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prettyfastcars · 4 months

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He has me by my heart | Mob!Lando x Reader

Summary: Lando is bad for you. You know that, countless people have told you this. But no matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him.

Themes: mob!lando, daddy kink, smut, explicit language, possessive!lando,

a/n: you know those videos of Lando being escorted by police in italy yeahhhh

You saw it on the news.

Then again, everyone did. Ever since he was arrested a few weeks ago, people tuned in any moment they could to follow his story. He was well-known, filthy rich, and dangerous. He went against the law a lot. But somehow there was never enough evidence against him that incriminated him.

Lando had too many loyal servants who were willing to lay down their lives in order to keep him away from being locked up in prison. But a few weeks ago, a couple days after you both broke up after a huge fight, he was arrested.

Apparently he got into a rather violent fight at some exclusive club. Videos of it circulated around everywhere. And it was the most convicting evidence that had ever surfaced regarding him so the authorities used that to at least lock him up for a little time while they tried to dig up more stuff about him.

However, that ended up not happening. Lando’s people kept everything clean. Every dirty work happened in the dark with no witnesses. Every skeleton was carefully placed in impregnable closets. So the authorities had no choice but to release him.

The day of his release, you watched him on TV. How he gloated as the authorities let him go. How he enjoyed the many cameras filming him, taking pictures of him which would later surely spark many conversations in the media. He had always liked the attention.

Even through the screen you could see it on his face. The arrogance, the smirks, the determined, proud look in his eyes like he was an unchallengeable monarch. He walked to his car, grinning like a king. He was, in many ways. A king in the darker side of life.

Just then, your phone rang. It was an unknown number. You answered it with your heart racing, part of you already knew who was calling.

“Hello?” You tried your hardest to sound as unbothered as possible.

He chuckled from the other side of the call. “Hey princess, missed me?”

You exhaled shakily, “Lando.”

He scoffed, “You sound a little out of breath there, baby. Have you been watching me on TV?” He laughed. “You knew they could never keep me locked up for long, didn’t you princess? We talked about this, remember?”

Oh. So he was doing the thing where he pretended that you two hadn’t had a big fight, said cruel things to each other and decided to go your separate ways. Yet again.

“Why are you calling me?” You said, “We broke up, remember?”

He sighed like he was annoyed, “Come on, princess. You know that wasn’t real, right?” He argued. “We were both tired and angry, and we didn’t mean it.” He didn’t even wait for you to respond as he said, “I’m coming over later, and then we’ll talk. Alright, princess? I can’t wait to see you.”

With that he ended the call. And you were standing there in the middle of your apartment feeling confused. As always.

When he comes over later, you thought, you’d set everything straight and break up with him for good this time.

—

Hours passed.

You realised you shouldn’t just sit and wait for him. But you were anxious so you couldn’t do anything else other than wait.

Later in the evening, three knocks at your door signalled that he was here. You stood there for a short while, fresh out of the shower and still in your fluffy robe as you stared at the door. You decided you were going to keep this short.

He’d walk in, you’d talk, and then you’d ask him to leave. Right? Right.

But then you opened the door. And there he was, in a fresh suit. His hair was a fluffy, curly mess. He smelt amazing. And that soft, puppy dog look in his blue-green eyes.

“Hi princess,” He said, already walking in and shutting the door behind him, “I’ve missed you.”

Your walls came crashing down instantly. You had your arms around him before you even realised it. Your face pushed into the crook of his neck as you shed a few tears and inhaled his familiar scent. Body wash and cologne.

“I was so scared I would never see you again.” You found yourself mumbling against his skin as he backed you into the closest wall.

He laughed as you pulled away to wipe your tears, “Babygirl,” He cooed, “You know that would never happen.” He cupped your teary face in his large hands and smiled at you. “Were you worried for me? Hmm?”

You nodded. He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you. Soft lips against yours, you melted into him. Your back against the wall, your fingers tangled in his hair while he moaned shamelessly into the kiss… playfully biting your lips.

“I’ve missed you so much, princess.” His hands wandered, undoing the knot at the front of your robe. He let out a strained groan when he finally felt your warm skin. He whispered between messy, hungry kisses, “Daddy missed you so much.”

He pulled away to look at you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his lips were now fuller. Fuck, he was your weakness.

“Missed this mouth,” He whispered while tracing your lips with the tip of his finger. His mere touch was driving you insane. So much so that you dropped down to your knees even before he asked you to.

Lando looked down at you with pride in his eyes and a devilishly handsome smirk on his face. “That’s my good girl,” He said breathlessly, caressing your cheek gently as he watched you undo his zipper and pull down his briefs.

His cock stood proud and tall in front of you. Your mouth watered shamelessly at the sight of it. Thick and big, you realised you’d missed him just as much. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his length and you placed the tip against your lips, kissing it and feeling the pre cum coating your lips.

Lando hissed in pleasure as you pushed him into your mouth, taking in the tip and swirling your tongue around him.

“I missed your fucking mouth, babygirl…”

He whispered your name under his breath, his hand holding your head and guiding you up and down his cock. His taste drove you crazy. As did the sounds which left his mouth.

You intended on making him come hard and fast.

“Fuck…,” He moaned again, right before coming undone all over your tongue. “You did so good, princess.”

You looked up at him, still kneeling on the cold floor. You’d missed this too.

“Stand up,” He ordered. And when you did, he leaned in to kiss you again. Rougher this time, more demanding as he pulled you away from the wall and guided you over to your living room. He grabbed your face gently by the chin and said, “Can you go make daddy a drink, princess?”

You nodded immediately. Lando smiled, kissing you briefly on the lips before smacking you gently on the butt as you walked over to the mini bar to make him a drink. You watched him the whole time you poured his whiskey in a glass.

You watched how he got rid of his suit jacket, unbuttoned his white shirt and plopped down on the couch. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. He looked like he was at peace. So much so that you almost hesitated before you gently touched his face to get his attention.

Lando smiled at you as he took the glass from you first, then pulled you onto his lap. Palms gently caressing his smooth chest, you admired your man. His beard seemed coarse you realised as you stroked his cheek. You wondered whether it would feel rougher in between your thighs.

Judging by the smirk on his face, Lando thought of the same thing as he sipped on his drink. And his hooded eyes silently promised you ‘later’. His free hand rubbed up and down your exposed thigh, until he reached in between your legs.

He shamelessly watched how his fingers softly rubbed your throbbing clit. You whimpered softly, grinding against his hand on his lap.

“Who took care of you while I was away?” He asked.

You knew what he meant. Jealous, territorial, over protective man that he was.

“No one,” You answered, whining as he slid a finger inside you.

He swallowed all of the whiskey and leaned in to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, and all while slowly fingerfucking you he whispered along your collar bones, “If I find out someone touched you while I was gone I’m gonna do terrible,” He licked and bit your skin mid-sentence, “horrible things to them.” He left marks on your skin, marking his territory. “And I’ll make you watch.”

You couldn’t help the unexpected giggle that escaped your lips. “No one touched me,” You assured him. “I took care of myself.” You added.

Lando pulled away from your skin smirking like the handsome devil he was. “Yeah?” He insisted, “Show me how.”

You gave him a shy smile.

“Come on,” He said. “Show me how you touched yourself while I was away.”

So you gave him a little show. Still on his lap as you touched yourself, like you did almost every night when he was gone. Even when you were angry at him, nothing else got you off like the memories of the moments you both spent under the covers.

Lando leaned back for a minute, his hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs while he carefully followed your finger as it dipped in and out of your wet hole. His eyebrows furrowed everytime you moaned or let out a wanton gasp.

He grabbed your thighs tightly each time he had to hold back from shoving your hands away to touch you. His shameless stare urged you to keep going. Lando was almost just as breathless as you were when you brought yourself to the edge, slowing down and not wanting to come just yet.

“Please…” You murmured, removing your hand away and looking into his dangerously pretty eyes. “Please,” You begged again

He looked up at you and smirked. He knew what you wanted. You wanted him to make you come. His smug grin widened before he taunted, “Aww what is it, princess? Your fingers don’t feel as good as daddy’s?” He cooed, “Hmm? You want daddy to make you come, don’t you?”

You nodded quickly. Lando just smirked and shook his head. Then before you knew it, you were being pushed down onto the couch. You laid on your back while he hovered above you. You could feel the metal chain around his neck just barely brushing against your chest.

“It’s okay, babygirl.” He whispered, his face inches above yours. “Daddy’s here now.” He said before leaning in to kiss your lips. His tongue gently stroking your lower lip, then his mouth trailed downwards, kissing your neck, your collar bones down to your breasts, licking and kissing and leaving behind his marks on your skin.

Your body felt hot. Burning under him as he took his time and kissed every inch of your skin. “Missed you,” he whispered as he pressed kisses down your chest.

Within seconds his fingers found their way in between your legs again, carefully parting your wet folds before slipping inside you.

He asked, “Do your fingers feel this good, princess?” Lando leaned in again, and kissed along your jaw while his fingers stroked you gently. “I bet they don’t.”

You whined and squirmed and you wanted more. You threw your head back and whined loudly, you felt your walls clench around his fingers.

He smirked, feeling it too. “Oh? You wanna cum, is that it?” he leaned in closer, whispering against your mouth, “You want it so bad, don’t you princess?” he teased, chuckling darkly.

You moaned, and whined and tried your hardest to keep quiet but you ended up being loud anyways. His touch, his stare, his words… “Look at you,” he whispered, kissing and biting down on your skin occasionally as his fingers took you higher. “So perfect for daddy.”

He bit down on your neck as you squirmed, moaning shamelessly.

“Come for me, babygirl.”

You did. Welcoming the sweet pressure in between your legs and you came with a loud cry all over his fingers, coating them with your arousal and making him hiss and swear at the sight of you so beautifully dishevelled.

He had missed this indeed.

“You’re all mine,” Lando said.

You were still recovering from your previous orgasm that you didn’t realise his mouth was on you again, the lower half of his face completely submerged in between your legs, which were on each of his shoulders as his tongue tasting you shamelessly, eagerly.

“Fuck,” He moaned against your wetness. The sound of it making you shiver.

His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your sensitive clit mercilessly. Your hands immediately gripped his messy, curly hair and tugged gently at his roots.

“You taste so good, princess.”

You whimpered under his touch, feeling his faintly rough stubble rubbing against your soft skin. It burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. His mouth felt good.

“Fuck… Lando,” You moaned out loud as your back arched off the couch for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you.

“You’re gonna cum for me, is that it, hmm?” He whispered and got back to teasing your clit with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste.

“Please, please….” You murmured. He chuckled, his warm breath fanning your wet folds.

“Come on, ask nicely.” He whispered, biting down on your hip bone before kissing his way back to your clit.

“Please daddy,” You whined, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Please, can I come?”

His smirk meant that he was satisfied. “Of course you can, princess.” He murmured. “Come all over daddy’s tongue.”

Lando got back to eating you out like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. The pressure in between your legs was building up nicely. So with a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and came all over his face.

The waves of pleasure which washed over you were so intense that you teared up as you came, grinding your hips against his waiting mouth. And Lando lapped up whatever you gave him. He couldn’t get enough.

When he finally pulled away to let you breath for a moment, he kissed your thighs, admiring the pretty mess that you were.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, princess,” he whispered, looking down at you. “All mine.” He had that feral look in his eyes. Shameless, and raw. Passionate, and unrestrained. He wanted you and he wasn’t hiding it. “Get on your hands and knees.” He ordered.

You did as he asked. You knelt on the couch, holding onto the back while he stood behind you surely admiring your ass as your back faced him.

Lando trailed a finger lazily up your spine before sliding his fingers around your neck. He gripped your throat gently, and tightened his grip just enough so he got your full attention. His lips hovered over the side of your throat and his other hand reached around and toyed with your clit, his fingers making you tremble.

You could feel his erection pressing against your butt. And your heart raced in anticipation.

“Daddy missed this pussy, princess.” He whispered into your ear, his fingers teasing your clit until you were embarrassingly wet for him. “I know you missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you? Hmm?”

You whined in response as his tongue licked along your neck.

His hand gripped your throat, eliciting a loud moan out of you. “Answer me, babygirl.” He said. “Use your words and tell daddy you want his cock.”

His fingers left your clit as he undid his trousers again, grabbed you by the hips and aligned his cock to your entrance. Pushing against it just enough to make you lose your mind but not enough.

Damn him. He knew just what to do. How to play you to get you to do exactly what he wanted. You pushed back against him, desperately craving friction, as you whimpered, “Please daddy, I want your cock. Please…”

He chuckled. “There’s my good girl.” He praised and gripped the sides of your hips tighter. He pushed into you with ease, earning a sinful moan out of you.

Lando groaned as he filled you up entirely, your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he buried his cock into you. Your knuckles gripped the back of the couch tightly as you felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time, given you were already so sensitive and sore from before.

You were barely able to think straight. You’d missed him. You’d missed this way too much. Having him right now gave you a high you did not quite comprehend but you were grateful for it.

“So fucking good… princess…” Lando spoke in a haze, and you barely heard him as the only thing you focused on was how good he felt, sliding in and out of you. His cock stretching you out each time he fit it snugly inside you.

He felt it too. He relished the sounds your bodies made together. The careless moans he earned out of you, how wet and ready you were for him. How perfectly you clenched around his cock. Your soft, often loud, whimpers and his groans of pleasure.

“I dreamt of this perfect, warm pussy the whole time I was locked up in there, you know that, princess?” Lando pounded into you like his life depended on it. Stretching you out and filling you up each time he rammed his cock into your entrance.

You could feel the soreness his touch would leave behind, and you didn’t care. But fuck… his dirty mouth only made him hotter.

“The only that kept me going was knowing that I’d come home to you and fuck you like this,” He whispered, and you felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling your orgasm so close that you almost shed tears again.

Lando kept mumbling in the throes of pleasure, “Like you were made for me, for this cock…” He trailed off, moaning in that boyish way that only made you want to come harder. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, babygirl? Hmm?”

Right there… you were tight on the edge, ready to let go…

But just as you were, he pulled out and flipped you around. You were on your back again, looking up at him. His roughness only turning you on even more.

He smirked when he saw that look of uncontained desire on your face. “Not so easily, princess.” He chuckled. “Daddy spent all this time away from you. So it’s only fair that now you beg for my cock.” He parted your legs, and settled in between them again, his cock slipping inside you once again. “Beg for me.”

When he saw that you didn’t, his fingers wrapped around your throat once more. “I said,” he growled, “beg.”

Your lips parted as you gasped, giving in. You’d do anything for him you realised.

“Daddy please… please make me cum…” you whined, “I missed you so much, I need you-,” you cut yourself off, moaning wantonly as he began fucking you hard and fast again.

He grunted and moaned shamelessly right in your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace. He pounded into you incessantly.

You stared into his eyes, tears escaping your eyes, lips swollen and bruised, neck littered with his bite marks, and your eyes just as wild and passionate as his. His messy hair, that dangerous way of his, his reckless nature, that annoying arrogance, his pride was his fatal flaw and yet… Oh fuck you loved him.

Lando smirked, leaning in to whisper against your mouth, “Daddy loves you more, princess.”

Well, guess you said it out loud then.

“You belong to me, don’t you? Hmm?”

“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, daddy can I-”

The pleasure was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came all around his cock, moaning and squirming. Your fingers scratching his neck, your arms holding him tight like he was your lifeline. He was, in more ways than one.

Lando moaned out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you, filling you up again. “Fuck,” He groaned, his voice a little hoarser. “Fuck, princess.” He sighed, putting his whole body weight onto you for a moment. He nuzzled your neck and left soft kisses along your skin.

You let him rest for a moment, mindlessly playing with his hair. You almost laughed thinking about how your initial plan was to kick him out of your life, forever. But deep down you knew, you could never get rid of Lando.

No matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris #lando norris x you #mob!lando #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 au

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fyodor-s-rat · 7 months

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BUNGOU STRAY DOGS - NSFW headcanons

ft.: Dazai, Edgar, Fyodor, Nikolai

tw.: nsfw content

Dazai

he has many experiences

and it's canon that he's probably really good in bed

he is constantly horny, so he loves quickies

he would do it literally ANYWHERE (even ADA's office

he's extremely touchy

he loves being dominated as much as he loves to dominate

moans like a whore

LOVES teasing you

constantly dirty-talks

has really skilled fingers

after sex, he's very clingy

and although he's not good with aftercare, he'll cuddle with you

Edgar

he is very shy and awkward.

he's either a virgin or he has like one experience, and it was a bad one

he's anxious and scared that he won't be able to satisfy you

so you HAVE to praise him

he reads smut tho, so he learns quite quickly lol

he is VERY sensitive

even though he tries to suppress his moans, he just CAN'T.

he is above average and is aware of that, so he always goes slow on you

no but seriously, he's SO GENTLE

treats you like a queen

definitely prefers to be a bottom; he feels more comfortable

his aftercare is the best

he constantly makes sure you're alright, if you need anything, etc.

will run you a bath, make something to eat, or read you one of his books

generally the sweetest 💞

Fyodor

just for starters - he doesn't have high libido

he just doesn't need sex; he finds it kind of useless

HOVEWER, even he has to release the stress somehow

when you actually do it, it's long and very passionate

he's a virgin, but you wouldn't even know since he's a quick learner

isn't loud, but whimpers sometimes

definitely prefers to be the dominant one

he is not into dirty talk and will NOT degrade you (this is a popular hc for fyodor, but i honestly can't see him degrading his partner)

would NOT do it in public

his legs start shaking when he's about cums (it's so beautiful to see him like this)

he doesn't need aftercare, it's pointless to him

but he's aware of your vulnerable state, so he will make you at least some tea, for example

he doesn't really like cuddling, i'm sorry, he likes his personal space

but if you hug him first, he will let you

he secretly enjoys your warmth since he's always cold

Nikolai

is very goofy during the act

making silly jokes and stuff

he's definitely VERY kinky

he enjoys being dominant as much as being submisive

although when you two are done, he softens and lets himself be vulnerable

he is big and he's aware of that.

he also has skilled, large hands

is not opposed to quickies, but will much rather prefer to take time with you

VERY loud, moans and whimpers like a slut, he got no shame

he wants you to be loud too though, to let him know how good he's doing

if you're trying to stay quiet, he gets annoyed and his thrusts become rougher

however, like i said, he is very soft and affectionate after sex

he lets his vulnerable side take over, and he becomes clingy af

he just loves to lay in bed with you in his arms, not saying a thing.

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cassandraclare · 2 months

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*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.

First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.

TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.

I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.

I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)

I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.

I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.

I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.

(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)

#the wicked powers

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

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party on you (explicit)

genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT with an extremely small side of fluff lol

pairing: hoseok x reader

summary: the only thing stronger than your social anxiety is your big dumb crush on hoseok - and you're certainly not expecting it when he tells you the real reason he threw this album release party.

word count: 9.8k

contains: explicit sexual content aka PORN !!!! idol-verse, literally takes place at the JITB album release party, friends to lovers, erotic hand holding, they're both cute and dumb, a studio hookup 👀 dirty talk, thigh riding, cunnilingus, a single pussy slap lol, taint touching (?), HOBI EATS ASS, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, throat fucking, reader gets a facial, and a lil bit of cum eating, it's cute 😌

A/N: so, hi, i went to hobipalooza lmao. this is actually lowkey a songfic ??? charli xcx was one of the earlier acts on hobi's stage and. my god. seeing her live was a religious experience, and when she performed party 4 u i was like hnnnhghg this should be a fic. and now it is !!!! and i hope u enjoy 🥺🥺 i tried some new stuff in here, both soft and freaky lmao so i'm nervy to share!!! as always your support and feedback means the world to meeeee ok ilysomuch bye~

read on AO3 !

~*~

You collapse back against the cushions of your couch with a soft whine of distress.

The whole thing is really so ridiculous. You told yourself when this started that you could be chill about it. People get crushes every day. It doesn’t have to be a huge fucking deal. You’re a sane, rational adult, perfectly capable of admiring a man quietly from afar while doing your best to be a good friend to him.

And, yes, maybe also obsessing a little too much over what to wear when you hang out, and what to post on Instagram in case he might see it, and dear god, how long his hair is getting. All normal crush things.

