He could book you in anywhere- all the bars and clubs and even a few theatres, which was almost unheard of for a Blues artist, much less a female one. But the price you paid for that - aside from 40% of your royalties - was being ground into the dirt after every performance, musical or otherwise. You knew he enjoyed it, got a thrill out of tearing his performers down after seeing them built up. But there was nobody better in the business.

“You could do better than him.” Elvis said as you rode the elevator to the penthouse.

“Who, Joey?”

“I know it’s not my place, but you’d really be better off with a player like Brando.”

“Me and Joey?” You laughed. “We’re not a couple. He’s my manager- just my manager. I wasn’t lying about being single.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, clamping a hand over your face. “But I can’t believe they asked about Brando. When I heard that rumor, I never thought they’d actually say it to my face.”

“Unprepared paps.” Elvis mumbled with a roll of his eyes. “Always ask stupid questions.”

“I hate them.” You spoke without thinking. It felt good. “Every time they ask me anything, it always goes the same way. Who am I dating? What does my non-existent boyfriend think of the album? When am I getting married? If I wanted to answer those questions I’d call my Momma."

Elvis smiled at his shoes, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. The elevator pinged and the doors opened on your floor. You both got out, but didn’t make a move. His room was on the right, yours on the left.

"It’s not like anyone’s interested, anyway.” You'd meant it as a joke, a parting word, but Elvis stopped you before you could turn around.

Before you could open your mouth, his lips were on yours, hands cupping your face gently. Like you were something precious. He was the only man who’d ever touched you so reverently, like he was lucky to be so close to you.

The kiss was soft, but hungry. Before you knew it, Elvis had you backed against the wall, his hands on your hips as he devoured your lips until you had to break apart to breathe.

“Consider me interested.” Elvis breathed, thumb stroking over the small of your back.

“E-” His name turned into a gasp as Elvis’ lips found your neck, finding the sweet spot where your neck met your shoulder, as easily as he had when you were teens in the back of his truck. He remembers everything, doesn’t he?

“Next time they ask,” Elvis kissed just below your ear, “You can answer yes to all those questions."

He pulled back to look in your eyes.

“Please.” He said, even though he hadn’t phrased it as a question.

You nodded, leaning up for another kiss. “I forgot what it’s like.”

He looked at you curiously.

“You. Being close to you. E.P, I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I know it’s only been a day, but you still make me feel… safe.”

His arms tightened around you. “I should’ve called you more, on that first tour. I was an idiot, darlin’. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Kiss me again. I’ll consider it.”

#elvis x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis imagine #elvis imagine #elvis fanfic #protective elvis #protective austin!elvis #70s elvis #fluff

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giggly-squiggily · 3 months

Note

Black clover needs more love🤩 Id love to see Smile: “I didn’t know you were ticklish here!” with lee Noelle and ler Asta and having him discover an odd ticklish spot, it would be so cute🤭

AHHH! *sobs* I love all the Black Clover prompts; it's one of my favorite series of all time aljkrjkearjkeajk My darling Noelle- I've gotcha covered, anon! :3

Smile: "I didn't know you were ticklish here!"

“Eek!”

“Careful!” Asta’s hand reached out instinctively, grasping Noelle’s upper arm as she stumbled. “The path here is pretty rough-what was that?”

Noelle had made a noise of surprise, yes- but there was another when he grabbed her. For a moment, he thought he might have accidentally brushed something he shouldn’t, but his fingers were pointed towards him. The water mage could only freeze, face bright red.

“W-Watch it, Dorksta! And let go of me-hehehe!”

“Oh wow! I didn’t know you were ticklish there!” Asta was smiling, a big cheesy one as he gently pressed into her upper arm once more, making her jump and giggle. “I didn’t know people could be ticklish here!”

“Shuhuuhuht uhuhuhuhp! Gehhheheht ohohohoff me, yoohhoohu jeheheherk!” Noelle tried to pull her arm free, but her footing was far too unsteady on the rough path they walked. “Whahaha! Dohoohohn’t leheheht me gohoohoho!”

