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rip-quizilla · 10 months

Text

Eat Me

Pairing: Older!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Popstar!Reader

Summary: (TLDR: you perform with Corroded Coffin, act like a brat the whole time, and Eddie makes you pay for it.) Two years after your hiatus from the music industry, you're back and all grown up now. After collaborating with early 2000's metal sensation Corroded Coffin for several songs off your new album, you debut the new tracks live in a surprise performance with the band during their tour- and the tension between you and frontman Eddie Munson is so thick, you're barely able to keep your pants on throughout the set. (Songs referenced are by Demi Lovato from her album HOLY FVCK, which inspired this fic. I highly suggest listening to the songs "Eat Me" and "Freak" while they're performed in the story for the complete experience!)

Word Count: 14K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, age gap (reader is 27, Eddie is 47), Reader is a brat (Eddie can handle it), fingering, squirting, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap up!!), light degradation, reader has blue hair, reader is a grown-up child star, for the purposes of this fic Corroded Coffin started in the 90s instead of 80s for timeline reasons

🖤🖤🖤

You had no fucking clue what you were doing.

It had been two years since you’d put out music. Two. Years. That’s enough time for a person’s relevance to crawl into a hole and die, which is something you had been strongly considering doing for the duration of those two years.

It was a tale as old as time- child star grows up. Child star is not a child anymore, but the world only wants the star to be a child, so if the star wants to keep being a star, they do not. grow. up.

But you grew up, and guess what happened?

The world hated you for it.

So you stopped trying to be a star. You’d dropped off the face of the earth and deleted every social media app from your phone. You’d bought a house in the mountains, and thanks to modern technologies like Amazon and DoorDash, you basically never had to leave. It was a little scary how easily you had become a hermit living in a cabin in the woods. Your life quickly became a never ending cycle of reading, binge-watching tv, and dying/cutting your hair whenever the mood struck (The latest spontaneous color change had left you with a surprisingly pretty shade of faded blue).

It was easy, running away… until it caught up with you.

After all, at your core you had always been a performer. From your first audition at five years old to your big break at twelve, to the first album you’d put out on your television network’s record label- you had always been a person who had something to say and craved an audience to hear it. When your audience had turned on you, it had jolted your rhythm enough that you forgot the words to a song you’d been singing as long as you could remember.

It had taken you a couple years, but eventually you figured out that when you play the same song on repeat for long enough, it gets old.

So you wrote a new song.

To be more precise, you wrote a whole album. Literally.

Some of the songs were composed, some still needed a tune, but the message of the album was clear: I’m not that little girl on your TV screen anymore. You don’t have to like it, but you sure as hell can’t change it.

The minute you’d figured that out, you’d called your team. Once they understood the direction your career was headed, they helped get everything in order for your re-entry into the fray that had driven you out in the first place.

There was only one part of the album that made you nervous.

I know two years doesn’t seem like that long, your agent had said, but the public eye doesn’t have a very impressive attention span. You only have half of the album composed, right? This is the perfect opportunity to make the other half of the songs collaborations with artists that are in the public eye!

The idea made sense. Their popularity helps you, and if the songs go over well, then it helps the other artists too. The only issue was that these songs were way more vulnerable than what you used to write… hell, half the songs you’d recorded before your hiatus were written by whatever run of the mill joe schmo had gotten the kid-friendly execs’ stamp of approval. Even when you’d split from the network after turning twenty-three, you’d kept your songs strictly PG-rated since you knew the majority of your audience were minors. These new songs, though…

You weren’t an idiot. The themes of these songs were not subtle. Anyone who listened to these new songs was going to see a side of you that wasn’t all that pretty. Were you ready for that? Were you ready to bare that darkness to not only the world, but to other artists who meant to help you make music out of it?

Your anxiety about the album had gotten even worse when your agent had given you the list of potential collaborators.

One song that you were particularly proud of called “Eat Me” had some very metal undertones to it, so you’d told your agent that you’d like to collaborate with a metal band or artist to compose the music that would match the lyrics. Almost immediately, your agent had suggested a collaboration with Corroded Coffin.

The band had been HUGE when you were a kid, topping charts throughout your childhood and making a name for themselves as one of the most culturally relevant turn-of-the-century metal bands. Even now, they were a household name. Your older brother had been a huge fan, so you’d actually listened to their music quite a lot growing up. They weren’t some random collaboration- if Corroded Coffin read your lyrics (which were basically your soul laid out on display) and thought they were shit? It might just send you spiraling right back to your cabin in the mountains.

You had been equal parts thrilled and terrified when your agent told you they’d agreed to collaborate on the song.

Currently, you were sitting in your home-away-from-home, a cozy apartment that you rented on a month-to-month basis whenever you needed to be in New York, which just so happened to be where Eddie Munson, lead singer/guitarist of Corroded Coffin had asked to meet with you. It was your album, so you had invited him to come to your place and discuss his ideas for the song. You shifted nervously on your couch and glanced at the time on your phone. He was ten minutes late- that shouldn’t bother you, a lot of musicians had a habit of running late. Just because you didn’t subscribe to that stereotype didn’t mean you had to judge him for doing the opposite.

When you finally heard the buzz of your doorbell, you practically hopped off the couch. You peeped through the little door viewer to catch a glimpse before you had to look one of your childhood heroes in the eye. You… you hadn’t been adequately prepared to see this.

Eddie Munson had been attractive in his hay day- you could admit that. You’d seen the pictures of him on their album covers, the press photos, the magazines… he had always been cute in a scruffy sort of way. You hadn’t bothered Googling what he looked like now, which you were currently regretting since you had not been adequately prepared for the father of all DILFs to be standing on your doorstep.

After doing some quick math, you came to the conclusion that Eddie Munson must be in his mid to late forties at this point. His hair was still long and curly and thick as hell, but you noticed other details that you distinctly remembered were not present on the album covers you remember from your brother’s CD collection- dark, whiskery shadow along his cheeks and jawline. Tattoos creeping up from the collar of the crew neck shirt he wore, as well as every inch of his arms. A nose ring. Smile lines. Soft creases forming between thick brown eyebrows.

Eyebrows drawing together in confusion because you weren’t opening the door.

Shit. You inhaled sharply and hastily made to open the door. Breathe, you instructed yourself, taking a moment to blow out a semi-relaxing breath before turning the doorknob and plastering on your best entertainment industry smile.

“Hi!” you said, a little too peppy- you knew you sounded too peppy because the rockstar in front of you actually flinched when your high-pitched sorority girl voice slapped him in the face. “Sorry, I think I’m a little caffeine-riddled, I just finished my third cup of coffee.” You said apologetically, swinging the door open wider for him to step through the threshold into your apartment.

“Too many frappuccinos there, huh popstar?” His voice… if it hadn’t been so condescending, you might have melted on the spot. Your pride, however, had to argue with your clenching thighs.

“Uhm, no-” you laughed, keeping your voice airy as you shut the door and leaned back on it to ensure it was closed. “-just cold brew, rockstar.” You couldn’t help but add that quip at the end, seeing how he had just called you popstar like it was the same as calling someone a pussy or a wimp. What was his deal?

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest, and then turned back as if you hadn’t said anything at all. He simply sauntered through the hallway to your living room, where you had laid all the necessary materials for your composing process across the coffee table- but he wasn’t looking at that. He seemed to be inspecting your walls, the decor, the old pictures that sat in frames on your floating shelves, the records you had displayed above your turntable. His eyes surveyed everything like he was a judge at a fucking science fair, and your heart was starting to race as you started to irrationally wonder if you fell short of his expectations or something.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat to get his attention.

He turned to face you, irritation flashing across his expression like a cloud blowing past the sun. You took a breath. Calm down, you chided yourself mentally, he’s probably just a prick, don’t take it personally. Be professional.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You chirped politely, to which he smirked and shook his head.

“Don’t trouble yourself, sweetheart.”

You bristled; sweetheart? Who did he think he was, Don Draper? Was this the 1950’s? Were you his fucking secretary? Your blood pressure rose by the second.

“Hm.” you respond, chewing your lip to keep a snarky response to yourself. “Well, we can go ahead and get started if you want.” You gestured to the pages strewn across the coffee table. Notebook pages with your lyrics written out in black pen, empty pages of sheet music that you planned to fill out with a melody to coincide with your words as the morning went on. Your acoustic guitar sat securely in its stand beside the couch, eagerly awaiting your hands to make the message in your music come alive.

Munson sunk into the cushions of your leather couch, manspreading enough to make you feel like a guest in your own apartment. His forearms rested on the thighs of his ripped charcoal jeans as he surveyed the pages before him. He grabbed the notebook page full of lyrics first, chuckling when he saw the title.

“Eat Me, huh?” he raised an eyebrow at you, and the way he was holding the page between the two of you left only the top half of his face visible from where you sat. You noted that Eddie Munson had extremely expressive eyes. “That’s a pretty evocative title for such a squeaky-clean ‘lil diva.”

Your brow furrowed. “That’s kind of the point.” Using your pointer finger to pull the page down, the bottom half of the rockstar’s face coming into view and spiking your blood pressure again when you saw that fucking smirk still on his face.

That’s it. This guy is an ass.

“Maybe my agent didn’t accurately portray my vision for this album,” you said, struggling to grit out the words without coming across angry. “If that’s the case, I’m very sorry we got our wires crossed.”

Ready to listen, Munson leaned back into your couch and crossed one booted foot over his knee, an arm thrown across the top of your couch cushions. The picture of nonchalance.

Cocky bastard.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I haven’t put any music out in over two years.” you began. “This isn’t just a new album for me- it's more like a debut album for the new direction I want to take my career in. Up until now, I’ve been portraying a very different side of myself that…if I’m being honest, it wasn’t really me. It was childish and immature and I…”

You huffed out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “-I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep being a kid, I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old, for god’s sake.” the rockstar’s eyebrows jumped up at hearing your expletive, obviously amused.

What the fuck? Here you were, being vulnerable with a complete stranger, and he thought it was amusing? You half expected him to laugh, but you brushed past it and decided to ignore this asshole being even more of an asshole.

“What I’m trying to say is this is a very personal album for me. It’s very different from what I’ve been putting out, and that is very much the point. Does that make sense?”

You watched as he slowly nodded his head, mulling over your words. “So…it’s like a coming of age thing?” he ventured, “Like, ‘little girl’s all grown up and sexy now’ all that?” his mouth turned up at one corner. “How very Miley Cyrus of you, sweetheart.”

You scoffed, physically recoiling a bit. “Are you being serious right now?” you balked.

He shrugged.

Oh, you fumed, that is it. Fuck this guy.

You stood from the couch, finally snapping after holding yourself back from giving this asshat a piece of your mind. “What is your problem?” Munson’s smirk faded a bit, but his smug air remained intact as he stared up at you.

“Look sweetheart-”

“No.” you cut him off, stopping him with a hand in the air. “Stop calling me sweetheart like you know me or like that isn’t a condescending fucking way to speak to someone. You have done nothing but talk down to me since you walked through that door, so no, you do not get to talk to me like that, I don’t care how famous you are.”

There wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face now, and you took pride in that. Maybe there was a conscience in there somewhere that was telling him I told you so right now.

You took the page from his hands and held it up for emphasis. “If you had just read my fucking song before making assumptions, then maybe you would have understood that this song is actually a social commentary on people like you who assume the direct trajectory of a child star’s career is to go from cute and childish to sexy ‘girls gone wild’ or whatever the fuck.” you spat, practically shaking the paper in your hand. “I’m allowed to grow into whoever I damn well please, and that’s exactly what this song is about. If I want to write a song about sex- and I’ve written a few, they’re on the fucking album- I’ll write them because that’s what I want to write! I’m not doing it for shock value or because I like attention; hell, I’ve been a literal hermit in the woods for two years, I don’t give a fuck about attention!”

You finally paused to breathe, and you knew your eyes must look absolutely insane because the man before you genuinely looked terrified.

Steeling yourself, you inhaled and exhaled slowly, attempting to push down some of that hysteria. “Sorry.” you bit, “Didn’t mean to unload all that on you. It’s just… this song is a part of me, and you just belittled it without even reading past the title.” You looked him directly in those big brown eyes and thought- hoped- for a second that you saw understanding in his gaze. “That was shitty. I’m not letting other people make me feel like shit anymore.”

When you were finished, silence took over. It settled over the room like a reprieve from a short but heavy rainfall before the sun showed itself again. Suddenly, Eddie Munson stood from your couch and marched to your door, letting himself out with a sharp click of your doorknob latching closed.

Okay. That went well. The lead singer of one of the most famous metal bands just came to your apartment, got yelled at, and ran away. You were just starting to ponder how you would explain this one to your publicist before you heard a knock at your door. Tentatively, you opened it- you didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was.

Eddie Munson stood at your door wearing an expression that you hadn’t seen yet today- he looked open, compassionate, and sorry. One hand in his pocket with the other outstretched, tattoos winding up the expanse of skin, rings glinting light from the sconces on either side of your door. He was offering his hand.

Smiling slightly, you accepted his gesture. You grasped his ink-scarred hand, feeling the cold metal of his rings press against your skin as you shook it. “It’s lovely to meet you-” he said your name softly, and you realized that when he had entered your apartment earlier, you hadn’t even exchanged pleasantries. Hadn’t introduced yourselves, almost as if fame got rid of the need for normal human introductions. Now, here he was, remedying that.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Munson,” you said, voice less chipper than it had been when the two of you originally stood in these same spots. “I’m a huge fan.”

He winced at ‘Mr.’, clapping his other hand over yours tightly. “Please, for the love of god, don’t call me Mr. Munson.” his big brown eyes pleaded with you. “Call me Eddie.”

Your smile widened as you nodded. “Eddie.” you repeated. “Is this you telling me we’re starting over?”

He let go of your hand, and you felt a sudden chill as the warmth of his skin left yours. “If that’s alright with you?” he replied softly, turning up the end of his sentence like a question.

Instead of saying yes, you simply stepped back to make room for him in your hallway. With a pleasant grin on your lips, you gestured for him to step inside. “Let’s get started, then.”

After sitting down on the couch once more, Eddie took the sheet of notebook paper on which you’d scrawled a part of your soul written in verse and began to read intently. Leaving him to digest the song completely (also because you felt awkward sitting there in silence as he read your work) you left to grab two water bottles from the kitchen. When you returned, he had already grabbed a fresh sheet of notebook paper and begun jotting down notes.

You placed the bottles on coasters, bracing yourself for the criticism that you knew was coming-

“You were right.”

Huh?

You craned your neck to see what he had written on the notebook paper. “About what?”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Eddie yanked the paper out of your line of sight. “About this song, it’s completely different from what I’d assumed you would write. Actually,” he grinned. “-it’s kinda fucking metal.”

You smiled, once again reaching for the page. “Then let me see what you wrote-”

“I’m not finished yet, keep your panties on.”

The two of you worked for hours that afternoon, Eddie suggesting lines and chords as you wrote corresponding notes and chords on your sheet music. It didn’t take long for you to grab the acoustic guitar and begin strumming out portions of the song until it was finished.

Both of you agreed it was something to be proud of.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie stuttered before exiting your apartment that evening, when you were both happy with the work you’d done for the day. “I hope you know how sorry I am for being such an ass when I got here earlier-”

You shrugged, any traces of anger melted away at this point. “Eh.” you smirked. “You made up for it. That song might be my favorite on the album now, honestly, I meant it when I said I was a fan of yours- wouldn’t have trusted it with anyone else.”

He smiled at you warmly. “I’m honored to have such a talented fan.” The door was open, but he wasn’t leaving yet. Instead, Eddie stood with his tattooed arms crossed over his chest leaning his weight to one shoulder against the doorway. “I mean it though, you’re a talented songwriter. If you want to collaborate on any other songs, just say the word and I’m back here.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

He nodded, “Dead serious.”

Smiling excitedly, you ran to your notebook, flipping through the pages until you found what you were looking for. You looked up at Eddie, a knowing grin on your lips. “Remember those songs about sex I mentioned?”

***

The original plan for your album had been to collaborate with multiple artists for about fifty percent of your album, while the other fifty percent would only feature you. What ended up happening was slightly different.

The more songs Eddie saw, the more passionate he became about the message you were working to convey through your lyrics. He ended up reworking every single song with you in a completely collaborative process, where he never overstepped, never tried to take over- simply understood what you were trying to say and added the extra ‘oomph’ each song had been needing to truly become what you had envisioned.

“I feel like I really can’t just call this my album now, Eddie, you’ve contributed way more to this to just be credited as a featured artist-”

You’d first voiced concerns about how to credit Eddie in the album a few days into your songwriting spree. It became an easy routine, Eddie would come over first thing in the morning, and the two of you would sit in your living room working through your songs and ordering takeout until the sun set.

“Well it’s not a collaboration album with Corroded Coffin,” Eddie had replied, sticking a bite of noodles into his mouth. The two of you had been seated at your kitchen table, white boxes of Chinese food, napkins, and torn chopstick wrappers decorating the space between you. “Those fuckers haven’t even met you, they don’t get credit for anything they ain’t playing on.”

“But I’m talking about you.” you pushed, “If we keep going the way we’ve been, you’re going to be a vital part of the composition for every track on this album! I’m not going to let you avoid credit for that.” you gazed at him, unable to hide the admiration you’d begun to feel for the artist at your table. “Let me list you as a composer for every track you help me with. We already know you and your band will be featured on Eat Me and Freak, so obviously you’ll be credited for those…”

As you continued to ramble on about how Eddie would be credited for each and every song lyric he suggested, he got distracted looking at the way your hair glinted slightly different shades of blue in the sunlight that filtered in through your balcony window. His eyes followed the light along your skin, taking in the way it glistened off the dewey shine on your cheekbone, how it shone directly into the corner of your eye so that colors he had never noticed were brought to the surface of your irises…

This wasn’t the first time that Eddie had gotten distracted watching you rant about something you were passionate about. He knew he was supposed to be listening, that it was very important that he knew what your songs were about, that he understood the details of your plans for the album so that you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself later- but dammit, you were just so pretty. Really fucking pretty, it was hard for him not to get distracted. Initially, this whole collaboration had just been something that Eddie’s publicist had suggested for getting the newer generation listening to Corroded Coffin in time for their new album to drop at the end of the summerl, so when Eddie had first waltzed into your apartment he’d been expecting a kid; an innocent, teeny-bopper sort of persona. He hadn’t expected a loud, firecracker of a woman with hair the color of his old denim jacket.

Eddie wasn’t an idiot. He was well aware that he was old enough to be your father. You were what- twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? Definitely under thirty. And here he was, pushing forty-seven with a salt and pepper shadow on his jawline. The hair on his head hadn’t started graying yet (he dreaded the day that he would have to use *gulp* hair dye) but he knew it was only a matter of time. For him to be ogling you like this? It would probably make you uncomfortable if you knew how often his eyes forgot to look away when you left the room. What was that old saying? Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave-

“Eddie?”

Shit. He’d missed an entire conversation, hadn’t he?

He gave you his best apologetic smile, which didn’t work at all. You sighed, hanging your head low exasperatedly. “You didn’t hear a word of that did you?”

“Not a word, zoned out.”

You threw a fortune cookie at him.

***

You and Eddie didn’t see each other for a while after recording the album. Eddie was there with the rest of Corroded Coffin to record the two tracks that they were featured in for the album, but after that plus a few guitar parts Eddie had been kind enough to record for some other songs, the two of you hadn’t had a reason to see each other.

That was why you were so nervous for tonight.

After working all summer and the better part of the fall, the album was finally finished. Copies of CDs and special edition vinyl were already being shipped out to music stores across the country and set to hit shelves in a week, so tonight was the kickoff event for your publicity tour: you would be joining Corroded Coffin tonight onstage for a surprise performance of Eat Me and Freak. Tonight was October 31st, and premiering those songs on Halloween with the metal king that helped you make them the masterpieces they were? This was just one of those moments when the stars aligned poetically.

You looked yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before heading to sound check. It had been a couple of months since you’d seen Eddie, but that wouldn’t matter, right? You’d spent a whole week workshopping incredibly personal- in some cases, intimately personal- songs with the guy, so singing onstage with him shouldn’t be a big deal. You were a professional, so it didn’t matter that you hadn’t performed in over two years, you could do this. Never mind the fact that this was the first performance of the rest of your career; never mind that sometimes the way Eddie looked at you make you feel like your knees were about to buckle; never mind that Eddie Munson, rock god and sex symbol of the metal world, was going to be within touching distance the moment you set foot on that stage…

A knock at the door of your tiny dressing room startled you, along with a voice letting you know that sound check was about to begin. Decisively, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the stage before you could psych yourself out any more.

When you got to the stage, Eddie was the first person you laid eyes on. He smiled at you, dark curls flying around his face and forming a sinful-looking halo around his face as he gave you a friendly nod- god, he was gorgeous. Waving back at him, you returned the nod and grinned. You wouldn’t be going on until the end of their set, so you situated yourself on an empty stool backstage with a view of the band.

Their practice was fascinating to watch, how all four of the band members were so obviously masters of their craft, each ear trained to notice any imperfection in the way their instruments sounded through the stereos. Every once in a while, Eddie would look your way out the corner of his eye, just to check if you were still watching; you always were. Whenever he saw you looking directly at him, never glancing down at your phone or at the other band members (besides the odd look thrown in Gareth Emerson’s direction; the way his curls bounced was honestly hypnotic), he’d hold your eye contact, smirk into the microphone, and continue to belt out the lyrics to his songs with a smidge more cockiness than he had been prior.

When the time finally came for you to join them, you took a deep breath and strutted to where Eddie stood in the center of the stage. No one had handed you a mic, so you weren’t sure where you were supposed to stand until Eddie moved aside to make room for you at his mic stand.

You looked questioningly at Eddie. “You don’t need your mic?”

He chuckled, placing a hand on the small of your back as he put his lips to your ear. You figured he was just trying to avoid the mic picking up his voice, but the hand on your back… that was new. Was this a move? Was Eddie Munson making a move? On you?

Oh.

That’s a fun development.

“This one’s all you, darlin’.” Eddie said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’ll stay out of your way. Also-” He pulled away enough to look you in the eyes, and your lips must have been a little too close to the mic because it picked up your fucking gasp. You jerked your head away from the mic, cursing yourself for being so nervous.

Eddie definitely noticed, but all he did was chuckle, still staring at you with giant doe eyes framed by smile lines and bushy brown eyebrows. “-it’s good to see you, popstar.” There was no condescension in his tone this time; all you could find in his gaze was kind, genuine joy that you were here, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Confidently, you gripped the mic with both hands, smirking at Eddie through your side eye. You didn’t bother leaning away from the mic when you replied, sprinkling sultry into your voice. If Eddie Munson was trying to drop a hint, you wanted him to know you were receiving it.

“It’s good to see you too, rockstar.”

***

Mic check went flawlessly, which meant it was time for you and the band to eat in the green room while fans began lining up outside the venue, waiting for the doors to open.

You had a couple drinks with the band while biding your time before you had to get dressed for the show. Much to your delight, Eddie never left your side the whole time. You had been close to him in your living room day after day when you’d worked on your songs, but this was different; you kept noticing little glances and touches that spoke louder than words- how his hands lingered longer than expected, never missing a chance to touch your arm or place a hand on your back to guide you as you walked. How his eyes were most focused whenever he was looking at you, and he never seemed to give you passing glances- every look he gave you was intense and purposeful, it made you shiver in a very good way. When he and the band left to get ready for showtime, he took a moment to check on how you were before leaving to go to his dressing room.

“You nervous?” he asked. There wasn’t any judgment there, just concern for you.

“Yes,” you admitted, “But I think I’ve got it.”

Eddie smiled widely, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you tightly. “Oh I know you’ve got it, angel.”

You caught his wrist, holding it to your shoulder before he could retract it. Turning to him, you batted your eyes a bit before raising an eyebrow. “Angel, huh?”

Eddie inclined his head, eyes narrowing flirtatiously. “What, should I switch back to sweetheart?”

You smirked. “Only if you wanna make me mad.”

It took everything in you not to shrink back from him as he leaned forward, practically glowering over you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but must have decided against it. You saw his tongue poke into the inside of his cheek as he nodded to himself, eyes narrowing further as if he were having a whole conversation within his head that you weren’t privy to. Finally, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and you let him go, staring at him with every ounce of confidence you could muster.

“...I’ll remember that, popstar.” he said, voice low and gravelly and sure to throw you into a coma if he said the right words with that voice at the right time. You didn’t let him see how much he was affecting you, though- save for a little grin that you couldn’t hide as he smirked at you and walked away.

When he exited the green room- and you were sure you were alone- you finally let out a breath that you’d been holding for what seemed like entire minutes. You grabbed your drink, chugging down the rest of your liquid courage in the hopes that it might also cool you down a bit.

