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#tw tornado mention
agent-barnes40 · 2 years
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To everyone in the Tornado areas: Please stay safe, keep a charged flashlight, a wind up radio, and canned food and water along with keeping your pets close. 
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reblogsheheheh · 4 months
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POV: my state
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rexscanonwife · 1 month
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Well waking up to a tornado alert at 5:30am is...not the way I imagined I'd start my anniversary tbh 😅😅😅
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bun-bun-selfships · 30 days
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Man I thought it was just Ohio being Ohio with its tornadoes but every person I know had some form of a tornado watch or warning what the hell
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sayitaliano · 10 months
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Basta?
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protectxthem · 2 years
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I'm not sure if I'll be on tomorrow. We're supposed to get hit with a bad storm. Last time this happened there was a tornado that took out that Amazon warehouse.
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hi we had an EAS alert go off, alarm and all, that said "tornado warning until 8:15 PM, please take shelter in your basement", but no one else in the house got that?? like we were panicking and shit and everyone else was calm as hell??? has that happened to anyone else because we didn't even know that was possible until tonight
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apolladay · 6 days
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horrifang · 2 years
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I am so tired of getting tornado warnings and having thunderstorms every night. Please god I just want peace!!!!
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yepyeahuhhuh · 2 years
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and now we’re under a tornado warning
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trashmouth-richie · 1 year
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Eddie x fem!reader. [vol I]
Summary: just a bit of Eddie’s shenanigans 😈
TW: no minors, angst, mentions of hard times.
W.C: 4.7k
A/N: hope you are all enjoy this! Thank you for all the love received on the first chapter 🥰
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You spent the rest of the night questioning why you ever placed the ad in the paper to begin with. Certainly you could just go to sleep and you’d wake up to all of Eddie’s belongings gone because this was a nightmare.. right? Of course. You’d wake up any minute now and things would go back to the way they used to be.
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//
-
Oh how you had hoped.
Eddie wearing your robe was just the tip of the iceberg of the stupid shit he would endure for the next 12 hours. After eating 7 slices of pizza, he wiped his greasy hands down the front of it. Settling for that instead of the arms of the couch after you had scolded him. He talked during the entire episode of The Nanny.
“Holy shit, she’s hot, I mean her voice is kinda nasally but woooowwweeeee.. you think she’s into metalheads? I bet she is. I bet she’d love to be wrapped all up in me, it'd be a secret though for her.” He talked with his mouth full, bits of cheese and pizza sauce flying from his lips and landing on his naked chest. His feet were propped up on the coffee table, toes wiggling like he was a child watching cartoons. “Got any chips? I’m hungry.”
He left a mess wherever he went. The chips he begged you for were still sitting open on the couch. Crumbs decorated the upholstery like confetti at a New Year’s Eve party. His pizza plate on the coffee table, holding an impressive amount of beer cans. Instead of hanging your robe back up on its proper hook in the bathroom, he left it on the floor in between the living room and the hallway. You had gone to bed after he insisted on belching “Love Bites” with three beers tucked between his legs. It was at this moment you thought of begging Steve and Robin to move in with you instead.
“For the last time, I refuse to try to out burp you, I will not be duct taping beers to my hands, and for the love of god if you get salsa on the carpet I will skin you alive.”
“It puts the lotion on its skin….”
You stomp to bed, slamming your bedroom door and throwing the covers over your head. You can hear Eddie slurring through your bedroom walls.
“C’mon Tooooty, I thought we were having a slumber party. You didn’t even paint my nails yet!” His small hiccuping giggles turn into a roar of laughter lasting entirely too long.
-
The next morning you wake up to your alarm, it’s peaceful, content. Today is a new day and you have a busy schedule working at the salon. Saturdays are easily the most hectic at Josie’s. It seems it’s the only day off for most people to come in and get their hair done. You dress in a simple black tank top tucked into a black mini skirt, a form fitting denim vest over top, and black chunky slide sandals. Spritzing yourself with your Exclamation perfume you just have to brush your teeth and grab a little breakfast.
Upon opening your bedroom door you are hit with a stench so ungodly, it makes the hair stand up on your arms. Did a fucking tornado crash through your home? How hard were you sleeping? You felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz only in reverse, while she was mystified by the sights around her you were full of rage, disgust, and sheer anger.
Eddie.
For fucks sake it is almost as if he needed a goddamn babysitter.
Beer cans litter the floor. A silver ball made of duct tape was sitting on the couch, the small tv was still on. All your VHS’s were scattered along the floor by the entertainment center. A plate of what looked like hardened shredded cheese was balancing on the edge of the coffee table. Rolling papers, and two joints were piled on top of it, along with various baggies of god knows what. Chips were ground into the carpet, their sharp edges making the carpet glitter with nacho cheese and tortilla shrapnel. And sitting opened and probably now dry, was the blue nail polish you had gotten with Robin. The whole place reeked of the dirty rotten scent of spilled stale beer soaking cotton fabric, the remnants of weed wafting from the furniture baking into the fibers from the sun streaming through the windows in lazy strips of golden yellow.
Homicide is probably what? 10 years? You could manage that.
You make your way into the culprits room, swearing under your breath and feeling the sweat start on the back of your neck. Pushing through the heap of clothes and worn boots, you find the prince of trash laying on his back, soft snores escaping his slack mouth. There aren’t even sheets on his mattress, just mountains of his belongings.
A beer is taped crudely to his left hand, your brand new bottle of jergens lays next to him along with a playboy— flipped open to a brunette with obvious fake tits and her lips placed into an orgasm. He apparently threw some boxers on during his midnight raccoon shenanigans.
This is comparable to bringing home a dog from the humane society, you aren’t sure how they’ll act but once you go to sleep— all hell breaks lose.
“Eddie,” you yell, loud enough that your own ears are ringing. He doesn’t move a muscle, just a loud snore erupting from him. You kick at his legs, push his body around but nothing. If it weren’t for the snoring you probably should have called a coroner.
One last slap against his bare chest and he finally groans, “gimme five more minutes baby and I promise I’ll rock your world.” Jesus Christ.
Fuck it, just go to work, you can deal with him when you get home. Breath in and out. Nope— the fuse that was lit in your brain from Eddie’s mess inches its way slowly towards the dynamite, licking up the wick. Also like a dog from the shelter, they need to be trained, told when they are doing something wrong, and immediately corrected.
Filling a cup with cold water you waltz back into his room a smile plastered to your lips.
The splash of water against Eddie’s face is music to your ears as he gasps for breath. Spluttering and sitting up, spilling the beer taped to his hand, he looks like a cat that was thrown in the tub, long curls soaking wet, his bangs parted and thrown back from the force of the water hitting him.
“Damn sweetheart, I said give me five minutes and I’d give you all ten inches of my co—” the plastic cup bounces off of Eddie’s head. “Okay, ow. Goddamn what was that for?!”
“What was that for?! Look around Eddie!” You motion around the house as he stands up holding his head and pressing the palm of his right hand into his eye, dragging it down his face to wipe the remnants of cold water away, “this place is disgusting!”
You begin to list off everything wrong, as you walk around the house, Eddie following begrudgingly behind you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You point out the chips in the carpet, the hardened cheese plate, the vhs mess. Each and everything you show him your voice gets higher and higher and louder and louder. The rage bubbling up in your body as you huff around. A large hand and the odd sensation of a rubbery plastic mass spin you around, holding onto your shoulders.
Eddie’s face is so close to yours, you can see the sun reflecting off the usual darkened browns of his eyes, bringing a goldmine to the muddy surface.
“Tooty— it’s far too early for this shit,” he speaks slowly, the Cheshire Cat like grin on his stupid face spreads across his lips revealing his straight white teeth, “you need to relax a little bit.” He notices the weight of the beer can and tips it back into his mouth, chugging the rest of it and smacking his lips when he’s done. Adding a deafening belch upwards to the ceiling.
You curl your lip in disgust and shove his arm off of you. “What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”
Crossing your arms and taking a step back from him, you take a deep breath, “I don’t know how you lived in the trailer park, and frankly— I don’t give a fuck—but, you will not, make a mess of my house. Either, clean this shit up before I get home from work, or I’ll personally move your crap out to the lawn. Got it?”
His smile fades, and his eyebrows pull together, eyes squinted. The hum of the ceiling fan is the only noise in the house. “Are you threatening me at 7:30 in the morning?” he asks, checking his watch, towering over you. No doubt he is trying to freak you out.
It takes everything in you to not slap him upside the head.
You stand your ground, not letting his carved jaw and mean eyed demeanor get the best of you.
“Damn right I am. I’ll have your shit lying on the lawn like a horrendous Halloween yard sale. Just because the whole town thinks you're some psycho, bastard doesn’t mean I do— you don’t scare me, Munson,” his surname falling from your lips like agent orange, thick and heavy painting the air around you both. Your head held high, eyes glaring back into his. His bravado falters and he also crosses his arms, matching your energy.
“Maybe you should pull the stick out of your ass before it splinters, babe.” Eddie chides back, lips spreading manically across his face.
Neither of you will let the other win, and if you didn’t have to go to work, you would stand here all day arguing with him. You poke a manicured nail into his chest. “You owe me a new bottle of lotion.” With that you push past him and make your way into the bathroom to finish getting ready.
“It was either that or the mayonnaise, sweetheart!”
-
You had always found comfort working at Josie’s. She had taken you on immediately after finishing Cosmetology school at Empire Beauty School in Indianapolis, giving you full time hours and helping you buy your supplies. Nancy had dropped down to part time, working for both the Hawkins Post and cutting hair on the side. Josie was like an older sister to you, and you loved her dearly.
After doing matching perm sets on a mother and daughter, a trim on your regular client, Audrey, and catching up with the latest gossip from Molly about her date that ended with them making out in his car—it was time for your lunch break.
The leftover half of a tuna salad sandwich stared you down from its cellophane wrapper, begging you to ingest the soggy yet stale bread. A stomach ache waiting to happen. Tossing it into the trash, you settle for Marlboro menthols and a Diet Coke. The sun is high in the sky, begging you to enjoy it.
You shed your vest as you sit on the back patio, leaning your head against the neon pink and white striped plastic pool chair lounger, stretching your legs out and kicking off your sandals. You accept the sun’s rays into your skin. Sunglasses poised on your face and a cigarette tucked between your mauve painted lips, you pretend you’re in a movie.
But you’re not— you’re in the middle of Butthole, Indiana. The only exciting thing that happened here was the possibility of hearing the latest town gossip about someone’s cousin, friend, or ex getting knocked up by the high school football star.
You longed for a day off where you and Robin could enjoy the once luxurious but not desolate woods of Lover’s Lake. Nothing but the peaceful breeze to fill your mind and the light rustle of the leaves.
Nancy pulled the blue matching chair up next to you, curling her legs beneath her as you silently pull your lighter from your pocket and hand it to her. A small cloud of smoke dances around your face as she lights her cigarette inhaling deeply.
“Ready for the honeymoon?” You ask her as she inches her way down the seat, a slight squeak to the rubbery plastic as she settles her body in.
Nancy and Jonathan had gotten married two months ago. The wedding was pristine and beautiful in typical Nancy fashion. Her glorious curls in a French twist, soft tendrils framing her youthful face. A pearl colored lace gown billowing behind her and sleeves puffed around her shoulders with dainty lace decorating down her delicate wrists. She looked incredible.
