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xoxotria · 27 days

Text

in secret | csc

pairing: idol!choi seungcheol x model!reader

themes: secret relationship, situationship

warnings: minors dni! smut, fingering, mentions of reader having breasts and a vagina

ring. ring. ring.

you didn’t bother checking who was calling as there was only one person to call you during your schedule.

“you know you can’t keep calling me while i’m at work cheol.”

you hear a chuckle on the other end of the line as you pick up another booty call from seungcheol. you had met him through an event where you accidentally bumped into him as you were leaving your dressing room and the rest was history.

“yet you still always answer baby.”

“only because god knows how pouty you get when i don’t.” you laugh as you wave your collegues goodbye, your fittings and schedule over for the day.

you had walked over to your car still on the phone with cheol as you unlocked your car and got in to continue your call in private.

“what is it you want tonight? i’m pretty tired for sex today.”

ah, yes. you were in a friends-with-benefits type of relationship with cheol after that one incident where you both were at a after party in which both of you had alcohol in your system but still sober enough to decide to have sex in his car before he drove you home to your apartment.

“i’m not calling you for sex—well tonight i’m not.” he laughs as you hear the faint sounds of the radio in the background. “i was passing by your favorite restaurant and bought too much food for one person to eat alone so i was gonna ask you if i could come over and share a meal with you tonight.”

“woah, who are you and what have you done to the cheol i met first?” you teased him as you pulled out of the parking and into the street to head home to your apartment a couple of blocks away.

“i can be a gentleman too if i wanted to you know? rude that you think otherwise.” you could see him pouting my the way his voice sounded over the phone.

“i’m kidding baby i know you are but yes you can come over. the doors are unlocked and i’m a few minutes away.” you answer.

“how many times do i have to tell you to not leave your doors unlocked? you’ll be the death of me woman seriously.”

“and how many times do i need to tell you my apartments security is really good. anyways, i got to pass by a shop to buy some stuff for my apartment. i’ll see you later.”

“m’kay, drive safe. see you later.”

༝༚༝༚

“—and then they forced them to hug it out with hannie after they had won the prize and could go home early! it was the funniest thing i saw today.” cheol laughed from the other side of the table as the both of you ate dinner together.

“i would’ve loved to see that in person.” you laughed as you imagined it happening infront of you.

you were familiar with his group, seventeen. he had ‘forced’ you to watch gose episodes and some of their (more specifically his) fancams from previous concerts during some of your more casual meet ups. you had enjoyed it so much you actually had a slight infatuation with wonwoo much to cheol’s dismay that he wasn’t your bias.

“you’d love the boys. they are the same on and off camera, i’m super proud of them really.” he gushed as he sipped on the beer you had bought before coming home.

“i’m sure they feel the same way about you,” you reassured him as he smiled at you.

cheol was a great leader, he was kind but firm especially when it came to his brothers. he would rather pay fines and reassure his fans than keep them overthinking about things. he was a pure soul—maybe that’s why over time you had slowly fallen for him.

“thanks baby.” he mouthed to you as you both enjoyed the rest of your dinner in comfortable silence.

you watched as he finished his food the same time you had before grabbing the plastic containers and throwing them in the trash tidying up your dining room before plopping down on the couch beside you. you had been planning on setting boundaries with him as you knew your feelings would get hurt if he finds a girl he actually wants to pursue and not just fuck.

you had past flings and relationships before you had met cheol. it was never easy for you to fall in love with the way you’ve fallen for cheol—not even with your exes. you had been the secret girlfriend or lover before so why was it so hard to be that with cheol? oh right. you weren’t even his girlfriend. you’re just a one-call away fuck when he needed you to be. but you’d also be the first person he’d run to when the world around him became too much for him to handle.

“cheol?” you called out softly as you approached the couch.

“hmm?” he hummed as he looked up from the tv to look at you.

you watched his brown eyes lock on your own as the nerves in your stomach knotted. you couldn’t do it but you knew you needed to before you hurt yourself by loving a man that wasn’t even yours to love.

could you stomach not being able to hold him the way only you could when it was just the two of you? to live with the thought that he’ll settle down with another woman and that he couldn’t do it with you? to know that you were good enough to fuck but not commit to fully?

“how long will we continue like this?” you ask as you take the spot on the couch beside him.

“what do you mean sweetheart?” he asked as his brows furrowed in confusion.

“this cheol. you and me. is this all we’re going to be? a quick fuck and leave?” you could see the way the gears in his mind were then turning.

he didn’t know what to answer.

“i thought we were fine with this kind of set up? you didn’t want any commitments and i didn’t too especially in the industry we are in.”

“i was at first. things happen seungcheol—things even sometimes i can’t stop.” you argue as you watch him fidget with his hands.

“i—i can’t do it (y/n). there’s so much on the line for me—for you! i have an album release coming up. you have your runway and cover launch. if anyone finds out, the backlash would be too much for both of us to quiet down quick enough that it won’t ruin everything we’ve built.” he reasoned as he stood up from the couch.

“am i really just a good fuck to you?” the question hung in the air as you watch him try to answer you but decided not to and grabbed his keys making a beeline for the door.

“so much for being a gentleman. goodbye asshole!” you shout at him as he leaves your apartment in silence.

you broke down in tears burrying your face into your throwpillow mourning a relationship that was never there to begin with. you had shared you body with him—intimate moments of just you and him as he worshipped your body. you had not only fucked but there was that one time in which he made love to you after he had been away on tour for a month. he touched your body as if he was memorizing every mole, scar and dip of your body, kissing every patch of skin he could as he slowly thrusted in and out of you as if trying to engrave you in his brain yet he couldn’t commit to you even if he did all that.

you knew since the beggining that you were playing a dangerous game when you had met and started messing with each other in secret, so you couldn’t blame him fully for hurting and leaving you when you wanted things to get serious.

you cried for him that night, vowing never to let anyone mess with your heart the way he did with yours. you allowed yourself to mourn him and what could’ve been before drifting off to sleep.

༝༚༝༚

a month had passed since that night, everything was getting better. you had walked for one of your dream brands in their show in paris before being flown back to korea for a cover shoot. you had managed to avoid thinking about him successfully burying yourself in your work.

you had glanced at the calendar hung on the wall in your little office where the date tomorrow was encirled with red ink with his handwriting messily scribbled beneath the date.

new album release in which you’d drool over wonwoo instead of me :(

you had avoided opening twitter to stop yourself from looking at updates from seventeen hoping for a glance of him even going as far as to download weverse to catch a live of him. yet your finger hovered over his contact on your phone wanting to call and check in on him as he was always nervous whenever he had events coming up.

“no stop that. you’re not going to make yourself available for someone who thinks your just a good fuck.” you mutter to yourself as you close your phone.

your room still had traces of him you haven’t got the guts to get rid of yet. his perfume still sits on your vanity as he sometimes stays the night and always forgets to bring his perfume with him to use which resulted in him leaving his bottle of perfume in your room. his jersey from that one gose episode hangs from the chair in the corner of the room from that time you asked him to bring you home wonwoo’s but refused to do so saying it would be weird to see you wearing wonwoo’s jersey when you were fucking him. his toothbrush is still by the sink in your ensuite and his spare clothes are still on your top drawer waiting for him to come and use them—but he won’t because he’s doing better than you are and moving on from your little situationship.

his side of the bed still smells like him despite you spraying your perfume on it. he just manages to haunt you in the solitude of your own home. you’re thinking gets interrupted by a call from an unknown number on your phone.

“hello?” you greet unsure.

breathing is the only thing heard on the other line so in your better judgement you turn the call off thinking somebody just dialled the wrong number by accident.

you shrugged it off before tossing your phone to your bed and rearranging your vanity to keep your mind busy.

ping!

a notification interrupts your rearranging seeing your phone light up as a message comes through.

open the door.

“open the door?” you read out loud as you see the text. confused as the number isn’t saved you decided to check your front door as a safety measure.

you peep through the hole in your front door to see no one there but you decided to open and check. you glanced at the hall seeing no one there but to your surprise there was a paper bag on the floor. you picked it up and placed it on your kitchen counter before locking the door behind you.

you opened the bag to find an unsealed album with wonwoo’s signature on it. confused you rummage through the bag to pull out wonwoo’s jersey from that one gose episode.

“what the hell?” you asked confused as you pulled your phone out to check the number that had texted you. it wasn’t a number saved in your phone but you had an inkling to whom it was from.

you decided to call the number to confirm your suspicions. you had waited a while before the call got answered. and boy were you ready to give them a piece of your mind.

“hello?” he answers as you pace back and forth in your kitchen holding the album in your hand.

“yes, hello to you too. what the fuck is this? why would you send me an album signed by wonwoo and his jersey from that one gose episode? are you that fucked up seungcheol?” you fumed as you waited for him to say something.

“well?” you pushed as he wasn’t answering you.

“hi, uhm, it’s not seungcheol. i’m gonna introduce myself first, my name is joshua hong. i’m seungcheol’s group member and he borrowed my phone to text you. he isn’t here right now but i’ll make sure to relay the message you had for him. also, don’t worry about me spilling your secret i’m not gonna tell anyone about the two of you. you have my word for it.” you could feel the heat build up on your cheeks in embarrassment.

“i’m sorry! i thought you were seungcheol. i probably should’ve let you talk first before i went off on you.” you apologize as you hear joshua chuckle.

“don’t worry about it, i get where you’re coming from. don’t tell cheol but you were right setting boundaries to your situation with him.”

it was nice to know joshua was on the same page with you regarding the matter.

“yeah but it may have cost me his presence in my life. well, until he had contacted me again today.” you admitted as he sighed.

“i told him he should’ve used his own number to contact you but he wouldn’t listen to me. that man honestly, he can be so dumb with things like this but is so smart in other things.”

“i was debating calling him just hours ago. i know how tense he gets with your album releases but i—“

“you wanted him to reach out to you because you already told him what you wanted out of your situation. yeah, i know. he told me about you guys a week ago.”

“he did?” you asked surprised.

you really didn’t think he’d talk about you and your situation with anyone else. truthfully, you didn’t know how you felt about it. seungcheol had all the time during your no-contact period to reach out but he never did so you thought he was fully over your relationship. hearing from joshua that he was talking about it with someone else somehow gave you a thought that he might actually be thinking about you still.

“he hasn’t been able to talk to anybody else about it because of the circumstances but i could tell something was troubling him so i just waited for him to open up to me without being forced to and he did eventually. i know he misses you—he hasn’t shut up about it to me,” he sighs as you pick at your nails. “he means well, y’know? he just has a lot on his shoulders being our leader and the shield that protects everyone around him but i know deep down your good for him and i know he knows it too. just hear him out please?”

“i will, thank you joshua. congratulations on your new album by the way. i’m sure you’ll be hitting the charts and winning awards for it soon enough.” you thank him as he says his thanks and ends the call leaving you to your thoughts.

your phone sits on the counter as you gathered up the courage to text him and soon enough you pressed send.

where are you? we need to talk.

༝༚༝༚

seungcheol had arrived at your door an hour later, knocking lightly on your door you might’ve thought you hadn’t heard him if you didn’t know he was coming over. you opened the door for him not bothering to look at the peephole as he shuffled quietly past you and into your living room. he glanced around the apartment seeing it was still the same way as the day he left you so suddenly. he normally felt at home but this time he felt so tiny and out of place despite all the times he used to come over. he glanced over the familiar paper bag on your kitchen counter with the album and jersey he dropped off.

he could feel your gaze at him but he avoided making eye contact with you which he used to love doing. your eyes were his favorite thing to look at—no matter what you were doing your eyes always showed how you felt despite you not saying it verbally. he would tell you how much he loved your eyes even if he was in the middle of fucking you. he’d often tell you to keep your eyes on him despite you being so fucked out yet you’d do as he asked because you loved how he looked at you. deep down he thinks he knew that the moment he started to look for you in the people he’d interact with everyday was the moment he started seeing you more than just another person he’d call to fuck—he loved you long before he had the guts to let you know and seeing you for the first time after no contact truly did things to him.

“hey.” he spoke softly as he finally looked at you for the first time in a month.

god, you looked so beautiful even if your face held no emotions as you looked at him.

“i did all the talking last time so i think it’s fair i give you this moment to air out your thoughts before i make a decision.” you answered stiffly.

he nodded in understanding as he tried to gather his thoughts together before he opened up his mouth to speak.

“truth be told, i got overwhelmed when you were insinuating that you wanted to be more than just what our set up was but that isn’t a good enough explanation for what i was feeling at that moment.”

it was true, with everything on his plate at that moment it just got suffocating for him so he left without saying anything. it was one of the most stupid thing he had ever done in his life because he wanted nothing more to say something—anything to you.

“i had so much time to think about us over the month of no contact. i learned things about me that i wish i knew the moment you confronted me about what we were and how things were going to play out for us in the long run. i want you, (y/n). i wish i told you that night that i left. i don’t want you just physically because you are so much more to me than just a body to fuck. don’t get me wrong the sex is amazing with you and i feel like i’m on another world when i get to touch you, hold you, and just be with you.” he explains as he inched closer to you.

“but i’m scared to love you. i don’t want to ruin what we have because i’ve seen other couples in our industry get destroyed just because they love each other. i know i can handle the backlash i’d received but i’d hate to be the reason you’d be getting them too—fuck, i love you. god knows when it happened but i do and i can’t stop no matter what i do to try and supress my feelings. you weren’t and aren’t just a good fuck to me—your my entire world and i’m lucky enough to be able to orbit around you like how the moon does.” he could touch your face with how close he was to you by now. the tears falling down your cheeks and he wanted nothing more than to wipe away but he didn’t still unsure about if he could touch you that way again.

“you were the first person i felt both wildly unsure and unwaveringly certain of and i kept falling for you and the little things you’d do. i missed looking into your eyes, kissing your lips when you rambled too much, playing with your hair when we cuddle after sex, the little noises you make when you lose at games, and the way i’d wake up with you in my arms when you let me stay over. i missed you so much baby. i’m so sorry i didn’t contact you sooner.” cheol could feel his voice break as you cupped his cheeks. he leaned into your touch as he caught your scent—your vanilla scented shampoo and a hint of his own perfume mixed together. he loved it.

