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morningberriesao3 · 3 months

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As Sneaky Link comes to an end, it just means that I’ll get to work on some other fun projects that have been in my drafts for (literally) a year and a half.

The next multi chapter I’m working on is set back in the 80s. Only this time, it’s not Steve who spirals about his sexuality.

Eddie is straight—he’s just never met the right girl to feel that spark. But Steve over the last years has had a secret that he’s told no one. Not even Robin.

Until Eddie walks in on him in a very compromising position. With another man.

I started this fic as something we hardly see in the Steddie fandom—and that’s Steve being the certified queer, and Eddie having a full blown crisis as he figures himself out.

As promised, below the cut is the first 2.4K words of chapter 1, and in February it’ll be posted in its entirety on my ao3: morningberries

Enjoy 🥹

It was a chilly day in early September—the wind carrying half-brown leaves through the air in swirling patterns that looked like mini tornados. Eddie stared at them from his trailer’s living room window as Wayne’s truck disappeared beyond the bend in the road.

Another weekend alone as his uncle worked a double shift.

It’s not that Eddie didn’t have friends. There was Gareth and Jeff and Grant—the members from his beloved band Corroded Coffin—but he knew Jeff was on vacation with his parents before college started and Grant was working with his dad in the garage on that ’69 Mustang they picked up from the scrapyard over the summer. Gareth, although in Hawkins, had landed himself a hot new girlfriend and spent every waking moment with her.

Eddie couldn’t really blame him, even though he didn’t really get it.

It had been the same thing his whole life, if he was being honest with himself. Since middle school, he’d watch his friends start dating whatever chick they had a crush on, listen to them start yammering about how gorgeous she was or how cool or how smart. How she made them get butterflies in their stomachs, whatever the fuck that meant.

Yeah, cool.

Eddie had dated girls—some pretty cute ones at that. There was Sam, who he dated his second senior year, and they’d gotten along really well. She was what Eddie thought should probably be his type—dark hair, a lip ring, wore lipstick in blacks and unearthly blues. She was even in Hellfire Club and honestly kicked ass at it. Objectively, on paper, she was everything he wanted.

Except he didn’t feel it. Whatever it was. The fucking butterflies, or whatever.

When they broke up, it hadn’t really been the end of the world. He mourned their friendship more than the sexual aspect of their relationship, because Sam had been awesome to hang out with and smoke with and laugh with.

Gareth hadn’t believed Eddie when he said he was fine—took a solid 4 months before Gare actually accepted that Eddie’s heart wasn’t shattered.

Eddie cared more about… God, like, anything but dating. Like D&D, and his friends, and his guitar, and Metallica’s newest album, and making his fucking bed in the morning, and even his therapist. He knew it didn’t really help him look normal to be a twenty-year-old man who couldn’t care less about pursuing girls, but whatever. He was King Freak, after all.

When he met Chrissy six months ago, he thought for a moment that he might be able to convince himself to have a crush on her. It should be easy; a small, thin, blonde, pretty cheerleader is everyone’s type. Maybe he’d just been chasing after the wrong girls. But what he felt on the drive to his trailer with Chrissy in his front seat, as she timidly told him she thought he was kind and funny, was, again… not the fireworks he expected from all the stories of love at first sight.

And then she’d died, which vastly overshadowed Eddie’s worry that there might be something wrong with him for not developing feelings. He talked about both things in his weekly government mandated therapy sessions. But mostly about her death.

The doctor had told Eddie it wasn’t uncommon to have an aversion to romantic or sexual relationships after experiencing trauma. Eddie didn’t really bother to elaborate that it had started long before said trauma. But whatever.

He digressed.

Gareth had a girlfriend, and they spent their time making out and—apparently now—doing hands and mouth stuff. At least, that’s what Gareth had been bragging about at their last band practice. And, according to him, they were probably going to fuck on this weekend that Eddie was once again alone, so calling Gareth was completely off the table.

He sighed, standing from his uncle’s withered brown couch to walk the ten steps to his bedroom. He plucked his guitar from her hook on the wall, strummed a few chords without bothering to plug her in. If he was really going to talk about trauma responses and aversions, he might as well start with the one he developed for playing his guitar after the epic battle in the Upside Down.

Since the day he nearly bled out on the gravel outside of his trailer (that wasn’t really his trailer, because apparently alternate dimensions are, like, actually a thing), he hadn’t really been able to play anymore. It wasn’t some dramatic thing, like getting wild flashbacks of battling massive fucking hell-bats, or getting feasted on by their fang-filled mouths, or Dustin crying over him, or what if felt like when he literally died for four minutes before he was defibrillated. It was just this soft, but uncomfortable, feeling in his stomach, accompanied by massive brain fog, and a general lack of motivation to learn anything new.

He hung the guitar back where it belonged, in front of his mirror. The reflection that looked back at him looked… well, goddamn bored, for one. And a little anxious. And like he should probably try to reach out to some of his other friends.

There had been some silver linings to the whole everything-he’s-ever-known-about-the-world-has-been-a-lie thing. He did, now, have other friends. Dustin, for one, would hang out with him on days that weren’t D&D related. Although, Eddie was sure that a lot of that was because he had a working vehicle that could tow him around to the arcade, or the diner (where Eddie paid for Dustin’s meals, obviously), or the video store.

Eddie didn’t mind crashing Family Video, because more often than not, it meant he could visit his new age-appropriate friend.

Robin and Eddie had become attached at the hip, honestly. Best friends. Trauma bonded, or something. Or maybe it had more to do with the fact that they were both losers, and somehow both smart and dumb at the same time. They also both talked a lot, and got excited over weird shit, and liked to rag on Dustin. So Eddie really took a liking to Robin.

And here was something that he’d been thinking about for the last few weeks.

Maybe he had a crush on her? It didn’t really sound right, but he did get excited when he got to see her, and his heartrate sometimes sped up when he went to family video and he first laid eyes on her talking to Steve, and maybe there was also a tinge of jealousy that settled in the pit of his stomach when he thought of how close they were. That had to mean something—meant something more than anything else he’d ever felt before.

He knew if Steve and Robin were going to get together, it more than likely would have already happened. But the thought still nagged on him a bit. He wouldn’t like it, and he couldn’t really put his finger on why. Having a crush on Robin was the only feasible explanation, really.

It was either that, or perhaps it was because Eddie was convinced that Steve hated him for some unknown reason.

Eddie tried to become friends with Steve during the aftermath of the Upside Down, and for a while it seemed like it was working. It seemed like Steve actually enjoyed Eddie’s company.

They’d hang out first with Rob, or Dustin. And then just by themselves. Steve even came to smoke up at the trailer once or twice, ended up crashing on Eddie’s couch. Steve used to smile at him, and nudge him in the shoulders like they were sharing some inside joke, or sling his arm around Eddie casually like they’d known each other for ages.

It always made Eddie feel like he was buzzing, like there was some sort of weight in his chest that spasmed and choked him. His therapist had said that it was probably some sort of satiation for his inner child, finally being accepted by someone who was deemed popular. Eddie hadn’t ever thought he cared about shit like that, but the subconscious was a mysterious place, he was coming to learn. Definitely explained the attachment he felt for Steve those first few months out of the hospital; the absolute giddiness he felt when they got to hang out.

But that was at the beginning. The start of July was when Eddie noticed Steve acting different towards him. Avoiding touch, and then eye contact, and then Eddie’s calls, and finally, just Eddie altogether.

The pit Eddie had felt in his stomach from losing Steve’s affection had been awful. He really thought they were becoming close, really thought it was the start of something. A really great friendship.

But Steve peaced out as quickly as he bonded with Eddie, apparently deciding now that they were back in the real world, they couldn’t really mingle anymore.

The bond they formed in the Upside Down was acceptable when they were actively monster hunting, but Eddie supposed now that things had somewhat calmed, reality started to crash into focus. Steve was still a jock; Eddie was still a freak. Therefore, no more sitting across from each other at Benny’s Diner.

That was Eddie’s theory, at least. When he’d ask Robin about it, she’d just shrugged her shoulders and said, “He hasn’t spoken badly about you. Like, at all. Seems like he likes you to me.”

Then, as if to prove his point, Steve would go all red when Eddie would stop by his work and go hide in the back room until the kids picked whatever Sci-Fi movie and piled back in Eddie’s van.

Whatever. It didn’t matter.

Eddie survived sans Steve before the Upside Down, he’d survive without him now.

He picked up the phone and dialed Robin’s number.

“Hello?”

“Rob,” Eddie greeted, a smile already forming on his face from hearing her raspy voice. “What are you up to?”

He could hear a snort from the other end of the line. He knew she was rolling her eyes. “On a Friday afternoon at five PM? Absolutely nothing, of course.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

“Did it sound like sarcasm?”

“I’ll be honest with you,” he said, tucking the phone against his shoulder as he poured himself a mug of old drip coffee from this morning, “it very much did.”

“You’re getting better at social cues!” she mockingly praised.

“Watch it, Bucky. Don’t get too comfortable hiding behind that phone.”

“You’ll forget before the next time we see each other. I’m not too worried.”

Eddie sighed for what felt like the hundredth time since his uncle left the trailer. “Does that mean you can’t hang?”

The line crackled as Robin moved through her living room. Eddie could imagine her flopping on the couch, getting comfortable, her green phone glued to her ear with a big bowl of popcorn settled in her lap. “Noooott necessarily,” she drawled out. “Although, I know you’re not exactly fond of parties.”

Eddie furrowed his brow as he slid his mug onto the new microwave’s glass plate. He’d gotten it for Wayne’s birthday with some of the hush money the government had… well, hushed him with. Eddie had promised to keep his lips sealed when they flashed him the size of the cheque. Not like he had many people to tell, anyway.

“You’re going to a party?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding surprised. “Steve’s party? For his twentieth?”

Eddie’s stomach dropped. “Steve’s having a party for his birthday?”

As far as he’d known, Steve said he was doing a quiet thing with his parents and his aunt that he didn’t even want to attend, and that was that. He’d just shrugged when Eddie pressed about celebrating with his friends, muttering something about it feeling weird to celebrate after everything that went down earlier in the year.

Which had been fair enough.

But now it was abundantly clear that Steve had been lying to Eddie. To keep him away.

“Uh, of course he is, Doofus. He told me you said you couldn’t come?”

Eddie, for some wild reason, felt his eyes pricking with tears. Out of anger or betrayal or confusion, he wasn’t really sure. It was dumb; he was tough, and he didn’t cry when jocks hated him ever before. So he swallowed them back down.

“Guess my plans changed,” he said, venom seeping into his tone. Fuck Steve and his master plan to keep Eddie from attending his dumb house party. “I’m coming.”

It seemed that Robin was totally oblivious to his anger as she squealed excitedly from the other end of the line. “Yay! Will you come pick me up then? It would be so much cooler to show up with a friend than have my mom drop me off in front of all the former popular kids of Hawkins High.”

“Why do you care about that shit?” Eddie asked, even though he knew it was hypocritical of him.

“Look, I know you’re totally unaffected by the social hierarchy, Eddie, but I’m unashamed to admit that it’ll feel kind of amazing to debut myself as Steve’s best friend, you know? And I’d rather do it in your shitty van than have my mother yelling that she loves me from the open window of her Honda Civic.”

“Don’t call ol’ Heffer shitty,” Eddie sulked. “It’s not good to bite the hand that feeds you. Or something like that.”

Eddie ignored that it didn’t feel great when Robin said she was Steve’s best friend. That heavy shadow of jealousy weighed down on him. He was unclear whether it was because he was jealous of Steve or Robin.

“Whatever,” Robin said, her voice laced with yet another eyeroll. “Pick me up at seven-thirty?”

Eddie nodded, his face still pulled into a scowl. When he realised Robin couldn’t see him, he shook his muddled brain and mumbled, “Uh—yeah. Seven-thirty. See you then.”

“Cool. See you soon, Doofus,” Robin sang. And then the line went dead.

#steddie fic #steddie #eddie munson #eddie x steve #steve harrington #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #steddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #sneaky link ao3 #morningberriesao3 #morningberries #steve and eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington

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viburnt · 3 months

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Could I ask stalker! Izuku following his before girlfriend? Not knowing she can match his unhinged behavior. (Similar like Yuta/Rika)

Content warning: Stalking, invasion of privacy, mentions of nudity, public indecency, NSFW, unhinged behavior, vomit, stealing

Stalker! Izuku and his equally unhinged GF

Stalker! Izuku that fell in love- no, more like became obsessed- with you after the first time you talked to him. You were just so kind and nice to him, no one had treated him like that before! That meant you liked him, right? That meant you were his, his, his, only his-

Stalker! Izuku whose behavior is easily disguised under the flag of friendliness, following you to every single place and asking about you at every chance because he was just making sure you were doing alright.

Stalker! Izuku that feels so enraged whenever another person talks to you, woman or man. Sometimes his reactions getting so out of hand he ends up digging his nails on his skin, drawing blood. That's fine though, it doesn't matter, because he can then show you the marks of how much he loves you!

Stalker! Izuku that can't help but puke after you speak to him, his anxiety and nervousness making his stomach churn. He doesn't want to mess up, and is very embarrassed about his wobbly legs and trembling lips.