“Wasn’t going to. Don’t want you to fall and bust your head open.” Asta smiled as he carefully pulled her along, his hand steady and ever so tickly against her arm as they navigated the path. “Come on- I know the way!”

“Yoohohohour itihihihihikling me on puhuhuhuhurpohohouse!” She accused through her breathless giggles, half of her wanting to shove him away while the other half wanted to lean more into him. Her heart said yes and her nervous system said can’t talk right now, being tickled to tears! “Whahhahahy are yoohohohu squeueueuezing iihihihiht?”

“Hm? Oh, my bad.” Asta lightened his touch, easing some of the tickles as they finally found their footing. “There we are, safe and sound.”

“Ugh, you’re so-!” Noelle was about to say something likely mean, but found herself at a loss of words when his hand slid down to hers, grasping it tightly as he continued walking. “I think the path is fine now..”

“I know.” He didn’t look back, sparing her a witness to her blushing face. His own ears seemed a bit red though.

“Dorksta.” She rolled her eyes, unable to fight the growing smile on her lips.

Send me a candy heart and I'll write a dabble for it!

#Candy Heart Valentine Event #chve2k24 #tickle #tickle dabble #fluff #black clover #astelle #noelle silva #asta #they're dorks in love your honor ajrjkeajkraejr

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arminsumi · 2 months

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ahh bad boy suguru is so cute ahahah

he's my guilty pleasure <3

i love that he's acc a sap even tho he looks like a bad boy 🥹❤️

he loves his girlie & wants to marry her (& would totally love her being a nerd i can see it)

oh he's a secret sap for sure 😏 gets cheesy for valentine's day and showers the reader with gifts and stuff. i feel like he'd drop his big heavy biker jacket on the floor and then cuddle up to watch romance tv with his girl — no shame, just genuinely getting invested in it like "why is the protagonist being an idiot?? that guy is clearly bad news and the blond guy clearly loves her more."

and omg bad boy suguru being rough and tough at first but softening towards you and only you 🥺 eek i kinda wanna write that now omg

#📬.mail

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mistertf2xreaderfluffballcake · 2 years

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How they mercs react to you calling them handsome. Do you know what time it is? It is cheesy writing time!!! I got inspired by @snakess-17 They are also very epic writer :))

Scout

O-Of course I am! (Did s/o really mean it? That was so cute...SCOUT think of a cheesy pick-up line uh of yeah!) He then tells you the most cheesiest pick-up line while his face is bright red.

You bet he will flex about this. FOR A WHOLE MONTH. The others were almost at the limit. Guess what. s/o called me- Oh shut it scout we get it! lover boy. (←engi) YEAH! SHUT IT MAGGOT! (←soldier)

Soildier

THANK YOU CUPCAKE! YOU ARE ALSO THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PERSON ALIVE!!! He will also brag about it. But unlike scout, no one will stop him from doing it. If somebody cuts him off...GO TRANING MAGGOT. COME BACK HERE IF YOU DO 500 PUSH-UPS!! eek.

He will also softly smile when you say that word. It is those rare moments where a soldier's soft side comes out fully instantly. (I mean it always does when he is around you tho)

Pyro

*GAAAAASP* Did s/o seriously say that? Pryo hugs you VERY tightly. Not just a 5-second hug a whole hour hug.

Pyro hugs you much more than usual. Hugs everywhere and anytime. (Pyro hugs you about 3~10 times a day. )

Engineer

AWWWWW Thank you, darling! You are so nice. He is melting. (I`m burnin` up (one of the engi voice lines did you catch that? idk) He will give hundreds of compliments for the next week or so.

If you say that while he talking to someone. He will freeze. Did you just do a cute attack on him!? Critical hit bang!