But now, as you press your phone to your chest with both hands and sigh forlornly, you wonder if it might actually be possible to yearn yourself to death. To like somebody so much that your heart just fucking explodes. If anyone could be capable of inciting spontaneous combustion, it is absolutely Jung Hoseok.

And he wants you to come to his big fancy party– has specifically sent a day-of reminder text, like you didn’t already receive a formal invitation weeks ago.

You purse your lips, fighting to keep a smile off your face despite being alone in your apartment where no one can perceive you. Hoseok is always so good at keeping in touch, even when he’s in an insanely busy season of his life. You can picture him now, probably bustling around his place in a robe, getting ready while simultaneously sending everyone their own personalized message.

Everyone– when you last chatted about the party, he rattled off enough of the guest list for you to know that easily half the industry will be there tonight. And even Lizzo has gushed about how great of a texter he is. You try to ease yourself off the ledge with the comforting thought that this has to be just one courtesy text of dozens, his pretty painted thumbnails working overtime to send gratuitous emojis out to every idol in the city.

And somehow also to you. Because your big fat crush made you stupid enough to say yes to what is arguably your worst nightmare: A party full of cool famous people, where you will know no one except the guest of honor.

Skipping the party is not an option becomes your internal refrain as the hours tick by. You have to remind yourself of this even more emphatically when you wind up on the floor of your bedroom, having tried on every article of clothing in your closet and having decisively hated it all.

Skipping the party is not an option, you think again, grabbing your phone to check the clock. Your heart sinks when you realize how much time you’ve wasted being an anxious wreck– you had planned to be ready to leave five minutes ago, not laying half-naked on the floor, hair and makeup still undone.

But skipping the party is not an option. A pre-party cry, however, might be on the table.

Pushing yourself up to sit on your heels, you force the tears back while you aimlessly sort through a pile of clothes. You’re barely looking at what’s in front of you, but you pause to do a double-take as your hand passes over a particularly enjoyable texture.

When you manage to extract the item, you realize it’s a dress you’d forgotten about entirely– something a friend made you buy a lifetime ago that you’ve never worn because you’ve always been uncomfortable with how short it is. But it’s smooth baby pink satin, and as different from your usual as it may be, you recall not being mad about the way it stuck to your curves like water.

Fuck it. You’re already late, and if there’s ever a party where you can take a fashion risk, it’s one thrown by Hoseok. You can only imagine what he might have on tonight; it honestly wouldn’t surprise you if he showed up in the same fucking dress.

The thought of seeing him is enough to make your heart leap in your chest, and you do your best to speed through your usual makeup and hair routine despite the way your hands are starting to tremble. By the time you grab your purse and make it out the door, you’re thirty minutes late. That thirty minutes quickly stretches into a full hour before you’re stepping off the elevator onto the 19th floor of HYBE headquarters, feeling like an asshole.

Gorgeous idols and various other famous people stream in around you, dressed in clothes that appear casual but you’re sure cost double your monthly rent payment, looking less than unbothered about showing up late. You do your best to slip in unnoticed and stick to the perimeter of the massive room, feeling like an absolute fraud.

Thankfully it’s only a few steps before you find a table taken up entirely by pre-filled flutes of champagne, and you eagerly grab one, mostly just grateful for something to do with your hands.

It occurs to you how little you know about celebrity culture, because the party doesn’t even seem to have started yet: early 2000s R&B is bumping through the speakers, and it feels like every few minutes the elevator chimes to let another group of people trickle into the space. You find an unoccupied section of wall to lean against as you sip your drink slowly, hoping that if you try hard enough, you might actually manage to become one with the wallpaper.

Tipping your head back for another sip of champagne, you nearly choke at an unexpected voice from over your shoulder.

“You look like you hate parties as much as I do.”

You manage to not inhale your drink, instead giving a polite smile as your eyes drift across the crowded room. You’re too nervous to immediately steal a glance at whoever is speaking to you, though you’re sure it just makes you seem rude. “Hate isn’t exactly it.” You have nothing against parties, or people who enjoy them. “I just… haven’t figured out what I’m supposed to be doing, exactly.”

“I think talking to people is generally expected,” the voice quips. “So, hey, you’re doing great already. Keep it up and they might even think you’re an extrovert.”

You exhale a soft laugh, a slight heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

“But Hobi said I didn’t have to meet and greet if I didn't want to. So I’m taking that as full permission to enjoy free alcohol and read webtoons on my phone.”

Your gaze snaps over at the familiar nickname, and your mouth goes dry as you realize you’ve been casually conversing with none other than Kim Seokjin, who is absentmindedly fiddling with the thin green strap of the bag slung over his shoulder.

Fuck. Embarrassing yourself in front of random famous people was exactly what you were trying to avoid when you picked this wall to lean against. You’d figured the other members would all be out mingling in the center of things, not hiding in a corner. Who knew celebrities were just like you?

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, immediately dropping your gaze to avoid making eye contact when Jin looks up. He probably assumed you’d sidled up next to him on purpose, like some kind of creepy fan. “I’ll leave you alone, I actually really didn’t mean to–”

You glance up again only to realize Jin is laughing, shoulders shaking slightly.

“Wow, I’m so bad at this. That wasn’t me telling you to fuck off. I was just trying to sympathize.” He gestures lazily towards the stage at the front of the room. “Thankfully it looks like you don’t have to suffer my conversation any longer.”

A Jack in the Box graphic has started to flash, projected onto the screen. After a few seconds, the image stills, and a spotlight clicks on, following Hoseok as he emerges from backstage. You lean forward to set your drink on the closest table so you can join in the applause for him.

Hoseok looks as effortlessly cool as he always does, but even more so tonight, like someone has cranked his charisma up to the max setting. A real fucking popstar, a rockstar, even: baggy clothes, multiple layers of necklaces, chunky black boots, dark hair pushed back with a few strands falling into his eyes. He somehow even manages to make wearing sunglasses indoors look cool– probably because they’re immediately offset by the wide, sweet grin of his mouth as he addresses the crowd. You can hear that he’s nervous by how hard he’s trying to keep his voice even, and it’s enough to make you feel the flutter of butterfly wings in your throat.

As you pick your drink back up for another sip, you can’t help but wonder if Jin can literally see the hearts in your eyes, or a nervous little teardrop floating above your head like an anime character. You do your best to hide your smile behind your glass.

“J-Hope is pretty cool, huh?”

You bite down on your bottom lip, answering Jin’s question with a shy nod.

Hoseok descends the stage as the lights lower, and then the album intro is starting and there’s no more time for conversation. You watch from across the room as he drops down on the large built-in stairs next to Jungkook, who immediately wraps a supportive arm around his waist while Hoseok laughs like he’s embarrassed. You’ve always been in total awe of the way Hoseok can light up and command the energy of a room easily, then squirm away from it at the next second.

Jin gets waved over and gives you a small nod as he departs, and then you’re alone again with the champagne in your hand and the wall against your back and Hoseok’s music thrumming through your nervous system.

The album is nothing like you expected– you didn’t know what to expect, really– and you absolutely love it. You’ve always felt like you have a stupidly limited vocabulary when it comes to talking about music, particularly around Hoseok, but even you can manage to string together the thought that these songs are fucking special.

But then again, so is he.

In what feels like the blink of an eye Hoseok is taking the stage again to giggle through his thanks, bent slightly at the waist in overwhelmed appreciation, and then the pop playlist is switched back on and the lights are dimmed and you suddenly feel your palms start to slick up against your champagne flute.

You can’t help but wonder what the fuck you’re supposed to do now.

The obvious choice would be to finally go talk to Hoseok, but of course, he’s the man of the hour, so every other person in the room seems to have the same idea. You choose to hang back and watch as he weaves through the growing crowd, putting on a bored expression to pose for pictures, laughing excitedly as people shake his hand and speak to him in hushed tones, and flashing thumbs ups and peace signs left, right and center.

It looks exhausting, you think to yourself with a small smile. And this is why you’re not famous.

For the second time tonight someone manages to sneak up on you, and this time it’s accompanied with a gentle call of your name. You nearly drop your drink as you whip around.

When you find yourself face-to-face with Park Jimin, it takes a few seconds for you to remember how to close your mouth. What is going on?

“I thought that was you.”

You double-blink, unable to find any words at all. You have never met this man before in your life. Seen him dozens of times on your TV screen, sure, but certainly never formally introduced.

“I’m Jimin,” he says, and you have to swallow the urge to giggle in his face because, yeah, no shit.

“Hi, Jimin.”

“Hoseok is going to be excited that you’re here.” Jimin scrunches his face up a little, like he knows he shouldn’t be telling you this. “He kept asking me if I thought you would show or not. He really wouldn’t shut up about it.”

You find yourself stammering again, trying to figure out how the hell to respond. Why, out of everyone on the guest list, would Hoseok be concerned about you? And he’s talked to Jimin about you enough for him to know who you are, that he can recognize you on sight alone? Your head starts to spin, despite the fact that you’re only halfway through your glass of champagne.

“Since you don’t like parties,” Jimin says, like it’s common knowledge, as if it’s totally normal for this very busy and famous kpop idol to keep tabs on your socialization preferences.

You nod dumbly. “I, yeah. I’m just not very good at them.”

Jimin nods, pushing up the sleeves of his white Chanel sweater. “You just have to get comfortable with talking to people about boring shit. Did you try the food?”

You shake your head– the very thought is enough to make you feel a little sick. “I get, like, a nervous stomach?” You hate that it comes out like a question when it clearly isn’t.

“Aish, you and Hoseok are so alike,” Jimin rolls his eyes, hands on hips, but you can see he’s smiling a little. “I haven’t been able to get him to eat anything all day. And we ordered so much food, I don’t even know why. Like half the people in this room aren’t on fucking diets.”

“Jimin-ah!”

Both of your heads snap up at the sound of Namjoon’s voice from the other side of the room, distorted slightly by the thudding bass.

“Ahh, they’re doing pictures,” Jimin says with an exaggerated sigh, like it’s just so hard being desirable and photogenic. “Do you want to get a photo?”

You shake your head as emphatically as possible. “No, nope, absolutely not.”

Jimin pauses, squinting at you for a second in a way that makes you think that if you were closer friends, he’d be dragging you across the room regardless of your answer to the question. You watch as he clearly attempts to restrain himself.

“Well, don’t drink too much on an empty stomach, okay? I’ll make you a to-go plate of food before you leave.” He starts to walk backwards away from you, raising his voice a little so you can still hear him. “And please talk to Hoseokie when we’re done! Maybe then he’ll calm the fuck down!”

You can’t hide the smile that blooms across your face, and Jimin wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis before turning around and pressing his way through the crowd to the photo wall.

The members take turns passing Hoseok around, punctuated by the snap of the camera: pinching his cheeks, leaning into him, clinging to his shoulders, wrapping an arm around his neck. You laugh out loud when Taehyung hikes a leg up high on Hoseok’s hip and tips back, a hand draped across his forehead, eyes shut, so fucking dramatic.

Hoseok stares down the camera like a professional, only to immediately dissolve into giggles between shots, tongue poking out between his teeth like he can’t quite handle all the attention. It’s enough to have you nearly fighting for your life.

The members crowd in for a few group shots, posing cutely until Jimin finally waves everyone back off to the dancefloor. He keeps Hoseok behind with one hand gripping his bicep, and your heart drops into your stomach when Jimin leans in to whisper something in Hoseok’s ear.

Oh, fuck.

You try to calm yourself down, reasoning that he could be talking about any number of important things, but then Jimin pulls Hoseok’s sunglasses off his face, turns him unmistakably in your direction, and gives his shoulders a hard push. It’s clear Hoseok doesn’t quite know where he’s going as he stumbles forward and squints at the party lights, so you throw back the last of your champagne for some assistance, set the empty flute on a table, and force yourself to be brave.

You run your palms nervously over the sides of your dress, trying to focus on the feeling of smooth satin as you cross the room to meet him.

“Hobi.” His eyes find yours and you watch as his face, still in party mode— all perfect straight lines and severe grace and supermodel apathy— softens, brightens.

“Oh thank god, you made it,” Hoseok huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Come here.”

He pulls you in for a hug, not the lazy one-armed greetings you’ve seen celebrities give each other all night but a real, solid embrace, both arms crossed firmly over the small of your back. You press your nose into the crook of his neck, the thin fabric of his tank top brushing against your skin. Heat radiates off of him in waves, and he smells so good, like expensive cologne. It’s dizzying.

“Hi,” you murmur, and it’s punctuated with a soft giggle when you realize you’re speaking directly into his collarbone. You move to extract yourself, but his grip tightens.

“Five more seconds,” Hoseok says with another half-laugh, and you gladly allow yourself to melt back into his arms.

He sounds slightly hoarse, you notice, probably from talking all night. You think for easily the millionth time that you have no idea how he does it, but this moment of softness makes you wonder if being the life of the party is a little more difficult than he lets on.

Hoseok hums a little, and the feeling rumbles through your chest, buzzing all the way down to your fingertips like an electric current. When he finally releases you, it’s with a soft sigh, something that almost sounds like reluctance. Your heart backflips at the thought.

The lights flash waves of rainbow color over his face, each one painting his perfect features with a slightly different energy: pink, blue, orange, green. You momentarily forget how to talk, but Hoseok doesn’t miss a beat.

“Are you having fun?”

You nod as decisively as you can. “I’m just awkward, but that’s not your party’s fault.” He giggles, gaze flitting nervously around the room, as you continue. “Seriously, it’s a great party. And I’m not just saying that because you have free booze.”

“Did you want more?” He asks quickly, then seems to think better of it. “Or, well, how much have you had? Do you need water?”

You smile a little despite yourself. “I’m fine, Hobi, thank you. You have better things to do tonight than look after me because I nursed a single glass of champagne. And besides, Jimin already tried to mother hen me earlier.”

A look of serious anguish crosses Hoseok’s face, and he glances back over his shoulder, but Jimin has evaporated into the crowd of beautiful people. “God, I specifically told him to leave you alone.”

You shrug. “It’s not a big deal. He was sweet.”

Hoseok’s gaze lands back on you, and it feels like your chest lights up from the inside out. You almost can’t look directly at him– it’s not unlike staring into the sun. You blink up at him once, twice, more than dazed, and then he laughs again, nose scrunching slightly as if to cringe at himself.

“Agh, I feel awkward. I don’t know what to say.”

You’re smiling, too. “That’s okay,” you say, because it is. You’re perfectly content to just stand here with him, unconcerned with the chaos of the party around you.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“And– well, I guess you’ve never been here before, right? Can I give you a tour? I can take you downstairs and show you my studio.”

Your cheeks start to burn from all the questions, from how fixed his gaze is on you. It’s overwhelming. “Hobi, this is literally your party. You should stay here. I was doing fine holding up the wall over there.”

“Come on, I really want to. Please?” He leans in towards you slightly, glancing around as if to make sure he’s not being overheard. When he speaks into your ear, his voice drops to a lower register for privacy, and you can’t ignore the chills that dot up your spine. “I can’t talk to one more person that isn’t you right now.”

You nod, every nerve ending in your body now hyper-aware of how very close he is to you. “If you’re sure. I’d like that.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, and you breathe a soft giggle at how ridiculous it is that he’s the one thanking you at this moment. Before you even realize what he’s doing, his hand finds your hand, delicate fingers intertwining with yours. The skin of his palm is soft and warm. “Let’s go.” He chases the words with a gentle squeeze.

Hoseok leads you into the elevator and presses the button for a lower floor. You’re a little surprised when he slumps back against the wall with a heavy sigh as the doors close, still holding your hand.

“Oh, I’m tired.” He says quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself rather than to you. “It just hit me now. That was a lot.”

You squeeze his hand back, and his eyes flutter open to look at you. You press yourself up against the wall next to him. “You sound like me after any social event. And here I was thinking all night that you made it look so easy.”

Hoseok smiles. “I’m good at faking it. But I always collapse after stuff like this.” His eyes drift away from you and he stares into the empty space in front of him, his expression darkening slightly. “I just really hope they liked it. It’s so hard to tell what people think, or who’s only bullshitting you when they tell you it’s good. I’d rather they be honest with me.”

“Well, if it means anything, I loved it.” You say softly, your eyes searching his face. “And I’m not a bullshitter.”

Hoseok blinks, then nods once, his eyes not meeting yours. “You’re not. I appreciate that.”

The chime of the elevator seems to snap him somewhat out of his headspace, and he tugs on your joined hands to pull you through the doors as they slide open. “It’s just at the end of the hall.”

There’s something about Hoseok that comforts you all the way to your core, laps gently at the edges of your shyness until it recedes a bit. He just makes you feel like you can say anything without fear of judgment. Conversation comes easier with him, like this.

“How do you feel about it?”

“The album?” He asks.

You shrug. “Everything.”

“I’m very nervous,” Hoseok answers immediately with a bright peal of laughter, squeezing your hand again for emphasis. “I’m working really hard but… it all feels like uncharted territory. It’s so different to do it alone.”

His eyes jump from studio door to studio door as he leads you down the hallway. “I don’t know if people are going to like this side of me or the things I have to say. I don’t know if anyone will still care now that it’s just me. And ugh, I’m so unsure about the music festival. I’ve never done a whole show on my own before. I practice so much every day and I still don’t know if I can do it. Or if it will be any good.”

When he stops you outside of the final door at the end of the hallway, he seems to remember himself. “Wow, look at me. You were probably only being polite and I threw so much at you. This is just what goes around in my head. Every day and every night.”

“You sound stressed,” you say softly.

Hoseok purses his lips for a second. “I guess. I just really want to do well. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. I would– what?”

It isn’t until he asks the question, regarding you with a confused expression, that you realize you’re shaking your head. The smile that has crept across your face is a mixture of disbelief and appreciation.

“I’m sorry,” you’re practically laughing. “Please, keep going.”

“No, no, what is that face?”

You chew on the corner of your lip, trying to figure out the best way to word it. “I just… I don’t want to dismiss your concerns, because I absolutely understand all of them. And I would be shitting a brick, no question. But you…” Hoseok’s eyes widen a little as you pause, drinking him in, the way concern tugs down the corners of his mouth. “You just have no idea. No idea what it’s like to watch you from out here. And I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

He pauses as if to consider your words. “What do you see?”

You don’t even have to think about the answer. It feels as steady and honest as the beat of your heart behind your ribs. “I see a fucking star. I see somebody who was born to do exactly what he’s doing. And, I mean, I think being nervous is a good thing, and I don’t say this to try and invalidate how you’re feeling at all. But I don’t see any possible future where you don’t succeed, Hoseok. It’s just... not an option. You’re going to get up there and kill it, I know you are. Because it’s you.”

Hoseok’s hand slips out of yours, and you can feel the warmth of his palms as he presses them to your waist to pull you close. Anticipation sparks through you. His eyes search yours intently, like he’s looking for something. “You really feel that way?”

“Completely. There’s no doubt in my mind.” Your gaze drops to his mouth, the way his full lips are parted slightly, and it occurs to you that maybe you’re talking about more than one thing now. “It feels predestined, to me… I don’t know. Inevitable.”

Hoseok makes a soft noise as he continues to close the distance between you. “Inevitable?” You tilt your chin up towards him, every cell in your body humming. “Like this?”

The way he kisses you is so gentle and sweet, you swear your heart leaps into your throat. You allow a second, maybe two, to move your mouth against his and get lost in it, and then you force yourself to break away, your mind reeling.

“I’m sorry,” he says automatically. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

“Hoseok,” you murmur, eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to navigate the discomfort of being vulnerable. “I– you should know that I really, really like you.”

“Really?”

The shock in his voice makes your eyes snap open again, and you can’t help but make a face of utter disbelief. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Looks like I’m not the only one who doesn’t realize how other people see me. You’re actually very hard to read.” Hoseok slips one hand off of your waist to push down on the door handle behind you, then gestures for you to step through. He keeps talking as he follows in after you, letting the door shut behind him. “I second-guess myself all the time with you. Jimin is so fucking tired of hearing about it.”

“Wow,” you say dumbly. “I had no idea.”

“You didn’t even text me back about tonight! I had no idea if you were coming.”

You start to laugh as the realization washes over you: you’d been so busy sighing forlornly and stressing about what to wear, you’d forgotten to actually reply to his messages.

“Okay, this time was actually an accident. But…” You sweep your gaze over his studio, trying to think. “I don’t know, I just always feel like I’m bothering you. Your life is so big and important. Even now: you should be upstairs being the star of your own party. Not down here with me.”