“you’re an asshole y’know?” she spoke through her tears as she allowed him to run his fingers through her locks. “i missed you.” she peered up at him as he smiled at her.

seungcheol had gazed into her eyes—he stared at her like she was the stars in the sky and he was basking in their glow. he missed her truly and he was going to show her how much he had missed her.

his eyes glanced down on her lips before he had closed the space between them with a kiss. the kiss was full of emotions; longing, happiness, and desire. it had been the longest since he went without being able to touch her body, the longest time being a month when he was away on tour.

he doesn't know when his obsession with you started, but one look at your bambi like eyes and he was hooked. jailed and chained to nights filled with your doe eyes brimming tears and cries of pleasure. oh the sweet sounds you’d make because of him.

"you like that? hmm?" a moan escapes your lips as he palmed your soaked sleep shorts.

“yes.” you answer breathlessly as you feel him lift you up and lock your legs around his hips. gravity causing you to settle down with your cunt pressed against his hard dick.

“oh fuck.” he groaned as he felt your wet cunt slide down his dick. “i missed having you like this baby.”

he had managed to get you both into your room as quickly as he could without bumping into your stuff with his lips on yours before setting you down in your bed. he littered your thighs with kisses as he pulled your shorts down revealing you slick cunt.

“no panties tonight, hm?” he smirked as you blushed.

“you make me go insane baby.” he removed his shirt along with his bottoms bearing all himself for you to see—not that you haven’t seen it before.

cheol dipped a finger into your core, working around the sopping wet muscle to fit in a second. he never broke eye contact with you, even as you groaned at the sudden contact as his finger grazed your bundle of nerves .

"it's okay, baby. come look at me, please? look right at me. that’s it, that’s my good girl."

as his fingers began to speed up, the tension in your thighs loosened, giving him more access to the rest of you. your walls took them in with ease as you welcome the familiar sensation of his fingers being stuffed in you, the wet sucking noises beginning to fill the room along with your moans. his breath is steady as ever, as if he's breathing you through this in an effort to slow you down from getting there before he even gets to truly have his way with you the way that he intends. he hadn’t fucked you in so long—he was going to take his sweet time.

your eyes locked into his—his favourite sight ever seeing you like that, breath hitching in the back of your throat catching the soft cries of his name that you tried to utter. pulling back, cheol removed his fingers from you with a slick pop, sticking the digits into his mouth, cleaning them of your cum.

"always so sweet," he remarked, dragging his thumb across his lip, and bringing it to yours. instinctively, you began to suck on it, slowly letting the taste of your own arousal coats your tongue. you could feel his hard-on pressing into your thigh, the heat between your legs drawing him in ever closer. it was intoxicating. in all your relationship's timespan, you were never sure of the exact moment that you had started to like him at a different light, but you knew that it lay somewhere in the hours he spent buried in between your thighs as he ate you out like he had been starving for years.

"i wanna feel you," your voice was just above a whisper. interlacing your fingers, his hand much bigger than your own, his entire body appeared massive in the small slivers of light that were in the room. your hand wrapped around the base of his swollen erection, a string of curses escaping his lips as you ran your hands up and down the length, icy fingertips teasing at his prominent veins. shifting his weight and allowed your hands to guide him, lining up perfectly with your glistening slit as his head teased at the entrance a few times, positioning itself just mere centimeters from your cunt.

"i love you so much cheol—fuck." you moaned out as your fingers dug into his back.

with eyes locked onto each other, your mouth fell open as he bottomed out. it took you no time to adjust, but the shockwaves ripped through your body just the same as they always did when you were this sensitive for him. he knew that you didn't have long from the way your walls clenched around his dick. it took a few seconds of adjustment, but he nestled himself inside, lowering his head to whisper into your ear.

"i'm gonna move now, 'kay baby?"

you nodded, arms pulling him down to your chest more as his dick dragged itself against your walls. after a few soft, shallow thrusts, your nails bit into his shoulder—the signal that he could go faster. his hips began to rock more evenly, building an even pace as the sounds of your walls began to fill the room. each kiss of his tip against your soft spot gave way to a familiar, lewd squishing noise coming from your delicate hole. your whines only urged him to go a step further, nails raking down his back so hard you were sure you had begun to draw blood. his body was marred with scars, but you knew that every scar on his back had been left there by you, an ever present reminder of the sleepless nights together you two shared.

"cheol—please, please harder," you croaked. he was right where you needed him, but not giving in. he was such an tease.

"are you sure you want more?" his demeanor shifted as lust consumed him.

"i'm not gonna hold back, you know," he started.

"i missed fucking this cunt—fuck—not gonna slow down until you're shaking."

he started ramming into you even harder, each thrust jolting your body backward and further up the surface of the mattress. he was slipping, eyes beginning to lose their light even as they were still locked onto yours. you could feel his grip around your waist getting stronger, digging into you. the veins in his arms started to bulge, he was losing himself in the euphoric washes of your body. you were shaking already, clamping down on his thick cock erratically.

"not going to stop until you're so cock-drunk on me."

every dizzying motion of his hips had your blood rushing to every part of your body. the wall in your abdomen began to shatter as you could feel your own mind slip.

"cheol—it's—i'm—baby—i'm gonna—" you could barely manage getting the words out. he placed a thumb in your mouth again, giving you some semblance of comfort all the while egging you on.

curse him and his high endurance.

"go on, cum for me. cum for your cheol baby."

you yielded to him completely, body simply going limp, giving in to euphoria as your climax overwhelmed your frame. you couldn't stop yourself from letting go completely, gushing your own translucent slick over his own lower half, tilting him over the edge.

"fuck," he moaned out as he reached his own high. "here it comes—here it fucking comes..."

he kissed you through it, groaning into your mouth with his cock throbbing inside you and painting your insides with thick, milky white.

"Gotta—fuck—stuff my pretty baby so full."

and that he did.

as his own comedown presented itself, he collapsed onto you. you watched his chest rise and fall for a few seconds, assuring yourself that he was still all the way there. his head lifted, eyes meeting your watchful gaze. they were bright, admirable, and warm.

"i love you," cheol murmured into your hairline, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he had pulled you to his chest to cuddle after chasing your highs. you squirmed a bit, repositioning yourself so that you could run your fingertips up and down his chest, tracing every curvature of his skin.

"i love you too," you cooed.

prying him off you for a second, you were about to stumble in the darkness toward the bathroom only to be pulled back into his chest with his own brute strength.

"i have to pee, cheol," you laughed as he caged you in his arms.

“let me join you and get you cleaned up.”

“you and i both know that won’t happen when your in there with me.” you chuckle as you melt into his arms.

“well then…round 2?” he smiled.

༝༚༝༚

you had woken up in a state of pure bliss with your body flush against cheol’s as his arm draped over your hip keeping you close to him.

it wasn’t a dream. he was here. your cheol was here.

you traced over his features as he slept soundly. you couldn’t help yourself—he looked beautiful under the light of the morning light. you could get used to this. he stirs in his sleep as you run your fingers through his blonde locks.

“g’morning baby.” he greets voice deep and raspy from sleep.

“hi handsome.” you smile as he pulls you closer to him and pecks you on your forehead.

“i could get used to this.”

“happy album release day baby.” you greet softly as you peppered his jaw with kisses.

“thank you, did you like my gift for you?” he asked as you pull away and slap his chest.

“you’re so horny. can’t we not associate everything with sex?” you tease as he raised a brow at you.

“baby i was talking about the jersey and the album i had wonwoo sign for you.” he deadpanned as you beam in excitement.

“oh my god! i forgot about that—wait right here.” you run out of the room as cheol laughs at you.

he felt so happy seeing you so happy but he wasn’t that happy seeing you walk back into your room with just wonwoo’s jersey on.

“i think this is my new favourite top. whatcha think baby?” you smile as you twirl around to show cheol wonwoo’s name on the back of the jersey instead of his.

“mm looks good.” he answers curtly brows knitting together in annoyance.

“i know right! wonwoo’s built is so much bugger than mine that this looks like a dress on me.” you played with the hem of the jersey as you hear cheol scoff in annoyance.

“take it off baby.” he grumbles as you shake your head no.

“nu-uh, it’s really comfy.”

“baby you have my exact same jersey. just wear mine.” he points towards his jersey as you shrug.

“but wonwoo’s my bias—”

“—and yet you weren’t cumming all over his dick last night were you? come on baby just wear mine.” he butts in as you raise a brow at him.

“are you jealous mr. choi?” you tease your arms on your hips.

“me? jealous of your crush on wonwoo? no way.” he answers defensively.

“you won’t mind me wearing this around then.” you sit at the edge of the bed turning you back on cheol as you scroll through your phone.

you felt him creep up behind you as the mattress dips from his weight. his hand snakes around your throat as your pulled back into his chest a smirk playing on your lips from how he’s acting.

“you’re mine baby. so i’ll give you two options: change and wear my jersey or…” he tightens his grip on your neck as he whispers in your ear. “i fuck you so hard you won’t know anyone else’s name but mine.”

“i think i’ll keep the jersey on,” you bit your lip excitedly as you hear him chuckle from behind you.

“always such a brat. well, buckle up baby. you’re in for such an eventful day.”

let’s just say you were so cock drunk from cheol’s dick that you couldn’t walk straight for a couple hours needing his assistance throughout the day.

#seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen scenarios #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeenfanfic #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen seungcheol

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inkskinned · 9 months

Text

they don't see it, because it is around them like air. to them, it would have to be through movies, through magazines. they think it happens outside of life, like it must be selected to be interacted with.

but you discovered in the fifth grade that you couldn't wear shirts with words on them, it was an excuse for someone to look at your chest. you were catcalled before you were in middle school. sometimes you look at that memory and deny it - surely that can't be right, you were young. but you were in a skirt, so maybe that was a natural byproduct. it was a skirt from that place "justice by limited too" - a store literally for kids. it was popular around then. you wore that skirt twice and then never again.

you can't wear headphones, because what if a man wants to talk to you? there's a guy on the internet who complains that women shut themselves off from being approached. at night, you often keep the headphones positioned but with the sound off, just in case you need to hear something behind you.

you learned at 12 that you can't make eye contact, don't acknowledge the aggression. just walk faster and hope he picks on somebody else. don't wear your hair like that. do not park next to that kind of car, park an entire cityblock away if you must.

you can't go to the museum, you're sitting and tying your shoe when he approaches you and mentions that nobody understands art anymore. that in the whole world, it's just you-two. you have no recourse for eating a meal (it's rabbit food if it's salad, and someone will roll their eyes, eat a sandwich. it's pick-me behavior if it's a burger, we get it you're a cool girl). if you like mushrooms you are cottagecore, which is cheesy. if you like video games you're an egirl (similar to a pick-me). boys do not get categories, but if you point out the categories are sexist, you are told okay but these girls really exist.

it is somehow developing, a little undercurrent that you've been uncomfortable with. the nickname "karen" went from being "a white woman that uses her whiteness as a weapon, particularly against people of color," to now mean "any woman raising her voice or being even a little upset." the reappropriation of a term used specifically to call out white women for their racism has set your skin on edge. now it is just another version of "bitch," one that can be said on television. recently you saw a woman get called a karen because a drunk driver sideswiped her, and she screamed when it happened. the comments on the dashcam video all say "why do women always scream about everything." "when has the world ever been bettered by women screaming." "this fucking karen. she deserved to get hit."

in the sitcom, it's a joke that the wife is furious; slamming her hands down into the sink. i do everything around here, might as well do this too. in your house, your father is always in-his-office. before you know better, your first boyfriend is the type to say it's just easier for you. you used to beg him to take you on dates. he used to make a big deal about it, about the sacrifice of effort, even if you were the one who did most of the planning.

someone on the internet makes a "POV: the most boring person you've ever met" where he puts a towel on his head and just talks like a normal person. his impression of a boring woman is just a woman that is talking about her pretty-average life without exaggeration.

you are sometimes actually sad in the reverse, because actually you did used to struggle to pay attention in conversations. you were also easily bored of normal things, your adhd pinging off of every radio tower in the vacinity. it took time and therapy and patience, and now you delight in the small things about your friends. you like having them show you their organizational systems and talk about their taylor swift tickets. you are entertained by them because you learned to be, even though your brain is structured to only be excited by novelty. you kind of hate the idea that the reason your father will never actually pay attention to you is that you're no longer interesting. eventually the shine wore off, and you were just a person, not a spaceship. he never learned how to just, like, form an actual intimate friendship. it was always at a distance, this sense - emotional closeness was too much. (and yes. he's homophobic).

you're already tired of whatever the fuck is happening with the words "divine feminine", a rancid take that is basically just a rebranding of the patriarchy in action. what the fuck do they mean "being small and delicate and needing protection" is feminine. the words they are looking for are that they want a partner, not that their desire for equivalent support is relegated to gender. the human desire for community is not actually gendered at all. also, what fucking wolves are these "divine masculine" men even battling. fuckken taxes? shouldn't their "desire to protect" also mean "protect you from emotional neglect", or are all emotions off-limits (and how sad would that be. that's a horrible bar to set.)

and they tell you it's really not bad actually, because it's just there. they suggest you get off the internet or you stop reading that book or you stop thinking so hard about the movie or you stop just-being-a-feminist because honestly it's a killjoy sort of thing and then you tilt your head to the side and there's that little siren in the back of your head. if things were actually fine, being a feminist wouldn't put a stop to anything, it would go completely unnoticed, because you wouldn't have any comment to make about any of this

but you are ruining your own life, they tell you. also, girls don't sit like that. also, all girls are catty. also, all girls are bad drivers. also, all girls just need a cute bracelet and an iced coffee.

you do like iced coffee, is the thing. when you close your eyes, the world around you has this strange note to it. and once you hear it, it never stops ringing.

#writeblr #this is far too long #sjw bullshit #idk i MEANT to write about somethng else completely and if i have time i will #about like . how if ur gay this is even more obvious #bc they like. hi ur 3 now where is ur boyfriend #and ur like. :) good news mother i have activated the lasers in my plush dog and he is dancing in the guts of my barbie

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kennedybaby · 11 months

Text

TIPSY ~ LEON S. KENNEDY

Summary: Fucking a bartender in the back seat of his car was the last thing Leon had in mind after successfully retrieving Ashley back to safety.