Heavy (sorry this is short)

He will freeze. Heavy has heard this word being used in romantic movies...*blush* did s/o just... Yup. Heavy is blushing. He rarely blushes. He then gives you about 5 bear hugs for the next few days. S/o is precious. S/o is very cute. Heavy love s/o :)) awwww heavy I love you too.

Demoman

You really *hick* think so? When you noded he legit cried. THIS IS SO SWEET!!! AWW, LOVE COME OVER HERE. GUESS WHAT S/O JUST SAID GUYS!? *SNIFF* He has a bit of body insecurity so having those comforting words come out means the whole world to him. *sniff* He will definitely talk about this with all of his friends. YOU ARE JUST THE SWEETEST HONESTLY!

Sniper

*Windows XP error sound* lol. He will just freeze. Sorry, I Didn't Quite Get That. (Siri reference this is so random. help) If you had described his face it is ''error pls send me help. Cuteness overload'' lol. He will then heat up (like a laptop/computer) Then he will restart. Then he will finally respond. wot.

Medic

He is not sure how to react. Um, thank you s/o! He might not react much but oh boy when he is alone, his head just...KA-BOOM! Did s/o just!? ahhhh they are so sweet! help me. (he will cry about this in bed) For the next few ways, he will have too many checkups for you. Too many. Checkup again medic? Yep, (it is not a checkup it is comforting and hugging each other but anyway.

Spy (tomato time baby~)

...Merde help me. S/o`s kindness and cuteness are killing me (nothing bad with that just in a good way). He will say quick thanks and says he is busy (He is just exploding okay?) He will go on the rooftop then. POOF. His face is bright red, thank god his mask can hide it. *Le Sign* WHY IS S/O IS SO FUCKING DANG CUTE!!! (inside voice) Lord help him, his face is a tomato lmao. He is just so happy! S/o is just so kind. Ugh, I am such a lovesick fool...My lover is waiting for me downstairs I should go see them...My face is red...help. He will then give a million compliments about you too! :)

This was so much fun! All of them are tomatoes~! I-I just kept on laughing when writing scout, solider, and spys part. Expeically soldiers part, gramerly kept on changing it to MORE SOLID and I cant stop laughing, that name fits him. MORE SOLID. But he turns into a liquid when you hug/cuddle him tho. Anyway, let me go back into my cave and eat some chips. Here is a piece of potato chip for you too! Only a piece tho sorry. Just kidding~ Here is a bag of chips (/*'▽')/ *insert bag of potato chip emoji here.*

#tf2 x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 spy x reader

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ask-the-sinclars · 6 months

Note

I don’t say anything for a moment, I look over to the shop for a moment feeling watched.

“No.” I reply in a soft tone to Bo, my brows furrowed slightly.

( eek that probably sounds so cheesy 😭)

Lester comes close to you and offers his hand. It’s dirty and grimy from his line of work. “What can we do for you?”

#lester sinclair #house of wax ask blog #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #slasher ask blog #house of wax (2005)#lester sinclair answers

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atticusredwood · 4 days

Text

Bloodmoon

@forest-city since you seemed to really like the first part..

TW!! Abuse mentioned and slightly shown!

Part 1

Part 2/??

Pretty boy? Really?

Felix tried not to giggle, so casually that was said too, though the shaking of his body’s suppressed amusement caused his ankle to ache. “Ow..”

Atticus looked over at Felix again. “You good?”

“Yeah..it’s just, when I tripped I rolled my ankle..”

“Eek, that sucks, here, make a brace or whatever.” Atticus tossed Felix some medical tape from his satchel.

“Thanks..” Felix said as he caught the roll and started wrapping his foot.

After he was done, he passed Atticus his medical tape back, sat back for another 10-30 minutes before the chase finally came to a close when the officer gave up and the horse got tired.

“Alright, out ya go.” Atticus said as he helped Felix off the wagon.

“Thanks for uh..the show?” Felix said with his signature cheesy smile, Atticus was unamused.

“Go home, boy.” Atticus said with anger as he walked away, towards Flushing.

