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dreamescapeswriting · 2 years ago

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Stray Kids Reaction || You have a Tattoo(s) and it turns them on [M]

Skz x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

⤜ MINORS DNI! Mentions of sexual acts/descriptions of sexual acts

A/N: Awh you didn’t ask for too much at all my lovely anon, I hope this is okay for you sweetie!! First post back and I’m super nervous

CHAN:

It wasn't your first tattoo but it was the first tattoo in the place that seemed to be driving your boyfriend completely wild at just the first look at it. When you'd told Chan that you were going to get a tattoo he hadn't seemed that bothered by the news, that was until right now as he was staring at you from behind.

"What do you think?" You questioned, slowly turning your head to glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend who appeared to just be staring down at the tattoo in complete silence. Worry began to wash over you as you instantly went to the worst-case scenario and that he hated the tattoo or that something was spelt wrong. It was the lyrics to one of his songs, one that you held close to your heart and Chan knew that which was why his feelings were so conflicted right now.

"Is it spelt wrong?" You quizzed as your voice came out a little shaky, gently lowering your shirt when Chan's hands encased yours, keeping your shirt held up at your lower back.

"It's perfect," He breathed out, his heart hammering rapidly against his chest so much he was afraid it was about to burst right out of his chest. The tattoo was incredible and he almost felt guilty for the fact that instead of being completely and utterly in love with the lyrics he was busy picturing something else.

"So..." You trailed off, waiting for the other pin to drop since it sounded as though there was meant to be a "but" at the end of his sentence,

"I'm just imagining what it's going to look like when I'm fucking you from behind," He admitted, his ears beginning to burn a bright red as he realised he'd blurted the words out loud. Butterflies began to swarm all over your entire body as you thought about what he'd just said,

"Then I guess it better hurry and heal so you can make your imagination come true," You smirked, spinning around in his arms and wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your chest flush with his as he shivered a little.

MINHO:

Minho hadn't shown much interest when you told him that you were going to get a tattoo, in fact, he'd almost completely forgotten about it until you came home wearing a skirt. Not that was something completely un-ordinary for you but something he found odd when watching you from the kitchen. For the last five minutes, you'd been shifting uncomfortably with your legs spread, appearing as though you were trying not to itch your leg.

"Can you pass me an ice pack and a clean tea towel?" You called out to your boyfriend while you sat on the sofa, your feet were up on the coffee table in front of you spread slightly apart. You knew how itchy tattoos could be but for some reason, the one on your inner thigh was the worst itching sensation you'd come to deal with and you knew a cooling pad would help a lot. Minho arched his brow but did as was requested of him, slowly making his way over to you when the reason for the ice became clear, his pants began to grow tighter as he eyed up the ink on your leg.

"What?" You giggled watching in amusement as Minho suddenly sank to his knees in front of you, the sight was funny, to say the least as he sat directly between your legs admiring the inkwork.

"Was this the tattoo you were getting?" His voice barely came out above a whisper as his fingertips gently caressed over the skin of your inner thigh and stared at the design you'd had done.

"Obviously baby," There was a shake to your voice whenever his fingers trailed a little too high on your skin. Minho knew that your thighs were one of your weakest points but he just couldn't help himself, not when it looked this good.

"How long until I can bury my face between your legs?" The comment caught you completely off guard as your skin began to burn at the thought of it all. You squirmed a little on the spot and looked down at your boyfriend who began to kiss your other thigh, biting and nipping on the skin as you let out a small whimper of his name.

"I-It's probably fine to do right now," You admitted, the itching of the tattoo completely fading from your mind as you gave in to the tender kisses on your legs from your boyfriend.

CHANGBIN:

This was supposed to be a surprise for your boyfriend but that was completely thrown out when Changbin walked into the bathroom to find you changing the film that covered the tattoo on your arm. The shop had given you instructions to keep it wrapped for the first four days and after that, you were free to remove it but keep the tattoo moisturised as much as possible to help the healing.

"Haven't you heard of knocking?" You teased Changbin softly as he stared down at your arm, barging into the bathroom while you were in here was nothing new, you really should learn to lock the door. The tattoo was on your upper arm and you knew realistically you wouldn't be able to hide it for long but you thought you could have at least held out until it was healed before revealing it to him.

"You didn't tell me about this," He gasped out, his hands gently holding your arm as he turned it slowly to get a good look at the tattoo. He'd be lying to himself if the sight of you inked up wasn't making all of the blood in his body rush to his cock as he stared at it he wasn't sure what the big deal was, he'd seen tattoos on people a million times before but there was something about it being on you that drove him restless.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," You giggled a little, watching as your boyfriend's eyes continued to drink in the appearance of the ink all over your arm. It wasn't anything huge but it was something you'd been planning to get for a while, something that held very special meaning to both you and Changbin.

"Do you like it at least?" You questioned since he was being deathly silent on the matter it worried you that he thought it was too much or maybe he found it stupid.

