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mytheoristavenue · 1 year

Note

Can you maybe do one of one piece men hearing their shy s/o yell at them for the first time? Or first time their shy s/o acts bratty ? Can be fluff , agnst or NSFW, whatever you'd like my love. I'm sure it'll turn out good , I loved your other ones that you've written!! ❤️❤️ BTW that sanji speaking French got my good 😫😫🤌 *chefs kiss*

I'll do all three! I hope it's alright that I only do Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and Usopp for this one! Since I'm going to do three separate scenarios for each, it would be a lot of work to do that for as many characters as I included in my last post! If I missed anyone you specifically wanted, let me know!

Straw Hat Men + Shy!S/O Yelling for the First Time 🍋

Summary: How your Straw Hat boyfriend reacts to hearing you raise your voice for the first time in an angsty, fluffy, and NSFW scenario.

Waring: NSFW, MDNI, fluff, angst, fem!reader

Note: I did mark this one with a lemon as I usually do with NSFW content, but only 1/3rd of it will be! The different scenarios will be marked with a '💕💔🍋', for fluff, angst, and smut respectively. If you've seen any of my masterlists, they also operate under this same key.

Monkey D. Luffy:

💕 Your least favorite part of being a pirate was the fact that your boyfriend was your captain. If you could leave and join a different crew without it being a relationship ending action, you would most certainly consider it. It wasn't always bad of course, but with it was bad- it was awful.

As your lover, Luffy was stubborn, but as your captain it was ten fold. once he settled on a bad idea, there was no changing his mind, no matter how much your opinion as his partner mattered to him. Typically, it was something you could look pasted, but you had to admit, his last bright idea had left you bitter with him, and the way he hounded you for answers as you why you were ignoring him was doing him no favors.

"Awe, c'mon, babe!" he giggled, wrapping his elastic arms around your waist, pulling you back to him after you'd walked away from him. "I'm sorry you got all wet!" he offered, only receiving a sharp glare form over your shoulder.

Earlier that day, he had decided that everyone would go into the town to do some shopping on the island you'd ported on. You picked out a lovely floral sundress, and worn it out of the store after buying it, excited to show him how pretty it looked on you. To your surprise, and later anger, he enthusiastically scooped you up and tried to swing you along with him back to the Sunny, only to miss. Not only did you both collide with the ship's hull, but you also fell into the water, making his survival your responsibility.

"Luffy, that dress was very expensive. I rarely buy myself nice things, and the one time I did, I didn't even have it for ten minutes before you ruined it." you pouted quietly, still unwillingly wrapped in his arms.

"I'm sure it's not ruined, babe, we can wash it." he dismissed, making your blood boil. You couldn't contain your frustration at him.

"No, we can't!" you snapped, pushing him away to glare at him with hands on hips. "It's silk, you can't just toss it in the washing machine! I has to be professionally cleaned, and you just had us set sail away from the only place I could take it to! Who knows how long it'll take us to find another island with a dry cleaners', and even if we found one tomorrow, it wouldn't matter! The stain is already set!"

Luffy simply blinked at your ranting. He didn't understand any of what you'd just said. He wasn't even entirely sure what silk was or why it was so different from regular fabric, but he could recognize that he'd upset you, which he felt bad for. "Awe...I'm sorry babe." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck shamefully.

"You should be!" you huffed, crossing your arms and turning your back on him.

"Tell you what," he smiled, wrapping his arms around you again, this time laying his head on your shoulder. "Next time we port, we'll go out- just you and me and I'll take you shopping again. I'll have Nami set some of my money aside and it'll me my treat. And I'll see if Franky can build something that can wash silk." he negotiated, melting the tough coating around your heart. "We'll get you all the expensive clothes you want, and that way, you'll be able to to clean them if you need to."

"Luffy..." you swooned, turning in his arms to face him. "You promise?" He nodded with a ear to ear grin, and you threw yourself into his embrace. "Oh, I can't stay mad at you, you're too sweet!"

💔 The second time Luffy heard you raise you voice at him, it was a gut wrenching scream, accompanied by tears. The part that disturbed him most, however, was the fact that it wasn't really at him, but more for him.

"Stop it!" your voice rang out across a smoking battlefield, crack and desperate. "Please, stop, you'll kill him!" You were yards away, but you could still see the light leaving your boyfriend's eyes as he laid motionless on the ground from where you were being subdued.

The marines had ambushed the crew while at an island you'd stopped at for supplies. Kizaru stood over him, glancing over at you when he'd heard, his signature smug grin unfaltering as he made his way over to you. "That's the point, dollface."he cooed. "Dead or alive, or so the saying goes."

"P-Please," you negotiated. "Please, you can have me instead. I-I'm worth something right?" You struggled to remember your current bounty.

"You want me to give up one of the most wanted men on the seas," he chuckled, looming over you. "For a measly ten million berries?Honey," he smirked, eyes darting to Luffy, still unmoving, and back to you. "The only thing that makes you worth anything is your value to him. Now that we've got Straw Hat, we don't have a use for you."

"That's...not true..." a broken and tired voice graveled from where he once lay. Your hopefully eyes snapped to your partner as he slowly rose to face the admiral in your stead.

"Luffy!" you shrieked, relieved tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Still kickin', huh?" Kizaru laughed, turning his attention back.

"That's not true, (Y/N)." your captain continued, entirely ignoring his enemy, yet still walking towards him and not you. "You're worth so much more than being my girlfriend. You're a Straw Hat, and that means so much more!"

🍋 Luffy had never known you to be the most verbal person when it came to physical pleasures, and the silent sighs and tiny gasps became a common song that he learned to enjoy above all others. that was until he heard what you were really capable of.

"Oh, fuck, Luffy!" you cried, tossing your head back in eustasy. He froze entirely for a moment, gazing up at you in awe as you rode him, bouncing with delight, and cursing his name like the sailor you were. You were so entranced that you failed out notice his lack of participation as he watched you put in all the work he normally would.

Hearing those loud, dirty words tumble over your lips did something to him- snapped some sort of line that tethered him to his control. "(Y/N), baby?" he spoke lowly, breaking you of your spell. You immediately began apologizing, bringing your hands to cover your blushing face, only to be caught by the wrists. "What have you never moaned for me like that before?"

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me!" you sputtered, humiliated by your lewd behaviors.

"Well," he decided, guiding your trembling hands to his hair, before winding his rubber arms around your waist and clenching your doughy thighs as hard as he could without doing actual damage. "We're gonna fuckin' find out!"

Roronoa Zoro:

💕 You had been ignoring Zoro all day long and it was starting to drive him crazy, though he wasn't going to let you on to that fact. He eyed from from across the deck as you chatted with Nami about something he didn't care about. Anytime you would catch him looking at you, you'd huff, turn your nose at him, and make it a point to very sweetly ask Sanji for something. Every time, the doting chef would give into your every whim, bringing you parfaits, making you something special for lunch, or even a fancy glass of water with cucumber and mint. Finally, your boyfriend decided he'd had enough.

"Why are you acting like such a brat today?" he grilled sternly, looming over your lounge chair as you tanned. "You better not be trying to make me jealous of that damn cook."

You gasped dramatically, sharing a shocked looked with Nami, before you both rolled your eyes at him. "You've got some nerve calling me a brat." you spat back at him, turning your attention back to your magazine.

"Well, you're acting like one!" Zoro protested.

"Yeah, well," you huffed. "At least Sanji's nice to me and gives me attention when I want it!" Nami silently agreed with you, nodding her head as you spoke.

"Oh my God," your boyfriend groaned, rolling his eyes and slumping his shoulders. "Is that what this is about? Damn, you're so annoying."

You scowled at him, throwing your magazine onto the floor in a fit. "No, Zoro, you know what's annoying? Trying to spend time with your boyfriend, only to get passed up for lifting stupid weights!" you shouted, collecting the attention of many of your nakamas, which embarrassed him quite a bit. "All you do is work out or clean your damn swords! I wake up, and you're not in bed because your training, I go to bed and- same thing!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry I have to train to keep you protected you highness!" he snarled back at you. "It's not like I've saved your life or anything."

"Oh, thank you for not letting me die! Boyfriend of the damn year!"

"Jesus Christ," he growled, finally giving in under all the stares of his crewmates. "I'll skip work out tonight and we can cuddle all night, okay?"

"Okie dokie!" you beamed, demeanor immediately shifting back to the kind, sweet girl everyone knew you as. Zoro sighed, exhausted by your manipulation tactics; he needed a nap.

💔 Zoro's body froze solid, hearing you're voice from a location he couldn't pinpoint. His mind went into fight or flight mode as the fear and desperation in your voice struck him like a pendent in a church bell, sending vibrations all throughout him. "Zoro!"

"(Y/N)?!" he called back, spinning as he took in his surroundings. He could see so many people, but none of them were you. Where were you?

"Zoro!" Suddenly, you broke through the crowd, making a mad dash for him, leaping into his arms before he could register it. "Oh my gosh, I thought I'd lost you!" you cried into his chest. "I was so worried!"

He was still frozen, for the first time in his life unable to act. "Y-you were worried about me?" he stammered, having trouble wrapping his head around the idea.

"Yes!" you replied, nuzzling into his throat. "There's marines on the island, and when I turned around and you weren't there I thought you were in trouble!"

"If that's the case, you should have gone back to the ship." he scolded you lightly, trying to mask how much his heart melted at your concern. "Now we're both in danger."

You shook your head quickly. "No, I'm not going anywhere without you! We'll go back together!" You insisted. "What if you get lost again?"

His stern face softened into a loving smile, reflecting his feelings in the moment, before grabbing you by the hand. "Fine, let's go. You lead the way."

🍋 Zoro had never heard anything more lewd that the sounds he was extracting from you now. You were laid out in his arms, across his lap, his fingers reaching for invisible buttons inside you, making your tummy do flips. Each breath you took was ragged and punctuated a needy whine. Typically, you sang a song of soft hums, using his name as a refrain every so often, and he did adore that, but nothing could compare to the arousal he got from hearing you curse.

"Shit, Zoro, I-I-!" you were beyond the point of forming fully coherent sentences, most of them fading after a few words. His own breathing quickened as he worked you better and better by the minute.

"Yeah, baby," he groaned, his face contorting into a frustrated snarl. "Tell me all those dirty words you know."

God Usopp:

💕 "I said I'm sorry!" he squeaked, following you out of his workshop and into the bathroom. "It was an accident!" You ignored his pleas for your forgiveness as you walked up to the sink, leaning over to dip your head under the faucet. He had been showing you his newest star, when he shot it at a shelf, which in turn shook, knocking a bottle to toad oil onto your head. Your silence terrified him as he stood idly by watching you try to rinse it from your scalp. "I-If you let me take a bath with you, I'll wash it all out-" His nervous negotiations were cut short by your harsh glare.

He wrung his hands, pacing back and forth as you disrobed and slipped into the washroom, heading straight for the shower in the corner. Reluctantly, he followed you, fully clothed, unsure if he was meant to or not. "I really am sorry," he admitted, stepping up behind you as you say on the stool and poured a bucket of water over your head. "Here, let me." he insisted, thoroughly rinsing your hair before massaging product into it. You wordlessly allowed him to was the oil out of your hair, enjoying the quiet of the moment, until he ruined that too.

"A-Are you gonna break up with me?" he piped up anxiously.

"No!" you shouted with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm not going to break up with you over this, Usopp, I'm just mad!"

"Sorry," he replied, embarrassed at his silly question. "Thank you..."

"For what?" you snapped, wishing he would simply stop talking for a few minutes.

"Giving me another chance." he answered quietly. You felt your heart tear a bit at his insecurity.

"Usopp, I would never leave you over something this small." you confirmed, glancing at him over the shoulder. "I know it was just an accident, and I forgive you. I just need a few little quiet time to cool off."

He nodded, prompting you to relax as he lathered your scalp. Within minutes, you were putty in his hands, and happy as a clam again.