- Later that night -

“It ain’t the right shade, I’m tellin’ y-” Atticus attempted to speak when Victoria, his girlfriend, slapped him for talking back. She was trying to cover a bruise she made.

“I don’t care if it’s the right shade or not! Anyone finds out you ain’t gettin’ in this many fights, I’m screwed.” She scowled.

“Maybe ya could t-try not hittin’ me?” Atticus suggested shakily, knowing that wasn’t gonna end well. She grabbed his scarf and tugged on it.

“Maybe you should try being obedient. Never understood why newsboys are always so damn bold..” She growled and released the soft fabric. Atticus nodded frantically. “Just a friendly reminder, if you ever try to tell. Who’s gonna believe that the strong boy from the streets is getting abused by a weak girl like me? No one, now behave so I can hide your bruise before you go back to the lodge.”

One day I’ll be outta here and all ripe again..

Atticus sighed as Victoria put the wrong shade of foundation on his bruise. He later color corrected it. She was right, of course, no one would believe him.

- The next day -

Atticus was bringing the Queens newsies, a rather mixed group of people, culture, race, gender, etc, to the paper distribution wagon.

Felix had finally finished his plan as to how he was gonna runaway, though he noticed it would certainly be helpful to have a job so when he left he’d have a chance at survival.

Atticus was beyond annoyed when he saw a new face in the crowd of Flushing boys. The boys were whispering.

When Felix walked up to Atticus, now looking down at him for the first time, a bit shocked at the height difference, one of the Flushing boys, Habit, spoke up.

“That there’s the Angel of Death, but we call ‘in Pink-” Habit got cut off by Felix speaking to Atticus.

“Well hello again, friend.” Felix said warmly, Atticus but his tongue.

“Hi. Why are ya here?” Atticus said with more condescension than wanted.

“Would seein’ you again be a good enough excuse?” Felix said, Atticus rolled his eyes, in a bad mood, and ‘very disgusted’ at the thought of a boy wanting to see him.

“No, you need a job or sum’?” Atticus said with haste.

“Yeah..how does this work?” Felix asked.

“You buy a set amount of papes, and if ya don’t sell ‘em all, that’s money outta your pocket, got it?” Atticus said, a bit pleased someone would choose this job of all jobs.

“I think so. No buy backs?” Felix asked cautiously.

“Yes. See? You already understandin’ it, now just sell or whatever, don’t go ta Brooklyn.” Atticus warned. “And if ya do, don’t mention me by name.”

Felix nodded, suddenly very happy to have been accepted into a group and feeling as though he’d been told a top secret.

- Later in the afternoon -

“Yo, boss, how’s come vampy ovah there knew ya?” Habit asked as he caught up to Atticus, who was having a slow day.

“I met him last night when I slapped a cop.” Atticus sighed.

“You gotta start learnin’ ta control ya anger..” Habit suggested gently.

“I know, I know..I’m tryin’, but I don’t wanna lose my temper. Just control it.” Atticus said.

“Now I think that’s somethin’ that’ll put the whole world at peace!” Habit joked as he nudged Atticus’ shoulder, who laughed and shoved him back.

#newsies #livesies #atticus #atticus redwood #Atticus newsies #felix #felix saboth #felix newsies #queens newsies #queens #flushing newsies #flushing #whitecrow ship

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izukunii · 1 year

Text

EVERY TIME YOU EAT A FRUIT FOR THE FIRST TIME THAT YEAR YOU NEED TO MAKE A WISH

i wrote this on mobile, but i don’t think it’s long enough for a ‘keep reading’ anyway…

featuring: oikawa tooru x reader

contains: blueberries. and there’s a dog.

summary: when oikawa comes home, you always wear a sweeter smile

warnings: oikawa is much wiser than canon, but he still cheesy, could have pregnancy mentions if you squint and you really want it that bad

for the first time since oikawa was away, sleep had overcome you.

and the shining glares of rockets ringing in the new year, the muffled cheers from the floors beneath your penthouse, not even the chords of auld lang syne could wake you.