***

The cheers from the crowd were deafening, and the gravity of what was about to happen was starting to get to you.

Corroded Coffin was about to start the song that would be your cue to join them. You stood in the wings like you had during sound check, this time fussing over your outfit to ensure every piece was in place. The fact that it was Halloween combined with the tone of your new album had influenced your wardrobe choice for the evening- ripped black jeans that were more rip than jean, a strappy black bustier top with a plethora of silver buckles that decorating the surface of your bodice where the sides attached at your sternum, fishnet fingerless gloves, and your favorite part of the outfit: the biggest platform boots you’d ever owned. You remembered seeing them and falling in love immediately with the straps that decorated the entirety of the shoe, as well as the silver buckles on each strap that matched your top like a dream. Paired with your blue hair, you looked strikingly goth and nearly unrecognizable from the girl your fans remembered.

When Eddie announced you onstage, you had to take a deep breath before joining him out there. Slow inhale, slow exhale… and then you were overtaken with hot stage lights.

Out on the stage, you could really take in the size of this crowd- it was far larger than what you were used to, and when they realized who you were, they went wild. You couldn’t help but be intimidated until you felt Eddie’s hand gently grounding you as it ghosted the skin on your back.

His lips tickled your ear as he leaned in and whispered in your ear out of range from the mic, “Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart.”

You felt a flare of indignation intertwined with delight, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little evilly into the mic at this little shit of a rockstar.

He did that on purpose.

You looked at him with the biggest smirk on your face, and it matched the smug, sultry grin on his. Silently, he nodded at the audience as if to say ‘Well? They’re waiting.’

You looked over your shoulder at Jeff on the bass, nodded, and right on cue as Jeff began the first note of the song, the entire stage was flooded with scarlet light.

***

Eddie could tell you were nervous. Flirting with you probably wasn’t helping, and for all he knew, he might even be making you uncomfortable.

However…

Over the years, Eddie’s gotten more perceptive when it came to the subtleties of body language. He didn’t miss the fact that you’d been leaning into every touch he ghosted over your skin, no matter how overt or fleeting those touches might have been. He’d seen the change in your eye contact when it lingered a little longer than necessary- that shift from attentive to intrigued, even a little wanting at times.

The only question was what you wanted, and Eddie was really hoping it was him.

As he watched you take his place at the mic, standing monochrome in scarlet light, he bit his lip as he tried to hold back the salacious grin that slid across his lips; he was unsuccessful.

Eddie hit his guitar part easily as you purred the lyrics that the two of you had slaved over into your microphone.

Be more predictable

Be less political

Not too original

Keep to tradition, but stay individual

Thrusting ever so slightly with his warlock, Eddie channeled the rage and rebellion of your lyrics into every word, smirking with the next few lines- they had been one of the first additions to the song that he’d made, and you more than did them justice.

Dirty but washable

Winning but stoppable

All that I’m hearing is

You wanna make the impossible possible

Even though you’d been nervous earlier, it looked like you’d been able to shake it all off. Confidence was rolling off you like waves, strength in your comfort onstage practically seeping out of your pores. Eddie felt proud, yes, but mostly? He was turned the fuck on by it. His eyes never left you as you carefully removed the mic from its stand and leisurely strode to the edge of the stage as you sang the next lines, punctuating the last with a little shake of your head and a comically disgusted wrinkle of your nose.

Is this what you’d all prefer?

Would you like me better if I was still her?

Did she make your mouths water?

Ugh.

Just like you’d practiced, flashing white lights littered the stage right on cue when the drums opened up the chorus, and you belted those lyrics with all the anger and exasperation that he knew you’d felt when you’d written them. You were a force to be reckoned with- this was that girl he’d met when he’d walked into your apartment acting like a jackass; this was the firecracker of a woman who wasn’t afraid to tell him exactly what she thought.

I know the part I’ve played before

I know the shit that I’ve ignored

I know the girl that you adored

She’s dead, it’s time to fucking mourn

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

Dinner’s served, it’s on the floor

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

You dropped to a crouch, for the end of the chorus, legs bent but spread slightly, and flashing lights glinted off the metal buckles of your platform boots. Your voice ripped from your chest as you belted into the mic.

You’ll have to eat me as I am

Eddie was incredibly grateful for the crouch you’d dropped into, because it gave him a view of your ass that was so perfect, he actually groaned. Swooned, practically. Thank god you had his mic and the music was loud enough that no one noticed. He hoped. However, anyone with eyes could probably see that he was basically undressing you with his gaze right now, so he really needed to get it together unless he wanted to be on a front page tomorrow for the wrong reasons. He cringed, imagining the headline Munson Ogles Popstar Half His Age. Mid-Life Crisis? Yeah. His publicist would love that one.

You stood back up, stalking the edge of the stage as you sang the second verse. When you were about halfway through, you turned to look over your shoulder at Eddie, and it just about knocked the breath from his lungs. Your eyes- lined in black and zeroing in on him like something out of his metalhead fantasies- smoldered like embers on the edge of a cigarette as you sang the second half of the verse to him.

Longer hair and tighter clothes

Would you like me better if I didn’t oppose?

Silver platters, pretty bows…

You were at his side now, turned sideways from the crowd so you were facing him as he turned to face you in tandem. About a foot away from each other, the only thing between you was his guitar, thankfully big enough to hide the way his hard-on was quickly growing harder with every moment you looked at him with those eyes.

Your expression shifted, eyes rolling as you threw your head back in mock boredom, amping the lines up to the extreme. As you lifted your head back up, you looked at him with the brattiest fucking face Eddie had ever seen as you delivered the final line of the verse into the mic.

…Fuck.

And then you smirked, tip of your tongue peeking out of your lips and you winked at him.

Fucking. Winked.

Ohhhhhh, you were doing this on purpose. You had to be.

And Eddie couldn’t do shit about it, because you were in the middle of a performance, on stage, jumping around in platform boots and screaming the chorus into your mic like fucking banshee. So he channeled every ounce of sexual frustration into shredding the fuck out of his guitar and staring you down, salivating at the way you blazed on that stage like a witch at the stake. Then, about halfway through that chorus, at the edge of the stage and working the crowd for all they could give you, Eddie just about had a heart attack.

Because you dropped to your fucking knees.

You let the music take control of you, screaming ‘I can’t spoon-feed you anymore’ into the mic, you dropped down to one knee followed by the other as you delivered the final lines before Eddie’s solo.

You’ll have to eat me as I am

You held your last note long and loud, widening your knees and leaning into a backbend that didn’t stop until your upper back touched the stage behind you. Eddie was amazed that he was even able to remember his part when you were in front of him doing that. Jesus Christ.

Eddie continued to play, and he saw you crane your neck just in time to make eye contact with him as you delivered the next line of the song. You brought the mic to your lips, your knees still spread open and your spine deliciously arched.

Choke on it!

God…you were gonna kill him.

You pushed yourself back into a kneeling position, facing the audience. As Eddie’s guitar solo became more complex, and his playing more impressive, your jaw dropped as you looked to the audience and fanned yourself, as if you were all sharing a joint reaction of ‘wow, are you guys hearing this too?!’. Eyes crinkling from your smile, you brought the mic to your mouth again.

Choke on it!

Once you were back on your feet, you stood at ease in the center of the stage as you waited out Eddie’s solo. When he finished, you stared down the crowd as you delivered the last chorus. At this point, Eddie could see some of the spectators mouthing the words along with you, and his chest swelled with pride at your ability to win over a crowd that hadn’t even been expecting you on stage. Hell, knowing his fans, most of them were probably older than you by several years, and yet here they were singing your song.

When you drew your first breath after the final note, the crowd went wild. He expected you to be staring at them, soaking up the energy of a satisfied throng of fans, but no- immediately, your eyes were on him, an ear-to-ear smile stretching across your face. You had just absolutely killed your first song performed in two years, and you wanted to share your joy with him before you shared it with anyone else.

Eddie couldn’t help but mirror your smile- it was the least he could do, after the way you just made his heart swell to triple its usual size. He took a few steps over to where Jeff stood with his bass, nodding to the mic in a silent question, to which Jeff gladly stepped aside.

“If this is what happens when you take a two-year hiatus,” Eddie said slyly into the mic, “then maybe you should do it more often, rockstar.”

The crowd cheered again, and you looked caught off guard by his calling you rockstar instead of popstar. To Eddie, it made perfect sense- tonight, there was nothing pop about you. You were rock & roll incarnate, his equal in every single way. You took a few steps back until you and he were the same distance from the edge of the stage, and as long as he was speaking, your eyes never left him.

“So I’ve been working with this absolute badass on an album- well no, I’m giving myself way too much credit, she wrote an album, I plucked a few guitar strings, yada yada yada-” You giggled as Eddie reminded the crowd of your name, loud and clear, so they knew who to look up on Spotify later. “-anyway, her album drops in a week, that last song you heard was called…”

Eddie looked at you with expectant eyes and a devilish smile. He wanted to hear you say it. Just for fun. He enjoyed being a little shit.

You smirked into your mic. “Eat Me.”

The crowd cheered again, all it took was hearing you say two little words. Eddie knew the feeling.

“We’ve got one more before our lovely guest has to leave the stage, and this one is my personal favorite off the album.” Eddie started warming up with a couple chords from the song before adding, “This is Freak.”

You had replaced the mic into its stand at center stage, which was where Eddie headed to meet you. During sound check, you had asked him if he would need his own mic for this one, but Eddie- selfishly- had said it was no problem, and he didn’t mind sharing. That was a drastic understatement though, since he would happily leap at any excuse to have his lips close to yours in any capacity at all.

You smiled at him, and you were doing that thing again- that thing where you looked at him like you were giving him a dare. That thing where you touched the tip of your tongue to your upper lip.

Eddie wanted to bite that lip.

Instead, he smoldered down at you as he began the opening chords to Freak.

***

You may not have been sure about Eddie’s feelings before tonight, but you were now.

He wanted you. Bad. So bad, you felt high off the lust that was rolling off the man beside you.

You could tell by the way he was looking at you that he wanted to do so many things to you here and now, but due to the giant crowd before you that wasn’t an option. The power trip of knowing that every move you made was driving him crazy and he couldn’t do shit about it made you feel bratty as fuck, and you channeled every ounce of that into each word of your next song.

Pinch me, singe me, inch me to the edge

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let the sultry lyrics take over, arms bending as you brought them up to dance above your head as you stretched your neck back. Your pose mimicked the way you might have stretched across a bed, arching your back slightly in a way that you knew would make Eddie’s mind wander to all the right places.

Prod me, laud me, ungodly but heaven-sent

As the tempo picked up for the bridge, your lips brushed the mic and you bounced slightly to the beat. Looking up at Eddie, you felt your chest tighten when you saw how blown his pupils were as they zeroed in on you. There was nothing silly or flirty in his gaze now- this was lust, want, need… it was predatory in a way that made you shiver.

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby

Step right up to watch the freak go crazy.

Eddie’s guitar launched into the chorus with you, both of your mouths breaking your little standoff by smiling because you couldn’t help yourselves- performing together, this close, singing lyrics that the two of you connected with- you were having so much fun.

Am what I am and what I am is a piece of meat

Take a bite just to watch me bleed

Freak

Say what you want and what you want is behind your teeth

Ain’t gotta spell it out for me

Freak

Now Eddie’s lips were the ones on the mic, his throaty voice tearing through the air in a way that made you stop short from its power alone. He sang the first two lines on his own-

Bait me, you can cage me

Even plate me, I don’t care

You joined him for the bridge on one side of the mic while his mouth remained in place at the other, and his voice dropped down to his chest to create a sound that was more growl than song. He sounded demonic, feral- damn, you wanted to jump his bones right now.

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby

Step right up to watch the freaks go crazy

As you both sang the chorus together this time, your eye contact across the microphone was charged with feelings reflected as though you were looking in a mirror. Anticipation for what would happen after this show was building with every lyric, and as he growled his lines into the mic you wondered what the headline would be if you stuck your tongue down his throat right now.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how you wanted to start this next leg of your career- at least publicly. Different time, different place. Like, say, in about thirty minutes. In your dressing room. Against a wall, preferably.

When you finished the chorus, Eddie shredded through his guitar solo like a bat out of hell, even improvised a scream into the mic that made your jaw drop yet again. Upon hearing it, you couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh, hopping up and down in your platform boots and headbanging along with him. After he’d finished, you took hold of the mic stand with both hands and began chanting repeating lines that would take you through to the next chorus before ending the song.

Came from the trauma, stayed for the drama

You sang the line twice before Eddie joined you for the third and fourth repetition, that deep, ripping croon tearing its way through his throat and out of his plush pink lips less than an inch from yours. You wanted to turn your head and look at him so badly, but you were so close that you’d be locking lips if you did.

As you both sang the final chorus, you pulled back just enough for your gazes to meet; you were rewarded with lust blown umber eyes, sweat-soaked curls framing a face as timeless as music itself, and a grin that sparked pure joy in your very soul.

If this guy can fuck, you might just fall for him.

Eddie prompted the audience to cheer for you one more time after the song was over, shooting you a smile as he brought you in for a friendly hug. He was in front of thousands; you knew his hands would remain in strictly G-rated areas (unfortunately), but he did whisper in your ear out of range from the mic.

“Wait for me in your dressing room.”

Bingo.

You thought about following his lead- waiting patiently in your dressing room for him to finish up his show then have his way with you- but you had a better idea. You tilted your head up quickly to bring your lips up to his ear, your clear lip gloss catching its shell.

“I’m gonna keep watching you in the wings- you can do whatever you want after that.”

Your eyes met as you pulled away, and you let yourself revel for a moment at the way he looked at you- like he wanted to, well…eat you. Eyes so dark they were almost black under the stage lights, he shook his head slightly in disbelief. Again, you felt that familiar rush of adrenaline from driving him crazy when he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it; you were beginning to think you might be addicted.

As Corroded Coffin finished their set, you stayed offstage and did exactly what you said you would- you watched Eddie every second. You were like a sponge soaking up every flip of his hair, every deft movement of his fingers as they flew across the frets of his guitar. Every once in a while, his eyes would flick to where you stood, checking to see if you were still there, which of course you were. Each time he saw you, you watched as he shook his head again, or rolled his eyes, or- in one case which almost resulted in you melting into a puddle on the floor- maintaining eye contact as he belted out lyrics to songs he wrote, with a gaze so smoldering it felt as if there were no one in the whole arena but the two of you. With every minute, every note, every song- you felt him spinning a web around you like a spider trapping its prey, and you willingly anticipated the moment he would finally storm off the stage and drink you dry.

And that’s exactly what he did.

The last song ended, and Eddie wasted no time in ripping his guitar from his torso, handing it to a roadie without a second glance and grabbing you by the hand. You didn’t protest as he pulled you into a corner backstage away from any prying eyes. Before you could think a coherent thought besides Wow, I’m wet, Eddie took both your wrists in his strong, ring-dappled hands and slammed them above your head against the wall. His eyes, black with lust and wolfishly hungry, bored into yours as he used the last ounce of restraint to hold himself back long enough to ask the vital question, “Tell me, you want this?”

He bit the words out; growled them into your face as your eyes widened, desire painting your expression a gorgeous shade of pathetic as you nodded desperately. A deep groan sounded from his chest as Eddie pressed his pelvis against yours, and you gasped at how hard he was. “Words, sweetheart, I need you to say it.”

That familiar flare of indignation in your chest mingled with the flames in your core that burned for all he had to give you. Your eyes shifted, screaming rebellion that harmonized with the submission that your body so desperately craved. The corner of your mouth quirked up in a mocking half-smile. “Fuck yes, I want it, what do you think I was bouncing around out there for-”

His lips murmured a “Fucking Christ,” as he cut your sentence short, smashing his needy mouth against your burgeoning smirk. His arms crumbled as he finally felt the release of his skin on yours, caging you in as his forearms collapsed against the wall, hands still closed around your wrists. His biceps flexed, framing your faces as he all but devoured you in a kiss that was so wanting, so possessive- it claimed you. It ruined all kisses that came before it and would ever follow it.

He was ruining you, and you committed the way his whole body covered yours and made you feel both safe and coveted to memory, imprinting it on your mind knowing that you would probably never feel this wanted ever again.

Then, just as soon as he was on you, his touch lifted away.

A needy whine escaped your lips before you could hold it back. Eddie slotted his tattooed hand into the space where your neck met your jawline, thumb caressing your skin as he smiled sweetly down at you- but his eyes were anything but sweet.

“I gotta go back out for the encore. Go take these off-” you melted into his touch as his other hand played with the buckles at the front of your top. His hand at your neck crept back, taking your chin between his thumb and the middle knuckles of his forefinger as if he were scolding a child.

“-and wait in your dressing room.”

Your eyelids were heavy, and you smirked as you opened your mouth to argue-

“And don’t fucking argue with me.”

You bit the reply into your bottom lip- you could save the brattiness for later. Just as Eddie had begun to pull away, his eyes dropped to your teeth on your lip and in half a second he was on you again.

He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the soft skin before biting down firm enough to set off your mental alarms yet soft enough that you didn’t feel any pain from it. He pulled away once more, letting your lip go with a little pop.

“Been wanting to do that all night.” Eddie said, his shit-eating grin back in full force as he winked at you and jogged back to the stage. You stayed put for a second, smiling like an idiot as you heard the roar of the crowd, imagining what Eddie must look like while he returned to the stage with lips pink and swollen from his attempt at eating you alive. No one would know why he looked out of breath and a little extra happy… but you would.

You’d never walked as fast in your life as you did in that moment, making a beeline for your dressing room, fingers already beginning to work on the buckles at your sternum.

***

When Eddie opened the door to your dressing room about ten minutes later, the gigantic grin on his face fell instantly when he saw you lounging on the couch in the same clothes you’d been wearing during sound check, sans your oversized skull sweatshirt. Your black shorts and knit tank top still showed plenty of skin, but he had explicitly told you to take off your clothes and wait for him. You were still in the mood to brat out, apparently.

You looked up at him from your phone, smiling sweetly with challenging eyes. “Hi.”

Eddie closed the door behind him, leaning against it as it shut. “Hi.” he mimicked, crossing his inked forearms over his chest. He stared at you silently, expectantly.

You raised an eyebrow, coyly pretending not to know what he was being so pissy about. “What?”

Eddie pushed off the door, walking towards you at a pace that was agonizingly slow. “You know what.”

You huffed haughtily, looking back at your phone and pretending to be more interested in your screen than the man who’d had you panting up against a wall ten minutes ago. “Well that’s a little presumptuous of you, I’m not a mind reader.”

It didn’t take Eddie long to cross the expanse of your tiny dressing room, deftly sliding the phone from your hands and placing it on a low table beside the couch. “Should’ve known you weren’t listening earlier,” Eddie tsked and shook his head in disappointment. “I know you were a little distracted back there, sweetheart, but when I told you to take your clothes off, I meant it.”

You sighed as Eddie stared down at you from where he stood, towering over you as you laid back against the couch cushions. His gaze devoured you piece by piece as it roved over your wide eyes, glossy lips- your shoulders still shining from sweat after giving your all to the stage, your chest as it rose and fell with your quickening breath.

“Well,” you purred, like a cat who knew they were the center of attention and didn’t mind it in the slightest. “You didn’t say not to put on clothes after I took the other ones off…”

As you spoke he leaned forward, placing a knee on the couch between your legs so that your heat was only inches from his thigh. His hands splayed across your rib cage, admiring the stark contrast between his ink-covered hands and your soft, cream-colored shirt. It was thin enough to see… wait, were you-?

Eddie smirked, a breathy laugh escaping through his nose as he pulled the fabric taut, confirming his suspicions that yep, you weren’t wearing a bra.

Oblivious to Eddie’s train of thought, you continued, “...if you wanted me to just wait here for you naked then you should’ve been more specif-”

Rrrrriiiiipp!

Your jaw dropped, cold air hitting your bare breasts without warning as Eddie tore your shirt open. You squealed, your shocked voice jumping up several octaves. “Eddie!” but your eyes told a different story. You were pissed, but the anger you felt was nothing compared to how fucking hot he looked after doing something as dominant and unexpected as ripping your fucking clothes off.

He raised his eyebrows, giving you a moment to push him away in case he had gone too far- but you didn’t. Instead, you narrowed your eyes up at him and crossed your arms over your bare chest, pressing your cleavage together the way you knew would drive him nuts. “That was fucking Gucci!” you pouted.

Eddie laughed, taking your crossed arms and shoving them up above your head over the arm of the couch as he mockingly imitated your high-pitched “‘That was fucking Gucci!’” he lowered himself over you, bringing his face to the hollow of your neck, and you heard him inhale the scent of you from your collarbone to your ear. He wrapped his lips around the underside of your ear and sucked, then bit, savoring your little moan at the sensation. His mouth met your ear as he growled, “Wouldn’t have happened if you’d just done as you were told, instead of being a little fucking brat.”

Eddie pulled back, sitting up on his knee that was still slotted between your legs as he cupped his hands around your naked breasts. He kneaded them, played with you like he was testing out a brand new toy. He addressed you without looking up into your eyes as he continued to paw at your chest. “You gonna be a good girl now and do what I tell you to?”

You raised your eyebrows, amused that he expected your submission so quickly. Smugly, you looked up at him through narrowed eyes, placing your hands behind your head like a pillow and sighed petulantly.

“Fucking bite me.”

His eyes snapped up at you, thick with predatory disbelief at your cheek even when he had you half naked beneath you. He’d been challenged before, sure- but at this point, when he had his woman pinned down and moaning under him, he was usually the undisputed decision-maker during sex. The smile that bloomed across his lips was devilish, almost like there was a beast within him that had been kept safely under lock and key- until you’d said that.

Eddie was on you, grabbing one breast and enveloping the nipple in a harsh suck of his lips, biting down on the little nub hard. You gasped, the sound a lewd, sharp moan that brought out a laugh in him so nefarious it gave you chills. He looked up at you with eyes alight with amusement and feral need that shook you to your core.

“Oh, baby-” he laughed, crawling up until his face hovered over yours. “-I’m gonna have some fucking fun with you.”

Taking your face in his hands, Eddie Munson kissed you like it was what he had been put on God’s green earth to do. His lips moved against yours with a beautiful mix of urgency and devotion, like you could just tell that right here, right now, there was nothing else he cared about except making sure you knew exactly how badly he wanted- needed- to make you his. He slowly lowered the rest of his body until his pelvis was flat against yours, grinding into your clothed heat and exploiting the chink in your brat armor that was the his fucking size.

You bucked your hips up into him, craving friction as you moaned into his mouth. Eddie chuckled, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “What’s the matter baby, you need something?”

You pouted against him, moving a hand to reach between the two of you and palm him through his jeans, but he knocked your hand out of the way, continuing to dry hump you to insanity. You whined as he bit your pouting lip, sucking it into his mouth before his tongue slipped into yours. It explored you, tasting you as your tongue happily let him in. You felt his hand creep down your torso, giving your abused, bitten tit a little squeeze before traveling further down to the button of your shorts.

He undid the button with ease before you registered that he was taking off your clothes after he had denied you access to do the same to him. “Hey,” you panted, reaching for him, “you first, that’s not fair. I’m nearly naked and you haven’t even taken off your shirt.”

Eddie chuckled, tilting his head to the side as he feigned confusion. “Fair?” he asked, “Since when did you want to play fair?” He reached back down to your shorts, button already undone, and gently pulled down the zipper. “You were the one out there- as you said- ‘bouncing around’-” His hands raked up your thighs until they reached the hem of your shorts and slowly tugged them down as you lifted your hips slightly so he could remove them smoothly. Eddie smirked; NOW she does what I want her to do. “-knowing full well I couldn’t do a damn thing about it… and that fucking wink-” His eyes rolled back in his head just imagining it. He groaned as he pulled your shorts from your feet and discarded them on the floor. “-what the fuck was that, huh? Trying to get a rise out of me, baby?”

You giggled, bubbly laughter floating into a breathy sigh as Eddie’s finger traced the line of your slit through your panties. “Hmmmmm, like it when you call me baby.” you hummed.

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh you do?” His finger traveled up over the fabric, and he chuckled when you bucked up into his touch as the pad of his finger passed over your clit. That finger slipped under the elastic waistband of your panties, pulling it upwards off your skin as far as it could stretch. “You’re entirely too happy right now,” he stated, matter-of-factly. He let go of the elastic, making you jump with a breathy whimper as it hit your skin with a soft sting. “I’m switching back to sweetheart.”

You whined and he laughed as he continued to play with the elastic on your panties. He stared at them, entranced, before a wolfish grin took up residence on his face. “You like these?” he asked, and you knew where this was going right away.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. “How kind of you to ask this time.”