Hoseok shakes his head immediately. “I don’t want to talk to anyone up there the way I want to talk to you. I was such a wreck today when you didn’t answer.”

You can’t believe what he’s saying, even as he takes a step in towards you, his mouth invitingly close to yours again. “Why? I am quite literally the least important person on the guestlist.”

“Because,” Hoseok pauses for a second, then sighs. “I like you, and I was scared that you’d decided not to come, when I…” He’s practically grinning, and the tell of his scrunched up nose makes you realize– he’s embarrassed. “I threw this whole party just to have an excuse to see you.”

Your jaw drops open. “You what?”

“Please don’t make me say it again.”

“Hobi.” You both start to laugh as you stare in disbelief, trying to process the most ridiculous statement you’ve ever heard in your life. “You could have just called me.”

“I tend to overthink these things.”

He’s close enough that you barely have to move to slide your hands up his chest and grip the lapels of his white button-down.

“I think I can help with that,” you murmur, and then you tug him back down into a kiss that makes your head spin.

The sweet nervousness of your first kiss has been replaced with urgency now, Hoseok’s mouth moving over yours like he’s hungry for it. You tug gently on your fistfuls of his shirt to move him towards you, stumbling backwards until you find purchase against the door of the studio.

Hoseok moves skillfully, tongue licking into your mouth while one of his strong thighs shifts to tease your legs apart and press between them. The quick succession of the two is enough to make your breath hitch, and it seems to encourage him more. The rough denim of his jeans grinds into your center, and your already-short dress has ridden up enough that the pressure drags hot sparks right over your core.

Your jaw goes slack as your focus slips, and you tip your head back against the door with a soft whine, circling your hips for more friction. “Fuck, Hoseok.”

His lips drop down to the exposed skin of your neck. The warmth of his mouth has your back arching, your nipples rubbed into stiff peaks under the thin fabric you couldn’t wear a bra with.

“You look so fucking good tonight,” Hoseok groans. “Driving me crazy in this little dress.”

There’s the soft brush of a hand on your thigh, and he teases the hem of your dress up higher and higher as your hips keep moving; his tongue darts out to lick a languid stripe over your collarbone. His other hand slides up from your waist to cup your breast over satin, deftly rolling the bud of your nipple between his long fingers, pinching with just enough pressure to coax a moan out of you.

“I like the sounds you make. Don’t want you to be shy with me.” Hoseok murmurs over your skin before he starts to suck deliberately at your neck, right on your pulse point. You couldn’t stifle the sound his mouth pulls from you even if you wanted to.

With all your attention drawn to grinding your clit against his leg and the warmth of his palm cupping your breast, your grip on the fabric of his shirt has loosened. Moving in a haze of pleasure, your hands fumble at his denim jacket, attempting to push it down his shoulders. Hoseok pulls back slightly when he realizes what you’re doing, though his fingers still lazily squeeze at your nipple.

“Let me just– hang on–” Hoseok untangles himself from you entirely with a sheepish grin, and you take the moment to collect yourself, your chest heaving in shallow breaths. You can feel the way your panties are soaked through as you press your thighs together, desperate for continued friction.

He’s moving quickly as he slips out of his oversized jacket and button down beneath it. You can clearly see the wheels in his head turning as he lays the pieces over the back of his desk chair, then immediately scrunches his face up as if to think better of it.

“Agh, sorry, sorry, one second–” Hoseok shakes out the jacket, then the shirt, folding both in quick yet precise succession before stacking the neat rectangles together and gently setting them on the small couch next to his desk.

Even in the dim studio lighting you can see his face is flushed pink with embarrassment as he returns to press you back against the door.

“I just– I don’t want wrinkles,” he says softly, and you’re very grateful that you no longer have to suppress the urge to take his face in your hands and kiss him.

“I like you so much,” you giggle into his mouth, and it’s punctuated with a squeak when his hands slide down to firmly grab your ass. The fabric of your dress is so thin that it hardly feels like it’s there at all.

Hoseok must have the same thought, because he releases his grip only for as long as it takes to push the skirt of your dress up over your ass; now there’s nothing separating his fingers from your skin when he squeezes you again.

“Like you,” he agrees, his voice husky. “Want to taste you.” Your core aches for his touch, clenches around nothing when he releases his grip and cracks a hand over the soft flesh of your asscheek.

“Please, Hobi.”

You find his mouth with yours again for a needy taste of a kiss, tongues sliding together. Your arms wrap around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer.

In one swift move he presses you flush against the door, and his hands slip to hitch your legs over his waist before moving back to your ass, hoisting your hips up to properly straddle him. You whimper at the grind of his erection through his jeans, right over your rubbed-sensitive center, and at the thought that he could fuck you just like this, up against this door.

Hoseok’s mouth doesn’t leave yours as he turns and carries you the short distance across the room, hands sliding to your hips so he can set you down on the desk. His lips are full and kiss-bitten red when he pulls back to look at you, pupils blown dark with lust.

“Sure this is okay?”

You meet his gaze, reaching up to dust strands of hair out of his eyes. His mouth chases the heel of your hand so he can press those soft lips into the center of your palm, chaste and sweet.

“It’s so much more than okay,” you murmur.

He’s smiling as he leans forward for another kiss, only pulling back to press his forehead to yours once you’re both breathless. “I have wanted to do this for so fucking long. You have no idea.”

His hands hook under the backs of your thighs to scoot you gently forward until you’re perched at the very edge of his desk, and then he sinks to his knees. Your legs that were slipped around his waist find new purchase thrown over his shoulders and you tense a little when your high heels scrape over his back.

“I can take these off,” you start, but he’s already shaking his head as his palms encourage your thighs apart.

“I like it.”

You’re nearly gasping for breath with anticipation as his long fingers slip under the band of your panties and you lift your hips up so he can pull them down. You manage to extract one leg to drape back over his shoulders, leaving the lacy fabric to dangle off the other as you open up for him.

Hoseok’s thumbs press to either side of your pussy, gently spreading your lips apart to admire how soaked you already are. Anyone else examining you like this would have you squirming away self-consciously, but there’s just something about Hoseok that’s different. You want him to know every part of you fully, intimately.

“God, you are so gorgeous.” His breath is hot over your skin, makes your cunt tighten needily as if to beckon him closer.

You lean back to brace your forearms on the desk behind you and Hoseok’s gaze jumps up to meet yours. He doesn’t drop eye contact as he leans forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to your slit, both of you groaning at the contact.

His mouth moves just as it did against yours, and you let your eyes flutter closed as pleasure sears through you like a hot knife. Hoseok grunts a little, low in his throat when he adds tongue to his kisses, licking softly but deliberately to part your slick folds.

“Hobi,” you whine, rolling your hips up into him as he starts to apply more pressure with his tongue. “Fuck, ah, feels so good.”

Hoseok pulls off of you with a throaty gasp, like maybe he was so focused on eating you out that he didn’t quite remember to keep breathing. When you look down at him, his lips are wet and glossy, spread in a wide smile. “You taste so fucking good.”

You don’t even have time to ask for more before he’s hooking his biceps around your thighs and tugging your hips towards him, pulling you even closer to bury his face between your legs. This time he licks a stripe straight up to your swollen clit, pulling the bud into his mouth to suck on.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, digging your nails into the desk beneath you as sparks shoot through you and your clit twitches in his mouth.

Hoseok hums steadily around you, as if to once again encourage you to be vocal. He starts to nod his head as he sucks, his nose pressed flush against your pubic bone. Your hips fall in time with his rhythm, grinding back down on him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whimper. “Shit, Hobi.” Your voice catches on a dazed, disbelieving laugh. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.”

He doesn’t let up, squeezing his grip on your thighs that much tighter when you start to quiver beneath him. Your arousal coils tight and hot in your core as he works more not-so-shy noises out of you, breathy moans, needy whines.

You cling desperately to the edge of his desk, teetering equally on the edge of your own release. The wet slick wash of his tongue is lush, decadent, lapping at your clit between pulses of suction, and it’s all too fucking much.

“Yes, Hoseok, fuck!”

You cry out, your heels digging into the hard plane of Hoseok’s back as he works an intense, shuddering orgasm out of you. Your cunt throbs over and over as you come, a rush of arousal painting the crux of your thighs.

When you catch your breath it’s in uneven, shaky gasps, and the movement of your hips sharpens into jolts as you become hypersensitive to Hoseok’s mouth. He releases you almost reluctantly, still hovering close, continuing to dart his tongue out to gently lick up your folds.

“I don’t want to stop,” he says with a shy, blossoming laugh, the light catching the shine of his lips and chin when he glances up at you.

You’re dazed, beyond blissed out, unable to believe that any of this is real. You like him so much.

“Can I keep going?”

Just that sentence is enough to make you tighten all over again with anticipation. “I–” you laugh a little too despite yourself. “I want that. But I think my clit needs a second.”

Hoseok’s touch is featherlight as he circles a digit lower, over your entrance, as if to ask permission. “What about here?” Your pussy lips twitch even under so gentle a touch, but you ache for more; you like that it’s overwhelming.

“Yeah, yes. There, please, fuck,” you babble. He’s added a second finger to tease now, and you whimper when they finally press together into your sensitive cunt.

Hoseok is watching his fingers intently, and you can hear the way your pussy squelches as he pumps them slowly, can feel the tremors of your orgasm still shuddering through you, causing slick to drip from your center. You can only imagine what his view must be like, how you must look: dripping, needy, trembling for him, fingers gripping the desk and head lolling back.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, his voice low and soft, and then he dips his head down to lap below your entrance, tasting the juices that have leaked out of you. He pulls back to smack his other hand over your whole cunt, light enough that you barely feel the tap, but just the visual of it makes you squirm beneath him.

“So cute,” he smiles. His fingers rub circles into your front wall, becoming more insistent, and you breathe in shaky waves as you start to grip tightly around him.

“Hoseok,” you breathe, letting your eyes drop closed. Arousal blossoms through you like a heavy weight, your second climax already building, when you feel his other hand cup the join of your ass and thigh.

A soft whimper spills out of you as Hoseok starts to massage below your entrance, thumb working at a new bundle of nerves, like nothing you’ve ever felt. It’s pleasure that makes you hot all over, makes the muscles in your legs shiver and tense when it’s paired with the crook of his fingers still working your pussy.

“Fuck,” you pant, “Hobi, what are– that feels so–” You’re starting to lose a grip on your words, sentences going incoherent as your head spins. It’s hard to think over all the sensation, the way your body is lit up like a live wire, and the sound of your cunt gushing around him as he fucks into your g-spot.

“Has anyone touched you here before?” He asks softly, thumb tapping at the thin bridge of skin between your pussy and your ass. His head dips down for a chaste kiss there, then a second, adding a languid lap of tongue.

“N-no,” you whimper, toes curling in your shoes as he continues to drag his tongue over this delicate, sensitive place. “Keep going.”

Hoseok pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting him to you, and he lets it loose with a swipe of his hand over his mouth. His fingers slip out of you as he pairs a question with a smile. “Turn over for me?”

Your legs would be shaking even if you weren’t in fancy party heels, and you do your best to be graceful as you unsteadily spin, one arm keeping the fabric of your dress hiked up over your hips.

“Brace yourself on the desk,” Hoseok instructs, and you do, leaning forward until your stomach and forearms are flush with the wood, your bare ass hanging off the desk, presented for him. You spread your legs apart again and can feel the way your pussy drools arousal down your thighs. “That’s it,” he coaxes.

His fingers massage firmly into the flesh of your asscheeks, and your back arches up as you groan at the feeling. He spreads you just a little, enough for cool air to tease at your slick center; your hips wiggle towards him on instinct.

“Pretty back here, too,” he murmurs. “Tell me how it feels, okay? Won’t do it if you don’t like it.”

You clench for him in both places, even your fists grip tight in the fabric of your dress. “I’ll like it. Please, baby.”

“Baby,” Hoseok repeats back with a shy exhale. “I like that. I like you.” He leaves a sweet kiss pressed halfway up your thigh.

“Hobi–” you choke out a whine of his name as his breath ghosts over you, hands still firmly keeping you spread. His tongue returns to your perineum again, licking a hot, slow stripe that keeps moving up, up, until you feel the tease of warmth and wetness over your ass. “Oh, fuck.”

You’re so sensitive here, just the lightest drag of his tongue over your rim makes you moan, feet kicking listlessly as pleasure shudders through you.

“It’s good–” you manage to whimper, voice muffled slightly as your forehead drops against the desk, too, your whole body pinned down by his mouth. “–ngh, really good, Hobi.” Your cunt throbs when he does it again, as he falls into a consistent pace of long, steady laps that set off fireworks behind your eyes.

The ache in your core begs for touch, friction, and you oblige needily, tucking a hand under the weight of your hips pressed into the desk, a sweat-slicked palm for your mouth-wet clit.

Hoseok doesn’t miss a thing. It’s only for a second that he pulls off of you, but you whine at the loss of his tongue, sated slightly by the gentle brush of his lips over the small of your back. “Gonna get yourself off while I eat you out?”

You grind a circle down with your hips, hissing at the white-hot pulse against your hand. “Yes, baby, please.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement to dive back in, fingers gripping harder to spread you and tongue licking deliberately, tracing patterns that work more arousal out of your pussy. You’re unraveling fast from humping against your palm, hips jolting forward to make your clit twitch and backwards to press towards Hoseok’s mouth.

You’re already wound so tight that you’re too desperate for words, reduced instead to little breathless gasps– “ah, ahh”– as you speed up the rub of your hand, your hips. Hoseok’s tongue never falters, firm pressure laved over and over your sensitive, flexing ass.

With a soft hum of effort, you feel him press a little harder, tongue barely dipping in past your tight ring of muscle, and the sweet stretch of it is the final push you need.

You roll your clit just right over your palm a final time and then you’re shaking and moaning as everything starts to pulse. The all-over clench pushes a fresh wave of fluid from your cunt, rolling down the backs of your thighs, fat droplets of arousal that Hoseok chases with sloppy kisses as the waves of your orgasm shudder through you.

It takes a moment before you can say anything, do anything, limbs too heavy and brain too fucked-out dumb. You do your best to slide gracefully off the desk, but your legs shake with aftershocks that betray you, and you stumble.

Hoseok is quick to wrap his arms around you and guide your hips down to the floor next to him. You collapse in a heap of giggles, him tangled over your waist, the skirt of your dress still pushed up, your bare ass on his studio carpet.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok laughs, and you bury your face in the fabric of his tank top as an answer, not convinced your coherency has returned to you yet.

“Too good,” you murmur, words slurring. “Fucked me too good.”

“You’re so hot.” You can tell he’s blushing just by the tone of his voice, and you start to come to a little, slow-blinking back to reality and rolling over to look up at him. His dark eyes shine as he smiles. You don’t want to come all the way down from this dazed, happy place yet, you realize, and you curl a finger into the loop of his jeans, tugging him closer.

“My turn.” Your hands start to fumble to undo his belt buckle. His jeans are oversized, but not enough to obscure the print of his hard cock pressed against his thigh.

“Let me take you home,” he says softly, running a fingertip along your jaw. “This should be– I want you to be comfortable. I want it to feel good.”

“It all feels good,” you say earnestly, sitting up to tug at the button of his jeans, undeterred. “And you can take me home. But you’ve been so good to me, Hobi.” You manage to work his fly open, and you lift your gaze to meet him. “Let me be good to you.”

You resume your work, wriggling Hoseok’s jeans down his thighs until his hands cover yours and he takes over, stripping himself of his shoes as well. He reaches back between his shoulder blades to pull his tank top over his head, and your eyes sweep over his body, taking in his lithe figure and smooth, hard muscles. You trail the tips of your fingers down the defined lines of his chest.

“Fuck,” Hoseok starts to smile self-consciously, one hand drifting over his dick straining against tight black briefs with a slightly darker spot in the center where he’s left a kiss of precum on the fabric. “I don’t have any condoms here.”

You sit up on your knees in front of him, considering this. “Use my mouth.” The high of your orgasm has subsided enough now that you’re not quite shameless anymore, and heat blooms in your face as you continue. “Like, fuck my throat.”

He tries and fails to suppress a groan, and his delicate hands reach to cup either side of your face, thumbs rubbing circles into the hinge of your jaw. “You–” he laughs softly. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I mean it,” you say simply.

“But you really want to?”

You nod, half play-acting your shyness now, letting your lashes flutter as you blink up at him. “I’ve done it before. I like it.”

“Fuck,” Hoseok breathes. “I want to do everything you like.”

“Please?” You ask sweetly, and Hoseok is already getting to his feet, one hand still cupping your jaw.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “So pretty when you beg to suck my cock.” You’re smiling, your fingers slipping under his waistband to slide his briefs down his legs.

“Take your dress off, baby,” Hoseok instructs as he steps back to finish pulling off his underwear. “Don’t wanna ruin it.”

You do as you’re told, staying on your knees to pull it over your head, your heart squeezing again when he takes it from you and treats it as gently as his own clothes. It’s oddly domestic to watch him fold the smooth fabric with shaking hands, naked except for his jewelry, his hard dick leaking against his stomach.

When he turns back to you, you take the opportunity to properly admire him. His cock is as flushed and gorgeous as the rest of him, thick and dripping wet from his tip. You duck down to press a kiss to the sensitive spot under his head, then slide your lips up to gloss over his slit, slicking your mouth with his precum.

You look up at him, hands gripping the backs of his thighs; Hoseok’s eyelids are heavy with lust as he watches you work, tongue toying at the corner of his mouth. He groans a little as you pop just the head into your mouth and swirl your tongue over it, tasting the salt of him.

His hand slides to the back of your head, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck, and his adam’s apple jerks in his throat as he swallows.

“Tap my foot if you need to stop.” Hoseok’s voice is quiet but firm, and his socked toes wiggle, brushing against your knee pressed into the carpet. “Okay?”

You hum your acknowledgement and maintain eye contact as he holds you still and slides his cock into your mouth. He starts off at a gentle pace, and you hollow your cheeks around him, pressing your tongue flat so it drags over his shaft as he starts to pump in and out of you.

As much as you want him in control, there’s a part of you that can’t help yourself– you lean forward, eyes fluttering closed, wanting to prove to him how much you can take. The head of his cock starts to stretch down your throat and you focus on breathing steady through your nose, your muscles jumping around him in a half-swallow.

“Fuck,” Hoseok groans, his voice dark and rough-edged. You can feel drool starting to leak out of your mouth, and the mess just makes it better. “You take it so well.”

His hips keep rolling, withdrawing his cock into the heat of your mouth only to push it back down the tight clutch of your throat. It gets easier as he starts to move faster, the weight of him pressing bright on your gag reflex in shorter and shorter bursts. It’s just enough to make tears well up in your eyes. They eventually spill over, staining your cheeks until your face is slick and wet, like the sounds of him hitting the back of your throat, all of it obscene and hot.

The hand in your hair tightens as he pulls you all the way down on his shaft until your nose is flush with his abdomen and your throat bulges, filled with him. He holds you there, eyes roaming hungrily over your face.

“You look so sweet with my cock down your throat, baby.”

The hum of agreement you try makes you gag a little, and he quickly releases, pulling out to let you gasp for air. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you smile up at him, dazed, and catch your breath.

“Was that too much?” His brows pinch together slightly with concern. You wipe a hand over your nose and shake your head.

“I want more, Hobi,” you purr, moving your face back towards his dick. You lean forward to lazily drag your tongue up his shaft for emphasis. “Want you to come on my face,” you admit as you fix your gaze on him.

You swear you feel his knees almost buckle when you take him in your mouth again.

“You are so fucking sexy,” Hoseok practically growls, hand returning to the nape of your neck. He pushes himself back down your throat and starts to pick up the pace. You want him all and take it easily now, drool slicking your neck and chest when you swallow around his length.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, and you can feel his cock twitch on your tongue as he fucks roughly into your mouth, chasing his orgasm. “Oh my god.”

Hoseok’s grip on your hair goes slack and he pulls out, hand pumping fast over his drool-glossed cock. He tips his head back, exposing the column of his throat with a heady whine when he starts to come. You’re up on your knees and ready for it, nose bumping his fist, face presented for him to paint. Warm spurts of cum hit your cheeks, tongue, lips, and you giggle a little as you try to hold still, as he makes another throaty grunt of effort and release.