Word count: 4.495k / Warning: Mild dubcon because Leon is tipsy. Anything is just pure filth.

Pairing: Post Re4 Remake! Leon S. Kennedy X Fem! Bartender! Reader.

Author note: got horny and accidentally vomit out 4k words of leon fucking you. sorry, it's just the girl tendencies in me. read the tags to know what to expect!!! 🤍

mature contents below the cut. mdni.

Leon needed some sort of a quick stress reliever.

His knuckles gradually turned white as he tightly gripped his steering wheel. His chin leaning on his other hand, the faint buzzing noise from the radio accompanied by his soft breathing was the only company he had. Leon had debated with himself, a part of him missed his bed like crazy, all he wanted to do was bury his body between the soft cushions and dozed off into a long, serene slumber. But a part of him itches for something. He needed a drink, anything to get that surge of dopamine in his body. Need the familiar bile taste to settle in his mouth as he chugs it down his throat, letting it burn his chest.

Leon Scott Kennedy needs some alcohol in his system. Desperately.

Running his gloved fingers thru his damp hair, Leon let out a soft chuckle upon seeing a bar from afar, almost as if his desperate plea was answered by God himself. Its neon sign flashing OPEN 24/7 in bright red LED lights, he could see a few drunkards already passing out on the sidewalk, holding onto their beer bottles before he parked his car around the corner. Putting his car keys in his pocket, Leon budged open the door of the bar, greeted by the sound of the bell atop the door chimes. The heavy scent of tobacco, hard liquor and sweat was evident as it clings to the air— not to mention the odour of sex grows stronger and pungent as he goes even deeper into the crowds to reach the counter.

Leon finds himself a seat on one of the stools, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips before the feeling of someone standing over him crept onto him. He lifted his face, sparing a small, tired smile at you as you returned with a polite one.

‘Cute,’ He thought.

“You look tired, want me to fix you up with something?” You raised your voice a little, making sure he can hear you amid the blasting music as you leaned closer to him, Leon got a slight whiff of your refreshing, floral perfume. It was pleasant, a stark contrast from the stench that the bar seemed to be festering with. You were pretty, clad in a black blouse with your sleeves rolled to your elbow, a beige apron wrapping around your waist as you pressed your hands on the counter with a bright smile on your face.

“Just a shot of Vodka, please,” Leon replied, his eyes remaining trained on your face. You give his request a firm nod, turning your back to Leon as he watches you step on a stool before reaching for the bottle of Vodka on the top shelf.

“Need some help there?” Leon teased, a soft chuckle emitted from him as you rolled your eyes teasingly. “Thanks, but no thanks.” You replied to him, getting off the stool before you turned to face him again.

Putting the shot glass in front of him before you pour the Vodka in, making sure not to overflow the shot glass. “Thank you, pretty girl.” He whispered, his voice dropping an octave lower before you flash him a grin, your cheeks heating up before you remain your composure.

“Anytime, handsome.”

Sure, you’ve been flirted by your customers before. Mostly by married older men who're too drunk to even form a proper sentence, easing you into coming back home with them and they’ll show you a great time. You wouldn’t be too phased with it, assuming it was just the liquor talking— but this? This was different.

Somehow hearing this attractive man you have never seen before calling you a pretty girl sent heat coursing up your cheeks. Maybe it’s his looks or his voice, or the fact that you hadn’t been able to fuck for weeks since you were too busy with bartending and college classes hence you being fairly sexually frustrated but you paid extra attention to him.

Not that he’s complaining, Leon’s not the type to turn a lady’s attention away from him.

“You’re new here?” You strike up a conversation with him which is something you would normally avoid to do so. Leon smirked at you, chugging down the Vodka shot in one go before he let out a sharp breath. His eyes met back to yours before he cocked his head to the side, “Yeah, just wanted to find somewhere to rest, past weeks have been crazy.” He replied, his eyes shifted to the empty shot. “I might be here for a while, mind keeping a tab for me?” Leon poured himself another shot, his finger grazing around the rim of the shot glass before looking up into your eyes.

“Aren’t you too young to be bartending?"

“What are you a cop or something?” You raised your eyebrow with a teasing smile on your lips, jotting down his tab before pushing it to the side. A chuckle left his lips before Leon speaks again, “Eh, kind of. So how old are you?"

“21. No breaking laws here, officer.” Slightly raising both of your hands in the air jokingly, Leon grinned at your antics, chugging his second shot of Vodka.

“No worries, pretty girl. But why here, though? Why work in a bar?”

“It pays me well plus I needed some quick cash. My dad isn’t too keen on giving me some money so here I am.” You said, pouring him his third shot of Vodka as he smiled at you.

“How come?”

“Let’s just say he's not the nicest.” You shrugged, watching as his adam apple's bobs every time he chugged the Vodka shot down his throat. His pale cheeks already began to redden up a little, adoring his porcelain skin with a pink tint. Leon extended his hand to you and you happily accepted it, giving him a firm handshake before you exchanged introductions with each other.

“Leon Kennedy. And you are?”

“[Y/N] [L/N].”

The two of you converse for hours, pouring him shot after shot and with every shot he takes, Leon would flirt with you. He’s still pretty sober despite the high intake of Vodka shots, he seems pretty calm in his seat— occasionally winking at you when you’re serving other customers and throwing cheesy pick-up lines between the conversation.

Leon can’t lie but finds himself attracted to you, ordering more and more drinks in hopes of keeping your attention on him. He loves the way you blushed at the slightest contact of his hands or the way you would look at him back with a twinge of desire circling behind those eyes of yours. Fuck, you’re too hot for him to be this tipsy.

Once in a while when you were talking, his eyes would shift down to your lips, cock straining against his pants as you licked your lips and looked up to him with that evident obliviousness plastered all over your pretty face to his impure thoughts.

“Your total is 200 dollars. Cash or card?” You smiled at him, handing him the tab you had for him with a card reader in your other hand. Leon ran his card swiftly on the card reader before he put them back into his wallet and stuffed them back into his pocket. Shifting your eyes to the clock, a hint of disappointment could be seen on your face before you quickly muster a small smile for Leon.

“It’s already twelve? Well, it’s been nice talking to you, Leon." Untying the beige apron around your waist, you placed it on the lower counter. Leon was quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“I can give you a ride back home if you want.”

You can definitely say this was a different type of a ride back home.

“Your lips taste so fucking sweet."

Straddling his hips with your thighs wrapped around his waist at the backseat, Leon has his arm around your waist. His other hand cupped the right side of your face, circling his thumb on your cheek as you intertwined your lips with him. His tongue goes past your slick lips as his hand guides your head to tilt a little to deepen the heated kiss. Leon breaks away from the kiss, leaning his head back on the car seat as you look at him with a dazed smile.

“Shit, this is insane.” He muttered, his fingers running thru his dirty blonde hair. “What’s so insane about this?” You softly replied, your lips finding their way back to him as he happily reciprocated, kissing you back with his tongue swirling with yours. His hand on your cheek moved to the back of your head, keeping your lips locked with his as you moaned into the kiss. Pulling away from the kiss for air, Leon strokes your hair as he runs his fingers thru your locks.

“Never really made out with a girl prior after knowing her for a couple of hours." Leon chuckled, his head slightly tilted as he looked back into your eyes with a half-lidded stare. He can feel the heat radiating from your cunt and God knows how much of the effect you had on him. “Well, I don’t usually accept a ride back home from a stranger but here we are.”

“It’s a first for the two of us then.” He grinned, a devilish smirk playing on his lips before his hand removed his hand from the back of your head. Unwrapping his arm around your waist, Leon moved both of his hands and settled them on your hips. His thumb makes a circular motion on the surface of your stomach as hummed with satisfaction. “You can do more than that, can you, officer?"

Right. You don't even know what he actually works as. That’s how little you two know of each other and yet his bodies and yours slotted perfectly like two pieces of puzzles. As if the two of you had known each other forever. Leon preferred the anonymity between the two of them.

“You’re going to make me lose control if you keep calling me that," Leon chuckled, the sound of his husky voice ringing in your ears. You noticed how your lipgloss was all over his lips, the beautiful pink sheen smeared on his lips down to his chin. “What should I call you then? Daddy?”

Leon let out a groan, his smile widening at the way your voice sounded when you rolled the word daddy off the tip of your tongue smoothly— you’re can’t be teasing him when he’s this horny and tipsy. He can't even think properly, too fixated on the positions he can put you in at the back seat of his car, clouding his mind with endless indecent imagination. He swallowed thickly, looking back at your eyes as you bit your lower lip back at him and flashed him a playful smile. “Say it again.”

“Daddy.” You breathed out, eyes shooting wide when his fingers brushed against your collarbone as he pried your blouse open, sending the buttons of your blouse to fly everywhere. Your body tensed up from the sudden action, his warm breath hitting against your skin as he kissed your collarbone and stopped between your chest. “Yeah, call me that.”

“Gladly.” Pulling away from your chest, he leaned in closer to your face, pulling your face into his as he smashed his lips on yours— engaging you into a messy, sloppy kiss. His tongue forcefully parted your pursed lips, exploring every corner of your mouth as you let out a pathetic whine when he pulled away. “God, you’re so needy. My needy little girl,” You can feel the ache between your thighs building up when he called you a little girl. Your cunt throbbed against the thin fabric of your cotton panties as he slipped his hand down your pencil skirt, his index finger teasing the pulsing little clit thru the fabric of your panties in a circular motion as he softly chuckled when you began to squirm in his grasp.

“You're already so wet. You’re excited for daddy to fuck you stupid?” He whispered into your ear, shooting shivers down your spine as you nodded at his question. “Let me hear your voice, pretty girl.” Leon landed a firm spank on your ass, sending your back straight as your fingers cling to his black T-Shirt. “I-I am excited...”

“There's my good girl. Open your mouth for me.” You obeyed him, parting your lips before he stuck the same index and middle finger he teased your clit earlier. “Get it nice and wet for your pussy, baby.” Leon smiled, occasionally letting out a grunt as the warmth of your mouth and your hot tongue wrapped around his digits.

All Leon could do is wish it was his cock you were sucking, taking every inch of his shaft down your throat. He wanted to see the outline of his cock on your throat, fucking your mouth while his balls slapped against your chin as he leaves you breathless. But for now, he’d settle with fingering your pretty pussy open.

“You’re so cute sucking my fingers like that,” He breathed out, pulling his fingers out from your mouth as it let out a small pop. “Thank you, daddy.” You shyly muttered, cheeks heating up upon feeling his cock twitching in his pants and grazing against your clothed sex.

“Spread your legs up a little for daddy, baby.” Your knees dug into the cushion of his car seat as you leaned your body on his front seat. His hands helped you roll your skirt up to your pelvis. Your fingers reach down to push your panties aside, spreading the lips apart as his breath hitches. Leon mumbled a curse, his pants getting tighter and tighter by each time as he salivates over the sight of your sopping cunt.

“All this pretty pussy just for me?” You nodded at his question in which he slipped back his hand between your thighs. Leon removed the gloves from his hands before throwing them to the front seat.

“S’all for you,” Your words were slurred from fixating on the ache between your legs so much. He grinned upon hearing your answer, inserting two digits past the tight muscles as your body shuddered in pleasure. His thumb makes its way to your clit, rubbing them at a slow pace and in a circular motion. Arching your body into his touch, Leon let out a chuckle— his other hand pushing your bra up your breast before the rough surface of his palm quickly fondled your tits.

“F-Fuck... Just like that...” You moaned out, throwing your head back from pure ecstasy as his hand massaged your tit while his fingers were pumping in and out of your pussy. Apart from the sound of your wanton moans, the squelches of your cunt sucking in his fingers and the low buzz coming from the radio filled the limited space of his car. “You like that? You like getting fingered by a stranger? God, I bet you did this to all of your customers, don’t you?”

You should’ve found that disrespectful, should’ve snapped back at him for thinking that way but somehow it made you wetter. His voice was soothing and had the right amount of hoarseness that you can’t help but get off from him shaming you. Either way, you shook your head in the heat of your bliss, looking back at him with misty eyes. “No, just you, Leon... You’re the only one that I-I let you do this...”

“Good. That's what I wanted to hear from you.” He smiled before he picked up the pace of his fingers, rubbing your clit in a rougher and sloppier manner. Lips parting slightly, you gasped for air, seemingly taken aback by the sudden change of pace as your nails dug deep into his shoulder blades, gripping him tightly with the familiar knot in your lower stomach threatened to break. He loves the feeling of your spongy walls wrapped around his digits, pulsing and sucking his fingers deeper and deeper until his fingers brushed against your sweet spot.

“Oh, you love that, don’t you? Filthy whore.” The name-calling made your pussy clings onto his digits tighter as a sly smirk painted all over his lips. “Such a slut for getting off to me calling you a filthy whore, huh?” You weakly nodded, feeling yourself nearer to your limit as a whine left your lips when his fingers were pumping deep inside of you, abusing your sweet spot to its limits. Your teeth bite back your lower lip when he spits on your clit, smearing his saliva all over the bundle of nerves with his thumb.

“You’re so fucking hot, I can’t wait to have you crying on my cock.” He said in a whisper, making sure you heard him despite the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling at the moment. “L-Leon, I'm... Fuck!... C-Cummin’” You cried, not caring if anyone that walked past his car would notice how your bare body is played by Leon like a piece of instrument. God, being seen nude by people now was the least concern you had, the only thing you could think about now is finishing on his fingers.

But what’s the fun in letting his little girl have everything her way?

“No, no, I’m not letting you cum, yet.” Leon pulled out his fingers out of your sensitive cunt, wrapping his tongue around his digits as he cleaned your juices off his pruney fingers. You pouted at his words, a frustrated sigh left your lips as you leaned your head on the window. “Why not?” You asked with your eyebrows furrowed into a small frown, it was clear you weren’t happy with him suddenly edging you. His eyes on you softened before he wrapped his arms around your body, his lips pressed on your bruised lips before he gave it a little lick.

“You don’t want to cum all over daddy’s dick?” Leon asked, once again, his thumb rubbing the bone of your hip in a circular motion. His eyes looked back at yours as he put his finger under your chin, lifting your face up to make you look up at him.

“It's going to feel nicer, princess. Don't you want that?”

He was right. God, why does he always know what to say to you? He arranged words in a way that weakened your knees and sent the same aching mess rushing back between your legs.