💔 The way his name came out of you mouth tore Usopp apart. Though you weren't together yet at this time, he still held so much undying love for you, but his pride had gotten the better of him. He ignored your sobs as he walked away from the crew, choosing a broken ship over everyone who cared for him- including you.

"Usopp, you stop right there!" you commanded, tears steaming down your face as you struggled to run after him. You'd seen him respond when Kaya did this, and you genuinely thought it would work, but obviously, given the circumstances, his love for her was much stronger than what he had claimed to have for you. "Please, come back! Usopp!"

You tumbled to the rocky shore of Water 7, having tripped over your own feet, your vision too obscured by tears to see straight. "Please!"

"C'mon, (Y/N)," Nami sniffled, pulling you to your feet only to hold you back from pursuing him further. "He's made his choice."

🍋 Usopp marveled up at you from between your thighs as you sat perched atop his face. As you rode, bucking your his against his chin, you failed to notice the escalation of your volume, but he didn't. He adored your shy, soft moans- even thought of them in his sleep but this was entirely new, and so much better.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" you chanted. "Love riding your pretty face, baby!" He melted beneath you as you writhed, crying out in ecstasy, using him the way you wanted. He watched as you raised your arms, tangling your fingers in your hair. "Wanna cum all over your face!" you sighed, entranced.

"Do it, angel." he purred, voice muffled by your heat as he ate his fill. Your eyes shot open as you realized your dirty thoughts had spilled into the open air.

"Oh my God!" you squealed, instantly pushing yourself away form his face, leaving a snail trail down his chest to where you currently sat at his pelvis. "I'm so embarrassed, I'm so sorry!"

Usopp's fingers delicately laced with yours as he pulled at your hand. "Get back up here," he cooed, guiding you back to your previous position. "Please cum all over my pretty face."

Vinsmoke Sanji:

💕 You pouted in the corner of the dining room as Sanji served dinner, setting your plate down in from of you, and delicately tying your napkin around your neck as he always did. "What's wrong, Mon amour?" he asked, softly petting your hair, only to have you turn your nose up at him. The rest of the crew looked on in curiosity as the chef continued to serve, all the while struggling to get you to give him time of day.

After the meal was finished and everyone else had left the table, you stayed to help him clean up as usual. "Mon trésor, talk to me." he insisted. Once again you ignored him, prompting him to take the dishes from your hands and set them aside, before cupping your cheek to ensure that your focus was only on him. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing," you scoffed. "Just wish I had a boyfriend that was only my boyfriend is all."

Sanji stared at you blankly, puzzled by your sudden aggression towards him. "I'm all yours, amour, why would you think otherwise?"

"You seem to be pretty friendly with every other girl you come across," you muttered bitterly.

"Are you jealous?" he smirked, only to find that, to you, this was no amusing matter.

"I shouldn't have to be!" you snapped, sniffling a bit. "I shouldn't have to feel like I have to compete for your attention..." He stood in front of you, lips ajar from surprise at your level of emotion on the matter. After a moment, he softened, pulling you into his chest.

"This world is full of beautiful people, male and female," he soothed as you resisted the urge to cry in front of him. "We can never simply turn off our attraction to people, but at the end of the day, you should know that you take up all the space in my heart."

"Some apology," you scoffed, trying to push his affections away.

"It's not an apology," he corrected. "Though, maybe it should be. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, amour." he cooed, petting your hair and letting you be frustrated with him. Sanji was never one to try and sort out a problem immediately. He knew emotions took time to ease through, and how unhealthy rushing that could be. "Would you like some time to yourself?" he offered, pulling away from you to look into your eyes. You shook your head lightly, before nuzzling back into his chest. "Would you give me a chance to make it up to you?" You nodded shallowly, your hair getting mussed and collecting static from his shirt.

He smiled sweetly, parting from you, and holding you at arms' length. "Tell you what," he began, glancing over to the sink full of dishes. "Give me a few minutes to clean this up, you go get in the tub and wait for me."

💔 You stood in the pouring rain, outside looking in on a private moment. Sanji, the man who'd sworn his eternal love for you was there, embracing his wife to be the day before their wedding. His face was battered and bruised as he whispered to her. "Let's get married tomorrow."

Against all your better judgement, your shattered heart forced agonized screams from your throat as you sobbed, slamming your fists on the glass. Your shoulders shook as the rain mixed with your tears as they slid down your face. Just beyond, you watched as Pudding, the woman who'd taken your place nearly jump from her skin, fearfully snuggling deeper into his embrace as she eyed you as if you'd hurt her.

Sanji however never bothered to look. He heard you, he was just choosing to ignore your cries, no matter how deeply they bothered him. He could feel his decisions effect you in the form of guilty sweat dripping down his spine. Eventually, he turned his back to you, pulling his bride away as they exited the room. He couldn't stand the pitiful sight of you any longer, lest he begin to weep himself.

🍋 Sanji stared down at you, love and passion exuding from his pores as he made love to you. He held your legs securely over his shoulders as he eased in and out of you, counting how many times your breath would hitch before you could exhale. "Me prends si bien, chérie." he purred, leaning into your ear, nearly folding you in half.

"S-Sanji..." you whimpered, face numb from the overwhelming pleasure you were under. You couldn't hold back the way your volume was increasing, no matter how humiliating. He was worth being embarrassed for.

"Oui, mon amour?"

"F-Feels so good!" you affirmed, the need to feel useful swallowing you whole. You wanted to be an active participant, not simply a toy, but the way he loved on you left you paralyzed. "Wanna make you feel good too..."

"Tu me fais me sentir divine, chérie." he soothed, letting go of a weighted breath. "Continue juste à chanter comme ça pour moi, d'accord?"

Translations:

Mon amour/amour = My love/love

Trésor = Treasure

"Me prends si bien, chérie." = "Taking me so well, darling."

"Oui, mon amour?" = "Yes, my love?"

"Tu me fais me sentir divine, chérie." = "You make me feel divine, darling."

"Continue juste à chanter comme ça pour moi, d'accord?" = "Just keep singing like that for me, okay?"

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece hcs #one piece fluff #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #usopp #vinsmoke sanji

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familyvideostevie · 9 months

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seashell 🐚 🩷

hello lovely!! may i please request an eddie blurb pertaining to the lyrics “all's well that ends well to end up with you” <3

hello!! you super may!!! here's a blurb of you and eddie on the edge of friends-to-lovers!! <3

"Fancy seeing you here," Eddie says. He leans on the wall next to you, a colorful drink in his hand. You roll your eyes at him -- you've just eaten dinner at the same table. He had his foot hooked around your ankle the whole time.

"Very funny," you retort. "I figured you got lost on the way to the bathroom.

"Me? Lost?" You snort. He holds out his drink and you reach for it, wrapping your hand around his just to touch him before taking a sip. "You like it?"

You nod, turning your attention back to the dance floor. Everyone looks lovely -- all of your friends dressed up for the most anticipated wedding in the town's history: Joyce and Hopper.

The music changes to something slow and Eddie grabs your hand. "Let's dance," he says, already dragging you to the dance floor.

"To this?" you say. It's a little out of character for him. You've danced together hundreds of times, at least, heads banging to guitars and drums in grimy bars and even his trailer. But you've never danced like this. "Do you know how?"

Eddie scoffs. His hair is tied back in a low ponytail and while he's not wearing a suit, he looks smart in a button down and black slacks. "I know how. Have some faith, sweetheart." He gently grabs both of your wrists and brings them on either side of his neck. "You hold on here, and I'll hold on here." His palms are warm on your hips through the fabric of your dress. You hope he can't hear your heart racing.

"I'm impressed, Munson," you say. Eddie always impresses you. He's your best friend, the person who knows you most, the one who has your heart, even if he doesn't know it. He's kind and sweet and funny and brave and dorky and you love him.

"Gotta keep you on your toes." Your fingers wind in his curly ponytail as you sway to the song. There are couples around you but it's hard to focus on them when he's so close. You could count his eyelashes if you wanted to.

"The couple of the hour looks happy," you whisper. Eddie subtly looks around until he finds them pressed against each other in their own world.

A soft smile transforms his face. "They do," he says. "They like, won the game of love."

You laugh softly. "What does that even mean?"

Eddie looks at you, really looks at you. He pulls you a little closer, soft smile turning shy. "They were friends first, right? So they knew each other real well, had love for each other before it grew into something else."

His thumbs are tracing patterns on your hips. It's like every second of your friendship flashes before your eyes -- all the laughter, the tears, the touches. The girlfriends you tried so hard not to hate and the boys who never made you feel as safe and loved as Eddie does.

"Is that how you want it to happen for you?" you ask him. His face is so close now that your noses brush as you sway.

"I think it's going to happen for me that way," he says. "At least, I hope it does. If I get my act together."

The song finishes up and you tug him close, dragging your nose along his cheek as your lips reach his ear. "I think that's a good idea," you say. His fingertips press into your hips and he inhales sharply. "Let me know when you're ready."

You kiss his cheek softly before darting to the bathroom, half-hoping he'll follow.

(He does.)

join the celebration!

#fvsbeachday #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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call-me-little-sunshine84 · 10 months

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Blurred Lines pt 1 (Kendall Roy x f!reader ~ 18+)

Explicit ~ Minors DNI

Characters: Kendall Roy x female reader

Summary: you work with Kendall and he has an active fantasy about how your first time together will go

WC: 950

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, voyeurism if you squint maybe

A/N: I don't even know where this came idea came from 🤣. There's just not enough Kendall smut. Basically, the whole thing takes place in his head.

Part 2 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Kendall Roy wanted something, nine times out of ten he got it. What you didn’t know, what no one knew, was that what he wanted right now, what he desired more than anything, was you.

He had first noticed you a few months ago. You were a new hire at Waystar Royco, you had to be, he thought. Otherwise, he would have known about you. You were impossible to ignore. You commanded the room, even without speaking. People wanted to just be near you, to be in your orbit.

He watched you for a while, observing you from the safety of his office. It wasn’t just your body he admired, although he did definitely like that - the way your skirts clung to all your curves and your blouses always had the top button undone, showing just a small hint of what was underneath. No, he also appreciated the little things about you that everyone else seemed to take for granted - the way you bit your bottom lip when you were really concentrating, the lilting laugh you had when someone told a joke, the way you held your head down and did your job but were also not afraid to stand up to the boys club you were surrounded with.

You had spoken a few times, brief pleasantries or details for upcoming meetings, but not much more. He was technically your boss, and he was trying to control himself.

Inevitably though, you became almost an obsession for him. Consuming his every thought, he found himself falling behind at work, completely unable to concentrate. Looking for hidden meaning in every smile you directed his way, he felt like a teenager with a crush. His only relief came when he was home alone at night, with just his mind and his hand.

He had an entire scenario of how it would finally happen running through his head night after night: you would finally notice him, really notice him at work. Maybe after yet another long, boring presentation you both had suffered through. He would take you by the hand and lead you back to his office. Words wouldn’t be necessary. He would kiss you slowly, finally acting on all of the impulses he had held at bay for so long.

Unzipping his pants, he began stroking himself, already hard just thinking about it.

You would respond to him hungrily, obviously feeling the same way about him. The kiss would deepen, all tongues and teeth and lust. You would moan his name and it would be the sweetest sound he had ever heard. His fingertips would ghost over the hem of your dress, then slowly move up the inside of your thighs, barely touching you, the promise of what was coming making you more wet than you had been in a very long time.

Once his hand did reach your now-aching center, he would push aside your soaked panties and run his fingers through your slippery opening. He would have you backed against the wall for support, otherwise you might be on the floor from the feeling of his fingers curling inside you, repeatedly hitting all the right places. Taking his time, he would relish the look of absolute rapture on your face, knowing he was the cause of it. The noises you made would make him hard instantly.

He would take off your dress and unhook your bra, his mouth finding your hardened nipples. You would arch your back, begging for relief. “Ken….Kendall…” you would gasp as he quickly undid his zipper. Wrapping your legs around him, in mere seconds he would be inside you, where he had wanted to be for so long. Buried to the hilt, he would fit perfectly, like you were made for each other. Who knew, maybe you were. Each perfectly paced thrust of his hips would bring you closer to the edge.