You cried standing beside Holly and El in your peach colored satin gowns, wiping your eyes when they read their nuptials, vowing to be together during sickness and in health. Will, Argyle, and Mike stood beside Jonathan trying like hell to stand upright as the bachelor party spilled into the midnight hours, Mike, paler than usual and Will, drenched with sweat under the beaming lights of the church. Argyle was the only one smiling through the entire ceremony, moving his head to the rhythm of the organ.
Karen had wept and gathered you into a tight hug for helping style the bridal party’s hair that morning, and for being such a wonderful roommate to Nancy. Ted checked his watch every half hour, and kept an eye on the punch which seemingly looked to get darker and darker throughout the night.
Joyce and Hopper held each other close and danced slow to every song played. Their undying love for one another evident on their faces.
A very drunk Murray Bauman hollered obscenities behind the bar, obviously taking advantage of the open bar night as he mixed drinks for the Wheeler and Byer wedding guests, heavy on the liquor. It wasn’t until grandma Wheeler grabbed the mic and started singing Frank Sinatra that someone caught on to Murray’s antics.
You had danced and laughed along with your high school classmates all night, spilling champagne and beer onto the community center floor, the bottom of
Nancy’s dress turned an ugly smoke gray. It was a perfect summer wedding, one that all of Hawkins would be talking about for years to come.
Nancy stretched her back and twisted her neck to look at you, blue eyes peering over round colored lenses, “Yes, I can’t wait to dip my toes in the ocean,” she says beaming, “we’ve been going to the pool pretty often these last few weeks trying to tan Jonathan a little bit so he doesn’t burn like a piece of bread in Cancun.”
A giggle bubbles on her lips as you laugh along with her. “Any luck on finding a roommate?”
You had been dreading this conversation. Originally you had hoped that Erica Sinclair or even Max would maybe want to be your roommate. Sadly they were both either starting college or finishing up their degree this year—Lucas turned down a full ride basketball scholarship to be with Max. Even the boys had places to go. Dustin and Suzy were finishing their summer internships and moving in together—he had plans on proposing after summer’s end. Will lived in Indianapolis, he became a teacher’s aid after finishing his Bachelor’s in Fine Arts, hoping to one day become a professor. Mike and El lived in Hopper’s cabin, tucked deep in the woods. Celebrating being together for almost 10 years. It was quite literally just you— single, and desperate for a roommate.
“Yeah— I uhh— they moved in last night actually,” you said through a wall of smoke nonchalantly. Lighting another cigarette to power through this conversation.
Nancy is picking at her cuticles and flipping through Cosmo as she asks who answered the ad.
A nervous laugh surpasses your lips, “Eddie,” you say in almost a question.
Nancy stops moving entirely. The ash from her cigarette threatening it’s length. She shakes her head and corrects herself, “Sorry, I think I had a stroke… did you say Eddie? As in Eddie Munson?”
You throw your arm over your eyes and slip further into the chair, hoping it would swallow you whole. A groan escapes your lips followed by your confirmation.
“There was no one else! Everyone is off at school, or getting engaged— he was the only one to show up and look at the house! Plus he forked out more cash than I had originally been asking for so obviously he can afford the rent.”
“Probably drug money,” Nancy coughed.
“Honestly I don’t care if he robbed a bank, the money is there and right now—” the threat of what your life could become stings like a wasp in your brain, red ink showing final notice, light switches not working due to the electricity being shut off, before Eddie moved in— you were well on your way to that lifestyle. “that is what matters.”
Nancy huffs in disagreement, taking a breath to settle her nerves. “I don’t know him personally— but just be careful. Wait, wasn’t he friends with—”
“Yup.” You quip, tight lipped and short, “Robin and Steve know him too.”
“That's what I had thought, well at least he’s not like, a total stranger then.”
Nancy listens intently to the horrors of the past 24 hours at the house she once lived in. Twisting her wedding ring around her small fingers, she had never been more thankful to be married.
-
The work day ended later than you had hoped, a last minute client showed up begging for a “quick perm” — as if there were such a thing. You waved goodbye as you reminded her of the strict no washing policy when it came to maintaining her curls in place. You sweep the floor in a rush and place your combs and scissors in the blue barbicide. Putting away the perm rods and wiping down the surfaces. Switching over the laundry so at least the towels would be dry by the time you opened on Monday morning.
You were tired and your back felt a little stiff. You shut off the radio, still humming Material Girl, to yourself as you turned off the lights and locked the door.
The drive home was short, your small Ford escort a blur through the streets of Hawkins. You could hear your bed calling you, maybe you’d make yourself a grilled cheese and do some laundry so you wouldn’t have to do it tomorrow. But when you pulled into your driveway you realized you wouldn’t be relaxing at all tonight.
The garage door was pulled open, a makeshift banner with red and black spray painted letters on it spelled out “Corroded Coffin”, a better glance at it and you could see it was the same pattern as your spare bed sheets that you kept in the linen closet. The garbage cans were moved out of the way and tossed into the front yard. Cords from amps and a microphone were plugged into every outlet your small garage could offer. A drum set was in the back beside the shelf that held old paint cans full of lead. The floppy blond haired idiot slammed a Busch Light as he twirled a drumstick in his hand. Two members of the band were head banging along to the guitar solo that Eddie was plucking away at. His fingers moved fluidly over the fretboard. Years of practice evident in the dexterity of his hands. The muscles in his arms tight and flexed, veins protruding around them. There were beer cans scattered all around them. Another dirty thirty, no doubt. Fries were spilling out of empty fast food bags and greasy burger wrappers were littering the ground. The push mower was laying on its side, in the middle of the driveway. The rake snapped in half.
The slam of your car door goes unheard.
The unhinged quirk of your jaw starts to ache as you clench your teeth, stomping towards the garage band. The guitar solo ends just as you get to the garage. They’re all hollering and cheering as Eddie whips his head back, long sweaty strands of his curls whipping around as he tries to catch his breath. Holding the beer at arms length, he pours it into his mouth, light amber colored lager flowing down his chin and the expanse of his neck.
“Fuckin’ told you Jeff,” Eddie says, throwing the beer to the ground at the other guitarists feet, “don’t matter if its been five or fifteen years— I can still play that Master of Puppets solo.” A smug smile spreads across his mouth as he pulls a joint from his back pocket, and lights it between lips.
Jeff swings his guitar off his neck and places it on one of the amps, “yeah, yeah whatever man— you gonna share that or just keep gloating?”
You are standing on the driveway, hands on your hips, weight balancing on one leg, the other straight out, foot tapping in annoyance, waiting for the band of rejects to notice your throat clearing.
“Tooty!” They all yell in unison.
Your expression doesn’t fade. Jaw unhinged, lips pressed together tightly. The icy cold of your stare burrowing into Eddie’s beer and sweat soaked skin, a hazy film around him as he exhales the joint.
“Aww, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He says with fake concern, a smirk curled on his lips, “you mad you missed the jam sesh?” Eddie croons, the tip of the joint goes red as he inhales again and passes it to Jeff, “don’t worry we do this every other night I’m sure you’ll catch the next one.”
The garage fills with echoing drunk laughs and the asshole on the drums hits a ba dum tss. Causing Eddie to choke on his exhale and start a coughing fit. He’s doubled over laughing as he forces the smoke from his lungs.
“Not here you’re not.”
He looks from you to the guys, all four dumbstruck by your words.
“Please tell me, Tooty, why I, a paying resident of this house,” he says, gesturing wildly around him, taking long legged steps towards you, head dipping and turning to catch your gaze, “am not ‘allowed’ to practice with my band, in a garage that we share?”
He’s lowering his head down to you, the ends of his sweaty curls licking your cheeks as he closes the gap between you, rubbing a hand across his chin, that same smirk on his face as always.
“Hmm?”
You let out an exhausted sigh. After a long day at work the only thing you had wanted to do was relax— not deal with Eddie’s antics.
“I’m not going to entertain your little half-witted dreams from middle school on being the next Kirk Hammett— find somewhere else to play rockstar, and get this shit out of here.”
You shove past him and the band as you stomp through the door leading into the kitchen, hanging up your keys. A quick look around made your head spin.
The house looked worse now than it did when you left for work. Dishes piled along each surface on the counters and into the sink, the microwave was open with what looked like the remnants of a spaghetti-o explosion, a beer can pyramid was starting in the living room. A burnt aluminum pan of jiffy pop sat on the stove, charred on the bottom. The trash bag suitcases Eddie had packed his belongings with, were now thrown in between his room and the hallway.
You were fed up with this bullshit, it had been 24 hours and he was already on your last nerve. Dragging both hands down your face in sheer fatigue, you grab a roll of trash bags from under the sink. Walking heavy footed back to the door, making as much noise as possible, you fling open the door, four pairs of wide eyes stare you down as you shake open the garbage bag.
“Here, let me help you because apparently you don’t have any common fucking sense.” You stomp over to Eddie and rip another bag free from the roll and toss it to him.
In the best condescending tone you can muster you explain, “This, is a garbage bag. Oooh, ahhh. Cool right? See? When you are done with something and it’s empty,” you educate the gaggle of degenerates, “you pick it up, and throw it away! Wow.” You demonstrate for them, picking up an empty can of beer and placing it in the bag.
“See how easy that is? Now,” you say turning towards Eddie your eyes lost of any endearment, “Do you think you big boys could handle that? Or do you need written instructions?”
A scoff is heard from behind you, as it’s now your turn to smirk, stomping back up the steps and into the kitchen, slamming the door hard behind you.
-
Huffing and puffing, you know that the house will never get clean if you don’t do it yourself. You change into a faded Hawkins High shirt and a pair of old worn cotton shorts with paint smears on the hips from when you and Nancy tackled painting the living room last summer, as you set to work on the kitchen. Pulling on a pair of rubber yellow gloves, you make work on cleaning the mess Eddie had made. The soft hum of your kitchen radio plays as Pearl Jam invades the background. You first fill the sink with the hottest water the faucet allowed, dousing the dishes with dish soap. You’re carrying around the garbage can, picking up empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and the charcoal mess of black popcorn on the the stove.
You don’t hear him enter the kitchen, your mind far away to another time, when Nancy lived with you and the only problem she caused was paying rent a week early. He advances towards you and stops in front of you, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath.
“What’s your fuckin’ problem? You can be a bitch to me all you want, but the guys don’t deserve that.”
You set the garbage can down by your feet, a rubber glove shoved into his chest, “If you think I give a fuck about what they deserve, you are sadly mistaken! I deserve to not have my house completely trashed every time I turn my back!”
“I didn’t know I was living in a fucking convent, Sister Tooty.” Eddie argues, proud of his comeback he leans against the counter, arms folded across his chest, “that why you never get laid?”
You roll your eyes, “fucking yourself with a beer can taped to your hand isn’t exactly getting laid, Munson. But keep it up, you won’t be living here for long if you keep acting like a fucking pig!”
“Again, with your empty threats, sweetheart. Isn’t it tiring being so mad all the time— careful, looks Iike you’re already getting wrinkles.” A throaty laugh escapes his mouth and he sweeps his thumb between your eyebrows, trying to joke around and diffuse the tension growing between you both.