“Shit,” he hisses as the movements of his hand slow, as he works out the last of it, stray drips already trailing down your neck, between the valley of your breasts. “Fuuuck.” His breathing is ragged, and you press a wet kiss to the tip of his dick as he recovers.

He’s clearly already focused on the mess he’s made of you, spinning in a dazed semi-circle before reaching to grab a box of tissues off of the desk. His bare knees thud on the carpet as he sinks down next to you.

You’re surprised when he leans in to kiss you, humming softly against your mouth, tongue even darting out to lick at the cum that drips off your lips. You smile into it, teeth gently grazing over his bottom lip.

“Hi,” he huffs a laugh as he leans back. “Was that okay? Not too much?”

You shake your head. “I liked it,” you say again, though your voice comes out a little hoarse. “Wouldn’t have asked for it if I didn’t. I like you. I–” your breath hitches slightly with nerves, and it’s funny to you, that it’s easy to ask him to fuck your throat, but hard to talk about the bigger feelings underneath. It’s more intimate, somehow, to be earnest. “You always worry so much about everyone else. I just want to take care of you.”

“You can.” Hoseok’s voice is gentle and warm. “We both can.” He pulls a tissue loose from the box, hovering close to you. “Let me clean you up.”

You’re too blissed out to stop yourself from giggling. “You have a whole party to get back to.” You nod dumbly at the verity of your own statement as he uses tissues to wipe cum and drool off your face, tear stains and smudged makeup from your cheeks.

“This,” he swipes a thumb down over your bottom lip, chases it with another quick kiss, “was so much better than a fucking party.” He adds the last of the dampened tissues to the small pile he’s made on the floor, tilting your jaw with his hand to inspect his work, to ensure perfection as he does with everything. “But I probably don’t have much longer before people start looking for me.”

“You should go,” you say quietly, trying to ignore the drop in your stomach.

His hand slips into yours for the second time tonight. “Will you come with me? I know it’s not really your thing.”

You falter momentarily– not because you don’t want to, but you can’t shake your own self-consciousness, this sense that you don’t belong here, rubbing elbows with all these famous people. But it’s hard to feel like any of that matters with the way Hoseok is looking at you, the soft turn of his lips in a barely-there smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Very.” He gives your hand an affirming squeeze. “Do I need to remind you that this entire party is literally for you?”

You shake your head, rolling your eyes at his antics despite the laugh that bubbles up in your throat. “I still can’t believe you. What is this, The Great Gatsby?”

His laugh is high and sweet, hand untangling from yours to wrap both arms around your waist, and he pulls you into his chest, bare skin on bare skin, hearts beating together. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Hobi,” you relent. “I’ll go back with you. Besides, Jimin promised to feed me.”

You can feel Hoseok’s smile as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Come on, then. I promise it’ll be fun. If we get Jungkook drunk enough he’ll probably start dancing on the stage.”

“Now that I have to see.”

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #hoseok x y/n

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mykoreanlove · 27 days

Text

my only one

Your engagement party was a full blast - the pittoreske venue was filled with the people you loved most. Everybody was dancing, drinking and celebrating your upcoming wedding.

You had been shaking firm hands and giving out heartfelt hugs all night long, so you snuck out onto the balcony to take a break.

The balcony was covered in golden fairy lights, slightly illuminating the breathtaking view in front of you.

You didn’t turn around as you noticed the door open, you had a gut feeling who it would be.

Strong arms hugged you from behind and a raspy voice whispered in your ear - your home had found you.

„Hey“, he whispered, „you okay?“

You nodded silently and grabbed his arm, squeezing lightly.

„Am now“, you smiled.

Namjoon chuckled and hid his face in the crook of your neck, resting silently for a moment or two.

„You know… you can still say no.“, he stated nervously.

You laughed out loud, filling his ear with the vibration of your amusement.

„Now why would I do that?“

Namjoon hugged you even tighter, merging into one once more.

„So you really mean it, huh?“

„Joon, you’re stuck with me. Forever.“

„Forever? Really?“

„Yes, you dumbass, forever. Were you really doubting?“

He let out a deep sigh, as if he was finally releasing the anxiety he carried in his heart.

„It’s just that sometimes I feel like this is too good to be true. You’re too good to be true, y/n.“

You pushed his head back gently and turned around, looking up into his saddened eyes.

„Listen up, big boy. I love you and you love me. It’s supposed to feel this good.“

You saw his cheeks redden, as he averted his gaze embarrassed. You reached for his big hands and squeezed them as tightly as you could.

„I’m not running away, Joon. I know you are the one for me.“

He turned to face you and smiled warmly.

„The one?“

Namjoon was a confident man, taking extreme pride in his talents and intellect but the slightest doubt could turn him into an anxious mess. Especially if the doubt was about you.

You nodded cheerfully, while making your point.

„When did you realize?“

„Pretty early on“, you said and turned around again, observing the beautiful landscape in front of you.

„Hey, wait. Tell me when! Please, y/n“, he whined into your ear as his arms found your waist again.

You let your head fall back against his broad chest and smiled, remembering those days fondly.

„Do you remember when we first met? How we used to be?“

He nodded.

„We were inseparable back then, always hanging out with each other or calling or texting. It felt like we were obsessed with getting to know each other“, you mused happily.

„That didn’t change“, he said as he left soft kisses on your neck.

„One time when we were on the phone we had a conversation that sealed the deal for me. From then on I just knew that I would marry you some day.“

„What did I say, baby?“

„Oh god, I can actually quote it. How lame am I?“, you laughed embarrassed.

„The lamest. But I love you for that“, he chuckled against your skin. „Now tell me.“

„You said you were proud of me. It was super random and I didn’t understand why. I had to ask for clarification.“, you reminisced.

„Wait, I remember that call.“

You stayed silent for a second, replaying the situation in your mind.

„I am proud of you because you’re doing so great, y/n. Eating your veggies. Drinking your water. Taking your vitamins. Going for walks. Taking care of your mind. Staying positive. That deserves all my proud, y/n.“, you quoted him.

Namjoon stood quietly behind you, already knowing where this was going.

„I didn’t tell you at the time but I was facing a lot of shit. A lot of heavy stuff that made my life a living hell. And I was not doing fine. At all. Taking care of myself, even the simplest things, were a heavy burden to me. But I was trying my best and yet somehow you caught that.“

You turned around once more and looked into his loving eyes, stroking his cheek as you exclaimed your love for him.

„You didn’t need me to articulate my pain. You just knew. It’s like you saw right through me and decided to stay anyway. To give me my time to come to you instead of pressuring me into telling you.“

Namjoon‘s eyes were filled with tears as he listened closely, this was the first time you ever spoke about it that candidly.

„You sensed the war within me and provided me with peace. To me, Joonie, there’s no greater act of love. And I promise to return that love every single day. If you let me.“

Namjoon wiped away the tears hastily, but you stopped him.

You reached up to him and kissed him, tasting his salty tears on his sweet lips. In this moment you were sure that this wouldn’t be the last time for salty kisses but you didn’t mind. As long as you got him by your side, you were good.

Your Joon. Your home. Your only one.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months

Text

Middlemen without enshittification

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me next in SALT LAKE CITY (Feb 21, Weller Book Works) and SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA, Seattle, Portland, Phoenix and more!

Enshittification describes how platforms go bad, which is also how the internet goes bad, because the internet is made of platforms, which is weird, because platforms are intermediaries and we were promised that the internet would disintermediate the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

The internet did disintermediate a hell of a lot of intermediaries – that is, "middlemen" – but then it created a bunch more of these middlemen, who coalesced into a handful of gatekeepers, or as the EU calls them "VLOPs" (Very Large Online Platforms, the most EU acronym ever).

Which raises two questions: first, why did so many of us end up flocking to these intermediaries' sites, and how did those sites end up with so much power?

To answer the first question, I want you to consider one of my favorite authors: Crad Kilodney (RIP):

https://archive.org/details/thecradkilodneypapers

When I was growing up, Crad was a fixture on the streets of Toronto. All through the day and late into the evening, winter or summer, Crad would stand on the street with a sign around his neck ("Very famous Canadian author, buy my books, $2" or sometimes just "Margaret Atwood, buy my books, $2"). He wrote these deeply weird, often very funny short stories, which he edited, typeset, printed, bound and sold himself, one at a time, to people who approached him on the street.

I had a lot of conversations with Crad – as an aspiring writer, I was endlessly fascinated by him and his books. He was funny, acerbic – and sneaky. Crad wore a wire: he kept a hidden tape recorder rolling in his coat and he secretly recorded conversations with people like me, and then released a series of home-duplicated tapes of the weirdest and funniest ones:

https://archive.org/details/on-the-street-crad-kilodney-vol-1

I love Crad. He deserves more recognition. There's an on-again/off-again documentary about his life and work that I hope gets made some day:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/09/free-sample/#putrid-scum

But – and this is the crucial part – there are writers out there I want to hear from who couldn't do what Crad did. Maybe they can write books, but not edit them. Or edit them, but not typeset them. Or typeset, but not print. Or print, but not spend the rest of their lives standing on a street-corner with a "PUTRID SCUM" sign around their neck.

Which is fine. That's why we have intermediaries. I like booksellers (I was one!). I like publishers. I like distributors. I like their salesforce, who go forth and convince the booksellers of the world to stock books like mine. I have ten million things I want to do before I die, and I'm already 52, and being a sales-rep for a publisher isn't on my bucket list. I am so thankful that someone else wants to do this for me.

That's why we have intermediaries, and why disintermediation always leads to some degree of re-intermediation. There's a lot of explicit and implicit knowledge and specialized skill required to connect buyers and sellers, creators and audiences, and other sides of two-sided markets. Some producers can do some of this stuff for themselves, and a very few – like Crad – can do it all, but most of us need some help, somewhere along the way. In the excellent 2022 book Direct, Kathryn Judge lays out a clear case for all the good that middlemen can do:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/direct-the-problem-of-middlemen/

So why were we all so anxious for disintermediation back in the late 1990s? Here's a hint: it wasn't because we hated intermediaries – it was because we hated powerful intermediaries.

The point of an intermediary is to serve as a conduit between producers and consumers, buyers and sellers, audiences and creators. When an intermediary gains power over the audience – say, by locking them inside a walled garden – and then uses that lock-in to screw producers and appropriate an ever larger share of the value going between them, that's when intermediaries become a problem.

The problem isn't that someone will handle ticketing for your gig. The problem is that Ticketmaster has locked down all the ticketing, and the venues, and the promotions, and it uses that power to gouge fans and rip off artists:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/20/anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-will-eventually-stop/

The problem isn't that there's a well-made website that lets you shop for goods sold by many small merchants and producers. It's that Amazon has cornered this market, takes $0.51 out of every dollar you spend there, and clones and destroys any small merchant who succeeds on the platform:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

The problem isn't that there's a website where you can stream most of the music ever recorded. It's that Spotify colludes with the Big Three labels to rip off artists and sneaks crap you don't want to hear into your stream in order to collect payola:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

The problem isn't that there's a website where you can buy any audiobook you want. It's that Amazon's Audible locks every book to its platform forever and steals hundreds of millions of dollars from creators:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

The problem, in other words, isn't intermediation – it's power. The thing that distinguishes a useful intermediary from an enshittified bully is power. Intermediaries gain power when our governments stop enforcing competition law. This lets intermediaries buy each other up and corner markets. Once they've formed cozy cartels, they can capture their regulators and commit rampant labor, privacy and consumer violations with impunity. That capture also lets them harness governments to punish smaller players that want to free workers, creators, audiences and customers from walled gardens. It also hands them a whip-hand over their workers, so that any worker who refuses to aid in these nefarious plans can be easily fired:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

A world with intermediaries is a better world. As much as I love Crad Kilodney's books, I wouldn't want to live in a world where the only books on my shelves came from people prepared to stand on a street-corner wearing a "FOUL PUS FROM DEAD DOGS" sign.

The problem isn't intermediaries – it's powerful intermediaries. That's why the world's surging antitrust movement is so exciting: by reinstating competition law, we can keep intermediaries small and comparatively weak, so that creators and audiences, drivers and riders, sellers and buyers, and other groups seeking to connect will not find themselves made subservient to middlemen.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#intermediation

#pluralistic #intermediation #disintermediation #publishing #creative labor #middlemen #distributors #publishers #publicists #enshittification #monopoly #monopsony #crad kilodney #trustbusting #antitrust

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mrvlbimbo · 2 years

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Eddie fic? where poor baby is a virgin but his not-girl-friend is more than happy to let him give her head for ‘practice’?

Heheh Heheheh. I’m cackling evilly because I’ve just been waiting all day for something like this. I’ve got another one I’m working on rn where the reader is a virgin so now I’ve got like little matching prompts.

Practice makes perfect

you’re both already high as a kite when you catch that something is bothering him.

“Eds. What’s wrong?” You coo, grabbing him from the other side of the couch and tugging him into your arms. You always were more affectionate when you’re high.

But then again you were also more affectionate with Eddie in general . There was something there but neither of you had taken the time to define it.

Basically your relationship extended to kissing once or twice when you were high but never when you’re sober, and not talking about it under any circumstances.

He can’t keep a secret so he blurts it out immediately. “Imavirgin”

“I didn’t quite catch that.” You giggle at his random burst of shyness which was so unusual for him.

“Please don’t make me say it again?” He begged. You couldn’t say no to him when he begged.

“Ok. So what’s the problem?”

“What if I’m bad at it?”

“You’ll be fine. You just kinda stick your dick in there and wiggle it around.” You shrugged, not seeing why he was so worried about this when he was usually so confident.

“Ohhhkay but like what about the other stuff. Like if I want to finger her or… eat her out.” You might have been imagining it but he sounded almost whiney when he said the last part.

“I don’t know man, practice I guess.”

“Yeah. Ladies are just lining up around the block to have my tongue inside of them.” He said it sarcastically but frankly you couldn’t understand why that wasn’t true.

“You could practice on me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah why not. I’m not super into the ole sloppy toppy myself but I’m sure I could teach you a few things.”

“Right now?”

“I mean I don’t have any other plans.”

Soon you had kicked off your jeans and he was cradled between your hips, observing your thighs and covered pussy. “Do you usually do it with these on?” He asked, running his index finger over the seam of her panties.

“Fuck,” you gasp out at the featherlight contact. He looks up blinking at you with wide eyes, worried he did something wrong. “No. I just thought you might like to take them off yourself.”

He didn’t mean to but he whimpered a little when you said that.

He practically rips the fabric off of you once he gets the ok, anxious to get to the task at hand.

When he doesn’t start doing anything, you’re about to make some snappy comment and then you remember all this is new to him.

“Eds. You’re doing so good already.” He almost cums when he hears that, not so subtly grinding against the couch beneath him.

Finally, he brings his mouth to your cunt. His licks are tentative but that doesn’t stop you from tangling a hand in his hair when he brushes your clit.

He perks up at that, once again looking to you for confirmation he was doing ok. You nodded and he still seemed like he was waiting for something.

Then it hit you, he wanted to be praised. He went back to work and when he hit that spot again you whined loudly. “So good. Right there!”

He was vigorous after that, taking in every sound and twitch of your body to figure out exactly what was working.

It didn’t take long for him to draw an orgasm out of you. He was surprised by it, licking up all the release he could before resting his head on your lower stomach and looking up at you.

“Did I do good?” he asked, bright sparkling eyes blown wide with lust.

“Yeah.”

“Can I do that again?”

“Yeah,” you repeated

And so he did it again, eating you out like a man starved this time. Now he knew exactly what both of you liked it wasn’t practice anymore, it was a victory lap.

He reached up for your fingers that were clutching the side of the couch tightly and intertwined them with his. It was oddly romantic for the situation but you’d allow it if it meant feeling his warm hand in yours.

Soon you were about to cum again, dizzy and twitching from overstimulation. This time is was a softer climax, your body weakly wracking with waves of pleasure as he thrusted against the couch in turn.

“Wow,” you gasped, not having ever experienced anything quite like that.

when he crawled back up to lay in your arms you didn’t think before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, avoiding the area around his mouth which was covered in your cum.

He nuzzled his head into your neck and sighed “thank you” prompting you both to fall asleep for the night, very satisfied.

A/N hellllo lovely ppl, I just wanted to let y’all know im looking to write for Steve and Hopper aswell so my inbox is open for anything you want to send abt them

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things season 4

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russos-ventitre · 6 months

Text

alessia russo x reader | lezioni di italiano III 🧸

✘ summary: you have a breakthrough with your emotions and it scares you

✘ warnings/tags: friends to lovers, angst, reader is mid-20s, AWFC!reader, ItalyWNT!reader

✘ words: 2717

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part i ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part ii

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part iii

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part iv

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part v

a/n: translations provided as always!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tre

Three weeks later...

Another week meant another lot of lessons, continuing to teach Alessia your mother tongue, moving past the basics and onto more intermediate stuff. She was really starting to get the hang of things, happy to switch from English to Italian mid-conversation when she sensed that's what you wanted. She was very charming in that respect, her confidence growing alongside her vocabulary.

The blonde would come over multiple times a week and listen to you go on and on about the weird rules of the Italian language, why words had to be ordered in a certain way, how the language was mostly phonetic with a few exceptions, and a few other annoying things that you wouldn't really know unless you were a native.

Nonetheless, she never got bored of listening to your lecture or rant, or sometimes both, bouncing from thought to thought as you remembered a new thing, probably confusing the hell out of the poor girl.

You paused your lecture to walk into the kitchen, your throat dryer than a desert from all your talking, grabbing a glass of water, you chugged nearly the entirety of it. Letting out a sigh as you stared out the window in front of your sink, watching as the rain slid down the pane. You watched as the droplets slid down the glass, allowing yourself to zone out as the faint rain provided white noise. You weren't sure why but you were feeling anxious, hands clammy, throat drying up again, despite you downing a glass moments ago, and your body slightly shaking like a chihuahua.

What is wrong with me?

You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, watching as it trembled before you gripped onto the edge of the sink. You dipped your head down, closing your eyes, letting out a deep sigh in hopes of calming your nerves. There was a hushed noise from behind you, but you couldn't make it out, brain all fuzzy and thoughts all deafening. It called out again, a bit louder this time, a bit more familiar.

"[y/n]?" A hand came to rest on your shoulder, pulling you out of your suffocating thoughts.

Your head lifted up, turning to meet her, the girl you couldn't stop thinking about, the girl that you were seemingly convinced was the reason why you'd been acting off recently.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her hand coming to wipe away a tear that had trailed down your face.

Was I crying?

"Hmm? Oh.. y-yeah.. just uh- needed a minute.. sorry.."

Alessia's eyes softened the longer she looked at you, seeing your heart aching just by looking deep into your irises. Without a word, she pulled you into a hug, you not at all having the strength to reject it and run and hide in your room. You had no idea you were crying and now that she had come and found you, seeing you in a state like this, you were completely embarrassed.

Her strong hand came to cradle the back of your head, holding you close as you had no choice but to bury your face in her shoulder, your own arms coming to grip at her back. Her other hand stroked down your thick frame, perfectly manicured nails calmingly scratching at your back. You didn't know why but the second your body made contact with hers you just felt all of the pent-up emotions you were containing just release into her arms.

"Hey.. it's okay.." She cooed, pulling you even closer, if that were at all possible, deep concern painting her features.

The striker led you to your living room, helping you settle on the sofa as she continued to hold you in her arms, your head now resting in her chest, as you tried evening out your breathing.

"Parla con me." [Talk to me.] She whispered, continuing to rub her hand down your back.

You took in a deep inhale, followed by a hiccup from crying, slowly lifting your head you faced her for the first time in what felt like ages. Tear stains decorating your face, alongside the swollenness of your eyes and redness of your cheeks.

"Mi dispiace.. stella." [I'm sorry.. star.] You started, dipping your head back down as you felt a knot form in your throat.

"..I don't know what's wrong with me.. everything just feels.. fuzzy and suffocating and loud all the time.." You shook your head slightly, feeling bad for not making sense, the blonde continuing to comfort you by rubbing your back, her eyes never leaving your face.

"..theres too many things going on right now in my head and I can't make the thoughts stop.." You sighed in defeat, slumping your head on her shoulder, without a single care on how it would only further increase your physical contact with the younger girl.