He would then carry you over to his desk, pushing everything off into the floor and sitting you on top. Entering you again, the change in angle would have you groaning, pushing your hips hard against him, not able to get enough of him.

He put a hand against the wall and kept stroking himself, all these thoughts running through his head making his dick throb and pulse with need.

He would move a hand down to circle your clit, making your legs shake, working your body closer to climax. When it did overtake you, you would rake your nails down his chest, digging in and leaving behind crescent moons that he would wear proudly, loving the thought or being marked as yours.

Your name and a string of curses would fall from his lips as he came inside you. Afterward, he would hold you on the couch in his office, kissing your forehead and making sure you were okay, hoping this was just the first of endless encounters between you.

He wanted to make you feel like he was the only man in the world, all you would ever need. The feeling of being inside you would be like heaven on earth. Even though he was a man who could afford to have anything he wanted, all he really wanted was for you to stay by his side, maybe forever.

As this fantasy played itself out in his head, Kendall felt himself letting go, spilling his seed all over the Italian marble floor. He had to find a way to make this a reality. He couldn’t keep this up; he was driving himself crazy. How hard could it really be?

#kendall roy smut #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x you #succession smut #kendall roy fic #kendall roy imagine

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choccyhearts · 1 year

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Clogged Drain (Eddie Munson x Reader) (18+)

Note: I've had this idea buzzing around my head for a while ^_^ not sure when part 2 will be posted tho

CW: 18+!! Oral sex (m & f), recorded sex, talk of pornos, looots of dirty talk/innuendos, fem!/afab!reader

You and Eddie have always had a healthy sex life. Always willing to try anything, you guys have discovered things about each other you didn't know were there!

A few years into marriage, you anticipated the inevitable dry spell to happen, but it never did. You both came up with spicy ideas to keep things interesting.

So, one day you came up with an interesting fantasy that Eddie immediately got on board with.

A sex tape.

You joked about how silly, but also really hot, it would be to film a sex tape. Eddie thought it was a great idea, but you wanted to take it a little further. You told him you wanted to shoot it like a real trashy porno movie -- a stupid plot, bad acting, euphemisms and innuendos aplenty, and a variety of camera angles.

Eddie was a little skeptical, worried you wanted to film an actual film in front of people, but you reassured him the two of you could pull it off.

You already owned a video camera and some tapes, so your fantasy wasn't too hard to create. All you had left to do was get some costumes and a basic outline for a script and you were set.

And that's how you ended up standing in the kitchen wearing a skimpy dress and an apron with heels pretending to wash dishes. The video camera was pointed at you as it sat on the counter behind you.

Eddie walks in wearing an unbuttoned shirt with a white tank top underneath, a pair of old jeans, his pair of work boots and clutched in his hand is his tool box.

"'Scuse me ma'am," Eddie drawls.

You turn and face him surprised.

"Oh! Hello! You must be the plumber!" He nods.

"Yes ma'am. Sorry I let myself in, door was open", his eyes scan your body.

"Oh it's no problem at all!" You stop "washing the dishes" and take off your rubber gloves.

"So, what seems to be the problem?"

"Well", you bend over and open the cabinet under the sink. "This has been having trouble draining, I think it's clogged." You turn to him and innocently bat your eyes.

Eddie stares at your ass as it peaks out from under your dress. Already, he's sporting a semi just from looking at his beautiful wife.

He clears his throat," Clogged drain? That's an easy fix. Shouldn't take me too long..."

You move out of the way and let him kneel down to inspect under the sink.

"That's so good to hear! I guess it must've been a while since I had my...drain snaked. I would do it myself but...I think other people do it best." You twirl your hair as you gaze down at Eddie. He looks up at you, a smirk on his face.

"Of course, ma'am. Sometimes it takes a new set of hands to reach the right spot." Eddie winks and you walk over to the camera to turn it off.

Immediately, you both burst into giggles. Eddie waves for you to come over to him but you shake your head.

"Mm-mm, save it for the video."

"Ahh, baby, please. I need to touch my wife", Eddie pouts.

"And you will", you begin to set up the camera in a different angle. "Later."

Once the camera is ready, Eddie lies under the sink on his back. You press record before bringing over a glass of lemonade.

"Here you go, sir. Thought you might be thirsty from working so hard."

Eddie crawls out from under the sink and takes the lemonade.

"Ah, thank you ma'am." He takes a swig and smiles. "So sweet. Ya know, I love tasting...sweet things."

You giggle in character which makes Eddie almost break. You take the glass away from him and kneel down beside him.

"So, have you made any progress?"

"Almost. This clog seems to be a big one. Must've been a real long time since you had it fixed, huh?"

"Yes sir", you blush.

"Well, in the future, you should call me. Don't want it getting to the point of frustration, would we?"

"No sir", you shake your head. You feel your pussy throb as you begin to get turned on. It was hard not to, honestly. In this shot, Eddie now has his button-up off and a little grease on his face.

You feel ready to pounce on him but decide to wait it out just a liiitle longer.

Eddie goes back under the sink and pretends to work. You begin to play with the collar of your dress and eye Eddie's body.

"So, do you work out for the job or is that something you do for fun?"

Eddie chuckles, hearing the way your voice wavers a bit. He can tell you're slowly getting needier and needier.

"Actually, I don't work out at all. The job keeps me in shape enough."

You sigh dreamily and gently place your hand on his stomach.

"Wow, your wife must be happy."

"Nah, don't got a wife."

"Oh...a girlfriend?"

"Nope, no girl in my life."

You hum and rub his stomach softly.

"What about you, ma'am? Pretty little thing like you's got to have a man who'd kill me if he saw me alone with you."

You giggle and slowly lift his shirt up, admiring his torso. Eddie wasn't ripped or toned, but he still looked reaaal good. He had a nice stomach with enough pudge to show he definitely ate his fair share of your cooking. He also had a gorgeous happy trail that always made you feel flushed when you saw it.

"Nope, I don't have a man. I'm all alone here...that's why I needed to call you to fix my drain."

"Aw, that's quite a shame. Bet'cha if you had a man, you'd know how to treat him right, huh?"

You notice how his bulge grows larger. You delicately run your fingers along the outline, biting your finger on your other hand.

"Yes sir. I would keep him very happy." You press down on his bulge with more pressure and he shifts his hips, wanting to just ravage you immediately.

"Hmm...seems this drain issue is bigger than I thought. It might take longer than expected. That okay?"

You nod, "Yes sir."

You go back to rubbing his dick through his jeans as he tries his best focus on not moaning just yet.

"Is there anything I can do for you while you work?"

"Mmm", he hums. "I think you know what you could do."

You smile and begin to undo his belt. Eddie feel excitement pool into his stomach. He knows what's about to happen, I mean of course he does, but for whatever reason this time is even more exciting.

You undo his pants and slide them off, leaving his underwear on. You palm him through the thin fabric and feel a wet spot soaking through.

"Wanna show me how you would keep a man happy?"

"Yes, sir."

You pull down his underwear and gasp at his size. While he knows you're doing it for the camera, Eddie can't help how much his ego swells. You slowly begin to pump his cock,face shocked by the size.

"That's a good girl", Eddie mutters.

You speed up your pace, rubbing your thumb over the tip. You can't help but marvel at Eddie. This is definitely not your first time, but just getting to sit back and really get a look at him makes you truly drink in his beauty.

"Think you could suck it?"

"Mmm, yes, sir."

You let a glob of spit fall on to the head of his cock, using your hand to lubricate his size. You slowly lean your head down before sitting back up.

"Wait!"

"What's wrong?", Eddie struggles to quickly get out from under the sink.

"Need to change the angle!" You get up and stop recording. You take the camera off of the tripod and hold it out for Eddie. "Here!"

"You want me to...?"

"Yeah, it'll be interesting, like 'POV'!""

"Alright, as long as I'm the only one who sees this 'POV'." You giggle and nudge Eddie before sitting back on the floor.

Eddie leans his back against the cabinet and begins recording.

You wrap your hand around his cock again and slowly lower your head down. You kiss the tip before opening your mouth and taking him in. Eddie sucks his teeth as he watches you.

He's seen you do this countless amount of times but seeing it through the viewfinder makes it feel sexier.

He gently sets a hand in your hair.

"Ooh, such a good girl. Mmm, you suck it so nice."

You hum in acknowledgement and continue hollowing your cheeks around him. Eddie brushes your hair away from your face and strokes your cheek. You continue stroking the length you can't fit in your mouth, your other arm propped up on his legs for balance.

"Oh, christ. Your mouth feels so good, baby." Eddie is usually a dirty talker during sex, so this isn't much different than your usual times together. However, since it's now on camera, recorded forever, you think his dirty talk is hotter. Despite the fact that this tape will never see the light of day, if someone were to see it, they'd know how good you take care of Eddie. How quickly you can turn him into putty in your hands.

After a few more minutes, Eddie begins to get antsy.

"You're such a good girl, lemme show that pussy of yours some lovin'".

He turns off the camera and sets it down. You sit up and try to fix your hair but Eddie pulls you by the throat into a kiss.

"Mmm, shit, you're so hot. I just need to fuck you now", he moans into the kiss.

"Mhm...not yet." You pull away and Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers before picking up the camera.

He presses record just as you begin to untie your apron. You pull it off and throw it far away from you.

"Such a sexy body, I need to see what's under that dress."

You blush and slowly pull the dress over your head, tossing it over to the apron. Now you're sat in a new set of lingerie, bought specifically for this occasion. Eddie nearly drools at the sight.

"Oh ffffuck, that's so sexy." You slowly pull down your panties and toss them at him. With the camera, he looks down at the panties in front of him. "Oh, sugar, they're so damp."

He lifts them up to his nose and sniffs them offscreen.

"Eddie!", you whisper shout to him, breaking character.

"What, I can't have some fun?", he says before tucking the panties in his back pocket. He points the camera back at you and you spread your legs wide open for him.

"I know you said you like sweet things, so why don't you come here and give me a taste?"

Eddie dives into your pussy, setting the camera on your stomach. You quickly hold it and angle it towards him as he eats you like a starved man.

"Oh! God!" He leans away and spits on your clit before going back in, tongue twirling around. He gently nudges his index finger against your entrance, checking if it's safe to enter. "Please, sir."

He chuckles and slips his finger inside. The wet squelches and obscene squeaks are a bit embarrassing, but honestly you couldn't even pretend to care. If there's anything Eddie's amazing at, it's eating pussy.

Your hands shake as you try to hold the camera steady. Eddie glances up at it occasionally, smirking into the lens. He'll stare straight into the camera and over enthusiastically lick your pussy, as if making sure the imaginary audience understands that this is his territory and only he gets to be down there.

After Eddie has slipped a second finger into you you're ready to hit your climax. He doesn't slow down, instead keeping a steady pace, ready for your sweet juices.

"Oooh, fuck! I'm gonna cum! Fuck, I'm gonna cum, sir!"

"Yeah, that's it, sugar. Cum for me. Cum on my fingers."

You do just that, tensly holding on to the camera while Eddie helps guide you along. Once you come down he pulls out his fingers and pops them into his mouth.

"So fucking sweet, baby. I need to get a drink from the source." He leans down and sticks his tongue inside your pussy. You whine and pull at his hair, overstimulated but loving his touch.

He slurps and kisses your pussy, eyes closed happily.

"So delicious. If I was your man, I'd have to eat you up every morning for breakfast." He sits up and licks his lips.

You smile up at him and mouth "I love you". He winks at you, letting you know he means it back.

"Well", he pulls off his tank top. "Looks like we've made some progress in that clogged drain. However, I think I need to get deeper in there to help."

"How deep, sir?", you say innocently. Eddie has to hold back a grin so he doesn't break character.

"All the way, darling."