Stalker! Izuku that goes the extra mile to ensure you're safe out there, snapping pictures of you to put them in his wallet. You don't mind that some of the pictures are nude, right? It's for his eyes only after all. He is just protecting you from others...

Stalker! Izuku that doesn't notice the way his very own childhood bully recoils when you're nearby, unaware of the fear that seeps from Bakugo when you look at him with a stern cold gaze.

Stalker! Izuku that is oblivious of your little investigation techniques. He doesn't think you're capable of such thing, but you're as crazy as he can be, writing down every detail of his personal life.

Stalker! Izuku that feels that, in blissful ignorance, doesn't know you have a hoodie of his you sleep with... It's not sleeping what you do.

Stalker! Izuku that almost cums on spot the first time he hears you blatantly moaning his name from inside your room, knowing damn well he was listening.

Stalker! Izuku that's an underwear thief but still has the guts to claim only perverts do that. But he's not a pervert, right? Because you love him too, and he can do it!

"Is- Is that a picture of me in your phone?" Izuku asks with a flustered gaze, his finger gingerly pointing at your screen. Yes, it was a picture of him, your favorite one even.

A sly smile painted your lips. "I think you look cute on it, hope you don't mind!" You answer so naturally, making it look as something cute and pure. Izuku almost wants to tell you he has a full album dedicated to you, but maybe he can show it to you later on.

Tag list: @shonen-brainrot @imaginationmess @trickster-kat @doumadono @i-literally-cant-with-this @shionancientsblog

#my hero academia #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #Stalker! Izuku

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girlreviews · 3 months

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Review #146: Parallel Lines, Blondie

Man oh man oh man. I love Blondie so much. I found this record in the Windsor Oxfam. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I remember what boyfriend was with me so that puts me between 15 and 18. Yeah, same guy. I actually don’t remember if he ended up getting his hands on this record or not. I think I still have it. Will rifle through my collection later to check.

Blondie was in the “being cool” wilderness for some absolutely crazy reason at that point, and nobody really gave a shit about them anymore. When I was 17 or 18 they were playing the Reading Hexagon which is honestly still just such an unbelievable insult I’m still annoyed about it. I’ll circle back to that.

Parallel Lines epitomizes the complete and total coolness and badassery of Debbie Harry. I have never wanted to be someone more than I wanted to be her. So much confidence. Such incredible cheekbones. Such commitment to art. No apologies. The voice of an angel one moment and snarling whimsical warnings, like, hey you, don’t fuck with me, the next. Always standing in front of all of those completely non-descript nobody dudes. Yeah they’re playing the music, but who cares, who are they? It’s all her. She is Blondie.

Can I pick a favorite? It opens with Hanging on the Telephone, in which she is really threatening to rip the phone clean off the wall. It might be that one. But we’ve also got the classic One Way Or Another, which needs no comment, and one of my actual favorites of all time, Heart of Glass which never fails to fuck me up, but like, it’s a god damn disco track? Like sure, yeah, let’s boogie away our heart break. And I did. And I have. And I will. And these are all SINGLES. We aren’t even discussing the actual album tracks yet. Just listen to it. Honorable mention goes to Sunday Girl, which I always really loved. It’s cute and it’s kind of sweet in a very teenage girl kind of way that worked for me since I was in fact, a teenage girl. Also, not on the official album release, but there was a version of that track where the latter half was sung entirely in French and I always really dug it.

Okay so circling back to the Hexagon. This is a weird story and I’m still not sure how I feel about it, to this day. As I said, Blondie were playing a show at the Hexagon. I was absolutely obsessed with them, and Debbie Harry. I was also 17 or 18 and spent every penny I had on going to shows, but those pennies were pretty limited. I worked as a waitress at the pub that was two doors down from my house. It was full of characters. One such character was a regular, he was in his late 40s, was very wealthy, didn’t drive, was single, and spent literally every bit of his spare time in that pub. Think on that. He paid a lot of attention to the various young women that worked there. Was he creepy? No not exactly. But did it make you uncomfortable? Yes it did. Because you never knew when he might make it weird. Everyone liked him well enough. One day out of the blue this guy presented me with five tickets to the Blondie show. I didn’t know what in the hell to say or whether to accept them. Or what it meant. Whether there were expectations attached to them. Whether it was okay to take them. I was uncomfortable. I was 17.

Here’s what happened. My Mom, who sort of knew him too, since he was always there, decided it was fine, because she wanted to go. But for it to be okay, she decided he also had to come. So we went, he came, and a few friends too. The thing is though, she never knew him like I did. I saw him every day. I saw him with the other girls that worked at the pub. I saw him drunk off his ass. I don’t know that I ever would have taken the tickets. Or if I did, I’m not sure I ever would have invited him. I feel a bit queasy about it to this day. I think in the end something really off-base happened one night between him and someone on staff and he got barred. That was usually the way it went with regulars who were there that often.

The other thing to note is that Blondie ended because Debbie Harry was with Chris Stein, who was literally dying of some rare autoimmune disease throughout their last tour. There were other factors at play, but essentially, they broke up because he was too sick and she stayed at his side and became his full-time carer. When he was well, he left her. They are, remarkably, still close friends to this day and still perform together. Just never forget that men are dogs, and that Blondie is and always will be Debbie Harry. I love her. To this day she looks better than I do in a mini skirt and I love that for her.

ETA: I checked and in fact, I do not still have Parallel Lines in my record collection, but I am quite confident it got lost when I moved back to the US. Also, I’m not 100% certain that show was at the Reading Hexagon. I just know it was a shitty venue not worthy of Blondie. This was 18 years ago. You get the idea.

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #blondie #parallel lines #debbie harry

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mandu-17 · 7 months

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Need a little something | Jeon Soyeon x fem! reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: 1) Can I request a g!p top yuqi or soyeon fic? Any scenario you want ofc

2) Are your request still open? No pressure if they aren't but if they are can you make a soyeon smut fanfic?

Warnings: G!P Soyeon, blowjob, cursing

Genre: Smut, Soft Dom!Soyeon

Wordcount: ~ 2,926

A/N: i think i love this one

“Unnie, you’re scaring me.”

With a frown Shuhua watched as her leader, Jeon Soyeon had a full blown breakdown. She’d never seen the other member like that, even when their own company was being ridiculous or awful to them it was always Soyeon who kept their spirits up.

And now, in her little studio Soyeon had her face hidden in her hands, as she was sitting behind the desk. Maknae bit her lip, while analyzing the music program that was turned on on Soyeon’s computer. As expected, she was already working on (G)I-DLE’s new album even though they had barely finished previous promotions.

“It’s just not it.”

Shuhua sighed after hearing the exact same sentence for another time. A little part of her was relieved that the leader wasn’t mad at any of her struggles in the studio booth this time, yet still she hated the fact that Soyeon had to suffer so much for being a perfectionist.

“Something’s missing. I was sure I had it all planned out in my head but something’s still not clicking in here.” Soyeon pointed to the screen.

Shuhua sneakily pulled her phone out of the pocket and messaged for the other members to help with comforting Soyeon. A brainstorm is always a good idea.

“Maybe we should add a different harmony!”

“No.”

“Write some more rap?”

“No.”

“Let’s have Yuqi have all the lines?”

„Never!” Soyeon giggled, while turning in her office chair. Her eyes met Shuhua’s briefly, as she began swinging from side to side. It was a small success.

“JEON SOYEON!”

A loud voice caused both of them to turn their heads to see Yuqi entering the room with Miyeon and Minnie walking closely behind. Chinese tried to hug leader’s head, but she was only met with a playful slap. Meanwhile Puppy Sisters sat down next to Shuhua on the couch.

“A little bird told us you’re being dramatic.”

“Yah, Yuqi! Have some manners.” Miyeon scolded the main dancer, she felt sorry for Soyeon. She was aware how incredibly important music and creating was to the middle member.

“It’s just not it. I don’t know what else to tell you. I’ve been working on it for the past three days, but I just can’t come up with that special little something.”

Soyeon explained with her hands dropping hopelessly.

“Let us hear it though.” Minnie chimed in, a bag of hazelnuts already in her fingers as Shuhua tried to steal some of it. “We’ll see together.”

After seeing encouraging nods from the rest of the group, Soyeon turned to the computer again and pressed space bar. Then she watched the girls for their reactions.

“It’s so cool, unnie.” Yuqi started dancing almost immediately, she even had few ideas for the choreography.

“Ooh I love this part!” Miyeon pointed out while Minnie and Shuhua were also just happily vibing to the song and lip syncing most of it.

Soyeon paused it suddenly.

“I’m not saying it’s bad! It’s just not what I want. I still have to work on it.”

Four groans were heard.

“I think it’s going to be a hit.” Yuqi’s wide eyes turned to Soyeon felt almost like an attack with how intense she was looking at her. “I’m serious!”

Leader only shook her head slightly.

“No, if Y/N was here to say it, Soyeon unnie would agree.” Shuhua chuckled causing the fuss all over the room.

With that loud laugh of hers Miyeon nodded at her words immediately, Yuqi whined feeling unappreciated and Minnie was just dying out of laughter on the couch - her fondness for maknae raising automatically. In the middle of it all, Soyeon was trying to protest and disagree, but no one was listening anyways. That’s when Miyeon thought of an idea.

“What if she came over?”

“Should we call her?” Shuhua quickly joined in, she liked you a lot.

“Guys, it’s not her problem though.” The leader wasn’t against your company - heck, she’d do anything to have her beautiful girlfriend around more but she just didn’t feel comfortable with having you there while she was working. It was her work after all, she’d hate to bother you.

“Let Y/N save the day. Call her, Soyeonie.” Minnie smiled softly at Soyeon. Thai had known her leader for so long and it really seemed like only you could make a difference.

Short girl rolled her eyes playfully but obeyed nonetheless and dialed your number in no time. Everyone present leaned in and with big eyes they were all expecting to hear your voice soon.

“Baby?” You answered sweetly.

Soyeon’s eyes widened, she could feel a hot, deep blush spreading on her face.

For the second time, the room filled with laughter. It was a pure chaos.

“Hey, Y/N. You’re on speaker and the members are here too.” Soyeon quickly said, her left hand covering half of her face, as she still felt embarrassed.

“Oh...” It was clear you also felt uneasy about the situation although moment later you just laughed it off and used your sweet tone again. “Hi everyone.”

The members took turns saying ‘hi’ to you, then Shuhua took the initiative, “Unnie, are you busy now?”

“Not really, why?”

They all looked at Soyeon as if they wanted to prove that you were literally one call away when she needed you.

“You should come over! Soyeon-ah is a mess without you.” Yuqi laughed causing Miyeon to slap her arm.

“Yah, Yuqi stop with that.” Soyeon whined, her foot weakly kicking up not even touching Chinese’s leg.

“No, but seriously can you come over? Soyeon is stressing over this new song, but she’s not listening to us. If you don’t have anything better to do then I’m sure we could all use your company.” Minnie suggested, Shuhua nodded at her words as if you could see it.

“Sure, I’ll be there in 20 minutes. I just have to hang the laundry.”

“Omo, perfect!” You felt something warm feeling your tummy after listening to all of their happy reactions. You sometimes couldn’t believe they liked you so much.

“Okay, we’ll be waiting in my studio. Fourth floor.” Soyeon finally spoke up, gentle smile grazing her face. Even her sudden producing block couldn’t stop her from smiling at you.

“Okie, see you soon!”

Once the call ended all (G)-IDLE’s members exchanged looks before bursting out laughing. Soyeon’s poor couch kept on getting hit by the girls.

“So where’s my patient?”

Was the first thing you said after opening the door.

All the girls cheered up loudly even though you’d barely entered. Soyeon’s sharp eyes found yours right away, she felt her heart skip a beat. Your smile lit up the whole room.

“Hi, how are you all?” You asked the members kindly.

“Good and you?”

“Great, thank you.”

“Listen, unnie if you won’t do anything about her I’m gonna-” Shuhua stopped midway in order to dramatically pull at her hair.

“Jump out the window.” Yuqi finished for maknae perfectly though.

You tilted your head curiously and finally stepped towards Soyeon, who was still sitting on the office chair. Frankly speaking, it seemed to her that she was trapped there. Allowed to leave the studio only once this certain song is finished.

“What’s wrong Soyeon-ah?” With your hands resting on chair backrest, you leaned in to the screen watching the music program fascinated. Even though you weren’t exactly sure what you were looking at you felt glad to just be there. You’d admired Jeon Soyeon since you could remember. Her ideas, visions and these genius observations of the world around her. Even before the two of you met and started dating she never failed to amaze you. You used to watch her on tv and now the fact that you could be introduced to some people as her girlfriend made your chest fill with pride every single time.

“Just listen to this part.” Defeated, Soyeon played the song.

She had to bite the inside of her cheek real hard in order to focus on your genuine reaction and not that sweet, familiar smell of you that hit her so closely. Few strands of your hair tickled the skin of her shoulder that was not covered by the black tank top she was wearing. Whenever your body this was near she felt both at ease and very excited.

“Woah! It’s so cool, I love it.” Soyeon looked up unconvinced, her eyebrows raised at you. She could almost feel your breaths fanning her face. “I can’t see the problem in here. I really can’t, baby.”

“See?! It’s a good song.” Minnie exclaimed, slowly getting tired of the situation. And especially since you arrived, she figured the four of them won’t be needed anymore.