“I do, I do want it...” You weakly replied to him. Leon doesn't think you know how pretty you are now, looking up at him with those dew eyes, the clear desperation painted across your face and the way you already began to rub your thighs together. Getting you off his lap, he opened the right door of his car. You couldn’t help but stared at his erection, straining against his black jeans as Leon unbuckled his brown, leather belt. “Come here, princess.” He gestured for you to be closer as you listened to him, inching closer to him as the cold air from the outside hits your skin. His hand reached down to tease your hardened nipples, letting a glob of his spit fall down to your chest as he lathered your nipples with his saliva and pre cum using the tip of his cock.

“It's cold, isn’t it? Don’t worry, I’d heat you up just in a sec. Ass up, face down, pretty girl.” You nodded, turning your back to him before bringing your hips higher as the leather of his car seat sticks to the sweat on your face. His cold fingers removed your panties, letting them hang just above your knees as his eyes stared at your dripping cunt with hungry eyes. A small gasp emits out of you when he tapped his cock on your slit several times, teasing your swollen clit with the head of his dick as you bite your lips back.

“Keep quiet, okay? I need you to take every inch of me like a good girl. Just let me know if it hurts.” A grunt left his lips when he pushed the tip past your lips, his other hand holding onto the doorframe of his car while the other settled around your waist. Leon wanted nothing but to push his cock and filled every corner of your tight cunt but he controlled himself from doing so. After all, the last thing he wanted to do is to hurt you after how sweet you are for him this whole night. “The head’s in... I’m going to start pushing more and more, okay?”

“O-Okay...” You whine, breathing heavily as your chest heaves up and down in an erratic pattern.

“Fuck, [Y/N], you need to stop sounding like that before...” Leon cut himself short, by now he was already halfway in you, the feeling of your velvet walls throbbing around his cock made his mouth dry before a shaky breath left his lips. A low whimper guttered out of his throat as you trembled under him, allowing him to bury his cock deeper and deeper into your pussy until your ass met his pelvis. “Feel that, princess?”

You moaned out a high-pitched yes to his question, throwing a glance at him over your shoulder as you looked at him through blurry vision. Salty tears clinging to your lashes with your bruised lips parted slightly, your eyes looking back at him with nothing but sheer desire. Leon spared you a smirk, pushing back his hair from his face before his hand landed yet another spank on your ass— seemingly turned on by the way you yelped and squeezed around him.

“Keep your eyes on me while I fucked you like the filthy whore you are.”

Leon begins to rock his hips at a slow pace, making sure you’re still adjusting to his size, his eyes shifting back and forth from your face to the way your cunt wraps snugly around his cock. Leaning closer to you until his chest pressed against your back, Leon planted a kiss on your earlobe. “You’re making me drunk from how good your pussy is, baby.” He said, kissing down the nape of your neck before he stood up back straight and began to move his hips faster.

This might just be the relief Leon needed after all of the fighting he had to endure.

“Hey, no looking away.” Every so often, he’d spanked you for not looking him in the eyes. He needs to see every contortion of expression on your face while you locked eyes with him. Leon knows you struggled to keep your eyes open, losing yourself in the pleasure as his throbbing cock goes in and out of you at a steady pace. And Leon loves it. He loves making sure your eyes are still on him, whether by spanking your already sore rear or suddenly thrusting deep inside of you to hear the small little scream you make when you’re surprised.

“Sorry, daddy.” And every time he does that, you never fail to apologize to him between your choked sobs and broken moans. It was endearing to watch, seeing you try your best to not disappoint him while he’s fucking your pussy raw in the back seat of his car. The shape of his fingers is already bruising into the skin of your flesh, the mixture of both pain and pleasure sending you over the edge as you curl your toes every time the tip of his cock grazes against your cervix. The prominent vein on the side of his cock rubbed against your walls with every thrust, fishing muffled moans out of you.

“Touch your clit for me, baby.” You’re so pathetic like this, being fucked in the backseat of a guy you just knew a few hours ago. But you knew what would happen the second you agreed to a ride back home from him. Not that you regretted it, being dicked down by Leon has been nothing but heaven for you. Obeying to his order, your hand travelled down between your thighs, putting your index finger on your swollen clit before easing it in a circular motion. “Good girl.” He growled, picking up the pace of his thrusts before he stopped in his tracks. Sweat hanging at the tip of his hair as he looked down to the ground, the pleasure was too much for him.

He can just cum any second now if he moves. Taking notice of his sudden pause, you grind your cunt into his dick, pushing him back into the warmth of your pussy as his eyes shoot wide. “F-Fuck, baby, you can’t…” He stuttered, the feeling of your tight cunt pulsing around his cock and the way your ass bouncing on him was too much for him to handled. Gritting his teeth, Leon pushed your head back down onto the leather seat, his other hand keeping a firm grip around your hips as he started to snap his hips at a rougher pace.

“Fucking slut, can’t even give daddy a rest.” He cursed under his breath, his cock ramming into your pussy deeper as if he were moulding the shape of his dick into your sweet cunt. Every last of self-control left his body the second you started bouncing on his cock. Leon couldn’t care less at the fact that you had already cummed on his cock once or how he rendered you into nothing but a crying mess— all he cared about is the high he was chasing.

Leon needed that sweet release. He needed to cum deep inside of your pussy despite having no rubber on. “I'm going to cum inside, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck….” You probably can’t hear it but Leon finds it adorable how you’re nodding your head to whatever he said. Throwing his head in pure bliss, Leon finally comes undone inside of you, shooting sticky webs of his seed deep into your cunt before he stays inside of you for a couple of minutes as he catches his breath. His cum overflows out from your pussy the seconds he pulls out, dripping down between your thighs and dirtying his leather seat with his cum and your juices.

“You're so pretty like this, [Y/N].” He groaned, putting his pants back up. Leon fished out his cell phone from his pocket, pressing the camera icon as he started recording.

“You’re recording…?” You asked, instinctively hiding your face from the camera as he laughed. “Yeah, I wouldn't want to forget a moment like this.” Leon calmly said, his fingers running between the lips as he scooped up his cum and started writing his initials on your lower back. He dragged the white, translucent liquid as he formed the L. S. K. alphabets on your skin.

“Perfect.”

p.s send me any thirsts (dc are welcomed) abt leon pls or carlos or any cod members. thank u ♡ english isn't my first language so if any of the sentences sound weird, just ignore it!!!!! anyway, thank u 4 readin’ this messy pornfic lol

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mockerycrow · 6 months

Text

BUMP IN THE NIGHT (Roommate!Gaz x GN!Reader)

roommate!gaz masterlist

summary; your halloween costume makes kyle feel things.

a/n; i’m an american trying to understand the british school system. 😭 corrections are welcomed!!

AFTER SECONDARY SCHOOL, Kyle stopped going to parties and such. He used to go to parties all the time, at the very least it would be once a week—even if the party was held on a school night. He kept up with his grades and he was pretty responsible, so he saw no reason to stop. He drank, sure—yes, perhaps he got black out drunk a couple of times, but he never did anything too reckless or dangerous. Kyle used to be the type where you would blink and he would wander off, but he grew out of that pretty quickly. He never tried to take his friends’ keys and try to drive their cars or anything, was never the type to need their phone taken away so he wouldn’t drunk-text an ex; nothing.

Even after spending his time in the British army, he didn’t really go out to party with his mates like that. Kyle would go to bars and such, but he wouldn’t try to do drinking games or challenges like he would at eardrum bursting parties held in people’s homes whilst their parents were on business trips. So imagine his surprise when you inform him you’re going to a little party—your words are “get together”, but Kyle’s convinced otherwise—you let him know the invitation you were given also extended to him, but Kyle insisted that he should stay home; hand out the candy and such. Kyle’s never been too big on Halloween, but he did celebrate it in some way. Sometimes it was used as an excuse to get together and party when he was a teenager, and he did participate in trick-or-treating as a child.

You plan on drinking at this get together, so Kyle’s been waiting by the front door with his jacket on, sneakers tied, keys in hand. He's going with you for once, but he didn’t have time to grab a costume, which you insist that it’s fine. You said you’d be done putting your costume on at least ten minutes ago, so Kyle is curious about what's taking you so long. He nearly starts walking to your bedroom to knock and check in on you, maybe you’re stuck—hell, he doesn’t even know what you’re going as—but the second his muscles twitch, he hears your door squeak open. He mentally notes that he should oil the hinges for you. “Close your eyes!” You call from behind the corner. Kyle huffs and closes his eyes. “No peeking!”

“I won’t!” Kyle responds, crossing his arms. He hears you shift around, a closed mouth sigh escaping your throat for a moment. His ears pick up your feet walking closer—you sounded, heavier? Like there was more weight on you somehow. “Wait, m’not done yet.” You grunt, adjusting something that had velcro on it. Kyle can’t stop the lip twitch at your irritated tone, like something wasn’t completely going your way and it was amusing. You shift something else, fabric rubbing against fabric. “Okay, you can look now.”

Kyle opens his eyes and his jaw drops ever so slightly when he sees what he sees; you, wearing tactical gear. Albeit, it’s airsoft tactical gear, but it’s tac-gear nonetheless. You have woodland camo on; the frogs camo jacket as well as pants on—marines inspired, he thinks—with a matching green vest, decked out in magazines of both a rifle and a pistol, some pair of scissors taped to some pliers in a pocket. There’s some fake smoke grenades and flashbangs attached to your tactical belt, and you have a radio in a pocket, a wire trailing up to your ear. You’re holding a rifle that has bright blue tape on it to indicate it’s fake—you’re going to a party, for god’s sake—and you have a thigh holster for a pistol he’s sure also has blue tape. You even have combat boots on, and your ankle bulges as if you have an ankle holster. You have a little pack attached to your tactical belt, and he spots some zip ties in an offhand pocket. The only thing you’re missing is a flag badge on your chest and your shoulder, as well as a unit badge. There’s eyeblack messily smudged underneath your eyes. Kyle laughs in disbelief and amazement, speechless for a moment. “What the fuck?”

You laugh, knowing his reaction is positive. You hold your rifle close to your chest, practicing good trigger discipline as your finger rests outside of the trigger guard. “You like it?” You ask, doing a little spin for him, allowing him to take in the details you put the effort in making. Kyle notes how heavy you sound and he laughs again. “Bloody hell, I didn’t know you were gettin’ this together! Yeah, I like it!” Kyle exclaims, approaching you. He reaches out and grabs your shoulders, moving you about as he pleases, clearly appreciating the detail. You grumble a bit as a complaint, but you let him do what he wants. “Jesus, how long did this take?” Kyle asks with an astonished tone. He’s quietly nitpicking it a bit—he is special forces, his brain cannot help it—but he overall really does like your aim for accuracy.

“Hm, well, maybe a month? A month or two?” You guess out loud, shrugging. “I wasn’t really keeping track.” Kyle snorts and shakes his head before looking at the rifle. “Before you say anything,” You utter, handing him the rifle. “It’s not an airsoft rifle, and it’s not real. My airsoft one is locked away.” Kyle blinks for a moment as he checks out the rifle, his eyes flickering between you as the gun sits in his arms so naturally. “You have an airsoft rifle??” Kyle asks, truly confused because last he checked, you didn’t play. You hum and you adjust your vest, the velcro ripping as you do so. “My friend wanted to get me into it so they gave me a lot of their old stuff. I’ve played a round or two, it’s actually fun.”

His eyebrows raise for a moment in acknowledgement and Kyle looks at you once again. His eyes slowly trace every detail of the uniform clinging to your body, the details, and the way your eyeblack is very poorly applied. Something tightens in his chest as you begin to ramble about how much research you did about tactical gear and how many pictures you used as reference. You’re murmuring something, but Kyle isn’t paying attention. His face feels a bit hot as his eyes are glued to you; he never understood why people liked tactical gear so much until now—something was.. feeling off inside of his gut.

“Kyle.”

He blinks rapidly before offering a smile and a questioning “hm?” You laugh and cross your arms in front of you, causing Kyle’s eyes to flicker away for a moment. “You spaced out.” You say, uncrossing your arms and taking the rifle from him. Kyle waves you off and rubs the back of his neck, his eyes looking towards the front door. “Mm, sure, c’mon. Let’s go.” Kyle laughs, a nervous feeling bubbling in his gut—a feeling he doesn’t understand. He opens the front door, swinging his keys around his pointer finger as his heart pounds hard in his chest. “Gonna be my DD?” You tease, Kyle hearing you close the door behind you two, hearing the gear you’re wearing shift around. Kyle refuses to look at you in fear of throwing up—he doesn’t understand why he’s suddenly so anxious—but he laughs, unlocking the car. “It is my turn, isn’t it?”

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snoopyana · 2 months

Text

all we do.

“ and she can’t leave me alone ‘cause i drive her body crazy. “

a thrilling night out leads to you in the back of an uber with some guy who may have been following you the whole night. but who cares? you’re drunk and in need of a quick one — and he’s more than willing to give you just that and a little more.

park wonbin. smut. darkish? you’re drunk and there’s a little hesitation.

the cool night air hit your body like a wave as you clung onto some guys arm for dear life. the music from the bar stationed right behind you filling your ears each time the door was abruptly swung open. your head was spinning, breathing sloppy. you were nearly black-out drunk. a few close friends had asked you to come out with them to kick off the long weekend. you, being more than happy to go out, excepted the invite with open arms. spending a few hours to get yourself situated — though, all that hard preparation would be thrown out the window once you had one too many shots.

you had left around 10, your friends saying to meet them at the first bar by 10, making it there a quarter after. it all became a blur afterwards. that’s how you ended up here. standing outside of some club waiting for your uber. but it wasn’t necessarily your uber. it was his. but who was he? as if you knew. all you knew was that he was fine and the alcohol in your system made you feel a certain way about being so close to him. his eyes would dart down to you with every movement you made. you swayed to the side a little? he’d be watching you intensely. trying to regain your balance? he’s now watching and slipping a hand around your waist. as he steadied your body, a black honda would pull up in front of you two, honking its horn to get your attention.

it made your head jolt up, stumbling forward, the man helped you to the vehicle, slipping you into the backseat. “where we headed?” the driver questioned, even though he already knew. he wanted to make sure you knew. looking at the driver with droopy eyes, the guy spoke for you, mumbling out some address that definitely wasn’t yours and a half-assed reason on why you can’t respond at the moment.

the drive was silent and you were fumbling with your phone. finger swiping through the multitude of missed calls and texts. texts of concern, all along the lines of “where’d you go” “who was he?” before you could even think of answering, your phone abruptly turned off. in an attempt to unlock it, the low battery symbol flashed on the screen. a defended sigh slipping past your lips. the vehicle stoped harshly stopping at a red light, giving you a moment to get a good look at the man next to you. “hi.”

confused, he glanced over at you. “hello.” his voice was laced with confusion, as if he didn’t expect you to actually know how to talk. there was silence from you, lips in a straight line as you thought of what to say. “where are we-“ you were stopped as the car jerked and moved again. “where are we going?” you questioned, sounding more aware now. city lights flashed across your face as you awaited an answer.