You swat your hands at him and pull away, a look of disgust and frustration planted on your face.
“Jesus,” he says irritated, “Harrington told me that your family moved away— didn’t know it was because you’re such a stone-cold bitch.”
Without even thinking, you shove him hard in the chest. He goes crashing backwards, the rest of the cluttered items on the counter cascade to the floor with loud thuds. Your cheeks are heated, and your eyes glisten with tears, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. You look at your socked feet and back up to him. Your lip quivering, head held high.
His expression is stunned, not angry like you thought he would be. A look of worry washes over his face as he realizes he crossed the line. Anger ran its course as he recognizes that he hurt you.
“Ah fuck,” he breathes, putting his head down and shaking his long mane. He looks back up to your face, still steady, not daring to let those traitorous tears fall.
“Tooty, I’m— I’m sorry.”
You pluck off your rubber gloves and toss them to the counter, making a dash to the bathroom and locking the door. Eddie doesn’t hear your crying, drowned out from the shower head as he starts to clean up his mess.
vol iii
A/N: thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! If your name is crossed out on the Taglist it means your settings are more than likely set to private and you’re not allowed to be tagged!
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songmingisthighs · 1 month
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Beefcake Raccoon
group : ateez
pairing : yeosang × reader (ft. boyfriend!jongho)
genre : smut
wc : 6.5 k
tw : mdni, explicit smut, unprotected sex, consensual sex, slight m × m (ofc between jongsang), fingering, cum tasting, dirty talk, cowgirl, creampie, mentions and description of jongho's junk, idk what else to tag here ngl
a/n : pt. 1 of an impulsive mini series with @bro-atz and @skteezcursed. pt. 2 and 3 will be added here once they drop! and yes, i call yeosang beefcake raccoon. how can i nawt when he looks like this ??? and yea i kinda went overboard with this because i had planned on writing 2.5-3k but here we are
a/a/n : it's 12.38 am and i'm sleepy and still sick as fuck and i had the sudden raging NEED to purchase all of the aniteez keyring. which i might do. idk if this is my manic episode making a comeback or me having impulse control issue
buy me coffee ?
beefcake raccoon | concrete bear | pt. iii
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Yeosang isn't really one to butt into other people's business, not even when certain things affect him personally.
For example, he never really voiced out how much he didn't like the way Hongjoong would come into his room, steal his supplements, and just leave things a mess. Mind you, he has no problem with letting the older guy take a couple pills or tablets from what could only be described as a collector's mountain. Heck, he's a firm believer in sharing whatever they own especially with people Yeosang already thought of as family. He just didn't like the way Hongjoong tended to leave some of the bottles not properly screwed. He hates seeing things not properly screwed. So he would just take a breath and clean up after the captain.
Another example is when a tornado came barrelling in. And no, it's not a real tornado which would have probably been better. Yeosang didn't voice out his complaints when his best friend of almost a decade suddenly came by the dorm he shared with Yunho only to kick him out. "Yunho and I are in this small gaming tournament and we need to beat this son of a bitch," Wooyoung said as he set up his gaming stuff on the dining table with Yunho who stopped momentarily and furrowed his eyebrows at this frantic friend, "You do know punchpunch483 is 12 years old, right?" which resulted in Wooyoung glaring at him, "A punk is a punk no matter the age, I will not stand the disrespect that's why he and his guild are going down so deep in the ground he can say hi to his grandpa." At that point, Yeosang simply clocked out of the conversation, dejectedly resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to just watch his show in his bed and fall asleep to it.
There were some conflicts in Yeosang's brain, however. One good thing about the dorm Wooyoung shared was the fact that he lives with a workaholic nomad and an introverted busybody. One bad thing about the dorm Wooyoung shared was the fact that said dorm is often occupied by a girl Yeosang has a crush on and that girl is dating one of his other best friends.
Yeosang considers Jongho to be one of the luckiest men to be alive to be dating you. You, who in his mind is the most adorable sweetheart of a human being to have ever lived. It wasn't like you were the most polite person what with the names you can throw towards people you dislike and mutter towards rude strangers and the screeching laugh you sometimes let out when someone told you a stupid joke. Everything about you seemed so charming in Yeosang's eyes even when you were being touchy with the friend he was oh so jealous of. Sometimes Yeosang wonders, in his existential crisis-ridden thoughts at 3 am, the chances of the two of you being in the same lifetime. He wouldn't say that he was in love with you, but he wouldn't deny that he would often daydream about what it would be like to be with you, to be the one kissing you and to be the one getting back hugs from you. Well, he wouldn't deny it to himself.
So another good thing about Wooyoung's dorm is probably the fact that he could see and interact with you. But one other bad thing is the fact that sometimes he felt like Jongho knew how he thinks about you and that unnerves him. So he tends to avoid moments where you and Jongho are together because he can never seem to control the longing expression on his face and Jongho would always send him a knowing look and he knew one day he would just crack like an egg under hydraulic pressure.
It seemed like his resolve wasn't faring any better because when he first came by the dorm, he saw you on top of Jongho's lap on the couch, kissing him all over his face and whining. He knew he should at least expect to be met with you and Jongho being all over each other, but maybe not to this extent. The sound of him coming in didn't seem to deter either of you from your... Activities.
Whatever dirty thoughts passed Yeosang's head were almost immediately pushed away however when he saw Jongho pushing you away from him gently and sighing, "I told you I can't do this tonight," he said which earned him a scoff from you, "You've been saying that for the past four days, Jongho and frankly I'm starting to can't do it anymore," you said before pushing yourself off of your boyfriend completely. "That is not even grammatical," Jongho chuckled and you only flipped him off before turning to retire to Jongho's room only to pause when you saw Yeosang.
Yeosang's heart skipped a beat when he saw your frown turn into a bright smile, squealing and hugging him tightly. "Raccoon!" You called out happily. Yeosang never knew why, but you had seemed to start calling him 'beefcake raccoon'. Well, you did explain that it was because he was, in your own words, 'beefy' and his hair for his latest comeback made him look like a raccoon so in a sense, your logic did make sense. What doesn't seem to make sense is how you only call him and your boyfriend with adorable yet odd animal names. To you, Jongho was your concrete bear and Yeosang was your beefcake raccoon which pissed Wooyoung and San off but maybe that's because San is a jealous cat and Wooyoung wanted to be called foxy mama and you scolded them for being so relentless.
Despite his nerves, Yeosang grinned and hugged you back gently, not being able to stop himself from inhaling the scent of your shampoo and enjoying your warmth against his body. "Hi (y/n), is something wrong?" Yeosang asked as you both pulled away. At the mention of something wrong, your frown returned and you snapped your head to glare at your boyfriend who was still just sitting there, smiling innocently as if he hadn't denied you sex for four days straight. "Oh something is very wrong but it's with your buddy Choi Jongho over there. I'm starting to think he's no longer turned on by me or by any vagina-owning creature on earth," you hissed. "Okay you can't say things like that because some animals also own vaginas and I'm not into bestiality," Jongho scolded. At that moment, Yeosang thought he should just go to Wooyoung's room because he felt like he was being dragged into people's business and as fun as it is talking about kinks that could possibly lead him to know yours, he was not about to delve into this particular discussion. Luckily, you threw your arms up in the air and turned to him again, "Seriously Yeosang, if you were Jongho, would you choose vocal recording over sex?" Yeosang's eyes widened and he almost blurted out that he would never choose anything over you but thankfully Jongho beat him into answering you, "I'm telling you, Hongjoong hyung has been riding my ass with this new demo and you know how he is when inspiration struck," Jongho tried to reason. With a roll of your eyes you walked away to Jongho's room but not before yelling out, "Well, at least something's riding you, you cocky bastard!"
Jongho seemed unbothered, chuckling by himself as he watched your figure retreat. "You're not following her?" Yeosang asked, looking back and forth between the couple. Jongho simply shook his head, "Nah, she needs time to just... Cool off and I need to resist the temptation because Hongjoong hyung will be pissed if I come into the studio tired and hoarse," Yeosang nodded in understanding because he does understand what Jongho meant, having been on the receiving end of Hongjoong's wrath in the past for being, in Hongjoong's words, unprofessional, unprepared, and unremarkably disrespectful to people's time. But still, Yeosang felt bad for you and he didn't like seeing you pissed like that which was shown by the way he stared in the direction you went to for quite some time before he excused himself to rest in Woyooung's room, missing the way Jongho was staring at him knowingly with a smug smirk on his face.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Yeosang thought that his involvement in your relationship with Jongho would end that night but when he woke up at 7 am the next day, he was met with the sight of Jongho's door open and as he passed the room, he saw Jongho tucking you in and stroking your hair and taking particular focus in the way his friend's shoulder drop when he sighed in disappointment.
Feeling like Jongho could use a moment, Yeosang just quietly tiptoed to the kitchen and helped himself to Wooyoung's stash of good coffee and started brewing.
Soon enough, Jongho showed up and sat down on the stool of the kitchen counter while opening his phone to check his text message, waiting for the manager to inform him that the car had arrived. Wordlessly, Yeosang poured himself and also Jongho a cup of coffee each. Jongho quietly thanked his older friend before sipping his cup in a slightly slumped position.
"Are you okay?" Yeosang asked, sensing something. Jongho sighed and nodded, "I feel bad for (y/n) for denying her sex and it's not like I don't want to, but I'm just not in the position to considering the state I would be in would not be conducive for recording and I really don't want to deal with Hongjoong hyung getting pissy at me," he sighed. Not knowing what else to say, Yeosand decided that he should at least be polite in this situation, "That's rough man, anything I can do?"
That particular question seemed to have turn a switch in Jongho's head because one moment he had a mopey look on his face, and the next, it was pure intrigue.
"You know what, hyung, I think there is something you can do," he said, finishing his coffee and straightening up. Sensing Jongho's resolve genuinely changing, Yeosang raised an eyebrow, "Okay? What can I do?" "Do you think you can accompany (y/n) and make sure she has all her needs met?" Jongho asked. The prospect of spending the day with you made Yeosang's eyes blink faster and heart beat harder. "S-sure, I guess. I have no schedules today so I can take her to wherever she wants," he ensured, clearing his throat when he felt like his tone showcased how excited he was even if it was only sightly. Jongho raised his eyebrows and smirked, realizing that Yeosang hadn't caught his drift, "You'll take her wherever she wants? What about taking her... However she wants?" Still not getting it, Yeosang nodded slowly, "Yes? I'll... Do whatever it is you want me to do to help your girlfriend feel better?"
Jongho couldn't believe how adorably innocent Yeosang was being. Knowing him for years, Jongho realized how some things could easily go over Yeosang's head by no fault of his own. He was just never introduced to the more scandalous side of life and it wasn't like he sought out information either.
Yeosang stared at Jongho in confusion as the younger chuckled and stood up, "Yes, that's... Correct in a sense I guess," Jongho then rounded the kitchen counter to stand in front of Yeosang. Jongho's phone buzzed and he momentarily checked the message he received before shoving his phone into his pocket, "But just to make sure both you and (y/n) get my point," All of a sudden, Jongho pulled Yeosang by his shirt and planted his lips on the older guy. Yeosang's eyes widened and his hands gripped the counter to regain control of his body because the impact from Jongho's sudden attack suddenly sent him reeling.