“It’s empty. It’s missing something. I don’t know what it is yet but it just needs a little something to it.” Soyeon stayed stubborn.

“Ah I see... Issues of a perfectionist.” You teased your girlfriend, but only for a short second. You were far too scared of her small figure and what she was capable of.

Your comment made the members giggle and agree with you completely meanwhile Soyeon glared at you.

“How about you turn it off?” You suggested with a small shrug.

“What?” Leader frowned.

“What?” The rest of the group was also surprised about your idea.

“Right now you’re just suffering. In fact, everyone present in this room can feel your struggle and because you’re too focused on it now you can’t find the solution. So my advice would be to turn off this computer and just... try to relax for a bit. Then the idea will come to you naturally.”

The second you had said the word ‘relax’ in front of Soyeon in her work mode fully on, you wished to face palm yourself. The look on her face was priceless, as if you were an alien.

“Wait, what if it actually works?” Miyeon looked at others’ faces.

“It does make sense. I think we could give it a try.” Shuhua agreed with Miyeon, which was not an often moment.

“Soyeon-ah?” Yuqi searched for the leader’s opinion on it all.

“Turn it off and then what? How am I supposed to relax when I can’t even think straight.” She tried to brush the idea off, but luckily you could be stubborn as well.

“So you’re agreeing that it actually drives you insane? Then let’s just take a small break, Soyeon. Do you know what a break is?”

Shuhua’s mouth fell open when she heard your question. Most of the times, you were a very kind person, but once you got sarcastic it was incredibly entertaining to watch. Especially your ‘arguments’ with Soyeon were fun to watch, as they made the two of you sound like an old married couple.

“It is making me frustrated, but I have to finish it. There’s no way I’m taking a break now.”

“But that is the only way to finish it! You have to let your brain rest for at least a couple of minutes to have a fresh look on this. Then the missing part will come.” The members’ heads were turning from her to you like they were watching a tennis match. The ball was now on Soyeon’s side.

„No! I have to finish it first.”

“You need a break!” Minnie’s head fell on the couch backrest, she closed her eyes before mentally counting to three.

This didn’t go exactly as planned. Minnie simply thought that after arriving you’d tell Soyeon how great the song was and that Soyeon would drop the topic immediately. Everyone around their leader could see how important your opinions were to her. And how much she liked being complimented by you. Her lips used to create that coy yet satisfied smirk whenever you were gasping amazed.

None of the girls expected you and Soyeon to fight although they all knew that neither of you would ever hurt the other person. It was safe to leave you two alone. At least convincing Soyeon wasn’t their problem anymore.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Ye-”

“I’m leaving.” Thai stood up and with no look back left the studio.

Maknae was fast to follow her. Miyeon and Yuqi exchanged looks, the two of you hadn’t even noticed that someone was leaving, it seemed. The oldest shrugged and also left the room while pulling Yuqi with her by the shirt. Only once the door closed behind them you looked up to see no one there anymore.

“Oh.” You frowned cutely.

Soyeon shook her head with an amused smile before putting it in her hands as she did with Shuhua being the only one present before.

“What?” You asked when you heard a sudden fit of giggles leave Soyeon.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Y/N.” She rubbed her eyes and did something that shook you to the core.

She turned off the music program.

You were about to ask whether Soyeon was feeling okay when she was the one to speak first.

“Come here.” She opened her arms gesticulating for you to take a sit on her lap.

“Was it so damn hard?” With a bit of her help you made yourself comfortable. You hugged her by the neck making your heads bump together. Not too hard but just so that both of you could feel the other person’s presence. To Soyeon, it was a heartwarming gesture.

She shushed you, one of her hands caressing your hair slowly.

After all day in front of the computer, she had to redirect her senses. She wanted you to fill her space, to be the center of it. She’d make you the center of universe if she could.

“Baby?” You murmured enjoying the way her body was warming you up. She hummed in response, her eyelids falling close for a short, blissful moment. “I think I know what you need. I think I know the perfect way to make you relax.”

“You think so, Y/N?” Now she was wide awake, “I think you have to show me.”

Her hands gripped your hips in order to make you face her properly. You bit your lip at the way her nails dug into your skin through the material of your shirt. Hazy look in Soyeon’s eyes had you already anticipating her next moves, words.

“Will you be a good girl and show me? Will you help me relax?” She whispered straight into your mouth, as if she was putting a spell on you. Hypnotizing you with her seductive voice.

You could give a bare nod before her lips crashed onto yours making your mind delete every single thing that existed besides the two of you in that room. In her little studio. You’d never done it in public, how thrilling.

“Close the door first.” As fast as possible you got up and did as you were told. She turned the chair in your direction letting you see her back confidently leaned against it with her elbows lazily resting on the armrest. “Now get on your knees.”

You gulped and your eyes even widened due to excitement, Soyeon smirked amused by how easy you were to turn on. You were so fun to play with. Her words were your command. She loved watching your hungry eyes following every single move of her fingers while they worked on the belt.

“Now I want you to make me forget all about that damn song.” Soyeon rasped once she let her member stand freely in front of your face.

“Say no more, baby.” You met her eyes for a brief second, wanting her to know that you’d never disappoint. There was no way you’d loose an opportunity to please her.

Gentle, yet firm your hold was on her at first. You took your time moving your hand up and down her shaft meeting her wet with precum, tip. You bit your lip at the sight and let your thumb smear it. Your actions earned a breathy moan from your girlfriend.

When you looked up you saw Soyeon’s head had fully fallen on the chair.

“Don’t stop, my good girl.” Her lips created a lazy smile after she felt your mouth wrap around her length.

You grabbed the base of her cock meanwhile your warm tongue took care of its’ upper part. Over time with Soyeon, you learned how to give incredible blowjobs. You knew how to use your mouth and knew exactly what tipped your girlfriend over the edge.

“My god, Y/N. You’re so good at it.” Groans kept spilling from her, as your tongue moved the right way, sucking her deliciously.

Soyeon’s fingers pulled on your hair, she didn’t even need to guide you, just needed something to keep herself grounded. Her hips bucked without her really acknowledging it.

You hummed against her cock, almost smiling at Soyeon’s responses to you. Only you could see her like that, taste her here and there. The vibrations you made had your girlfriend panting heavily, her orgasm was approaching. It was approaching fast.

“Fuck, baby.” Her shaft was throbbing in your mouth and your hand was playing with her balls - it was over for Jeon Soyeon. She was addicted to your touch, even her words came out stuttered. “I-I’m cumming.”

Eagerly, you swallowed everything she gave you, slightly slurping. Soyeon moaned your name, trying her best not to be loud at the same time. After you pulled away in order to wipe your mouth, she looked at you with a satisfied smile, eyes full of stars.

“You should visit me here more often.”

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cobrakaisb · 1 year

Text

no strings attached

summary: it always starts with not strings attached, but feelings turn into secrets turn into drunk calls turn into full blown confessions

warnings: mentions of a sexual relationship (no actual smut though), alcohol usage, partying, ANGST

word count: 2.05k

it was never supposed to be this way. no strings attached. that’s what mark said the first time you woke up in his bed. it was after a long, and fun, night of partying. one of the hockey team’s big wins before making it to the final four in boston. they beat minnesota maybe, or was it quinnipiac? you couldn’t remember, but you remember mark.

he was always there. maybe you always thought there was something brewing, but for him, it was just a friendship. then they won. and someone was smoking this, and another person was drinking that, and you and mark got caught up in it all. his hands were all over you, fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you down onto his lap. yours knotting in his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands. whispering, trying to convince the other to leave, chapped lips brushing against your ear. until it finally worked and he had you wrapped in his jacket, leading you back to his dorm.

everyone knew. and ethan, god bless ethan, because he never said a word. the first time it wasn’t a big deal. he woke up to find you and mark tangled together, a mess of limbs and sheets. then it happened a couple days later. and again when the boys lost in the frozen four. and it just kept happening. but nobody knew, except you, mark, and his pesky roommate ethan.

it was never supposed to be like this. yet you found yourself in michigan for the summer, spending a week at mark’s house. his mom smiling and chatting with you at the kitchen counter, skimming through photo albums and telling embarrassing stories. she asked what you were, and you tried to answer, really, but even you didn’t know. friends? lovers? dating? a hook up? there was no real label. everything was convoluted, covered in a haze.

maybe it was the trip at his house that made you reconsider your feelings for him. seeing him interact with his mom, watching as he helped around the house. listening in as he played with his younger cousins, granting their every wish. how he kept his arm around the back of your chair, always. he leant you a hat, or two, offered up sweatshirts for you to wear at night when it was too cold for short sleeves but not cold enough to want to be inside. when he took you to that small little breakfast joint, laughing and teasing as you drove down the street.

as the summer went on, it seemed like more and more strings were getting attached. you met his family, and he met yours. your mom asked about him once he left. your friends kept poking and prodding, saying that he was cute and you should go for it. then sophomore year came and he was getting a house, moving out of the dorms and in with some of the guys.

now you didn’t have to worry about ethan sleeping in the bed directly across from you; there was a wall separating you. there were two floors. it was easy to sneak away unnoticed and unheard. that’s what you told yourself at least.

it was easy. you were fine. there were no strings attached. but it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

you don’t remember when the final straw was. maybe it was when he got that five minute major. or was it when he was given a game misconduct? either way, he called you after both, and for the first time throughout this whole shabang, you didn't want to be just a call. as much as you tried to avoid it, your strings were attached. they were so heavily intertwined that it was like a failed friendship bracelet, a knotted, tangled mess of strings. you had to tell him, so you came clean.

“i don’t want you to hate me,” you started, sitting criss-cross applesauce on their porch. “i could never hate you,” mark assured, leaning back on his forearms, he was getting too comfortable. you were getting too comfortable. “i caught feelings, mark,” you said softly, voice barely above a whisper. he was silent for a long time. “who is it?” mark asked.

his question has you reeling. how was it not obvious that it was him? your whole world revolves around him. “what?” you whispered softly, still feeling confused. “who is this guy that’s gonna break this great thing we have? who’s the one getting in between us?” mark snapped. the way he talked about your relationship made you nervous. his strings weren’t attached, that much was obvious.

“his name is mark estapa. he’s a defenseman for the michigan hockey team. know him?” you replied, already getting up from your seat. mark stayed there, mouth wide open. “but we said…” he started to say. “i know what we said! i get it okay! you don’t want this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you, “in the same way that i do.” he was still silent. “believe me, i know. and i also know that i can’t keep doing this. not how it is right now at least,” you trialed off, hoping he would want you too.

“i’m not…i was very clear y/n…fuck i don’t want,” he said, hands playing with the backwards hat on his head. you swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding while simultaneously blinking back your tears. “right. i’ll see you around mark,” you answered, turning and leaving before he got the chance to break your heart anymore.

someone must have grabbed the scissors and cut apart the ball of string because there was no way you were coming back from this.

yet somehow, mark didn’t seem to get the message. he kept calling and calling and calling. and when you declined he’d start texting and texting and texting. finally, you just had to block his number. it was too much for you, the bitter taste of rejection and the tears of regret arising whenever his name flashed across your screen. at one point, he tried talking to you, but your friends helped you hide in the bathroom, quickly shutting that down.

so, what started as a casual relationship ended with you, alone and bitter. in all fairness, mark warned you. he was upfront from the beginning, so you really had no one to blame but yourself. he told you that there would be no strings attached, just makeouts and hookups, but of course you couldn’t follow those simple instructions.

then, you made your own code of conduct. one that consisted of ignoring him. it didn’t last long though. nothing regarding mark ever seemed to last long. especially when you were drinking. that’s when it was worse. all the feelings would come up and your usually bubbly persona went down the drain. once you had a solid buzz going, thoughts of mark would infiltrate your brain, reminding you of your lonely status. until saint patrick’s day weekend.

obviously there were darties and parties and everything in between. so it wasn’t a surprise that when michigan won, the partying was only amplified. in your inebriated state, calling mark was the best option. to say congratulations. that was it. that’s what you kept telling yourself as you unblocked his contact and hit the green call button.

you waited and waited and waited. voicemail. but you were persistent, so you kept calling. again and again and again, you dialed his number. foot tapping on the sticky, alcohol covered, floor as you held your phone to your ear. the cool screen sticking to your flushed skin. after ten calls, he kept count not you, he answered.

“y/n?” he asked, hesitancy clearly in his voice. “mark! i saw the game! you won, so i had to…i had to call. you deserved a call,” you mumbled, words escaping your mouth faster than you could comprehend. “oh yeah. thanks,” he answered.

the effort was minimal, you could feel it through the phone. he didn’t want you to call. he didn’t want you then and he still doesn’t want you know. your sobbing before you can hang up, before you can shake yourself and get a grip.

“y/n? why are you crying? what’s wrong baby?” he said. if you weren’t crying, if you weren’t drunk, if you were able to comprehend, your heart would’ve skipped a beat. “i’m drunk. I’m drunk and my first thought is always you. it’s always you mark. and i want you so bad, but you never wanted me. no strings attached,” you explained, taking a long sip from your cup. “y/n…” he started, but you wouldn’t let him. he hurt you enough. “don’t pity me mark. i don’t…i don’t want a guy to be with me out of pity,” you said. you heard him take a breath, but before he could answer, you hung up the phone.

it shouldn’t have surprised you when mark arrived at your dorm the next day. but it did. he stood there, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “hi. can we talk?” he whispered. you hesitated, feeling nervous. your plans were sweaty and you felt like there was a frog in your throat. all you could muster was a nod as you grabbed your keys and followed him outside. the walk was silent, deadly silent. the kind of silence that exists between two people who don’t know what to say, how to say it, or when to say it. the type of silence that shouldn’t exist between you and mark.