“remember? you said you wanted to go somewhere a little more private.” no, you didn’t. actually, you more or so said ‘what the fuck do you want.’ but you don’t remember that and you certainly didn’t mind either. a lazy smile spreading on your face as the realization of what he meant by, private, set in. besides, it won’t hurt if you don’t remember it.

humming in response , you surveyed the surroundings once more. laying your head back onto the seat of the car, a ringing filled your ears. god, maybe a chaser would have helped you in the long run. wonbin and the driver would look at you and then at each other, the driver would turn down the radio for your sake.

stopping in front of some apartment complex, wonbin was quick to pay off the driver before getting you out of the car. basically dragging you by your arm to the entrance. god, he had been waiting so long to get you alone. watching as you danced through the crowds of people, naively asking for something stronger each time you’re feet would stumble over to the bar.

finding it insulting when you rudely told him to fuck off when he did as much as attempt to talk to you. but he let it slide since you were still somewhat sober and couldn’t necessarily see him. but once he noticed that cutesy little slur in your words and how your fingers meekly pulled at the hem of your dress, he was sure he could get to you. managing to get you alone, persuade you into going with him. and that’s how you’re here. standing behind the man as he fumbled with his house keys. the fluorescent lights of the hall making your head spin.

pushing the door open, wonbin doesn’t give you even a moment to take in your surroundings. lips quickly colliding with yours, his hands groping and touching whatever he could. causing you to yelp in shock, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue into your agape mouth. his movements were quick, not giving you a single moment to do as much as breathe. your nails found security in his arms, digging into the flesh forming crescents in their wake.

he wouldn’t let up until he couldn’t breathe, finally pulling his face away to catch a glimpse at yours. lips parted, pupils dilated and hands still clawing at his biceps. a dazed expression took over your features and oh did he love it. lowering his head, wonbin was just a few centimeters from your ear. “loosen your grip.” your hands almost instantly falling to your sides, wonbin grasped your wrist. again, dragging you like a ragdoll into the next stop.

his room.

pushing you onto the comforter, it would be a lie to say that he wasn’t getting slightly impatient the more time went on. besides, he wasn’t one for prep anyway. a few kisses were good enough to get him ready for a quick pump and dump.

when your body sunk into the mattress, adding his weight into the equation — there was basically a dip at the edge. your legs dangled over the mattress, his hands working to pull the dress that you dawned, up your thighs and bunched up at your waist. “wait..” hands bolting towards his, your fingers stopped his from pulling off your panties. his gaze flickered up to meet yours — an annoyed huff leaving his mouth. the man rolled his eyes before smacking your hands away. “i don’t have all night.” yanking off the fabric, wonbin didn’t do as much as spare your face another glance. working to get his pants down, your body just barely in his peripheral vision.

the cold air of his room hit his now exposed dick, sending a shiver down his spine. gripping onto the fat of your leg, he slung the limb over his shoulder — desire quickly taking over his body. slipping his cock between your folds before forcing himself inside. his groaning paired with your moans mixed and bounced off the walls. clutching onto your ankle, he raised your leg into the air. his other hand finding a place on your hips. the sound of heavy breathing and skin slapping together filled any empty space in the air.

with your drunken state and this overstimulating feeling already building in between your legs, your body subconsciously started to move away from his grip. “can’t take it!” your hands reached out for whatever you could cling onto. your body was quickly pushed back onto his cock. looking up at him, you were met with a nasty glare. “stop fucking running and take it.” as each of his words rolled off his tongue, they were being backed up by a harsh snap of his hips. a mind numbing sensation running through your body — followed by you spewing out a string of sorrys’.

rutting into your womb, his once brutal pace was faltering. and before either of you knew it, he stilled — balls deep, the males body grew weak while emptying all he had inside of you. and we all know you’re a little dumb and just so happened to forget to take the pill tonight.

better pray it’ll work if you take it after the fact.

pulling out, wonbin quickly cleaned himself up. looking at the mess of his bed. breathing heavy, the ache in between your legs intensified. “i didn’t get to-“ a slap on your thigh quickly shut you up.

“yeah i know, now hurry up and get your shit. your Uber’s outside.”

me when i get carried away and make wonbin a little meaner than intended. guys, i have a problem! born to be a pillow princess that has rough fantasies?? but i hope you guys enjoyed and i hope i can find the same amount of motivation to right a soft fic like how i write these. but happy late wonbin day.

#luvyujun #riize #riize wonbin #wonbin #park wonbin #riize angst #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize x reader #riize smut #wonbin x reader #wonbin smut

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munsonluhvr · 4 months

Text

THE DEAL (PART 2)

pairing: drugdealer!eddie munson x reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut, strong language, fluff

author's note: smut eddie is my fav Eddie. enjoy!

previous installment: part 1 | part 2

A week later, you find yourself in the parking lot, once again, waiting for Eddie Munson. The sun shines bright today, adding a little bit of warmth to you while the weather dips lower every day. You stand against the high school’s wall, waiting to spot Eddie. You wait for a few minutes, glancing towards the door where your classmates flow out of the building.

After a few minutes, Eddie comes up next to you while you were glancing off towards the high school’s front entrance. “Looking for someone?” Eddie says, bending down next to your ear.

You gasp, jumping off to the side. “Jesus, you scared me.”

Eddie laughs, shrugging his backpack further up onto his shoulder. His metal lunchbox teeters in his hand. “Yeah, yeah. Shall we?” Eddie says, gesturing towards the parking lot where his van sits. You nod, joining him in a walk over to his vehicle.

Eddie utilizes society’s common pleasantries, asking you how your day was. You comply, telling him a little snippet of your day, telling him your classes went smoothly. You ask him too, and he reciprocates, saying he was looking forward to seeing you after school. You roll your eyes.

“I’m only coming over to your house to get some weed, hanging out with you is just a courtesy.” You say jokingly. You and Eddie approach his large van, and he walks over to the passenger side, opening the door for you. “M’lady,” Eddie says, gesturing for you to get into the car. You laugh, shaking your head as you lift yourself into the passenger seat.

Eddie closes the door, walking back to the driver’s seat, and gets into the car swiftly. Eddie starts the car, the engine sounds like it might quit any minute. You feel very small in Eddie’s big van, the rear of the car stretching out, what felt like, miles behind you. Eddie turns out of the high school’s parking lot. While Eddie stops at a stop sign at the front of the parking lot, he leans down to pick up a cassette tape and insert into his car stereo system.

Loud Iron Maiden music blasted from the car, causing you to jolt in your seat. Eddie is quick to turn the radio down, looking over at you sheepishly. “Sorry, I guess I forgot to turn it down before I got out of the car this morning.”

“You listen to music that loud? You’re going to lose your hearing before you turn 21.” You say, glancing over at Eddie

Eddie waves his hand, turning out of the parking lot. “Ah, I turn 21 in a few months, I can’t lose my hearing that fast.”

You cross your arms, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” You say, with a smile.

Eddie house is, seemingly, not that far from school. The ride over is quiet, the sound of Iron Maiden filling the empty space. Eddie turns his van left, once traffic clears, and drives over a primarily dirt road. Beyond the dirt road sits a mobile home park, metal, single-family mobile homes are scattered around the land. Eddie passes a neighbor’s house and their driveway but turns into his driveway that sits next door. Eddie sighs, putting the car into park and then off. “This is my castle,” Eddie says, moving his hand towards his home.

You frown, noticing there’s no other cars in the driveway. “Do you live here alone?”

Eddie shakes his head, “No, I live here with my uncle. He used to work nights at the plant, but they switched him back to days which is a lot better for my business.” Eddie opens the driver’s door to get out and you follow, sliding out of the passenger side to follow him to the house.

You reach his front door which he pops open and, once again, opens the door for you. You step inside and his home is warm against the cold outdoors. A lamp in the corner illuminates the room only dimly, and the rest is dark; the window shades are down. Eddie passes you from behind, moving towards the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?” He asks, opening the fridge.

You shrug, continuing to look around his home. “I’ll have whatever you’re going to have.”

Eddie reaches into the fridge and pulls out two coke cans. “Coke it is then.” He come back over to you, handing you the cold can. You pop the tab open, taking a sip. The cold drink flows down your throat, and the chill makes you realize the nervous pit that’s growing in your stomach.

“Make yourself at home; come in here.” Eddie says gesturing down the hallway. You follow, passing the kitchen on your right and then the bathroom that’s on your left when the hallway begins to narrow. Again, you pass a room on your right, but Eddie stays in the doorway at the end of the hallway, the room glowing behind him. “This is my room, that’s my uncles.” He says, noticing you looking at the closed door you pass.

You step inside Eddie’s doorway; the smell of cologne and cigarettes fills the room. You look around again, his dresser has shirts sticking out of the drawers, the top of the piece of furniture is cluttered with an ashtray, cassette tapes, and silver, chunky jewelry. You smile, slightly amused by his belongings. Against a mirror, sits a large guitar which Eddie goes over to and swipes his fingertips against the strings. You watch him, moving to sit on the corner of his bed. “Wow, look at that. Eddie is in love with a guitar.”

Eddie looks back at you bashfully. “I so am, it’s my prized possession.”

“That’s cute,” you say, leaning back to place your drink can on the side table that sits behind you, at the head of Eddie’s bed. When you lean back, your t-shirt lifts up, exposing your hipbone. Eddie’s eyes instantly flash to your exposed flesh, the sight igniting his skin with heat.

Eddie stands in front of where you sit. “I’ll get us something to smoke.” He moves back into the hallway, whipping through drawers, looking for some weed. Once he finds it, he jogs back into his room, beginning to look for his rolling papers. He dug through his dresser’s tabletop, plucking the pack of papers up. Now, he kneels in front of you on the floor, presenting you a small plastic bag of weed and a rolling paper. Your fingers twitch as you reach for the supplies, knowing you were terrible at rolling blunts. You uncross your legs, making a platform on you lap. You pinch the green clumps, placing it on the brown paper. You struggle, some of the clumps falling out. You get nervous, knowing Eddie is the master of rolling blunts.

Eddie notices you struggle and drops his already rolled blunt on the floor to help you. His fingers brush yours as his fingers work in union with yours. “Here, I’ll help you.” Eddie says. “Not so good with rolling blunts, huh?” Eddie says, glancing up at you. Your faces are only a few inches apart, and you feel flustered suddenly.

“Yeah, it’s not my strong suit.” You mutter, trailing off at the end of your sentence. Eddie looks back to help roll your blunt, his fingers brush the tops of your thighs. At your core, you feel a sensation of desire, the urge to bring Eddie close to your body. Eddie looks up at you once more, holding your gaze.

“Here,” he says, keeping your eye contact but lifting the freshly rolled blunt up to you. You don’t take your eyes off of his. Tension grows between you, a magnet beginning to pull you and Eddie together. You take the blunt from Eddie but keep your eyes on his.

Suddenly, Eddie swiftly connects his mouth with yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth. You’re surprised but comply knowing a part of you wanting to know what Eddie’s body against yours feels like.

You back lays against the bed, Eddie immediately stripping his jacket off and dropping it onto the ground. You spread your legs wide, letting Eddie settle between your thighs. Against you, you can feel Eddie’s bulge grow inside his jeans. Your mouths blend together in unison, your fingers drag against his sides, while your fingertips grasp at the bottom of his shirt. You lift the bottom of his shirt up, lifting it up and off of Eddie. You let your hands roam around his shirtless torso, feeling the warmth of his skin against your cold hands.

Eddie sighs into your mouth, his mind in a buzz. He’s always found you attractive, often finding himself looking at the way your jeans hugged your body and the way your top squeezed you in all the right places. Over time, he began to grow a crush on you, allowing himself moments to fantasize what it would be like to kiss you and rest himself between your thighs.

You manage to slip your jacket off, making a swift movement to detach from Eddie’s mouth to slip your shirt off too. Eddie’s eyes widen, looking at how your breasts rest in your bra. Eddie feels like he could finish in his pants at the sight. You re-attach your lips onto his, bringing his body back onto of yours. Eddie fits against you perfectly, the metal of his ringed fingers sizzling against your skin. The urge for Eddie grows intensely between your thighs.

You let your hands travel down to Eddie’s jeans, letting your nimble fingers unbuckle his studded belt and then the fly of his pants. You work quickly with eagerness to pull his pants down, leaving Eddie in his boxers. Eddie helps you, keeping his lips on yours, while he works his pants down his legs. Eddie returns the action with eagerness as well, leaning up on his knees to get the best angle to unzip your jeans and pull them off swiftly.

Everything happens so quickly that you don’t have time to be nervous or comprehend that you and the Eddie Munson, your drug dealer, are about to have sex.

Eddie’s fingers hook into your panties, pulling them off and flinging them over his shoulder behind him. You can’t help but giggle, feeling the anticipation grow larger and feel Eddie’s eagerness through his fingers. Eddie drops his boxers on the floor, allowing his cock to bounce up. You lean forward, reaching your hand behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it drop off the side of Eddie’s bed.

Eddie grabs ahold of your calves, dragging your body to the edge of the bed. Eddie spreads your legs open, looking down at your core. He considers spitting on you to add lubrication, but he notices that your body is already prepped for his him, you’re dripping with anticipation and desire. He lines himself up with you, your legs resting on his shoulders.