Initially, Yesoang was sent into a panicked and confused state because what the hell was Jongho doing? Why was he kissing him? What if you woke up and saw your boyfriend and one of his best friends kissing?
Correction, making out.
Somehow Jongho had managed to slip his tongue into Yeosang's mouth and at first, Yeosang wanted to protest and push him away. Heck, he had already gotten a hand on Jongho's shoulder but for some reason, he melted slightly into Jongho and as fucked up as it is, his mind drifted to thoughts that he knew he shouldn't be having. Those thoughts were mainly in the area of 'this is the tongue that had caressed and tasted (y/n)' and it got him hard faster than he cared to admit. The thought of you helped relax Yeosang slightly and before he realized it, he was kissing Jongho back with the same fervor which made Jongho unknowingly smirk, pleased that Yeosang was responding to him.
It wasn't until Jongho felt his phone buzzed again that he pulled away, realizing that he had to go. He couldn't even hide the satisfied look on his face when he saw how flushed Yeosang was after their little makeout session. For sure, you were going to like things just as much as he did should things go according to his plan. "Please give that to (y/n)," Jongho said all too simply as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Still blear-eyed and slightly confused, Yeosang was trying hard to make his brain work. "W-what?" he managed out after he felt air filling back into his lungs. "Give that kiss to (y/n), the exact same way, please?" Jongho grinned, a little bit too happily.
Even with Jongho repeating himself, Yeosang was still trying to make sure of things, putting 2 and 2 was for him especially since he was practically mauled by Jongho. Seeing the state his friend was in, Jongho exhaled sharply and stood closer to Yeosang, "I am giving you full permission to do ABSOLUTELY WHATEVER it is my girlfriend wants you to do to satisfy her, okay? Starting with that kiss. Carte blanche, sky's your limit!" he then placed a hand on Yeosang's right shoulder and tilted his head, "Capische?" Just to make things more sexually confusing for Yeosang, Jongho smiled at him, showing off the gums that cleverly hid his perverted agenda.
"I- I- Capische, I guess?" Yeosang answered, kind of getting what Jongho expected off of him but also still in disbelief. "Awesome! Thanks hyung, I owe you this, I'll pay you back when I think of something, okay?" he said before leaving his friend with a pat on the chest and an extra squeeze that made Yeosang's eyes bulge out (and almost made him let out a sound but in fear of sounding like a car being honked, Yeosang somehow managed to keep the sound in. Things happened so fast all at once and it made him slightly dizzy. It was only 7 am and so many things already happened. Part of him thought that he was imagining things and that maybe he was still asleep and dreaming but he didn't even know where to justify himself dreaming about kissing his friend.
"Hey Sangie, what are you doing up so early?"
Yeosang snapped his focus back to reality at the sound of your voice but the blush returned to his cheeks when he saw you oh so casually walking your adorable self out of your boyfriend's room and trudging to sit down on one of the stools, right where your boyfriend had just set which effectively set his mind drifting to what had just happened.
"H-hey (y/n), morning! What are you doing up at 7 am?" he asked with nerves thickly laced in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows and checked the clock on your phone before showing him the screen, "Sangie, it's 8.24," you pointed out. Yeosang had stood alone in the kitchen, so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't even realized that an hour had passed and that time had kept on going while he was making out with your boyfriend in the kitchen. So he turned his back on you after saying a simple 'oh', making it seem like he wasn't flustered by pouring you a cup of coffee before setting it in front of you and heading towards the couch to enjoy his now cold coffee.
For a moment, both you and he were silent, neither of you was sharing anything and just enjoying the silence and calmness of the atmosphere. Even when you moved to the couch when Yeosang turned the TV on, neither of you was conversing over anything substantial.
Well, until you brought up your boyfriend.
"Did Jongho say anything before he left this morning?"'
It was almost comical how Yeosang snapped his head in your direction and blinked twice. "I'm not quite sure but I think he mentioned Cate Blanchett?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer, "The lady who played Thor's older sister?" "Yes?" "You sound unsure..." you pointed out, crossing your arms on your chest and turning to look at him fully, "Tell me what Jongho told you and I know he told you something," you pressed.
Now Yeosang found himself between a hard and awkward place. The hard place is between his legs and the awkward place is the position of having to tell you that your boyfriend had practically told him to service you, who is his secret crush, should you request for him to. So he kept stammering, trying to find a way to tell you what he needed to tell you while you stared at him, making him even more nervous than he already was.
"I- I- Well, you see,"
Yeosang sat up straighter and shuffled closer to you, prompting you to do the same.
"W- we- I, Jongho and I, he-"
God, he wasn't even this nervous at his audition and frankly it was starting to annoy you.
"Just spit it out!"
"Fuck it,"
Before you know it, Yeosang pressed his lips on yours, his body no longer at the end of the couch but hovering above you with arms caging your head. The impact caused you to let out a sound of surprise as you were not expecting Yeosang to jump on you like that. There was a nagging voice in the back of your head that was screaming for you to push him away but there was another voice that spoke louder than the former voice. That voice belonged to your boyfriend and it came from the memory you had from earlier in the morning when he woke you up to tell you that he felt bad for disappointing you for the past four days and he was going to make it up to you. Then your brain tried to connect that memory with the text message your boyfriend sent to you, stating that his apology gift has been set up and you can claim it from Yeosang. Was this it?
"Jongho," Yeosang panted as he shifted his lips from yours down to your chin and jaw, "Left you a kiss," your eyes rolled back when he took your earlobe between his teeth and started nibbling, "With me, and he wanted me to deliver it for you," he finished before reconnecting your lips once again. You moaned into his mouth when he slipped his tongue and allowed your own to battle his for dominance.
The kiss was electrifying, breath-taking, and cunt clenching. You couldn't help but spread your legs wider so Yeosang could push your body completely flat on the couch. At this point, his crotch made in contact with yours and you could feel from your short sleeping shorts and his own sweatpants that he was long and hard. Another moan was sent into his mouth and the feeling of vibration made Yeosang grind his crotch onto you, taking it as the perfect moment to let you know the other part of the message.
"A-also," you whined when Yeosang pulled away slightly, resting his forehead on yours, "Jongho wanted me to... Satisfy all of your needs, however you want, wherever you want."
Looking into his eyes, you saw how his pupils were blown and the flush on his face made your heart burn slightly, realizing that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him at that moment. You were not sure if it was because of how needy you were from being denied sex for almost a week or if your teeny tiny crush on your boyfriend's friend was forced to bloom due to the circumstances. Of course, the circumstances are the fact that your boyfriend had allowed his friend to kiss and fuck you should you want to.
"So, Jongho told you to just kiss me or did he specify that you had to kiss me like that?" you teased, starting to relax and opening yourself up for Yeosang who had dropped his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. "He... Left me a kiss but what I gave you is partially from him but mostly from me," he muttered before he dove down to attach his lips to your neck. As he began sucking the sensitive skin, your body reacted automatically to him, your hands curled on the base strands of his hair as your heels hooked on the backs of thighs, allowing his crotch to press closer to yours. "Fuck, is this your way of telling me that you've been wanting to fuck me?" you moaned when his teeth grazed against your jugular, causing your cunt to clench and your spine to tingle. At that point, you were sure that you were soaked but you couldn't be too sure because the warmth pressing on your crotch could Yeosang's body warmth. "No, this is me telling you I didn't like to see you so disappointed because Jongho, your boyfriend, has been denying you sex so I want to help you feel better." As he spoke, you felt his hands creep up to the waistband of your shorts and your breath hitched in both anticipation and excitement, wanting to see just how much you both could go with the fact that you've already gotten your boyfriend's approval in the bag. Toying with the band whilst simultaneously teasing the skin underneath, Yeosang looked up at you with eyes full of hope and desire, "Can I help you feel better?"
It didn't take you long to nod, giving him the confirmation to proceed which he happily obliged by pulling your bottoms so hard he ripped your panties slightly. Yeosang misunderstood the widening of your eyes as a bad thing and he immediately cringed, apologizing profusely as he told you he felt bad and that he would buy you a new pair. So it surprised him when you pulled his face up and hungrily kissed him. "That was so hot, Yeosang, I'm totally okay with that," you said breathlessly, starting to grind your now bare cunt onto his crotch, delighting yourself at the feeling of something hard pushing back against your needy clit. "Jongho has been the only person to be able to do that and fuck did he make such a good decision entrusting you," you whimpered, pulling on Yeosang's bottom lip needily.
Hearing the way you talked about him made Yeosang's heart soar and he suddenly felt the need to show you just how much exactly he had been thinking about you and pleasing you. Confidently, Yeosang pressed two of his fingers against your pussy, effectively trapping your clit between his two digits. His eyes never left your face, enjoying the ecstasy-ridden look on your face as you threw your head back whilst a high-pitched gasp escaped your lips. Wanting to see that expression again, Yeosang began massaging your clit between his two fingers whilst adding more stimulation by moving his fingers up and down. The pleasure was starting to build in you slowly but surely, adding the fact that it was Yesoang who was giving you pleasure and your mind was sent to a pleasure-induced haze. Had it not been for Yeosang's body between your legs, you would have successfully clamped your legs shut.
A shaky breath left Yeosang's lips when he noticed you reacting positively towards his ministration. To the people who would not understand, they would say Yeosang was weird for reading into your reaction so much but how can Yeosang start to describe how much he loved seeing the way your hips rolled onto his hands? Seeing you seeking more of his touch was a whole other level of satisfaction that Yeosang never even knew existed until he saw it with his own eyes. Between your face and glistening cunt, Yeosang couldn't choose which part he liked best. Then again, he had yet to have the chance to feel his aching cock nesting inside your core so he'd have to reserve his decision for after you came on him.
The dynamic of your expression was beyond anything Yeosang could explain because once his fingers slipped inside you, your face contorted to showcase even more of your ecstasy. "You like that, princess?" Yeosang teased as he curled his fingers inside you, caressing the sensitive walls ever so gently that caused your cunt to leak more arousal and your body to shake from the pleasure. "Fuck yes, I do! Jongho, God bless his physique, is chunky and big but so is his fingers but you, Yeosang- Fuck! You and your damn long fingers are reaching so deep inside me- fuck!" you whined, hips rising as Yeosang's finger pulled all the way out only to slam them back in, revelling in how slick you were when they felt your juices staining his palm. "Long, huh? So... Why do you call me a beefcake?" Yeosang teased, lowering himself closer to your cunt which surprisingly made you a bit shy as seen from the way you tried to close your legs. Of course, Yeosang wouldn't let that happen so he used his upper body strength and directed it to his palms, forcing your legs to stay open and not even caring that your stream of slick was trickling down on the couch. "Excuse you, Yeosang, you're not just a beefcake, you're MY beefcake raccoon," you scoffed as you maintained eye contact with Yeosang in faux confidence, oblivious that your stance was being betrayed by your quivering pupils and blush. "Yours, huh? Is that what I am?" Yeosang tried to bite back the grin on his lips as best he could but it was futile as he couldn't even hide the way his hips grind onto your shin when he heard you referring to him as yours. "I don't know about you but fuck, I love the sound of that," he said shakily before diving down to lick a fat stripe from your drenched hole up to nibble on your clit.