The grin grew, and he took the crotch of your panties into his fist, grabbing the fabric above it with his other hand to do the same. You ground your hips against his knuckles as they brushed your pussy, already soaked and eager for any friction you could get. “Yeah, you know what,” he voiced, as if he were simply thinking out loud. “I don’t really care if you like them or not.”

And with that, another article of clothing was ripped to shreds by Eddie Munson and his stupid, tattooed, ring-covered, sexy-as-fuck hands.

This time you couldn’t even be offended; you were just fucking feral at this point. While he was still distracted by your panties, you quickly shoved yourself up to a kneeling position, startling him enough that he moaned into the fervent kiss that crashed into his mouth. The two of you knelt on the couch cushions, hands grabbing at fabric desperately in a quest to make your skin connect at every square inch you had. Eddie allowed you to pull his shirt over his head, and the shallow breath you had left was instantly knocked from your lungs when you took in the ink that decorated his torso. Some tattoos were old and faded almost blue, while others looked newer- song lyrics, mythical creatures, hellish images adorned his skin like a tapestry that belonged in a museum- but it was here, under your hands. All for you. You couldn’t hold yourself back from bending down a little lower, sliding your tongue up his sternum over the masterpieces scarred into his skin and licking a long, broad stripe from his chest until you reached the tip of his chin. You felt him shiver, arms tightening around you after shoving the remains of your tank top over your shoulders. You started to push him back, planning to open his pants and show him what else you could do with your tongue- but Eddie wasn’t about to let you be on top after the way you’d been acting all night.

“Mm-mm, nope.” he mumbled, stepping off the couch.

“I’m just trying to suck your cock, baby. Please?” You looked up at him with your best puppy-dog eyes, widening your legs as you knelt on the couch facing him, squishing your boobs together in that way that usually got you exactly what you wanted. For some reason, Eddie was immune.

He placed his hand along your neck, thumb and forefinger squeezing just enough for him to feel your pulse. The way your eyes widened, looking up at him the same way you had when he’d shoved you up against a wall earlier- it brought a satisfied hum out of Eddie, and he loved the way he could feel your heartbeat quicken slightly. There was no hiding what you felt when his hand was wrapped around your throat.

“You like calling me baby, sweetheart?”

You gulped. He felt it, of course, and he had to hold back a laugh- you looked so cute like this. Made him want to break you just to see what you’d be like when he picked up the pieces.

Your eyes were blown wide, like a hunted fox with nowhere to run. “Is that okay? Can I call you baby?”

His face crumpled- god, you were adorable. Eddie smiled sympathetically, “Oh you can call me whatever you want, sweetheart-” His thumb moved up to your bottom lip, stroking gently before working it into your mouth; he groaned, head thrown back when he felt your soft, wet tongue swirl around his digit and coat it with your spit.

“-don’t care what you’re calling me as long as you know I own your ass tonight.”

And then you moaned- oh, you fucking moaned his name around his finger in your mouth, and his cock twitched at the way it sounded. He wanted to record that, play it on loop, put it in a fucking song, hell- anything for him to be able to listen to it again and again and again. He wanted everyone to hear it, to know it was his name on your fucking tongue.

His thumb ripped from your mouth, replaced by his middle and ring finger, delving surprisingly deep into your mouth as you gagged around them. Your tongue quickly resumed its previous motions, lapping at his thick fingers and sliding over, under, around, between them. You reveled in the taste of metal as you tongued his silver rings. You gasped when he removed his fingers before, without warning, he slid them into your weeping pussy.

Your expression was beautifully obscene, eyes wide with surprise while your mouth- glistening with spit from his fingers leaving in a rush- fallen open in a silent scream. Eddie thrust his fingers up and into you repeatedly, forcing you open wider and wider with the rapid motion.

“Actually, I changed my mind,” Eddie grit into your ear, “I don’t wanna hear anything but my goddamn name leave that pretty ‘lil mouth until I’m done with you, aright?”

You were moaning, but evidently that was still not enough to deter you from being your snarky self. “Well that’s unrealistic, I’ll probably say more than just tha- ah! Oh fuck-!”

Eddie’s pace was relentless, fingers ripping through you with a vengeance as he muttered “Bratty little slut-” spearing you over and over as you sped toward the white-hot precipice that wasn’t quite release, but certainly what Eddie intended to pull out of you.

You moaned as what felt like a dam within you suddenly gave way, flooding your inner thighs, Eddie’s hand, and the couch beneath you. Eddie smiled wide, the muscles in his arm screaming pointlessly- he wasn’t going to stop until you’d given him every last drop there was to give.

“-yeah, not so bratty when you’re squirting all over my hand, are you baby? What, are you trying to say something? Spit it out, popstar-”

The noises tumbling from your lips were anything but coherent, Eddie knew that. He just kept grinning like a kid in a candy store as you babbled sounds that might have been his name, might have been a prayer, might have just been yes, yes, yes, Eddie, god yes!

Whatever it was, it was music to his ears.

Eddie looped his arms under your knees, pulling you into a sitting position with your legs wide open. Dropping to his knees, he stared at your spread pussy, glistening with the slick he’d just wrestled from you. His hands, wet with all you’d given him, grasped your thighs firmly but gently as he looked up into your eyes. It might have been the post-orgasmic haze you were experiencing, but for a second, Eddie looked at you with nothing in his eyes but care and admiration. His gaze shone like sunlight as he looked up at you, your stomach creasing from the crunch position he'd placed you in, your breasts rising and falling with each breath- the way he stared at you made you feel like an angel.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” he whispered, hands squeezing your thighs affectionately. Before you could even react, his tongue was on you, lapping away at your soaked pussy. You mewled, head thrown back and spine arching as unraveled you from the inside out. He traced endless intricate shapes over your clit, your lips, your hole- thoughts flew from your brain as you let his mouth drive you fucking wild. His ministrations slowed at one point, causing you to open your eyes- you couldn’t even remember when you’d closed them- and look up at Eddie.

Upon looking up, you were blessed with the sight of Eddie Munson, close-cut beard soaked with your slick, shirtless, pantsless, and currently pulling off his black boxers to reveal a cock that made you salivate on sight.

You let your brattiness fly out the window- there would be time for more of it later, but right now you needed that cock in one of your holes and you didn’t quite care which one.

Eddie stroked himself leisurely, eyes boring down into yours the whole time. “Tell me what you want, babygirl.”

You spread your legs open wider for him. “Please.” you whined.

Eddie shook his head, disappointed, sinking to his knees again. “See, this is what I knew would happen,” he murmured, sliding a finger around your clit at a torturously slow pace. “I can’t believe you got fucked stupid already and I didn’t even have to use my cock, those were just my fingers, baby.” From the slick sounds you heard from below your line of sight, you knew that he was jerking himself off as he played with your pussy. It was enough to pull a desperate moan from your throat. He licked one flat, wet stripe from your opening to your clit before murmuring against you, “Can’t even use your words and tell me what you want, sweet girl’s been fucked too dumb to make decisions, is that right?”

You found yourself nodding ‘yes’, the dirty words flying out of his mouth in rapid succession throwing your brain into overdrive. He was right; you barely had the brain capacity to think right now, much less match his attitude with snark. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, waiting for whatever he planned on doing next.

Eddie clicked his tongue, tilting his head as he looked at you pityingly. “That’s right, don’t worry baby I’ll just make all the decisions now, okay?” He rose, leaning over you as he placed a knee to your side and stroked himself, lining up his fully hard cock at your entrance. Your heartbeat quickened, excitement and anticipation building now that you knew his cock would be inside you soon. You mewled as his tip stroked your slit, up and down and up and down again… and stopping at your hole, hovering outside you.

You looked up at him desperately, only to breathe in sharply upon seeing his devilish grin paired with coal-black lust-blown eyes.

“Beg for it.”

You sighed so heavy it became a sob, frustrated and scrunching up your face like you were ready to throw a tantrum.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you whined.

“There she is.” he murmured.

If looks could kill, your glare would have sent Eddie Munson to his deathbed. He matched it with a condescending smile that spoke volumes of the power trip he was on right now. Leaning in slightly closer, he repeated himself. “Beg, sweetheart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No.”

Eddie shrugged, backing up just enough for his cock to leave your skin- you knew it was over from there.

“Wait!” you cried, eyebrows drawing together desperately under his cocksure gaze. Christ you didn’t want to beg, but you might not have a choice. Eddie waited patiently, stroking his cock absentmindedly as he watched you squirm below him.

You looked up at him, giving him your best ‘fuck me’ eyes. “Please fuck me Eddie.” Your voice was honey sweet, soft and submissive.

Eddie crouched down, sticking a finger in his mouth before he used it to play with your pussy, stroking circles around your clit and pumping it slowly in and out of you. “Aww, baby…” he crooned before narrowing his eyes. “-we both know you can do better than that.”

You groaned, back arching as your hands fisted frustratingly into the cushions. “Eddie, pleaaasse-”

“Try harder, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Eddie you fucking prick, just fucking fuck me, please, I need your cock-”

Eddie smiled- that was good enough for him. “‘Atta girl.” he groaned deeply as he pushed his cock into your waiting hole, your thankful moan mingling with his.

His dick was perfect, filling you deliciously and long enough to just hit that spot beneath your clit that made your nerves go berserk. You didn’t realize how loud your moaning was until Eddie shut you up by covering your mouth with his own, swallowing down every sound you made and repaying you with noises of his own.

“God, baby- so fuckin’ tight-”

You moaned, squeezing him as his cock speared you again and again. You were so built up between your squirting earlier and Eddie’s talented tongue- you were already getting close.

As if he could read your mind, Eddie grunted out as he continued thrusting into you, “I’m nearly there already, baby, you gonna cum with me?”

You whined, nodding ‘yes’ as he pacified your mewling with his thumb. You lapped at it lewdly, covering him with a thick layer of your spit before releasing it with a pop. Eddie brought it down to your clit, working gentle circles around your bundle of nerves as his thrusting picked up the pace. You squirmed under him, chasing your release as you listened to the filth that poured from his mouth while he fucked the living shit out of you.

“Jesus, fuck, so tight- my sweet girl, gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna make you come undone on my cock, just a fucking mess, gonna cum so hard on my cock-”

That last thing he said seemed to jerk him back into reality- his eyes grew wide, snapped out of his high as he looked down at you. “Shit, I don’t have a condom…baby, I’m so sorry, shit, where should I-”

You reached down, raking your nails softly over his hips. “I’m on birth control.” you said, smiling calmly. You kicked yourself for being so eager; normally you would still insist on a condom even with your implant, but Eddie just did something to you. “You haven’t been fucking any random groupies, have you?”

Eddie huffed, his laughter strained by his fast-approaching orgasm. “You’re the first in a while, angel. Last I checked I was clean, but I can still pull out if you-”

“Inside.” you whispered, grasping his ass and pulling him deeper into you. “I trust you, Eddie, I want you to fill me.”

His movements stuttered, big brown eyes wide and watching you like you were a miracle unfolding underneath him. He was still for half a second before his thumb resumed its movements over your clit as he thrusted faster, harder than before.

“Oh fuck, you want me to fill you baby? You want my fucking cum?”

His cock speared into you as deep as it could go, Eddie’s attention to your clit driving you over the edge with relentless speed. “Yes, I want it Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Fucking take it baby, cum on that cock.”

Eddie groaned as you clamped down on him, his seed spilling inside of you while your pussy fluttered around him. You arched your back until your face was pressed into the cushions behind you, muffling your whimpering voice as you moaned his name.

A few moments passed, the air thick with the sound of heavy breathing and the smell of sex, before Eddie slowly pulled out of your wet heat. You laid there for a moment before you felt Eddie clean his sticky spend from your thighs and ass using a tissue.

“Normally,” he said gently, “I would use a warm washcloth to do this, but we have limited options.”

You sat up as he finished, smiling up at him playfully. “That sounds nice,” you said, “maybe I shouldn’t have listened to you earlier, made you wait until you couldn’t take it anymore and just whisked me off to your place.”

Eddie sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. He looked up at you with nothing but content sweetness in his eyes, any trace of the feral dominance from earlier gone for now. “I mean, we can still do that.”

You beamed, “Really?”

Eddie scoffed, tugging you closer. “What do you mean, ‘really’? You think I need to be desperately horny to want you in my bed?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the mention of his bed. “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t know if you wanted this to just be a one time thing, or…” You trailed off, unsure of what Eddie’s expectations had been for what happened after.

Eddie’s eyebrows drew together, confused. “Sweetheart,” he said, his finger tracing circles on your thigh affectionately. “We can hash out details whenever you’re comfortable… but tonight? I would count myself a very lucky man if you came home with me tonight.” He touched his forehead to yours, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay?” he asked.

You looked down, suddenly shy upon hearing his honey-sweet words. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before looking him in his big brown eyes. “Okay.” you whispered.

Your eyes stayed connected, melting you until your lips met his again, kissing him sweetly as his hands worked their way to your ass, squeezing as he sighed into your kiss.

“Alright,” he grunted, playfully slapping your thigh as a signal to stand up. “Let’s get you dressed.”

You giggled. “In what? You ripped up all my clothes!” you held up the shredded panties, shaking your head in disbelief.

Eddie shrugged, stepping into his boxers. “I didn’t rip up all of them, don’t be so dramatic.” He picked up your shorts, tossing them to you. “Just go commando with the shorts and wear your sweatshirt, no one will know.”

You sighed, stepping over your torn Gucci tank top and retrieving your bra from where it sat neatly folded in a chair. Eddie looked over his shoulder at you as you began to put it on and gasped.

“You did have a bra!”

You smirked, reaching behind your back for the clasp. “Yeah… I wanted to see your face when I wasn’t wearing one.”

Eddie shook his head, smiling like an idiot as he buckled his jeans. “Unbelievable.” he chided, “Was it worth it?”

You tugged your sweatshirt over the bra, taking a few steps in Eddie’s direction until you were close enough to snake your hand around to the back of his neck and pull him down for one more kiss. When you pulled away, Eddie looked down at you entranced, blinking rapidly as if emerging from a dream. He could only describe the feeling in his chest as complete and utter euphoria.

You grinned up at him, eyes alight with adrenaline that still lingered from your performance onstage and absolute infatuation with the man before you.

“So worth it.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #rockstar!eddie munson #older!eddie munson #popstar!reader #inspired by demi lovato's album holy fvck #brat!reader #dom!eddie munson #rip-quizilla

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lw6-woso · 6 months

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car driver and the footballer (Leah X reader)

growing up You loved karting like you loved it every other day after school you were on the track loving life. so when you became a formula one driver was a dream you thought would never come true, especially being the only female on the track, it definitely had its disadvantages but also its positives as you campaigned women and girls to join the sport and get more into sports outside of formula one.

and that's how you met Leah Williamson and you both hit it of instantly not just promoting women to join sports and have the ability to do join sports but just in general, and you also had a massive crush on her from watching her play whenever you weren't training or racing. you got together in August of 2019 and have been strong ever since.

today was both your free days but instead of relaxing and spending time together you had some photo shoots and interviews.

you both had called a taxi to the middle of London and you walked into a building were you would be spending your day.

you met all the people who were involved and the first thing was the photoshoot. your relationship was a public one and was one of the most popular one in women sports and both your individual sports especially when Leah won the euros last summer and you winning a lot of your races through your last couple of seasons, you were both in your prime.

you had finished your photoshoots taking around 50 photos only taking two hours. talking the interview was going to be longer as you were going to answer questions about your journey to becoming pro- athletes.

"so the first question what made you want to start your sports how did you get involved" Sara , one of the staff, asked us.

Leah went first and said "growing up i was involved in lots of sports and i asked my mum to join football and i fell in love with it especially with watching a lot of it with my family and yeah one thing led to another and I'm here"

"with me i have ADHD and growing up my parents tried to get me into sports i mean i think i tried everything they could think of some i liked some i hated and i loved watching cars growing up the movie i mean i was obsessed watched it everyday and my mum asked me if i wanted to do things like that and i said i can be like lightning McQueen and yeah after one session i loved every aspect of it and i still do" you said.

"she still loves cars" Leah said.

"oh yeah best movie hands down" you said and looked at leah who was smiling at me.

"how old were you when you went pro and how did it feel what was it like" she asked.

"my first pro season was in 2017 i was with Williams right at the bottom and it was scary you know i was surrounded with all these big racers and i had just turned 18 and that was even scarier but i survived and now i am with Mercedes and its amazing" you said.

"i was 16 when i went pro and made my debut after my 17th at arsenal which was 2014 and like what Y/N said it was scary with all the big names and people that i grew up watching and my idols but yeah I'm still at arsenal had have no plans to leave and i can even put into words in how much i love it" she said.

we answered more questions about our sports and us in a relationship and then we were done. we made our way home and it was my turn to choose the movie and just for the sake of it you put on Cars. Leah walked into the living room videoing me.

"i think you love that movie more than you do me" she said.

"oh please don't say your jealous over a movie" you said laughing and she chucked a cushion at you. she sat down and put it on her story and everyone laughed and commented on it.

"i love you more than cars" you said.

"oh really" she said sitting up and you nodded taking a drink from you water.

"i love you more than arsenal" she said and your jaw dropped.

"oh my god i feel so special" you said dragging her towards you as littered kisses all over her face making her laugh.

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triple-7-heaven · 1 year

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ONCE AGAIN

thank you for waiting for me, readers. i do hope you enjoy it ♡ my first aespa fic, awesome! i've been going through it, thus the lack of content, but things are looking up for me. take care of yourselves, until next time :-) pairing: male reader x winter; words: 6.5k ; categories: aespa, winter, reader insert, smut, slightly storyline heavy

Back in high school, there was a girl who shone above the rest, but wasn’t necessarily popular. A girl who was a member of the math club, the photography club, and the dance team, whose evenings were filled with activities, who made many friends, but wasn’t fawned over by the student body in the way the true popular kids were.

One evening, you were at school pretty late, tutoring in the library. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice the time passing, until the janitor came in and told you he’d be needing to clean the library up, so you’d better scram. Backpack full of books, you rushed out of the library, and quickly made your way through the dark hallway. You turned the corner and nearly collided with a small girl, who grabbed onto your arm to steady herself.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you said, and the girl looked up at you. Oh, perfect… “Minjeong, shit, I’m sorry…”

“Hosang, what are you doing here so late?” Minjeong asked.

“Uh, tutoring… You know my name?” you asked incredulously. She smoothed out your sleeve, folded the collar of your shirt down, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“You know mine, too,” she quipped and giggled before running to catch up with her dance team friends, leaving you without room to explain yourself. To explain that no, I promise it isn’t weird, everyone knows your name, Minjeong, I’m not a crazy stalker, and I’m not here to spy on you through the gym windows while you dance. But you never got to explain yourself. To be fair, you did admire her from a distance. In the halls, at lunch, you wouldn’t deny that you looked at her with heart-shaped eyes. As pretty as you thought she was, you didn’t ever talk to her, something you would eventually regret.

Minjeong dropped out, and you didn’t run into her again. After graduation, you headed off to Seoul to learn how to fly, and soon, you realized someone else had come, too. Billboards, advertisements, you name it. For a solid month, wherever you looked, you saw her.

The same Kim Minjeong who you nearly sacked in the hallway that night, who, instead of yelling or being upset, straightened your clothes and wished you a good night; who knew your name when you were nobody. She was Winter, now, styled with gorgeous long, blonde hair, imposed over ethereal backgrounds and colors. You had to give it to whatever company she was running with, they made that old crush of yours flare right back up again with the way they marketed that girl. Financially stable enough under an air charter company flying small private jets, you decided you’d buy a set of the group’s albums when they debuted. Sitting on the floor of your apartment, pulling the photocards and posters out of those albums, you felt the full force of the regret from your school days: if you’d only talked to her in high school, you could have her number in your phone right this minute… But you were resigned now to being a fan, and a strongly biased one. That’s all you could be.

Charter piloting has benefits. Loads, surely. You’re essentially a glorified taxi driver, charging rich business people and celebrities $20k for a one hour flight from Incheon to Jeju. It’s morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money, right? As good as the pay, benefits, and overall experience are, the clientele… Well. Nothing you hate more than a stuck-up diva, and it’s even worse when you’re trapped in a flying metal tube with them. But you make do; the idol sightings you get on the job make all the asshole corporates worth it. From old school stars your parents might know, to drama actors and actresses, to the newest generation of idols, you welcomed a ton of each aboard, more than you could ever remember if you didn’t write it down. Unforgettable guests come along now and then; a trio of Twice members one weekend, some big-name producers behind insurmountably popular groups for a surfing trip, and the casts of award-winning shows on celebratory benders. Unforgettable loses its meaning when your secretary hands you today’s clipboard.

“This is mine? Thought it was… Uh…” you trail off and your eyes widen. The secretary laughs behind the desk.

“I knew it! You’re her fan, right? You always talk about Aespa. And I know you have her photocard in your wallet,” she winks at you as your face fills with an embarrassingly deep blush.

“It’s not just that, Jihye. I knew her in high school,” you say hesitantly.

“Oh my God, it’s like a reunion!” the girl squeals. “Wait, were you cool in high school?” she laughs.

“Uh… I don’t-”

“Yup, I knew it,” she says matter-of-factly. “Let me guess, the lame, nerdy guy had a crush on the cool-chick future idol?”

“No! Well, I don’t know,” you say. Your mind is too busy racing to think properly. The young secretary giggles to herself as you walk to the hangar. Preflight routines are difficult to complete when your mind’s racing faster than a Blackbird. Would she recognize you? Should you say something? Nah… You’re kicking tires pretending to be busy and the door opens. The trail end of a conversation…

“-ng is going to be your pilot. He’s a great aviator and an even better tour guide, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you around the island,” Jihye says. That damn secretary.

“Hosang? I feel like I’ve known someone with- oh, hi,” Minjeong stops abruptly when Jihye walks her around the aircraft to meet you. Long, wavy, dark hair, with bangs curled and blown out to mathematical perfection. Fair, unlined skin of a small and cute face. A simple and comfortable black sweater, a modest manicure, and plain, natural eye makeup. You bow shyly and wave.

“All good to go?” Jihye asks with the most annoying smile in the world.

“Yep,” you answer. Jihye departs and you welcome Minjeong to get comfortable while you finish up. A strange look occupies those perfect features as you give her a quick safety brief, then turn to enter the cockpit. Before the door closes behind you, “if you need anything, let me know.”

Why are you cold with her? Why are you nervous? You hardly smiled at her or asked what she was traveling for… Pure white clouds roll calmly underneath you. You resolve to be nice to her, even if she doesn’t recognize you, because let’s be real, it’s not her fault for not recognizing you. She meets tons of people. You’re just some not-cool kid from high school who had a crush on the cool-chick future idol. A pilot report over the radio snaps you out of it as you enter Jeju International’s airspace. Gusting winds and vertical movement, it’ll be a bumpy ride down. You reach for the intercom.

“Hey Minjeong, forgive me if I startled you. Looking at some rough air on the way down, but we’re about 20 minutes out. I’d sit down and belt in if you aren’t already, okay? Call if there’s any issues, and think of what you’d like for dinner.” You toggle off the intercom and wonder where the hell that came from. What, Jihye said you’d be happy to show Minjeong around the island, right? So you’ll show her. Your inner autopilot (funny…) takes over and you idly nudge the yoke for your approach phases. Wheels on the ground, hangar door shut, you stand and exit the cockpit. Minjeong looks up at you sleepily, and you sit across from her on one of the bench-style seats.

“So… dinner ideas?” you ask. Minjeong stands up and points at you groggily, shuffling towards you until her finger pokes the center of your chest.

“You. You went to my school, didn’t you?” she says, tiredness dripping from her voice. You nod and meet her eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me…” you say softly, honestly. She moves her hand to your shoulder.

“Well you’re bigger, yeah, but… I recognize you. Bigger and taller. Same face,” she says. The smile can’t be kept off your face, unfortunately, and Minjeong smiles too.

“You sound really tired. Let’s get going,” you say. After a quick post-flight and signing off with the hangar staff, you face her and say: “Gonna change really quick, then we’ll head to dinner.” You slip into the FBO restroom and drop your duffel, then slip out of your annoyingly stiff white uniform shirt. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, then pull on a plain black t-shirt before swapping your slacks for black jeans. One careful ruffle of the hair later, and you’re leaving the restroom to meet Minjeong in the hallway.

“Alright, ready.” You carry Minjeong’s luggage and she trails behind you, much like a puppy, on the way to the parking lot. The modest rent car’s parked right where the staff told you, so you open the door for Minjeong and she shoots you a confused smirk. You smile back, and hop into the driver’s seat.

“So what’s the occasion? Family in Jeju?” you ask.