(Part 2)

Stopping this here for a breather ^_^

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #st4

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shortpplfedup · 7 months

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Only Friends Character Rankings Episode 5

It's The Date Episode! And honestly, fucking outstanding. The core six pair off and spend the day lying to themselves and each other. It's mostly cute and sweet but the undercurrent of shit about to hit the fan hangs over the entire episode. It's sort of the calm before the storm. Last week, Boston held onto his top spot in the viewer rankings for the second week in a row, with Ray and Nick rounding out the leaderboard. Can the most miserable bastard in the world do the hattrick? Here's this week's winners and losers.

🔺1. Top (2)

Why don’t you try Lasik? A friend of mine had it, and they said their eyesight is so much better. But now that I think about it…I don’t want you to get it now. I like you better looking like a nerd.

Look, ain't nobody more surprised than me, but this man legit got every goddamn thing he wanted this ep. Top putting on the perfect man act (and I am more convinced than EVER that it's an act) was fascinating to watch. Studiously ignoring all the various signals put out by various other men all day, knowing Mew's eyes are on him. The fucking INSTAGRAM COUPLE PHOTO. And then the knockout blow: when he looked Mew dead in the eye and said 'I love you' I said out loud OH YOU MANIPULATIVE MOTHERFUCKER WELL PLAYED. Do I think Top has bad motives towards Mew, no. I just think he likes the idea of Mew a lot more than he actually likes Mew. And now that Mew's given up that bussy, I'm counting down to Top finding a mistress to give him some variety.

🔺2. Nick (3)

-You’re acting weird. -Weird how? I’m just… I’m just shuffling up my style.

Speaking of getting everything you want, Nick looked like he won the lotto when Boston started talking about settling down. Never mind that Nick is doing ALL of Boston's work for him. Never mind that 3 separate people have now told Nick that Boston ain't shit. Nick is euphoric. Nick has ascended. Nick is doodling 'Mr. Nick Boston's-last-name' in his Trapper Keeper. Nick is going to the gym and dressing more upscale. Nick is giggling when Boston asks to spend the night instead of fucking off as soon as they finish fucking. Nick is headed for a crash so great I'm SALIVATING.

🔺3. Boston (6)

I feel like I should stop sleeping around for a bit. It’s been feeling so empty lately. In the end, I want to have sex with someone I can… talk to for a little, you know? Like, have great sex, have good chats, and…someone I can get affectionate with. Right now…there’s only you.

Told y'all you can't keep a bad bitch down for long and Boston's already bouncing back. He might have had a moment of weakness and tried to be nice for exactly one day, but Nick getting drunk and stoned and running his mouth about how cute Sand and Ray were activated his asshole glands. He smelled happiness and said NOT ONE FUCK OF THAT ON MY WATCH. Boston is that Marie Kondo gif, he fucking LOVES mess no matter how much he goes on about hating drama. He will always poke the hornet's nest. Shutting the fuck up was free, but he just COULDN'T. And thank god, because Ray punching him in the mouth was like 3 of the 5 top things that happened this ep.

🔻4. Ray (1)

-That’s a nice top. Where did you get it? -This thing? It’s secondhand.

Whew Ray's day slummin' it was so classic I shed a tear. I can't really adequately describe his facial expression through the whole day, but 'condescending amusement' is closest. His enjoyment of Sand's company is very real, as are his attraction and hints of affection, but he absolutely does not consider that man his equal, and that's why he doesn't even consider the 'boyfriend' label. No matter what Ray's feeling, Sand's demi-monde, not part of his world. He likes that Sand treats him like he's special, he likes that Sand seems to always want him around, he likes that Sand will take care of him, but he'll never take Sand seriously. This would be true even if he wasn't in love with Mew, but being in love with Mew makes it all worse. Pathetic, I love it.

🔹5. Sand (5)

I work. I save up money. I sleep. I dream. I go to bed alone, wake up, and go to work. Until…he came along. It’s like somebody presses pause on all my 24 hours. Next thing I know…I’m living my 25th hour. Ray’s extra hour.

Oh SAND. I've been saying from jump this is hurting most because SAND KNOWS BETTER. When Sand called Ray his 25th hour I wanted to SCREAM because BABY BOY YOU KNOW BETTER. This dude is either drunk or hungover all of those same 24 hours you are grinding out a living, but you wanna spend your birthday with him because he makes you feel sparkly. He stays sneering at how you ain't got no money and work 17 jobs, but because he does it with a twinkle in his eyes you're blind and deaf all of a sudden. He told you HIS MOTHER DRANK HERSELF TO DEATH and you pour him another drink. I ain't feeling sorry for Sand anymore, he did this to himself.

🔻6. Mew (4)

-Does this mean I passed your test? -Yeah. You’ve convinced me that you really only have eyes for me.

Mew really tried to play a player and ended up playing himself instead. Like, in one way he's won: Top's his boyfriend, and honestly very likely to stay that way. But Mew should have been careful what he wished for because 'boyfriend' and 'faithful lover' are two very different things.

⭐7. Sand's mom

You keep nagging at me, you know that? Who between us is the mother, exactly?

WE AIN'T MET THIS LADY FOR NOTHING! My Sand/Top half brothers theory LIVES!

⭐8. Summer

Sorry to chat you up, but I’m alone, after all.

Poor girl's a hottie but didn't stand a chance.

#only friends the series #bless this mess #only friends weekly character rankings #i support gay wrongs #only friends #only friends series #bl meta series

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xjulixred45x · 1 year

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Korra Gang X Geisha (LoK) Reader

Characters: Korra, Mako, Bolin and Asami Sato

Genre: Headcannons

Warnings: mentions of prostitution, Fluff, by Reader's profession, female pronouns will be used.

Geisha: Japanese girl who is dedicated to entertaining and keeping men company by dancing, singing, reciting poetry, serving tea, etc.; She is dressed in the traditional Japanese dress.

Korra

Most likely, she met you during Book 2, at the gathering in honor of Unalaq and the northern water tribe. Being a relatively important event there is also specialized entertainment, so you and some girls from your house were hired to make the meeting a little less tense. Korra found it endearing even if she had no idea what a Geisha was.

Sometime after the banquet, her curiosity got the better of hee and she decided to go ask you directly about it. You were shocked to say the least. The avatar was talking to you! So while the conversation and explanation flowed well, you were a constant nervous wreck.

As you explain them to Korra, her face lights up a bit more, it's interesting how something seemingly simple actually requires years of understanding, and she respects that a lot.

Suppose you stay in Republic City to independently improve your abilities, rest assured, Korra welcomes you with open arms and plenty of moral support.

Going straight to the dating stage, korra is someone who like I said not only supports your work but sees all the effort and training behind it, you're not smart but you can do things she could only dream of . play an instrument? do you dance? Poetry? DO YOU SING? DO YOU SING FOR HER?

a lot of emotion

Since she goes to important events from time to time, I think I would encourage you to go with her and promote your services, if you agree, she stays around to play it safe. You never know.

And if you decide not to, she'll probably talk about it a bit anyway (especially if the person she's talking to has money).

Now, in case someone gets confused with what you do (like the Oirán example) it is already there to prevent any advance, if it is something innocent (ignorance) it will only give a warning, but if it is an important physical advance, it will Sorry friend, say goodbye to your teeth.

Genuinely offended that someone could mistake you for something like that (no offense).

In short, she finds it very endearing and above all admirable, she respects hard work and you deserve all the respect (and love) in the world for her.

Asami

She goes to meetings often, so it is to be expected that there will be entertainment in those meetings, especially if it is about Barrik for example.

But was pleasantly surprised when you performed your act(dances), expecting something much more "Barrik" so it was a breath of fresh air.

Most likely she researches geishas after that and she becomes more interested in it, she wants to know more in a practical way. So she makes sure to subtly tell Barrik that Geisha training would be appropriate in the future, and he agrees.

The next few times you're hired for meetings, your main activity is striking up a conversation with Asami, and being both well-read and intelligent women, it's not difficult at all.

She's delighted with this, you're someone with above-the-average general knowledge, which makes her initial interest grow bigger and bigger the more times you see each other.

When they start a relationship, as I said, she investigates more about the profession and solves her doubts, maybe I asked you, but at the same time she wants to learn it herself.

She definitely enjoys her chats with you a lot, but if she chose another activity to do with you, it would be listening to you play the Shaimen, especially when she's stressed (Barrik's to blame in most cases).

I probably can't make it to all of your events, so I'd ask if you'd like to have something like a bodyguard in case my mother-in-law does something (including asking Bolin or Mako to be there for a while as a favor), and if you say no, it will want you to update it from time to time to be calm.

If it were to happen that someone mistakes you while she's around, she'll most likely glare at them before simply walking off with you. He doesn't tolerate that shit.

It is the best option if you want to take advantage of all your knowledge and artistic skills, she is your number one fan and in events your own personal guard.

Mako

You two met through Wu, obviously he was going to have expensive and extravagant entertainment, but to appear a bit more "sophisticated" he hired all the geisha in your house. It was a great opportunity that they could not pass up. .

Mako, being Mako, while he kept up with Wu, he stuck to the only entertainment that REALLY caught his eye. he has no idea what a Geisha is, but he definitely likes her acts a lot more than the ones Wu brought, and you catch on right away and make small talk to him(and later to Wu too, who by the way still doesn't pronounce "Geisha" appropriately).

From then on, Mako sticks like glue every time they go to an event, giving rise to their current relationship.

As you may have noticed, Mako finds it relaxing compared to all the acts Wu himself performs, it's much more entertaining for him at those times, whether it's a normal chat or just listening to some music (especially the Shaimen), even if is in a particularly good mood, he may join you in the dance.

If he didn't know what a Geisha was before, he didn't know what Oirán was, so the first few times you get mistaken for one, think it's part of a geisha hierarchy, other than you just ignore it. , then it does the same.

That is until a guest tries to get too close and the other geishas jump on him and practically kick him out, then they explain in more detail the work of a Geisha and an Oirán, he is left confused. Who would be stupid enough to confuse you like that? Really? The only thing they have in common is white makeup! Has no sense!

From then on,You better hopes to have Mako near he almost always, it's not because he thinks that you can't take care of yourself or that the other geisha can't, but understand, he cares a lot about you and he I don't want you to have a bad time for some idiot being brainless.

He still keeps some distance if you ask him, it's your job after all, he doesn't want to get you in trouble with your teacher.

He likes to see you prepare your makeup, the hairstyles you put on and thinks that Kimonos are much more complex than they seem (and HEAVY), he admires the dedication you give to your work, he compares it to what it is to be a detective for him (yes, that important).

In general, he respects your profession a lot and supports it 100%, just make sure you take care of yourself and that he is calm 👍 and if not, he Will kicks they ass it himself.

Bolin

I honestly believe that they met when you were still training to be a Geisha, he would be the only one who has known what it is for a long time, he asked you many questions. Why is your face so white? Do you even eat? Where are those clothes from? Where do you come from? Are you a princess or something like that (you look like one)? Would you be her friend? etc..

You couldn't spend a lot of time with him because the training is very demanding, but he was always very friendly with you, you didn't have to say no, so your few days off you and Bolin would go for a walk around republic city, just do things of your own. age, go to pro-bending tournaments, drink some tea, etc.

It really makes you feel better about yourself thanks to those little moments, obviously being a Geisha was what you wanted, but it wasn't easy.

Luckily Bolin is there to give you moral support! Once he tried to get into the Okiwa house to cheer you up and they kicked him out, he learned his lesson, don't worry.

When you're FINALLY an official Geisha, expect Bolin to celebrate with you as if it's an achievement for both of you, he knows full well how much that title means to you so he's so glad.

Unfortunately it also made your already limited free time even more scarce, you had to learn in the field, so you constantly went to parties and events that left you exhausted.

Luckily Bolin, although a bit sad, fully understood, you worked so hard for this and he doesn't want you to lose it because of him.