That was the last straw. The teasing, the sexual frustration, and seeing Yeosang between your legs had fucked up your brain so much that all you wanted was him.
Sitting up slightly, you somehow managed to pull Yeosang up by the collar of his shirt and push him so he was the one on his back. The frantic movement of your hands pulling Yeosang's sweatpants and underwear paired with the manic, almost crazed look on your face was absolutely thrilling. "I need you inside me Yeosang, please, I want you to fill me up with cock and cum so bad, I need it now!" you whimpered, pussy drenching the fabric of his thigh so embarrassingly bad that it caused Yeosang's cock to twitch as it was released from its confines.
"Use me then, after all, that's why I'm here."
It was the last confirmation you need before you all too easily slip his cock inside of your cunt. For a moment, the both of you only revelled at the feeling of each other for the first time. Yesoang was enjoying how warm you were and how much he liked the sharp contrast between the cool air and your warm core, the sudden change forced the air to be knocked out of his lungs and his eyes to roll to the back of his head. You, on the other hand, were struggling with the fact that Yeosang was reaching inside you so deep that your legs were starting to shake. As crude as it seemed, your immediate reaction was to notice the difference between him and Jongho. It wasn't like you were ranking or making a pros and cons list in your head, you were just noticing how different they pleasured you. Jongho was definitely shorter but girthier, it was always a struggle to take him in as he filled you up almost immediately and even once you got used to the feeling of fullness, you still struggled to move your own body so usually, Jongho would do the work. But Yeosang, he was slimmer but definitely longer, something you didn't take into consideration on the first impact as once he was sheathed inside of you completely, you felt his tip kissing your cervix and it was a new feeling that you had yet to be accustomed to. Whether it was due to his size or the pool you had created down there, you found yourself able to move on your own a lot easier and that made your brain go fuzzy.
Once you both got used to the novelty of feeling each other so intimately, you began fucking yourself on Yeosang's cock. Right off the bat, you were moving so vigorously and Yeosang could only stare with a slacked jaw. "Fuck, Yeosang your cock is hitting me so deep!" you whined, throwing your head back from the feeling and clenching down on him. Yeosang never had much of a comparison material as he was never one to seek out physical relations so often. But even then he knew that the level of pleasure he was experiencing was only achievable because he was getting it from you. Yeosang had to grip your hips to ground him back to reality because he was sure that if he hadn't, he would've definitely thought that he was dreaming. But the feeling of you grounding yourself on top of him was surely something his brain couldn't manipulate no matter how much he tried. And when you changed you changed your position, his brain went haywire. You initially had your knees on either side of his hips and the sight of you rubbing your needy cunt on him was something he could never forget. But then you paused to prop your legs by bending your knees and leaning back with your hands on his muscular thighs. The feeling of Yeosang's flexing muscles beneath your fingers honestly made your cunt clench and weep slightly and Yeosang couldn't help but take note of it.
The very moment you got settled in your new position, you immediately started bouncing yourself on top of Yeosang, impaling yourself multiple times on his cock. If your rhythm was vigorous before, this was... Maniacal. You were jackhammering yourself like a crazed person trying to seek relief. As sick as it was, for some reason, Yeosang loved the way you were basically using his cock for your own release as if he was a toy that you oh so graciously choose to relieve the building ache and need from being denied by your own boyfriend. Your stamina was proof of your desperate need to get sexual release and the way you showcased it could only be described by him as an art performance. "Shit, you're so hot," Yeosang hissed on a particular snap of your hips, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before his right hand travelled up to your (Jongho's) shirt and grabbing the bottom as he pulled them up to reveal your torso, "Bite this for me please, baby, I wanna see your body, I NEED to see your body," he whimpered, his finger caressing your chin as he tuck the bottom part of your shirt between your teeth. You bit back a grin when he called you baby, feeling giddy all of a sudden but you tried to play it cool. He let out a shuddered breath when he noticed you weren't wearing any bra and frankly, he couldn't help but think about how lucky Jongho was to be able to feel you pressing up to him every night if he wanted to. You moaned and clenched down on him, "Fuck, I didn't peg you for a tits man, Yeosang," you teased but took a moment to tweak your left nipple, "Do you like my tits?" you asked, purposefully moaning and rolling your hips. "No," he huffed as he placed his right hand on your crotch, thumb pressed on your clit which caused you to jolt slightly "I like you," he smirked cheekily.
The confession was rather surprising but you noticed it made your stomach to flutter. Egged by his profession, you started fucking yourself on Yeosang's cock again, this time, the stimulation from his thumb on your clit made your movements harsher but messier. Neither of you could speak clearly, not that you wanted to, you were enjoying the sounds Yeosang was making and he was in a trance as he stared at the way your pussy was swallowing his cock whole. "Greedy baby," he hissed, finally finding the ability to snap his hips back to meet yours, "Taking my cock so good, making sure I'd remember your pussy always." The impact from his hips successfully made your footing falter as you found your right leg slipping and your body tumbling forward, your bare chest met Yeosang's clothed one.
"Fuck me, you got some talented hips there," you giggled, immediately adjusting your thrusts to the new position and enjoying the friction of his shirt on your tits. Moaning, Yeosang held you tight with one arm as the one that was on your clit moved to his face, "Nothing you couldn't escape from your beefcake raccoon, right?" he smirked while licking your arousal clean from his fingers.
With a sharp exhale from you, you planted your lips back onto him, tasting yourself on his tongue before moving your hips even faster. You were thankful that your boyfriend had forced you to ride his thighs so much that you had somehow gained the core strength to ride Yeosang like a champion. "Y-Yeosang, fuck- I'm close!" you whimpered against his mouth, your movements getting sloppy as the tension in your cunt increased, now trying its best to reach climax. Yeosang nodded at your admission, hands moving to hold you by your thighs so that you would still be wide open for him. "I'll make you cum, (y/n), don't worry," he pecked your lips before dropping his forehead on your shoulder, "I'll make sure you're satisfied."
Your hands found purchase on the armrest behind Yeosang and on his shoulder, trying to hold onto your sanity that was being torn apart by each thrust Yeosang delivered. Your head fell slack and your eyebrows furrowed as you felt your climax at the tip of your tongue. Yeosang was trying his best to get you to cum and with the way your walls were hugging him in a vice, he knew it wouldn't take long to push you over the edge. "Y-yeosang!" you whined, your hips now stilling as you reached your climax with a shake of your body from how intense it felt. Yeosang held your legs open for him and his hips never stopped, allowing you to ride out your high while also trying to reach his own.
Though you were induced into a pleasure state, you were still thinking about Yeosang and fuck if there was not one thing in your mind.
"In me, Yeosang, finish in me! I need to be filled!" You managed out, practically begging to be stuffed as how your boyfriend usually would. Though it was Yeosang fucking you, you couldn't help but let the thought of both he and Jongho filling you up with their cum flash through. The mere thought sent shivers down your spine and your hips to suddenly roll.
Yeosang was trying his best to not lose control because Jongho hadn't said anything about allowing him to cum inside you. "A-are you su-re, (y/n)? I can just- fuck, I can just jerk myself off," he assured you. But you whined and started peppering kisses along his jawline, "Please fill me up, Yeosang, you said you- ah! You had to please me, right?" you pouted.
A grunt rumbled through Yeosang's chest and without much complaint, he began thrusting into you in shorter but more precise movements. The overstimulation was trying to get you but you tried your best to hold on by distracting yourself. Your left hand found purchase on Yeosang's right peck and your fingers automatically squeeze the soft flesh and your fingers toy the stiff peaks with each movement.
As it turns out, that seemed to set off Yeosang because suddenly he held your body flush against him and you felt his cum filling you up in spurts as his cock twitched inside you. The sensation made you let out a low hum and your head rolled to nest on the crook of Yeosang's neck.
For a moment, you both could only lay there, resting on each other as you tried to catch your breath. Your haze was dwindling down into a daydream and your body was adjusting so you could rest after the session you just had. Though you had Yeosang under you, you couldn't help but think of your boyfriend and how after this, you're going to need to thank him. But when Yeosang readjusted his position so that his head was resting against the armrest and your head was on his pecks, your thoughts shifted. You propped your arms on Yeosang's chest and your chin on them, smiling up at him, "What got you grinning?" Yeosang asked but he was returning your smile with his. You shrugged, "Not sure, maybe it was post-orgasm bliss," and you wanted to add that it could also be the fact that he had just confessed that he liked you in the middle of sex but you didn't want to make things awkward so you kept that little jewel to yourself.
"So," Yeosang cleared his throat, "Are you feeling happy and satisfied now?" he asked, suddenly remembering the task his friend had given him. You pursed your lips, momentarily thinking of an answer before a mischievous glint past your eyes. "I think... Not quite," you replied, your legs suddenly caging Yeosang's hips which effectively rubbed his softened cock the right way as seen from the way it was starting to twitch back to life. Taking the hint, Yeosang's tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip in hunger.
"Well, I did promise your boyfriend that I would do anything to make you happy, didn't I? We'll just have to keep doing it until you're completely... Satisfied."
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@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet
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ad0rechuu · 3 months
Text
FROM STORM TO SUNRISE. ━━ JYH & SMG
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prompts / plot. ━━━━━ you and your boyfriend yunho wake up to find your other boyfriend mingi no where to be found
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part of the secret santa event. ━━━━━ fem! foreigner!reader x boyfriends! jeong yunho & song mingi , domestic fluff / slight angst (?) / an attempt at humor / soulmate au , staring: yn, yunho, mingi, mrs yang (oc) & an unnamed baker + cashier , tw: mentions of food, metaphorical storms and tornadoes and yn is basically panicking most of the time , wc: 1421 , notes: no pronouns used but fem reader + foreigner part not mentioned and yunho & mingi aren’t soulmates but this is all because of the prequel, also i imagined the town from hometown cha cha cha for this fic !
[ to @justhere4kpop aka nadia . . . ] happy holidays (and merry christmas if you celebrate) nadia! i was your secret santa, did you have any idea? either way i have to start by apologizing i was planning a much larger fic but than a bunch of things in my personal life came crashing down so i decided to continue writing the other fic (the prequel to this one) later which means you will get two gifts ! i know the writing is terrible with this one but if you liked this someone how it’s a nice surprise for both of us! i hope you have a wonderful day and i love you mwah <3
[ listening to . . . ] Dreamy Day by Ateez
masterlist | credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33
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WARM RAYS OF SUNSHINE SHONE GENTLY THROUGH THE LARGE WINDOW, ALLOWING YOU TO WAKE UP IN PEACE.
You slowly opened your eyes while you stretched your arms up from underneath the blankets, a smile making its way onto your face as you felt the arm draped over your stomach move you closer in his tight grip.
Turning, you met your boyfriend’s squinting eyes. Clearly, he'd just woken up too. He dropped his head in the crook of your neck and placed a kiss underneath your shirt on your bare shoulder— a silent good morning.
You'd just woken up and you already felt giddy. You moved your hand to the mattress next to you, searching for your other boyfriend’s warm body.
Your eyes opened fully, head snapping to his usual side of the bed when you realize he wasn't there. A small storm of worry brewed in your chest as you nudged your present partner, who seemed close to going back to dreamland.