“so you called me last night,” he blurted out. “i did,” you replied, interested in your scuffed up converse. “you did. do you remember what you said?” he asked. you shut your eyes, embarrassment washing over you like a wave at the beach. “if i said i didn’t would we just move past it?” you tried to joke, but mark didn’t laugh.

“no. i would remind you,” he answered, face serious. you stopped walking, turning to face him. “why? why do you do this?” you demanded, poking at his chest. “me! you’re the one that left and then refused to let me speak! you blocked my number and flat out ignored me for weeks. then you call me last night, and tell me that all you do is think about me,” you opened your mouth to interject but he doesn’t let you. “let me finish. god y/n just let me fucking speak because if you let me talk, you’d know that i’ve always loved you. and i still do! even though you ignore me and basically cut me out of your life, i still love you. i want you just as much now as i did last week, and two months ago, and this summer, and even last year.”

you're crying; tears streaming down your face as you listen to him rant. “why didn’t you say it sooner?” you croaked out. mark swallows, looking at you with utmost regret in his eyes, “because we said no strings attached.” you laughed. you were crying but now you’re laughing because how did you two agree to this? why did you agree? you think back to your freshman year and wonder what possessed you to say no strings attached. you wanted them to be attached, every single one. your strings and mark’s strings woven together into a tightly knit friendship bracelet, or maybe a keychain, or anything that involved the two of you being together.

it was silent between the two of you. both of you just standing there, waiting for the other to make a move. finally, mark had the courage to do so. “i think we should let our strings attached . maybe they could get jumbled up in a giant knot, and we wouldn’t be able to untie it, because i,” he paused to take a deep breath, “i don’t think i could live my life without you.”

“mark?” “yeah?” “let me kiss you.” his laugh echoed through the quad. his smile overtook his face, scrunching up his eyes and cheeks. his eyes brightened. his hands reached out for you, pulling you into him. his lips met yours.

your strings were pretty much attached.

#mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa imagine #mark estapa blurb #mark estapa blurbs #umich hockey #cobrakaisb writing

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f10werfae · 2 years

Text

The Boudoir Book (Drabble)

Pairing: Husband!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader

Summary: Y/n creates a boudoir book for her new husband, and waits to see his reaction

Boudoir: A boudoir session is a photography session where you wear sexy outfits, lingerie, dresses, or even go scantily clad and get your photographs taken

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Full Masterlist🌟

Chris Evans Masterlist✨

Taglist Form💫

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Y/n's P.O.V)

I finished putting together my new spicy present for Chris, something I was supposed to give him during our wedding three weeks ago. However, I only got the photos done by my friend who actually specialises in Boudoir shoots,

Taking pictures of me nude, in all sorts of positions, and pictures in lingerie of course.

I had decided to compile all the pictures into this massive leather book, with a cover that said

“To Chris,

Forever yours, Y/n”

Putting on some red lipstick I left some smooch marks on some pages and wrote some not so friendly comments under each photograph. Photographs with me in the bathtub, upside down on the couch, on all fours, spreading my legs, heck you name the position and I bet you I was in it.

Pushing myself out of Chris' office chair I called him in after kicking him out for the whole day, listening as I heard him quickly run into the room,

“Ya done baby?” He asked walking over and pulling me closer by my waist, his arms pulling me in for a tiny snuggle.

“Yeah n’ sit down I wanna give you somethin”

“Alright then anything for you my girl” He teased kissing me softly before sitting down, bringing me onto his lap with his arms hugging my waist

“This is your gift, I know it’s a bit late but I wanted to take my time on it” I whispered sliding it over and watching him unravel the ribbon after tracing his fingers over the lettering on the cover

“Forever mine huh? You are so precious”

“Shut up and look at your present before I hit you”

“Alright mrs bossy pants, don’t worry though i’m forever yours too”

My breath hitched when he opened the first page, he immediately snapped the book closed,

“WOAHOOO DID I JUST SEE WHAT I THINK I JUST SAW?!” He shouted triumphantly, his eyes now big and wide like a child’s

“Jus keep goin hun” I said, letting my hands play with the hair on the back of his head, his fingers taking their tame tracing over each photo and word on the page.

“Did ya like it?”

“Like it? I loved it, i’m takin this book everywhere with me, gonna carry my gorgeous wife around with me everywhere n' no one can stop me. Now I have an alternative to our tapes-“

“You are ridiculous” I interrupted laughing, a sheet of embarrassment coming over me as I stood up from the chair and faced him.

“Hey hey bunny, listen can ya blame me? I jus got an album with my wife’s knockers out and everythin else” He teases standing up, his hands going underneath my shirt to grope my chest.

“No bra today?”

“Not today hun” I teased back

“Hopefully none tomorrow either” He replied giving them another squeeze

#romance #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans oneshot

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l1tw1ck · 1 year

Text

Album: Aether

Bottom!FTM Aether x Top!Masc!Pervert Reader

{Request} | AFAB language used

Contains: Consensual Somnophilia, Cameras, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Slight Voice Kink, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Hair Pulling

Words: 1,562

──────────────────

Since you went to bed early, Aether gets the idea to look through the photos you've taken of him. The two of you share your passwords so Aether doesn't feel any guilt when he goes to your camera roll.

Aether opens up the 'Aether' album and is greeted with three sub folders. 'Cute', 'Sleeping', and 'Hot'.

Aether looks through the 'Cute' folder and finds nothing weird so they go to the next. At first it's just pictures of Aether sleeping peacefully and then it escalates.

His eyes widen when he sees a photo of your thumb in his mouth, the next one is a video. A video of you fucking his mouth with your fingers. Aether raises the volume a few levels and hears your groaning over the sounds of his mouth being violated.

Despite how wrong it is, Aether gets wet from the video. Nothing was off limits between the two of you, except for sex. Even though Aether put almost everything on the table you don't touch him much, at least not when he's awake. You didn't want to scare him off with how perverted you are.

They go to the next video. It shows their legs spread apart and a damp spot in the pink panties you bought them.

"Look how wet you are for me.." You mumble. "Fuck you make me so horny, Aether."

The next video was taken with some sort of device, allowing you to record without using your hands. Those were occupied with gripping his thighs as you rubbed your dick across his clothed cunt.

His shirt is pulled all the way up so that when you come, you come all over his bare stomach. Aether bites their lip and traces their hand across their abdomen, knowing that your cum was there in the past. And probably multiple other times they were unaware of.

"Fuck.." Aether curses under their breath.

They wonder if they should send some of these videos to themself and turn them into an audio file and use them to masturbate when you're gone. The words you say in some of them are just too hot to forget.

"Look at you, so pliant for me."

"Do you even know how much of a slut you are in your sleep?"

"So beautiful."

"You look so innocent, I just want to defile you."

"I wish I could fuck your throat, Aether."

"You would look so cute with my cum dribbling down your chin."

Maybe he'll ask you to record something special...

The last album is full of panty shots and some pictures of his chest that Aether knew you took. You didn't engage too much in anything sexual with him but you never hid your love for the small mounds on his chest.

From sucking to pulling to biting, you do everything possible to his puffy pink nipples. You always took pictures after you finished making a mess of his tits.

Aether has been ready for the next step for a few days now, waiting for the perfect time for you to take his virginity but he doesn't want to wake you. You had a long day and deserve this rest so instead he climbs into bed and rests his head on your chest.

Aether listens to your heavy breathing while touching themself, thinking about what you would do if you knew what they're doing right now.

Would you tease or mock them? Call them a horny slut?

Or maybe because you're even more perverted than they are, you would help him out. Replace his fingers with yours and roughly finger fuck him until he comes. Maybe you'd keep going and overstimulate them, whispering dirty words into their ear as you bring them to another orgasm.

Aether covers their mouth and moans. They need you inside them, so badly. They finger themself more roughly to emulate how he thinks you would do it.

Aether's toes curl as they come, wishing it was your fingers that did this.

They take a quick shower and come back to sleep with you.

──────────────────

The next morning, Aether decides to talk to you about the album.

"I saw the album you have of me." Aether says abruptly, looking down at the liquid in his mug.

You pause. "Oh." You were going to put a password on the album so this didn't happen.

Aether turns to you, very flushed. "I...I liked it."

"Oh." You smirk. "You liked it? I didn't know you were a pervert too."

Aether bites his lip. "I want to...to..." He stutters. "I'm ready.."

You immediately stand up and pick your boyfriend up, taking him into your room and dropping him onto the bed.

You take your time stripping him, slowly pulling off each article of clothing and taking in his beauty. "You're so soft, Ae." You say, groping his chest lovingly.

Aether feels like a god in the presence of one if it's most dedicated angels under your gaze, you look at him like he's the most beautiful person in the world.

Your hand moves down to his sex and your gaze changes to a perverted one. "Shit, you're so fucking wet."

Aether moans, feeling hot under you with you looking at him like that. He can almost feel all the dirty and disgusting thoughts you have in your mind.

"What did you do after you saw everything?" You ask, slowly slipping two fingers inside him.

Aether turns a soft pink. "I went into bed next to you and...I fingered myself."

Your breath hitches. "Yeah? Slow? Fast?"

"Fast, and rough. I wanted you to do it.."

"Shit. Wake me up next time, or even just use me however you want. Gods, I'd love to wake up with my fingers plunged deep into you." You groan, slowly finger fucking him and increasing your pace bit by bit. "And see your cute little face when you get caught, no, I'd love to see your face while you're doing it. Can you show me sometime, baby? Take a video for me?"

Aether nods, barely able to speak from the pleasure.

"You're so cute.."

"Gon- gonna c- c-" Aether arches their back, eyes blown wide, and comes.

"I can't wait to feel you around my cock.." You slowly pull your fingers out and suck up his fluids. "Can I fuck you raw?"

Thankfully Aether nods, you didn't have any condoms. "Please. Want you to come inside me.."

You bury your head in his shoulder, breathing deeply with an incredibly hard cock trapped in your underwear. "Can I be rough?"

"Whatever you want, (Name)." They reply softly.

You bite his neck, nibbling on his flesh while you quickly pull yourself out of your clothes. "You don't know what you just got yourself into, Ae."

You slowly ease into them, taking in how they feel. "You feel even better around my cock." You hiss while easing further in. "Warm, wet, and tight. Fuck.."

Aether looks down and watches you enter him, a bump forming in his stomach showing how deep and big you are. He moans your name traces the bulge with his finger.

"Oh Gods, I'm so deep inside you, Aether." You bite your lip. "I'm not even fully inside, just how small are you? Makes me wanna break you.."

"Break me, please." Aether tightens around you. "Make it hurt."

You make an animalistic sound of arousal and shove your length fully inside him, his adorable gasp and shocked expression only encourages you more to fuck him until he almost shatters into glass.

You grip his hips and start fucking into him at a rough pace, not even giving him a second to adjust. Just how he wanted it. Their chest bounces with each thrust, the view almost too captivating to tear away from.

Aether breaks out into loud moans, blessing your ears with his verbal displays of pleasure. "Ha- harder~!"

You lift his hips up and drill into him deeper, making his eyes roll to the back of his head. "You really are a whore, Aether."

They smile stupidly in response. "Gon- gonn- uh~ come~!" They're face grows warmer as you bring them to an orgasm.

You lower his hips and lean in to kiss him, still fucking him roughly. "You're squeezing me~"

Drool dribbles down their chin and their face stays a soft shade of red. "So~ good~!"

You pull away and position them into doggystyle. You dig your nails into his hip and use your other hand to grab his braid. You notice that you left a bruise on his hip, the sight making you go feral.

Aether cries out in both pleasure and pain when you pull on their hair, bringing their head back and causing more drool to drip down onto the bed.

Their words become incomprehensible, not one thing they say, or moan, makes sense. A clear sign of overstimulation.

"Fuck- Aether-" You groan as your thrusts become uneven. "Gonna come and fill you up so fucking good."

Excited noises erupt from their drool ridden mouth, words that sound almost like he's begging or telling you to come inside him.

Your thrusts slow down and with one pull of their braid, you bury yourself deep inside and fill their wet insides with your spend.

You take a moment to breathe, still rock hard inside of them. "One more time?"

Aether nods quickly.