However, on some occasions you escape from homework and go to do things like see him in his pro-control training, which seems to give him a very high energy rush, if you can't attend, dream of asking them to turn on the radio to listen to the game and the next day you congratulate him for winning or console him for losing. Before you know it, their apparently platonic relationship turned romantic, they don't know how it happened, but I don't know what they're complaining about

As far as you work, Bolin is THE BEST about it, he can even learn how to do your makeup and thus 1. Spend more time together and 2. give you a hand, he even does some really nice hairdos.

If someone confuses you with an Oirán, he react SO OFFENDED (even more than you). Really upset about something like that, I mean, even HE sees the difference. Is it really that hard to understand that they are not the same thing?

He definitely loves dancing above all else, he joins you and they even give him a fan to match.

Best boy ever, both as a boyfriend and as an assistant for the functions.

#avatar: tlok #atla and tlok #tlok fanfic #the legend of korra #legend of korra x reader #korra #asami sato #tlok bolin

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imliterallyjustablackgirl · 3 months

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Sydcarmy hate

I love reading all our meta about Sydcarmy so, I got curious and start dabbling in another ship of our fandom on Tumblr and their meta of theirs. Because truly, I like variations of ships and I wanted to read more about the Bear overall and hum...Oh boy, the sydcarmy hate is so...Weird to me?

You don't have to like our ship but even in your ship tag..? It's always backhanded too ; they start with denying their chemistry, while playing safe and saying somewhere in their argumentation that friendship is a safer option and state everything as if it was a fact.

Even going to the point of doubting the actors's work with each other ( Like Jaw and Ayo chemistry on screen). So, they have enough chemistry to be friends but not lovers. Why can't they be both? Friends to lovers. You can separate Syd and Carmy from Ayo and JAW. These are characters and people who act them are actors. Two different things. Maybe for you, Ayo and JAW are just friends, which is true, but Syd and Carmy don't present themselves like that to the viewer, sorry if that viewer wasn't you. This baffled me because they aren't they nomi- you know what.

Plus, I really dislike the backhanded aggressive-passiveness; the ''I know I'm going to get attacked for this '' when in reality, most of us have screenshots of our argumentation and examples. We explain our point of view, the people who attack the ship, not so much. It's backhanded because you must not have read nor dabbled in our ship to understand it. Which would be fine, if it didn't make it look like it was based on nothing. - But saying that you will get attacked for this... Interesting. It's not because you see an influx of people shipping our ship and being tolerant that it wasn't a wild ride there.

Luckily, I haven't seen Sydcarmies get personally attacked but we did see the ship being picked on everywhere on the internet and used as clickbait. Basically, using our interest and perspective of the show against us to a certain degree. Because, our interpretation of the show is literally laughed at, us seeing things through the lenses of Sydcarmy is as if because love stories are seen as redundant and Carmy is seen as this white guy people can transfer onto, rough around the edges of wtv, so it's as if it's below him. As if Carmy as a character wasn't deserving of a love story. Or that Syd has a character wasn't deserving of Carmy, that by the way @unladyboss made a post about how Carmy dresses and how Jaw dresses, and I think some of you cannot cope with the idea of Syd being with JAW not Syd being with CARMY. Despite, Carmy being a fine man. So, why would you be surprised...That people who are being basically laughed at wouldn't defend themselves for the reason they are being laughed at.

The person who inspired this post just makes me think they have biases. My fellow Sydcarmies have already dismantled a lot of that type of comments, the lack of chemistry, the friendship and the ship, so I won't go further but yeah, it's weird.

Edit: It's weirder because you realize that there's truly no place for us to just enjoy the bear if it ain't our spot?

#sydcarmy #the bear fandom #carmy x sydney

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artzychic27 · 11 months

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Omigod I saw Jean and Austin T as the Phantom and Christine, and had an idea.

Turns out that Jean secretly helped Marc to create Count Marcula, and in return, Marc helped him create "The Phantom of DuPont". He plays spooky tunes on a pipe organ, does the whole, "ghost in the mirror" thing thanks to one of Max's holograms, and flirts with his lovely boyfriend, dressed as Christine.

Also, Jean and Marc (along with Rose and Juleka), act as though they've just arrived at this school (as their spooky characters. I thought it'd be funny if Rose and Juleka were in on it too, with Rose being Ghostface.)

At the end, Count Marcula, The Phantom of DuPont, Ghostrose and Juleka Voorhees scare the daylights out of their classmates, with Nathaniel and Austin happily watching. It ends with them all going on a spooky triple date. The next day they act as if they were never there on Halloween "out sick."

If it's too much, lemme know. I just really loved your choices.

Marc: Okay, I've got the smoke machine, the face putty, and the ghost mirror, do you have my-

Jean: Yes, I've got your gallon of fake blood. *Sets a huge bucket of blood on the table with some difficulty* Do you really plan on using all of this?

Marc: How else am I going to strike fear into the hearts of my fellow students?

Jean: Okay, valid.

*Rose and Juleka walk in wearing their masks and carrying fake knives*

Rose: Hey, guys! Sorry, we're late! We were out getting knives. Watch this. *Stabs her hand, but there's no cut* It's one of those movie knives!

Juleka: And I got more blood. *Holds up a bucket of blood* So, the fake desk is almost done, and I'm gonna look badass bursting through it, by the way.

Jean: I had no doubts. Rose, how's your Ghostface voice?

Rose: *Ghostface voice* You tell me.

Marc: We're gonna traumatize so many people. But before that... *Holds up a key* Who wants to traumatize Austin Armbruster?

Austin A: *Screaming like a maniac* LOOK! SEE HIM?! SEE THE VAMPIRE?! AAAAHH!! *He sees Rose in her Ghostface costume standing in the corner of the room, and the two just stare at each other*

Rose: ... AAAAAHHH!!

Austin A: AAAAAHH!!

Nino: I... I just... How?! *Points to Jean gliding across the courtyard through a fine mist covering the floor* He's not on a hoverboard or anything!

Cosette: Tis the power of theater.

Nino: That makes no sense.

Cosette: Shut up, Bruno. We don't talk about you.

Lila: *In the bathroom; Splashing water in her face* There are no vampires. There are no vampires. *When she looks back up at the mirror, she sees Juleka in her Jason costume standing behind her with a machete* AAAAHH! *Runs out of the bathroom* C'è un assassino in bagno!

Kim: Bam! Proof! *Holds up several Polaroid photos* These prove Marc's a vampire!

Alix: ... There's nothing in these photos.

Kim: Exactly!

Max: Kim, I love you, but maybe give it a rest.

Kim: Max, as long as there's a vampire, a phantom, and two murderers lose in this school, I'm not resting for anything.

Austin A: *Runs by screaming* HAUNTED LOCKER ROOM!

Kim: See? He's not resting.

Simon: *Walking into the basement with Denise* I'm telling you, it's coming from down here.

Denise: Well, why down here? I'm already freaked out with Rose and Juleka running around in those masks.

Simon: Maybe it's nothing, but I swear I heard piano music coming from- *Piano music plays* There it is again. I just wanna see- What the hell...

*They walk in on Jean and Austin T making out on a chaise lounge next to a grand pipe organ*

Denise: ... How did they sneak those in here?

Simon: Let's just back away.

Aurore: *She answers her phone* Hello?

Rose: *Ghostface voice* Do you like scary movies?

Aurore: Uh... I guess?

Rose: Do you enjoy the one where the blonde girl gets killed first?

Aurore: ... Who is this?!

Rose: Just a friend. A friend who's warning you to not leave your classroom, Aurore.

Aurore: WHO THE HELL IS THIS?!

Zoé: Aurore! It's probably just Rose! Remember? She's Ghostface.

Aurore: Oh... Yeah... Right.

Zoé: *Her phone rings* Hold on. *Answers* Hello?

Rose: *Normal voice* Hi, Zoé! Would you mind bringing my textbook to my place? I'm at the orthodontist's right now, I'm gonna be on laughing gas, it's a whole thing.

Zoé: ...

Rose: Zoé?

Aurore: Th... Then who-

Rose: *Ghostface voice* I hope you are not leaving your classroom, Aurore. I'd hate for you to get hurt.

Nino: Nath! Bud! What did Marc do to you?!

Nathaniel: *Smiling like an idiot* Nothin' I did not want.

Alix: I think he means the two bullet holes in your neck.

Kim: Who needs more proof?! I think those bite marks say it all!

Lila: *Still shaken up* Oh, I'm sold.

Kim: Alright, first we drive a stake through Nath's heart, and then Marc's. It's the only way.

Alya: Or, let's not commit murder.

Kim: It's not murder if he's undead.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #marc x nathaniel #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant #answered ask #ask me stuff #jean duparc

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theharrowing · 1 year

Text

Babyface 🥇 1: Bring it on, Wildflower

An up and coming pro wrestling company hires you to work alongside Kim Seokjin—a rising star in the industry, and everyone’s favorite heel. His arrogance is dashed when he discovers you are not only talented enough to rival his skills, but that he can’t stop thinking about you.

INDEX | NEXT

🥇 Seokjin x Athletic Non-binary (AFAB) Reader 🥇 word count: 8.4k 🥇 rivals to lovers, pro wrestling au, light angst, light fluff, mature, 18+ 🥇 warnings: anxiety and being overwhelmed (general and related to identity), these two are clearly perfect for each other and are both idiots. 🥇 written for the Catch of the Century Collab! 🥇 beta read by @neoneunnajimin 🥇 posted dec. 2022 | read on ao3 🥇 see index for lengthy author notes and small glossary of terms.

Your manager’s words echo through your ears, harsh and uninviting, like salt being ground into a wound. The fluorescent lighting of the large, vacant conference room is suddenly too bright, buzzing under your skin like a poorly connected fuse. You attempt to hold your composure and keep a straight face, but the more his words ricochet, the higher your anxiety spikes.

"Did you hear me?" Jimin asks after a moment of silence, eyes wide and expectant, watching for any minor change in your demeanor like he always does. “You will be partnering up with Kim Seokjin."

And you do your best to keep it cool, but his eyes drop to your mouth the second your jaw twitches, and his lips turn down into a frown while his attempt to smooth things over borders on frantic.

“Look, you and I both know he’s a great showman—“

“Jimin, he’s a heel!”

In all of your career on the women’s team, you were a face—a wrestler the crowd got behind and cheered for; a wrestler loved by all. Joining teams with a heel feels like career suicide.

“I don’t know how to be a heel,” you groan under your breath.

“You can act, darling!” Jimin bites back, already clearly exasperated by this conversation, pushing a hand through his short, dark brown hair.

Tears prick your eyes, and suddenly, the air in the room feels too thin to inhale properly—the walls begin to close in.

“What if the crowd gets the wrong idea,” you mutter, voice cracking around every word. “I was the hero as a woman and now…now I’m the villain.”

“First of all, you are not rebranding,” Jimin offers. “You’re still Wildflower. You just dress less feminine, your hair is short, and your…you know…”

“Tits are gone,” you grumble.

Jimin hums, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. You know that it is not the topic of your gender-reaffirming surgery that makes him uncomfortable, but his fidgeting stresses you out nonetheless. Jimin has been the only person who has supported you since the day you came out, and he has been by your side every step of the way.

But Jimin is empathic and sensitive enough for both of you, and often he doesn’t know what to say, for fear of getting it wrong. You don’t blame him; it’s your identity, and sometimes even you get it wrong. Life is strange, like that.

“I don’t want to work with Seokjin,” you groan, dropping your face into your hands.

“He’s the people’s heel. Everyone loves Seokjin. They love to hate him, and cheer him on when he wins because he has a charming arrogance that draws people to him.”

“He’s insufferable,” you mutter.

Jimin huffs, “He is actually very kind! You’ve just never given him a chance!”

There are a handful of wrestlers you have never tried to schmooze with, and Kim Seokjin is at the top of the list. People love to kiss his ass and say he is kind and wise, but you know better. Wrestlers rarely sway from their true personalities on stage. Assholes portray assholes. That is how it has always been. At the end of the day, the people's heel is still a heel—the character meant to be hated; the bad guy who always breaks the rules.