He whined a bit and it took every bone in your body not to coo at him. You managed to get over your cuteness aggression enough to ask.
“Yunho, honey, where is Mingi?”
He was the early bird in your relationship after all. If anyone would know, it would be Yunho.
To your surprise, he didn't.
“I don’t know? Maybe in the kitchen? Bathroom?” He slurred, clearly not feeling the same sense of urgency as you yet.
“M’kay. I’m gonna look for Mingi. I’ll be right back.” You ruffled his already messy hair before removing yourself from his comfortable grip. The movement only caused more whining from the sleepy giant.
Yunho heard you make your way through the apartment. Your bare feet making a rhythm of soft steps on the linoleum floor, and your groggy but comforting morning voice called out Mingi’s name over and over again.
Your voice got more and more nervous with each call of his name ringing out with no response.
When you walked back into the bedroom, Yunho was sitting cross-legged on the bed with his phone in his hands. He gave you a worried look, the gravity of the situation finally catching up with him.
“Nothing?” He asked.
You fell back on the bed with a sigh as you shook your head no, racking your brain for where your boyfriend could possibly be at nine in the morning on the weekend. You felt Yunho reach over and gently push some hair out your face in an attempt to calm you down.
“I tried texting him but I got no answer either.”
Just as you were about to respond, a sharp feeling washed over you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.
You knew what that feeling meant. It only happened when your soulmate was experiencing a strong emotion. It could range from heartbreaking sadness to mind boggling happiness to excruciating pain.
You jumped up, clutching the arm that has Mingi’s soulmate mark on it. Your eyes met Yunho's.
“I think Mingi is in trouble!”
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SADLY, A SOULMATE BOND did not include a GPS. At least, that was not the kind you were blessed with. That would have saved you the trouble of walking aimlessly through the town in your pajamas and winter coats.
Due to Yunho not being Mingi’s soulmate and your soulmate mark being basically sharing skin with Mingi, you were no further than when you left the house half an hour ago.
Yunho wrapped his arm around your shoulders, rubbing it in an attempt to shield you from the cold morning weather on the island. It was a sweet gesture. The growing panic heated your cheeks more then enough, but you appreciated the comfort of it nonetheless.
He stopped his brisk pace for a second and looked at you like a lightbulb went off in his head.
“Have you tried writing to him?” He asked.
You responded immediately by looking through your pockets for a pen or a marker, or anything that could stain your skin, but to no avail.
Yunho had the same luck. But he pointed you to the closest store, and without any words needed, the two of you rushed into the building, probably giving the poor cashier a heart attack.
“Excuse me, do you have a pen or something I could borrow? It’s an emergency!” You panted as her face contorted in confusion. She reached over next to her and handed you a pen anyway.
Before you could, Yunho quickly but gently raised your sleeve up, baring your arm for you. Despite the pressure, it made you want to giggle like a school girl. You kept your lovey-dovey feelings to yourself and began to write.
‘Song Mingi, where the hell are you?’
Normally, whenever you’d write something on your body and vice versa (left side for Mingi, and right for Yunho), the receiving party could felt a tingling sensation even before reading the message. You hoped with all your being that Mingi received that sensation right then too.
After staring at your arm for five minutes, you began to feel your heart speed up even more when you heard Yunho gasp from next to you as the letters you previously wrote where erased.
Finally, you felt the storm that had turned into a tornado in your heart calm down a bit, and the letters you wrote were replaced by messy yet familiar handwriting revealing Mingi’s location.
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THERE HE WAS.
Through the display window of the bakery, you and Yunho saw him.
Mingi clutched a colorful box while one of the village elders, Mrs. Yang, pulled on the other side. Both seemed to be in an intense battle as the baker behind the counter watched the two awkwardly.
The closer you got, the more it hit you; the sharp feeling you felt wasn’t sadness, anger, or pain— it was his sheer competitiveness.
Yunho held the door open and both of you stepped through with the sound of the bell signaling your arrival. The baker gave you a friendly nod, but neither Mingi nor Mrs. Yang seemed to notice you, still too fixated on arguing over what you now saw was a beautifully decorated cake.
“Song Mingi!” Your voice resounded through the store as you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.
The man in question immediately forgot about the cake and trailed towards you like a puppy. He looked at you and Yunho with big eyes full of confusion.
“Baby, what're you doing here? Gosh, both of you are wearing pajamas, aren’t you way too cold?” He asked, cradling your face in his hands.
He tossed Yunho a judgmental look as if suspecting he was the reason you guys were here.
The older man flicked Mingi’s forehead before shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like that. None of this would’ve happened if you knew how to answer your phone or leave a note.”
“Yeah, we were so worried something happened.” You grabbed his attention along with one of the hands that was still on your cheek.
Mingi looked down sheepishly, his cheeks slightly reddening.
“Ah, I’m sorry. You said you were craving cake yesterday so I wanted to surprise you and Yunho with cake as breakfast in bed.” He pointed behind him, doing a double take as the cake he was just ready to risk his life for was long gone.
A heartbroken expression made its way onto his face. He looked at the baker, who only chuckled.
“I’m sorry, man. You snooze you lose.”
The baker pointed outside, where Mrs. Yang was gleefully walking away from the bakery with the precious cake in her hands.
Yunho let out a boisterous laugh, clutching his stomach as you patted the pouting boy’s cheek. Though that wasn't to say you weren't trying to reign your own laughter in as well.
“It’s okay, Ming! It’s the thought that counts.”
After a couple more minutes of comforting Mingi about his lost battle, he finally agreed to get another sweet pastry (which Yunho demanded to choose as compensation for everything).
As you three walked out of the store, you didn’t feel a storm or a tornado brewing in your chest. You felt a lovely calm wash over you as both of your boyfriends linked hands with you, one carrying the box with a well-deserved red velvet cake in it on the way home.
All the worry was replaced in no time with a warm domestic sunrise growing in your heart, and you knew exactly who were to blame for that.
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet
notes. again i did the gen tag list on hopes and prayers so i hope i have it right, please tell me if u want to be removed or added
taglist. @yuyusuyu @seonghwaddict @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @aestheticsluut @mrowwww @i-luvsang @cybrsan @kodzumo @gyumibear @nyukyujs @a1sh1teruu | send me an ask to be added to the general obey me or kpop taglist (or both ofc)
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pinkcherryblossom18 · 4 months
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hi love!! first and foremost, i am SO glad you, your friends, and family are safe after the tornado! i have some friends who experienced it as well and i can’t imagine.
if you are still taking requests currently, I would LOVE another continuation of your vultures drabbles with the reader x finnick. you write him SO well and the angst is just so good!!! no worries if not though! <3
The Vultures Swoop
Summary: The 75th Hunger Games announcement leaves you all in different stages of grief. 
Thank you for the request, sugar.
TW: Mention of the Hunger Games, Anger, Throwing things, Angst, Crying, Throwing up, Suicidal idelation and attempt , and Panic attack. 
Word Count: 739
Like all storms, this one starts slow. 
It starts with a voice that haunts you and a man that you constantly see in your nightmares. He discusses something else that haunts you daily and he says it with a bright smile. Then he says what the third Quarter Quell will be. 
All of you freeze. 
Annie breaks into sobs and Titus comforts her while Ollie just stares blankly into the screen, like he’s expecting something to change. Mags only sits there, she does nothing but sits there. 
Beside you Finnick freezes, the hand in yours stills and through his hand, you can feel his blood turn to ice. He doesn’t blink or cry, nothing happens. 
It takes only seconds for something to pop in you. 
It’s ugly, a stained yellow with rotted green all around it. Anger covers it in crimson red and you can only feel it within the very marrow of your bones. 
You had never been good with grief, even before the games. 
But this grief, this ugly infectious grief grows on you like vines on a tree. 
You stand up, you can’t sit. Not right now, not with everything that you had hid being brought to the top with such ease. You pace and pace and Finnick still sits there and Titus is still with Annie and Ollie is still staring and Mags only sits there. 
The vase on the table shakes every time you pass by it, your angry footsteps disturbing the only semblance of peace in this house. 
This house, you have hated this house since you first moved in. Since your family had left you behind and trampled this house with their fake apologetic words and nonsense sorrys. It made no sense to you then and it still doesn’t now. 
The vase keeps rocking on the table and you hate it. You hate it with every fiber of your being and when you grab it, it has the same weight of those knives that you had carried in the arena. 
The glass shatters against the wall and a scream erupts but can barely hear it over the sound of your own heart beat. The pounding of the organ in your chest and the anger that boils your blood and brings tears to your eyes. 
It’s too much. 
It’s all too much. 
Your stomach churns and you rush outside, barely making it as you empty all of the contents of your stomach. Strong hands grip your waist and you scream. 
All for nothing. 
It was all for nothing. 
Those hands don’t let go and you bring back your elbow and drop to the ground, ragdolling your body. 
Chirping, chirping, chirping. 
Looming, looming, looming. 
Too much, too much. 
Nothing. It was all for nothing. 
Death, blood and the weight of the knives come back to you. 
It all comes back. 
You—you can’t do it. You can’t go back. 
And Finnick—oh Finnick! You didn’t think about him. Titus was too old and Ollie couldn’t handle it. So he would have to go. 
Annie couldn’t go either, she would be the first to go, you were sure. Mags couldn’t go either, she would be dead quickly as well. 
You it had to be you. 
Finnick and you. You and Finnick. 
Death—that had to be the answer. It had to be, it had to be.
Your hands start to race for your wrists, competing in who could get to your veins first. 
At the first draw of blood, hands grab your own and you scream again. Wrenching and pulling against the hands that have your own captive, you don’t hear anything but your own screaming, pleading and crying. 
A hand grabs the back of your head and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. It’s sturdy and strong, underneath the fabric you can feel the echoes of healed scars. A voice whispers to you, saying things that you don’t understand but calm you all the same. 
In between broken sobs and streaming, hot tears that leave your head in shambles you hear Finnicks voice. “We'll be fine,” he says. “Nothing will happen to you. I promise.”
His voice is firm and determined but you don’t believe his words.
“I wish we were dead!” You cry. 
Finnick only holds you closer. “We’re not,” he reassures, scratching his nails against the back of your head soothingly. “We’re not dead. And we won’t be.”
But we will, you think. We all will.
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brighter-by-the-daly · 4 months
Text
Millie Bright x Reader
Part One: Lover’s Auction
AN: This turned out so long I’ve decided to turn it into a series.
Prompt: Billionaire reader meets Millie though a charity event, reader bids on one of Millie’s shirts, Millie then asks reader out for drinks (reader spoils Millie) ~ @kayls93
TW: this story is based around reader’s mum who passed away (past tense). No mentions of how/why she died to minimise triggers.
It was the night of the auction your dad had spent all year planning, it was to raise money for his company’s charity in honour of his late wife and your mother. He often hosts big auction nights to celebrate the woman you both loved and lost and this year it’s the 20th anniversary which coincides with your 27th birthday. All your life you’ve only known him to be a manager of some big company in London, it’s meant you’ve led a very comfortable life but never completely understood his job role. You did know that he was very well connected and treats his staff like family - from the moment you were born you were adored by all his colleagues, you made them all aunties and uncles. He would often bring you into work with him as a little girl and enjoyed watching you crawl around his office, dreaming of the day he would hand his empire over to you. After your mum’s death he bought you in everyday for months, he needed somewhere to take his mind off things and knew you loved being fussed over by your extended family. They would sit with you to do homework and talk about the friendship drama at school while your dad worked - he was never short of babysitters!