“Honestly, I… When I get time off, I run a secret travel blog… So I take vacations, and take pictures and stuff,” she says quietly. “I dunno, it’s kind of silly.”

“How come it’s silly? Sounds fun to me. We’ll have to go to some really cool places so you can write a good post, huh?” you reply. “Now, dinner?”

“Mm. I’m too tired to think,” she mumbles. Great, now the pressure’s on you to pick something perfect…

“How about Black Pork Street? Could make for some good photos, and it’s really as good as people say it is,” you say and put the car in gear.

“Sounds good…” she trails off. Really, really sleepy. But she makes an effort to talk to you. She makes an effort to keep the focus off of herself, and more on you; she asks you how graduation was, since she didn’t go, and you really had to reach deep into your memory for that one. She asks you about flying, about why you chose it, about your life in Seoul, and about how you never ran into each other in the city. You hold yourself back from saying ‘well no, Minjeong, we haven’t run into each other in a city of 10 million people, with about 9,999,999 of those people being more interesting than me.’ When you arrive, Minjeong is lively and excited, telling you about her camera and asking what’s next after dinner. You kick yourself when you start wishing for a specific sort of dessert. Quit being dirty-minded, idiot…

“Let’s go! I’m hungry,” Minjeong says, dragging you out of your thoughts. She looks perfect taking photos on the street, pointing her camera at the sky, at signs, storefronts, plants, street cats. The way her eyes light up when she takes a good photo, runs over to show you, insists that you take a few of her; she’s not much different than she was back then, huh? A person with a good heart. A person whose heart you’d like to learn.

“Is it our honeymoon? First date? Must be a first date, you look nervous,” the dorky waiter says, nodding to you. Minjeong laughs, and you blush; the difference between you.

“Uh… J-just high school friends,” you manage to say. Minjeong jots notes and snaps photos throughout the meal, and as you’re serving up some pork belly for her, she takes a few photos.

“C’mon, make it look nice,” she whines.

“You’re serious about this, huh?” you laugh.

“It’s… It’s my baby. My project. My travel blog is like… I dunno, it’s a way for me to be creative, but not be Winter. It’s a way to just be Minjeong,” she slowly explains. “To have a space that’s all my own. Where I can talk about stuff I like, and not worry about press, or netizens, or fans, or anti-fans.”

“I get it. A space of your own. I should call you Minjeong then, right?” you say, nodding your head a bit too fast and a bit too much. She smiles and nods. But she nods like a regular person, not like you.

Dinner passes without incident. If we can ignore the waiter thing. Do you look like a couple or something? Maybe you do compliment each other. Maybe you seem like high school sweethearts. Maybe you could be.

“Hosang?” she says as she leans forward. “You in there? Let’s go to the hotel!” You snap out of it for the second time and hop up to lead the way to the rent car. The paperwork Jihye gave you had most of the information listed for Minjeong’s trip, and the hotel she’d be staying in was, of course, the Lotte City Hotel. No less grandeur for the princess. The GPS gets you there quickly, and you pull up to the front doors, leaving the car on as you grab Minjeong’s suitcase. Just as you’re rounding the front of the car and waving goodnight, she makes a confused face.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” she whines. Minjeong the kid…

“Oh, uh, yeah. I was gonna head to the motel near the airport, that’s where my room is. Did you need something else?” you say.

God, why do I sound like a customer service bot? ‘Did you need something else?’ Seriously?

“I… I dunno, I guess I just wanted someone to hang out with,” she replies.

Oh. To hang out?

“Oh, of course, Minjeong. Let me park, I’ll meet you,” you say. And she’s waiting for you in the same spot once you return to the front door; she didn’t even go inside. Her long, dark hair’s ruffled by the wind. Cute.

NO. Not cute. Not cute or pretty or hot. She’s my client, my customer, my responsibility; not my crush, my girlfriend, or my next body. Look at the ground or something, for the love of God, Hosang.

But looking at the ground can’t keep her legs from your peripheral view. She walks through the sliding doors and you follow behind with her suitcase in your hand, and your duffel on your shoulder. Long, slender, perfect legs, and you’re looking right at them. You snap your gaze to the windows and pretend to be looking at the skyline through the windows while Minjeong checks in. After a moment, she turns to you and smiles.

“Do you have a swimsuit?” she asks. You shake your head. “There’s shops on the bottom floors, go and find one, okay? Meet me on the sixth floor. There’s a pool! The pictures are gonna be perfect!”

She shoves a room key into your hand and takes the bags from you. You’re left in the lobby, dumbfounded, wondering how you should navigate this. A bellhop whistles at you.

“First night with her? Sheesh,” the young man says. “Score!”

“Weird situation, man. Weird as hell,” you trail off as you walk away, still shaking your head, more so to yourself now. Okay, shops. Swimsuit. You begin to feel insecurity nagging at you. You’re lean, sure, but not perfect. Not as perfect as… Well, nevermind. Quickly, you make your way through the shops, and find a pair of rather plain, mid-length black trunks at a duty free shop, changing into them in the restroom and leaving your shirt on. The elevator ride lasts forever. And ever. And ever. Until the robotic voice announces,

Sixth floor.

The doors open and you walk quietly out to the open area of the pool. You see one figure in the water already. She’s facing the city, hugging the edge of the pool and gazing at the skyline. The water laps at her back, just below her shoulder blades, and the silky smooth skin of her back is laid out for you, with only thin bikini straps to cover it. Her arms and shoulders are small, toned, but soft. Fancams and jacket shoots could never do justice to the sculpted angel right in front of your face.

“How’s the temperature?” you say. She turns around. Her top is composed of white strings and back fabric; conservative, but form-fitting to her chest, that Goldilocks chest, the perfect balance of size and shape. Her collarbones are distinct, curved, beautiful. Hell, every curve you can see is perfect, from the angle of her jaw to the base of her neck to the gentle taper of her arms.

“It’s heated,” she giggles. “Come on!” Insecurity. Nagging. Loudly.

“Are you sure? I can just hang out and take pictures for you up here, it’s not-”

“Come onnn,” she pleads. You turn away from her and slowly drag your shirt off, then kick your shoes and socks off near where Minjeong left hers. The water is slightly warmer than room temperature, and a welcome change from the chilly air. You sit yourself down on a ledge in the pool, and Minjeong swims to your side, sitting right next to you. Not close enough to touch.

“See? Isn’t it nice up here?” she says.

“It is. Ever been to Jeju before?” you ask.

“Nope. I think it’s even nicer with a good tour guide.”

“Ah, come on. I’m not all that.”

“You’re…” she trails off and sighs. Her hair tickles your shoulder when she leans into you. “I wish I’d talked to you more back then.”

“Hmm? Don’t worry about it, that’s way past us,” you mumble.

“So… If I said I wanted to make up for lost time… What would you say?” she says and you feel her fingertips smoothly run over your leg under the water.

“I think I’d ask where that idea came from,” you say breathlessly. She moves her hand to your waist, arm around your front.

“I always liked you. I just didn’t think you liked me, you were always so quiet,” she says. Your hand, now, meets her waist, and your eyes meet hers.

“Is this okay? I mean… Can you do stuff like this? Now that you’re all famous and everything,” you say, struggling to form any words at all, overwhelmed by the electric sensations of skin on skin underwater. She cups your cheek with a wet hand and nods to the camera bag.

“Can I get some pictures for the blog? Before… Before I forget,” she finishes cautiously.

Before you forget, huh… Gonna make me take an impromptu bikini shoot of one of the most beautiful women ever. No big deal.

Minjeong disentangles from you; she tosses you a towel and you dry your hands, then power on the camera. Eyes fixed on the camera’s display screen, you start shooting. She moves through pose after pose, and you can feel yourself hardening. How could you not? A perfect, slim, pale Minjeong, body covered with water droplets, her skin shining in the flash of the camera.

“Would you check and see if those ones are any good?” she calls to you. You begin scrolling through the photos, and sure, they’re great. It would be hard to take a bad photo of her.

“Yeah, these are good,” you say.

“Let’s take a few more, then we can relax a bit,” she says. The camera display switches back to photo mode, and you look through; this time, your heart stops. The screen shows you that Minjeong has shed her top, and now, the camera focuses on her bare breasts, nipples erect in the cold air, water streaming down her chest. Her hourglass shape is all the more prominent now, and you wonder how it would feel to run your hands all over her wet body. You begin to lower the camera, but she shakes her head. “These are just for me. Please?”

“J-just for you?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. Her poses grow more erotic. She squeezes her breasts together with her arms, grabs them with her hands, and leans over for you to capture a shot of her from the side with her back arched. Now you’re definitely hard, no question about it, but at least now there’s no way she could be mad at you for it. It’s her fault. She moves towards you, and you set the camera on the ground next to the pool.

“How’d they turn out?” she asks. Her arms reach around the back of your neck, and yours wrap around her waist.

“You’re evil,” you say into her neck before planting a few kisses there.

“Oh, how could you say that? It seems like you had a good time,” she says. Her hips grind forward against your cock; she wants you to know that she knows how hard she’s gotten you. “You know, to be really honest, Hosang, you’re the first guy I ever thought about while touching myself.”

Really?

“Why?”

“You’re an idiot- Oh, God,” she’s interrupted by moans as you kiss further down her neck. “I just like you, okay?

“Well I just like you, too. Always did,” you say.

“I hope so. Otherwise this could be kind of awkward,” she giggles. You withdraw from her neck to place a kiss on her temple, and finally, on her lips. She tastes so sweet, lips so soft, tongue so aggressive. Her hand grabs onto your hair and she forces your head to turn so she can deepen the kiss. Minjeong seems hungry, desperate. You sit back on the ledge with your high school crush in your lap, her legs around your waist. She’s got both hands on your face, and she observes you like some sort of specimen.

“What’s, uh, what’s up?” you say, eyebrows raised.

“Your face… As different as it is, it almost looks exactly the same as the face I fell for back then. And I think I’m falling for it again,” she says. You begin to speak, but she places a finger over your lips. “I know what you’re gonna say. Just don’t think about it right now. Don’t. Think. About anything.”

Between her words, she’s taking your hands in hers, and moving them to her bare chest. You swallow. Hard. She’s right. If only for tonight, for this weekend, for a week, you have to just let it go. Her breasts are soft, and she whimpers when you squeeze them. She giggles and moans through a toothy smile when you roll her nipples between your fingers. Minjeong is clay in your hands, melting under every single touch, and it’s your job to make this trip unforgettable for her, to mold her into shapes of pleasure she’s never felt before.

“You know there’s a sauna,” she whispers through gasps.

“Good idea,” you reply. Water falls from both of your bodies when you stand up with her still wrapped around you, clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree. A quick jog from the pool to the sauna, but the wind still manages to chill you both to the bone. The sauna, though, is comfortably warm. Minjeong in your lap again, you sit on the wooden bench and she devours your neck. Her tongue and breath are hot against your skin and the steam begins to make you sweat already. She stands and takes hold of your hand, beckoning you to follow suit; you stand close to her and she looks up to meet your eyes. Small hands make their way to your waistband.

“Can I?” she asks softly. You help her slide the trunks down your legs, and your cock springs out, painfully hard, smacking your stomach. Her hand wraps around it immediately, and she moves in to kiss you again. She moves her tongue slowly against yours and her hand works your length all the while; her delicate fingers find the precum dripping from your tip and spread it generously. Delicately, she kneels; cautiously, she licks your cock from the base to the tip before latching onto the head and giving gentle suction. She looks up at you with her deep brown eyes and you place your hands on her head. You’re gentle with her. Your fingers make their way through her hair, and you keep your hips as still as you can, so as not to overwhelm her. You feel the back of her throat suddenly, and a moan escapes your mouth briefly, before you slap your hand over it. Minjeong backs off and strokes you with her hand.

“Don’t… I want to hear you,” she says. You feel your cock twitch, and you let out a sigh. A soft moan when her strokes speed up. “Good…”

“What if someone-”

“If someone hears? They’ll leave. Don’t worry,” she says. She gives you a few more seconds of suction, tongue massaging your head, then stands back up. You switch places with her, only now, she casually strips her bottoms off and sits on the wooden bench. Her toned thighs spread apart slowly while you stand back to take her all in.

After all these years, there she is; imagine telling high school Hosang what’s happening right now. Forget moaning her name while I jerk off… She’s right there.

Beads of sweat roll down your face and body. Minjeong, too; she’s covered in dewdrops of her own. Somehow you think they must look better on her than they do on you. A deep breath, and you step towards her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly under your hands when you give her pert breasts some more attention. You’re on your knees, now, watching her face contort and listening to her voice catch in her throat. If she never wore a bra again, you’d surely be happy. Kisses planted down her body, from her sternum down her stomach, halting at her hipline. You take a moment to stroke her thighs softly with your fingertips, and they shudder. More kisses for her legs, from her ankles up her calves to her inner thighs. Her sweat is salty and sweet. How will the rest of her taste? You look at her again.

"What do you like?" you ask.

"I… I don't know."

"When you touch yourself, how do you do it?"

"That's embarrassing…"

"When you're using your hands, imagining they're mine, what do you do?"

"..."

"Show me, so I can do it for you." Minjeong’s eyes are half-lidded, lust-laden. When you look down at her perfect, trimmed pussy, it’s dripping; your words got to her. She takes hold of your right wrist and places your hand on her stomach, thumb on her clit.

“Slowly,” she whispers. You oblige, and slowly make circles on her clit, spreading her wetness over the sensitive nub. Her next move brings your left hand to her mouth. She sucks on your two middle fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. Wet enough now, she moves your hand, palm up, near her pussy, and nods. “Inside.” The walls of her pussy are so hot, so scorching hot, inch after inch engulfing your fingers. One curl of your fingers and she’s cursing, moaning, bucking her hips. Poor girl must be starving.

“Is that good for you, Minjeong?” you say. Your voice seems like it’s dropped an octave and slowed down about half a measure. It doesn’t matter; she can’t answer you, anyway. She’s busy stuttering out your name. Temptation gets the best of you and you move your thumb away. Minjeong whines, but it’s soon replaced by a near scream when your thumb is replaced by your tongue. As expected, she tastes incredible, some remnants of salt water from the pool, but overwhelmingly sweet underneath. She clenches around your fingers a bit.

“F- Oh my fucking-” Minjeong stutters. Her eyes roll back in her head. Her delicate fingers grip your hair, not so delicately. Rapid, shuddering breaths cause her toned stomach to rise and fall quickly, her arms and legs jerk, and the salty and sweet flavor floods your tongue. Unlatched from your hair, Minjeong’s hands grab your face and yank you up towards her face; as you stand, the tip of your cock grazes over her clit.

“Whoops,” she whispers. Her lips are warm and smooth when they lock onto yours. And you feel her hand creep down your abdomen. Your attempt to break the kiss is foiled with Minjeong’s arm around the back of your head, and her other hand moves up and down your shaft. She’s devious, smiling into the kiss as you fill her mouth with moans, tightly gripping your cock and twisting her hand with her up and down motions.

Kim Minjeong from high school is jerking me off. Kim Winter from Aespa is jerking me off.

It’s a mindfuck. She kneads the back of your neck and sucks on your tongue. You can’t fuck her in a public sauna… Can you?

“Minjeong…” you whisper against her cheek. She looks at you innocently. Like someone who isn’t driving you crazy.

“What?” she giggles.

“How about we go to your room? Could be bad if, you know, someone sees us,” you mumble.

“How about once here, and a few more times there?” she says with a wink. “It’s late, baby… No one will come up.”

‘Baby.’

Minjeong guides you towards her pussy with the hand that had never left your cock. Her legs rest on your shoulders, and you grip her pillowy soft thighs to brace yourself for impact, for entry. Her heat begins to swallow your length, quite easily due to how wet and aroused she is, and she makes the hottest noise she’s made the whole night. And now you’re hilted in Kim Minjeong in a hotel sauna with an unlocked door. Her nails scratch at your chest and shoulders frantically.

“God, so full…” she moans.

“You want me to fuck you now?” you put the sultry voice back on. She nods. “When you’re using your toys, imagining they’re me…”

“Please, Hosang, just fuck me,” she pleads. “However you want. However you need.” It’s all you need to hear, certainly. You pull out nearly all the way, and watch your cock disappear inside of her with a grunt. Your thumbs nearly touch as you wrap your hands around her small waist to pull her down around your shaft with every thrust. All inhibitions are gone, any restraints have been lifted; you’re slamming into her hard, and the both of you moan loudly enough for the reception desk to hear. Minjeong’s tight abs contract and relax under your hands, you look at her face to see her drooling with her eyes rolled back. Like, actually, really drooling.

“Fuck, babe… You’re really enjoying this, huh?” you say gruffly. You swipe your thumb over her chin and she leans down to suck on it instead. Lustful eyes meet your gaze and your thumb pops out of her lips.

“I’ve been waiting so long,” she says. A quick sigh to punctuate her sentence. “So many years…”

“Well-” you try to speak, but she clenches herself around you. “Fuck. I don’t think I can wait any longer than I already have-”

“Pull out baby,” she sighs. “I want to swallow you.”

Regretfully, you withdraw from Minjeong’s tight hole, but the steam keeps your cock rather warm while she kneels down. After a lick from the base to the tip, she takes you all the way into her throat. She takes your hands and places them on her head, looking up at you sinfully. With fistfuls of her dark hair, you pull back, and thrust in again. She gags and coughs, but she never gives up, and soon, you’re shooting rope after rope, nearly convulsing in pleasure. She strokes you into her open mouth, wringing every drop out of your spent cock. When she’s satisfied, she swallows and stands up to kiss your neck and chest.

“How about… How about we go to the room?” she says.

“You want me to stay with you tonight?” you ask. She laughs a bit. Her laugh is fluttering and adorable, a sharp contrast with the noises she was making moments earlier.

“Of course.”

After getting dressed and gathering Minjeong’s things, you head upstairs. In the elevator, you stand behind her; she grinds back onto your groin and brings your hands to her chest. Floors fly by and the number on the small screen goes up as you massage her chest and her delicate moans get you painfully hard once again. She rushes in front of you to the room, giving you another view of those creamy, toned legs, and you do your best to catch up. Once inside, she sits on the bed in front of you and waits. Her hands travel slowly from her hips to her knees, and even slower she parts them with her hands to reveal the glistening skin peeking out from her bikini. Her breath hitches when you step forward and gaze down at her.

“I showed you what to do last time,” Minjeong whispers. “I want to see what you’ll do on your own.”

“No pressure, right?” you joke, and she smiles. Her thighs are soft and malleable in your hands, and her neck softer under your lips. You untie the bikini top and cast it to the side, then kiss further and further down her neck. Kisses travel down her neck, over her collarbones, down to her sternum. There’s still salt from the pool on her skin, and you lick towards her nipple before giving it a bite. Minjeong jumps slightly and closes her fists in your hair. Your mouth works on one nipple and your hand kneads the other breast, perfectly sized for your hand. After switching sides once or twice, you kiss her stomach. Her hands move to your shoulders as you kneel on the floor in front of her.

Minjeong’s legs are wide open. You slide your fingers into the waistband of the swimsuit and slowly drag the bottoms down. More kisses travel from her knees across her inner thighs and up to her hip bones. She’s still dripping for you and you drag your tongue upwards over her pussy slowly to savor her. You spit on your fingers and slip them inside of her easily.

“Ohhh my God-” she whispers and bucks her hips. “Go faster…”

“Mm, so impatient, Minjeong,” you reply. Your tongue returns to her clit and makes smooth circles. She tenses around your fingers when you curl them back towards you, her moans growing louder, grip on your hair growing stronger. Taking her by surprise, you withdraw your fingers and stand up. While her hands work automatically on pulling your swim trunks down, you take a moment to just gaze at her. Her ruffled, semi-wet hair, strands sticking to her forehead and swaying wildly as she kisses up your thighs. Her flushed, glistening skin, cheeks inflating and deflating with the waves of pleasure coursing up your torso as your length disappears into her mouth again. Her pretty shoulders and arms. Her nose buried in your stomach.

Fuck.

“You’re really good at that,” you moan. With a yelp Minjeong is scooped up into your arms and tossed, more or less, onto the pristine hotel bed. She pats the bed beside her, and you get the message. You lie back and let her mount you. She guides your tip to her entrance, and once in line, she slams her hips down aggressively. You’re content to let her ride. Her body moves in mesmerizing ways as she grinds on you, seeking the best angle for your cock to rub against all the right places. Just as soon as you begin thrusting into her, your phone starts ringing.

“Dammit, sorry, Minjeong,” you curse and remove the girl from your lap. Fucking spam call? Really? With the phone silenced, you turn around to see her lying back on the pillows.

Like an animal, you crawl towards her; you feel like one at least, with the way your cock is throbbing. She pulls her legs up for you, and you guide your tip towards her dripping center. The warm feeling envelops you again and you sigh, eyes closed. Your hands find her waist and keep her torso still while you begin to drive into her. You almost can’t even hear her whines anymore, her voice punctuated by each thrust, curses and iterations of your name following every other sound.

“-nside me,” Minjeong’s voice fades in as your stupor breaks a bit. You lean forward and make a confused expression. “Cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me…”

And something about the way she says it just obliterates any second thoughts you may or may not have had. Her high, airy voice, begging for such an impure action, intensifies the warm, wet pleasure surrounding your cock. It only gets warmer and wetter as your cum dumps into Minjeong, deeper and deeper inside of her, coating your shaft, dribbling out onto the sheets. Your thrusts slow down, but your dick stays inside; you’re tired. You wrap your arms around her waist, and lie down gently on top of her with your face in her neck. She administers gentle scratches to your scalp.

“You came so much, Hosang,” she whispers. Her legs settle around your back.

“Drained all my energy,” you laugh weakly.

“You’re heavy. Can we switch?” she says. So you do; you roll onto your back. Your cock slips out in the meantime, and you both laugh about it. She fits in your arms like she was made for them.

For a long while you lie there. The cold air condition and the crisp sheets are a welcome contrast to your steaming hot skin and the panting, sweating furnace lying on top of you. Minjeong painstakingly brings her hand to your cheek and kisses the other with soft lips. A slow blink. A thought in your mind.

Is this what it feels like?

“What are you thinking about?” she asks. She knows.

“How do you feel about me?” you reply. Her expression is mixed.

“How do I feel… I feel like there’s a reason we ended up on this trip together,” she answers. Her body rises as you take a deep breath. “I mean I feel like something brought us together.”

“What do you want to do about it?” you ask.

“I want to find out why. There must be a reason this happened, you know?” she says. A small yawn. “Like… There must be something waiting at the end of a journey we can take together to find out. Or something.”

Together? A journey?

“Think it might be time for you to go to sleep,” you whisper. Her baby hairs stick to your face when you kiss her temple. The sheets are smooth and cool when you pull them up over Minjeong’s body and yours. She falls asleep quickly. You don’t. You’re thinking about IFR plans and what to say to her in the morning. Your fingers trace along the smooth skin of her hips and lower back for a while. The softness is comforting. And you fall asleep.

Is this part gonna go in the blog post?

#aespa fanfic #winter x male reader #aespa x reader #aespa x male reader #aespa smut #winter smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

1K notes · View notes

pixiesfz · 2 months

Note

It make me so sad that’s there is not much lotte or Teagan content on here 😭

I’m gonna mix my two requests for teagan together!!

take the punch t.m

plot: you take a hard punch in a corner kick, turns out it’s from the girl you’ve been talking to for months.

warnings: injury, aggression from teammates, Player gets hit in the face and player is only given a yellow also I am NOT a doctor

You stared at your phone and the messages that were on it.

More specifically the girl behind the messages.

You had met Teagan at the start of the season on her debut as Liverpools goal keeper.

She had been a pain in your ass.

saving your shots left right and centre, it annoyed you but impressed you so much that you went up to her afterwards.

“Teagan is it?” You ask, walking up to her and she nodded “uh yeah, your y/n” she responded and you nodded “you know your really good” you told her “wasn’t fun for me but you know” you laugh and she laughed with you.

“I was honestly very scared to go against you” she admitted and you rose your eyebrows “really?” You ask and she nodded “watched you in the World Cup when Australia versed you, got those goals past us like it was nothing”

Oh yes, you remember that day.

“Sorry for kicking you guys out” you said softly and she shook her head “nah it’s all good, had me mesmerised to be honest”

You blushed, “yeah?” you ask and the goal keeper nodded “definitely”.

Before you could response you felt the hands of your teammate drag you away “Chloe!” You complained as she smiled at you

“No fraternising with the enemy y/n/n”

“Shut up”.

When you went to bed that night you didn’t expect to wake up to a dm from the Australian.

‘I really hope this is your account and not just a very popular fan account’

And for the first time in a while you woke up with a smile.

After a month or so of talking online with the girl your teammates noticed a change in your behaviour.