Not to mention, you can count on one hand how many male athletes have given you the time of day. Usually, once they have a taste of fame and it gets to their heads, everyone who isn’t a cishet male may as well be gum on the bottom of their shoe—and often, even their own kind end up treated the same. There is no way Kim—superstar people’s heel—Seokjin is any better.

With a sigh, Jimin reaches over the table and takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Meet with him and his manager tomorrow. If you absolutely hate him, we’ll postpone your comeback and find you another wrestler.”

“I don’t want—“

“You will not get a better opportunity than this,” Jimin interrupts sternly. “Wildflower teaming up with Worldwide Handsome will be the biggest event of the year. You're being offered a spot in the hot, new company that is already expected to rival the others in the division because of its inclusivity alone, and you and I both know tag team matches are bigger than individual matches, which is why they want you as a team. People won’t be able to keep your name out of their mouths; you will be a crowd favorite overnight.”

What is left unsaid—the truth you are not ready to voice out loud, into the universe—is that you are not sure you are good enough to be on a team with Worldwide Handsome Seokjin. He is one of the most talented athletes in the industry today, and it terrifies you to imagine not being able to keep up with him.

That, and you are not sure how he will take the news that he has to wrestle alongside someone who used to perform as a woman. You dread the things he may say during interviews, even if, by some stroke of luck, he is okay with the idea of working with a non-binary athlete at all. It terrifies you.

“He gets ten minutes of my time,” you concede, knowing damn well Jimin will not accept such a low number, despite his nodding and eyebrow-raising.

“That’s all you need,” Jimin lies, squeezing your hand once more.

You hope like hell that he is right.

You are made aware of Seokjin’s presence not by seeing him, but by hearing the cheers and claps from everyone outside the conference room the moment he exits the elevator. Even Hoseok, your secretary and second best friend in the whole world stands from his seat, waving frantically with the widest smile you have ever seen, like the traitor he is.

The chair you sit in is a monster of black leather on wheels that swivels, and you spin yourself in a circle, kicking your feet out and letting them slam into the metal leg of the large conference table before propelling yourself in the opposite direction. As Seokjin approaches, you decide that perhaps sitting in a chair like this while you are anxious is a bad idea, so you get up and move down to the other end to a group of large, leather stationary chairs, taking a seat in one of those, instead.

With a deep breath, you smooth your hands down your charcoal grey slacks and check your white button-up blouse once more to make sure there are no coffee stains. Then, the door creaks open, and in comes Jimin, followed by Kim Seokjin and his manager, Kim Namjoon. Jimin wears a pink sweater and black slacks that nearly matches the blue sweater and black slacks worn by Seokjin, and Namjoon looks professional as can be in a black button-up tucked into black slacks, with his short, dark brown hair pushed away from his forehead. You stand to greet everyone and tug your lips into a forced smile, and although you are sure your eyes betray you, you do your best to appear happy and collected.

As Seokjin enters, rather than taking a seat across from you, he walks over, takes your hand in both of his, and bows at the hips, nearly touching your conjoined hands with his forehead. You hesitate but follow suit, and when you stand, looking Seokjin in the eye up close, your heart beats heavily in your chest. Seokjin is, indeed, a very handsome man, and with his short, dark brown hair trimmed just above his brow line, his gaze is very focused.

"Wildflower, we finally meet," Seokjin says as his lips break into a hint of a smile.

Warmth rises to your cheeks. "I suppose it was only a matter of time," you respond softly, unsure whether you can say his stage name with a straight face.

After a beat, you loosen your hold on Seokjin's palm with the hopes of him getting the hint and letting you go. He seems to catch on and he gives you one more small bow before taking the seat beside yours, angling himself to face you.

Jimin hesitates, having expected to be the one to sit next to you, then walks around the table, taking his place beside Namjoon. You sit and angle yourself slightly toward Seokjin, avoiding his knees as you shift around. All of this feels unexpected and perhaps a little too friendly for your first meeting, but you keep an open mind.

"I have actually been wanting to meet you for a long time," Seokjin begins. To your left, Namjoon and Jimin open files and quietly shuffle around papers, and you do your best to stay focused. "You were absolutely brilliant while shoehorned into the rolls the last company gave you, in the women's division, and when your team made the coming out announcement, I was very excited."

"Oh?" you ask. Your voice is quiet and meek, and you clear your throat, then glance around the room for some water, finding none.

Seokjin hums. "Your talent and potential are unmatched, but that company didn't favor female athletes, which was a shame. I had actually put in the request several times to be partnered with you, due to your skill level and command over the ring. I was excited to not only receive an offer from the new company, but to find my request finally being granted in a roundabout way."

Seokjin's candor takes you by surprise. There is a sharpness to the way he speaks—an arrogance that you had expected but that makes you shift in your seat. You are also surprised to learn that Seokjin has wanted to work with you before.

"I admit, I know very little about being trans and non-binary," Seokjin continues, "So, for that reason—should you accept our proposal to work together—I hope we can talk openly about the kinds of things you absolutely do not want me to say during promo cuts, interviews, and casual conversations among friends. I do not plan to ever speak for you, but I will be expected to speak about you, and I want to make sure I get it right."

"We have created a questionnaire," Namjoon interjects, pulling your attention to the left, across the table, "so that we can get a sense for how you feel, in the event that you may not be comfortable or ready to discuss anything aloud, today."

A questionnaire feels awkward, and you shake your head, glancing at Jimin, then turn back to Seokjin. "I'm an open book, you can ask me anything now."

"You continue to use your same legal name," Namjoon begins, and you nod, directing your response to Seokjin, who watches you with calm patience.

"Correct. The concept of a dead name doesn't really resonate with me the way it does for others."

"And you identify as non-binary," Namjoon continues.

With a nod, you glance at Jimin, whose warm smile gives you strength. It is not as if this topic is difficult to discuss, but this is only the second time you have had to do it for possible contractual purposes.

"Correct," you respond, turning once more to Seokjin. "Trans is also fine, as it is an umbrella term, but I use the term non-binary."

"It's a spectrum, right?" Seokjin asks softly, and you smile, nodding your head.

The conversation continues like this, never getting too invasive with personal questions, but making sure they understand the terminology you prefer, and getting to know a little more about you, personally. Although it is a bit of a rigid conversation, it feels good to get everything off your chest, and you find yourself warming up to the idea of working with Seokjin.

"So, as you know, I'm a heel," Seokjin says, and suddenly, all of your worries come flooding back.

"That's right," you say, letting your head droop before you can catch yourself.

"And you have always been a face," Seokjin continues, to which you nod. "I don't want you to feel pressured to become a heel for me. I wonder if the two of us could keep the different dynamics that we have already been working with. It might be fun if the two of us acted as if we didn't want to wrestle together, but were given no choice."

You mull it over and consider how fun it could be to play-fight with Seokjin while also having to work with him to defeat the other wrestlers. "What if the crowd turns on you, in favor of me?"

A wide grin spreads on Seokjin's face, forcing your breath to hitch. He really is breathtaking with a cheshire smile and a twinkle in his eyes, and you get goosebumps when he leans in close and says, "Bring it on, Wildflower."

"I love this idea," Jimin pipes up, mercifully pulling your attention from Seokjin. You blink rapidly as you turn to face your manager. "Bickering while assisting one another with an elevated jawbreaker. Maybe even distracting one another and getting knocked out by a member of the other team. A fight within a fight!"

"Yeah, honestly, I like the idea a lot," you admit, though, you imagine how difficult it may be to grab someone who is sitting on Seokjin's shoulders by the head. Perhaps an elevated jawbreaker isn't quite the move, but Jimin is certainly onto something.

"On the issue of your attire," Namjoon adds, "will you continue to wear pink?"

"I would like to," you respond softly. Your outfit has always been pink with blue and silver accents, and, aside from changing the top from a glorified bra to more of a tank top, you like the thought of keeping everything the same.

"So we'll change my uniform colors, then," Seokjin says, raising his eyebrows to Namjoon.

"If you wish," Namjoon responds. "Perhaps, at first, you should join as a mismatched team, and then over time, change your outfit to match their style?"

If you remember correctly, Seokjin's outfit is a burgundy blouse exposing a deep v-line of skin and white slacks.

"Sounds good to me," Seokjin says. "Wildflower?"

You hum, turning your attention back to Seokjin, and nod listlessly. "Sure. That could be cool."

"Do you think I'll look good in pink?" Seokjin asks, holding a hand below his chin and fluttering his eyelashes.

"You'd look good in any color," you respond before you can stop yourself, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks.

Seokjin's eyes widen as he smiles softly, and you curse yourself for being so loose-lipped. You were so determined to hate this man, and here you are, becoming flustered after complimenting him.

"They don't call you Worldwide Handsome for nothing," Jimin chimes in, and Seokjin's smile grows before he turns to face your manager, though his gaze lingers on you just a bit before he does.

The rest of the meeting is more formal, with Namjoon and Jimin going over contractual terms. The discussion returns to your identity and pronouns, and how to address you during promo cuts and interviews, but Seokjin assures you that he will always defer to your advice or keep his mouth shut if he is unsure what to say. At the end of the meeting, Seokjin gives you a firm handshake and bows before leaving, and you sit back at the conference table in a daze.

"Wow, you really stood firm on your unfounded hatred and showed him who's boss," Jimin teases as the door is closed, leaving the two of you alone.

"Shut up," you mutter, unamused.

"He gets ten minutes," Jimin parrots in the slightly higher-pitched voice which he uses to mock you. "Kim Seokjin is like all the other icky men, and there is no way I'm going to work with him."

You cross your arms over your chest and tongue the inside of your mouth. "Are you finished?"

A grin breaks out over Jimin's pretty face. "For now."

Over the next several weeks, you train like your life depends on it. You already work out a fair amount for an athlete, but given that you are going to make your comeback debut with a tall, strong man who you are likely going to have to do complicated wrestling moves with, you have been taking everything to the next level, focusing on your legs, shoulders, and arms.

"What if, on opening night, you and Seokjin enter the ring and immediately attack one another before the other team is announced?" Jimin had suggested, setting your panic into motion.

Sure, you have performed complicated moves with people who were bigger than you plenty of times, but this bout with Seokjin will need to be whiplash-fast and over-the-top if it is going to not only be the crowd's first impression of the two of you as a team, but take place before other wrestlers enter the ring.

You also have no idea what Seokjin may want to do, and you realize as you stand in front of the mirror of your home gym, drinking water while a towel hangs lazily from your neck, that you have no direct way to get in touch with him. You had not exchanged numbers during the meeting.

Stressed about wanting to discuss your comeback with your new partner, you grab your phone, pause the very loud music playing on your home speakers—currently Cream by Mannequin Pussy—and dial your manager.

He answers on the first ring. “Yes, my love?”

“Hey, h-how do I get in touch with Seokjin?”

“You never exchanged numbers?”

You stare at your reflection, dumbfounded. “N—what? No. You were at the meeting.”

Jimin chuckles. “Yeah, I was. But I was distracted by the other Kim in the room. Did you hear how deep his voice was?”

Never a dull moment, you think, pinching the bridge of your nose as you squeeze your eyes closed. Jimin can be heard chuckling through the phone, which lifts your spirits a bit more—not that you would show any indication of the fact.

"Anyway," you grumble, "can you ask deep-voiced-Kim to give me broad-shouldered-Kim my number? Or pass my number along to them?"

"You think Seokjin has broad shoulders?" Jimin teases and you roll your eyes.

"It is a statement of fact."

"Sure, sure," Jimin continues to chide, then adds, "I'll send your number along right now. Thanks for giving me an excuse to hear that deep voice again, darling!"

You deadpan, "I live to serve," as flatly as possible, biting back a grin as Jimin laughs and hangs up.