Alessia waited a minute before speaking, desperately trying to read your mind or will the pain away that was currently haunting you. "What kind of thoughts..?" She asked cautiously, afraid that the next things you might confess could be detrimental.

You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head as you weren't quite able to believe what you were about to say, knowing that you wouldn't be able to take it back once it was said and that it could possibly ruin your relationship with the blonde or worse, make the current club you're playing for, a now awkward environment.

"Tu mi piaci.." [I like you..] You murmured, hiding your face in her neck, wishing the floor would just consume you as you felt her skin turn hot.

The striker swallowed hard, feeling you go tense in her grip. "..mi piaci davvero.." [..I really like you..] You continued, hating yourself the more you spoke but knowing that you'd continue drowning in your own thoughts if you never admitted your feelings for her verbally.

She rested her head on top of yours, her hands never straying from your back. "Anche tu mi piaci davvero." [I really like you, too.] The younger girl whispered, a smile slowly forming on her lips as her face heated up.

Your breathing hitched in her arms, your eyes going wide as you tried to process if you were dreaming or not, heart racing a bit faster than it already had been. Slowly, you removed your face from hiding, locking eyes with the blonde.

"Posso baciarti?" [Can I kiss you?] You asked quietly, your demeanour becoming timid the longer you stared into her baby blues.

"Per favore.." [Please..]

Your hand delicately cupped her face, pulling her in for a soft kiss, the striker's hands holding onto your waist and pulling you in closer. Everything felt warm, everything felt natural, everything felt calm.

She kissed you tenderly, leaving you breathless as she slowly claimed your mouth. Her hand carefully manoeuvered to your back as she began to lean forward, laying you flat on your back on the sofa, never breaking the kiss. You felt your heart fall out of your arse as she lowered you into the cushioning, eyes rolling back as she took over, taking care of you with her soft lips and delicate hands. The blonde was now hovering over you, continuing to kiss you until your lips were swollen, you hands located on the younger girl's waist the entire time.

After some time she pulled up for air, her cheeks flush red and her chest panting as she looked down at you. Your face just as red as hers, maybe worse, looking back up at her to see her smiling down at you. Your hand came to caress her face, tongue weting your lip as you craved more. Both of you had only been given a taste but you already wanted more, craving each other's touch.

You hands grabbed at the collar of her hoodie, pulling her down for another breathtaking kiss, both of you happily humming into it. You felt all fuzzy inside, body melting against the material of sofa as you passionately kissed your girlfriend?

Are we official now?

Whatever the two of you were, you didn't care, you were just finally happy that you could be in her arms again, this time for an entirely different reason. And it felt so right.

The Next Morning...

As you woke up, you went to stretch out your body only to be restricted in moving your arms when you suddenly realise who was attached to you. You blushed, taking note of how adorable Alessia looked whilst attached to your body, your heart absolutely swooning when she nuzzled her face closer.

Yesterday wasn't a dream..

You ran your fingers through her golden locks, giving her light scratches on her scalp to wake her up.

"Ale-" Wait.. "..baby..?" You muttered, trying to wake her.

Woah.. that feels weird.

"Mmm.. hmm..?" The blonde groaned, not really hearing what you said as her head just barely lifted off your chest.

"How'd you sleep baby?" You asked more confidently, carding your fingers through her hair.

Alessia's head immediately perked up at the term of endearment, her cheeks heating up as she locked eyes with you. Your eyes widened at her notable sudden burst of energy.

"D-Did I say the wrong thing?" You asked panicked, worried that you were maybe going too fast.

"No no! I really like that.." She admitted, blushing harder now and trying to hide her burning face with her hair.

Your face softened, your hand trailing to her face to cup her cheek. "Sei carina.." [You're cute..] You sighed, watching her melt in your hand.

"Vieni qui.." [Come here..] You motioned, helping the blonde crawl up your body and rest her head on your chest, pressing delicate kisses to the top of it as she laid her head and hand on top of your chest.

The blonde nuzzled her face in your neck, a place that was quickly becoming her favourite place to be, pressing a soft kiss to your skin before settling.

Later that week...

It had only been a few days since the two of you became official, the both of you able to spend some time together before Arsenal camp resumed. It was nice being in each other’s company, Alessia taking it into her own hands and slowly moving into your flat, not that you were one to complain. You adored the blonde, you felt empty when she wasn't around, so having her stay at your flat was refreshing, especially when you would find some of her belongings scattered around your newly shared home. It gave you something to smile about during your day.

"Amorina.." [Little love..] You sighed, stroking your fingers through her hair.

"Hmm..?" She hummed back, smiling softly as she nuzzled herself closer to your chest.

"Are we gonna tell the team?" You questioned, feeling her head lift off your chest.

"Umm.." The blonde pursed her lips together, looking up at you. "..we can do, it's whatever you want though, love."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." She responded with a nod, pecking your lips quickly before settling back down on your chest.

"Or we can keep it to ourselves.." The taller girl continued, a hand slithering around the back of your torso to pull you closer.

"..our little secret." She giggled.

"Il nostro piccolo segreto?" [Our little secret?]

"Sì, il nostro piccolo segreto, amore mio." [Yeah, our little secret, my love.] The blonde hummed back happily.

First day back...

Alessia offered to drive the two of you to training today, especially since you stayed over at hers for the night, intentionally bringing your kit bag and all your training necessities with you. It's not like you weren't expecting the offer and you definitely were going to miss out on an opportunity for her to drive you around. The thing is you liked driving, it was nice and calming, you just weren't fully comfortable with the whole idea of driving on the other side of the road.

You happily took a seat inside the blonde's Mercedes, almost instantly feeling her hand coming to rest on your thigh as you settled into the car. Heat crawled up your neck, all the way to your cheeks as you watched her fingers gently stroke at the material covering your leg. Her eyes were fixated elsewhere, too busy fiddling with her car to notice your obvious flustered self.

"Ready to go?" She asked, pulling her sunglasses from the top of her head, onto the bridge of her nose, smiling in your direction.

"Y-Yeah.." You mumbled back, struggling to get your words out.

"Tesoro.. miei occhi sono su qui, amore." [Darling.. my eyes are up here, love.] Alessia took her other hand, tracing her fingers under your chin as she tilted it upward, finally meeting your gaze.

"Tutto bene?" [Everything okay?] She tilted her head down slightly, allowing her sunglasses to slide down the bridge of her nose, revealing her ocean-blue eyes.

"Mmm." You nodded back, lips pursed together as her fingers continued to linger below your chin.

"Parole, amore." [Words, love.] The striker muttered back, only further making you blush.

"I'm okay baby.. promise." You smiled back shyly, knowing full well that she was doing all this to wind you up right before training.

"Good." She hummed back, pulling you in for a breathless kiss before swiftly pulling away to reverse out of the driveway, you sat in the passenger seat feeling all dizzy from your quick exchange.

Entering the building with Alessia, standing very closeby her, earned the two of you a lot of knowing looks and a few hushed whispers. Everyone had their eyes on you two, some faint 'oooohs' and some light teasing towards you both occurred throughout the entire day. To say that the team didn't know was a lie, people sensed something between the two of you the minute you transferred to the club. It was almost like you and Alessia were the last two to know about it.

"So.. you and Less.." Victoria started, slinging an arm around your shoulders as the two of you walked back inside.

"-stop.. she was just doing me a favour.." You brushed her off, shaking your head as you looked at the ground.

"Tell that to the smile plastered on your face.."

"Vaffanculo Pelova.." [Fuck off..] You muttered, watching as the brunette ran over to gossip with the other girls.

You gathered your belongings, changing out of your dirty kit, before making your way towards your blonde lover, sitting in front of her cubby as she packed her own things away.

"Pronti?" [Ready?] You asked, arms resting on your legs as you looked up at her with a smile. You weren't exactly going out of your way to pretend like you weren't head over heels in love with the girl, although your tough exterior was softening anytime you were around her and it wasn't going unnoticed by your teammates.

"Quasi, tesoro." [Almost, darling.] She muttered back, shoving the last few bits of her things in her kitbag before slinging it over her shoulder. Luckily the two of you were alone so you were able to be yourselves in front of each other, but that didn't mean that someone couldn't walk in at any given moment.

When she finished, she blindly reached her hand out in front of you, you happily lacing your fingers with hers, lightly pressing a kiss to her knuckles as you stood up. She peered her head out of the dressing room, seeing if anyone was still around, before guiding you out into the corridor.

"Really.." Leah snorted, unable to hide the shit-eating grin on her face as she watched the two of you slowly make your exit, both of your faces bright red.

Alessia swiftly turned around, hiding herself behind you, hand still laced with your own. "You scared the shit out of me Leah!" Your girlfriend whined, resting her chin on your shoulder.

"Don't you dare Williamson." You spoke sternly, watching as she laughed quietly to herself.

"I won't.. go on then you two." She waved her hand, ushering for the both of you to leave.

"..I think a certain Meado owes me 25 quid.." She mumbled to herself as she watched you wrap an arm around Alessia, protectively pulling her close to your body.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎← part ii ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏part iv →

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #woso #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagines #engwnt x reader #england women #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #awfc #awfc x reader

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konigsblog · 9 months

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könig analysis, and mentions on him in relationships

i described könig's analysis in this post, and i want to add onto it with a description of how he'd be in a relationships.

mentions of smut (brief and not detailed), arguments and difficulty with self worth.

könig isn't a shy person, like i previously, he's more socially anxious and standoffish, making himself seem more confident in busy situations and cringing about it when he gets home because it feels unnatural. i don't think he'd hate outside dates, prefers something like a picnic or cooking for you, doesn't like the loud noises taking away the attention he gives you.

he also wants to be himself around you, to show you how loving he can be and not some fake personality he puts on to hide his vulnerability to being in loud situations, not that he's shy, but that he's uncomfortable about the glares he gets for his height, or the comments on his stature.

also, not that he hates his height - loves using it to his own advantage in the midst of a mission, but on leave, he's more uncomfortable the the looks he's given. being builied and tormented as a kid gave him insecurities, so people making comments on his appearance, even if it's with good intentions, may make him feel iffy, not good at taking compliments.

he's a very passionate lover, his love language being words of affirmation and physical touch, though he's worried that he may hurt you accidentally because he doesn't realise his strength if he's too distracted. he'd beat himself up if he hurt you badly, something in the back of his mind making guilt bloom in his chest, despite how you told him it was alright. if it's something minor, he'll be more careful with his touch, worried about holding you just incase

he's not submissive, he prefers being in control since in his line of work, being in control means well and means that he can do better, if he lets the enemy take control then he's vulnerable. people may disagree with this, but he doesn't whimper, he's a grunter. have you heard his voice lines? he growls and groans, they're dry, he pants as well.

doesn't really like you being insecure because he knows what it feels like. he's familiar with the feeling of not being happy with what you see in the mirror, or the person looking back at him. he never told his mother when something was bothering him, especially if it was insecurities because he was worried that she'd feel bad. and i also believe he either grew up poor and without a father, or with a workaholic father, still unsure.

he likes the intimate feeling of washing his significant other, rubbing the soap down your back and lathering shampoo to your scalp. enjoys when you pamper him because he usually doesn't take a lot of care of his skin, mainly hidden with a mask, or he feels as if he doesn't deserve anything nice - the reason being that he's viewed by a monster; mothers who hide their children, or the enemies he's murdered and left hundreds of families without a family member, or the way people stare at him as if he's abnormal.

könig does struggle with his self worth, but when you massage his back after a long, failed and unsuccessful mission, he can't help but feel grateful for your time. i also believe that since he struggles with his self worth, he blames himself for others struggles. a failed mission is his fault, the only way to take his anger out is yelling at recruits for their mistakes, throwing his insecurities in their face and making them feel worthless to release some rage and guilt he's built up.

probably has anger issues stemmed from his childhood, never accepted. he needs a punching bag and the only people he can take that out on without feeling too bad is the annoying recruits who are always in his office asking for help, thinks their useless because they can't do one thing correctly. and during arguments with you, he struggles to contain his anger, so he usually says stuff he doesn't mean, anything. it could range from offensive words about your appearance, to blaming you for his struggles, despite how you'd so desperately tried to help him.

it makes him sick when he realises what he's done, and will act cold because he doesn't believe that he's worth anything, distancing himself from you out of fear that you'd never forgive him, or even look at him in the eye. he watches as you curl yourself into a ball, and hide your face from him, quietening down once he realises what he's done. but, he doesn't immediately feel guilty because he's still in that mindset that he's correct, and like i said about him taking his anger out on others, he doesn't like taking the blame for anything he does wrong so it's hard for him to say that, yes, it was his fault.

i really hate when people make könig out to be as some little boy who's dumb and has no idea was he's doing, who's sensitive and cries a lot, or needs a teddy. it's not him, or his character. i don't mind when you have your own headcannons, but that's just not how he's portrayed. “and they said i couldn't be a sniper...” he knows he's good, and he knows how it's his inability to stay still mixed with his height that keep him from being his dream, not his skills. he doesn't think it's fair. he gains a lot of confidence during and after a mission, especially if it's successful, its the thrill that keeps him going for a couple hours and makes him more witty and cocky with his peers after. up until he's tired and upset about the amount of rookies in his office, screaming in their faces since he's exhausted and needs a coffee or something, a load of reports needed to be filled.

#orla speaks #könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #cod konig #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig #modern warefare ii #call of duty modern warfare

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angryschnauzer · 1 year

Text

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 7

Summary: Finding a new life in a new town, you stumble upon a Honey farmer at the town market. You both have pasts that have shaped the way you now live your lives, but can you find a way of putting them behind you to find happiness?

Pairing: ‘Lucas’ Syverson x Female Reader

Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sandcastle (Movie).

Ongoing Genre: Fluff, Angst, and Smut

Story Warnings: Slight Angst, Talk of a car accident in the past, Anxious Sy, Mild Embarrassment, First Date Nerves, Kissing, NSFW, 18+, Smut, Fingering, Grinding, Hot Tub Frolics, Handjob, Titty Sucking, Nudity, Blowjob, Oral Sex.

Chapter 7 Warnings: Graphic descriptions of an abusive relationship, descriptions of domestic violence, description of murder attempt. NSFW, 18+, Smut, Blowjob

Wordcount: 3114

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6,

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 7

Sy's truck crunched over the gravel of his driveway as he pulled into the covered parking spot at the side of his cabin. As he shut the engine off you could hear Akia barking when she recognised the sound of the engine, Sy gently patting your leg;

"She's going to be so excited to see you"

He smiled, but you could see the concern in his eyes. Back at your cottage Tamara had arrived in a tornado of hugs and reassurances, but it'd done little to calm your nerves over the fact your abuser had not only finished his parole and was allowed to leave the state, was hundreds of miles off route for what he said his destination was, and you knew how he'd always insisted on taking the most direct route anywhere he went, even if it meant dangerous roads in bad weather.

The first few spots of rain started to hit the ground and you felt Sy squeeze your thigh;

"As much as i'd like to see that pretty little dress of yours go see through in the rain lets not hang around, once Akia gets wet she stinks the cabin out with wet mutt scent"

Smiling you hopped out, Sy grabbing the bag you'd hastily packed with some clothes and your laptop, the pair of you running quickly to the front door, Sy darting out to the yard to release Akia from her leash before the pair of them ran back under the cover of the porch. The big dog was all wriggles when she saw you, a now familiar face in her life. You petted her and gave her fuss as Sy moved around his cabin, switching lamps on and getting you settled in. He lifted your bag and pointed hooked his thumb to his bedroom;

“I’m gonna put this in here, i’ve cleared a drawer for you to keep your stuff in”

You could feel a lump form in your throat at his gesture, the casual thoughtfulness something you weren't used to in a relationship.

Once he'd dropped your bag he pulled you into his arms, enveloping you in his strength and warmth. You felt like the worries of the world slipped away whilst you were in that cocoon of his arms, that the big wide world was just a bad dream. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and pulled back, waiting for you to meet his gaze;

"Dinner and a movie? Or dinner and talk?"

"Dinner and talk"

Your meal had been quick and easy, but no less delicious. Sy had made garlic bread from a loaf he'd baked that morning, combined with what Antonio had gifted him from the restaurant; fresh burrata cheese which had been drizzled with delicate honey and sprinkled with chopped pistachio nuts.

With the dishes cleaned away the two of you had curled up together on the couch, your time to explain your past had finally arrived;

"We met in college, James was a Senior when I was a Freshman. I didn't have that much experience with boys so I was flattered that he was interested… turns out he wanted someone he could control. We got married over the Summer between my Junior and Senior years, and when it came to returning for the Fall semester James started to change. He would have my timetable synced with his phone, and if I was more than 2 minutes late getting out of class he would start the mind games and accuse me of cheating. So many times Tamara walked me to his car and wouldn't leave until James accepted that class ran over. That worked fine until she had to have her workplace assignments in the Summer semester and wasn't around campus… that's when the hitting started."

You heard Sy exhale through his nose but didn't look to his face, you weren't ready and still had more to tell;

"James would never hit me when we were in public, he would just act like the perfect husband, but the second the front door to our apartment shut…" you paused, the memory of it causing you to tense; "He would hit me, just the once each time, but he'd use his fist and hit me in my back. The pain was excruciating. He knew exactly where to hit to cause the most prolonged pain, but to make it look like an accidental injury, that i'd fallen on something. There was one time…" your voice started to waiver but you paused and took a deep breath; "I'd gotten a ride home with Tamara as he'd had to work late, but because i'd invited her in for a coffee he was furious as hadn't 'checked' with him in advance. Tam was in the bathroom whilst i was rinsing some dishes in the kitchen, i heard footsteps but thought it was her, only for him to just come up behind me and land a punch in the center of my back. That was the beginning of the end if i'm being honest as Tam walked in whilst my legs were buckling. I'd learnt not to cry, i just compartmentalised and disassociated when it happened by that point"

You finally looked up at Sy and it almost broke your heart. He was blinking away the tears, you hadn't even considered that what you were saying would be difficult for someone who cared about you to hear;

"Sy, it's ok. It's over now"

He let out a very shaky sigh, nodding;

"I know Honey, but I just… I mean, we all have our emotional scars, but you're just so strong now. I'm sorry you went through that"

You reached out for him and he pulled you onto his lap, pressing his forehead to yours and laying a light kiss to the end of your nose to which you looked up at him;

"Do you need a break?"

"A break?"

"Before i tell you the rest"

He paused, before shaking his head;

"No, it's good that we get this all done in one go"

"Tam at that point pulled me aside at school one day, and with the help of our student support made me realise that what was happening wasn't my fault. Her husband was a cop and on his day off, he explained plainly what kind of evidence would be needed for an arrest and conviction, and at that point they helped me set up Nanny cameras"

"So you took that to the cops?"

"Not quite. It was around Thanksgiving and we'd travelled upstate to see his parents. The roads were icy and even after his Dad had said he shouldn't drive after drinking, he still insisted we head home. On a narrow road we spun out going over a bridge and the car ended up in the river below. The car was half submerged and when the cops arrived they found James first and pulled him out, but as they did the car got caught in the current and was washed over a waterfall. James had said there was no-one else in the car…"

"Fuck" Sy's voice was quiet; "How did you…"

"How did they realise I was still in the car? James was still drunk so when he was in the back of the ambulance he let slip that he hadn't been alone. The EMT's radioed back to the cops that were still on scene and they went into the water and pulled me out. They rushed me to the ER in their cruiser as by that point hypothermia had set in"

"You're not angry that they missed you the first time?"

Thinking about Sy's question you considered your thoughts before shaking your head;

"No, it wasn't their fault. It was dark and they'd had verbal confirmation from the driver that no one else was in the vehicle. If anything it increases my anger and hatred for my abuser" you paused; "but that doesn't diminish the feelings of fear i get of him being anywhere near me"

"How did you get away from him in the end?"

"The cops arrested him for driving under the influence whilst he was in hospital. When the statements of the First Responders came in about how he'd lied about me not being in the vehicle they added attempted manslaughter. My emergency contact was Tam so when the hospital called her she brought the evidence from the Nanny cams too. It was enough to get him locked up until trial as no-one posted bail"

Sy was silent for a long time, thinking over what you’d told him and he was absolutely positive that you had held back on a lot of the details, but that didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was that you were safe with him and he’d do everything in his power to keep you safe;

“So you haven’t seen him since that night?”