not the clang of a ring weighed down with many a souvenir as it fell to the floor from a rush of excitement, nor the thunderous shucking of shoes and the screech of them sliding across tile. a thump on the wall right beside the doorway.

it was as if a warm wave washed over you then, very warm, and almost wet… damp!

you would have ejected yourself off the bed in fright, if not for the dog zooming across your legs, and all the weight of your husband draped across your body.

you blinked your eyes open as he blinked his shut, his hair falling across your forehead. all these years. you’d never seen this face, the face he makes right before he kisses you!

and he kisses you before your voice can awake from its rest. only for her to return as he plucks apart your lips.

“you’re home?”

“i think i made it…” he mumbles more to himself, and sways above you, rubbing his cheeks into the sweet and soft touch of your palms. “did i make it?”

“i love you,” you tell him. of course you wonder what he means, but the wonder in his sudden arrival surpasses all other emotions.

his query becomes forgotten and he smiles. and his eyes light up. “i love you!”

he all but throws himself forward, head bumping awkwardly along your chest but it could never matter to him, not when he’s come home to you. your hands fall to his hair and for a moment or two, he stills, until he’s steadied his breathing to your own. and then he comes back up with another grin, a grin brighter than the stars that are bursting beside your windows.

“brought you something,” he tells you, his hand fumbling around at your waists, pawing at his pockets.

“here? tooru, the dog!”

“they’re just blueberries!” he reassures as he holds them between you.

as tooru lifts himself to straddle your waist, the light of a thousands suns burning through the dark wash across his figure, and though a bit more weary, maybe heavier or maybe weaker, he looks just as ethereal as the day you found each other.

“here. i brought them from… oh! the name of the state is so odd i can’t—! never mind that! i brought you these, us these. they’re sweet blueberries for our wish!”

he didn’t make it in time for midnight, you silently answer his question. but he made it in time nonetheless. for now it’s the new year, and he’s always believed that at the first time you eat a fruit that year, you have to make a wish. and so you believe it too.

and so it was.

what better day to pick than new year’s day?

“wish…” you muse. and then you smile. and your eyes light up.

“the first fruit of the new year!” he hollers, hoisting the little plastic basket to the sky. a few of them rain down onto the blanket, and the dog makes a wish, or two, with them straight away.

you ghost your hands up his thighs as a guide so you can sit up and meet him. you rest your head against his chest as he wiggles about, sure to keep his weight off your tummy.

before the dog can make any more wishes on your blueberries, oikawa gathers up a few in his fist.

“open.” he whispers to you.

but three at once! you nearly choke, and the two that you spit out become two more wishes of the dog.

you make your wish.

“eek! sorry, love! they were all smushed in my pocket so the goop’s made them slippery—”

“tooru.” you swallow. “what did you wish for?”

“more blueberries,” he sighs happily. “blueberries. with you. every year. forever.”

you smile. your eyes light up. “me too.”

#happy new year!#oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #haikyuu fluff #my work #my writing

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freak-vy · 10 months

Note

Eek thank you so much! My favorite scenario is of Ed and En getting married and you brought it to life perfectly!

Tyty! I'm glad you liked it :D I was worried I made it too cheesy lol

#ask response

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erintoknow · 1 year

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i feel like the amount of time i play games has fucking nosedived ever since I got into a relationship

this is not a complaint mind you!!! spending time with my partner vs playing a video game is a no-brainer choice

still, i’ve managed to play a few new games this year...

I really liked The Gray Painter by William Loman when I played it, but my partner ran into some transphoc stuff after trying it out on my rec which kind of makes me feel awful about the whole matter since i hadn’t caught that beforehand.

The Passenger by J. Rolón felt a little cumbersome to me in how it handled trans identity but hey, it’s cool to have that at all still in my book and the rest of the game is a trip. I still need to finish it so hopefully it sticks the landing.