As you wait, you begin flexing in the mirror to check out your gains, as the kids say. Staying at the top of your game is hard work, and you are always proud to see a reflection staring back that looks ideal for the kind of work you want to do. Then your eyes linger on your chest—flat and muscular. It still takes you by surprise at times—makes you do a double-take and stare. How fortunate and grateful you feel to have been able to take such a step in your life, despite all the various risks.

The sound of your phone dinging pulls you from your thoughts and even makes you flinch. Embarrassed by your jumpiness, you exhale and squeeze your eyes closed for a couple seconds before holding up your phone to find a message from an unknown number.

[Unknown] It has come to my attention that you seek communication with the most handsome man on the planet.

"Ridiculous," you mutter to yourself, holding back a small smile. Seokjin being obsessed with how good-looking he is has certainly become part of his act, but you wonder how much you can stand the performance outside of the ring.

You Oh, sorry! I was actually looking for Kim Seokjin.

You nibble on the inside of your mouth as you watch three dots appear and disappear...then appear and disappear...over and over. Rumor has it that Seokjin has a good sense of humor, and you wait in hope that the rumor is true.

[Unknown] Ah, here I thought I was messaging my pretty, charismatic new partner Wildflower. I guess I have the wrong number.

You Darn! Well, if you see Seokjin-ssi, let him know I need to talk to him.

Once again, three dots appear and disappear. Then, your phone rings. You let it go for a bit, drawing out the tension of the moment, then pick up, shifting around on your feet while staring at the floor.

"Yes?"

Seokjin scoffs in response, then simply says, "Wildflower."

You wonder if he will ever greet you by your name, but decide not to question it. "Kim Seokjin-ssi."

"Please, call me Worldwide Handsome Jin."

"Wow," is all you can say in response, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks.

"I hear you request my presence. Miss me already?"

"Hardly," you deadpan, rolling your eyes. "But I would like to discuss our comeback opener. I guess I'm getting antsy about having no plan."

"Agreed. Come by this week? I can order some dinner and we can discuss what we have in mind, and then—if we're not too full—we can practice some moves."

Dinner sounds nice but at Seokjin's place? You wonder if it would be more convenient to find a restaurant close to one of the rings.

"I'm always down to eat," you respond. "I don't want to put you out, though. We can always find a place near one of the practice rings. Which do you usually reserve?"

Seokjin laughs—a deep, condescending sound. "I have my own ring. Less paperwork and red tape. My dining room happens to be the closest eatery to that location, so it is no trouble at all."

"Oh," you mutter. "Okay."

The conversation cuts after you settle on a date and location. Then, as you let your arm drop to your side and stare at your reflection, reality begins to sink back in. You have to work with Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin's house is massive, and you feel overwhelmed entering the property. Whereas most people you know live in apartment buildings—some very lavish, nonetheless—this man lives on a large swathe of property on a hill just outside the city. Once you arrive, you have to be buzzed into the driveway and wait for a large steel gate to open, granting you access.

As soon as you park your shabby little car behind a large, shiny sedan, Seokjin's front door opens wide. And before you have your seatbelt unclicked, he is already opening your driver's side door and holding his arms out to you.

Even while giving a warm welcome, there is something piercing and dark in Seokjin's eyes. Only once during your previous meeting did they soften—when you said he would look good in anything—and you feel scrutinized under his gaze.

"Welcome!" Seokjin says, pulling you into a hug that is brief but tight, and then turning to lead you into his home.

He wears a simple white tee tucked into blue jeans, and suddenly you feel overdressed in your crisp black short-sleeve button-up tucked into charcoal grey slacks. You had, of course, packed workout gear in the event that the two of you decide to try out some moves in Seokjin's ring, and you lean back into your open car door and reach across to the passenger seat to retrieve your black leather duffle bag before closing up the car and running to join Seokjin in his foyer.

"Shall we eat now or later?" Seokjin offers, standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

You hesitate, then begin to slip out of your shoes as you say, "I'm actually quite anxious, so I don't have much of an appetite."

Seokjin cracks a smile and says, "Perfect! Let's get changed then, and head to the ring?"

With a soft smile, you nod and follow Seokjin to the left, down a set of stairs into a home gym. Surprisingly, the basement is set fairly deep into the foundation, and you are surprised when you peer toward the far end of the large space and see the ceiling rise even higher above a professional-sized wrestling ring.

"It's excessive, I know," Seokjin begins. "But this home actually belonged to my father. It was his idea to build a mansion large enough to house a ring in the basement. I merely inherited it."

Now that he mentions it, you faintly remember hearing that Seokjin's father had also been a wrestler, several generations back. At the time, you probably brushed off the notion and cited nepotism to Seokjin's rise in fame—ignoring, of course, the pure athleticism it takes to be a wrestler of Seokjin's caliber. Bitter thoughts are rarely rational.

Seokjin leads you through a home gym that rivals your own, toward the ring. You grip the leather strap of your bag tightly as your eyes flit over the black ropes, off-white canvas floor, and the various black and red padding over the steel beams holding it all together. Rather than having a skirt covering the underside, it sits open, and you spy ladders, folding tables and chairs, and various other things beneath the ring.

"Bathroom is there," Seokjin says, pointing toward a white door that is cracked open. "Feel free to change and meet me ringside?"

You nod, swallow a lump of nervousness, and head toward the bathroom. Of course, it is a full en suite equipped with a large walk-in shower, and you allow yourself to focus on the details of the room—cream-colored tiles, light marble counters, and gold furnishings—as you untuck your shirt and begin to undress.

Time blurs as you change into your workout gear—black knee-length spandex shorts and a black tank top over a sports bra, which you continue to wear because you like the familiar squeeze of the tight fabric around your ribs. When you return, holding a pair of sneakers in your hand, you nearly stop in your tracks as you find Seokjin standing bent over against the side of the ring in a tight black tank top and shorts. He is tying a pair of shoes, so you join him and lean your butt against the ring, slipping into your own and keeping your eyes off all the dips and curves of his muscular frame. Seokjin's wrestling costume covers him up to the extent that you are not used to seeing so much skin.

"We'll do some warmup stretches and then practice some moves?" Seokjin suggests, stepping away from the ring.

You hum in acknowledgment, pulling your shoelace bow taut and standing up straight. When you turn to Seokjin, he is gazing at you with a straight expression, and you once again feel nervousness under his stare.

After a brief moment, as if coming out of a trance, Seokjin blinks once, twice, then narrows his gaze. "Over text, I called you pretty. I've been dwelling on it since."

"Oh," you respond, trying to think back to the text conversation. Already, it is a bit of a blur. "I assumed you were being cheeky, so don't sweat it."

"I mean," Seokjin begins but pauses, cocking his head slightly. "I guess, what I mean to say is, I don't know if that's a word you mind being called, because of its feminine nature."

"Oh!" You suddenly feel embarrassed, mostly for not realizing Seokjin may have genuinely been complimenting you. "I don't mind. I still think I'm pretty."

Seokjin hums and nods. "Just let me know if I say the wrong thing."

With a shrug, you begin to stretch, pulling your left arm over your chest while your right hand presses against your upper arm, then alternating. "Stuff like that is kind of whatever. I strive to exist between the realm of pretty and handsome, so being both or neither is perfectly fine. They're words that don't really need to be gendered anyway, you know?"

You're rambling, and you catch yourself, clamping your mouth shut while bringing your right knee up to your chest and pulling it close with both hands. Seokjin stands straight from having been touching his toes and rolls his shoulders back.

"True," he says. "Although I find only 'handsome' applies to me. Never saw myself as 'pretty' before."

As you release your right leg and bring your left knee to your chest, you survey Seokjin's face—keeping your eyes off of his body as much as possible. "I disagree. Your eyes are very pretty. As is your smile. You just have more of a classic masculine prettiness, I suppose."

Seokjin glances up and fixes you with an unreadable look. Then, he begins to squat, dropping his gaze to the floor. You could swear the tips of his ears are a deeper shade of red, and you bite back a smile.

Stretching continues in silence, save for labored breaths as you begin to do more complicated, strenuous moves. Then, after an indiscernible amount of time, the two of you hop up and down, shaking out your hands, and looking at the ring.

"Ready?" Seokjin asks with a hint of a smirk.

Truth be told, you are not so sure that you are. As you turn to the ring and approach, your heart pounds so hard, you can hear it booming in your ears. You reach out and grab the bottom rope, feeling the thick layers of tape in your palms, and you squeeze and tug, feeling it pull taut, then release. Without another word, you bend, placing your right arm and leg onto the mat, and roll onto the canvas.

As you stand and get your bearings, Seokjin grabs onto the middle rope and lifts himself, jumping onto the edge of the canvas with both feet. Then, with a bounce, he flips over the top rope, bounding onto the ring with a boom and causing the padded wooden floor to bounce. You stand stunned, watching as your partner—and rival, for all intents and purposes—gets into position, knees bent and hands in front of his chest.

"Come at me, Wildflower," Seokjin mutters with a grin, and you hesitate before stepping forward and contemplating your opening move.

To say Seokjin wiped the floor with you during your first bout would be putting it lightly. In fact, you are pretty sure he went easy on you. Although it was easy to get him into a headlock, as soon as you began to pivot and drop to your knee to bring him to the mat and finish the takeover move, Seokjin lifted you, easily breaking the headlock, and brought you back to your feet—setting you down carefully as if you were delicate—before stepping behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and muttering, "Suplex, tuck your chin," as he brought you both onto your backs.

From there, the two of you called out moves that you were going to try, coming at one another slow enough to make sure you were positioned correctly and that the other had a chance to react. But Seokjin quickly and easily broke out of everything you attempted, and you struggled to make yourself heavy enough for him not to toss around like a ragdoll.

Sweaty and out of breath, the two of you sit on the floor of the ring. Seokjin has his palms on the mat, anchoring himself up, and he stares at the ceiling with his head back. The long, sweaty column of his neck glistens, and you fight back all thoughts of how biteable it looks while making the mistake of allowing your eyes to trail down to his toned arms, and to the shirt that sticks to his pecs and abs.

Truth be told, Seokjin is a walking distraction. Attempting to get the upper hand whenever he flashes a smile, or god forbid a wink, feels impossible. And every time his hands grab your shoulders, ribs, waist, or thighs—all perfectly good places grips with no intent but to perform wrestling moves—you feel something inside you stir.

"I know you're holding back, but that's to be expected," Seokjin mutters. "I was, as well. Let's take a water break and work on choreography?"

You crack a smile, sitting up and stretching your neck from side to side. "Sounds good."

After a quick water break, the two of you begin to choreograph a possible opener. The plan is to come out to the ring from opposite entrances, pissed off and acting as if you want to be anywhere but in the ring with one another.

Seokjin will ham up to the crowd while you hold your chin up and make your way down the ramp, glaring at him from across the stadium. The announcer will say something about an offensive comment Seokjin made about having to work with you, which will piss you off, causing you to scream profanities at him as you advance. Incensed, Seokjin will begin to run for the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and jumping to his feet, holding his arms out in a challenge, and you will also run to meet him.

"Can you enter the ring like I did earlier? Flipping over the ropes?"

You have flipped over the ropes many times in the past, and you nod as you slide from a standing position under the bottom rope and onto the floor. It takes several tries to jump with both feet from the floor to the edge of the canvas, but your legs begin to remember what it feels like.

The first time you grab onto the top rope and jump to flip, you don't get enough air and nearly topple over. Seokjin makes a move to grab you in case you fall, but you find your footing easily, get onto the bottom rope, and try again, this time making it over the top.

"Just need to get the hang of this again," you say as you return to the outside of the ropes and stand on the lower one again, positioned to jump.

Seokjin says nothing, just watches as you flip, reposition, and flip again. After four tries, you stand on the edge of the ring and grab the top rope. As you fling your body over and into the ring, the weightlessness you felt in your early days returns. Before rising to the level of fame that you managed to reach in a short amount of time; before deciding to transition away from the women's team—a move that caused your former employee to fire you—when nothing mattered but the feeling of the canvas-covered wood beneath your feet. The rush of that memory takes hold and carries you to your feet.