You shook your head;

“I testified via videolink. The city had a great public defender that made sure domestic violence survivors didn’t have to face their abusers in person. Tam testified in person and said that James tried to stare her down the entire time, but she just ignored him. He was sentenced to 4 years but got out after 3 for ‘good behaviour’, however throughout the whole time he sent threatening letters to my old address. The second he was released he was served with the restraining order. He’s not allowed to come within 200ft of me or my property”

“Does he know where you live?”

“I don’t think so, but the fact that he has entered the state has enough to make sure i don’t turn my back to a room at the moment, at least not until i know he’s heading in the opposite direction.”

There was a moment of silence before he pulled you to his chest and you instinctively hooked your nose beneath his chin. Warm hands smoothed over your back, comforting you. You felt like you were in a cocoon, safe and secure where nothing could threaten you or all you’d worked so hard for. With the brush of Sy’s beard on your face you relaxed to the point of slumber, drifting off into a calm and peaceful sleep.

When you woke it was dark, the warm embrace of Sy’s arms still around you, but this time you could tell you were in his bed. Twisting onto your side you smiled wearily and fell back into a deep safe sleep.

The sound of a shower woke you a second time, soft pale daylight of the early morning hinted at the windows of the cabin. Turning you realised you were alone in the bed, slipping silently out from beneath the covers you had a thought and a smile spread over your face. Quickly locating your bag you pulled a shower cap from your wash bag and pulled it on, before shedding your clothing and stepping into the steamy bathroom.

You could see the outline of Sy’s tall body where the window on the other side of the bath cast a silhouette through the shower curtain. He turned towards the shower and you could tell he had raised his face into the water, so now was your time to strike. Crossing the small room you carefully pulled the far end of the shower curtain and carefully stepped into the old enamel tub. As you pulled the curtain back in place one of the metal rings clinked against the rail, making you freeze, your eyes darting to Sy who still stood with his back to you, his face in the jets of water, and he let out a little chuckle;

“Honey, if you think you can sneak up on me you’ve got another thing comin’”

He turned and grinned at you, watching you watch him as the soapy bubbles trailed down his body. You couldn’t help but to gratuitously look at Sy in all his naked glory. You missed the smirk tug at the corner of his mouth as he watched you watching him, instead your gaze was transfixed upon the slow creep of his hands as he started to softly tug at his dick, watching it start to swell and grow from its already impressive state. Taking a single step forwards closed the space between you, tilting your head as your mouths met for a brutal kiss, whilst your hand moved to join his, wrapping around his hot girth.

When you pulled away from his lips, Sy let out a small whimper of loss, before watching as you got to your knees, never breaking eye contact. He was hot and heavy in your hand, filling your grasp as you moved your fist up and down. Tentatively you leaned forwards, taking just the tip into your mouth and letting your tongue lave against the smooth red tip.

Sy let out a strangled groan and his knees trembled a little, his hand shooting out to rest against the windowsill whilst the other settled atop your head;

“Baby… please…” he begged quietly.

Staring into those ice blue eyes you opened your mouth and took him as deep as you could, relishing the feel of marble beneath silk, his hardness growing until your cheeks were filled and your throat was cut off from precious air. With what little room you had left in your mouth you worked your tongue softly against the underside, the thick ridge of muscle that ran the length pulsing under your ministrations.

You wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft, grasping him tightly as you moved your head back and forth, letting saliva pool in your mouth and escape from the corners of your lips.

“Oh fuck…” Sy cursed; “That’s so good, get me nice and sloppy, such a good girl”

Sy cupped your cheek, his hand moving back to the top of your head, unsure where to put his hands. Reaching up you grabbed both and pulled them down until they were resting on the back of your head, nodding slightly so he got the message that it was ok.

“Oh god… you’re fucking perfect” he muttered as he started to rock his hips back and forth just a little, fucking your mouth as you relaxed your jaw a little more; “So fucking perfect… look at you with my dick in your mouth, feels so good, that’s it girl, take it deeper”

On a couple of thrusts he got just a fraction too deep and you could feel your eyes start to water, but thankfully your gag reflex behaved itself. You rested your hands on the tops of Sy’s thighs, the muscles tense beneath your touch, and you could tell he was getting close. Slipping one hand between his legs you softly cupped his balls and was rewarded with a guttural groan from above;

“Fuck… do that again and i’m gonna cum down your pretty throat”

Maintaining eye contact you did exactly that, softly cupping and cradling his balls in your palm. You heard him groan as they pulled tight to his body, then the tell tale tremble of cum travelling through his shaft before that salty splash as it hit your tongue. Quickly swallowing he finished on your tongue, pulling free of your mouth as his hand flew to the windowsill and his knees wobbled. His other hand hooked under your arm, helping you to your feet until he could pull you flush to his chest, kissing you fiercely before you pushed him away;

“Sy! I haven’t even brushed my teeth, you’ll be tasting yourself!”

“Nothin’ wrong with that Honey, just a reminder that you were kind enough to do that for me” he let out a contented sigh, before his demeanor immediately changed and he let out a string of ‘OH’s. Quickly spinning around he shut the water off before turning back to you;

“Hot water just ran out… it’s gonna be a while before the tank refills i’m afraid. I know you don’t like cold water…”

With a smile you were thankful for his actions, even in the post orgasmic haze he was probably in;

“No problem”

At that moment a series out loud woof’s and barking came from the other side of the door;

“Uh-oh, need to let Akia out, she only gets like that when she’s gotta ‘go’ go”

It didn’t take long until you had dried off what parts of you had gotten wet and dressed in yoga pants and loose t-shirt loaned from Sy, assuring him that you were fine by yourself for the half hour it would take him to walk Akia across the meadow as he did the morning check on the beehives. Setting your laptop up on the small desk in the back of Sy’s bedroom, you plugged your headphones in so you could listen to the morning zoom meeting.

It was 45 minutes later when you glanced at the time in the corner of your screen and you realised that Sy wasn’t back, your stomach grumbled so you decided to seek out some coffee. Switching your wireless headphones to connect to your playlist, you were in your own little world as you wandered into the kitchen, turning the corner only to be greeted by a stranger leaning into the fridge. Shocked blue eyes stared at you from behind floppy dark hair, a youthful attempt at stubble dusted over the stranger’s face. You let out a scream, stumbling back until your hip touched the table as you scrambled for something to protect yourself with, your fingers curling around the handle of the iron skillet Sy had seasoned on the stove the previous night. Holding it up like a baseball bat you yelled;

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

The young man dropped the slice of cooked bacon he had been about to eat, holding his hands up in surrender;

“Okay crazy lady, i could say the same about you”

“I asked first!” you demanded, shaking the pan a little, before suddenly the back door of the cabin opened, Akia running in and making a beeline for the dropped bacon, Sy standing in the doorway as both you and the startled young man faced off in his kitchen.

Crossing the room to you in just a few strides, Sy pulled the skillet from your grasp, trying but failing to contain his amusement;

“Darlin’, i want you to meet Mike, Walter’s kid”

Your eyes went wide;

“This is Walter’s son?”

You looked to the man by the fridge who had now shut the door and was giving Akia ear scratches as she leant against his leg;

“Sure am Sweetcheeks”

Chapter 8 >>>

#as sweet as honey #syverson x reader #syverson smut #henry cavill

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

Note

If you're doing Welcome Home...

An Obsessive Yandere Home that has a loving reader trapped inside them

Ooo, okay so just to clarify, I'll only ever write yandere stuff for Home (the character), not Wally

.........

The first signs of Home's obsession over you were subtle, yet noticeable by Wally.

Any time he even mentioned you visiting, their window and door hinges would creak loudly with excitement, their eyes scouring for any sign of you coming over the horizon.

"Ha, ha, ha. I know..I'll be happy to see them too, Home." He smiles. "Have a little patience."

It's because every time you come over, you're always helping him tidy up the place, treating this house like it was your own. You could tell they appreciated every gesture.

Every frame you adjusted. Every window you shined. Every little critter you caught and released back outside...Home could sense it.

Yet when you had to leave, they would become sad, anxious that one day you won't come back to them...and soon this sadness turned to rage after Wally gently told them you simply can't stay here 24/7.

Suddenly, they began hating it whenever he cleaned up, turning against their own owner.

They'd distort the floorboards so he'd trip while sweeping, accumulate more dust in places he just cleaned off, and even cause tremors that cracked the mirror he just shined.

But he's not dumb. He knows it's because he doesn't clean the way you do, yet he doesn't understand..

How could Home possibly love you more than him? They've grown up together in the neighborhood!

That being said, he's hesitant to let you come over again, thinking Home needed some time away from you.

Yet the house creaked all night long, keeping him up, and he had no choice but to cave and invite you over.

He tries acting like nothing is wrong, but breaks when you see how disheveled he looks and ask if he's alright.

"[Y/n]..I don't think H-Home is-"

But Wally doesn't get another word out as a mysterious force yanks him out of the house, and he tumbles onto the front lawn.

The last thing he sees before Home slams their door shut is an expression of horror on your face.

"Home, this is not very neighborly of you. Let them out, please!" He demands, knocking on the door, trying to find a way inside. But they have locked every possible entrance.

He tried negotiating with them all day, apologizing over and over for anything he might've done or said to upset them, and promising that you can move in if it makes them happy.

They don't answer him anymore, staying completely silent as though they were an inanimate house like all the others.

By sunset, Wally's at Barnaby's house, freaking out as he races to the phone to call you...only for the line to be completely dead.

It turns out Home cut the phone cord, too, and their eyes are only focused inside...on you now. They don't care for Wally nor the outside world anymore.

You've been trying to make the best of this scary situation by gently cleaning the strange black goop that kept leaking from their eyes. It seemed never ending.

You didn't understand why they'd turn against Wally like this. But...you couldn't entirely hate them for keeping you locked in here.

They were just...very attached.

Sooner or later, they'll have to let you go..right?

#clanask #anonymous #welcome home x reader #welcome home home #yandere #tw yandere #headcanons

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creative-caramel-coffee · 6 months

Text

Exam Anxiety Sickness

Pairings: Weems x Thornhill x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: reader worries about her exam to a point of sickness

TW: extreme anxiety, vomiting,

A/n before any of you say this isn’t possible, I had a friend that used to get anxious to the point they threw up so…. Yeah. Also, for once I’m not projecting, I’m actually doing ok at my exams :)

Standing in your dorm you did up the last button on your school shirt.

“You will be fine. You studied. You studied hard. You will be fine.” You said to yourself, looking into the mirror with a stern expression. But it didn’t help, not really. You still couldn’t stop the fast thoughts. What if you studied the wrong stuff? What if you blank on the easiest questions? What ifs were running wild in your mind. Making your anxious nature their plaything.

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes trying to stave off the thoughts, drawing a shaky breath and emitting an even shakier exhale. It worked for a second, but that second was fleeting. And when that second was over the thoughts were back and they were angry.

“It's just botany Y/n” you said looking in the mirror. “It's only 50% of your final grade. You will be ok. You will be ok. Ok? Ok.” You said not really believing any of it. You wrung your hands and took another breath. You were pale from lack of sleep and virtually no time outside as you had spent every hour studying.

You slipped on the mask you wore everywhere, every day, all the time. The calm look on your face did nothing to reflect your inner termoil.

Shoving your hands into the blazer you looked yourself up and down, picking off any lint and grabbed your bag before leaving.

You felt too anxious to eat, the gnawing in your stomach making you feel sick. But you knew if you were hungry in the exam, it would be harder to focus. So, you choked back a few mouthfuls of Mac and cheese in the cafeteria, scraping the rest into the bin and returning the tray before leaving.

Slowly you walked towards the botany classroom. You knew if you didn’t pass this exam your whole future would implode. Gone before it even really started. You wanted to be a Botanist; plants were something that always fascinated you. It ran in your family, gardening. But to get into the course you wanted the expected grade was very, very high. So, you had no margin for error. None. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Nicht. Nine. Keine.

Slowing your pace your stomach flipped something awful. You pressed a hand to your midsection to try and ease the feeling, to no avail. The thoughts pounded in your head, and you felt a migraine coming on. Suddenly your stomach lurched again as the food you had eaten earlier settled in an awkward and awful way.

You felt the blood drain from your face, and you did your best to level your breathing which was coming hard and fast.

Doing your best to stay upright against the efforts of the sudden dizziness you felt you hurried as fast as you could to the nearest bathrooms which just happened to be the ones closest to the conservatory. Pushing the door open with the flat of your palm, your other hand gingerly resting over your stomach as if it would help (it didn’t in the slightest), you rushed into the closest stall trying to get to the toilet in time. dumping your bag on the ground and pitching forwards you heaved, nothing but dry retching at first as you gaged. You felt awful. After nothing happened you drew a deep breath and tried to release it slowly. After a second you let your guard down. Big mistake. In rapid succession things deteriorated.

You gaged again, throwing up properly this time. The small amount of food you had managed coming back up. After you were done you coughed and spat out the foul taste. Sitting back on your hunches where you still knelt infornt of the toilet you felt a hand come and rub your back gently. You startled at the touch, not having heard anyone enter over the sound of you retching.

“Better?” A voice asked and you froze mind working hard to catch up with what was happening.

Marilyn Thornhill, your botany teacher was crouched behind you softly rubbing the small of your back with the flat of her hand.

After an awkward second you unfroze and gave a weak nod. Your brain finally catching up enough to spiral again.

“Sorry I’m … I’m not late for the test …am I?” You asked, turning to face her.

“Oh, honey there’s no way you’re doing that test.” Ms Thornhill said gently. “Can you stand sweatpea?” She asked and you nodded. “Good. Good.” She said. “Ok, you come come honey.” And with that she pulled you up. One hand on your waist to make sure you didn’t fall over. Gently she moved you out of the way, reaching over and flushing the toilet.

“Oh honey.” She said looking back at you. “Are you sick?”

“N-no.” You said fidgeting. She took your hands in hers.

“Honey, don’t lie to me.”

“I-I’m not. I-i just…”

“Just what sweet girl?” And when you didn’t meet her gaze and shook your head she sighed softly.

“Let me take you to the nurse” she said placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you from the bathroom, your bag on her shoulder. “We can do the test another day or just … I’m sure we can come up with something.” She said not taking her eyes off you. Your eyes however stayed trained on the floor as you walked.

Not watching where you were going you felt her grab your arm and stop you. At that you looked up, eyes meeting with the sky-blue eyes of your principal.

“Marilyn, how are you?” Larissa asked before turning to you, her smile faltering as she took in your state. “Y/n? Are you ok?”

Before you could respond your teacher gave you a stern look and spoke before you.

“No. No, she’s not.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, whats the matter? Can i help?” Ms Weems asked.

“I was just accompanying Ms L/n to the nurse before she could run off.” Your teacher said giving you upper arm a soft rub for comfort.

“I wouldn’t ‘run off’” you muttered kicking the dirt, both teachers frowned.

“Whats the matter? If you don’t mind me asking.” The principal asked.

“Im-“

“She threw up.” The botanist cut in before you could say you were fine.

“Oh dear. Well Marilyn I’m sure you have classes, i can escort Y/n myself.” Weems said and the botanist nodded and handed her your bag. They both said their goodbyes and weems took your arm, leading you to the infirmary.

“Ms Weems i assure you this really isn’t necessary.” You began and she shook her head.

“I would hate to find out what you deem ‘necessary’ then y/n” she said, and you scoffed making her raise an eyebrow. “Do enlighten me then.” She said.

“Well i wouldn’t say the results of my test anxiety requires a visit to the infirmary.” You huffed and she stopped dead in her tracks.

“You mean to tell me you were so stressed about your exam … it made you physically sick?” She said looking both shocked and worried. You bit your lip, looking away and nodding.

“Alright.” She said slowly and turned around. “Come.” She said and you frowned and followed.

“Where are we going?”

“My office. It seems you don’t need any more stress right now and the best place would be somewhere quiet and calm. My office luckily fits those descriptors.”

“B-but the test?” You stammered.

“Is no longer of importance darling.” She said and you swallowed and nodded, giving into the stern look she gave you. Almost straight after you lamented, she smiled, her features softening.

“Good. Well, let's go. I can make us some tea or hot chocolate?” She asked.

“Hot chocolate please.” You murmured as she opened the door gesturing for you to go first.

“Coming right up darling.” She said and disappeared as you sat on the couch. She returned a moment later with the drinks. And with that you began to relax. Feeling better by the minute. You made small talk with the principal, enjoying her company immensely.

Meanwhile Larissa was scheming all the ways she could tease Marilyn for stressing her students out to the point it made them sick. As if Marilyn hadn’t been run down with a cold herself the past week due to stress. It seems you stressed each-other out. Maybe she needed to organise some sort of vacation for teachers and students.

MASTERLIST

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collectivecloseness · 2 years

Text

Love Languages: Eddie Munson

A list of Eddie Munson’s love languages, in order of favourite down ~

Words of affirmation:

Everyone is always mean to him, it started off with bullying about his wealth or parents, or the fact he was a bit of a hyperactive kid, then people calling him a freak, a weirdo, a satanist, a double repeat senior who’s a drug dealer, overall someone who’d amount to nothing, who was nothing. Even his parents weren’t really nice to him with their words, or at all.

You’re the one person (excluding Wayne) who doesn’t even call him freak as an inside joke. Like hellfire will sometimes do it because Eddie puts on that persona as a defence. But you don’t agree with him the first time he jokes about being a freak, and he never feels he has to call himself that again around you. You never once saw him as a freak, and it means a lot to have that from you.

You’re always assuring him he can do things. Not that he should, but that he is able to. Whether it’s passing a test, learning a new chord, getting through the new campaign he was actually so so anxious about. Anything and everything, you’re always his number one supporter.

You’re the only person Eddie feels like he can be vulnerable around. And Eddie’s actually pretty sensitive, he needs that release. He needed it for so long. He can cry around you, he can spill all his believed shortcomings and failures, he can wail about how screwed he feels for his future, but you’re there soothing him and reassuring him every single time. You never once fail him there, or at all.

You’re the first person in Eddie’s life to ever tell him you’re proud of him, and as soon as those words leave your lips Eddie’s gleeful smile drops and the tears fall, sure his smiling comes back as he continues to shakily hold you tight, but he’s so taken aback all by those words, and it’s like a breath of fresh air is released into his lungs. He’d never heard that before, so he’d never thought it of himself.

Having you say even little things throughout your day “I’m so proud of you. I love you. Good job! I missed you. You can do it! You’re worth it.” any praise or loving words at all just make his entire month. He never forgets a single thing like that that you tell him.

Verbal confirmation from you is everything to him. It’s beautiful having you love him in every single way, but saying those words out loud while looking into his pretty brown eyes is the number one way to get the point across of just how good he actually is, and how much you love him. Sure he knows this stuff, after a while with you, but every time you remind him by explicitly stating it, it just reignites that positive mindset inside him, that only started up when you first came into his life and spoke those kind words. He brushed you off at first with a joking “d’aww, you’re too sweet, thanks” but when you told him you were only saying it because it was the truth, that snapped something in Eddie for the first time.

He caught you looking the first time the two of you hung out alone and asked “What?” With a smile. And when you told him “You’re just... you’re beautiful.” It caused him to freeze. He again plays it off but when you tell him he is genuinely just so beautiful he doesn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t like calling him handsome or gorgeous or sexy, or even beautiful in a flirty way, it was like you were caught off guard in the moment by how genuinely beautiful Eddie was. And Eddie never considered he could be that word, beautiful, to others or himself.

And Eddie is always blabbering on to you, or anyone in earshot, about his love and affection for you.

He will literally shout it from the rooftops, or the cafeteria tables.

And not just how lovely you are as his partner, but how amazing he thinks you are as a person!

He is always telling you sweet words so much others think it’s just flirting, which it partly is, but he always means what he says to you. And he’ll give serious declarations of his love in a tone so people knew, whilst being light hearted and fond words, he was also 100% truthful with the meaning behind them.

No no no do not say a single bad thing about yourself. Eddie does not believe in bad things about you. While he lets you express yourself, he is stomping into the ground any single notion of negativity towards yourself. He will simply tell you how untrue it is, and he will smother you in a serious way with the antithesis of your foul words, he will tell you exactly what he thinks of you, which is all worshipping.