Your dad is the only man you have ever loved, he knew you would come out years before you actually did. He held you when the tears didn’t stop after your first break up, he attends Pride with you every year and always texts that he loves you at the end of every day. Since your mum passed away he had become your best friend and no other woman has entered his life except for you. Whenever he was invited to work parties or social events you were always his plus one and would parade you around the dance floor standing on his feet as he tapped along to the music. In his eyes, you were a princess and nobody would ever be good enough for you.. or so he thought.
Your dad had been running around all week putting the final touches into place, trying to rally up promo and extra giveaways to make this year’s auction extra special that he hadn’t noticed how down you had been lately. The anniversary was a lot to bare for you - hating the world that your mum wasn’t here to spend your adult days with, often wondering if she would have been your best friend and sad that you’ve missed out on growing up with her. Dad was rushing around the house like a tornado when he stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on the sofa under a blanket. “Honey, why aren’t you dressed?” his tone soft and gentle as he ushered over to join you. “I don’t feel like it dad” you tried to brush off the emotion held in your throat as you stood up to correct his tie. You didn’t know that he knew exactly how tie them himself but your simple act reminds him of the mornings he would kiss your mum goodbye after she corrected it for him. Straightening it down his chest you tiptoed to kiss his cheek “you can buy anything you want?” he said with a cheeky smile as he waved his credit card in the air which was enough to get your attention. Holding out your hand to shake a deal with him you rushed upstairs to your bedroom to see a new dress hanging on your wardrobe, smiling at how dad had got the perfect colour to match your skin tone. Over the years he has had to be your dad and mum; learning how to plait your hair to teaching you why periods happen and buying your first bra, he was practically one of the girls by now. You slipped on your heels and delicately curled your hair but before leaving you snuck into dad’s room, fumbling around on your hands and knees trying to reach under the bed until you felt a velvet box. Blowing the dust off, your fingers traced your mother’s name etched into the woodwork, clicking the latch open the black and white photo of your family hidden inside made you choke up as you chose her favourite necklace to pair with your outfit. You heard dad calling as you straightened your dress in the mirror then made your way down the stairs like you were on your way to prom. Your dad was still rushing around the house to get ready when he suddenly came to a halt at your entrance. “Darling” his voice whimpered as he spotted the pearls around your neck, holding out his arms for one of his famous bear hugs.
Entering the formal occasion you were quickly swamped by your dad’s colleagues, greeting them as Aunty This and Uncle That they gawped at how grown up you looked. Pawing over the “when did you get so big” and pulling at your cheeks like they haven’t seen you in years when you only saw them last week. You instantly felt the glow of love they shared and was so glad you’d came as they showered you both in affection. When the group dispersed you immediately turned to dad with a puppy dog look in your eyes and your hand spread waiting for him to offer up his credit card, pecking him on the cheek when he did and making a beeline for the bar. “My darling (y/n)” the bar lady called as you approached, “hi Aunt Sally” - yet another one of your make believe family. “I’m going to need some ID my dear” the dark skinned woman joked with you. “Aunty, you know I’m nearly 30!” batting your eyelashes at her. “My dear, don’t be wishing your life away, you’re miles off that number yet” her thick Jamaican accent rolled off her tongue like honey. Sipping on your cocktail she asked if you’d had a chance to view what’s on offer yet, you said the bar was your first pit stop as she started listing off some things that she had spotted earlier. Glancing around the room at all the people from your bar stall your attention was caught when you heard her say “vaginal rejuvenation” making you scoff just as you took a big gulp of your drink, trying not to choke the liquid dribbled out of your mouth and back into the glass in the most unladylike manner. Trying to hold your giggles inside she passed you another drink when and said you don’t think your dad would appreciate that purchase on his card!
After a few cocktails and catching up with Sally you wandered over to the rows of items and experiences up for auction. Running your finger along the table your eyes scanned the placards of descriptions; bungee jump – “no”, flying lessons – “no”, lunch with Harry Kane – “who?”, spa day - “hmm..” scribbling your name and bid down before moving on, personal shopper spree - “yes!” enthusiastically setting a high bid that you anticipated wouldn’t be beaten. Moving to the next row you spotted the vaginal rejuvenation Sally was talking about earlier, snickering to yourself as you wrote down her name and a bid. Looking up you saw dad watching you intently, raising his eyebrow as he caught your gaze when you threw him a sarcastic little wave.. you knew he was watching how many items you were bidding on! You finished scrolling past the next few tables until your eyes landed on a pristine condition football shirt. Your fingers stroked the fabric as your brain flooded with memories of simpler times, days where mum would drive you miles to games and sit for hours in all weathers watching you play. Remembering how you would purposely tackle as many people as you could to try and get your kit dirtier than the week before, your mother’s groans rang through your mind when it rained knowing she’d have a hard time beating the stains out. It didn’t take her long to get clued up on your antics because she began packing a change of clothes, threatening to tie you to the roof so you wouldn’t sit in her car in your muddy kit. “Are you gonna bid or stare into space with a weird smile all night?” a voice suddenly made you jump out of memory lane. Still stroking the comfort of the fabric with your thumb and forefinger you answered them, “it just brought back some memories, that’s all” upset that your daydream had been interrupted. You didn’t make eye contact or even look towards the person before scurrying off toward the bathrooms to hide the tears that had started to fall. Hearing your heels click audibly across the wooden floor your dad’s eyes looked on in worry as he could tell something had upset you.
Locking yourself in a stall you tried to dab your eyes without ruining your make up and took some deep breaths to compose yourself before making your way back to the event. Just like when you walked in a few hours earlier you went straight back to the bar, “my sweet child, are you okay?” Sally greeted you with a cocktail she’d already made when she saw you leave the room. “I bid on that treatment you wanted” you laughed, trying to move past what had just happened. Watching Aunty Sal gasp in disbelief but her face turning from embarrassment to amusement made your heart happy as she moved away to serve someone else. Hearing the voice of the person ordering was the same as the one who approached you at the bidding table moments earlier your body tensed up again. You looked up to examine them, catching her eyes as she shuffled closer to you, “erm, I didn’t mean to hit a nerve” she said eyes firmly on her drink. “You didn’t, the shirt did. A nice nerve” you reassured before going on to tell the woman about your childhood days on the pitch and all about your mum. She hadn’t realised that this event was for you, your dad had done business with her a few months ago and had asked for a favour, the woman can never say no to charity, so she says! “Why did you stop.. playing football?” she said quietly, wondering whether that was okay to ask. “It hurt too much not seeing mum there” your voice croaked as you tried to hold back the tears again. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” she said, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “No, I want to. It was the only place I felt truly happy and then suddenly… it wasn’t” peering into your drink stirring it anxiously with the straw, you were yet to make eye contact with the woman and she must have noticed. She invited you over to a table that was free where you talked about how you’d have a competition of how muddy you could get your kit and soon you were laughing and smiling over the memories rather than letting the sadness take hold.
You spent the rest of the evening talking to your new friend until your dad announced himself on stage, tapping the microphone as it echoed around the room. “That’s my dad!” you hollered from your seat as all eyes found you and the table full of empty glasses. He started muttering into the microphone as he began to read out the winners - “the vaginal rejuvenation goes to Sally!” Laughing to yourself as you stood up and shouted for the woman who’s been the closest thing to a mum you have had for years as she hid her face behind the cocktail shakers in her hands. Dad listed off the final prizes until he reached the last one - “the signed England shirt goes to my beautiful daughter (y/n)” Double taking to check what you heard was correct, your face turned to confusion.. you didn’t bid on it? “I know how much you enjoyed football with your mum and I saw your face as you remembered those times earlier, you were smiling and I hope it helps you hold onto the good times” he said as tears welled in his eyes. “Oh dad!” you whined an alcoholic filled ‘aww’ as you run up onto the stage to hug him. His arm pulled you into his side when he thanked everyone for coming. “From both of us, thank you so much for coming out tonight and raising such an incredible amount of money for an outstanding charity that we hold so close to our hearts. We welcome you to stay as long as you wish, to Marla!” “To mum!” raising your glasses into the air as clinks rattled around the room.
Stumbling back to your seat with the shirt in one hand and a drink in the other. you slumped next to the mystery woman who had turned into your company for the evening. “I think you could use some air” she giggled trying to stop all the glasses from clattering as your hip nudged the table. Nodding reluctantly she held out her arm for you to balance on and walked you out to the car park underneath the street lights. Clicking her car keys made the boot of her car rise by itself, “ohhhh fancy!” your voice echoed at the magical car opening before a hand had even been laid on it. “Think fast!” the blonde shouted as a football came flying towards your face. “What the fuck?!” you yelled dropping the shirt to catch the ball at the last possible second. “You’ve still got it! Didn’t you say you were a goalie?” she smiled. “I played everywhere! I did like being in goal but I preferred tackling people, risky business as a goalie!” instinctively dropping the ball to land on your foot as you started keepy uppys, counting 12 until you got distracted by the woman rummaging in her boot for something else. “If you throw another ball at my face you’re gonna get it!” kicking the ball above your head and catching it under your arm. “Fancy a 1v1?” she appeared behind the boot lid wearing a Chelsea shirt… “with a Chelsea fan? My mum would turn in her grave!” you laughed as she asked who you support. “I was raised on our home team, not the big guns!” you continued to poke fun at her but admitted you hadn’t kept up with the growth of the women’s game, you hadn’t watched a match since your mum’s passing and was very out of touch with the sport. “Arms up!” she instructed as she pulled the new shirt over your head, “first to 5?” You objected at first as you were wearing heels until she suggested moving to the grass verge next to the car park and made the trees the goalposts. Kicking your shoes off to cries of cuteness at how short you really were in comparison to her and tying the skirt of your dress into a knot to be able to move more freely. Little did she know how fiercely competitive you are and how surprised you were that you still knew how to play.. amateur maybe, but it felt good with a ball at your feet even though the cold condensation from the grass tickled your toes. Cheering as you scored your first goal in 20 years it lit a fire in your belly as you went in to tackle her, laughing at how you bounced straight off the broad woman leaving you laid on the ground as she scored too.