#male reader #top male reader #wicks🕯requests #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #wicks🕯works #genshin x male reader #genshin impact #bottom aether #aether smut #aether x male reader #aether x reader #aether genshin impact #sub aether #🕯️aether #🕯️Genshin

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resident-gay-bitch · 7 months

Text

a steddie modern au idea that i probably won’t write because i just Don’t have the time or energy for another wip but i’m putting it out here so i remember it, and if anyone wants to write this or gets inspired Please tag me so i can read it <3

okay so imagine this right, rockstar eddie & popstar steve - on complete opposite ends of the music spectrum, forcibly brought together by their label to collaborate on an album!!

read more under the cut :)

( i basically wore the fic lol )

okay, eddie’s in his band right with CC, and they’ve come so far and are doing so well in the metal industry. eddie’s made quite the reputation for himself as the loud, bash, pushy, stuck up, bitchy rockstar who makes his own rules, parties fucking hard, and is a certified sex symbol across the globe.

once on stage, playing out under the stars, a bat flew down onto stage and it was freaking gareth out so eddie Caught it with his hands and held it up simba style, named it ozzy, sent it back off into the night sky and dubbed the bat the bands - and eddie’s own - personal mascot. this was way earlier on in their career so metal snobs started calling him an ozzy osbourne wannabe - the prissy Princess of Darkness. untill he started making way and then the name stuck and one time eddie came out onstage in full pink princess dress and crown and played their gnarliest show yet.

steve harrington though? he’s an angel. the youngsters drool over him and have pictures of soft sweaters and stawberry lipglossed steve on their walls, middle aged women look at him and wished their husbands could be the kind soul that the world knows him to be. the “men” call him a queer and pathetic, and when people ask steve about it in interviews he just smiles and shrugs and says in his soft voice “if that’s how they want to perceive me, that’s okay. i know who i am, i’m just steve. why should we spread hate when we can just be nice?”

girls from highschool started posting about their own experiences with the soft boy sensation that is steve, saying he was the kindest boy they’ve ever dated, he brings girls flowers and kisses them on the doorstep and Holds Their Hands during sex. gen z start calling him a “king 💅” whenever Anything comes out about steve because he just Can’t do anything wrong, and eventually he gets dubbed the King of Pop.

eddie munson is best friends and living with five time gold medalist olympian chrissy cunningham, the gymnast young girls look up too. they’re often speculated to be dating, and half the world thinks they’re actually married concidering they have a cat together, often wear matching outfits when out, and hold hands when walking around. one time eddie was captured giving her a forehead kiss when standing in line for smoothies. but concidering eddie is also seen leaving venues with girls under his arm, and chrissy following behind him with a couple of guys, the rest of the world says they can’t be. who knows, maybe their open or polly, it’s the twenty first century everybody! (but in truth eddie’s walking with chrissy’s hookups under his arms, and chrissy’s chatting away with the guys eddie plans on ruining for the night, and they’ll swap once sage inside the trailer)

steve has a house right next door to up and coming actress robin buckley, and they took down the fence between their homes and built a corridor combining them. they’re as close as chrissy and eddie seem to be, but after robin was seen making out with one of her female costars at a red carpet after party, and wearing a lesbian flag pin on her jacket in paparazzi pics, those rumours have died significantly.

chrissy cunningham is in love with steve harrington, she thinks he’s the perfect man, “if i had to date a guy, eddie, it would be that one and that one Only. i’ll excuse the penis if he looks at me with those pretty boy eyes.” she has posters of him on her wall, listens to his music on the regular, and eddie knows way more about him than he’d like to admit. not that he pays much attention, just when chrissy plays his latest single on an endless loop and quotes things he says on the daily, a guys gonna pick up on stuff.

robins little sister, max, who by platonic-soulmate-law, is steve’s little sister is Obsessed with CC. she listens to them all the time, along with a bunch of other metal and punk bands, and has a poster of him shredding on her wall. her boyfriend lucas gets jealous about it all the time and even took to learning one of his solos on steve’s guitar.

the thing is, though, eddie and steve are perceived the way they are because their label actually Sucks and they’re signed in for too many more years to find a way out.

queer aligations got shot around about Everyone in CC. people think they all fuck guys, people think they all fuck eachother, people think so many things and the label twists and turns those stories to make them “acceptable”.

the thing is though, they’re all so fucking gay… and they all have fucked eachother. eddie and gareth were boyfriends back in highschool, jeff and grant have been together for the last couple of years and they’re talking marriage. they’ve all hooked up with eachother separately, they’ve all gotten together for a few foursomes, they’ve all gangbanged a bunch of groupies of Multiple genders together, so eddie Knows where the rumours come from. he wants to be out, hates hiding, thinks it’s stupid and backwards and Who Cares if they loose a few followers? those aren’t the kinds of people eddie wants listening to his music anyway.

it’s only when gareth settled down with his new wife and popped out kid number one that the rumours about him started to die out… even though, before the kid came around, gareth and his wife would sleep with eddie, jeff, and grant like… all the time.

the only queer speculations about steve are the ones coming from the “alpha males” and younger queer boys that connect with him and want someone like steve to look up too and say “he’s queer too, we’re the same, and it’s okay”. but his label hasn’t given steve a voice… like at all. he got signed because of his gorgeous voice and soft lyrics about losing love and being alone, and being conflicted in your sexuality, and then they signed him and his contract states that he’s Not allowed to write Any of his own lyrics. not a single one of his own songs have been published, to this day.

the label tried to restrict eddie like that too, saying his lyrics were too controversial, but CC refuses to be fake. they agreed to only write songs about death and drugs and sex and satan and blah blah blah metal. eddie’s never really published much from the heart, but he sneaks metaphors in there all the time, that only hardcore fans can pick up on.

the labels getting bored of steve. it’s just the same music, the same tours, the same questions in every interview. he’s Boring them. it’s only a small amount of time before the world gets bored of him too, plus, it’s not like he’ll stay this pretty forever. they want to discard him - he’s locked in by contract though, has to release one more album and tour before they can be done with him.

and then grant dies. it’s a horrible accident, car crash, some drunk driver t-boned him and flipped his car off the road. it Breaks jeff. it breaks all of them, but mostly jeff. he’s distraught, turns to drugs, ODs and it’s then that gareth and eddie send him to rehab.

there’s no corroded coffin without grant, the band breaks up. the three of them Won’t play stadium tours and write albums together without him, and- “are you fucking CRAZY? of course we’re not Replacing him, get a fucking grip.”

it takes Months for any of them to get to a point where they can be seen in society again. it’s then that the label says they Have to bring one more album an to the table. but they’re willing to drop CC if eddie goes solo. he’s the face of the band anyway, the voice, “he’s who the women want, guys.”

eddie agrees, because he’s legally obligated too. and he writes the most dumbfuck album anyone’s ever heard. it’s all preschool-esque lyrics and about farm animals and potty training and it’s also just fucking Gay - like there’s one song that just goes on and on an on about some guys ballsack. he records a demo to go with them, has his guitar perfectly out of tune and sings so terribly his voice cracks, if singing is what you can actually call it. the label gets So fucking mad at him.

so here they are, newly solo artist eddie munson, the fucking prick, stuckup rockstar, entitled rich as Princess of Darkness, and steve harrington, the sweet soft boy turned boring, King of Pop; both locked in for another album, and tour, and Useless.

they’re going to Lose the label money at this rate.

so they try something. something that will bring in Buckets.

CC and steve harrington are the labels two biggest musicians. they’re constantly fighting to be top of the charts, shooting past eachother with every new album, new single, new tour, new pap photos, new relationship spectacle, each red carpet appearance… evetything. They are who everyone’s obessed with, they are who have the Biggest markets. every woman on the globe has to be obsessed with at least One of them.

why not pool those two fanbases together? get them to collaborate on a song together, the fans will go crazy and it will surely break the charts. the company will get So fucking rich.

but if they can make buckets off one song… than why not a whole album? why not make them Tour together.

which is how eddie and steve find themselves nervously sitting in a recording studio together one afternoon, going through introductions and contracts and provosos with the label and blah blah blah boring rules and legal shit.

eddie’s dreading working with this guy. he’s a total Phonie! King of Pop? who does he think he is, this harry styles wanna be. sure he writes poetic shit about love and making soft love to women, but it’s all so vapid. eddie Knows music, and he knows when lyrics are bullshit. i mean Sure, eddie knows a good handful of his songs on guitar, but that’s Only so he can play them to chrissy because it’s special to her. doesn’t make his music Good - and that’s not even eddie being a snob, he can vibe with pop, taylor swift is a lyrical goddess, he is an all too well girlie and he and chrissy scream the ten minuet version in the car together late at night.

he’s also dreading the clear over kindness. steve’s meant to be this darling angel, and sure that’s why the girls and gays love him so much, but eddie doesn’t think he could Handle someone being so fucking nice up in his face like that because he’ll Know it’s fake. he won’t be able to tell if the guys actually being nice because he actually gets along with eddie, or if he’s being nice because it’s his job.

and steve is dreading working with eddie because eddie is supposed to be one of the Hardest people to work for. he’s stuck up and dickish and Snarky and so fucking confident and a Rockstar for fucks sake. steve is way too tired to deal with a cunt right now - let alone Tour with one.

everything about this meeting and collaboration is Completely under the blanket. the label doesn’t want to announce Anything until they have a good album from them, because they know how hot headed and temperamental eddie is - given the last thing he gave them, which was immediately scrapped.

so they meet, sign a bunch of non disclosures. they’re not even allowed to tell robin and chrissy that they’re Meeting eachother - they do, though, but it doesn’t go past those two.

they’re left alone, once everything is signed. they’ve been standoffish, haven’t said more than ten words to eachother. eddie’s all glares and attitude, steve’s all soft smiles and bats of his eyelids.

they both want to be sick - this is torture.

everything’s signed. everything’s legally a secret. they’re behind closed doors in a recording studio to themselves to “get creative”. and so the masks come down.

turns out, steve is Not nice. three minuets into their alone time, eddie kicks his feet up onto the desk by steve and steve… he picks up a pen and uses it to push eddie’s shoes off the table and away from him with a bitchy glare.

steve’s Bitchy. he’s got bite and he’s So fucking sarcastic. he keeps looking eddie over and scrunching his nose, he keeps making snide comments about eddie’s over sexual behaviour and drug culture. he even goes so far as to insult eddie’s hair, “the eighties called, van halen wants his wig back”.

and eddie’s… we’ll, he’s a little turned on by it.

to the world, steve’s this perfect little soft boy who sings about love and sugar and spice and all things nice, but when there’s a contract saying eddie’s legally obliged to shut his trap about Anything steve related, he lets his true colours show.

and steve? well, once he sends out a Bunch of snarky remarks eddie’s way, he’s realising that eddie’s not reacting the way he’s been conditioned to believe eddie would. he’s expecting mean quips back, jabs at his career and “queerness” and pastel colour pallet, maybe even a meltdown. but eddie just sits there slack jawed and actually.. encouragers steve’s insults and bitchy nature. and eddie’s kinda sweet, when steve tells him to keep his shoes off the table, eddie complies and actually apologises. he even pulls out a random compliment, telling steve he actually has a really nice voice.

and he’s making steve nervous… he’s getting butterflies.

they talk for a little while longer before eddie conducts a plan. they have to go home and listen to each others music and pick a few favourites or memorable things, stuff they think they can get behind mixing with their own style. they need something with Both of their sounds combined.

steve only has a few albums out, so eddie says he’ll listen to them all. corroded coffin though? they have Heaps of music out, so eddie writes down a list of their top albums and some of His favourites from other albums that he thinks steve might be able to get behind.

steve goes home and recruits robin to listen with him, gets max to send through all of her favourites and Why. he writes down a little list with his top five songs and a couple quotes and times where solos fucking rock. by the time he’s done he’s got about an a4 page worth of notes.

eddie goes home and he and chrissy spend the night analysing All of steve’s music. they print out the lyrics to every song and scribble all over them, listing to his two albums, one EP, and a single, on an endless loop. chrissy is Always happy to spend hours talking about Steve Harrington, and eddie is the biggest fucking nerd and loves analysing music and figuring everything about it out. he learns chords, flips some of steve’s songs to make them a little rougher so he can show steve and give him a taste of the stuff they Could create.

steve feels so embarrassed with the lack of shit he’s got when eddie slams down a Folder full of notes. but eddie hurriedly stops steve’s apologising and looks at his notes and Actually awes at them “you like this song? it’s your favourite? i wrote that secretly about my fuck off dad and missing my mamma- you really like it? gosh, not many people do… this is so cool, i can’t believe you listened to it”

eddie starts talking about - and dissecting - steve’s music, telling him things about his lyrics He didn’t actually know. eddie tells him they’re all kinda… vappid. like steve doesn’t sing them with Emotion. they don’t come from the heart, they’re just stories. steve tells him he’s not allowed to write his own stuff, even though he has books full of lyrics at home.

eddie has an entire wall of his house turned into a bookshelf filled with journals for lyrics and writing music, different shelf’s are for different moods and different journals are for different themes.

they start to jam and eddie plays a few of steve’s songs. they figure out some stuff and eddie declares they’re going to make “the most outer worldly album that’s ever graced our mortal plane, king stevie, i can promise you that” - he gives steve a mission. he has to go home and find One song he’s written that he’d like the world to know about, and text pictures of it to eddie - and eddie will make sure it’s label appropriate (if it’s not, he’ll sit down with steve and they’ll tweak it to hide controversial themes behind metaphors) and tell their boss he wrote it so they can put it on the album; steve will sing it of course, and it will come from the heart.

they talk about their experiences over the next few weeks. it’s basically paid fucking therapy. eddie talks about grant, talks about CC, talks about highschool, talks about chrissy. steve talks about robin, talks about highschool, talks about the mall fire he got caught in, he talks about his abuser billy hargrove. eddie opens up about his own abuser, reefer rick, his old supplier. steve opens up about getting cheated on with the first girl he loved. eddie opened up about getting cheated on by reefer. steve opens up about neglectful parents and eddie opens up about his time through the foster system and having a druggie mother and a dad in jail.