I Was A Teenage Exocolonist by Northway Games is a very cheesy title for what was an extremely fun little lifesim game about eeking out survival on an alien planet. It absolutely doesn’t shy away from the whole question of ‘colonization’ either. I had a blast playing the game and came away wishing there was more.

Aaaand, then there’s been Ixion. You’re the faceless administrator managing a torus space-station that can travel faster then light and may or may not have blown up the moon on it’s first test flight, leaving you to pick up the pieces and shepard the few remainders of humanity to a new home. The story is a mess and I feel like it’s try to to do too much – I don’t care for the dystopic company Musk/Jobs wannabe who’s supposed to be your boss (at least before you blow up the moon) or the entire vibe of the station’s story flavoring. But I found the actual building management and progression extremely addicting so who can say what’s good and what’s bad really

#games #bideo james #2022

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hesbambi · 3 years

Text

svt as your boyfriend

requested ; requests closed

warnings ( fluff, alcohol consumption & suggestiveness )

☆ ⌒ ヽjeon wonwoo

as your boyfriend

before you started dating, you definitely though he hated your guts. would never talk to you and if he did his tone would be monotone and fake. at least that’s what you thought

wonwoo was only talking like that because he was shitting his pants trying not to mess up in front of you

such a nerd but you love him <3

he loves being his natural habitat; internet cafe, with his favorite girl

no literally, if he’s not with you he’s probably in there

loves having you on his lap while he teaches you how to play one of his games, answers any questions you have with so much passion

though sometimes you undeniably can’t listen to him while he’s speaking behind you, arms caging you in his lap,,, eek the butterflies

& if you think wonwoo doesn’t notice, you are very wrong

notices anything and everything about you, the way you get excited for certain things, the face you make when something doesn’t taste quite right or the way your body responds to him

he constantly makes you think you got away with something embarrassing and than boom out of no where, a few days after the incident, he brings it up to tease you

such a kind bf tho, will stop you in the middle of something to fix your hair, tie your shoes or wipe something off your lips

always wants you on his lap, ALWAYS,, kid you not once you get comfortable showing pda around the members, holy shit he will make his lap your throne (cheesy yes i know)

arguments are not too common with you both, he’s pretty calm and mature, though once he starts raising his voice and getting heated it’s probably for a good reason,,, whew

always knows how to apologize and make it up to you, his precious butterfly :)

nicknames

butterfly / 나비의 : loves calling his little butterfly no matter how tall or short you are. he always jokes you’re constantly moving like a butterfly around him, since he’s pretty calm and all.

darling / 자기 : might be a bit of a surprise but wonwoo is a bit old-fashioned, likes calling you little darling or just darling overall, very cute

timestamp [ 6:34 pm ] :

“did you know that your pecks are like one of the seven world wonders?”

you slurred, standing next to your boyfriend, wonwoo. slightly tipsy and flirty, who wouldn’t be slightly turned on from seeing their sexy boyfriend be good with his hands and treat you like a princess?

you had promised wonwoo that during the fall, you’ll try to visit the infamous internet cafe he always spoke fondly of. it was nice, seeing him relax and have fun with his friends. and you had kept your promise, visiting the cafe and staying there for quite some time. you finally had understood what the deal was.

sitting on comfy chairs, playing games with friends online and getting to order delicious food without having to do much— you truly understood why wonwoo loved it. time went by though and you got bored. alcohol being the best option to cure your boredom.

now you stand, next to your boyfriend, slightly tipsy and making heart eyes at him. (understandably so) you couldn’t even be mad at him for spending so much time on the computers because he still treated you like a porcelain doll; petting your hair, feeding you some of his food and teaching you how to play games you didn’t understand.

wonwoo was used to your drunken comments; finding humor on how your cheeks get hot and you start getting nervous after saying your thoughts.

he pets your hair and brings your face closer to his, softly gripping your cheeks into one of his hands. thinking he was going to kiss you as he brought hip lips closer to yours, he moves his mouth next to your ear.

“you seriously need some sleep y/n”