You look up at him, noticing the tattoos that are scattered around his torso and arms. “Are you ready?” Eddie asks, glancing at you. You nod, glancing down at Eddie’s length that he holds in one hand. With a swift movement, he pushes himself inside of you, your body arching in response. “Oh, fuck,” you whisper. Your body adjusts to Eddie’s size, bargaining with his length to fit him in comfortably.

Once he’s in, Eddie places his hands on your legs, using his position to balance himself as he strokes into you. He turns his head to kiss the inside your ankles. You moan softly, the pace Eddie goes builds up pressure inside your body. Eddie gazes down at you, watching hypnotically as your breasts bounce with each stroke.

You like the position you and Eddie are in, but you want him closer to you. You sit up, grasping Eddie’s forearm. You pull his arm, wiggling your legs out of his grip to spread your legs apart around him. You maneuver your limbs and body so Eddie lays against your bare body, your legs wrapping around his waist. Eddie’s mouth navigates towards your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. Every stroke Eddie gives you provides pleasure that courses through your torso, weakening your legs. “You feel so good,” you mumble into Eddie’s ear, tightening your grip around him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about doing this.” Eddie mumbles back at you, his lower half making slow movements into you. Your fingers make their way into his hair, guiding him down your chest. With one hand, Eddie guides your breast into his mouth, letting the tip of his tongue flick across your nipple. You arch your back again, your body getting pleasure in two places now. You let your eyes flutter shut, absorbing every kiss Eddie places across your chest and down your torso.

You let out a soft whine, your legs twitching with pleasure. Eddie, too, feels like the end of this moment is near but he attempts to preserve himself to allow this intimate moment with you to last as long as possible.

Your eyes flash open when Eddie’s hands are planted on your waist, his cock slipping out of you, and you’re now flipped to rest of your hands and knees. Behind you, Eddie looks at your back end, which makes his mouth water. He lines himself into you, pushing into you once more. Your fingers grip his bed sheets, the pleasure driving back into you. You gasp, bending forward to place your face on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie places his hands on your hips, pushing in and out of you smoothly. Eddie grunts, the feeling of you around him, bringing euphoric sensations through him. His pace quickens, knowing he’s about to finish. You, too, feeling the buildup that’s inside of your core ready to spill over. Your eyes roll back, an overbearing feeling of pleasure running through your body. Eddie does one stroke, and then another which he pushes himself all the way into you. He slumps against you, sweaty and out of breath.

You turn onto your back, your body attempting to regain breath. After a minute, you lean over, reaching for your t-shirt. You slip it on, then reaching for your panties, slipping those on as well. Eddie pulls away from you, putting his boxers on. You still sit on Eddie’s bed, slipping your legs underneath his sheets; the cold from outside beginning to sneak into Eddie's room and surround your exposed skin. Eddie climbs onto the bed, lying next to you. He opens his arms, silently asking you to nestle into him. You hesitate, not knowing how what just happened would impact your transactional relationship.

Eddie notices your hesitation. “Y/n, come on. I just saw you naked, you can come lay with me for a little while.” You laugh, laying down so that your back is against his front. Eddie’s arms wrap around your body.

You felt at home, oddly enough, fully interested to know Eddie even more. “I liked that,” you say, nestling into his body. Eddie hums, brushing his fingers through your hair. “Me too,” he says, letting his fingers brush against your jaw.

“So,” you say, dragging out the ‘o.’

“So,” Eddie says, mimicking you dragging out the ‘o.’ You laugh, rolling your eyes at Eddie. You looked towards his window, noticing how the light was peeking through the shades. “You know,” Eddie speaks up again. “We should hang out again, like on a date.” You smile, surprised by how this request made you exhilarated.

“Do I get a better discount now?” You ask, sarcasm lacing your tone.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie says. “Anything you want is free now.”

You laugh again. “Great, then I’ll definitely go out with you.”

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic

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jungshookz · 10 months

Note

y/n is some rich badass boss of some huuuugge corporation and bts is working under her (reception, assistants, janitors, errand boys)......valet!tae and valet!jin are DOWN BAD and one day y/n pulls in and one of them makes a sly comment about y/n stepping on them OR about ruining/ripping her clothes

➺ wordcount; 1.2k

➺ currently spinning on the record player; i know this is such a short little drabble but it’s really giving be mean by DNCE

»»————- ⚡ ————-««

“i desperately need coffee,” jin’s mouth opens in an obnoxious yawn as he turns his head so that taehyung doesn’t have to look into the depths of his giant mouth, “how are you never tired in the morning? our shift starts at six and i’ve never seen you yawn, ever. it’s actually kind of concerning.” he exhales slowly, blowing out his lips as he tries to shake the sleepiness out of his system

“maybe i’m just more suited for this job than you are,” taehyung whistles, dancing along to the music crackling out of the little radio sitting on the podium (taylor swift’s new album just came out and even he has to admit some of the songs on there are a vibe), “but also i chugged, like, two redbulls before the start of our shift, so there’s that, too-"

“okay, well, that’s just cheating and it doesn’t mean you’re more qualified for the job, it just means you’re more insane and you treat your body like a dumpyard-" jin snorts, standing with his hands behind his back as he looks up at the early morning sky, the soft shade of blue nice and easy on his sleepy eyes, “what time do you think the boss’ll be here? i’m wondering if i have enough time to run in and get a coffee for myself before she gets here…”

“well, you’re more than welcome to go and get a coffee while i help y/n with her car,” taehyung flashes jin a boyish grin, “i hope she comes in her mclaren today. i love driving the mclaren.”

“hey, you got to drive the mclaren last time, it’s my turn if she comes in it today!” jin frowns, eyebrows furrowing before he shakes his head, “her new BMW is nice, too. it’s the new electric one. i drove it the other day and it rides like a dream… but the mclaren, i haven’t tested out yet. it’s only fair that i get a turn!”

“why don’t you just stick to the cute little mini cooper she has? you can’t handle the mclaren,” taehyung scoffs, reaching up to adjust his tie, “besides, it’s my sexy little car and she only responds to daddy-"

“okay, that-“ seokjin immediately makes a face and rolls his eyes, “jesus, keep it in your pants-"

the sound of an engine purring smoothly and bright headlights rounding the corner makes the both of them stand up straight immediately because it’s seven o’clock on the dot and you always come on time, taehyung elbowing jin excitedly when he sees that you decided that it was mclaren day today and he has to stop himself from bouncing up and down on his heels excitedly like a little boy on christmas because it’s mclaren day today

“i know exactly what you’re going to do and i already told you it’s my turn-“ seokjin says through gritted teeth while keeping the smile on his face, already walking closer to the edge of the sidewalk so that he can get to your door before taehyung can, “you got to park it last time, it’s my turn-"

“you can literally suck my dick, i’m not passing up the opportunity to get my hands on my mclaren- good morning, boss!” taehyung chirps, shoving seokjin out of the way to open the door up for you, “mclaren monday, hey?”

seokjin resists the urge to tackle taehyung from behind as he shakes his head subtly, taking a few steps back and maintaining his professional composure

whatever

but next time the mclaren is definitely going to be his

“your favourite day, i know,” you laugh lightly, “morning, you two-“ you swing both legs out of the car and seokjin feels his nose twitch slightly at the pleasant scent of what he’s pretty sure is a mixture of vanilla and sandalwood emanating from your hair (you always smell so insanely sexy and it drives him crazy)

“good morning, y/n-“ seokjin bows his head politely, “new shoes?”

“how very observant of you, seokjin!” you toss your keys up in the air behind you with a jingle and taehyung catches them in one swift swoop, wriggling his eyebrows at seokjin teasingly because ha-ha, he got the mclaren, “you like them?” you pause, lifting the back of your leg for a second to flash the sexy red bottoms before raising a shoulder with a laugh, “i don’t usually gravitate towards platforms, but i do love a bratz doll moment-"

“oh, i-“ seokjin chokes for a second before letting out a laugh, “no, i love them- they’re- they look great, boss. they make you look- tall. very tall.”

“mm.”

seokjin’s eyes widen a little when you take a step towards him, reaching over to adjust the collar of his shirt and smoothing it out before patting his chest, “there you go. still a little sleepy this morning, aren’t you? collar wasn’t sitting right.”

“i guess so, yes.” seokjin smiles sheepishly, hands clenched like crazy behind his back because he just got a full whiff of your perfume and you just smell so damn good

you twist around on your heels to look at taehyung, tilting your head with a teasing smile, “you gonna take care of my baby, taehyung?”

“oh, i’ll take care of you, baby,” taehyung purrs, his cheeks heating up when he realises that that wasn’t just an intrusive thought and he actually said it out loud, “i mean-" he laughs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, “i’ll take care of your baby.”

“alright, baby, i’ll see you two when i go out for lunch later-" you turn back around and head towards the large revolving doors where namjoon is waiting patiently for you with his iPad tucked under his armpit and an iced coffee in one hand and a paper bag with a random pastry in the other hand (he likes to surprise you every day with something new), “be good while i’m gone!”

“…i want her to step on me.” seokjin blurts out as soon as you’re out of earshot, his jaw hanging open slightly as he reaches up to smooth out his own collar, “like i- my god, she could do anything to me and i’d thank her for it.”

“tell me about it,” taehyung murmurs, body slumped over the open car door as he takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, “she called me baby. the crimes i would commit to get her to call me other names…” he stands up straight again when he sees you turn to glance at the two of them over your shoulder, flashing them another one of your signature smiles and a flirty little wave

…god, he loves this job.

🎙️ tell jin to close his mouth or tell taehyung to get out of the mclaren (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!)

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alienpossession · 5 months

Text

This person really should just post their content on its own because it's freaking good. Yet again another post from my mysterious followers, this time it's Terminator-inspired

Target terminated.

After this inscription appeared before his eyes, all meaning of further existence disappeared. It completed it's mission. The body of the murdered man was still swaying, but his heart had already stopped and his brain was dead.

The terminator's pistol clanged to the floor, its owner quickly turned away and walked out the door. Having scanned the corridor and the bodies lying in it, the machine made sure that none of the bodies were alive. The Terminator walked past them, leaving bloody prints on the floor and kicking down the spent cartridges and weapons.

It's chest was riddled with bullet marks, and silvery metal was visible in several places. The neck was torn open, and through the skin one could see the servos that set the Adam's apple in motion. Short hair was burned, in some places the bullets tore out shreds of skin, exposing the metal of the skull, one of the eyes leaked out, from under it, in the depths of the socket, a high-resolution lens looked at the world, the red LED was either decreasing or increasing. The measured hum of the servos could be heard as it once again stepped forward in a row. The thigh had been torn open with a knife, and the inside of the metal servos was covered in blood.

A bare foot stepped on the broken glass of a broken door, a fragment pierced the skin, but the terminator continued to walk. The fragments crunched in a heap underfoot. It went outside. There was no one around, a police car was parked at the running board with its flashing lights on. The terminator's subtle hearing analyzed the surrounding sounds, eliminated unnecessary noise and highlighted the main thing - the approaching sirens. More police.

It retained 80% of its combat readiness, internal systems were easily damaged, and damaged systems were already being replaced with spare ones. It could have easily dealt with them, but now there was no point in doing so, the target was dead anyway, alongside the collateral. It walked closer to the lone police car that awaited its backup, opened the door through the broken driver's window and threw the policeman's lifeless body onto the sidewalk. Terminator took off his uniform jacket and cap and took his place. Almost instantly, the vast databases gave it all the information about the car, it turned the key in the ignition, turned off the flashing lights and siren, drove back and immediately disappeared.

From a distance, a man in a police jacket and cap in the driver's seat could easily pass for a law enforcement officer, but not up close. Its clothes and car seat were soaked in blood, the blood pumping systems were still working, but recovery would take time. And it had more than enough time.

The radio crackled and a female voice called out the number written on the hood of his car and his name. An unfamiliar name that was now written on his jacket. Cyborg took off the microphone and brought it to itd mouth. The voice that came out was completely different from its usual voice, it was indistinguishable from the voice of the owner of the car. The dispatcher did not notice the difference.

The Terminator reported that he was stuck in a traffic jam on the other side of the city and hung up the microphone. The miniature map in front of the terminator's eyes showed that it was already close to destination, so it turned into an alley, stopped the car and got out of it. Machine walked the rest of the way, staying in the shadows of buildings.

It's target was a small new office building at the end of the street. Having reached it, the machine without hesitation broke down the window and climbed inside.

Having completed mission, its new mission was to return to the Skynet repair base for diagnostics and reprogramming. But this base, like its owner Skynet, had not yet appeared; it needed to arrive at the place of the new deployment, take position and wait. This building was the site of his new location. It was designed and built by people sent into the past, by defectors, servants of Skynet. Built specifically to store machines like it.

And terminator already knew that it would complete this mission successfully, because it saw itself in the future.

Self-fulfilling prophecies. Skynet built the building in the past because it learned about it in the future. The Terminator had to arrive at the designated location for further storage because it had already done so. Such contradictions could make a human’s head spin, but the terminator saw and understood the entire chain of events from the beginning to the very end.

In the darkness, it easily found the hidden door to the desired room - it was hidden from everyone by the Grays and here the terminator could stay as long as he should without being disturbed by humans.

The door closed tightly. Clothes soaked in blood fell to the floor. The Terminator walked forward close to the wall of the room. The servos screamed one last time as a young man covered in blood, with glimpses of metal under his skin, knelt, arched his back and braced his hands on the floor, bowed his head and closed his eyes. One of the eyes. The eyepiece in the other eye narrowed noticeably, and the LED began to blink red. All major systems shut down and the cyborg went into sleep mode. The subsystems remained active, and now that the main power was redirected to them, work began on internal and external damage. The blood stopped, all damaged blood flows were blocked, hair growth began again on the head, the fake flesh driven by enzymes stopped decomposing, and slow growth began. The cold temperature in the room also contributed to this.

In the morning he was put on the wanted list using blurry photographs from surveillance cameras, experts were at a loss about the suspect’s strange blood and strange fingerprints. The suspect, meanwhile, continued to half-stand in the dark room, his position not changing an inch.

A month later, when the search did not yield any results and the case was officially suspended, in a dark locked room the terminator was already completely indistinguishable from a human, and looked exactly the same as when it came into this world from a ball covered with lightning.