You were smiling in the morning, trying new things for breakfast and pestering Mary and Alanna for Australian facts.

One day Alanna turned towards you “Alright who is it?”

“Who is what?”

“Who is the girl that is getting you all…giddy”

You stepped back “there is no girl”

“There is such a girl, who knew our little German could find love?” She grinned and pulled you into a loving headlock.

“Fine” you grunted “there is a girl” you admitted and cheers filled the room.

“Who is it?”

“Does she play?”

“Do we know her?”

“Please don’t let it be a physio”

You turned to Jill weirdly “what?” You asked and she just shrugged before you turned back to your teammates.

“I’m not going to tell her name yet just in case it doesn’t go well, yes she plays and yes some of you know her well”

You gave away your hints before the team realised it could literally be anyone in the WSL.

“Can you at least tell us the team?” Mary asked, using her power of being one of the younger, cuter members of the squad.

“No.”

You were on a FaceTime with the Australian when she made the first move “Do you want to go on another date with me?” She asked after the topic of your worst date ever came up.

You smiled bright, a blush burning on your cheeks but you were so ever happy “I would love to, we can walking on the beach again”.

“Well we have the Liverpool vs City game coming up next week so after that” she declared “nah, I was thinking something fancier, we can go on a nice dinner and-“

“I want you to surprise me” you cut her off “I want to know what your creative Australian mind thinks of”

“Well mostly it’s you” she chimed in and you groaned, rolling your eyes “oh shut up”

Teagan laughed at your reaction, smiling at the way you reacted to her cheesy pick up lines.

Texts back and forth between the two of you did not help your nerves for the game ahead of you. But mostly you were more nervous for the activities afterwards.

You had ended up confiding to your national teammate Lena about your situation ship with the Aussie, not letting your club teammates know just yet.

But when the game ends and the girls see you walking out the doors with Teagan they'll find out who your mystery girl is anyway so with your blood rushing and head spinning you finally and well accidently tell your man city teammate and unfortunately Teagan's international teammate Mary.

"Really?" she responds to your quick words as you laid them out quickly, you just blushed harder before she gives you a thinking face "well that makes sense".

You furrow your brows "how-why- how does it make sense?" you ask, your arms moving with your words "well last international break she seemed much happier and that was after we versed Liverpool and if we weren't at trainings she was like stuck on her phone"

You stepped back at your friends words, You and Teagan had only successfully been able to go on one date together by the time the first international break came over, it brough a smile to your face realizing that she was in a similar state as you afterwards.

"I can help you two!"

"Mary I will not allow this to become a primary school relationship!"

Soon the game was here, you were lined up with your team in the tunnel, not in the starting XI but still in your gear as a sub. Mary was behind you, still the only teammate who knew about Teagan.

"look who's watching" she teased and you turned red, quickly turning around and smacking her arm "stop" you instructed and turned towards Teagan who was near the front of her line, she was already smiling at your interaction with Mary but gave you a small wave which you copied before you all walked out.

"that hurt" Mary rubbed her arm "deal with it".

You weren't subbed on until the second half, City were up by one as Lauren sent one through Teagan's fingers and into the net. You saw Teagan dust herself off as you ran on, her eyes fell on you for a second before going back onto the play which you joined in on quickly after.

Jess had scored not long after and you cheered after her, jumping onto her back with a smile. You wanted to look back to Teagan to see if she was doing okay but you were in your element, playing the sport you love and in this case winning!

In the 87th minute Kerstin weaved through the midfield and in between defenders as you lead towards the goal, her eyes darted towards you and sent you the ball, you jumped to header it in and then black.

The crowd watched as you jumped in the air, the ball hitting the front of your forehead and unfortunately the fist of Teagan's hands hitting the back, causing you to fall forward straight on the floor which you stayed.

Teagan all of a sudden didn't care about the ball that hit the back of the net and quickly dropped down to you, rolling you on your back so you faced up to her. "Oh my god-"

Teagan was cut off as your teammates pulled her away "Get off of her Micah" someone called out, Mary, cringing on the sidelines as she couldn't split her teammates and her friend apart. The words were catching your ears as you stirred awake to whatever had just happened to you.

Teagan ignored the man city players pesters and kept her eyes on you "please I just want to see if she's okay" she told them but Alanna pulled her back as medics ran on "Teagan she's not going to want to see you" she told her and Teagan crossed her head "I was supposed to ask her to be my girlfriend tonight" she told Alanna and the tall Australian stepped back and looked back over to you with wide eyes.

"let her go over".

Teagan ran over to you as the medics sat you up, The referee also showing her a yellow card but she didn't care.

"Hmm- Teags" you slurred as the girl came into your view "what happened?" you ask and the girl pursed her lips.

"Kinda punched you in the face"

"Oh" you said, not really gaining the information, a clear concussion on your behalf

Teagan watched as you were taken off by medics and went back into her box, the game quickly changed in the last ten minutes, the crowd was quiet and the teams weren't playing as hard, Liverpool excepting their defeat and man city not celebrating their win.

Not without you.

You were taken into the medics room before they quickly decided to take you to the hospital for a CT scan.

Meanwhile at the game, some of the players skipped the walk around the field to talk with fans and checked to see where you were. Hospital was what word was heard and Teagan along-side with Man city players were on their way.

Teagan drove herself, maybe going a bit faster than usual but you were on her mind, this was her fault.

She had had a concussion before, a bad concussion, it took her out for months on the team. She didn't want the same for you.

She was the first to arrived still in her kit, your teammates walked in five minutes later, quickly seeing the girl and walking up to her "you don't have to take pity on her" Kerstin said, Lauren quickly following "a quick DM would have been fine for her", their words were filled with pettiness which Alanna and Mary quickly shut down.

"They're not strangers" Mary said quickly and they all turned their heads "what?" Chloe questioned, Leia still stepping up to the Goal keeper "then what are they?"

"She's the girl".

Leia stepped back as Chloe gasped "oh my god, we are so sorry" Teagan just nodded, she ignored their comments her mind strictly on you "she was gonna tell you today after the game"

"before you punched her"

"useful information, thankyou Mary"

All the girls sat down, waiting for you "do you think she'll be mad?" Teagan asked Alanna who shook her head "she knows what she signed up for when she took that header, she knows the game" the blonde said and Teagan just nodded, still not convinced you wont cuss her out when you see her.

You sat in the room, looking at the scans, you would have a month off which you nodded your head at "I know it's not ideal but you have to be on a bed rest for about a week and you will have to miss the next international break for Germany" the doctor told you and you once again nodded your head.

"But you will be well enough for the Olympic but if you don't make it to the finals then you'll be out until the end of the season"

You sniffed, rolling your head back to stop any tears. You were sure Man city would make it to the finals with how they were playing, but if you missed a month you weren't sure if you would get any minutes on the film.

You had seen how time off had done for others, you didn't want that to be you.

You walked out of the room looking defeated as ever, your teammates were the first to walk to you, checking up on you with little questions before Kerstin gave you a hug, silently apologizing for her kick which you told her was not her fault.

It was nobodies fault.

When they all walked away, Mary softly turned your head towards the Liverpool keeper who had left to grab flowers from one of the stalls nearby.

"I thought you would have gone home" you said, relieved at the sight of her "and go to the dinner by myself?" she joked and you softly laughed.

You touched the back of your head "I don't think I look nice enough for a fancy dinner right now" you said and Teagan stepped forward her arm raising towards yours "Well personally I think you look amazing"

You blushed as she she tucked your hair you had taken out behind your ear "how long are you out for?" she asked "only a month" you smiled "that's really good Y/n" she started before looking down "I'm really sorry I just wasn't thinking and-"

You cut her off y quickly pecking her lips, distracting her completely as she widened her eyes "I don't blame you Teagan" you said, grabbing the flowers with one hand and grabbing her other hand with the other.

"So you're not mad?"

You creased your eyebrows "of course not" she let out a sigh of relief "well that's good, might have to cancel our plans though" she said and you smirked "how bout we order take out at mine?"

"yeah?"

"yes."

#woso #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso community #matildas #teagan micah #teagan micah x reader #liverpool #mancity

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agendabymooner · 8 months

Text

MASTERLIST: A-N F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner

LINK TO MASTERLIST: O-Z F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner

LINK TO SOMETHING SINFUL (SMUT) MASTERLIST by agendabymooner (MINORS DNI)

note: I CANNOT OFFICIALLY FIT MY WORKS IN ONE POST 😭 so here is my alphabetical f1 masterlist!!!

legends/genre:

a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour

s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff

★ - newly added ♡ - favourite piece

ALSO CHECK OUT:

MOONY'S CHARACTER DIRECTORY

MOONY'S FILIPINO CHARACTERS DIRECTORY

alex albon (aa23)

front page lover (thai!kpop idol!ofc)

keeper, smau: polly berkshire has obscure interactions with her thirsty boyfriend and it's safe to say that they love each other.

fashion week, smau: the williams driver and polly always got something for everyone to talk about.

double aa, socmed snapshot: a series of instagram stories in which alex is a dad to alice albon

fernando alonso (fa14)

the breakup and makeup series (pro wrestler!ofc)

time to rock and roll, fic: the first time beatrice staedtlander and fernando alonso had broken up. (hc) ♡

heaven, smau: back in 2000s, fernando alonso and beatrice anastasia 'trish' staedtlander were every racing and wrestling fans' couple. years after, trish alonso became a mother and a wife... and the grid's crush of the season. fernando was certainly not happy so what's a better way to remind everyone that he was hers? (f, g, h)

from the ground up, smau: tino and tiago alonso were the twins that trish had given birth to at the age of 40, and everyone understood now why she didn't make it to the 2024 canadian gp. (f)

look what god gave her, smau: beatrice 'trish' alonso survived fernando's messy image better than anybody did. (f, g, h)

bonnie and the fame

maneater, smau: bonnie catherine sutton was carlos sainz's ex-girlfriend who returned to the f1 scene as a different woman. turns out, she's fernando alonso's fiancée (f)

ego, smau: never underestimate a woman's self-esteem, it might end up wounding you more than it would her.

oliver bearman (ob8)

ice ice baby, smau: kimi raikkonen's daughter romania raikkonen debuted in formula one with her friends AND it's safe to say that the iceman doesn't like ollie that much.

jenson button (jb22)

pride and pettiness (x british!actress!ofc)

one, 2004: in which, ada and jenson met for the first time.

the mr. darcy type, smau: much like the popular love interest, jenson should have known better than to say things that wouldn't impress a woman he grew interested in. OR ada abbott made sure that he worked hard for her time and attention. (f) ♡

shunt the hell up! (x hunt!driver!ofc)

shunt your lovers, kiss your enemies. smau: it was funny how enemies can be your teammate AND your lover at the same time. OR jj hunt, the daughter of the late james hunt, was jenson's biggest rival until a certain baby predicament cost her her entire racing career. (g) ♡

other works

affection, blurb: in which, jenson learned that he should just say it without being a little too drunk.

pierre gasly (pg10)

newsflash, smau: ensley soleil doesn’t like playboys. too bad, pierre gasly’s down bad for her (attention and love). (f, g, h)

odds, fic: their timing was always wrong, maybe that's why pierre should consider making it even for the two of them as she writes songs about him and their courtship. ★

lowkey, smau: fans thought that pierre moved on from ensley four months after publicly declaring his (love?) for her. funnily enough... (f, g, h)

indigo, chatfic + smau: there's really no reason for pierre gasly to be jealous over some man that ensley wrote 'high school in jakarta' about. not when she wrote one or more songs about the frenchman. (f) ♡

high school in jakarta, fic: meeting ensley’s close friends would also mean that he’d have to meet her high school sweetheart, who he believed he couldn’t compete against until ensley ensured that his two-day attendance wouldn’t be spoiled by some guy who couldn’t let go of some memories she couldn’t even remember. ♡

dancing with the devil, smau: ensley soleil doesn't care about what people are saying about her relationship with pierre especially now that she's married to him. (f)

vintage, smau: pierre gasly is a husband and a fanboy of ensley soleil gasly amongst other things. (f)

hot dad era, socmed snapshot: pierre gasly. 30% f1 driver 70% dilf. ★

other works

do i make you nervous, blurb: lesson learned: just date her first rather than being friendly in the bed.

lewis hamilton (lh44)

stevie and lewis (hearth sister!ofc)

thick and thin, smau + fic: lewis should know better than underestimating her and her capabilities to yearn for him for years. (hc)

hands on and paws on, socmed snapshot: lewis is a stay-at-home dad to lottie hamilton and his best boy, roscoe, happens to watch his mummys everywhere she goes as she carries baby hamilton #2. ★

the hamilton daycare, fic: lewis is already a stay-at-home dad so what makes his day out in monaco with his two kids any different? (f) (2/3 of daddy, debriefed!)

where the bad girls are (kpop idol!ofc)

lifted, smau: lewis is married to a kpop idol who happened to be one of the girls to shape the image of female groups in the korean pop community.

crowned couple (x miss universe!ofc)

the couple of the universe, smau: lewis is a careless being this season and everyone's wondering why.

melody series (x performer!ofc)

summary: with her sharp eyes focused on her audience, a burlesque performer who went under the name of melody returned to rythme romantique, an entertainment lounge which exclusively caters to the wealthiest people of monaco — or in this case, to the people with a status that are recognized by all. her three exclusive performances were meant to be a closure for her connections in the principality. still, a certain formula one driver saw it as an opportunity to reconnect with his former flame after two years of her absence. felicity vos learned that this was a rich man’s world and that he could do whatever he wanted, but she also realized that the agreement they settled on years ago was corrupted the moment he expressed his love for her.

one, million dollar man: monaco was a world of glitz and glamour that she left two years ago. returning to the principality clearly was a huge mistake as she found herself talking to the man who swore to nothing but his love for her.

two, this is what makes us girls: "decorum isn't something you can buy with money or fame." or what did lewis really want from her and why did he show up on the second night of her performance?

arthur leclerc (al12)

the scheming schumachers, smau: sunny schumacher is mick's cousin and what does a family do? they attract arthur leclerc to get him away from his best friend, who happens to be mick's girlfriend. thankfully, the schumacher cousin is something of a welcome distraction for the monegasque.

charles leclerc (cl16)

the leclerc boys series (x hearth sister!ofc)

debunking drama, smau: prequel to of long lines and names; aimee hearth, the mclaren media manager and one of the famous hearth sisters, was rumoured to be dating lando norris. a certain monegasque's baffled reaction became a trending topic in twitter as he counteracts the rumour with an instagram post of his lover. (f, h)

of long lines and names, fic: five kids with (almost) five names under six years. OR the three pregnancies that charles had witnessed told him how motherhood and memories could come in two sets of twins and a boy that looked so much like him. (f)

the leclerc daycare, fic: before his last set of twins were born, charles had to watch his boys on his own- not exactly by himself when he's got esteban and pierre acting as his right hand men. (f) (1/3 of daddy, debriefed!) ♡

about names, scenario fics

summary: extension to of long lines and names and the leclerc daycare; charles and aimee's boys and their names go hand in hand OR times when the couple had to tell their kids that their names were signs of love and respect for their namesakes.

one, an amazing boy with an amazing name: hervé's anger left his parents confused after he refused to be called by his first name. thankfully, his mamé pascale had an easy access to his heart that eventually led to an answer to his sadness.

two, the wingman of maranello: jules leclerc learned two things as he travelled to italy with his father: he had an uncle named uncle teague and uncle teague had a best friend that was once charles' godfather.

other pieces

"slut", smau: charles' ex trashed his new girlfriend a while ago, but too bad he wasn't really into the thought of making music with anyone but lou villar.

breaking curses not hearts, smau: frankie bardot atkinson was also known for her curse in the film industry. after breaking her long streaked curse and finally won an oscar, was it finally charles' time to break his curse at monza gp?

kevin magnussen (km20)

family ties, smau: lando norris forgot that his brother-in-law is in the grid with him and lola norris magnussen couldn't help but make of her brother for it.

lando norris (ln4)

lover era (x alessandro sister!writer!ofc)

london boy, smau: nicola 'cola' alessandro moved to britain and what's a better way to introduce yourself to england than taking a trip around with a certain mclaren driver? (f, g, h)

i think he knows, smau: grazia nichols published her debut novel based off formula one, and a fan could have sworn that the the book bf - nolan langford - was based off of lando's character as a driver altogether. (f, g, h)

✿ honey, honey! series masterlist - lando norris x ofc (honey-sue lewis) ft. sidemen ★

f1 drivers (general)

✿ 9 to 5 series masterlist - f1 grid x ofc (lester alessandro) ft. fictional wolff kids

too much caring, smau, sv5 + jb22: kpop idol juno was assumed to have cheated on retired driver jenson button with his best mate sebastian vettel. oh how wrong those people were... ★

#formula one masterlist #f1 masterlist #formula one fic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula one smau #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 masterlist #formula one series

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l0uterstella · 22 days

Text

CHARACTER DESIGN NOTES FROM THE 4GAMER INTERVIEW

🍎 HALLRITT - "I told them that I absolutely wanted to include the ribbon in the upper right corner, no matter how cute it turned out to be. It also includes the image of Kitty's blue overalls on his suspenders. The yellow ribbon on his boots is an image of Kitty's twin, Mimmy."

🎼MEROLD - "He was drawn together with Blue Bouquet's Kurode. My Melody wears a hood, as she was originally designed as a "Little Red Riding Hood". The slit on the side was inspired by the design of the slit under My Melody's neck."

🍀PURUTH - "Since Pompompurin is a golden retriever, one of many dog designs, the belt-like thing coming out of his waist has the image of a leash. The shoes on the left and right sides are different, reflecting Purin's hobby of collecting and hiding one shoe on each side."

🌹 ROMARRICHE - "The silhouette of Marroncream's puff sleeves is expressed by wearing a cape. The floral pattern and polka dots are also inspired by her. We have not yet shown the back view, but there is also a lot of attention to detail hidden in the cape."

🐟 RIMICHA - "Kirimi-chan was the first runner-up in the "Eating Character General Election," so we gave him a distinctive mouth. Also, the asymmetry of his hair expresses their (Kirimichan) original silhouette, which is voluminous on the right side. The fishnet stockings are an image of a grill…!"

🌺 SANAH - "Usahana is a character who values the colorful colors she gets from the sky and flowers, so we took advantage of that. Also, around the year 2000, when Usahana debuted, sticker exchanges were popular, so we also incorporated that image into the design."

☁ CIELOMORT - "While also expressing Cielomort's royal and mysterious image, we incorporated motifs from Cinnamoroll, such as "clouds," "sky," and "white puppy". Cinnamoroll is also characterized by his swirling tail, so we made Cielomort's hair curly as well."

👿 KURODE - "As far as the spiritual nature is concerned, the theme of "becoming who you want to be" is the basis of Kuromi's work, and it makes use of the visual sense of "The World Kuromification Project". In contrast to the fluffy cuteness of Merold, I imagined a darker cuteness."

✉️ WILLMESH - "Wish Me Mell is a postman's helper, so he is given a mail bag and a brooch with a sealing wax motif. The polka dot pattern on Wish Me Mell's palm is reproduced with a polka dot bandage."

💫 KLARKSTELLA - "Kiki and Lala are "dreamy and cute" and "starry-eyed," so we developed them from there and based the costume on the image of pajamas. The twin-leaf-like hair on the top of her head is also inspired by Kiki and Lala. Another point is that they are tall."

🌟 LOUTERSTELLA - "His basic image is just the same as Klarkstella's, but we were careful to not simply make them different colors. They both have a dreamy atmosphere, but not too cute, and I think they have beautiful designs with a mythological mystery."

🌾 MYUNNA - "The design of the "spirit of flour" is based on the "fragile cuteness" of Cogimyun, who looks as if he might be blown away and turned into powder. Also, the back of his dress is a silhouette of Cogimyun's pet shrimp, and the decorations on his shoes are also based on her signature."

🐊 BADOBARM - "Bad Badztamaru's mischievous boyish atmosphere has been reproduced as a life-size male figure. Also, the "Xs and Os" shape, which is often used by Bad Badztmaru himself, is used in many of the costume decorations. By the way, Badztmaru's pet crocodile is called "Pochi," while the crocodile-shaped fairy with Badobarm is "Tama.""

🐶 CHACO - "We tried to express Pochacco's silhouette and his skateboarding element with the image of a very active child. We were particular about the balance of colors so that it would not be monotone, so we gave the hair color a unique look so that it would not be similar to other children."

🐣 ARUPEK - "From Ahiru No Pekkle's treasured bucket, we gave him a water pistol as an element for water. The large feet are also reproduced in his shoes. The hunting cap has a bird-like silhouette. The "1989" on the patch is Pekkle's debut year!"

🐧 TUXAM - "Tuxedo Sam is a gentlemanly penguin boy who has studied abroad in England, so we kept his noble image in mind. His hat is a combination of the sailor hat Sam wears and the hat of Sherlock Holmes... Who is famous in England. On the stick is an ice cream cone that Sam often spills."

🐙 HANGYON - "We designed the bewitching element based on Hangyodon, a half-fish man born in China. The round eyes are represented by sunglasses, and the pink color of Hangyodon's lips is incorporated into the lenses and makeup. The fairy on his shoulder, "Lily," was inspired by Sayuri, an octopus who is a good friend of Hangyodon."

🐸 PIKERO - "Since his lord's real name is "Keroppi Hasunoue (Keroppi above a lotus)", we added a black pattern to the umbrella to make it look like a lotus leaf. Also, it is hard to tell, but his eyes are pink, which represents the color of Keroppi's cheeks. His overall image is not Chinese, but Vietnamese."

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foreingersgod · 1 month

Note

I love love love your writing! I was wondering if you could write something about cc dating a pop star, very much chappel roan vibes

y’all must be reading my mind! this is perfect!

Red Wine Supernova . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: you’re an upcoming queer pop star who just happens to be dating the hottest player in the wnba (set slightly in the future just for the sake of plot!)

it was off season for caitlin and she was so relieved to have time off from practices and games for a while. she had now devoted all her attention to you, hardly leaving your side these past few weeks. you, on the other hand, were just starting your debut tour. a small one, only a handful of destinations, but incredibly important (and sold out) nonetheless.

yes, caitlin had heard you sing, several times in fact. but she’d been too busy with everything that she had yet to see you perform live, outside of your home studio when it was just the two of you. so when she told you that she wanted to tag along with you for the entirety of your tour, you were practically beaming with excitement.

you had worked really hard on this album and you were thrilled to finally be able to perform it to your growing fan base. you loved performing in the bustling bars of your hometown and the stadiums in surrounding cities, but you’ve always known you were meant for bigger and better things; you wanted to travel the nation and share your songs with so many different people. you were even more excited, though, to have caitlin see you up on stage. something more than just a karaoke stage in a dingy bar with just your guitar and the intensity of your voice. no matter where you sang, caitlin still made it her mission to tell you how amazing you were and how she couldn’t wait to see how much of an amazing star you were turning out to be.

“wow, just…wow” caitlin said, speechless, when she walked into your dressing room for your first show in Chicago.

you, with the help of your entire team and manager, had just got into costume. a purple leotard that dazzled with thousands of hand placed gems. pink fishnets, white go go boots, a matching purple cowboy hat, and a dozen other miscellaneous accessories to pull together the outfit.

you looked up, still trying to pull your leotard into a comfortable position, when you heard her walk in. “hey, i was gonna meet you outside! everything ok?”

“yea no we’re all good,” she looked up and down, lips slightly parted “i just couldn’t wait to see you”

“well i’m glad you came, like the outfit?” your assistants stepped away, sliding past caitlin at the door to give you both some privacy before the show, as you gave caitlin a full twirl of the outfit.

“i love it, you look beautiful, people won’t be able to take their eyes off of you” she said “and if we’re being honest…i can’t wait to take this off of you tonight”

you felt your face heat up underneath your show makeup. “a bit cheeky tonight, i see”

“well when you look so good all the time, how could i not be” she grinned, pulling you into her chest and hugging you deeply before stage management gave you a 3 minute warning. “you’re going to do so good, i’ll be watching!”

“i’ll find you in the crowd, don’t worry” a quick peck on the lips and you were being escorted to the wings of the stage before you knew it.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

“HELLOOOOOO, CHICAGO!!” you cheered into the mic, waving to fans and hyping up the crowd “i’m so happy to perform for ya’ll tonight, this has been an absolute dream of mine”

you gave the classic introduction speech: getting the crowd warmed up, announcing the songs, teaching them the dances that went along with each song. it was cliche, for sure, but you loved it. it felt like you were meant to do this your whole life. once you got rolling, getting comfortable on the stage, the feeling only got better. this was truly a dream come true.

you performed your most popular songs, along with a few of your more lesser known ones, and had the time of your life watching all of your fans sing along to something you had written. you spotted caitlin a few times through the show, watching her sing along too and cheer your name, and it made you incredibly happy to see her support you.