You didn’t know your dad was watching from the window as she came to lie down next to you. “Look you’ve got your brand new shirt dirty already!” she cried tugging at the grass stained patch on your side. “My mum would be so annoyed!” you laughed as she pulled you onto her chest. “You’d make a good defender yknow!” you suggested to her, eyes fluttering with tiredness as she stroked your hair. “Good job I am then, aih?” she squeezed you a little tighter, making you sit up immediately alert. “Really?” “Yeah… that’s my shirt you’re wearing” she smirked watching you glance down at the crest displaying three lions as the realisation suddenly broke through your drunk mind. “Shut! Up!” your voice irritatingly loud as all the puzzle pieces started falling into place, “you play for England?!” Shrugging at your question she nodded and snickered before adding “and Chelsea!” Your mouth became wider with each admission, “why didn’t you tell me?” you slapped her arm thinking about what you’ve said, especially taking the piss out of her ‘being a fan’ of the London club. “I just did!” her voice turned high pitch as she raised her hands to display innocence. Your head tilted in a confusion as you tried to work her out. Moments of silence passed as your mind ran through everything you’ve talked about since the beginning of the night. “Did my dad set this up?” you questioned her integrity. “No, not at all” she assured you but you were already looking towards the building that the party was continuing in. Spotting your dad at the window with a huge grin on his face and holding a thumbs up to the glass. Mumbling under your breath you clambered to your feet with your hands on your hips to show him you’re very unamused with him playing Cupid. He displayed a “shoo” action with his hands trying to usher you back to the woman who was also now on her feet. “If I knew who you were why would I say what I did at the auction?” she tried to reassure you. Her question changed your demeanour, looking up at the blonde in a way that showed she had a fair point. “I didn’t think I’d have so much fun tonight, I didn’t plan on staying out this long!” she said packing the ball and her shirt back into the boot of her car. “Oh sorry, you probably have a boyfriend to get home to” untying the knot in your dress. “Girlfriend. Annddd.. nope, just the dogs” your eyebrow raised at her admission which she couldn’t see as you were still trying to make yourself presentable again. Grabbing your hand she turned you around so your back was facing her and wrote something on the back of your shirt. Her fingertips grazed down your arms, tightening around your wrists to lift your arms in the air as she slipped your shirt over your head. Pulling it in the right way she laid it over your hands and pointed at the name she’d scribbled above ‘BRIGHT’ on the back. “Millie” you said squinting to read her hand writing and noticing her phone number written inside the number 6. “Yes, Millie.. nice to meet you” she smiled, holding out her hand to shake yours. “(Y/n), it’s been a pleasure” you joked, holding your dress out and dipping into a curtsy, almost losing your balance when she grabbed your arms to keep you upright. Asking to borrow her pen you delicately wrote your number on her arm like a teenager in school, not registering that it was a marker until the last number. Millie had known the whole time but didn’t stop you, she just wondered how she’d explain it to the girls at training tomorrow.
Part Two
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azaliyas · 11 months
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summary : after studying the guitar since you were a kid, you were now ready to start a band and let your music be known to the big public. thanks to an online announcement you posted, you found him as your bandmate.
word count : [ to be added later ]
genre : modern au, fluff.
cw / tw : mentions of drinking.
characters : 6reeze boys.
note : had to change the order because of the way i keep my posts in order, sorry for the inconvenience ^^;
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aether — the keyboardist
if you had to describe aether in one word, it would have been "puppy", always so cheerful and easy-going. it was easy to befriend him after you guys met for the first time for a trial rehearsal and see if you two could work well together. his friendly and kind personality had you, too, smile brightly at him. and that pulled his heartstrings in a way he had never experienced before.
his slender fingers, you were sure of that, were blessed with a talent and a discipline you have seen in such a few people it was more unique than rare. the keyboard really came to life whenever he played, each note an arrow going straight to your fans' hearts. he had this natural charm that draw people to him to watch closer, and staying to have more.
aether was kind with everyone, but with you, he was such a gentleman, always ready to come to your aid even outside your music business. he was your dearest friend, the person you held in high regard, and the same was for him. he couldn't help the fondness in his voice when talking about you, be it with his friends or fans he met in the streets, a special kindness enveloped your name every time it left his lips.
of course, fans were quick to catch up on it and start spreading the "y/n x aether" agenda, heart-shaped eyes looking at every little interaction between you and the blonde guy, be it off stage or, more often, on stage, when his golden eyes were glued on your form, following you around, his voice soft and tender while singing his parts.
ah, but it was such a shame you didn't notice any of this. how wonderful would it have been, dating you, call you his significant other, his lover, the one he oh so tenderly loved and cherished... but that had to wait. he had to make you aware of his feelings in a less direct way first in order to see if you too felt the same way as him. but until then, he was happy even with just holding you close to his chest after another night of successful concerts, sleeping soundly on his lap.
just wait a little longer for him, will you?
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heizou — the dj
you weren't exactly a fan of electronic music or whatever kind they played in nightclubs and similar places, but after meeting heizou, you had a change of heart.
the maroon-haired guy was like a tornado, strong and passionate and unstoppable when his mind was set on something. and that something was forming a duo with you and have your music climbing the charts. he surely was ambitious, but you didn't mind, he got the spirits and that was what was important to you.
with heizou's influence your music grew artistically and in terms of listeners on the major streaming platforms, thanks to his fame as an already well-known dj and a few semi-important collabs he had. from covers to mix-ups to original music, your virtual library grew exponentially. you two featured in many playlists, sometimes even those ai-generated, or the most mainstream ones along with much more famous artists. and you were the center of it.
heizou did whatever was in his power to have you in the spotlight, always talking so fondly of you fans couldn't help it but start shipping you two. and how could they not, when every single damn occasion was as good for him to mention your name.
but you were pretty dense, weren't you? thinking it was just for advertising purposes, his shameless flirting for you, but if he did that only with you, then why weren't you catching on his attempts?
a shame, truly, because you two looked so good together, have it in real life or in the numerous pics of you guys circulating on the internet. but fret not, heizou was confident you would eventually fall for him one day, he could have you in his arms even in a romantic sense, and not only literally, like right now, while he was carrying you in your bedroom after he found you asleep on the couch of your shared apartment.
working late into the night wasn't for you, you know?
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kazuha — the bassist
the first time you met kazuha, the impression he left you was quite strong despite his calm, comforting aura. maybe it was right because of that aura of his, such an opposite to his on-stage self, wild and crazy, a side of him only during concerts you were able to see. his fingers were rough on the bass chords, plucking them with harsh strength to keep up with the exciting and fast music you composed together, going so far he had to wear bandages to avoid hurting his fingers.
off-stage, on the other hand, kazuha usually kept to himself, notebook and pen by his side, writing poetry and lyrics. having him around you was like walking on the clouds, feeling so warm and comfortable. and he felt the same with you, so of course your relationship bloomed outside of music, becoming friends.
the white-haired boy was such a softie he had you cooing over him like most of your fans, although they did so both for him and for the romantic relationship they thought you guys were in. and no one could blame them to think so, with how kazuha seemed to have eyes for you only, or with how he was glued to your hip when on stage, foreheads pressed together while playing, lips inches away with only a microphone stopping him from kissing you — the crowd surely wouldn't have complained.
kazuha didn't hide the bluntness of his feelings, but he never explicitly said he was in love with you either. it was in the loving embrace you were always welcomed in, the gentle touches of his fingers littering on your skin, in the quiet voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear while asleep, hoping to give you pleasant dreams.
one day, kazuha told himself, he would have been able to tell you such words while you were awake, not sleeping clinging to his side, hands around his waist and one of his was in your soft hair.
one day, his muse shall know the truth.
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venti — the singer
although venti wasn't exactly your usual rock singer, he quickly adapted to your style, but so you did to his. this perfect molding brought you two leaning towards a kind of rock music with classical and ballad influences, creating quite the sub-genre per se. and your growing fans seemed to particularly appreciate such fresh and new stuff.
over the years venti grew quite fond of you and viceversa, so much you two became each other's closest friend. your chemistry was something you didn't get to experience every day, and whoever got to know you and him knew that at first glance.
he was a playful and flirty friend, bringing that same behaviour on stage, knowing way too well it had your fans swooning over him — or maybe on you two, since this flirty behaviour of his was mostly directed at you. arm snaking around you, or cheeks pressed together, or foreheads resting on each other, the boy always managed to have contact with you while his sweet voice echoed in the hall along your guitar. touchy, but you didn't mind, that was his persona after all.
or wasn't it?
off stage venti was calmer, but still always seeking your companionship, almost as if you were his cuddly teddy bear. what you didn't know was that it was his way to have you close, to push away those who tried to flirt with you, to satiate the love he had for you.
yes, venti loved you, dearly, deeply, but most of all quietly. he knew you saw him as a friend only, a dear one, but a friend nonetheless. this knowledge had his heart ache, but he was resolute in not letting you know about his feelings, ever. otherwise, he feared he wouldn't have been able to hold you like this, your head in the crook of his neck and his arms around your waist as you slept, ever again.
you were everything, he couldn't possibly let you go.
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wanderer — the drummer
kunikuzushi, known as "scaramouche" (from his previous membership in another band) or "wanderer" (adopted for his solo career), wasn't actually the bandmate you would normally expect. sure, he was one hella good of a drummer and his previous fame helped yours skyrocketing, but except for this he wasn't particularly inclined in dealing with you outside music business.
of course, you weren't expecting to become best friend with the indigo-haired boy, but at least a relationship of close acquaintances was the least, in your opinion. you thought that his "bad boy" persona was just a facade for the fans, but his coldness toward you sometimes had you second guessing.
all of this changed whenever you two were inside the studio or, more often, on the stage. there, kunikuzushi seemed to turn into a totally different person. his deep and raw voice would draw your attention to him, eyes locked together singing at the top of your lungs, music blasting all around you.
what you didn't know, however, was that kuni held such contrasting behaviours toward you for a single, simple, yet stupid reason: he was in love with you. a deep, warming love that swelled in the depths of his heart, away from your knowledge.
loving you inspired him to write those tooth-rooting kind of songs you seemed to like, but they were too obvious regarding your persona to be sang in front of a crowd. he poured his heart in those lyrics, they were personal, for him only — no, not even you.
all the years he spent wearing that stupid "bad boy" mask convinced him he was, indeed, not good enough for a serious relationship so, how could he enter one with you?it was better to leave you alone, but your figure sleeping soundly by his side after another night of concerts, snuggling against him for warmth in that cool night, was giving him a hard time doing so.
you were such a temptation.
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xiao — the guitarist
when posting that announcement for a band member, surely you didn't think you'd meet "alatus", a guitarist with a well-known reputation on the underground scene.
xiao was a guy around your age, not particularly expressive but with an impressive knack for music. all of his emotions and feelings were poured into the lyrics he wrote for your band. yours to write was the melody for his words.
this partnership of yours was quite fruitful as, even with you two leaning more onto the underground scene, the virality of your music earned you guys quite the fame even on the mainstream side. and not only because of the excellent and expressive music you and xiao produced.
many of your fans actually shipped you guys really hard because, according to them, the chemistry between you and xiao was one of a kind, more unique than rare. whenever there was a short video of you two back to back, playing the shit out of your guitars, heads leaning on each other's shoulder as the music took over you, your fans would be squirming in place, giggling and kicking their feet.
you, on the other hand, didn't quite understand their excitement. sure, over the years you and xiao spent together had become friends and got to know each other pretty well, not only to find a chemistry to be able to work together, but also because you really enjoyed having the black-and-teal-haired boy by your side. you considered xiao a dear friend, too dense to notice his eyes softening whenever they were on you.
how could you not notice his eyes sparkling when smiling for you, those tiny but genuine smiles only you could pull out of him? or his thoughtfulness about you even outside work, well behind the care a normal friend would have for you?
he sighed to himself, thinking that, one day, he will confess to you and have you two being a couple even outside the band. but for now he was happy like this, your head resting on his lap, knocked out cold after your usual post-show drinks.
what a lightweight you were.
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