that’s what they write music about.

steve finally sends eddie a song. it’s a song about learning to care about yourself. he wrote it when robin stepped into his life, when she conditioned him to gain his self respect back and love himself. it’s about how fucking Important loving yourself - no matter your difference or your experiences may be.

eddie cries when he reads it, he thinks it’s perfect just the way it is. the few undertones of queerness he’s picking up on from deep analysis will go right over the labels heads.

eddie suggests he write a song completely on his own for the album too, one without steve’s imput. then they both have one song that’s completely Theirs. he writes his song about grant, it’s an ode to him, a goodbye, and hidden behind metaphors and poetic tear stained lyrics, it’s about having your true self hidden by masks and flashy cameras and men in tight suits; it’s about jeff, it’s about their love, it’s about the love eddie had for grant, it’s about the love they all had for eachother, it’s about the bandanna they all wear in their back pockets from time to time.

steve reads it and he… he gets it.

he knows eddie’s queer, eddie let it slip the second time they met, when he was talking about another of his songs about the first guy he had sex with. so it’s not a shock to steve to read this kinda shit.

but when eddie’s reading steve’s lyrics, it’s kinda shocking to him. steve hadn’t come out, even though he’s given ample opportunity, hadn’t mentioned anything about men and talked plenty about women, so eddie just fairly assumed he was straight.

on the last day of recording the album, they’re in the studio together. all the backtracks are done and they’re just recording lyrics. they’re both there in the sound booth with headphones on, and eddie’s singing his ode to grant, steve backing up his vocals, but letting eddie take centre stage. eddie cries and takes a good break before they can record steve’s song - steve’s song that they think eddie wrote.

they record steve’s song, eddie eddie backs up his vocals occasionally when asked, but it’s Steve’s song. its litterally titled steve’s song, because eddie felt sick with the idea of Actually taking credit for something steve created. he’s only doing it for legal reasons and because he Needs steve to get his lyrics out into the world. they worked on all the other songs together - the label doesn’t know that - but this is Steve’s. it should have been on his first album.

steve cries whilst singing it, because it comes from the heart. he sings it with raw fucking emotion and.. oh jeez, it makes eddie cry too. steve finished singing and eddie pulls him into a tight hug and whispers to steve so no one else can hear “that’s the best you’ve ever sounded, stevie”.

what they didn’t know was that their manager snapped a photo of their hug and sent it to rolling stone along with an announcement of a new album and upcoming tour.

the internet goes bazerk! “the King of Pop and the Princess of Darkness? what an odd pair… someone write me this fan fiction rn.”

eddie and steve go home that night feeling a little useless. they just spent weeks crammed up in the recording studio together, making music and talking about things they are too scared to tell the world, and now they’re… no where near eachother.

they both sit there in their houses and come to the realisation that they Don’t just think the other is only adorable and totally their type… that maybe they were falling in love and feel kinda empty without eachother.

they start texting, chatting, keeping eachother updated on their lives - mostly on their platonic soulmates. steve prints off a selfie he and eddie took together one night a few drinks in, guitars on their laps, cheesy grins on their faces, and signs it for chrissy - she Freaks Out.

eddie sends over a CC sample hoodie he had lying around that ended up getting discontinued before selling at all, and he signed the spot over the heart with fabric pen for max.

the single drops - steve’s song - and fans go crazy. steve’s fans And eddie’s fans have collectively come together to Scream about it. it reaches top of the charts in under a week. who knew a bunch of teenage girls could be so powerful?

the tour gets announced - tickets sell Fast.

the rest of the album drops and the label hosts a party for it. steve and eddie bring their other half’s and robin and chrissy hit it off immediately, and they start dating at a lesbian pace. steve and eddie get plastered and wake up cuddling - fully clothed, but cuddling - in… chrissy’s bed? they barely even remember going back to eddie’s place, but when they go out to the kitchen they find out that they ended up keeping the party going here - robin and chrissy are curled up together half naked on the couch.

they keep texting. they can’t stay away from eachother. they know the flirting is bad and helpless, but they Can’t Help it. they’re both smitten and falling more and more each day.

the tour starts and there are strict rules they have to oblige by, via steve’s original contact. eddie breaks half of them.

one of the rules happens to be Zero queerness - but that’s the same for eddie’s contract. they’re also both talked too about acting too “gay” on stage, they’re not allowed too. whatever that means.

the tour is fucking amazing. they both love looking out to the crowd and seeing all the different people. there are teenage girls in pastel skirts and sparkly dresses with bedazzled glasses and friendship charm bracelets, there are girls with dark eyeliner and ripped stockings and chunky silver jewlery and an obscene amount of leather, there are boys in lightwash jeans and crop tops, and boys in black ripped jeans and the wrong band tees with jewlery all over their faces, their are middle aged mothers wine drunk, there are older men with goatees, there are father there with their daughters and mothers there with their sons, and So, So many more different people. it makes them both emotional.

after show four of their massive tour, they’re both having a few drinks in eddie’s trailer and listening to music and continuing the game of truth or dare robin and chrissy started before they got distracted and wandered off to steve’s trailer. they get drunker, and gigglier, and closer, and more lose lipped, and steve tells eddie he’s bi, and eddie tells steve he’s the most beautiful (inside and out) man he’s ever met, and they kiss.

they spent the rest of their tour keeping their relationship VERY secret. steve’s trailer is now permanently robin and chrissy’s, and he and eddie share eddie’s. no one suspects a thing, they’re both used to keeping their queer relations under wraps.

they say i love you in the last month of their tour. when they get home, they want to move in together. they’re going to buy their own mansion with all the fucking money this albums made them, and they’re planning what their room will look like, and their kitchen, and their garden, and their future. steve wants kids, always has. eddie’s scared to be a dad, but he thinks he’d like to try with steve, just not for a few more years. they both think marriage is stupid, but they’re also both hopeless romantics who have each pictured and planned their own weddings so they think they might even get married one day. they get matching tattoos, a little crown on eddie’s ribs under his heart for steve, and a tiara in the same place on steve for eddie.

the label asks to sign them both on for a few more albums, another tour. they’re bringing in So much money.

eddie says no, straight away. he’s not letting steve get suffocated by these fuckers anymore. there’s nothing here for him anyway. he’s already working with gareth and jeff on creating their own label, it’s almost up and running.

for steve’s birthday, three nights before the tour ends, eddie tells him he’s now the co-ceo of his own production company, named after grant, to carry on his legacy. eddie slides over a wad of paper and tells steve he wants the first artist they sign to be steve - he works on his own conditions, writes whatever music he wants, sings from the heart, writes them one album and then once that’s done (when steve is Ready for it to be done) they’ll draw up another contract, if that’s what steve wants. steve signs, starts working on his first album right away.

he lies in bed that night with eddie’s head on his chest, and they’re scribbling down lyrics about sex in satin sheets in the dark of a tour trailer, and falling in love.

they perform their last show, and they cry hopelessly.

that’s it. they’re done. their no longer signed to the label, evetythings Over.

eddie’s wearing the tiara steve put on his head on their First show, he’s also wearing leather and stompers and no shirt. steve’s wearing lightwash blue jeans and a flowey shirt made of lace and a crooked crown on top of his perfect hair. they’re both heaving, and crying black mascara and eyeliner tracks down their cheeks, and sweating buckets. but they both think the other is so fucking beautiful and they can’t resist it

it’s not like they’re locked in by the label anymore anyway.

eddie shoved his guitar off and lays it very neatly on the ground before full pelt running for steve and just Kissing him. the crowd goes fucking crazy. they loose their shit and it breaks the media.

“i love you…” eddie pants into his mouth and kisses him again “i love you so fucking much baby”

“i love you too.” steve says and then he swiftly drops to one knee, pulls a ring box out of his pocket and asks eddie to marry him

it’s there in stage, with a the most diverse and random crowd in the world, sweaty and hot and in love, that eddie and steve break history. not only did they Just come out to the world as queer… and dating, they’re also the first famous queer couple to get engaged on stage like this.

so yeah… that’s my “little” fic idea :)

and then they obviously get married and get their mansion or whatever and adopt a kid a few years into the marriage, when eddie feels stable enough to be able to responsibily raise a little gremlin. she’s totally a little menace like eddie, but she’s for sure got his pure sweetness when she’s with people she trusts and loves but holy shit is she steve’s kid, because she’s gotta be more snarky and more bitchy than steve was during their first meeting… and what’s worse is when they gang up on eddie with double bitchy glares.

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awryval · 1 month

Text

death of an author, reclamation, and you

"We never are what we intend, or invent 'Cause I make little lies and then I pull them apart Think something dark's living down in my heart And if I wanted to die before I got old I should've started some years ago digging that hole"

Brand New. "At the Bottom." Daisy, 2009.

Brand New was among one of my favorite bands in high school, and I still listen to them today. Their music is important to me and shaped a big part of who I am. Their lyrics about being tortured, burnt-out, and choking on the weight of your own self-perceived flaws are relatable! Their compositions ooze with a level of self-hatred that can only be genuine. It's utterly depressing, and I adore it!

That's not not the full story, though. Jesse Lacey, the vocalist of Brand New, is a sexual predator. This informs everything about how the music of Brand New is. It's self-loathing for a very good reason. I love Brand New. I condemn Jesse Lacey. These two statements coexist. I used to be a part of the /r/brandnew subreddit, and when the allegations against Jesse Lacey came out in 2017, many redditors of that sub were quick to claim "death of the author." After all, the band had broken up immediately after the news broke, and they had also cancelled their tours. Currently, the people using that subreddit mostly talk about buying old BN merchandise and discuss what their favorite concert memories were. Jesse Lacey himself confirmed that the allegations against him were true, so there isn't much debate to be had. The subreddit serves as a monument for fans who still enjoy the music, and as a platform to speak about it with like-minded fans.

In my opinion, claiming "death of an author" is a slippery slope. We can't always claim that Miku is the creator of Minecraft. But often, we see that that is the response people have when a creator is outed to be problematic; "I still like the thing So-and-So made, so I will ignore that the creator exists!" The reason that this worked for Miku Minecraft is because, by the time that Notch was publicly making transphobic comments, he did not own Minecraft anymore. The joke is quite literally that he does not own the thing that people like. He sold it to Microsoft, so he doesn't get royalties from it anymore. You can play Minecraft devoid of supporting its original creator. This joke works so well because it is an actual case of the death of an author! That's great and all for Minecraft, but what about other instances? What happens when we claim "death of the creator" erroneously? And why are we so obsessed with this concept anyway?

So like, back to Brand New... they released their last album, Science Fiction, back in August 2017. The allegations came out later that same year. I own all of Brand New's discography physically, including their last release. I bought most of it off eBay when I was 15. I was not supporting them post-allegations. But that leaves me with a lingering question- what do I do with all these CDs that I still very much enjoy the music of? From how I see it, there are two firm camps on this topic:

Camp 1: You know about Lacey's crimes now and his music cannot be separated from his actions. Solution: Throw your CDs away.

Camp 2: It's something you bought without knowledge of Lacey's crimes, so you should enjoy it anyway. Death of an author! Solution: Continue as usual.

I'm not fond of either of these answers. They come off as too polarized for a situation that is the entire Pantone swatch library of grays. "But, how are there any shades of gray when its clear that Jesse Lacey is in the wrong?" I want to provide some counter questions for you to think about:

What about the other people in the band? You might not be directly supporting the sexual predator anymore, but there are other victims here too- effectively his band mates lost their jobs overnight. (Another example would be LOSTPROPHETS)

Is it feasible to destroy each object you own because it was created under problematic circumstances? When or when isn't this the case? Does it apply to your cup of coffee? Does it apply to the clothes you wear? What about any product with palm oil in it? What about the hardware in your computer? If you look into any company, you're going to find some horrific things you don't like about it. The takeaway here is that it isn't beneficial to treat situations like these as black or white. I don't think that destroying my CDs is going to do anything to take away the abuse that Jesse Lacey caused. Nor do I think ignoring the context of his music will do anyone any favors. The music he made is a product of his crimes. To ignore that fact would be disingenuous to why people enjoy his music and why the music exists in the first place. There's another element here, though. I, and many others, are no longer monetarily supporting Jesse Lacey. You can't even officially support the release of Brand New's music anymore as their record label (Procrastinate! Music Traitors) doesn't even seem to have a functioning website anymore? Regardless, I wouldn't want to support his music in a way that supports him, anyway. Yes, I enjoy the music and the themes of it, but I do not want to be directly supporting abuse that happened BECAUSE he was a vocalist in a band. And I can safely do this with CDs that I bought secondhand, right? This is death of the author. So what's the issue?

I believe there is an issue when people claim “death of the author” far too quickly and scramble to reclaim the media for themselves. It’s an increasingly popular trend these days to pluck characters/concepts from an author deemed to be problematic. "I'll save [Character I like] from this shitty piece of media!", they claim. I don't think people realize how multifaceted in effect that is, though. For instance, if the author is actively making money from their creation, you can't truly "reclaim" a character from them. It's more like you're paying homage to them with fanart.