“alright guys, this next one’s a song i’ve been keeping from you for quite some time” the crowd whispered to each other in anticipation “but i think tonight…y’all have earned it” cheers erupted from the audience.

“i wrote thing song a while back, when i met a certain…someone…” you grinned, purposefully avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend “and i fell head over heels for her the second i saw her…so without further ado…here’s RED WINE SUPERNOVA!”

your band started playing and the audience was already dancing and cheering. you were incredibly nervous to perform a new song, and little embarrassed knowing that caitlin was going to finally here a song you wrote about her from months and months ago. but the moment you sung into the microphone, you knew she was going to love it.

through out the song, you gave quick glances over to caitlin, trying not to be obvious while wanting to see if she was enjoying it or not. but you were struggling to find her this time with the change in set lighting.

then suddenly you found her, your eyes meeting, and you instantly noticed the goofy grin plastered on her face as she watched you sing about her. still making eye contact, you continued to sing:

Well, back at my house

I got a California king

you walked over to the end of the stage, with eyes still locked.

Okay, maybe it's a twin bed

And some roommates (don't worry we're cool)

you watched her laugh as she caught on to your inside joke.

I heard you like magic

I got a wand and a rabbit

you pointed out to her and she ran her hands over her blushing face in playful embarrassment.

So baby, let's get freaky, get kinky

Let's make this bed get squeaky!

you blew a final kiss to her, the crowd interpreting it as a cute part of your routine, but she knew you had meant it just for her.

you danced around stage for the remainder of your song, kneeling down time to time to hold your fans hand and letting them sing along with you. when your set ended, you bowed to the crowd and said your finally goodbyes and thank you’s, then quickly running off stage and into your dressing room.

after catching your breathe, you started to take off your makeup and costume, again with the help of your team. caitlin had texted you shortly after that she’d meet you outside the venue so that you could have a little time to talk with your team.

once dressed in a fresh tshirt and jeans, face washed and hair tamed, you grabbed your bags and headed out to find your girlfriend. you found her waiting right outside the venue entrance where she was leaning against a post and checking her phone. she looked up almost instantly upon hearing you call her name and hearing your footsteps against the pavement.

“hey superstar!” she ran over to you, you dropped your bags to the ground as you threw your arms around the back of her neck “you fucking killed it!”

“thanks, cait” you pulled away, smashing your lips into hers feverishly “ d’you like the new song?” you muttered against her lips.

“oh i loved it” she kissed you again “you know…suddenly i’m really into magic”

“is that so?”

“definitely, and i think i got a few tricks to show you back at the hotel, how does that sound?” she cradled your jaw, nipping at your bottom lip. you tried your hardest to suppress a moan.

“take me home, clark”

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb #chappell roan

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bella-goths-wife · 2 months

Note

I wasn't sure initially but after reading them all I must admit I've enjoyed your Yandre Vs x pet posts and love Velvette in particular. Can you do something similar but just for Velvette? Either Yandre, she owns your soul or just an obsessive girlfriend (general neutral reader).

Yandere girlfriend velvette

Warnings: obsessive behaviour but not as bad as pet series, reader is an objectively bad person but in a the devil wears Prada way, ooc velvette?

This isn’t canon to the pet series and is a completely different au! So reader is not pet and is treated significantly better

First of all, you’d have to be something special for velvette to treat you as an equal, let alone develop a romantic relationship with

And you were definitely something special

You were a fashionista demon who died in the 2000s, but your death would not stop you from building an empire

You created unique clothing pieces that blended the fun and freeness of the previous generations with a fresh Y2K style

Think monster high outfits, your outfits held darker and lighter tones blended together which incorporated different cultures from all over the world

You also had a unique ability that helped you with this, you had the ability to put your emotions into the clothing you’d handcrafted

Literally, so if you made a scarf while feeling sad, whoever wore the scarf would then feel sad for however long they wore the scarf

This made your brand unique and gave you an edge that stood out from the other companies

You started out on market stalls but eventually you gained investors and expanded into a company that even had hell’s celebrity’s wearing your clothes

Stolas had commissioned you to make Octavia’s debut dress, veroskia had asked you to create her entire wardrobe for her tour around the hells rings and even the Lilith was photographed wearing one of your dresses

You had officially built your fashion empire that you’d always dreamed about and you even owned your own tower

This unfortunately meant that you couldn’t keep up with demand and handcraft each clothing item and would have to expand the workforce and hire skilful factory workers

This meant that your ability to put your emotions into the clothing wouldn’t work, so you made a limited edition line out every year with one new clothing item coming out every month

Each outfit would have a theme that connected with the emotions, so you’d do a rouge rage or a cerulean calm

You’d sell these to the highest bidder and would quickly become your top earning products with brawls happening at the bidding wars

But your company being successful only made your bad personality traits worse as you became more demanding and perfectionist to your staff in a way that made you a bad person but in a devil wears prada way that had the newer generations of demons calling you an icon

You had an attitude very similar to velvettes, only with the skills and the maturity to carry it

Velvette hated watching you grow your empire so much that it almost rivalled hers in popularity and income

She hated that you’d practically done it all by yourself while she had relied on Vox financially and he only did that because of his interest In her abilities with social media

She hated that she actually liked your clothing and she hated that your ability made you stand out

But she hated most of all that you two had come to hell within months of each other, yet you were a respected ceo and overlord while she was seen as a joke by overlords and parts of the fashion community

She also hated how insanely pretty you were, but she didn’t come to terms with that until later

She would try and do anything to discredit you and make it so your popularity would go down when you were neck and neck

She tried ‘exposing’ you on social media for having poor working conditions and being rude to workers but she forgot this is hell and literally no one cares

She tried slandering you and your clothing brand on social media, but she forgot your modern and you know how to use social media to your advantage too

You kinda turned into a meme similar to the Wendy’s twitter memes whenever you clapped back at velvette

She tried to pull your investors by threatening them with voxtech legal action, but you’d become self sustaining and could handle the loss with having hells celebrities commissioning your personal pieces

She tried to make you look foolish in front of the other overlords, but they all respected you much more than they respected her

She even tried to copy one of your designs but you called her out and she had to do one of those influencer apology videos but it mostly just consisted of her badmouthing you and justifying her actions

Her hatred bored on obsession with how regularly she stalked your profiles and life

After around ten years of this rivalry, you grew bored with it and you were running out of ideas

So you contacted the Vs and sat down in a meeting with them where you suggested a collaboration of the fashion designers on your terms

Velvette wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but Vox insist that it would be extremely profitable and practically forcing velvette to accept

So you started a collaboration

You and velvette butted heads a lot or some stylistic choices

It was so bad that eventually you couldn’t be in a room together for a few weeks

This collaboration took months, and during this time velvette got to hate you up close as she got to know every annoying detail about you

Except that hatred changed to something different over the months she worked with you, you intrigued her in a way that no one else has ever before

It all came to a stop one night when you two had gone out to a club together for social media promo for the upcoming collab

You shared drinks and complaints about one another and one thing led to another and you two had a drunken make out session in the back of the limo

But velvette hauled ass as soon as she realised she was swapping spit with her arch nemesis

She laid in bed and thought about her actions

Could all of those years of feeling hatred and jealousy towards you just been her suppressed attraction to you?

Could all those tense moments she assumed was awkward tension actually been sexual tension?

The thought made velvette want to scream into a pillow

She pushed her feelings down and decided to just avoid you until the collab was over

She thought it would be easier to hate you rather than face her obvious attraction to you

You tried talking with her many times during the collab but she just ignored you, and this hurt you deeply

So you complied with her wishes and after the collab ended you went back to living your lives without each other

But velvette found herself missing you and being around you

Staff especially noticed that she was much harsher to them then before

She felt herself wanting to reach out to you to beg you to either kiss her or reject her because surely rejection would be easier to deal with than this

But it all changed when rumours started circulating

Velvette had been innocently scrolling through social media until she came across a drama channel that claimed to have spotted you in a romantic moment with none other than veroskia mayday

Velvette found herself consumed with absolute disgust and jealousy

She stalked yours and veroskia’s profile and begged Vox to use his hypnosis to send trolls to verkoskia’s profile

The rumours were cleared up after you made a response that claimed that you and veroskia were only friends, but velvette still felt consumed with rage

She did something completely out of character

She went to you at your place of work and cornered you in your office before confessing every little feeling she’d ever had for you

She practically begged you to be with her, but you just sighed and explained that she had hurt you with her actions and that you couldn’t see yourself in a relationship with her

“It would hurt the brands” is what you also said, and that cut velvette deeper than any knife

She had felt pathetic, and she’d never feel pathetic in any relationship

Even before she had gotten to know you, your instant rise to success left her feeling small

You held power over her, and maybe that’s why she was so obsessed and attracted to you

She’d felt surrounded by people who were less than her all her life, and falling for you felt like finally finding an equal

And she wasn’t going to let you go that easily

She’d destroy you and your company if it meant that you’d love and rely on her

Hope you guys enjoyed and let me know if you want me to make this another series

Tag list:

None yet, let me know if you wanna be tagged in future works like this for this if it becomes a series :)

#hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vees #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #yandere velvette x reader #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #yandere x reader #yandere

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01zfan · 2 months

Text

don’t waste it pt. 2 | l. sh

idol!sohee x idol!reader | 8.6k words

continuation from part one here! hope u guys enjoy hehe.

contains: semi public, love confessions, oral (f. receiving), pda, making out

“sohee…fuck…you gotta leave.”

you and sohee both knew it was time to go. if you had half a mind you would’ve looked above the door frame to see the time. every minute that ticked by was a minute closer to when sohee was supposed to be onstage. he had an award to present in fifteen minutes and you had to be in your seat in ten. you imagined your members looking around the seating area for you, too shy to ask staff if they’ve seen you around. they were good idols but they were unbelievably meek like most girls your age were. they didn’t have to be bold—that was your job as the leader. you had responsibilities but instead you were leaning against a table while your friend ate you out.

using the word friend seemed to extremely undermine what sohee was to you. the lack of contact over the years of training and promoting made the title friend seem presumptuous. but the complexity and shared history was too much to describe him as a stranger. to call sohee anything with benefit attached was also a stretch, because it didn’t seem to benefit anyone to have you two ran around like classless z-listers while your managers searched high and low for you.

“you’re gonna be late.” you whispered.

sohee couldn’t be bothered, busy laving his tongue with you like he had all the time in the world. it’s not like he could’ve moved if he wanted to, your heels digging in his back kept him in place. he only hummed and lifted your ass, making you fully sit on the table to give him more access to blow cold air on your core. you shivered from the sensation, fighting everything in you not grab his hair. you had to respect the meticulously placed pins that kept his locks in place. if you messed it up he wouldn’t have enough time to fix it. you refused to have sohee looking like a fool on national television.

sohee’s hands on the top of your thighs had to apply force to separate them so he could raise his head. sohee looked up at you from your heat, the bottom of his face glossy.

“let me go and i’ll go.” sohee said simply.

sohee’s personality had changed from the last time you saw him. he was more confident in himself, nothing like the shy boy you had trained with. you don’t know what made him this way, maybe being in a successful boy group and constantly being praised for his vocal ability had that effect on him.

you’re sure you had your own personality change, something that came with being the leader and unofficial face of the group. you were the first one announced, your long awaited debut and depart from a renowned company to a smaller one became the talk of the town. you had articles and blog posts dropping about you daily, ranging from praise for not giving up on your dreams to skeptics debating your skills.

being virtually a nobody to a trending topic wasn’t the only turn your life had taken. you went from seeing everyone as competition to being responsible of six girls and occasionally writing songs for them. you were lucky it paid off well, a song you had written about wasting something precious did exceptionally well. it was an overnight success, becoming popular domestically and abroad. many people related it to someone in their life that they loved—but that was neither here nor there. when asked about it on variety shows you were able to relate the song to giving up fried foods.

it was that song that led you here in the first place. because of one single your group was a top contender for multiple awards that night. you remember feeling joy for your group, your girls were finally going to get the recognition they deserved. the joy and butterflies you felt died and rested like a stone in your stomach when you saw that sohee was the hosts for the show. the corpses of the butterflies turned to maggots the closer the award show got and you thought your anxiety would eat you alive. your recent confidence boost from being received well by the public abandoned you when you thought about seeing sohee again.

at the red carpet you saw sohee for the first time in years. you had to seem unbothered, having to stand next to him while he announced your group. you had to introduce yourself and bow to sohee like you didn’t know him and had to pretend like you had forgotten you were trainees together. he shook your hand and bowed to you on camera, congratulating you on making your debut and your success. it felt so odd hearing sohee talk to you as a senior, or him talking to you at all. you never considered you would ever be in the position of having to meet your old love affair again, much less on live television as it was broadcasted to anyone who would watch.

after your group exited from the red carpet you had to blow off steam. you let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding as knots formed in your stomach. you used the excuse of having to go to the bathroom as you split from the group. before you could hear confirmation you started walking the opposite way from your group and manager.

you felt dizzy roaming the halls like a ghost, weaving through the maze of dressing rooms bowing to everyone you passed by. you had to put on a smile each time you passed by someone trying hard to pretend like you weren’t on the verge of passing out. when you finally found an empty room you ran into it, ignoring the sign that read it was for hosts only.

the sterile white of the room made you feel like you were in a hospital, making you freak out even more. you were lucky to have a moment alone, a second to breathe away from everyone. the last thing you needed was for your group to see their fearless leader fighting off a panic attack by taking heavy breaths. you looked towards the wall as you tried to bring yourself back to earth. you couldn’t be bothered to look at the rest of the room to see if it was truly open. you were just hoping whoever was supposed to be in the room was away doing their job. you could see how hectic it was earlier. trash from food containers and used makeup wipes littered the tables and some made even made it to the floor.

as you scanned the chaos in the room you saw sohee was relaxed, feet propped up on the end of the couch as he looked at his phone.

you stood there in silence until he noticed you, shooting up from his seat so fast his clips almost fell from his hair.

”what are you doing here?” sohee asked.

he stood up from his seat on the couch to come to you. how lucky were you to be in this situation—nearing a panic attack while the reason for said panic attack looked right at you. when you were silent sohee gently grabbed you by the arm and pulled you fully into the dressing room, closing the door behind you.

“is everything alright?” sohee asked.

sohee knew you had to be half out of your mind to come and see him in a place where you could easily be found. but when you had that far off look in your eye and didn’t say a word his mood shifted. instead of demanding an answer he reached towards you timidly. you felt like a trapped animal while sohee reached to you, the instinct to leap away from him creeped up your back. but you stood there with wide eyes as you let his warm hands clasp around your cold fingers. his steadiness made the tremor go down, and the overall trembling in your chest began to slowly subside.

sohee guided you down on the armrest of the couch while you did everything in your power to steady your heart rate and breathing. sohee tried but failed to be of any help. he rubbed your cold arms and hands. it was still timid, like sohee was waiting for you to tell him to get away. it only made everything worse, having him so close to you. you saw your reflection in his eyes wide eyes, and your shared history showed like a movie in his blown out pupils. when he squatted next to you and put a hesitant hand on your thigh you don’t know why you reached for it so quickly.

sohee’s hands were rougher than before, but they still held yours the same. he mirrored the grip of your hand without a second thought, rubbing your back with the other. you did your breathing exercises, trying not to look too hard at sohee as he told you everything was going to be okay.

when you finally calmed down it was like the veil was lifted. you suddenly realized where you were, who you were, and what you were doing. you stood up from the couch so quickly that your vision spotted, ripping yourself from sohee’s hands. you composed yourself quickly, going into the mirror to fix strands of hair that were out of place. sohee kept a careful eye on you, still squatting next to the couch as you fixed your appearance. in the mirrors reflection you looked at sohee.

“you shouldn’t sit like that. you’ll wrinkle your pants.” you said to the mirror.

sohee stood up from his position and walked over to you. the pensive look in his eyes had subsided, replaced with annoyance as he walked over to you. sohee didn’t stop until he stood directly behind you, putting arms on either side of you to cage you between him and the table’s edge. sohee kept eye contact with you in the mirror as he stood behind you.

“are you alright?” he asked.

sohee slowly brought his chin down to rest on your shoulder as he asked his question. you imagined the trouble you’d be in if someone came in. you imagined your manager doing a headcount and realizing you were unaccounted for. sohee turned his gaze from the mirror to look at you. you continued to look in the mirror, but you could feel sohee’s eyes scan the parts of your face he could see. your manager was going to be so mad at you.

“you should go find your manager.” you said.

“being the leader has made you bossy.” sohee said.

he said the words into your hair, before making eye contact with your reflection in the mirror. you turned around to face him. his eyes remained calm, a playful glint that almost made you idignant.

“and being one of the youngest has made you careless.” you retort.

you don’t push back against sohee, staying in the place between him and the table. your eyes are wide from bewilderment nonetheless, amazed that sohee is trying to make a move on you in such a place. but he’s warm against your body, and his lips are so close to the places you’ve missed him the most. you try to think about all the consequences when sohee gets so close you can smell him.

“do you know what will happen if we get caught?” you ask.

sohee leans his body towards yours to push you against the table even more. his eyes fixate on your collarbone, then at all the spots your dress has left exposed. you let him eat you alive while you stand there trying to be reasonable.

“your dress is really pretty by the way.” sohee says.

he places a gentle kiss on your collarbone before moving to your neck. you both know he’s still hesitant, but when you react by putting his hand on the small of his back and pulling him closer he places another kiss. this kiss is wet and confident and your hand grips the fabric of his white button up. you can feel sohee smile as he presses a kiss to your neck.

you weren’t the same meek trainee that barely passed monthly evaluations anymore. you were the leader of the group that occupied the top of several charts because of songs you wrote. you were confident and had an aura that lured in the general public and a personality that was praised by fans. the persona your team carefully crafted came to you like second nature, so much to the point that it had become a part of who you were. but when you stood in front of sohee, when you felt his teeth press into your skin, you felt like you were the same vulnerable girl you were all those years ago. it was almost as scary as it was comforting, being able to be yourself when all you seemed to do these days was put on a show. but when sohee’s mouth tried to reach for yours you put a single finger on his lips to hold him back.

“you’re insane if you think i’m letting you ruin my makeup.” you said.

you had to hide your disappointment of not being able to kiss sohee by rolling your eyes. you don’t know how someone could be so careless, but at the same time you wanted nothing more than to make out with sohee like you were teenagers again. you should’ve pushed him off of you a long time ago to make your way to your seat. you should yell at him for putting you in such a position, you had more to lose now than ever. but the way sohee smiled against your finger made you lose all your nerve. his hand on the table moved to your hips and you tensed from feeling him. his fingers were gentle on your hips, but then he pressed so hard it began wrinkling your dress. you quickly smacked sohee’s hand away and he laughed at you.

“i just want to help you.” sohee fake pouts.

your hand goes to his bottom lip that juts out and you hold it in between your fingers. when you press harshly he doesn’t recoil, only continues to look at you as you add more pressure. your other hand goes to sohee’s and he holds it instantly.

“who says i need help?” you ask, still holding his lip.

you find it ridiculous to try to hide your emotions from sohee. even if you two weren’t always involved romantically, you trained together in close quarters. you danced together and ate together, went on trips and practice together. you two spent innocent unsupervised time together in between the kisses and the sneaking around. sohee knew what made you anxious and what your order was at the local fast food chain by heart—of course he knew you needed help.

“i know you, even if i haven’t seen you in so long.” sohee says.

words to combat his assumption fall flat. you don’t see a point in pretending anymore. you let go of his bottom lip and let your hand go to his cheek. if you get caught doing whatever sohee has in mind for you, you tell yourself it won’t be that big of a deal. you two were in the fifth generation of many groups before you, there’s no way it would be the first time someone was caught fooling around in a dressing room. you and sohee had also never been caught all the times before, and sohee had a look in his eyes that made you give in. so you detached your hand from sohees’ and started bunching your dress up delicately to not wrinkle the fabric too bad. his eyes started widening as he looked down at your newly exposed thighs.

“you have to be quick.” you said.

you thought you made yourself clear when you told sohee he had to be quick. when you first became the leader of your group the ability to tell people what to do felt awkward. commands came out quiet and like a suggestion more than an order. but the girls in your group respect you for some reason so they would listen after you told them once. your members spoiled you in that aspect; you had completely forgotten that rebels like sohee existed. which is why you were here now, gripping his shoulder to push him more into your heat. you were sure your manager was about to put a missing person’s out on you and sohee’s manager was going to kick in the door soon.

sohee had you on top of the table now, your back pressed against the glass of the mirror and your legs rested over his shoulders. you pressed your body against the cold glass while you haphazardly tried to grab something to steady yourself. you could feel the makeup brushes and wrappers that were on the table press against your skin. your dress had fallen from your hands at some point and the bottom of it partially covered sohee’s face as he continued make out with your folds. although he had energy like a bunny, he couldn’t stop his jaw from getting exhausted due to the exertion. it had been awhile since he’s done this too, his mouth was out of practice. sohee was just lucky that the innate part of him that knew how to please you was still there. sohee pulled away from you to see the death grip you had on the edgetable while your chest heaved. sohee started using his pointer finger and thumb to lightly pinch your clit, the same way you pinched his lip.

your eyes that were focusing on a ceiling light dropped down to see why sohee had stopped eating you out. you locked eyes with him, seeing how wide his eyes had gotten while he started to rub circles on your clit. he wasted no time putting two of his fingers inside of you too, going at a pace so fast it made everything on the table shake.

“just cum for me. so i don’t miss giving you your award.” sohee said.

his mouth went to your thigh, pressing his teeth against your supple skin while he sucked. you couldn’t stop your hand that went to his hair, grabbing the strands on top while you swiveled your hips against his fingers. he pulled out a finger to really feel you seize around his digit. you had to bite your lip to muffle the sound of your whines and sohee’s name falling from your lips. you knew your teeth would be stained and your lip combo was ruined, but that was better than having your cries be heard. sohee watched you with a slightly open mouth, mouthing the words caught in your throat. he continued to finger you through your orgasm, his finger coming out of you wet and glossy.

you still sat on the edge of the table as you caught your breath. your senses came back to you slowly. the feeling of your sweaty body in the tight dress made you uncomfortable, and you could feel your ruined underwear be moved back into place by sohee. he still was kneeled between your legs when he put your panties back on you, sucking on the same finger that was inside of you. you put on your best disgusted face while using two fingers to push on his forehead. sohee got the hint and moved from between your legs.

you got down from the table refusing his hand, doing your best to smooth out any wrinkles in your dress. sohee’s attempts at making himself look presentable failed. the hair on the crown of his head awkwardly sat up, some makeup on the bottom of his face was gone and his cheeks were flushed and rosy. you hoped that he would be able to get quick corrections from a stylist before making it onstage. you also suddenly hoped that you could talk to sohee about what had just happened, but you didn’t have time to worry about him. you had to be in a chair in two minutes. so while sohee was preoccupied fixing his hair clips and dusting off pants you were already out the door of the dressing room, picking up the end of your dress so you could jog to where you were supposed to be.

you were lucky you had found your manager just in time. by the look on her face you could tell she wanted to grab you by the ear and tell you off, but she didn’t have the time. instead she hurried you to your seat beside your members. you were apologizing profusely for being late when the show began again, suddenly silenced by the uproar of applause. you didn’t have a moment to adjust before going into professional mode, crossing your legs and clapping just like the cue sheets said.

it was hard to focus on the award show when your mind kept going back to where you were not even twenty minutes earlier. you could still feel the wet imprint of sohee’s lips on your thigh and you had to adjust yourself in your seat when you remembered sohee’s tongue deep inside of you. you kept going back to the sight of sohee’s head underneath your pushed up dress and the way you clutched the fabric helplessly in your hands. the quick flash of your group on the big screen and the venue erupting in cheers couldn’t even pull you from your trance. you saw sohee come onstage with another idol you debuted close in time to. at some point you had to actually start taking the time to learn the names of your colleagues.

you could hear a group of fans behind you make a collective cooing sound. you looked to the screen to see sohee smiling innocently at the camera. you could see some of his hair sticking up at the crown of his head. the sight broke you from your reverie and a small smile came across your face. you had to hide the smile quickly, lowering your head and masking it with a cough. when you looked down you could still make out small wrinkles from your dress where you were holding it with a death grip. both of you could your wrinkled garments and sohee could fix his untucked shirt but he couldn’t fix his hair that you messed up in the heat of the moment. you were wondering if there was still the taste of you on his tongue when you saw your group stand up and more cheering filled the room.

you looked up from your lap to see one of your members shoot you a quick look of confusion. your hesitation caused your group to hesitate too. they almost sat back down seeing you still seated, blindly following your lead like acolytes.your eyes quickly scanned the area around you as you stood up to join them. you were so busy that you missed your group had been announced to win record of the year. you wanted to yell at yourself for being so out of it. with all eyes on you all it took was one mistake for the public opinion to completely shift on you. you prayed you were able to play it off well with a shocked face and stiff body before finally standing up.

as your group headed for the main stage you saw yourself getting closer and closer to sohee. you were leading the pack, if you didn’t stop now you would inevitably have to take the award from him and another interaction between you and him would be broadcasted for the world to see. not talking to him almost made you have a panic attack after the red carpet, but after what happened in the dressing room if you got too close to sohee you might pass out. so you suddenly stopped at the very end, letting your confused members fill in the gap between you and the presenters. the youngest of your group ended up having to awkwardly take the award from sohee, something you’re sure you would get an earful of later. but it didn’t matter because you were able to compose yourself enough to do the groups introduction and seamlessly go through your heavily scripted acceptance speech.

when your group was done with the speech you felt the knots forming in your stomach again. you clear your throat and move your hand forward to let your members pass in front of you. they all go first and you could trail behind them, trying to make it seem like it was a calculated plan for you to stop so suddenly. you were clumsy bowing to every group you passed by, adrenaline from being onstage almost making you tip over your heels. you were incredibly grateful to make it back to your seats, waiting for the next part of the show to start.