Your land is loud and a bit sloppy, and you stumble slightly into your stance, but Seokjin squares up in his squatted position and lunges as if the landing was perfect, and you pull each other into your starter move, with your hands on one another's shoulders.

"We'll tug one another like this," Seokjin says, warm breath ghosting over your face as you stare at his clavicle—scared to look him in the eye this close. "Take wide steps into a circle, and then you'll attempt to knee me, which I'll kick away."

As Seokjin talks, you slowly move, lifting your leg, which he pretends to kick away. The back and forth comes naturally and you fall into step as if performing a dance you know by heart. You manage to get Seokjin into a headlock and attempt to take him down, but he lifts you and flips you over his back.

"From here, the referee should attempt to separate us, but we will continue to lunge at each other, until finally, the other team comes out and pulls us off one another, thus starting the tag team match. I imagine we'll both fight a member of their team for a while, and then one of us will retreat to the corner."

Everything seems perfect, and you practice the choreography several times. Then, when you are worn out, feeling satisfied despite being out of practice, Seokjin slides out of the ring and crosses the room to pull his phone from his pants pocket.

"How does sushi sound," he asks, thumbing around his phone.

"Sounds good," you respond, breathless as you sit in the center of the canvas. Seokjin orders, and you roll unceremoniously out of the ring and follow him up into his house without changing out of your sweaty workout gear.

He has a plain house with scarcely decorated off-white walls. There are paintings here and there that feel sterile, like something you might see at a therapist's office, and it feels to you like they are simply taking up space and making the large rooms feel less empty. His dining room table is large enough for eight, and he has tan marble counters in his kitchen, on which he sets two plates and two sets of utensils, stacked neatly.

You take a seat at the table, close to the end nearest the kitchen island, and wait as Seokjin brings everything over. Ordinarily, you would ask if your host needs a hand, but there is something about being alone with him in his large house that has you retreating and sitting quietly, eager to stay out of the way.

It could also be Seokjin's demeanor. You wouldn't necessarily call him cold, but he isn't really warm, either. Unless he has something constructive to say, he doesn't say much at all, never really engaging in small talk. For years, all people could talk about was how charming and charismatic he is, but the more you get to know him, the more you wonder if those people had ever sat with him like this, one-on-one.

When Seokjin sets the plates down, you jolt. You had been so lost in thought, staring at the lines in the wood grain on the polished table before you that you hadn't seen him approach.

"Jumpy," Seokjin mutters, and you let out a soft chuckle, attempting to dispel some of your anxiety with the breath.

"I get lost in my head sometimes."

"Sorry I'm not very talkative," Seokjin says as he returns to the kitchen. You watch as he opens a large wooden cabinet and takes out two glasses.

"It's fine," you respond after a pause. "I'm not really, either."

"I know."

Awkward. You lift your hands onto the table and fiddle with your fingers, searching for something to say. Your time in the ring together went well, and you think you made good progress, but those words had already been spoken in the moment, and you don't feel like they bear repeating. Seokjin returns with a glass of water and sets it before you, then he takes the seat beside you.

"If I weren't mistaken, I would think you hate me," Seokjin says, taking you by surprise.

When you lift your head, you find him sitting with his body angled toward you and his elbow on the table. His expression is flat, though there is something indiscernible in his eyes, once more.

"I don't hate you," you respond softly, feeling the urge to get defensive but attempting to tamp it down.

Seokjin hums and cocks his head. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

You squint and shake your head, straightening your posture to face him better. "No."

"I know that you originally weren't pleased to work with me—" Seokjin begins.

You squeeze your eyes closed and mutter, "Fucking Jimin," under your breath.

"—but I feel like I have been kind and welcoming."

"You have been."

"So what's—"

"Nothing," you say, voice slightly raised and a little clipped. Surprised by your volume, you clear your throat and feel your shoulders shrink inwardly. "There is nothing wrong. I'm sorry if Jimin said I didn't want to work with you...I just...I don't know. Before I met you, I assumed your whole persona was fake."

Seokjin scoffs, pulling your attention back to him, and you find him studying you with a hint of a scowl. Surely, Seokjin cannot be surprised by how his arrogance on stage has translated to others. His moniker is Worldwide Handsome, for fuck's sake.

Just as Seokjin opens his mouth to speak, the doorbell rings, pulling his attention toward the front door before he momentarily glances back at you and lets out another silent laugh with his mouth open as if he has something he wants to say. You feel the urge to get up and run for the exit, shoving the poor sushi delivery person out of the way and jumping into your car. Instead, you sit feeling dazed as Seokjin's chair scrapes against the floor, and he stands to retrieve the food.

Although it is faint, there is a polite lilt in Seokjin's voice—practiced happiness reserved just for strangers—as he greets the delivery person. Anxiety swirls like acid in the pit of your stomach, and you take a large drink of water. You tell yourself that whatever that conversation was will not easily be resolved and that you should just leave. But when you stand, determined to apologize and thank Seokjin for the training session before taking your leave, he returns with a hint of a smile fading into a confused grimace.

"Sit," Seokjin says, setting the large plastic bag in the center of the table. "We need to eat after that strenuous workout. I think it's safe to say we were both a little out of our element and need to refuel."

You hesitate but ultimately sit. Then, feeling bold, you stand again.

"Are you sure? I feel like I insulted you; maybe I should leave."

Seokjin does not make eye contact as he continues to undo the flimsy bag and set out plastic containers of sushi rolls and appetizers. He really ordered too much.

"You didn't insult me," he says toward the food, "It's nothing I haven't heard before. And I would feel worse if you left without helping me eat all of this."

There is a hint of kindness in his voice, but there is also something that seems a little sad. You feel the urge to investigate, but you hardly know the guy and decide that if he wants to open up to you, he will.

But he does not. As you settle back down and begin to eat, you do so in silence. When Seokjin finally does speak again, it is to comment on the various moves you did and to suggest ways to improve the flow. From what little you have gathered as his partner, Seokjin seems to have a brilliance with the way he approaches the ring, and has very quickly adjusted to your weight, height, and strength to attempt to suggest moves that would be easiest for both of you to execute. In fact, you feel like you were hardly contributing, which, in turn, makes you feel bad for letting him do everything. You can't help but wonder if he minds, but you don't really want to ask. Maybe when things feel a little less...tense.

After the meal, you offer to help Seokjin clear everything away. When he declines, you thank him for the meal and excuse yourself, bowing at the hips and turning to the exit. Perhaps it is rude to leave so abruptly, but everything feels weird, and you want to step outside and get some fresh air. Surely, Seokjin will understand, you convince yourself as you shuffle toward the front door.

Footsteps follow you, and you reach for the door without looking back. But then, Seokjin calls, "What about your clothes?" and you freeze in your tracks. You had forgotten your clothing and duffle bag in the basement, and you were even going to leave without putting on the sneakers you walked into the house wearing.

Without another word, Seokjin runs down to the basement. You walk after him, feeling foolish enough for trying to make a break for it and not wanting to be a deer in the headlights by his front door. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, Seokjin comes from the bathroom holding the strap of your black bag bunched in one hand.

"There you are," he says as he hands it off to you and walks past, back to the top landing.

You turn on the balls of your feet and pad up the steps, then take off the wrestling shoes and set them bottom-side up on top of your clothes in the duffle before sliding your other sneakers on, wiggling to get the heel of the shoe to stop bending under the weight of your feet.

"Thanks," you mutter, finding it hard to look Seokjin in the eye.

Seokjin hums and says, "Good work today. We'll do this again soon." Then he walks away, back toward the kitchen.

With a resolved sigh, you grab the gold handle of his large wooden door and twist. The first inhale of fresh air fills your lungs with reprieve, and you hold it for three seconds, then exhale slowly, feeling yourself become lighter. This day may not have been perfect, but it was productive and worth being proud of, all things considered. Small miracles.

Two hours after returning home From Seokjin's house, you sit freshly showered on your couch, staring at your television while pictures move and sounds follow, unbeknownst to you. You are completely lost in your head, replaying every minute detail of your visit with Seokjin, attempting to make sense of some of it. The more you allow yourself to dwell on it, the worse you feel for the way you behaved.

If you are being honest with yourself, it was in part because Seokjin feels impossible to read at times, and partly because he is stupid fucking handsome, and it makes your brain come to a screeching halt at times. But how do you tell him that without compromising your relationship as his wrestling partner? Sure he called you pretty in jest, but telling him that his beauty makes your heart race so fast you want to throw up feels a little intense.

When your phone buzzes, you hardly notice. A tiny voice alerts you to the feeling against your leg, but you continue to stare ahead and attempt to dissect the look on his face after you told him you assumed his personality was fake. You squeeze your eyes closed and groan, scolding yourself silently for saying something like that to him. Then, your phone buzzes again, snapping you from your reverie, and you glance at the screen, expecting to hear from Jimin, and surprised by what you find instead.

Worldwide Handsome Great work today, Wildflower! We definitely have chemistry in the ring, and I look forward to meeting again to work on our comeback.

Worldwide Handsome Also, please don't worry about what you said. Unfortunately, I think we are both a little awkward. We'll figure it out.

With a sigh of relief, you smile to yourself. Seokjin is hot and cold, but at least he makes an attempt to communicate, and that is honestly more than you have been able to say for yourself since meeting the guy.

You I feel really bad for what I said. I should have apologized properly, but sometimes I have a hard time expressing myself to people I don't know very well. It was unfair of me.

You hit send and consider a myriad of things to say, to explain yourself further. But before your thumbs can work out what to send next, your phone lights up with a call. Phone calls always make you feel apprehensive, and you brace yourself with a deep breath before answering.

"Seokjin," you mutter, but he cuts you off.

"You don't need to apologize. You were right, my on-screen persona is incredibly fake."

There is a bite to Seokjin's voice that sounds matter-of-fact and also a bit harsh. But it does not feel directed at you. At least, you don't think it does.

"I mean, to an extent, all of our in-ring personas are fake," you supply, attempting to squash some of the tension you have felt building between the two of you all day.

Then, Seokjin responds with, "You're more charismatic, for one."

Stunned, your mouth opens, but all you manage to do is squeak out a weak sound. "I'm—oh. Okay."

"I almost bought into your awkward, manic-pixie-dream act, you know? But then I thought about how different you were in the ring and out of the ring at my house, and it's pretty clear that you just don't like me."

Seokjin's reasoning hardly makes sense, but all you can bring yourself to respond with is, "What?"

"It's fine. Whatever. We only have to work together; we don't need to be friends. And I meant what I said, we do have in-ring chemistry together. We can work on our awkwardness for the camera and avoid each other, otherwise."

The tone of this conversation is nothing like what you had expected, considering his text messages seemed so kind and understanding. But, then again, it is always difficult to tell someone's intentions over text. And, as you are coming to discover, Seokjin is an arrogant asshole, after all.

"Fine," you huff with a sigh, resolved not to argue. If Seokjin wants nothing more than a working relationship with you, then that is all he is going to get.

"I can speak with our managers and find us suitable sparring partners for the time being, if you would rather not practice with me," Seokjin offers, rubbing salt in wounds you didn't realize you had.

"Don't bother," you grit into the phone. "We'll work together just fine. And Worldwide Handsome?"

Seokjin hums into the receiver, and you sense surprise in his tone.

"You had better bring your A-game because our so-called fake rivalry is very fucking real, I am going to make you regret talking to me like this."

As you pull your cell phone away from your ear and hit the end call button, there is a quake in your hands, your ears begin to ring, and all sensation feels both non-existent and overwhelming, all at once. Seokjin is going to rue the day he made you his rival, and you are going to make sure he knows it.

tags: @btsiguess-kpop @btsstan12 @codeinebelle@dasexydevitt13 @giriiboyy @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki | this is a limited run series, but if you would like to be tagged, comment or dm!

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#seokjin x reader #seokjin angst #bts angst #btswritersclub #btscarnivalnet #btshoneyhive #bts rivals to lovers #fic: babyface

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