Even things that he wouldn’t see as personal accomplishments or big deals for himself, things he’s subjectively uninterested in, he’s gonna praise you for them. Just because he doesn’t care about memorising 3 poems for class, or scoring a goal in sports, or talking to some girl in class who you really wanted to know where she bought her backpack from, anything that’s even a minor accomplishment for your life, is going to be praised by Eddie. And he notices it. He picks up on everything he thinks may be important to you, even if you don’t think it is/pretend it isn’t at first.

Also flattery works with him, so something to note!

One of his pet names for you is angel, because to Eddie, you literally are an angel on earth for him. He says he thinks you were sent down from heaven, just for him, because you are the only light he’s ever known, and as soon as you came into his life, you made and make everything better. Eddie actually sometimes believes you are an angel. Maybe God doesn’t hate him. Maybe he needed a shitty first 20 years before he could be allowed to even be in the presence of someone as divine as you. You make every single thing better, and you’re Eddie’s entire world. You’re just amazing, perfect. He tells you all this and he worships you.

Physical touch:

Jfc. You are not getting away from this man. In a great way. Even though this is second he is one CLINGY motherfucker.

He doesn’t need to be around you every second of the day, but when he is, he is touchy. Eddie’s not super sexual in enclosed public spaces, like eg hellfire, (unless you wanna be wink wink) but he definitely likes kissing you at your locker. Also it annoys popular people who are the annoying couples who kiss at lockers, that the resident freak is also doing that. Mostly he just loves it though. A small part of him enjoys the feeling of normalcy you give him even though that’s what he stands against, but it’s an intrinsic need to fit in on some level, it makes him feel normal, good, worthy. Although again, he mostly just loves kissing you when he has the chance. Even when leaving for one period he’s moaning dramatically against your locker, asking for one more quick long kiss before he walks you arm in arm/arm over waist to your next class, uncaring if he’s late himself.

He doesn’t need to, but he likes to have an arm around you when he can. He’s just so happy he has a lover, a best friend, a soulmate romantically and platonically, someone who likes and loves him, and loves giving/receiving physical affection, in front of others or alone.

There are positives for him either way. In front of others means you’re not afraid to express your love for him, even if it’s a hinderance to your popularity/acceptance. You want to show that you love Eddie Munson, that Eddie Munson is loved. And you’ll walk harder paths to keep loving him.

But alone shows you’re not just doing it to show off to people that you have a boyfriend. Or it’s a possessive back off he’s mine deal. You love him in every moment, in every place. You want to be with him in his shitty trailer that stinks of weed and unmade bed, with a tv on the fritz and further away from the fun stuff in town than your own place, you want to stay alone with him, and not only kiss him, but hug him, hold onto him, let him cuddle you. You want his warmth and touch and love and you’re not afraid to show it. And boy howdy if he isn’t going to lay all his love on you. He’ll even sing the song for you while he’s completely vertically flopped on top of you, just to get you to smile as he crawls up your body to rest/play.

You let him be adorable and snuggle you and he’s so happy he can be goofy and cute and silly-needy and get all his cuddles in.

He is going to hide in your chest. There’s no escaping that. He likes stuffing his face in your dark warmth, like your neck, and hair, and armpit- even if it tickles or you think you’re sweaty, he’s not moving, saying that probably makes him burrow in more, with a dramatic played out sniff. Plus he kinda likes the smell of your sweat, it’s homely. He likes feeling safe and surrounded and loved by you, with no need to open his eyes or do anything other than be buried in you, someone who he genuinely loves so much.

He also loves skin to skin contact sometimes. It’s not necessary, a hug from you is his heaven on earth anyway, but taking his shirt off and leaning against your bare chest, both your naked arms wrapping around each other, it really lulls something deep down inside him.

Eddie hadn’t really had a hug since he was a kid, apart from a couple of instances, and all his proper hugs since his parents left when he was young have been from Wayne. The last time someone hugged him was Wayne, until you. Eddie is addicted to your hugs, especially at first. He always wants to hug you, saying hello and goodbye, or just talking to his friends in the hallway, his arms are wrapped around you and he’s hugging you from behind. And this man is not afraid to ask/beg for hugs, cuddles, snuggles, kisses, a hand to hold, he will unabashedly ask when you two are alone, because he likes the smile you give him when he’s cute asking and all. But he will definitely touch you in any and all domestic ways without needing to ask first. You two trust each other, you know and understand each other, wordlessly. He didn’t think he’d meet anyone who understood him at all, which he secretly blamed his own ‘freaky’ self for. His causal hold on you is so normal. When he’s seeing you again, even if it’s only a couple of minutes since you last were together, his hands are around you as you both continue whatever it was you were doing. Like coming back from the toilet and wrapping his arms over your shoulders, resting his cheek against your own and swaying you as you continue your conversation with Gareth, bringing up a hand to hold Eddie’s forearm as he greets you again.

Now Eddie is even hugging his band mates and friends more often, but your hugs, casual or closer, are better, even if he is a bit jokingly close with them occasionally which you all laugh at.

He will kiss you anywhere and everywhere on your body when you’re together, even if you think it’s an embarrassing or weird place he’s gonna plop a kiss on wherever’s closest, or maybe somewhere he’s never kissed you before. Maybe somewhere no ones ever kissed anyone before because it’s such an unthought about spot. But he’s not gonna leave any centimetre of you untouched, and unloved by him. Every part of your body, mind and soul has gotta be reminded by him just how much he loves you, every inch of you.

He does love receiving cheek kisses though. And he definitely hands them out a lot. They feel sweet and domestic and he likes the warm press of you against his cheek when you go on in for one. They’re a tender little gesture to him and he likes giving time to you and getting them as well, you probably only don’t get them as much because he’ll normally just peck your lips instead.

He likes kissing your hand too. He loves the whole romantic gesture of it all, and those are things he hands out constantly to you. They never lose their affect though. He’s very charming and he knows it

Eddie will lick you. You are going to be licked. In a sexy way yeah but not just that. You two are gonna be sitting in the car park together waiting for someone to pick your friend up and he’s going to swipe his tongue all the way across your cheek in a fast lick. From chin to hairline. And he’s gonna smile at you after each time he does so. He’s going to lick your hand instead of kissing it as he says hello that morning, he’s going to lick your exposed shoulder blade just because it was there and he let his caveman brain take over, he’s going to make it look like he’s kissing your cheek and going to poke the tip of his tongue there instead. He doesn’t really know what it is or care, just some part of his brain or body sees you and wants to lick sometimes, and who is he to deny the random thoughts that sprout up in his ‘weird’ brain. He also likes seeing your reaction every time he does it. Especially because it’s usually at random points when you’re so lickable, so you’re always surprised.

He may do the devil horns at Carver, and since you’re standing close by to be at his side, lick your ear/hair as his tongue’s already out. The others in school know you’re with him, even if some try to turn you away from him. Something Eddie gets a bit nervous and pretty upset at. Not angry upset, well a little angry at them, but emotionally. You may see him crying one time in the earlier stages of your relationship being public. But he knows you won’t leave him, you let him know how much you love him all the time and he loves that so much, but it is hard at first. Sometimes it all gets bottled up, but you’re always there to tell him it’s okay to cry.

It’s different than the biting though. He will randomly bite you too. Lightly, but lovingly. And it may be a quick nip, a fake gnaw, or he may hang on there until he’s drooling so much you have to yank him away. He just likes having you in his mouth, double entendre intended.

You biting or licking him back is it’s own love language though. He loves that. Please do it again it always surprises him and makes him happy when you do it back at any point. And if you’re the type of person who genuinely likes doing either of those yourself then ooh boy does he feel treated. He may fake hang his mouth open with a big grin in faux surprise or gross-outedness but the teasing is too light because he enjoys when you do it so much.

And he will definitely let you keep his fingers in your mouth if you like that too. It genuinely soothes him back, and he just likes relaxing with you as you do it, he likes watching your face mold as you take them into your mouth, likes your eyes drooping, he likes the feel of your tongue against him. Eddie loves keeping your boobs in his mouth in a relaxing way anyway, just suckling and looking up at you, so he’s very happy if either of you wanna have any part of each other in your mouths.

Whether it’s in a sexy way or not. It doesn’t have to be, he likes it either way and is genuinely happy. And Eddie’s super good at knowing boundaries way early on, he can always tell immediately what vibe is going on with you. And he definitely talks a lot about boundaries with you when you both first start to get into things, and he’s so good at those types of talks you just feel so safe with him, like nothing could ever go wrong.

Hickies hickies hickies!!! Give him hickies please! Can he give you some please? You don’t have to show them off if you don’t want to, he just adores spending time making them on you, finding the spots that make your body react in the best ways, which he always picks up on, and spending his sweet time kissing, licking, sucking, and biting down on them. He always kisses each hickey after he’s finished with it. He also likes giving hickies to your boobs, just a little one pressed to the top of your cleave or something (or all over), he thinks it’s fun.

Doesn’t matter where they are, he really wants your hickies on his skin, he wants you marked all over him, although feeling your mouth on his neck always makes his heart flip in such a thrilling happy way. And he loves loves loves walking around with your hickies all on him. Walking up to his friends at the table, getting told off by some old cranky person for nothing, going on a back and forth of wits with some asshole jock who can very clearly see the love bites not hidden at all by his hellfire shirt, some of them even visible under the white. He’s a melting moaning man as you’re making them, happily pressed against a wall with your hands on his shoulders or little waist, extending his neck for your further aid. He loves feeling you making those marks, he loves touching them afterwards, the physical feel of them, the reminder of your love sticking with him. He doesn’t mind scratches down his back or thighs in that way either.

Eddie is just a touchy guy altogether, emotionally and physically. And he always wants for the two of you to be bonded together, to be happily in each others presence, to just naturally be loving each other all the time.

Having you or him just naturally touch the other at any time is one of his biggest indicators of love, and he loves how it happens constantly!!!

Holding hands and thigh touches and even resting a hand on your knee, if you’re sitting down with other people he’s probably got a hand on you, not even thinking about it, it doesn’t even particularly mean anything he just loves you. He’s definitely leaning into your side as well if it’s a couch.

You two are always standing super close.

He likes when you put your hand on his knee when he’s bouncing his leg, or when you take his hand in his own when he’s chewing his nails. Although if he’s okay, let him fiddle a little! He is going to fiddle. It may even be with your hair, or picking loose the strings of your shirt.

Just wants to kiss you! Not even sexually or deeply he just likes pecking you too! He likes having your lips press back against his as he greets or drifts from you, or you’re talking and your lips look so pretty he can’t help but stare at them, or someone else is talking and he has a second where he’s not running his mouth to just sweetly peck them in the middle of the conversation. If you both look at each other at the same time, chances are you’re both smiling before sweetly pecking, continuing at whatever it was you were doing.

Eddie likes feeling warm. And loved. And you provide that for him with every touch, whether you’re giving it or he is, usually both. With the feel of you against him, no matter how big or small, his brain immediately tells him he is safe, and he just feels right at home. He feels normal, like he never was normal before, and this was always supposed to be his normal. You were. For his normal to always be being loved.

And he’s gonna give that to you too. That’s going to be your normal, from him, it’s all he wants in life to give you. He wants it to be your shared normal. He is just perfect because he knows it is.

Quality time:

He’s so happy you wanna spend time with him.

Joining him for dnd, coming to support his band, eating lunch with him. Not leaving him alone all day in his trailer... just hanging out.

He was a lonely child. Neglected by his parents, Wayne hardly home although he didn’t blame him for that because at least he tried, having no siblings and very few friends for most of his childhood. Eddie doesn’t like being alone anymore, especially now he’s had a taste of life without it. He likes if you can come spend time with him for a bit please, at least so the trailer isn’t deadly quite the entire evening. Eddie’s always hated quiet, even before anything bad had happened it’s just who he was, his loudness sometimes making up for it.

Honestly though he just loves chilling and having a good time. But he loves it 200% more being able to do it with someone, to do it with someone who likes hanging out with him, to do it with you.

Spending chill days where you two have no plans, just smoking weed, listening to music, watching some films, reading magazines (maybe making fun of them together) is really nice for Eddie.

Also please let him talk and talk and talk about dnd he’s so happy to finally get all those thoughts bouncing around in his head out in the open, because someone actually wants to listen to him rave about it. His head might’ve exploded if he hadn’t met you, and couldn’t microdose on his friends he was the leader of. Actually he has a lot of topics like that. Can he go on a three hour talk about the ins and outs and his own personal views on certain topics? He’d love to discuss them finally with someone.

Eddie’s not possessive at all, he is super chill you just going back to yours and him his. It’s pretty regular. He may call you for a sec that evening, or he may not, but everything’s just normal and happy when seeing each other the next day. You don’t need to see each other every day, but he does like to as well, he’s not opposed to it.

He’d like if you were in Hellfire club, and if you came to band practice, or were even in Corroded Coffin, but you don’t have to be. He’d probably really wants you in Hellfire club, and let’s be honest you’d end up joining. There’s the obvious reasons of why he’d like you to join, but with quality time, he knows between dnd and his band, and school and selling and stuff, he wouldn’t have as much time with you. But he doesn’t need to be with you every hour of the day! There’s just a ton of reasons he’d love you in his dnd group.

Like there’s a ton of reasons Eddie would like to sleep with you every night if he could. Not sleep with you in that way, although he’s not against it ;), but he’ll call up (if you’re lucky), or just plummet through your window later at night when he knows you’re still up, smiling cheekily at you and asking what you’re up to, as he casually grabs his comfy clothes he leaves in a drawer at yours, and starts getting changed, jumping onto the bed then under the covers. He will also put his freezing hands from his trailer and being outside under your clothes and onto your warm skin, but you have to warm him up! That or he may call and ask if you wanna come over just to sleep at his that night, especially because Wayne isn’t in so there’s no chance of you two being caught, even if you’re just chatting and sleeping. Doing that at whoever’s every night is not necessary, but it’s nice. He likes falling asleep with you. He likes the both of you saying goodnight to each other in person, those sleepy smiles you both give where your eyes are only half open but you’re all teeth because you’re just warm and happy, snuggling closer and under the covers as both your breathing is the only sound in the room, and you both easily slip into that calmness, in each other’s embrace.

He wants to move in with you as soon as you’re both out of school and have the money. Not in Hawkins, he wants to escape. But if you’re the first to suggest the both of you just living in his van for the last couple of weeks while you save up for a place, he’s all for it.

He likes the smell of your room, the candles or body spray, the air freshener your family uses in the living room, the throw overs on your couch that he just loves the feel of over his socks, the fact he can just relax with you in your home. With your funny baby pictures, and your trophies, and posters of awful bands, and your family sassing with you back and forth, seeing all sides of you. And if your parents like him and have him round for dinner and everything he just feels so accepted and like it’s a second home, he loves spending time with you there, where everything surrounding him is so you.

But even just talking! He could ditch with you before lunchtime, and stay up all night till the start of school the next day, just talking back and forth with you. About anything! He loves that the two of you can just have a conversation and it never falls flat, because the two of you just get along so well, and always have things to bring up or bounce off each other.

He enjoys whatever you two do! Even if sometimes it’s something he thinks he’d rather die than normally do, he doesn’t care because he’s doing it with you. And if people see him, they’ll know he’s just being an amazing boyfriend, also like he could give a shit what other people think.

Listen to his music with him, lay in bed together and let him explain certain lyrics or show you riffs he knows on his guitar.

Spend lunch with him, let him drive you to school, hang out with him in the car park after school. It makes him happy to have someone he always knows will be there, that safe routine with you, knowing you’re always gonna be near. Or if not, that he can go to you, or is okay asking you to come to him. It’s safe and accepted and normal and all alright.

If he’s going into town after school he’ll invite you. Even if you two just grab a milkshake. Or if you’ve gotta go somewhere pretty soon, he’ll take you with him to a slushy machine in a store together, then drive you to wherever you needed to be.

Eddie likes existing with you. Especially around town. Don’t tell anyone this, but doing so at school, in town, in the woods, anywhere that isn’t home, it makes him feel safe in Hawkins.

Gift giving:

Eddie doesn’t usually get a lot, he hasn’t in life, and any small thing for him makes him melt.

Something just for him? That you specifically picked out because you were thinking of him? And care about him enough to give him something? His heart is soaring.

He doesn’t have a whole lot of money, but he likes to make you little things too, like mixtapes he seriously puts thought and heart into. Swearing to himself as he crosses songs off a list, biting his tongue as he makes sure he’s recording the song at exactly the right time.

Or making you your own guitar pic necklace. He may even make a personalised magnetised one, one that has a message that’s completed when both your necklaces stick together with the little magnetic side. Or just his other lucky pic, because even that is super sweet. And he’s not controlling or anything but that’s one item he’d really love if you always wore, because it would mean a lot to him, because he’ll always wear his. It’s not even visible under your shirts half the time but that’s not the reason he likes you both wearing them.

Something about giving you a symbolic thing like your own pic necklace feels just bonding to Eddie as well. If you made him a friendship bracelet he would never take it off no matter what. If it’s super colourful it goes with his whole darker aesthetic in a way, and people are gonna know it’s from his partner, or at least someone who loves him very much.

He’ll still buy you things though! When he sees something nice and he can! It doesn’t have to be big or super meaningful but he likes getting you things because he likes making you happy, and he likes that weird feeling in his chest, actually his whole body, that he had never experienced before, when he cradles something in his hand and it makes him just think of you with it, think of him giving it to you.

And he likes that that feeling stays with him at checkout, so much clerks are being nice to him because they can see how happy he is getting a present for his love and what a sweet boy he is, and it stays as he drives home, as he smiles trying to fall asleep thinking about seeing you tomorrow, as he climbs through your window because it was only 10pm he might as well give it you now right?

If you have a similar aesthetic oh boy does Eddie love looking through shops with you, and sometimes getting you a little trinket. Especially around this time of year if you also like Halloweeny stuff. A Halloween decoration of spell books all molded together? Ooh is that gonna show people you’re just like him if someone goes into your room, maybe that if you’re nice and have stuff like that, his stuff isn’t too bad either? Eddie’s taking you to Spirit Halloween and literally beaming with joy at how excited you get running around with his hand in yours, or even getting so excited you run off disappearing into aisles like a kid, and pointing everything out to him. He doesn’t think he’s ever been as happy as when he’s looking at you happy.

Writes and performs songs about, and for you. In Corroded Coffin, ones he’d make absolute bangers that they’d play in their album and on stage. I mean, maybe some of their best songs are born from all the emotions and experiences you give him, because they have feel and proper understanding in the meaning of it behind them. But some of his own songs too, that aren’t to do with his band.

Will write ballads about your dnd character too, so the helpful bard he plays in one part of his campaign can sing it to your character as you two interact. It’s all world building, the guys can shut it if the song goes on a little too long. Although honestly most of them are just impressed at the ballad.

An engraved lighter for you. Even if it’s carved on with a pen knife from him. And even if you don’t smoke. Lighters have loads of uses, and you can always light his cigarette for him which he sees as pretty domestic, if you’re not chiding him for smoking that is.

It’s not a gift really but feel like it needs to be said, you have free weed for days. Mostly you’re smoking it with Eddie, but he’ll give you some when you ask, if you wanna smoke it with friends or something. Or he’ll bake weed brownies as a surprise for you one weekend. Even if you taught him how to bake so it wasn’t burnt and shit at first. If you bake for him though he’s hand to his heart dead on the floor.

He wouldn’t let you take any of the real nasty shit though, drugs wise. Let’s face it, it’s the 80s, Eddie has probably tried a thing or two, and he’s not one to judge or mollycoddle, but he’s not going to give you anything that could harm you. If you do ask to try something dangerous though, Eddie’s usually asking if there’s something the matter and why you want to use that as soon as the words leave your lips. In a gentle concerned way, coming across as the confident therapist almost, because he doesn’t wanna startle you off, especially if he thought there was a risk of you buying off someone who was a shitty person, or their stuff was toxic. But some things Eddie will definitely try with you. He’s not trying to kill himself with drugs on his own, he knows what he’s doing and he likes to get high just for fun, or a little bit of an escape, he’s determined not to be a junkie or anything like some of the adults he knew growing up, but he’s a tad more trying to stay sober if you two are trying something a bit stronger than weed for the first time. Anything super bad though is a complete no from him, he doesn’t even really sell the worst stuff, because he’s not gonna risk accidentally killing someone by selling to them, and he’s not in this to hurt other people.