“is everything okay?” your youngest member asked you.

her eyes were wide with worry as her gaze drifted to your clenched fists at your sides. you noticed then you were failing at your job as a nonchalant leader. two of your members were sharing a blanket to cover their over exposed legs and two others had resorted to using pillows. your body felt like it was on fire with embarrassment as you scanned the area around you for spare covering or a manager.

“let me get you guys some blankets.” you said standing up from your seat.

you saw a stacked pile of blankets neatly folded at a table in front of you. in any other case you would’ve asked a manager, but no one was around to help you. you prepared your soft and gentle voice to kindly ask whatever boy group was sitting at the table if they could spare the blankets for your girls.

just as you were approaching the table, sohee was doing the same. he kept his eyes locked on you, wondering what you were doing walking down the steps towards his group. his members saw him first, clapping their hands and giving him a thumbs up for presenting well. when they saw that sohee was looking past them, they all turned around to see what he was staring at.

before you could tap the shoulder of one of the men, suddenly six pairs of eyes were staring at you. yours went wide as an effect, suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of attenton. you felt like you should’ve known sohee’s members from the back of their heads to prepare yourself for the situation. you had even trained with some of them, spent the same amount of time with them as you did with sohee.

you believed you could’ve survived the moment before you saw the seventh pair of eyes looking at you. if you had come to your senses a minute earlier you could’ve asked for the blankets before sohee got back from presenting his award. but now where you were, standing next to the table while sohee stood on the other side, staring at him for a little bit too long. you imagined his members were staring at you too, wondering why you came to their table during a break in the show.

“sorry to bother you guys,” you politely pointed towards the folded blankets in the center of their table while still looking at sohee. “can i take these? for my group.” you said.

almost instantly they nodded, all of them reaching for the middle of their table. sohee was just a second faster than the rest of them like he already knew what you needed. with the stack of blankets in his hand he walked over to you casually. you did your best to ignore the way his members were looking at him approach you. their heads followed sohee’s every step, until he set the blankets in your outstretched hands.

“here you go.” sohee said.

sohee was lucky that his body blocked the view of his hand sliding between two blankets from his members. he was also lucky that your face showed shock only for a second before bowing and leaving.

you said a thank you before turning tail and heading back up the stairs to your members. you handed out the blankets with a smile on your face, hesitating between the second and third blanket to grab a neatly folded piece of paper in your hand. your members didn’t notice, too happy that their attentive leader got them what they needed.

you slid your note underneath your leg, keeping the folded piece of paper crushed between you and your seat. you were staring daggers to the back of sohee’s head the rest of the award show, trying to figure out why he would do something so risky. you wonder what the paper says. does he think you have the power to sneak away from your dorm and fuck him in a practice room like old times? you shake your head and try to enjoy the rest of the show. your group went on to win two more awards that night. one of your members cried and you wiped her tears while holding back ones of your own. you gave a heartfelt speech about how grateful you were for the people surrounding you. the crowd gave you a standing ovation and you shook your head, bowing deeply before leaving the stage.

when the awards are over your manager led your group to your dressing room. if she was frustrated with you for being absent it doesn’t show, she’s all smiles and giggles as she takes pictures of your group holding the trophies.

cameras are in your face when you get into the dressing room, filming behind the scenes content. some of your members cry and others take the time to sincerely thank fans for getting them this award. you stand in the corner of the room away from the prying cameras, opening the piece of paper that was held in your sweating hands.

i’ll be at our spot in the park.

you looked around quickly before tearing the piece of paper and throwing away the paper. you hid it underneath layers of garbage and smiled when the camera came to you. you had a little bit of a bigger smile when you thanked your fans and members for the awards, talking to the camera in your face with gratitude.

on the way back to the dorms your group was beaming with excitement from the award. you all ran your fingers over the engravings a thousand times, not believing it’s real. you and your girls talked about how much fun you were going to have in the future, and how this was only the beginning.

when your team’s car parked in the empty lot your manager gave your team a talk. she made sure to stress how much attention was going to be on your group now. your manager told your team how important it was to not be reckless, how curfew at the dorms would be enforced even harder. you looked to your members for their reactions—they all nodded understanding the stakes. you nodded too, acting like you weren’t going to be sneaking off as soon as you were left alone.

your manager also emphasized how important it was to strike while the iron was hot. your team was excited to hear that preparation for your comeback was starting tomorrow, a mere week after your promotions wrapped up. your team was happy but you had a sinking feeling in your stomach at the thought of trying to make a song that was even remotely as popular as your previous one. you knew you were the only one thinking such negative things in the car. maybe that’s why you were the leader, because of your habit of looking to the future. you still felt the prickle of excitement in the back of your mind. you were lucky to be at a place in your life where comebacks were consistent and you were a part of an award winning group. you were also seeing the love of your life tonight. there was no reason to be sad. so you nodded to everything your manager said, taking the time to thank her and your security guard for being with you guys since the beginning. your team followed your lead, thank you’s filling the company car.

you trailed behind your team as they were getting out of the car. before you could leave and be one step closer to seeing sohee your manager put a hand on your arm to stop you.

“stay behind for a moment,” your manager looked at your group. “she’ll meet you guys inside.” your manager said.

your second oldest member closed the door and they followed her lead to the door.

you settled in the seat, nervous for what your manager might say to you. your manager looked to your security guard in the front seat before looking back to you. she puts a hand on your knee and your hand on top of it squeezing.

“congratulations. they wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.” your manager says.

you nod your head, trying to figure out where this conversation was going.

“but,” she sighs. “you’re distracted.”

you visibly tense underneath your manager’s hand. she pulls away and reaches to the cup holder to grab her phone. it is awkward and too quiet as your manager unlocks her phone, showing you some webpage.

it takes a while for you to read the title and to recognize that it’s a blogpost. nonetheless it’s about you, looking dazed during the whole award show. low quality photos show you distracted as your members uncomfortably shift in their seats from lack of coverage, you getting up from your seat late after your win is announced, and a picture of you looking at sohee’s table. your face heats up and you put your head in your hands shamefully. you think about high definition fansite photos that could be circulated, showing you distracted in the highest quality possible.

“what are they saying?” you groan.

“run of the mill stuff. the fans are downvoting hate.” your manager said

you let out another groan and your manager’s hand returns to your knee. she shakes it to bring your head out of your hands. you look at her and she’s sympathetic. you hope she feels for your situation, being so young while having so much attention on you.

“don’t think too much about it. i just want you to be aware.” your manager says.

you rub your eyes before putting your hands back down. you nod your head and your manager gives you a small smile. you smile back, trying to show her that you are very grateful for her. she has been with your group since the beginning, the one that advocated for you to become the leader of your group. she was your fan before you knew you were worthy of praise.

“try to relax tonight, alright? you deserve it.” your manager says.

she opens the automatic door for you and you climb out, waving them off as they leave your driveway. once the car is gone you make your way to the entrance of the dorm.

when you round the corner of your building you see your group, hiding to not be seen by your manager. they surprise you, causing you to jump back a little and grab your chest. they apologize and ask you what your manager said. you lie to them of course, they don’t have phones to see the blogposts. you just tell your group that your manager wanted to thank you for leading the group, which wasn’t completely false. your group agreed with your manager’s words, thanking you endlessly for being their fearless leader.

you didn’t feel like their leader when the lights finally turned off and everyone finally went to bed. your group was awake long after they should’ve been, taking pictures with your trophy on a shitty digital camera and talking about the future. you had to force them to go to bed, telling everyone they would regret it in the morning. you put your members to bed like you were their mother, patting their heads and telling them how happy you were to be in a group with them. when they were asleep you abandoned all sense of responsibility, getting ready in the dark to make the trek to see your old flame.

you were extremely lucky it was cold outside. it gave you a reason to bundle up in layer after layer, covering all proof of who you were. a long black coat hid your body and baggy pants and an oversized sweater hid your frame. a scarf his your neck and a hat helped you hide your eyes. by the time you put on your face mask you looked completely undetectable, just another person walking around the park to see someone you probably shouldn’t be seeing. your body was hot from the layers and the shame as you tip toed through your dorm, sneaking past your sleeping members to walk to the door. you had a moment where you believed you might’ve been caught, seeing one of the more restless girls move around underneath the sheets. but she settled back in and started snoring, and you thanked the gods for keeping her asleep.

once you made it outside you started thinking of excuses. in the off chance you were caught, you would be able to lie and say you needed to go on a quick walk to clear your head. it’s the least you deserved, after the stressful promotion period you had as a leader. you were lucky that the park sohee was talking about was so close to your building, just ten minutes if you walked briskly. the cold kept you moving a little faster, you knew you’d be there in no time. you thought about when you first moved into your dorm and you would jog past the place you were nervously walking to now. you would pass by the stone stairs that led to the gazebo and look up, memories of being there rushing through your mind. if you ran by it fast enough, you could see you and sohee there, kissing while you two watched the sunset.

you wondered sometimes if you’d ever have that life again. being a trainee was hell, but you were technically still free then. you could’ve walked out at anytime and lived a normal life. if someone saw you kissing a boy they would just keep walking by. but now, as you got closer and closer to the spot you thought about your life now. if you left the company and terminated your contract you wondered if you would still be a celebrity. would you still have to worry about the lack of privacy or the chance that someone could be lurking in the shadows, snapping pictures of you living life. you imagined blogposts of blurry photos taken at night of you and sohee. it would be a trending topic, and you could potentially put your members and your livelihood at risk. the fear made you slow down, almost paralyzed you. the soles of your shoes felt like they were glued to the paved path you walked on and it felt like the breeze was trying to push you back home. it wasn’t too late to turn around, sohee would be hurt but he would be okay. it was better being embroiled in a dating scandal.

you got ready to turn on your heels when you heard his voice. it was quiet and unsure, like there would be other people walking around the park this late at night.

“is that you?” sohee called.

you still debated on walking away. but when he called your name again, a little more desperate than the first time you looked up at him.

sohee’s fashion mirrored yours, clad in black with a hat and mask to hide all of him. you wonder how he got here. his apartment was further away, atleast over the bridge. did he have a phone now to call a taxi? did he walk here like you did? did he ask a manager to drive him here? you tried thinking about everything except for the risky situation you were in as sohee got closer and closer to you. eveything was telling you to run, follow the streetlights until you got back to your dorm. sohee’s steps were slow, each one loud as his foot made contact with the gravel path. he approached you like a wild animal, scared you would jump and run away.

when sohee was directly in front of you he lowered his mask. you gasped and looked around, reaching for the mask to bring it back up on his face. his hand went to your wrist, rubbing the little amount of skin you had exposed.

“no one is around. i checked already.” sohee said.

you let sohee’s hand move from your wrist further up, until his hand wraps around your bicep inside your jacket. his touch is warmer than the million layers you wear. you’re so caught up in how he massages your skin you let him bring you closer and closer, until your chests touch. sohee wraps his arm around you and you can’t stop yourself from relaxing against his chest. he rubs your back gently, and you feel like you are being taken care of since you became the leader of your group. the tenderness almost brings you to tears, somehow this is harder to do than fool around in an empty dressing room.

“congratulations. on your award.” sohee says.

you scoff and go further into sohee. his hand has reached further up into your jacket, resting on your bare shoulder.

“i’m not an idol right now.” you say.

you try to sound mad but you’re so quiet your voice is almost drowned out by the buzzing street lamps and the chirping cicadas. sohee hears you perfectly, tucking your head underneath his chin and nodding.

“i understand.” sohee says.

you two stay like that for awhile, hugging underneath the lights on a gravel path. you are passed by a couple and a runner who couldn’t care less. it’s comforting to see people uninterested in what you have to do. it’s almost like you are a trainee with sohee again, doing what you two please.

anytime a breeze comes by you go further into sohee’s chest, taking in a fresh whiff of him. he smells the same as he did when you were trainees, the fresh detergent mixing with something else. it was nothing you could ever pinpoint, and sohee withheld the fragrance he wore like his life depended on it. whatever it was—whether it was just him or a perfume—he was intoxicating nonetheless.

when another person passes by sohee pushes you away gently by your shoulders. he goes to your hand, gripping it so tight it’s almost painful.

“do you remember when we first came here?” sohee asked.

you only nodded your head. you couldn’t stop remembering even if you wanted to. each step you took to the spot you were reminded of walking down the paths in the summertime with sohee by your side, taking both of your hands into his. you looked up from underneath the brim of your hat to look at him. sohee’s hands were rocking yours back and forth as he rocked on his heels. you could feel that sohee’s nervousness manifested in a different way than yours.

you continue to look at eachother in silence, listening to the cicadas and the occasional sound of someone making their way down the gravel path. each time you hear the grinding sound of a shoe making contact with the rocks you snap your head in that direction. when you turn your head again, sohee lets go of your hands to rest on your face.

“it’s just me and you.” sohee says.

it’s not a command, he says it light and in a comforting way. he does it to try and quell your nervousness, so you nod to make him feel better. you still feel the creeping feeling behind you, like someone is hiding in the tree line next to the gazebo. you try to focus on sohee’s warm hands and your hands that rest on his waist. you focus on his lips, and think about if they still taste like you.

“do you want to talk about what happened earlier today?” sohee asked.

you nod again.

“i know it was irresponsible. and i’m sorry.” sohee says.

you shake your head and grip sohee’s hands tighter.

“it was both of us.” you start moving sohee’s hands back and forth as the rest of your thought rests on the tip of your tongue. “we just have to be more careful in the future.” you say.

sohee tilts his head as he listens to what you say.

“future?” sohee asks.

his words lift at the end in confusion when you nod your head.

“you’re my comfort and i don’t want to lose you.” you blink slowly, trying to will away the tears. “i’m willing to make it work if you want to, too.” you say.

sohee slowly lets go of your hand and puts his hands on your shoulders. you let him lightly apply force, pushing you back until you lean against the wall. you stay there completely still, scared that if you move you’ll have to say goodbye. you both find your own way to avoid the inevitable. sohee messes with the sleeve of your jacket while you try and grab his hand. you both take the time to look into eachothers eyes, trying to find the answer there. sohee looks comforting underneath the streetlight as he comes closer to your face. it reminded you of the times when you were free to act the way all people your age did. you remember being in this exact same position with sohee, waiting for him to kiss you after a long day of shameless flirting. in any other instance you would’ve been heartbroken at the thought of this being your last time together. but he looked like your future underneath the flickering lights and the way he held your hand made you believe he was here to stay.

it takes you by surprise when you start to reveal more of yourself to sohee. it starts you reveal more of yourself to sohee, taking off your hat and fully taking off your mask to stuff it into the pocket of your jacket. sohee smiles even bigger than he was before. you feel so comfortable that you would’ve shed all your layers even in the brisk cold. but you decided to show sohee how comforted you were by bringing him in for a kiss.

you thought that you were pent up but it was nothing compared to the way sohee kissed you back. instantly he responded to your kiss, pushing into your lips. his face went to your hands but then found their way to the hood of your jacket. sohee was in a hurry, his hands trying to find a way to your burning bare skin so he could touch it. while one hand brought you in closer by the hood of your jacket the other hand slipped into your jacket until his hand found the back of your neck. while sohee’s hands guided your lips against his your hands started digging into his hips.

sohee didn’t know whether it was because he was extremely eager or if he got so dizzy from kissing you that he lost his footing. it wasn’t bad, just a step forward into your while you let his tongue graze your teeth. the step caused you to lose your balance but sohee quickly caught you, moving you against the wall to cage you in. you felt even more secured in this spot, your mind running rampant. you thought you didn’t care if someone was watching, as long as you were able to keep kissing sohee. so you let him pin you against the wall while he wedged his legs between yours. you had to practice self control to not put your body weight on his thigh and let him kiss you until you became a mess. you just let his leg stay there and you let your legs clench around his.

he tilted his head and you responded by tilting yours so sohee could take your bottom lip into his mouth. he sucked on the skin harshly, letting his teeth lightly press into your pout. you opened your eyes for a moment to see his closed in bliss. while he sucked on your lip you let yourself catch your breath. your sweaty chest heaved underneath the confines of your clothes, suddenly too hot even in the frigid temperature. your hands found a way underneath sohee’s layers of clothes as you gripped his waist. you were moaning pitifully now, and you let your weight rest on sohee’s thigh wedged between your knee. sohee lowered his head with your body, not breaking contact with your lips for a second.

when sohee detached from your lips he continued to kiss you with vigor. it was the same way he kissed your folds in the empty dressing room while your career was waiting for you in your seat. you wished that doing something wrong didn’t feel so good as sohee moaned into your mouth. you let out whimpers of your own and sharp intakes of air filled the space between you as you desperately tried to catch your breath. sohee’s hand on the back of your neck was only there for comfort as you got back into the groove of kissing him. you took control for a moment, letting a hand come up to grab a handful of his hair. you tugged at the roots only once, and sohee’s hands moved to your cheeks to show you how intense everything felt. his thumbs pressed into the apples of your cheeks as the cicadas and sounds of your lips making contact filled the night air. his hands couldn’t stop roaming, going from your face to finally pulling you in by the small of your back. you leaned back away from the wall from the support and sohee leaned over you to not break contact. each kiss lit something inside of you and felt brand new—you wish you could kiss sohee underneath the buzzing streetlamp forever.

when sohee finally pulls away you can’t bring yourself to let go of him. both of you are dumbstruck, wide-eyed with your mouths agape. your lips are both swollen and glossy from spit as you catch your breaths. you can see sohee’s tongue in his mouth poke out to wet his lips and you only start breathing harder. puffs of white vaporized air fills the night as you huff out uneven breaths. you and sohee end up leaned against the wall side by side. you are looking up to the streetlamp and the moon when sohee reaches over to grab your hand. you look to sohee, vaporized breath dissipating in between the two of you.

“this means you’re my girlfriend again, right?” sohee says in between breaths of air.

you still have a dumbfounded look on your face as you nod looking at him. you didn’t have the words for it now, but you knew sohee would be yours forever. you two would make it through the time apart and hectic schedules as idols. even if it you both went through your own trials and tests of strength you remained steadfast, refusing to waste it any longer.

#01zfan: sohee #seriez: dont waste it #sohee smut #riize smut

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ink-n-shadowfiction · 9 months

Note

Still having bodyguard!Simon thoughts so just HEAR ME OUT-

Rockstar!reader has a song debuting with a popular male artist, so she has to do press with him. Interviews, red carpet appearances, a live performance, etc. It’s driving Simon crazy to see another man with his arm around her waist, holding her close, being face-to-face with her on stage - but he has to remain professional. Simon won’t crack, no matter how bad reader wants him to. Until one day, rockstar!reader is doing a slightly-spicy promo photoshoot with her male artist counterpart for the cover of their new single, and Simon’s self-control finally snaps.

It’s giving sexy, tense, angsty, flirty, juicy, dramatic L O L

Anything but Routine | bodyguard!Simon "Ghost" Riley

I LOVE THE THOUGHTS YOU HAVE so lemme indulge in them more. what if i made it fellow rockstar!keegan o_O

pairing: bodyguard!Simon "Ghost" Riley x rockstar!fem!reader, brief rockstar!keegan x rockstar!fem!reader (link to all works in this au)

genre: mainly angsty but also kinda sexy

word count: 2162 (kinda long but worth it i promise)

warning: mean!ghost, jealous/possessive!ghost, fighting with ghost, unedited (i'm sorry)

It was supposed to be a routine pick-up. Ghost was going to walk in, wait for you to pack up from the meeting you'd just been in with your producer about an upcoming single, and take you back to your apartment. That was supposed to be it.

But as soon as he walked in, seeing you on the leather couch of your producer's office with some burly guy's arm around your shoulders, he knew it was going to be anything but routine.

"Hey Ghost." You chirped as soon as you noticed him walking through the door, crossing your leg over your knee and sinking a bit deeper into the leather couch. "I didn't think you'd here until—"

Ghost's eyes narrowed, lingering on the way the guy looked so comfortable with you against his body. Too comfortable. He couldn't help the way his teeth ground down as his jaw tensed. "You said 2:30, dove. It's 2:30 now, yeah?"

Your eyes flitted down to the watch strapped to your wrist, letting out a grumbled curse and you nodded. "Guess it is, huh?" You giggled as you glanced over at the guy, pushing your hand against his chest as you sat up straight. "Sorry, this is Ghost by the way. He's my—"

The guy met Ghost's steeled gaze, his lips turning upward in an almost challenge smirk as he spoke. "Your infamous bodyguard, huh? Gotta say, the mask looks much more intimidating in person." The guy reached his hand out for a formal handshake. "Keegan, by the way."

Ghost didn't move to shake Keegan's hand, instead offering him the barest nod he could muster before moving his eyes back to you. "We've gotta go. You're on a tight schedule."

"Oh c'mon, Ghost. Not like I haven't been late before." You groaned as you leaned back against the leather couch, sulking a bit under his hard gaze. "You don't even wanna hear the first demo track?"

Oh, this was the artist you were collaborating with. Ghost remembered you rambling on about Keegan, talking about how big of a deal it was that a star of his caliber was wanting to collaborate with a lesser-known artist like you. It was a dream come true for you—but for Ghost, it was his worst fucking nightmare.

Instead of indulging in your offer, Ghost moved wordlessly to scoop your purse up from the floor, holding the straps in a vice grip in his palm as he strode back toward the door. "Now, dove."

Keegan snorted a bit as he watched you get up, an apologetic smile on your face as you went to pick up your phone from the coffee table. "He always this cold? Don't know how you put up with it. If my bodyguard talked to me like that, I'd have 'em on the street before they could finish talking."

"Trust me—this is Ghost being nice." You leaned down to give Keegan a quick hug, arms looping around his neck and one of his falling around your waist. "Thanks for handling the mixing and stuff—let me know when you get the demo done?" The hair on the back of your neck prickled, knowing that Ghost was probably staring daggers at you.

"Course, babe. Shouldn't take me and my team that long, so keep your phone on you, yeah?" Keegan pulled away and gave your waist a gentle pat, gesturing to the door. "Better go before he drags you outta here."

You smiled apologetically once more, giving Keegan one last nod before you turned towards the door. The scowl on your face was heavy, eyes flitting angrily to meet Ghost's as you brushed past him and out of the door he was holding open for you.

You were storming halfway down the hallway when Ghost caught up with you easily. "What's got you steamin', dove? The fuck did I do?"

Spinning around on the heel of your sneaker, you turned to face Ghost, hands pushing against his chest rather weakly as you let out an annoyed scoff. "Are you kidding me, Ghost? You just completely embarrassed me in there—in front of Keegan for fuck's sake! You gotta be an asshole to every fucking guy I interact with?"

Ghost took the weak shove and barely moved, lips twitching under the fabric of his mask before he swallowed down the smirk that itched to be on his lips. He liked when you were angry.

"Don't know what you're talkin' about. You seemed pretty cozy with 'em when I got there—surely he won't hold it against you." Ghost's words sounded bitter, like they left a bad taste in his mouth and he was desperate to spit them off of his tongue. "It's not my fault you have an interview in an hour—blame your fuckin' manager for scheduling things when you'd rather be foolin' around with some rockstar."

You stood there, mouth agape and eyes narrowed as your fists balled angrily at your sides. "Is that what this is about? You're fucking jealous of Keegan or something? This is a new low—even for you, Ghost." You rolled your eyes as you continued storming down the hall, giving Ghost no choice but to follow behind you.