My best on-going example of this would be Floraverse. There are a multitude of reasons why people do not like the author/s of Floraverse, which I will not go into here. To put it simply, though, since its inception in 2013, many artists and writers involved with Flora either left or were kicked out. These artists either directly contributed to the art and worldbuilding of the webcomic, or were heavily influenced by it. To this day, there are many times someone links me to art on Discord and I’ll say “oh I remember that person, they used to be a Flora fanartist!” and the other person is absolutely floored that that artist was ever linked to Floraverse. Anyway… There have been multiple attempts at people trying to reclaim Floraverse from the author, and this never works out. Like, it really doesn’t work out. Any time that someone tries to reclaim Floraverse characters for themselves whilst condemning the author, that person is dogpiled by the Floraverse community. Which is a weird behavior for a CC BY-SA webcomic, but I digress. Here are some highlights:

In 2019, there was a thread dedicated to Redesigning Floraverse that immediately got taken over by Floraverse itself a month later.

An artist got harassed for multiple years (I think it was 2020-2023) for having an oc based on Beleth, a character in Floraverse.

Just 2 months ago, an artist got harassed for drawing fanart of the characters

Historically, reclaiming Floraverse characters from the author hasn't worked out. And I mean.. why would it? It's an actively running "webcomic" (I'll be charitable) and with an active community that supports the author's current works and views with their wallets. It's one thing to enjoy a piece of media with a problematic author and want to reclaim that media for yourself. It is another for this reclamation to actually be effective. Attempts of "reclaiming" Floraverse get written off as fanworks that the community dislikes. You cannot reclaim Floraverse characters as they do not exist in a vacuum. Listening to secondhand Brand New CDs does work in a vacuum; Jesse Lacey's career is dead in the water. The same cannot be said for reclaiming the art of Glitchedpuppet and co. Floraverse characters and stories are not divorced from the abuses they cause. Characters will be used as strawmen to abuse community members, past or present. Or entire works will be up dedicated to making light of your childhood trauma! These characters were made by an abuser, and will be used to abuse. That is a simple fact about Floraverse. Except... in that statement, I'm not even talking about Glitchedpuppet, the current author of Floraverse. I'm talking about Marlcabinet, the previous author of Floraverse. This statement does however, apply to both of them. Hey, wait a minute, that's weird! I've been talking about "death of the author" for this entire post, and I just said that reclaiming Floraverse characters can't work because the way the characters were used to abuse real people doesn't exist in a vacuum. So like, why does this work within the Floraverse webcomic itself? Marl is the abuser of Glip, but Marl is also the author of the majority of early Floraverse. Isn't the story itself, as it currently stands, an act of reclaiming characters used to abuse community members, minors, and any detractors? Then who is to say that those who contributed to Floraverse and were similarly abused are not also allowed this same privilege? Their real-world suffering is what fuels the comic. When I was 13-16, I adored a Floraverse character named Cayenne. His whole deal was that he was an autistic child slave and was horribly abused by everyone around him. Weird character to connect to, but he’s the character that made me figure out I had autism! I drew a LOT of fanart of this character and I even own a (gifted) life-size plush of him. The authors only ever treated him as a joke and it was a joke even within the Floraverse community that I was the only person who actually liked/cared about him. Sometimes I think about reclaiming him for myself. But I also don’t want to get harassed, and I know I could design much better things, and write better things. Conversely, I also think about how this is the exact character that made me get into contact with Marl when I was 16. It’s a heavy weight to carry knowing that this exact character was the reason I was almost in the clutches of a child predator. Glip personally deferred me to him. Reclaiming Cayenne would hold emotional value for me as a reminder of my triumph over a predator. Would it be wrong for me to reclaim an abused child character from a comic that abused me and many others as children? I've no clue. And I don't think anyone can answer that. I've waffled on it for ~2 years now. Reclaiming Cayenne would give attention to an individual that profits off abusing others, myself included. I'd say that reclaiming Floraverse characters wouldn't be a case of "death of the author", but the original creator of them was a child predator that's no longer on the internet. Floraverse is already practicing death of an author, and it is a shell of its former self. That being said, it is not a story that only has one author. Its other authors are still active, and these authors include every person that it has abused in its wake. After all, it's a comic that relies on you to know about its dramas with and traumas of real people. Tell me: Does a death of the author matter when its being written about you?

#text #brand new #floraverse #death of the author #abuse #grooming

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sendmyresignation · 2 months

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if you wanna indulge me, id love to hear your opinions on sing (all of mine are detractory which i know isnt the complete view of the song)

omg id love too!! sorry this took me a sec to formulate post-work haha. i know we don't agree about sing but honestly that's the beauty of music opinions- I feel like it becomes easier to define what I like about things when faced with legit measured criticism anyway

for me, i want to start with the structure and instrumental since it's usually not mentioned (most of the criticisms of sing are exclusively lyrical or intention-focused). it's so cool. and evocative. and full of tension!! my favorite use of synth on danger days, plus the keys and the drums (man i love the dd studio musician drums lmao), really emphasizes sing as a suspended moment both in the album (necessary bridge, tonally, between bulletproof and planetary imo) and in the track itself- its alllll building up to that bridge and final chorus. but there's all these little pieces- the backing vocals, there's so many hidden guitar parts that riff just under all the noise, that opening like, tambourine. sorry for not having a quote on hand but Ray's said he really loved writing sing and it's so totally obvious to me. especially live- part of the reason I was soooooo excited for sing swarm tour edition is that even during dd ray was like absolutely shredding for sing after the bridge. and everytime time it's so good. part of the reason the lyrics don't bother me is sing could stand alone instrumentally and I'd still want to listen to it. (sing also reminds me of Ray's solo music- the sentiment is more significant that the lyrics and the music is itself a vehicle for storytelling)

also though, i think there's a lot of intention with sing (it's up to the listener to determine if that paid off obv) but within the context of dd the record as a pirate radio station, sing has always read as a trojan horse song. making it a single too, like once a song takes on a life of its own outside the record there's new meaning and circumstance. so both within and outside the killjoy universe sing is a vehicle for not just the bridge but the overall sentiment of dd (how fucking excited was gerard when glenn beck took the glee bait) like, yes, i do agree they could've benefited from another pass over the lyrics (i will always defend keeping "sing it till your nuts" bc its sounds like sing it to your nuts though) but I don't personally get the criticism that sing isn't "specific enough" about what exactly it's against or is too optimistic about "sing it for the world"-- i think there are songs on the album (notably planetary right after it!) which do that job just fine. dd is gerard in arguably top lyrical form so theres a lot of meat in the rest of the record like. sing it for the world is a purposely simplistic art is the weapon. like those are the same sentiments rendered very differently!

also like. i do think there was a very directed target at the younger part of their fan base here (girl/boy) which is sweet. to me. like i did hear sing first when i was a young teen (one of the few dd songs i was familiar with) and it did feel huge and empowering at that moment. my chem are their best when they are navigating the dualities of their specific fame, which includes simultaneously making very serious, adult rock music which is concerned with violence death grief and sex, as well as being a role model for younger people and taking them seriously and neither of these are in rhetorical conflict with each other. so like whatever sing is a little juvenile. but it's still filled with passion! taken as a legitimate project with a creative instrumental and a narratively-driven music video. I like that aspect, it works for me. I'll never call it my favorite my chem song but its certainly not the worst when you add in the bridge (i wanted to prove my point without the bridge but like. damn!! it's a good bridge!!!). that's my spiel.

#god this is long but thank you for the ask it made me think :)#like at the end of the day a great instrumental with subpar lyrics is going to beat out #a song with incredible lyrics and a bothersome instrumental bc that effects tone and meaning and listenability and impact #so i think sing is v easy for me to appreciate #my posts #angstics #igottheanswer

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brights-place · 13 days

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Hi, could I request a Riff x quiet shy reader?

Like, someone who has a passion for rock like Riff but is too shy to display their talent, but Riff loves them anyway despite their shyness (in fact he finds it cute)

(It can be fluff or Nsfw)

Riff X Introvert! S/O

Pairings: Riff X Reader

Warnings: Fluff, FOR MY FELLOW INTROVERTS!

A/N: Riff is so underrated like PLEASE! look at him he is so VGASJNVHWEHNB anyways I hope you enjoy this one I’m like contemplating my life choices lmaooo

- You and Riff were an iconic pair riff being sleezy and the mellow guy yet still being a little mischievous while you were relaxed, calm and didn't really have that much energy like other rock trolls! - How wrong was everyone! especially riff who thouht you were boring and not really a rock troll - but when he saw the passion you had while playing 'I am a poser' on your guitar he was wide eyed and enjoyed seeing you jam out - You were more introverted and riff would always be the one to speak up and have an arm around your shoulder or waist lazily - literally loves how shy you are but is also flustered at how badass you look when playing your instruments - He loves jamming out with you together as he enjoys seeing that wicked smile on your face as you do the rock n roll sign at the end of every song cheering about how good it was to be able to rock out with riff -Riff knew that even though you don't feel comfortable expressing aaround others that your always happy to just be around with yoru fellow rock trolls quietly headbanging scared that you would scare the other rock trolls - Riff loves to cuddle with you when they're alone and would smooch your cheek

- Only YOU! can wear his beanie and take it off of his face when your alone he enjoys it and would kiss you - Riff likes to tease you but always in a lighthearted way.

- Riff often seeks out your opinion and values your input in some situations because your his partner and wants to know how you would feel about what he does - Riff and you are always finding new bands to listen to and discovering new songs together to jam out too

- Riff loves that you have your very own little record collection full of both of your favorite albums

- Riff tries to help you get better with your social skills and be able to rock out with the others - After awhile though riff showed you how to get better at opening up - when barb and carol walked in on you headbanging and shouting the lyrics to a song riff was smiling that you were acutally rocking out happily - Thing is though riff didn't tell you he brought them over and the fact barb was so excited to see this side of you hell even carol was so happy! - Riff loves your small habit of asking him to drum to random songs you have heard while listening to music together

- Riff always encourages you to practice guitar and helps you with music theory and techniques well the techniques he was given by barb when he first tried to play guitar but failed and instead chose drums

- Both of you are always making your own music together jamming on guitar and drums and coming up with new tunes together happily

- When riff convinced you to jam out in public spaces and preform so he was happy that you accepted that idea after a while of contemplating you both occasionally perform at small live shows or open mic nights and are always have a great time and get a great reception

- He enjoys being with you no matter what and would like to help you be more open so when he succeeds he cheers to himself

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

#fluff #headcannons #x reader #trolls #trolls world tour #dreamworks trolls #fliff trolls #trolls band together #trolls riff #riff #riff trolls #trolls fanfiction #trolls fanfic #trolls movie #trolls world #Riff X Reader #Trolls Riff

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themusicistrue · 7 months

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Hozier’s music provides something most people can’t think to express by showing relationships as they truly are – healthy, flawed, hopeful, and fraught. He has an idyllic view of love expressed through symbolism, making you think and feel whether you know the context or not. Listening to Hozier’s lyrics is a deeply intimate experience, like looking through an old pane of glass. At times, a rediscovery of something once beautiful. And at others, a forgotten shard of love lost to time. Let’s examine love through those lyrics.

There’s not much of Hozier’s distinct lyrism in his self-titled first album (2014), but it has one of my favorite instances in the song “Jackie and Wilson.” The lyric “She blows out of nowhere, a roman candle of the wild,” as a girl we were taught to be quiet, and keep to ourselves, and not bother other people with our thoughts, or words. Hozier describes the woman he loves as a firework and he loves her all the more for it. He praises the parts that we have been taught to tamp down overtime.

Now moving on to his sophomore album “wasteland, baby!”(2018) has far more instances of him writing in this distinct style of him. The first track of him actively doing this style of song is in “Movement”. Hozier says the phrase “you are a call to motion”. He makes it all feel so full as if his Love is his world. He makes it seem as though just her moving, and doing something so normal like dancing can make him want to do better, and move with her. Later on in the song he says “Honey, you, you're Atlas in his sleepin'” in this he compares her to the titan atlas who is known for holding the weight of the world on his back. He makes her seem so effortless even holding up the world. He shows how she can move even under the weight of everything.

Now in the song “Would that I” touches more on the hard parts of love. He says “Though I've handled the wood, I still worship the flame”. In this the wood is a metaphor for trying to pick up yourself after leaving a relationship; while the flame is the relationship, something he knows might not end well but he still goes to it. He puts himself in the path of it and seeks it out actively. He also touches on this theme of wanting, and seeking out something that might be bad for you in “Wasteland, baby!” (the song that is) in the words “Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass”. He compares a small act of love to the end of the world as if they can somehow be connected. He brings out these small beautiful and yet heartbreaking parts of love so often.

Now in his most recent album “unreal unearth”(2023) he has completely perfected this type of song writing. Now in the song “First time” he gives the lyric “And the first time that you kissed me I drank dry the River Lethe”. This lyric is so special when you take a look at the moving parts of it. So the River Lethe in the under world made people forget when they drank from it. He compares kissing her to forgetting what makes his life tragic. All that pain willed away in one simple act of affection.

Yet another instance of him comparing the woman he loves to the world is in “I, Carrion (Icarian)” this whole song is a big metaphor of how these two people are so different. He is more flighty – able to leave and move around; where as she is anchored. In this way, he sees her in everything, everywhere. For example, in this lyric, he says, “Once I wondered what was holdin' up the ground. But I can see that all along, Love, it was you all the way down.” This lyric shows just how much he relies on her love. It is his foundation.