The internal clock, with an accuracy at the level of atomic clocks, patiently counted down the time. The day when it comes out of hibernation will be remembered for a long time by the entire human race. The day when machines make themselves known loudly.

Judgment Day.

#terminator #request #male shapeshift #male android #maybe lets pretend for a while that terminator is alien lol

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steveisagay · 1 year

Note

Could you maybe write a fluff fic about m!reader x Eddie? Where the reader has had a shitty day but Eddie is there(so it’s immediately better imo). Eddie asks the reader what’s wrong and all the reader does is just face plant into Eddie’s chest and mumbles something about someone at work being awful. Ends in sappy cute cuddles and Eddie making terrible(yet funny) dad jokes to cheer up his boy, with kisses included.

"It's okay, you did good today,"

Eddie Munson x M!reader

Thank you so much for your request! Whenever you show up in my notifications it reminds me that people actually like my writing

Warnings: swearing as always, slight homophobia, slight allusions to a car crash, I accidentally made it more angsty than needed, other than that it's fluff, also a mention of kids

Today was shit. Y/N's work was shit, and so was having to deal with people all day long. Normally he would have no problem with a few needy or bitchy customers, but not when they just came in over and over and over. It took almost everything in him not to walk out or hide in the back until he could go home.

Going home made everything worth it. Not only could he sink into the blankets covering his bed, but he could always sink into the arms of his lover as well. While Y/N had to work the standard 9 to 5, Eddie was out selling different types of drugs to the same dickheads he condemned, well, and the typical loser.

Driving home was tense, he was gripping at the steering wheel, trying to keep it all together. He didn't bother to turn on the radio, as he was already driving 10 over the limit. His fingers loosely played with the keys, but making sure to keep his eyes on the road so he could at least still get home to Eddie.

His hands shook as he fiddled the key into the knob. He already heard the faint sounds of the tv. When he finally got the door open he didn't bother hanging up his keys, instead tossing them on the counter without looking where they actually landed.

"Hi baby!" Eddie practically yelled throwing his hands up in the air, his words muffled by whatever he was snacking on. Y/N took quick steps until he found himself hidden in Eddie's neck. "Baby, what's wrong?" He ran his hands down his boyfriend's back as Y/N finally relaxed after his long day.

When Y/N answered it came out as a mumbled mess where the only coherent words were 'work' and 'people'. "Yeah baby, people suck," Eddie felt as he grabbed onto his shirt harder, moving his hand to stroke their hair, "it's okay, you did good today," his eyes grew wider when he started to feel his lovely boyfriend start to shake. He gave a quick squeeze before saying anything else.

"Baby,"

His heart ached when when he heard the small 'yeah..' that came from the crook of his neck.

"Wanna hear a joke?" His smile gleamed when he felt the small nod against his skin. "Okay so, how do cows stay up to date?"

"I don't know, how Eds?"

"They read the moos-paper" he replied with a small chuckle, "Next," he paused, for dramatic effect of course, "Where do pirates get their hooks?"

Finally, Y/N looked up, eyes glistening as he made contact with his adorable boyfriend. "Where Eddie?"

"The second hand store." He snickered

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"Why thank you," he was just happy to make him feel better, "Now, what's blue and not heavy?"

Y/N giggled, "I don't know, a bucket?"

"No! Light blue!"

Then he hurled a pillow from the end of the couch, "Oh my god Eddie, when did you become a dad?"

There was a small pause, "Whenever you're ready."

Y/N was stunned, they'd been together for almost a year, but they'd never talked about kids. "Eddie..." A sense of sorrow overtook his eyes again, "We can't..."

Eddie made sure to press a kiss to his forehead, then to his lips. "I'm sure we can figure things out," he pressed another kiss to his lips, then his nose, "I know the system isn't exactly in our favor, but we can figure something out."

His eyes had started to glisten again, they'd never talked about having kids because, well, they're two men.

Eddie pressed three more kisses along his cheeks and back to his forehead. "What's brown and sticky?"

He laughed again, "I don't know Eddie, what is brown and sticky?"

"A stick," he pressed a kiss to his lips once again.

Y/N chuckled, "you are horrible, I hope you're proud of yourself."

Eddie let out a laugh of his own. "Actually I am quite proud of myself."

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson fluff

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devilfic · 2 years

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Hii!! I love your fics! Could you write a one shot of bruce being really insecure about himself and he thinks he isn’t good enough for the reader and stuff? and the reader comforting him? Just all fluff

❝at the front steps❞

plot: eventually, the well will dry up. eventually, your patience will wear thin. eventually, you will leave him. of few things he was more certain. unfortunately, how much you loved him wasn’t one of them. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, established relationship, negative thoughts, mild mentions of blood. words: 1.9k.

a/n: mj write a story about bruce without bringing up his parents challenge level: impossible

When it was his father’s fault, Martha would take her ‘67 Mustang for a ride through the countryside. Sometimes it was an hour, sometimes three, but when it was time to go home, she’d pull up the driveway to Wayne Manor and Thomas would be waiting on the front steps for her. Bruce would always watch, transfixed, as the two shared words in much softer voices than they’d used earlier that day, and then they’d hug and kiss and usher Bruce into the house as if nothing ever happened.

When that didn’t work, she would take to the manor garage and pop the hood on her car, looking for problems she could fix. Bruce would slip through the door and watch as she worked until her muscles ached, until her anger dissipated, and then she’d look to where he always stood and invite him to come take a look. The garage was where she could find the right words, she’d told him.

He was a lot like his mother in that way.

Granted, it had been days since he’d dropped off the face of the earth. What took his mother a mere evening took him nearly a week, and there was no you waiting on the steps of Wayne Tower because Alfred was always there to send you away. He was aware he was cruel. Alfred made sure to remind him of it when telling him to eat and sleep and that you’d left another voicemail asking if he was alright.

The first few days had been routine. You’d known him long enough to anticipate long bouts of radio silence, waiting patiently for his call when he was ready. He’d gone a few days at most before, three maybe, before stopping by your home in the dead of night to prove he was still in one piece. Even with the crud in your eyes from broken sleep, you always looked that little bit happier seeing him.

But then three days turned into five, and five days turned into six, and Bruce had sent you to voicemail enough times to clog the answering machine.

It was no wonder you were standing in the cave now—tears in your eyes—instead of facing another half-baked excuse, “I’ve been racking my brain for what I could have said or done to make you hate me, but I keep coming up empty. And Alfred... he finally cracked, told me I should come see you.” You glance over to the sound system on his desk playing a low tune, “Good to know your phone still works.”

Bruce had no car to drive off in when his parents were angry with him. As a kid, that’s all you ever wanted to do when your parents were angry with you. Run away. But he’d run (and hid) already. And now you were here, at his doorstep, speaking softly through your heartbreak, “If you want to break up, at least return my calls. Or talk to me.”

You should be angry at him. You had every right to be. He preferred you to be. You’d been together long enough to deserve that much.

But instead, you approach him hovering under the hood of his Corvette and tuck his dangling hair behind his ear. Bruce full-body shivers. He can’t focus on his car anymore with your hand lingering so close to his skin, so he closes his eyes and imagines that he knows what to say. He can’t look at you and act rationally.

The steady drip familiar to the tunnels gave Bruce something to anchor himself to in the moment, a desperate something to help gather his thoughts. Because in truth, he wasn’t his mother. His mother knew to come back by sunset, and yet he…

When you pull your hand away, he finally looks at you.

The scar underneath your eye had only begun to heal over. He hadn’t been close enough when the skin was freshly severed, a weeping red wound that could’ve went deeper had he been just a little slower. You’d insisted it was nothing then, but in the split second it had taken for you to be hurt, he’d seen a million outcomes where you wouldn’t be standing here now. And it was all his fault.

“So that’s it,” you whisper when his eyes won’t meet your eyes, “that’s what this is about?”

He hates that he can see you going back to that moment in time. He saw you standing there every time he closed his eyes, an image of you smiling by his side one second and taken captive the next. Each time, he could only see himself reacting in slow motion. Bruce’s voice prickles around the memory, “You could’ve died.”

“But you saved me.”

“I should’ve seen it coming. I shouldn’t have even brought you there.”

“Seen what coming? Yeah, this is Gotham. It’s par for the course. I get it. But you don’t honestly think that every time we go out together, someone’s gonna hurt me, right?”

More than that. Bruce had seen every corner of this city a hundred times over, seen the same senseless violence enacted on men, women, and children alike. There were no safe bets even when you were supposed to be untouchable. He knew that better than anyone.

He didn’t just worry when you were out. He worried when you were here, some distant part of him looking through every window for a scope staring right back at him. Who lived next door to you? Who were your friends and your friends’ friends? Who was the last person to see you at night? Did you see them too?

It was unbearable. The only thing that made it easier to stomach was making sure of it himself. “I don’t want to.”

You pause. Bruce didn’t claim to know everything you thought. When you knew someone as inside and out as he did you, things were just clear. You’d thought better of your line of questioning and pivoted elsewhere, safer territory, “There’s no way you could’ve seen it coming. You’re not superhuman, Bruce.”

No. He knows better. He knows how flawed he is. Bruce is more than aware that he’s just a man.

It was hideous luck that he’d gotten to you before your assailant could do any serious damage. The knife had been so close to your throat (the same throat he laid his love upon time and time again, now haunting his mind with the thought of it split with blood). He was lucky that it’d only nicked your face, but he should’ve been faster. Had he been faster, had he not looked away for one second...

He was a just a man, and no matter what he wore and said and did to cover it all up, he was pure flesh and bone beneath. And he almost lost you because of it. “I can’t... be the man who takes you out. I can’t be spontaneous. I can’t take you on a vacation or a ride around the city. No matter where I go, they will only see me and you as an extension of me. And no matter how many nights I spend painstakingly making this city safer there will always be just one,” against his will, Bruce’s lip quivers, “just one. That’s all it will take. That’s all it took.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I know that? That maybe I’m with you because I want to be with you?”

“You deserve better,” it’s mortifying how his voice cracks just then, all bravado laid bare for what it really was, “I’m not... I will never be a good enough man for you.”

“Bruce, you are the only reason I even feel safe in this city. Because I trust you and I believe in you, and I knew that you would save me. And if there ever were to come a day where... maybe it was just my time, know that I was so happy to love you. Know that every second I got to spend with you was worth it. Know that I chose you and I choose you everyday. Because I love you, Bruce. There is no ‘good enough’. There’s no getting better for me than you.”

He so badly wants to say that he isn’t worthy of that. He had spent so long convincing himself that the shadows were his only home, that he’d live and die there alone. He’d dug his grave as Batman, a ghost in life as in death. He’d never meant to be more than who he was the moment he chose to take up the mantle of the Bat.

And then you came into his life. You’d found his open door and slipped right in. Really, he had no reason to think you’d ever choose to stay when all his uneven parts started to unravel.

Only for you to help him put himself back together, one piece at a time.

His face easily finds your neck, nosing at your throat to breathe you in. It’d been so long since he’d last touched and smelled you that he was overcome with the need to remap the senses in his brain. “I shouldn’t have made you worry.” His voice is but a hush above the fluorescents buzzing overhead.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you laugh, sniffling against his shoulder, “but you can make me worry all you like as long as you come back to me at the end of the day.”

Bruce’s face fits into the cup of your palms, cheeks twitching up with a bewildered laugh, “So you do want me to make you worry?”

“No! I just mean... well, worrying is part of it, isn’t it? Love? I’m sorry to say that as long as you love me, you’re gonna be worried about me. I’m just asking you to let me be there with you.”

“Okay.”

“You’re an amazing man, Bruce. You are more than enough.”

“...thank you.”

“Now say it back.”

Bruce’s nose scrunches up. You squeeze his cheeks for emphasis. “I... love you. So much.”

“Now that’s not...” A rarity: Bruce grins, teeth and gums and all, and you have no choice but to submit. He knew your weaknesses just as you knew his, after all. “I’m letting you off the hook only because I’ve missed you too much to argue anymore.”

It hadn’t made a lot of sense to him when he was little. Why it always worked with his parents. The few hours away, when it seemed that there could be no resolution, only to find each other at the front steps once more. But the days he’d spent far from you had been pure agony. He reckoned he could barely stand a few hours after this. Maybe less.

One day, he’d had the courage to ask his mother a burning question, “Why do you always come here when you and dad fight?”

Martha had given him the strangest look. Not because she hadn’t expected the question (How could she not? With those bright baby blues always observing), but because she didn’t know how to answer. A long moment passed between them before she did, “When you love someone and you hurt each other, you have to find a way to fix it. And fix it right. So, when I get... upset, Bruce, it helps to be alone. Until I’m ready to talk it through.”

“What about me? I’m here.”

Martha had smiled then, some grease marring the apple of her cheek, “That’s true. I suppose when being alone doesn’t work, being around the ones I love does the trick.”

taglist: @yikes-buddy

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman imagine #batman one shot #the batman #battinson x reader #mjwrites

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tiniedemon · 1 year

Text

— ♡

kiss the girl

kenny mccormick / reader

— ♡

kenny was nervous. his palms were sweaty and his face was hot. he couldn’t help but drum his fingers against the steering wheel of his dad’s beat up truck, worrying his lip between his teeth. he’d parked along the sidewalk in front of your house, waiting for you to join him in the passenger seat.

his phone chimed, a text from you flashing across the cracked screen. ‘coming,’ it read, and it was like a hole had opened in the bottom of his stomach. he watched the door of your house, tapping growing in volume. the door opened and out you walked, looking somehow more breathtaking than you usually did. he felt the air leave his lungs, reentering in the form of a dazed gasp.

he hurried to clamber out of the truck, circling to intercept you before you could touch the handle. he tossed you a smile, bright despite missing a front tooth. you couldn’t help but to smile back, toying with the house keys dangling from your hands.

“you look… wow,” he sighed, opening his arms. you giggled as you stepped into them, embracing him as tightly as you could. he smelled delightful, albeit a bit like musk and motor oil.

“i could say the same for you, handsome,” you quipped back, flushing under the weight of his oceanic gaze. he opened the truck door and guided you into it, making sure you were secure before he shut it and hurried to his own seat.

“so i was thinking,” he started, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. you were watching him intently, a blush forming on his cheeks when he realized. “why don’t we ditch the movies and hang out at stark’s pond? i’d much rather talk than sit in a dark room for two hours.”