There was a tense silence as you made your way to the car waiting outside. You didn't even let Ghost open the back passenger door for you as you normally would, instead opting to throw it open yourself and crawl inside to the seat farthest away. Ghost didn't speak until the car began moving, the privacy partition raised up and leaving you two practically alone.

"It's not jealousy. My job is to protect you, and if that means from some guy ogling you with his arm around you, then so fuckin' be it." Ghost stated matter-of-factly, his voice cold and bitter as he stared out of the window next to him.

You snorted out an angry laugh, shaking your head as you glowered over at him from across the backseat. "Right—'cuz Keegan is so dangerous that I need you to come rescue me. Seriously, Ghost. Just fuck off 'till you figure your shit out, alright?"

The topic didn't come up between you two again for a week or two—but it was still palpable. You two hardly spoke to one another, hardly wanted to breathe the same air as the other. But he was your bodyguard, and you were his charge. You had to be around one another.

It only came up when Ghost and you were once again in the backseat of your car, heading to a photoshoot to shoot the cover of your upcoming single with Keegan. You were still sitting on opposite ends of the backseat, your elbow perched on the door's armrest and your chin digging into the palm of your hand.

"He's gonna be there." You said coldly, flicking your gaze over to Ghost sitting silently beside you. "So don't embarrass me again."

He didn't breathe a word, just giving you a bitter scoff before nodding curtly.

Ghost didn't even look at you until you made it to the photoshoot location, watching from the shadows behind the camera as you came out from the dressing room with Keegan. You two were laughing about something together, and Ghost immediately clocked the hand you rested on Keegan's forearm as you walked.

You were dressed in a flowing white gown, hair done up and pinned in ringlet curls around your face. Your usual dark sultry makeup was replaced by something softer, the apples of your cheeks a rosy pink and your usual red lipstick replaced by a peachy gloss. You looked ethereal, and Ghost couldn't help the way his eyes ravished your look.

Keegan was the opposite, dressed in an all-black three piece suit with cold silver jewelry and chains adorning his skin. His dark brown hair was slick with pomade and pushed up away from his icy eyes, the usual stud punched through his lip replaced by a sleek silver ring.

"You know how much I hate these photoshoots?" Keegan told you as he let the photographer put him in the position they needed, knees spread and back straight as he sat on an all-black throne.

You laughed softly as you nodded in agreement, following the photographer's instructions and settling yourself on one of Keegan's strong thighs. "You and me both. At least you look cool—I look like a fuckin' church girl right now."

Your eyes flicked up to meet Ghost's in the very back of the room, cheeks tinging even more pink as you noticed the way he was looking at you. It wasn't angry like it had been for a week now—it was hungry, like you were the prey and him the predator. It made knots tie themselves in your gut.

The feeling of Keegan's hand splaying across your stomach brought you back into the moment, letting out a shuddering breath as you shifted yourself into place. "You alright, kid? Spacing off even before the camera starts clicking."

"Sorry—just...got in my own head a bit." It wasn't a complete lie, but Keegan didn't have to know what had pushed you inside of yourself, didn't have to know that the way Ghost was staring at you like a man starved was the reason you were spacing out.

The photoshoot went on smoothly, the photographer snapping a few photos and maneuvering the pose ever so slightly. With each click of the camera, the photographer placed Keegan's hand higher and higher with each shot, the final pose eventually becoming Keegan's tattooed fingers splayed out on my throat.

Keegan was ever the gentleman he was, making sure you were comfortable and okay with the way things were going. All the while, Ghost remained a haunting figure both in the back of the room and the back of your head. No matter where you looked, your eyes always seemed to magnetize back to him.

You didn’t see Ghost again until you were back in the dressing room of the photography studio, makeup wipe in hand and scrubbing off the pretty makeup. You heard the door open and close behind you, but you didn’t turn around. “If you’re in here to say something snarky about today, save it, Ghost.” You mumbled softly, focusing on wiping the remaining gloss from your lips.

Ghost remained silent, his boots clacking against the linoleum floors as he stalked towards you. His arm stretched out, taking the makeup wipe from your hand and discarding it as he turned you to face him. This time, however, your eyes locked on the way his balaclava was pushed up under his nose to reveal only his lips, pink and puffed out as his tongue ran over them. You could see a glint of metal punched into the muscle of his tongue.

“Y’wanna know somethin’, dove?” Ghost’s voice was a gravelly whisper, rumbling deep inside of his chest as he held your body between his and the vanity you were standing in front of. “You were right. Maybe I was a little jealous—hell, still am, if m'being honest.”

You were breathless, eyes wide and lashes fluttering as your brain scrambled to catch up to the words coming from his mouth. You were too busy staring directly at his mouth, the closet you’ve gotten to ever seeing Ghost’s real appearance, your heart thundering in your chest as the sound of blood rushing filled your ears. “Why?” Your question was almost inaudible, the heavy breathing coming from both of your nostrils almost drowning it out entirely.

Ghost hummed softly, leaning down ever so slowly and making the bunched up fabric under his nose brush against yours. “Maybe I don’t like seein’ you with another guy. Y’know how much I wanted to fucking drag you off of that asshole’s lap today? To pull his hand off of your stomach, your chest, your throat? To rip him to fuckin’ pieces?”

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, body fighting to keep itself from melting into a puddle on the floor below. You couldn’t help but grip onto the collar of Ghost’s shirt, eyes fluttering closed as his words washed over you like a tidal wave. “Ghost…”

“Tell me to stop.” Ghost hissed in your ear, his gloved hands moving from your shoulders and down your arms before finally landing with an almost bruising grip on your waist. The white fabric of your flowing gown bunched between his fingers. “You know how wrong this is? How much trouble I would be in for this? You’re my client. I shouldn’t want you this fuckin’ badly, dove.”

Your body squirmed in Ghost’s grasp, skin eager to feel him pressed up against you and snarling words into your ear. It was maddening in the best way possible. You couldn’t stop yourself. “Don’t stop, Ghost.” It was breathy and needy as it fell from your lips, but the groan it pulled from Ghost’s chest made it that much more powerful.

“Fuckin’ hell—you’re going to be the death of me, dove.”

(do i dare make a part 2 for this scene?👀)

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

Text

Propaganda

Cyd Charisse (The Bandwagon, Brigadoon, Singin’ in the Rain)—LEGS LEGS LEGS I would sell my soul for the legs of Cyd Charisse - she oozed style and glamour and sex appeal!! And she could DANCE! She was dancing next to the greats - Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire but they are never who you're looking at because why would you when you can look at her. I will only sit through too long ballet breaks for her. If there was any woman who you could call sex on legs it was her. These dances are everything to meeee (she comes in at the minute mark) and this dance too of course is iconic. In the words of Fred Astaire 'When you've danced with Cyd Charisse you stay danced with'

Suchitra Sen (Harano Sur, Chaowa Pawa)—Suchitra Sen! She had a 25-year career in Bengali films, and was at the height of popularity for a solid two decades as half of the wildly beloved pair of Uttam-Suchitra, who were practically the entire romantic genre of Bengali films by themselves. She acted in literary adaptations, romantic comedies, (melo)dramas and inspired-by-current-events films. She was the first Indian actress to receive an international award at the Moscow International Film Festival. In 1978, after the release of her last film (a box-office flop) she pulled a Garbo and put herself out of the public eye completely. She made no appearances, gave no interviews, refused awards, all of it. She didn't even show up for her daughter's or grand-daughters' debuts! She was taken for funerary rites in a covered hearse! The glamour! The mystery! That blinding smile!

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Suchitra Sen:

Not to take away from her costars in Devdas (1955), but the great Indian cinematic tradition of Tragic Romantic Yearning would not, I argue, be what it is without Suchitra Sen's performance in that film. I root for things to turn out better for her every time, even though I know how things are going to go.

A Bengali cinema icon. Liked crows (per Gulzar, "It was an astonishing sight. The crows used to pick at the grapes from her hand").

Linked gifset

She once rejected Raj Kapoor's movie offer (one of the most successful actor and director at the time). She was quoted saying, “In men, I don’t look for beauty. I look for intelligence and sharp conversations. I had refused Raj Kapoor’s offer almost immediately. He came to my residence offering a lead role and, as I took my seat, he suddenly sat near my foot and offered me a bouquet of roses while offering the role. I rejected the offer. I did not like his personality. The way he behaved – sitting near my foot – did not befit a man.”

Legendary poet, lyricist, director and writer Gulzaar had this to say about her "Glad that my ‘Sir’—that’s what I call her— got the Dada Saheb Phalke award during her lifetime. Contrary to people’s perceptions, Suchitra Sen is an extremely warm and very very friendly person. I adore and respect her. But she has the right to choose her friends. Surely she’s justified in keeping away from every Tom, Dick and Harry. She’s the only example of such quiet dignity in show-biz. That’s why the media compares her with Great Garbo. Suchitra Sen is my Sir. I’ll explain. During the shooting of Aandhi she started calling me Sir. Everyone in Kolkata calls her Madame. Since I’m her junior I requested her not to call me Sir. But she insisted. (We always converse in Bengali). So I call her Sir and she calls me Sir.”

Linked musical number [won't let me display embedded for some reason]

Cyd:

Photos do not do Cyd Charisse justice, unfortunately, because she is at her hottest while dancing, which she was exquisitely good at. Just go watch her first number in Singin' in the Rain, in that green dress; nothing I could say here will be more convincing that that.

She had amazing legs, and she knew how to use them! You probably know her best from the dream sequence in Singin' In The Rain. She was such a stunning dancer, and all her dance scenes are hard to look away from.

Dancing in the Dark clip:

youtube

She's an amazing dancer and my favorite from the period. Here's her and Fred Astaire in the Band Wagon:

youtube

I just like a woman who's there to be really incredibly good at dancing.

One of the most talented female dancers in Hollywood history, but what sets her apart from other competitors for that title is that she...umm...well let's be blunt, she was the dancer who put sex into it. The one who said "Hey, you know that A+ leg tone that naturally develops from doing this for a living? Why don't I let people see that? Like at every opportunity?" She reportedly insured her legs for five million dollars after hitting it big, which just goes to show that fame makes you crazy. It should have been ten million.

Arguably the Best female dancer of her time, she supposedly insured her legs for $5 million dollars. Stole the show whenever she had a dance number, even if she went uncredited. Musicals started to go out of fashion so unfortunately she didn't have as many big roles as she should have, but those she did are unforgettable. The Broadway Melody number in Singin' in the Rain - the green dress!

She could pirouette in pointes or tear it up in taps. Fred Astaire called her "beautiful dynamite" and wrote, "That Cyd! When you've danced with her you stay danced with." Gene Kelly partnered with her three times. Her legs were (reportedly) insured for $5 million in 1952 ($57.8 million in 2024 dollars)! Everyone in this poll will be iconic, but for raw physical grace, Cyd is up there with the best.

Legs for days, beautiful dancer in the most iconic scenes of Singin in the Rain. She's glorious. As some guys sung to her in It's Always fair weather, 'baby you knock me out!'

Incredibly, Cyd Charisse only started learning to dance as a rehab exercise to strengthen her body after a childhood bout of polio. She was in high demand as a dance partner, Fred Astaire called her beautiful dynamite and said "When you've danced with her, you stayed danced with". She was one of a few leading ladies to dance with both Astaire and Kelly, declaring them both delicious. Kelly apparently was stronger, while Astaire was more coordinated. She also said her husband would always know who she had been dancing with because Kelly left her bruised, while Astaire didn't leave a mark. She's better known for her dance numbers today, but she was a leading lady in her time! Her Scottish accent in Brigadoon leaves a lot to be desired, but compared to the other actors in the movie, it's almost good. She appeared in The Harvey Girls alongside Judy Garland and Angela Lansbury in her first speaking role, but she really burst onto the scene with Singin' in the Rain and her infamous Broadway Melody Ballet number with Gene Kelly (no one could handle a length of fabric like Cyd Charisse). She was brought in because Debbie Reynolds wasn't really a dancer and Kelly was notoriously a stickler about his Vision. After that she starred opposite Astaire in The Band Wagon, which was a bit of a flop but created some enduringly incredible dance numbers. She went on to star in a number of MGM movies, and was one of the last of the Studio era stars to remain on contract. Since we've got up to 1970, I'm including her opening routine in The Silencers (1966) to show just how long she was making a splash - she's into her 40s here and still a siren:

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and of course, the iconic Broadway Melody Ballet -

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#suchitra sen #cyd charisse #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

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footygirl114 · 10 months

Text

Cuando Eramos Niños (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

SO this is going to have another part.... but it got to this point today and I wanted to post something for y'all for being so patient with me. This one is a little less flirty Alexia, but it's the build up to the second part with all the cockiness. Let me know what we think?

Sitting on the plane to participate in your first world cup for your country was a surreal feeling, it was like nothing you have felt before. Looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by you couldn’t help but take a moment to reflect on the craziness of the past year.

You had hoped to be an alternate player called in for Euros, as a left back you had a hard time finding playing time with the quality the team already had. Moving from Spain to England to play for Aston Villa, meant that you were being noticed but you had yet to make your national team debut. Watching the euros from your couch back at your mothers house in Barcelona, made your drive to play for them deeper and you wanted to push harder to get there.

When the 15 came forward you hated that they had to do it, but you knew this would be your chance and you had to take advantage of it. And you did, you played some of the best football of your career during the international breaks but also during league play. You were working harder and digging deeper than you have ever done before.

When your name was on that 30 player shortlist for the world cup you almost cried, but you still knew that you would not be here without the sacrifice of others, particular Leila who was missing out but you were taking her spot. While you were working harder, it slipped your mind that you would also be back playing with Alexia again.

What no one else on the team realised was that you and Alexia had grown up together, she was a couple of years older than you, but she was your first for everything. You knew it was just a passing thing for her as you were younger and she was popular, but you knew the feelings you had for her ran much deeper than the ones she had for you.

When she started to play more and signed her pro contract you were still in school, then your first contract came and it was on the other side of the country. You both grew apart, but you never missed her games - unless you were playing yourself. Neither of you had reached out but you watched her flourish and grow into one of the best players in the world and you kept pushing down those feelings that would bloom whenever you saw her.

When you walked into camp that first day and your eyes locked you knew you were in trouble, when all those butterflies you felt came fluttering back. You couldn’t afford to be distracted now though so you vowed to yourself that you did not need her and you would make the team and do this by yourself.

She didn’t get the message, and tried to befriend you and sit with you any chance she got, the one good thing is that she never hinted to anyone that you knew each other before. Last thing you wanted was for anyone to pick up on the massive crush you have had on her for years. When you walked out of the room that the coaches were using to deliver a players fate. You thought it was cruel but it was common in sports, you packed your bags before and when you left the room you were either heading to the team bus to continue on, or to a cab to fly home.

Alexia was the first one you had seen walking out and you couldn’t help but let out an excited squeal and when she wrapped you in her arms it felt like coming home. The whispered “I am so proud of you” and the kiss pressed to your head made the butterflies go crazy.

The following weeks of training leading up to this moment you are on the plane went by in a blur of training, meetings, and ice baths so many ice baths. The also included Alexia slowly getting more comfortable flirting with you, and she was not subtle in the way she watched you from the sidelines during drills.

It wasn’t until the captain announced that the plan was landing that you shook out of your reflection. Reminding yourself in that moment that you got here on your own through hard work and grit meant that you would not given in to Alexia, she had already made her name in the football world. This was your chance to let everyone know what you could do.

Transitioning from this plane to the final plane that would take you into New Zealand you kept repeating it in your head. Since this was a shorter plane ride it was a smaller plane, the team took up most of the plane and you settled into a window seat wanting to see the sights as you were landing. You were so deep in focus looking out the window and thinking about how you were going to get over this jet lag in order to keep playing your best. You felt someone sitting down beside you and didn’t think twice of it until you could feel someone pressing against your side, and feel their breath on your ear, you immediately know it’s Alexia.

“Anything interesting out there?” she asks quietly into your ear. You feel the butterflies start again and the goosebumps on your skin as she finishes.

“Once we move there will be” you say quietly back.

She smiles and moves her hand to your arm and she rubs it softly as she says “I am looking at the most interesting thing here.”

You feel the blush rising on your cheeks as you say quietly “Ale please.”

She chuckles and says “I missed that, I have missed you Y/N”

Before you can answer the pilot announcement about seatbelts comes on and she leans back in her seat beside you. You wait until take off is over and you are at altitude before you turn toward her and say “I mean it you cant do that to me.”

She turns her body slightly toward you in the seat and say with a smirk “I can do what ever I want Y/N.”

“Ale, please Im asking you to give me a break” you say pleadingly.

She reaches her hand out and places it on your forearm as she asks “give me a reason why not?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breathe as you tell her “I worked my ass off to get here by myself, the last thing I need is a superstar like you complicating the one chance I will have to make my dream come true.”

“complicate?” she asks softly.

You look away as you say “yes Ale, you make me feel things that throw me off my game and I need to be on my game”

She squeezes your forearm and says “Y/N you are here cause we need you here, and you earned it. I have followed your career and I wish you had better opportunities to shine. The fact you didn’t and still shined proves to me that you belong here.”

You smile softly and met her eyes as you say “thank you for that Ale”

“do you remember that party in school when you found me sitting in the treehouse?” she asks softly as she runs her fingers softly over your wrist.

“I do” you say with a question.

She continues her movement as she says “do you remember why I was in the treehouse?”

You look at her confused as you say “you needed a break from the party.”

She softly shakes her head and says “I had just found out that I would be signing my first pro contract the following week, I was freaking out about living up to their expectations.”

“You never said that” you say back.

She smiles softly and says “I didn’t need to, its like you knew what to say without needing to know what I needed to hear.” she continues stroking your wrist moving up your forearms and she asks “do you remember what you said to me?”

You shake your head and say “no but I remember thats the first time you kissed me.”

She smirks and responds “I did but only because you told me that you believed in me and that I could do anything I set my mind to if I wanted to. You also told me that you would never stop following my career even if it took me to the other side of the world, cause you wanted to be able to say I know her.”

You smile and nod whispering “I said all that?”

“You did Y/N” she smiles “I never forgot it, and always knew I was playing for you.”

“this doesn’t change anything Ale” you whisper silently.

She nods and says “I know but I wanted you to know, that you have always been the reason I kept pushing, and for me this tournament being able to play beside you is a dream come true.”

“It’s my dream too Ale, but I need to do this on my own. I got this far on my own I need to not be the player sleeping with Alexia Putellas.” you say firmly. This whole time she’s been running her fingers on your forearm, and you can feel the comfort only she can provide you.

She smiles at you and says “I can respect that but I will not change who I am Y/N, and who I am wants to flirt with you, and ever since I saw you again last month it reminded me of the feelings I had when we were younger.”

“You did?” you ask her with a surprised look.

“I did, I do Y/N.” she says.

“even more reason I cant do this right now.” you say “I need to do this for me, and keep my head clear so I can be the best player I know I can be”

She smiles and says “Okay Y/N, but I am going to prove to you that there can be an us while we both are the best players we can be.”

Before you can answer there is shouting and the team is standing and dancing in the aisles of the plane, where they drag Alexia into the foray and you are happy that you do not have to have this conversation any more. turning back to the window all you can think about is how you will get these butterflies to calm down.

You spent the next week avoiding Alexia at all costs, it wasn’t that hard since she was training away from the team. She would meet your eyes and send you a wink anytime they connected, but anytime you looked over and she washy looking at you, the anguish and pain on her face made you want to wrap her in your arms and never let go.

Walking into the ice bath room the day before your first game of the world cup you saw the back of her head, you know it's her that pink hair doings it job, she was alone in the ice bath. You pause debating on coming back later, but the flash of her pained face comes across your mind and something pushes you to enter.

“room for one more?” You ask her as you walk into the room.

She immediately turns her head and smiles softly at you, you notice it doesn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah, come in Y/N, I am almost done.”

You frown at the back of her head as she turns away from you. Placing your stuff on the bench you pull your shorts off leaving you in spandex, and your shirt off leaving you in your sports bra. Moving towards the end of her tub you slowly step in and sink down in one motion.

You wait for her to say something and when she doesn’t meet your eyes you ask her “No comment about me stripping for you?”

You can see her mouth quirk up as she says “not today.”

Frowning as she still hasn’t looked to you, you move your foot to rub softly on her calf underwater as you ask her “penny for your thoughts?”

“I’m okay” she says.

“Ale, can you look at me when you say that?” you say and keep your foot rubbing on her calf.

Again you see the corner of her mouth quirk up, and she moves her eyes up and finally meets yours. You can see the anguish in her eyes and she asks “happy?”

“not really Ale” you say, you scoot closer to her and reach out for her hand as you ask “What’s going on in that pretty pink head of yours?”

She snorts and says “Cute Y/N” and she moves to stand up as her timer beeps.

You watch eyes locked on her body and she moves out of the tub and wraps a towel around her body, when she turns back to you with a smirk and a raised eye brow you smirk back and say “thanks for the show.”

“anytime Y/N anytime” she chuckles and turns to leave. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the tub. You wait till the door closes and when it never does you peak one eye open and see her standing there with her back to you. Closing your eye again you wait it out. “I hate this Y/N, I hate not playing. I was just told I probably won’t get many minutes tomorrow and it pisses me off that they pushed my body too much and now I might pay for it.”

You sit up and turn towards her still in the tub as you say “Alexia, thats not your fault.”

She spins towards you and says “It is my fault Y/N, I am supposed to be the leader of this team, but I cant if I cant play. I should be the one helping us to win this thing, instead I am taking a spot from someone with a working fucking knee.” When she finishes you can see the weight lift off her shoulders as she gets that out.

You get up and step out of the tub grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you. You move right in front of her and place your hands on her upper arms forcing her to look at you as you say “Every single one of us wants you here, no needs you here. You are a leader even when you aren’t on the field Ale. Don’t think I haven’t heard every one of your Barca teammates talk about your champion league half time talk. You are here to lead us to victory Ale.”

She softens and meets your eyes and says “what if I cant play Y/N?”

“Then you yell and scream and lead us from the bench Ale. Just having you with us makes us all better.” you say and move your hands down to grab her’s. “Remember when I broke my ankle and thought I would never play again?” she nods and you continue “and you told me that you would cut your ankle off and give it to me if it meant me smiling again?”

She chuckles and says “I did say that”

“I would do the same with my knee in a heartbeat Ale, every single one of us would. What i am trying to say is what you said to me a long time ago; That we need to fight through the hard times to get to the good times. You motivated me to be the bench player that my team needed, to be the strength when they lost there’s.”

She smiles with watery eyes as she says “who knew I was so wise”

“I did” you respond softly.

You watch as she inches closer to you and her eyes move down to your lips, you know you should pull away but right now you can tell she needs the closeness. Before your lips can touch your timer to get out of the ice bath dings and you pull back startled.

You hear her chuckle behind you as she says “thank you Y/N”

“anytime Ale and for the record I am going to be playing for you when you can’t” you say with a smile.

“then I’ll be the strength you need me to be Y/N” she smiles and you can hear movement down the hall as you smile and she says “we should go.”

Nodding you follow her out of the room. Your mind and heart is racing and you cant help but think you aren’t going to survive the whole tournament if she keeps this up.

When you get the nod on the starting 11 the following morning, you almost don’t believe it. But when you are lined up in the hallway waiting to walk out in your first world cup it finally hits you. When you are lined up for the anthems and you meet Alexia’s eyes, who’s dressed and ready to subbed on the bench, you feel a calm you didn’t know you needed.

3-0 up in the 70th minute you glance towards the sub board and see Alexia’s number, that is the moment that this game feels surreal to you. This was what you dreamed of when you were younger, you and Alexia playing together for Spain on the worlds stage.

She comes in and as the other subs are made, she looks towards you and smiles with a wink and you can feel the excitement build in your stomach, and this time you aren’t afraid of the butterflies, this time you use them.

The connection you and Alexia have lead to a goal, you make the run down the wing, she just knows you will be there. And when you cut it back you can see exactly where she will be and you lay it off perfectly to her at the top of the box, one touch and she’s placed it in the top corner.

She takes off running towards you and when she jumps up in your arms you know this feeling is one you want to keep feeling.

Once the final whistle blows and you have shaken the other teams hands, you feel Alexia come up behind you and place an arm over you shoulder. You lean into her and feel her whisper “Unreal game Y/N, you are unreal.”

You can feel the blush, but luckily you are still red from running as you say “Ale that shot was unreal.”

“only cause you set me up on a platter babe” she says with a wink as she pulls away to jog over to another player.

Standing there with a blush on your cheeks it takes you a moment to look around and take it all in. Knowing you have worked this hard to get to this moment was an overwhelming feeling, but you wanted to keep working hard and win this thing.

#woso imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #espwnt x reader

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