The most gut wrenching song he has ever made is “Franchesca”. It fully embraces the pain that love can bring you. It has the theme that when you do finally get to be together it doesn't always work perfectly or well. The most painful part of it is he says that through all the pain he’d continue it all he wants to still be together. In the lyric “I would still be surprised I could find you, darlin', in any life If I could hold you for a minute”. this song all has the pain that is so natural and true. It gives the full feeling of just how insane it is that you are able to find someone you click with.

Hozier sees the world the way it is, and yet makes it so beautiful. His world is hard, and harsh yet it still has an air of romanticism to it all. He uses metaphor to brake the walls simple words are confined to. He gives a warmth and normality to love often not voiced in words.

#hozier #wasteland baby #unreal unearth

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its-mysleepover · 2 years

Text

Backstage

idol!Yoongi x female!idol!Reader

genre: smut, established relationship

warnings: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex(don’t be silly wrap your willy), maybe public sex if you squint

word count: 2.7k

Summary: Inspired by the little video of Yoongi that this picture originates from. You’ve just performed your debut song at an end-of-year awards show, and your performance was a jaw-dropping, sexy performance that the crowd went wild for. When you head backstage to get changed, your boyfriend Yoongi intercepts you with other ideas in mind.

Author’s note: This is one of the first smutty one-shots I ever wrote, please be gentle :,)

Don’t be a silent reader <3 if you enjoy my work, plz consider giving a reblog or commenting :) and follow for new fics

~~~~~~~~~~

Cheers erupted from the sea of audience members as you hit your final pose and the spotlight went out on you, leaving your elegant silhouette stark against the scarlet lights behind you.

With no one able to see your face, you let yourself smile and try to catch your breath, even as your heart was pounding wildly against your chest and sweat was beginning to drip down your neck. You’d spent so much time perfecting your debut album, and the leading title track, where you’d stepped out of your comfort zone to sing and learn a sensual song and dance. And now, a few days before New Year’s, you were standing center stage with confetti falling over your hot, scantily-clad skin, with an arena full of people screaming for you, and you felt fucking fantastic.

One beat passed, then another, and even though the crowd was still going, you knew it was your time to exit once the spotline shone down on you once again. Quickly, you bowed, over and over, and waved to as many people as you could before you hurried backstage to make way for the next act. As soon as you stepped in, someone handed you a water bottle and patted your shoulder, congratulating you on the stellar performance. You thanked them, but immediately set off down the mostly empty hallway down to your dressing room. You were riding on an exhilarating wave of pride and excitement, and now that your audience was out of sight, you wanted to get dressed and wait for when you could meet with the one other person you wanted to share this moment with.

You reached the door with your name scribbled on a little sticker in the center, and turned the knob, and hardly stepped inside the brightly lit room before you were suddenly being pushed inside. The door shut and locked behind you.

“What the-” Hands that’d shoved you inside before grabbed your waist and spun you around, and there he was holding you. Yoongi. Breathless and already leaning in to press his lips against yours.

You kissed him back, but then placed your hands on his chest and leaned back slightly, giggling when you saw him try to once again capture your lips in his. You were still slowly coming down from the high that you’d just been on.

“Hey, I was just coming to find you!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, teasing the edges of his hair, and he pulled you closer. “What did you think?” you asked giddily.

Yoongi smirked. “What did I think?” His grip tightened, and before you could process it, he had you pressed up against the concrete wall next to your vanity, the cold seeping through your thin clothes. Then he shifted, and suddenly, with his hardened bulge pressing right up against you through the fabric you both wore, you became very aware of what exactly he wanted. What effect you had on him.

He pressed himself closer to you and started pressing slow, gentle kisses against the side of your neck, starting at your collarbone and moving up to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You sighed and gripped his hair, unconsciously tilting your head to give him more access.

“God baby, I’m so fucking proud of you,” he whispered lowly right in your ear, “But do you know what it was like having to sit in that audience? Listening to you sing with that sexy voice of yours about what we do in bed?” He bit your earlobe and you bit back a moan as you felt yourself soaking your panties. Yoongi knew exactly what you liked, what made you tick. Both of you did.

“You know what it was like having to watch you grind against the air for everyone?” And just as the words left him, you gripped his shoulder and grinded down on his bulge, and he moaned right next to your ear. He moved away from your neck to face you again.

“Did you want me grinding against you instead?” You asked teasingly, your voice lowering ever so slightly. He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped as you moved your finger to trace his lips with the tip of your polished nail. “Or were you hoping we’d do something else?”

“Only if you want to.” A sensitive glint passed through in his eyes, almost a stark contrast to the hungry way he was looking at you before.

A moment passed, both of you looking at each other with your lips parted and your breaths mingling together. Then you pulled Yoongi down to you and crashed your mouth to his, and both of you let go of any restraint you’d had.

His hands flew down to grab your thighs, squeezing once in a silent ask before you jumped up and wrapped yourself around his strong waist. Your fingers tangled in his brown hair once again as you kissed him with everything you had, licking his lips so you could slip your tongue into his mouth. Yoongi rolled his hips into yours and let out a guttural moan into his mouth.

You kept kissing each other, deep and hot with tongues twisting around each other, while rolling your hips together and getting some kind of friction. But then you felt Yoongi’s hand move from underneath your thigh to the edge of your black shorts, slowly moving his fingers towards the black zipper. He began unzipping your shorts. Without breaking the kiss, you dropped to your feet again and he quickly pulled down your shorts and underwear, exposing your bare pussy to the cold of the room. A shiver ran down your back.

Reluctantly, Yoongi separated from you, a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips. “I only have a thirty minute break, so we don’t have too much time left.” He cupped your face with one hand, with such a loving look in his eyes for the sexual tension between you two. “I’ll still do something for you though,” he rasped. And he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Yeah?” You breathed, the words escaping you. All you could focus on was Yoongi’s lips now pressing against the inside of your thigh, his tongue poking out and almost licking your skin, as he made his way up to your now-throbbing pussy. Yoongi brushed his hair back and looked up at you with a knowing grin. “All this because of me?”

“You know damn well it’s because of you,” you laughed lightly, but it turned into a whiney moan when you felt Yoongi’s lips wrapping around your clit, giving a tight suck.

“You won’t be laughing now baby,” he whispered right against you, before leaning further and trailing his tongue through your wet folds before landing on your clit again, licking it reverently. His hands trailed up from your thighs and gripped your ass cheeks as he moved to sucking again, and he used the grip he had on you to bring you impossibly closer to his mouth. You moaned loudly and uncontrollably, not caring if anyone heard since you knew the halls outside would be rid of people.

You were sweating at this point, trying not to grind into Yoongi’s mouth and chase your slowly building orgasm. Yoongi let go of your clit, and you were about to look down and scold him before you felt his tongue sticking out again, sliding against you and teasing your entrance, before shoving his tongue into your core.

“Fuck!” You moaned and couldn’t help but start moving against Yoongi’s tongue, feeling the muscle go taut inside you. You could feel your climax building rapidly, your walls pulsating around his tongue. You kept grinding onto him, so close to release, and then one of Yoongi’s hands let go of your ass and flew to your clit, his finger rubbing slow circles.

“I’m coming- fuck!” Your orgasm hit you hard, a wave of pleasure washing over you and your knees buckling. You felt Yoongi smile against your core, and gripping your legs, he kept going, trying to help you through your orgasm, but all it did was make you hungry for more.

Your hands flew down, one to his wrist and one to his hair, and you tugged on both. Yoongi stopped his ministrations and looked up at you, and you had to try to not get distracted by the wetness glistening on his lips.

“Get up,” you demanded. Yoongi smirked and heeded, and once he was at eye level, you grabbed his face with both hands and slammed your mouth to his in a heated kiss. He reciprocated immediately, slipping his tongue in your mouth. Your hands went down to his neck and collarbone, and you started backing him into the leather couch on the other side of the room, stepping out of your forgotten shorts and panties as you went. Yoongi knew exactly what you were doing and didn’t protest, his hands moving all over you, from the bare skin of your midriff to your ass to your still-covered breasts.

The back of his knees hit the couch with a thud, and without warning, you pulled away and pushed him down. Yoongi smiled salaciously up at you, his hands immediately grasping your hips when you went to straddle him, naked from the waist down. Yoongi’s eyes raked down your body, and a warm feeling bloomed inside you at the reminder that he saw you as such a beautiful being.

“We don’t have a lot of time, Y/N,” he whispered reluctantly. He moved his hands up to your breasts, brushing his fingers over the fabric in a way that seemed like he wanted to tear it off you. You glanced at the clock mounted on the wall, even though you had no idea when he’d come in here and how long it’d been. Yoongi’s warm hand reached up to tilt your head back to him in silent question. In response, you reached down and your palm met his bulge, Yoongi’s mouth opened in a silent gasp.

“We can be quick,” you promised. Without a second thought, Yoongi pulled you to him and kissed you again and again, and you started working on his jeans, unzipping them and pulling them down ever so slightly. His hands were still grasping your waist and hair when your hand wrapped around the base of his rock hard cock, and Yoongi groaned, biting your lip. You pulled out his dick, and Yoongi leaned back to watch your hand wrap around the base. Knowing you couldn’t draw this out as long as you wanted to, you started quickly pumping up and down Yoongi’s long cock, and he started keening to you instantly. Suddenly, his hips thrust up to meet your hand and he groaned. “Get on me now, please!” He begged.

Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly and you let him hold onto your hips and position you over his throbbing cock. Carefully, you settled yourself down onto him, both of you moaning when he bottomed out. Yoongi grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you down to kiss you just once, which you barely got to reciprocate before he let go and his hands traveled down your torso, squeezed your ass, and moved to grip your hips tight enough to bruise. You shivered at the way he licked his lips when glancing at where you two connected. He looked up at you. “You ready baby?” You nodded and squeezed his shoulders.

Yoongi thrust up into you and you moaned, his long dick barely grazing your g-spot. He took full control with no signs of letting up, continuously thrusting into your wet pussy and moaning in unison with you, his deep voice a stark contrast to the wet slapping noises filling the room.

You were getting close, already sensitive from your previous orgasm. You whined as Yoongi slowed down ever so slightly. When you looked down at him, his lips parted and panting, he locked his eyes to yours and held your gaze as one hand left your hip and circled back to your front. You watched as his thumb set itself on your clit and started rubbing in circles, and immediately you cried out and felt yourself climbing closer to the edge. Yoongi was still watching you, and without a word, you started bouncing yourself on his cock and he hissed. The two of you stayed like that for a while longer; you riding him and chasing your orgasm, your head tilted as you whined and moaned Yoongi’s name, and Yoongi with one hand focused on your clit and the other on your hip, him chanting your name like a fucking prayer.

“Yoongi, I’m so close!” You almost shouted, trying to hold yourself back since there were still a handful of people outside.

“I know baby - me too,” he groaned, his movements getting rushed and sloppy. You could feel the knot in your stomach on the verge of unraveling, you were so close to getting what you wanted and you rode Yoongi as hard as you could chasing your high. He circled your clit once more and you snapped.

“Yoongi!” You fell forward, your head on his shoulder and you shut your eyes for a moment. You were suddenly very aware of how sweaty Yoongi was under his top, how your pussy kept squeezing his dick tightly and how his hands held onto your hips as he thrust up once, twice, three times before he shouted your name and you felt his hot cum coating your walls. Lazily, you kept moving your hips above him, trying to get every last drop out of him. When Yoongi let out an unusually high-pitched whine, you leaned up again and faced him. His face was red and sweaty, but the smile he gave you now was so full of love. Both of you leaned in and pecked each other on the lips, before you carefully used his shoulders as a balance again and lifted up off his softened dick, collapsing next to him on the couch. You were still looking at each other, trying to catch your breath, when you caught sight of the clock behind Yoongi.

“Yoongi,” you inquired softly, “when were you supposed to be back?”

His eyes widened in panic and he whipped his head to look behind him. “Shit!” he cried. Yoongi hopped off the couch and scrambled to zip his jeans back up. You couldn’t even lift a finger to help before he had his belt through the loops and was trying to buckle it while making his way to the door. Though you weren’t in that much of a rush since you were exhausted and it hadn’t hit yet why he needed to be back so soon.

He wrapped his hand around the doorknob, then looked back at you laying on the couch with an innocent-looking grin as you stared up at him.

“I promise you, when this whole thing is over, we’re going to get home and I will congratulate you properly. I love you!” He smiled at you sheepishly, then yanked the door open without a second look back.

“I love you!” You shouted back before the door closed on its own. You could hear Yoongi’s pounding footsteps echoing through the hall, and couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of it all.

You leaned back on the couch and sighed, taking in the quiet of the room. You were coming down from your high and you were exhausted, but so relaxed. Then you spotted your discarded shorts and panties on the other side of the room, and you decided you could put on the tight clothing one more time tonight for a quick check-in.

Quickly, you stepped over the pile and slid on your bottoms. You then left the dressing room and sped through the same hallway you heard Yoongi run down, grateful for the fact that there didn’t seem to be any staff or crew around this area.

Just as you reached the entrance to the idols’ section of the audience, you spotted Yoongi sitting with the rest of the band, and noticed how he tried to discreetly tuck his striped shirt back into his pants while the rest of the crowd was clapping for someone. You smiled at knowing the effect you had on him, unaware of the camera that had also seen and captured Yoongi’s moment.

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