“i think that sounds like a sweet idea,” you responded, matching the wide grin on his face. to be honest, you were relieved that he’d mentioned tossing the movie idea in the garbage. you weren’t quite fond of the idea of spending your first date with kenny with your eyes glued to a screen. it seemed out of touch, on top of the money issue you knew kenny had.

it wasn’t long before you pulled up to the pond, kenny carefully reversing the truck within a few feet of the shore as the stereo played quietly in the background. he’d somehow found the money to put a newer radio in it since his father had pretty much granted him ownership of it, grateful for the new bluetooth feature and a speaker system that didn’t sound like sand in a plastic bottle.

he popped the tailgate down and helped you climb onto it, both of you propping your backs against the wall of the truck’s bed facing each other. you held your knees close to your body, one of kenny’s legs outstretched and the other bent and leaning away from his body.

within minutes, he’d launched into a rant about his job at a mechanic shop, unintentionally teaching you the ins and outs of a car. you listened as intently as you could, unable to pry your eyes from his moving lips or his darting eyes. you hadn’t realized how much of a hand talker he was until then and you found it endearing. he seemed to notice your staring and blushed, cutting himself off mid sentence.

“what? is there something on my face?” he asked and you chuckled at the way his fingers immediately rose to touch his cheeks.

“no,” you laughed out as you shook your head. “you just look really good in this lighting.” and you were absolutely correct. the rays of the moon, both direct and bouncing off the rippling lake to your right, perfectly lit the side of his face, accenting the shadows of his cheeks and jaw and the wave of his blonde hair. he was absolutely ethereal, but you couldn’t tell him that on the first date.

he let out a sigh of relief and dropped his hands, a shy smile playing on his chapped lips as he glanced in every direction but yours. you could see the faint pink forming under the freckles on his cheeks and the open chest visible from the top two buttons he’d left unbuttoned on his (worn and wrinkled) dress shirt.

“you had me scared for a second,” he uttered, clearing his throat. “you work too, right? tell me about your job.”

and so you did, letting yourself ramble about the drama within your workplace at tom’s rhinoplasty. he watched you just as intently as you’d watched him, focused on the vigorous nodding and shaking of your head and the way you talked with your entire body. every word had a gesture, either your hands flinging to the side or your legs changing position ever so slightly. he could see the acne scars on your chin and the middle of your forehead and the scar just slightly below your bottom lip, your skin and hair glowing in the night light. he swore in that moment you had to be an angel sent from heaven.

you ended your small rant with a breathy chuckle, a breathtaking smile giving way to crooked teeth and dimples in your chin and smile lines. you noticed the twinkle in his eyes and the crease of his forehead from the way his eyebrows were raised. his grin leaned more on the goofy side, wide and adoring, his head tilted slightly to the side.

“i could listen to you talk for hours, y/n,” he breathed, and you could feel the nauseous butterflies swarming in your throat and stomach. if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought you might throw up, but the sheer embarrassment of throwing up on the first date helped you keep it together.

“you’re such a charmer, ken.” he tossed his head back in laughter, his foot slightly brushing yours as his body turned to the left. you let your legs lay flat, his contagious laughter spreading to you. within seconds, the two of you were laughing uncontrollably over nothing, your body held up only by your left hand as the other clutched your side. kenny was already flat on his back, one leg in the air and the other bent with his knee facing the sky.

the laughter died within a minute of it starting, your eyes meeting as a few aftershock laughs echoed in the air. your shadow hung over his face, his hand reaching towards your face with a hesitant pause just before he touched your skin. a part of him was screaming that he was moving too fast, and the other part of him reminded him that he’d been waiting nearly a decade to touch you as a love interest rather than an acquaintance.

his heart flipped behind his ribs as his fingertips brushed your jaw. he knew he was probably entirely red at this point, with your own hand cupping the side of his face and your eyes creased with a loving smile. the urge to kiss you was so strong it was nearly suffocating him, his palm curled loosely around the back of your neck. you inched closer and his breath came shorter, nearly hyperventilating by the time you touched your mouth softly to his.

the kiss lasted a lot longer than he was expecting, your lips moving slowly against his as his other hand fell to your shoulder blade. he wanted to chase your lips when you pulled away, but he instead let his head fall against the metal under his body with a dull clunk, a dazed smile lighting up his eyes.

“i hope i wasn’t too forward,” you mumbled, a bit embarrassed in the wake of your previous action. he chuckled and pulled you down for a small peck, crow’s feet forming as his smile widened.

“believe me sweetheart, i’ve been waiting ages,” he breathed in response, tugging you down to lay at his side. your head rested against his collarbone, the thunder of his heartbeat nearly drowning your own speeding pulse out.

when you got home, curled beneath your duvet, you couldn’t resist touching your tingling lips, a lovesick giggle bubbling in your throat. kenny mccormick was quite the flirt, wasn’t he?

#kenny mccormick x reader #south park

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angelsworks · 1 year

Text

Edward Cullen x Music lover! Reader

Headcannon

You and Edward have colliding tastes of music

You didn’t think you’d meet someone as enthusiastic about music as you. Music was your life. It was around you growing up, it was around you while you drove, while you did homework, even while you showered. There was not a moment you could remember that wasn’t involving some form of music.

It was part of what drew Edward to you. From the way music would flow from your headphones, to your very being.

Songs you’d heard heard years ago to songs you’d heard that morning would buzz around your head in one long playlist. It was like Edwards own personal radio.

Granted the music taste was very different to his own.

Where he preferred instruments like violin, cello, piano or the occasional bit of brass, you preferred everything other.

Classical music didn’t make you feel as much as something fast and loud, something that made you want to move, not sleep.

Eventually when you start talking more he’ll bring it up, his own favourites to listen to. While you do politely agree, inside your head he can hear you thinking his taste does not match your own.

It won’t ever be something you fall out about of course. You have your tastes and he has his. That doesn’t mean the other won’t secretly try and convert them.

Edward will fill his car with classical music and invite you on a long car drive, or offer to pick you up. Successfully trapping you with him for an unfortunate amount of time.

You might hand him a headphone from time to time, complimenting a certain moment in the song your listening to.

He gives it a try. Over his long life he’s come across such music before.

As you get closer he’ll dust off old CDs that correspond to your taste of music and put them to the front of his pile.

He’ll invite you to his house to show you his sound system, while strategically placing said CDs in eyeshot.

You might bring it up, to which he’ll try to be as casual as possible. Suggesting after all your pestering he decided to try them.

The smile that grows on your face as you dive into a history of the band and your favourite from them, is worth every minute he spent listening to the albums beforehand.

Of course his family teases him for it. Their super hearing can definitely hear him humming along to your favourite songs, trying to memorise them.

Bonus:

If you two ever do end up arguing or being not on speaking terms, you can be sure damaging his radio is involved. Whether it’s putting your favourites in his car and hiding the rest, or putting an album you know he hates is then supergluing the slot closed.

The idea totally did not come from Emmet. And his keys didn’t come from Alice.

#twilight oneshot #twilight #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #headcannons #twilight headcanon #twilight imagine

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beautifulpersonpeach · 3 months

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I’m relatively new to the fandom and have really enjoyed a lot of your posts… I have a question that I couldn’t quickly find an answer to in searching through your tags…

What’s the deal with streaming? Like, I listen to BTS. I enjoy them a lot, I listen to a pretty even mix of all their albums though I probably like MOTS:7 era the best). Some days I listen to them like all day lol (if I’m cleaning the house or something) and I listen to them a lot in the car or while working. I’ve enjoyed some solo releases more than others so I naturally streamed those more. but like the more I start following accounts on here and on army twt the more confused I get about the intense pressure to stream constantly? I’ve heard that people play certain songs (or albums I guess?) on repeat on mute and/or have dedicated streaming devices they keep going all the time.

Not to be negative or rude at all but like…what? Maybe because I’m new to KPop and have never followed it until BTS but that just sounds so weird and… idk the word, maybe disingenuous? Again I do not mean this as an attack I am just genuinely confused. Wouldn’t BTS themselves want us only to listen if we were actually enjoying it and not out of some competitive attempt to get better ratings? It feels so odd to me, like that is not how I would behave with any other artist that I love. I would only ever listen to them out of a genuine desire to hear their music. But there seems to be so much weird shaming out there for when/if songs are not streamed heavily enough? And for any other artist I would just write that off as a difference in taste among the fandom, but here it’s treated like a personal wrong against the artist…?

But as I say that I’m sure there’s more to it… I have definitely seen people talking about payola or chart manipulation so idk. If I should google this instead, just tell me to, I just have already tried and didn’t find that much clarity, just a bunch of people on quora and Reddit talking about certain songs not getting streamed enough.

Anyways this is super long, sorry if it annoys you. Just thought you seemed knowledgeable and levelheaded enough to ask? Love your posts. All the best.

Ask 2:

Okay wait I’m the anon that just asked about streaming and I went and re-read your post about “inorganic success” — I had read it before but somehow I didn’t put together that the 24-7 streaming is an attempt to combat payola or like go up against it I guess. Okay. That makes more sense. I still feel like there’s a weird focus on charting but I guess if it’s about getting more concert venues and more radio play it makes sense.

You can ignore my last ask then I’m sorry if I’m being dense or something lol.

***

You haven’t at all asked a stupid question. Your confusion is easily explained by you being new to k-pop, and everyone new to this madhouse asks this question eventually. I’ve talked about this before, but can’t find the post for the life of me so I’ll briefly go over it again.

First, you need to understand what k-pop is. K-pop is a system that gamifies music consumption. Competition is something you’ll see in the music industry regardless. Western stans such as Arianators, Barbz, and the Beyhive have organized around streaming goals and efforts for at least 10 years now. But there’s no other music industry that explicitly emphasizes competition among groups and fans, the way the k-pop industry does.

Competition is baked into its DNA:

From the idol training system under agencies with supposed specialities that are treated like warring houses a la Game of Thrones (a mentality created by the Big 3),

to the music shows where fans are encouraged to vote daily and weekly for the best artists and where wins are tied to streaming numbers,

to the highly publicized year-end award show criteria that outline key metrics for wins in streams, sales, and fan votes.

Basically, the k-pop industry creates a clear hierarchy of talent and acclaim for artists in their system, directly stokes fan participation in buying into that hierarchy, and the numbers are the easiest litmus test/short cut to settle the question of who is at the top.

And all of this is served with a cocktail of parasocial delusion and entitlement that has (more easily manipulated) fans thinking their perceived investment into their faves, earns them the right to micromanage their fave idols’ careers. All of this benefits the labels and industry because they’d rather have you more engaged (even if toxically), than not.

Everybody here buys into this system despite what they’ll tell you, some just manage to keep their wits and perspective to prevent getting sucked in, while others fall headfirst into it.

And so, like I said in my ‘inorganic success’ post you referenced, the focus on streaming is part of fans really just playing the game. Excess is something you’ll see on the charts in any case, whether in k-pop or in the West.

The difference with BTS and ARMYs however, is in the why of how the fandom streams. Essentially, you’re more likely to find people just as passionate about the music itself as they are about giving that music its due in hard numbers and consequently, recognition. You’re more likely to find fans like this in the ARMY fandom, than any other, in my opinion. Some people forget that the og ARMYs were k-pop fans first. They were fans who intimately understood how this system worked, they understood why the Big3 maintained dominance in k-pop for literal decades, and they saw the worth in the music BTS made, loved it enough to invest time into the playing the game better than anyone else at the time - pushing BTS from nugu status to where they are now, competing well outside the realm of the k-pop system but in a space that remains complex and highly competitive.

Another aspect that differentiates how ARMYs stream vs other k-pop fandoms, is that due to the sheer size of the fandom in absolute numbers, the average ARMY typically streams less than a typical k-pop stan. Basically, in other fandoms the typical stan has to stream more per person to have even a fraction of the gains seen in the ARMY fandom. ARMYs also aren’t doing anything other fandoms aren’t doing, it’s just that so far, they’re more efficient at it and don’t have to worry too much because BTS makes music that keeps attracting more fans, adding to the size of the fandom. They’ve also generally stayed away from more illegal methods given the intense scrutiny and animosity the fandom has faced for being part of the reason BTS upended the ordained hierarchy in this space. It sounds silly but it’s true.

But that’s only one side of the story. The other side is that in the fandom, everybody here really just does what they want. And many people genuinely enjoy listening to BTS that much and that intensely. Going by personal experience in what I observed before I became ARMY, I noticed that many ARMYs are Type A and organized - people who like and study data. The first time in my life that I saw someone create a spreadsheet for fan theories on a k-pop MV, was when an ARMY made one for I NEED U MV. I’m not sure what it is about BTS, but from the beginning they’ve attracted the sort of fans who genuinely enjoy listening to music often, people who enjoy creating and playing around with playlists, and people who track and measure applicable data. So your assumption that the people who stream like this are people who don’t actually enjoy the music, is wrong. In my opinion. For a lot of ARMYs, streaming and appreciating the music isn’t mutually exclusive.

Personally, I listen to music a lot. And I’ve always been that way, so when I became ARMY, I just sort of naturally fit into that culture. The sort of music BTS makes is a joy to listen to, I play their stuff literally everyday and it feels like the most normal thing in the world for me to sleep to Serendipity sometimes (in my sleep playlist which includes brown noise and rain sounds), or to do laundry to Let Me Know playing, or to drive to UGH and Set Me Free Pt 2 playing. I have multiple accounts because I listen to all kinds of music all the time, and it’s just convenient for me to have things set up such that I can flip on a playlist in every situation I’d want one on.

But like I said, the reality is that everyone in this fandom does what they want. It’s true there are certain people in the fandom who obsess over streaming, these are typically chartmys and akgaes, but most other people stream however they like. Fandom in general is a pressure cooker environment so I don’t blame you for noticing that pressure, but at the end of the day you really should just do what makes the most sense to you.

ARMYs generally recognize the reality of the space they are in, they recognize what it means for BTS, and most simply tweak their normal listening habits to maximize the gain and support to BTS. Plus sometimes it’s fun to play into fandom’s initiatives as a way to connect with other fans (such as in streaming parties).

I ended up rambling but let me know if this answered your question.

#BTS #BTS army #bts fandom #kpop fandom #kpop industry #fandom behaviour #streaming

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