The money though is useful, if he wants to buy things for you. You’ll chide him sometimes, saying he should spend it on himself, but he can’t just not buy you a gift, or even like a coffee in the colder mornings, or a pack of candy thrown at the back of your head in class.

You buy him stuff too though so it works. You’ll stack up on groceries when you come over, using some of them like dinner/soda/popcorn in that same night as an excuse for why you bought so much, because you don’t want him to think it’s pity or anything. You just genuinely like helping out.

Eddie is always super grateful whenever you buy him a snack in school or around town though, munching on it immediately. Normally only offering you a bite once his teeth had already sunk into it, because sharing food like that also does feel domestic for him, even if he’s laughing covering his full mouth as he offers it to you.

On the one hand he loves when you buy him lunch, but sometimes he feels bad. He’s the boyfriend, in his eyes he should be buying you lunch. But you let him do so sometimes when he offers, or he just casually does it, so no matter what it never feels like a big deal when you pay.

You two just telepathically really work out a system from the beginning about buying things for each other, and it’s never felt like a stressor to do so.

Eddie will steal things for you though. Not like anything that could be considered a felony, and anything at all risky he’s not gonna do, because God knows this town’s police wouldn’t go easy on him, even with you sticking up for him, but if it’s something you like, or he thinks you will, and it’s easy to yoink, he’s presenting it to you in a dramatic and romantic fashion well out of view of the storefront.

Tbh if you don’t like him stealing, he may lie and say he bought/acquired things he stole when he gives them to you, because in his eyes even though he loves that you worry and care about him, he knows he’ll be fine, and he still wants to treat his baby.

But anything you do for Eddie has him dead. He still doesn’t expect presents, especially at random times, and it still catches him off guard each time you hand him something. At first his breath hitches just a little, then it devolves into “Aw babe, you didn’t have to...” but soon he comes to accept these little (or big) things from you.

And he definitely gets excited like a kid, jumping up and down energetically when you say you have a present for him and trying to move his head around to peer inside your bag as you bring it out. Anything, he’s thankful for though. You genuinely could not disappoint him (not ever...) just having you think of him and get him a present is a present to Eddie!

At first you may have to classically condition him Pavlov’s dogs style to make him not surprised that he deserves treats lmao.

The first time he lost a gift from you he actually cried. He felt guilty, tearing apart his backpack, skipping a period to walk though every hall he’d been down, asking at lost and found, knowing he hadn’t let any asshole bullies near his shit so it wasn’t them stealing your token of affection, he’d just somehow been a screwup and he’d lost it! Your gift to him! You stroke his back, under his shirt with nails like he likes, and remind him it was just a badge as he cries into his hands, you could get it in the shop after school, you could go buy it again with him now! You can even go get ice cream together after. And that calms him a little, the fact it’s not really lost forever. But he still feels terrible. Even though you remind him it was an accident and not his fault, it still felt like a bit of a deal to him at first. He was careless with your present to him! He’s making you spend more money! Even if it was literally only $6. But you always have such a good way of calming him, and once he’s okay he says he knows it was a bit of an overreaction to cry over it, even though you quickly jump in assuring him it wasn’t and you totally get why it upset him, that you’d probably get upset upon realising you’d lost one of his gifts too, but you both know it was the gesture rather than not having his little badge anymore that was more of the upset. Turns out he’d forgotten he’d shown Dustin his newest present off you, and when the bell rang Dustin put it into his pocket to show Mike and Lucas. Eddie is snatching it out of Dustins hands when he presents in to him at break, but burying himself into your neck with tired moans, as he flips it between his fingers like someone would a drumstick. You and him are still getting ice cream after school though.

It really makes his whole day getting anything from you. And he’s constantly looking at it, he has to have it in his hands, feeling it fondly throughout the day. Always checking it’s still in his backpack (even way before he lost the one item), and just fiddling with it when he’s at home, heart warm and fond because every treat from you was just your love for him right there in his hands. Those are the few times he’s quiet, he doesn’t need noise like music or the tv, he’s just in his own world, playing with his new present.

Acts of service:

Loves if you cook for him. He can’t really do it himself, and although Wayne sometimes tries, he’s hardly ever home, or having dinner at the same time as Eddie. To have a home cooked meal, even if it isn’t anything fancy or big, is amazing. It’s a home he always craved. But even if you’re just putting something in the oven he likes that he can relax, he can stretch his fingers after abusing them on his sweetheart (the guitar) all day, and cuddle with you on the couch while you wait. He can even close his eyes for thirty seconds while you set up.

Or if you help him study. That’s something Eddie really appreciates. Because not only do you help him but you don’t make him feel stupid. And you do some things no one’s ever taken the care or time or do, and you’ve figured out the best way for Eddie that helps him learn. Not just the way schools do it. And Eddie is shocked to learn that he isn’t just stupid, from when you tell him so, and from your methods that you used your genius to figure out actually help him. That and the care you take into going through things with him. If he needs tough love, you’ll stretch out there a little. If he needs positive reinforcement rather than negative you’re right there alongside him. Even a reward of kisses after every correct answer on the flash cards make him grin, each time from ‘winning’ that question, and the fact he gets a peck from you for actually keeping attention. You’re not even mean to him when his mind strays, you’re always understanding. And the fact he wants to try in class because you two have been trying in your own time together to help him, but he also knows you’re never gonna see him as a disappointment anyway, really helps alongside the fact you actually help him to understand the material, or how he’s supposed to write it in the first place.

Eddie’s got every good manners though. And he doesn’t take you for granted. He doesn’t expect anything off you either. He thanks you every time you help him or do something for him.

Will help you with things if he can, always wanting to be your knight. Sometimes he’s not very good at the things you ask, or need help with, but Eddie will always try. He will always do his best for you, even if it means asking for help himself in doing so. But Eddie is determined to help you out, to make your life easier, to support you in whatever it is you need, no matter what.

Will drive you places. And he likes that you don’t care about being dropped off in Eddie ‘The Freak’s’ van. Anywhere you need to go ask him baby, he may sometimes be busy, but he’ll try and figure things out so you’re not having to walk or get a bus, it’s easier for you when he’s driving. Also because you two can hang out, and you’re not travelling anywhere alone! If the journey is five minutes or two hours, he’ll drop you off and pick you up. He’ll even wait nearby if it’s easier, finding some way to pass the time just so he can ask how everything went and listen to the tapes you both own tucked in his van. And he will listen to some of your music in the van with you, even if he makes fun of it.

If it’s dark, probably don’t mention you’re planning on walking somewhere if you don’t want Eddie driving straight over to yours. Eddie’s not overbearing in his protectiveness, he’s not some asshole boyfriend who thinks you can’t take care of yourself, but he’d be just fine and happy helping out versus letting you walk alone in the dark if he’s not doing anything.

Will give you dnd lessons if you need. Happily! And if you do please let him give them to you, please, he wants you to join his club please join Hellfire, please just come along for a taster he’ll make it incredible for you c’mon!! He actually reallllllly wants to give you lessons if you don’t know anything about it, or even need a reminder walkthrough. If not though, at least come over to his before Friday’s session so you two can work on your character sheet and their backstory together! Hanging out alone. Tell your dungeons master the hidden lore of this player, and storylines that are secrets from the others for now, but he can weave into the ongoing narrative of his campaign as they go along, like he does for the others.

Or guitar lessons! He’d love to give you them. He definitely does a quick nail inspection before he lets you touch his precious though, it also gives him an excuse to hold your hands for a good while, and kiss all up your knuckles and fingertips in a quick surprise attack. He’d love to share that love for guitar with you. And he’ll gladly take time giving you those lessons.

Or any instrument you wanna learn, he’ll ask someone in Corroded Coffin to help. Unless it’s one none of them play, but he’s still gonna find out information about it for you to help you learn though, and the basics of learning any instrument like reading notes and stuff he can still help with. He’ll still help you learn it where he can. Maybe he can use your instrument in one track somewhere?? He’d like to anyway.

He wants to share his music with you overall though. He wants to ‘open your mind’ he says sometimes too with a smirk. He wants you to listen to his songs, he’s got a mixtape of his songs he thinks you’ll like, and another of his personal favourites. Sure you can listen to them in your way home, or alone in your room. Or you can come over to his and just lay in bed with him as he talks and talks and talks infodumping about everything he knows about the songs. Little behind the scenes details, and rewinding so you can hear the best part again (probably because he was talking through it). He can also play certain parts of songs for you on his guitar once they’re finished, or if he gets carried away the whole thing, but he’ll probably be playing air guitar, knowing the notes off by heart, and you can watch his fingers go as he does so.

He’ll even *hint* at you making your own mixtapes for him, and hint is very light because Eddie’s not too subtle, he doesn’t really care to be. And if not, he’s taking time making a mixtape himself of your favourite songs, so he can try and get into them more. He has them in his van/room when you’re over, usually carrying it around in his bag. It’s like a little reminder of you too, not that he doesn’t have quite a few of your personal affects, or items that have meaning between the two of you, on him at all times.

A bit of a simp, actually a massive simp once he’s fallen for you. So anything you ask him to help you with, whether right now or for future reference, Eddie is quite literally leaping up, and asking you specifics so he doesn’t fuck it up, before going to do what you’d asked of him.

People also haven’t really trusted Eddie to be the one to ask for things in the past, even when he was little, so he likes that you trust him enough to ask to help out with little things. And of course that you trust him so completely you go straight to him to lean on for big matters.

If it is something big and serious, Eddie will be serious. He will be whatever you need, because he genuinely does understand people, and he’s actually a very empathetic guy. But especially for you he’ll take your hands in his and ask questions, nodding at whatever it is you say, as he goes through with you what he need, so he can go do it.

Anything you need Eddie is going to try as hell to do for you at the end of the day. No matter important or tiny. He loves you so much, and he’s going to do anything to make you happy and comfy. You’re the love of his life, the one person he genuinely loves more than anything in the world by far. He’s going to do everything and anything to make sure you feel like you’re doing all the good and important and little things you wanna do in life, or you would like someone to do for you.

#me googling when spirit Halloween’s were a thing lmao #1983 apparently so all good lol #and again just my personal hc’s!! <3 #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson headcannons #Eddie Munson thoughts #Eddie Munson fluff #hc’s #stranger things #Eddie Munson/reader

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lemissingmask · 6 months

Text

[ID: Sketch in partial colour of Redemption era Parker and Eliot sitting side by side in the courtyard of their New Orleans base, in similar relative positions to when they had a heart to heart at the end of the hurricane job. Parker and her background are in colour, and she’s looking sadly down, hunched forward slightly. Eliot is in greyscale and wearing prison clothes, looking sad and serious. End ID] -

Day 29: alt. Prison

AU for The Turkish Prisoner Job, where Eliot gets stuck in the prison, and also the first part of the three-parter of ficlets, with the others on days 8 (dissociation, part 3) and 15 (experimentation, part 2). I know it’s backwards but that’s the way the days worked out 😅

Ficlet below the cut.

“Do exactly what they say,” were the last words they heard from Eliot for days, and they hadn’t even been addressed to the team. He had been speaking to Romero, just as he was about to get released on a day pass by their marks, and then he was gone. Taken away by prison guards under orders that overruled the detectives.

The confusion and surprise didn’t last more than a few seconds.

Sophie stepped in, had Breanna mute Eliot’s comm for all but her, and talked their client through how to proceed, keeping him calm and collected as he had to keep going now without a hitter for back-up.

The job had taken another turn, requiring a change of plan, new considerations, and they needed all of them involved to pull it off successfully, which meant it was two days before they had a chance to get back to Eliot. If had been any member of the team other than Eliot, Parker would have been worried.

But it was Eliot and a stint in prison out of contact with his crew was nothing to him.

Regardless, she felt something unpleasant and annoying and she didn’t understand it.

“Babe, you okay?” Hardison asked, his image large in the screens as their long distance call connected.

Breanna had emailed him as soon as they lost contact with Eliot, just in case there was something he could do with his amazing exosphere hacking access. But the prison ran a closed network, no access from the outside even from the exosphere.

“It just feels wrong.”

Hardison frowned, “Eliot being in jail?”

“I don’t know. Yes. Maybe…”

For over ten years Parker had barely gone a day without one or both of Hardison and Eliot either right there beside her or talking in her ear. Now Hardison was gone, only reachable through a complicated video link thing or emails that took too long and were too impersonal, and Eliot’s voice was no longer there either.

“Babe?”

Parker realised she had let her mind wander and looked back to the screen.

She couldn’t place what she was feeling.

She was angry. Angry at Eliot for not just breaking out, angry at Harry for running the job so Eliot ended up in prison, angry with Sophie for letting Harry run the job, and angry with herself because it wasn’t Harry’s fault or Sophie’s fault.

This happened. They did a dangerous job, especially Eliot, and this sort of thing could happen, and no one was to blame.

And she was anxious. Worried about Eliot, which was stupid because it was Eliot Spencer and he was always fine.

“Parker? Talk to me.”

She looked up.

Hardison looked worried, sad.

She smiled slightly, feeling that rising warmth that came whenever he looked at her with so much emotion. The reminder that she wasn’t alone.

“I don’t like not having him here,” she said quietly. She wanted Hardison to understand.

“I know,” he replied, “I’m sorry I’m not there right now.”

She nodded, “Well, you’ve got satellite stuff to do.”

That earned her only a sad smile, and she looked down at the keyboard.

“Harry going into the prison tomorrow?” Hardison asked, “Playing the lawyer.”

“Yeah. We can’t do anything until we know more.”

“I’ll keep trying to dig up intel from my end too. Got an algorithm running right now to cross-reference each of his aliases and his real name against email communications between government agencies, prison networks, rich folk…anyone who might want to lock him up.”

“That’s a long list. We’ve made a lot of enemies.”

And Eliot had a lot more still from before Leverage.

“Yeah. It’s gonna take a while,” Hardison replied, “So, wanna watch something together tonight? I can stream from any country in the world and share the screen.”

“Sharknado?”

Hardison sighed, “We got access to pretty much any film that exists on the internet, and you wanna watch Sharknado. Again.”

She grinned, “We can watch Sharknado II after.”

Sighing again, but smiling properly this time, he got to work finding the films, and they began their movie night.

Harry’s visit to the prison had three purposes. The first, to see if there was a quick route to getting Eliot released. The second, if that failed, to find out what had happened and why Eliot had been detained. The third, to get an earbud back to Eliot.

This required what was, essentially, a pointless and entirely fabricated lawyer-client conversation between Eliot and Harry, which Parker mostly ignored in favour of watching Breanna attempt to find a way into the prison security system now they were parked close to the building in the food truck.

The culmination of this conversation was that no, it was not going to be quick and easy to get Eliot released because he reportedly had committed severe infractions within the prison, as observed by the guards. Eliot had been moved to solitary because of these supposed dangerous acts, which were false but backed up by multiple guards. He hinted that he had some idea of why, but the conversation was recorded and monitored, with two guards in the room at the time, so he couldn’t say more.

But the third task was successful.

About half an hour after Harry returned, and while they were still outside the prison, Eliot’s comm came online.

“Welcome back,” Sophie said, seeing the feed on the laptop screen appear.

“Thanks,” Eliot whispered, suggesting he suspected someone may be listening, “Romero okay?”

“Okay and rolling in it,” Breanna replied proudly.

“Job’s wrapped up, everything sorted, so now we just need to get you out,” Parker added, “Any idea what got you locked in there?”

“Think so,” he replied, “Sorta. Pretty sure I’ve been ID’d.”

That was no surprise. It was among the theories they had discussed.

“Who by?” Harry asked, “It has to be someone high up for them to get you moved to solitary and multiple guards confirming a false story to keep you there.”

“Dunno, but I heard someone talkin’ outside my cell. Think they were on the phone, an’ they told whoever they were talkin’ to that they had me - said my name, not the alias’s - locked down. My guess is they’re gonna transfer me at some point.”

“Weakest part of any transit is when the goods are being loaded into the vehicle,” Parker repeated information she had heard from Eliot years before, “That’s where we rescue you.”

Breanna shifted her screen to bring up several views of roads, “Look, I didn’t manage to get into the prison cameras, but I could get into some CCTV on the roads leading to the prison. A prisoner transport is gonna require an armoured car, right? And it’s gotta go down one of those roads.”

“We’ll be ready for it too, now,” Sophie added, “You can tell us when the transfer is taking place. We’ll get everything prepared to attack the car, and when you give us the signal, we’ll move.”

Considering the number of times they’d waylaid and broken into armoured vehicles in the past, setting up the plan for dealing with this one - and contingencies in case of an escort, alternative routes, timings being off, and so on - didn’t take more than a few hours. And, with the plan established and it already nearing midnight, they all went to bed.

All except Parker.

She tried sitting at the bar and then the desk and then on the stage, and finally wandered out to the courtyard to sit on the picnic table there. It felt very empty to be sitting on that table without Eliot next to her. But then most places she was used to sitting tended to have their hitter there too.

She felt stupid. Ridiculous. Eliot had been away from them undercover or kidnapped or on some side-hustle job loads of times and she never felt this unhappy about it. Hardison had been away loads too, working on those hacker things only he could do, and she felt sad but not like this. Not this icky, distracting, fuzzy feeling in her brain like something was really really wrong.

She pulled her earbud from her pocket and put it in her ear.

“Hey, Eliot? You asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to listen to that podcast with all the facts. Wanna listen with me? We’re like six episodes behind.”

Eliot didn’t reply immediately. She heard a quiet background noise. His footsteps on a hard floor.

Then he spoke quietly, not answering the question.

“You doin’ alright, Parker?”

She tried to laugh properly but it didn’t work. It didn’t sound like a laugh, even though she was meant to be good at grifting by now.

“I’m not the one sitting alone in a dark lonely cold prison cell.”

She could hear the smile in Eliot’s voice. The gentle, soft smile.

“I’ve been in a lot of prisons, Parker. This one’s among the nicest,” he paused, and in it she could picture his expression perfectly. It was the kind, understanding, expression few people ever got to see.

The thought of it, so clear in her mind, finally made her understand what felt so wrong.

She was lonely.

She hadn’t been lonely in a very long time and now it hurt so much more than before.

“It’s just,” she began, looking down at her shoes on the bench, “First Hardison left. And now so have you.”

“Parker,” Eliot said softly, “I didn’t leave. I’m right here, an’ I’m always gonna be. Hardison might be a stupid number of miles away, but he’s right there with you too.”

“With us.”

“With us,” he accepted her correction without hesitating, “We’re not, either of us, ever gonna leave you. An’ I know right now it feels lonely, but you’re not alone. We’re here, Sophie’s there. Harry an’ Breanna are there. Hell, if you wanna call up Hurley I bet he’d answer any time of the day or night an’ probably make you talk to his damn cat.”

Parker laughed despite herself. She liked Hurley’s cat. Eliot didn’t, so the cat always sat on Eliot when they visited, purring contentedly while he growled at it to go annoy someone else, and trying to pretend there wasn’t a fond smile just on the verge of forming on his face.

Eliot left a long pause for his words to sink in, and for Parker to find the truth within them. When he spoke again it was in a more normal tone, saving her from falling too deep into emotions she couldn’t name.

“So,” Eliot said, “About that podcast. ‘Cus solitary’s pretty damn boring.”

Parker found herself smiling.

She already had it up on her phone, the first in their episode backlog ready to go.

“You hear it?”

The familiar theme tune started as she pressed play.

“I hear it,” Eliot replied, then added softly, just as the voices of the podcasters began, “Thanks, Park.”

She nodded although he couldn’t see, smiled, and settled in to spend the night happily with Eliot, even if there were miles and walls of concrete between them.

Parker went to sleep, still listening to that podcast with Eliot in her ear.

When she woke up, Eliot was gone.

His comms were off, and no amount of yelling into her earbud would get a response.

Harry went back into the prison, playing the part of his alias's lawyer again, but he was told that alias wasn't in the prison system. Never had been in the prison at all, according to the records. Hours of intense hacking from outside the walls and from the exosphere found that alias wiped entirely from the prison records, and Eliot's name was nowhere to be found either.

During the night, while his crew slept, Eliot had been made to disappear.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #Day 29: alt. Prison #leverage redemption #the turkish prisoner job #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer

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