"What do you think?" His voice dropped in tone as he nodded down to his sweats, your eyes slowly began to travel down until you saw the tent that he appeared to be pitching. Your throat ran dry as you realised that your boyfriend was hard all because of a simple tattoo.

"A tattoo did that?" You laughed nervously,

"No babe, YOUR tattoo did that," He whispered huskily, his lips slowly finding their way toward your neck as he began to leave sloppy kisses up and down your bare skin nipping and sucking whenever he could.

"Damn, what are you going to do when I get more?" You laughed nervously, letting out a small squeal as he wrapped your left leg around his hip and ground himself against you.

"I guess you'll have to get some more and figure that out yourself," He answered cockily, going back to kissing down your neck while you let out soft whimpers of his name.

HYUNJIN:

Tattoos on you had always driven Hyunjin over the edge, there was just something about them that always turned him on when it came to you. It wasn't as though it was like that for everyone, only you. Even now the small whimpers and whines you would let out whenever Hyunjin let his hands massage the cream into your skin weren't doing his imagination any favours. Ever since you'd come home with your latest addition to your skin, Hyunjin had barely been able to keep his hands to himself, wanting nothing more than to touch you as much as he could. When you'd asked him to help apply some cream to your back he practically flew out of his home art studio to come and help you.

"That's so nice," You moaned out as his hands softly rubbed the cream into the freshly-inked skin making your body completely relax against his touch. You'd only asked him to apply a little cream, not an entire backrub but it appeared as though Hyunjin was down to make you completely relax with him.

"You should get more tattoos," Hyunjin whispered to you, his lips finding their place on the back of your neck while his hands slowly came to a stop and you let out a grumble in protest.

"Why'd you stop?" You questioned, slowly craning your neck to be able to look at him only to find him staring at you with a darkened look in his eyes.

"I figured my hands would be much more useful somewhere else," He whispered seductively, his hands slowly running up the innards of your thigh as you let out a small breath of realisation. Your entire body was on fire the moment you realised what he was hinting at and you giggled to yourself,

"Oh? Is that right?" You slowly turned so that you were sitting up and facing him as he smirked back at you, two seconds away from kissing you into a frenzy.

"Only if you want to," He told you, slowly inching himself closer to your body before you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

JISUNG:

Jisung had been there while you were getting your tattoo done and you'd never seen the man act so strange before. Every minute he was shifting in his seat, blushing whenever you caught him staring at your thigh and whimpering when the tattoo was finally completed. Even after you'd paid the lady behind the counter he was rushing you out of the shop and in the direction of the car.

"I thought you wanted to go and look for the new manga you were wanting," You laughed nervously wondering what the big rush with getting you into the car was. The two of you had planned to go shopping after your tattoo but it appeared as though that option was no longer on the table.

"That was before," He whispered, unlocking the car so quickly he was almost dropping the keys onto the floor. In all the time you'd been dating you couldn't think of a time you'd seen Jisung this much in a rush about something, his hands were shaking and he appeared to look around nervously.

"Before what?" You raised your eyebrow as your boyfriend took you into the back of the car instead of the front and he laid you down on the seats. It began to click in your mind what exactly he was doing and you couldn't help but feel a little ego boost from it all,

"Before I got so horny I was ready to fuck you in that damn tattoo chair," He breathed out, shutting the door as he began to kiss you like a man starved. His lips crashed against yours hungrily, biting and sucking on your bottom lip while his hands ran down your waist, attempting to untuck the shirt from your skirt as you giggled against his lips.

"Slow down there cowboy," You pressed your palm against his chest and shook your head, there was absolutely no way you were about to have sex in the middle of a car parking lot in broad daylight.

"Let's get home before you start dry humping my leg like a needy pup," You said, sliding out from under him and getting out of the car to get back into the driver's seat, listening to your boyfriend whimper in protest.

FELIX:

Though Felix had never voiced what your tattoos did to him, it didn't exactly take a genius to figure out that they turned him on. Just last week you'd gotten another one added to your body and Felix had barely been able to leave you alone for more than 20 minutes at a time. Even now when you were supposed to be having a gaming night with his friends he was sitting with you right next to him,

"If you're not careful I'll be sitting on your lap next," You teased him as he attempted to pull you even closer to him. He didn't care that his friends were in the room, your tattoos were on display and all he wanted to do was take you into the bathroom and show you how much he adored them.

"That's not a bad thing," He whispered in your ear, not missing a beat as he bit down on your ear lobe and let out a small whimper when you scooted away from him. There was a time and a place for him to act needy toward you and this was neither,

"We're at your friend's place," You laughed, sliding a cardigan on to cover up the tattoos on your arms not that it was going to do much to sway him when he'd already laid eyes on them.

"Then let's go home," He was completely serious about it too but you shook your head at him, going to get another drink from the kitchen and letting his friends tease him for how needy he was acting toward you.

SEUNGMIN:

Those who assumed that Seungmin was quiet and laid back in the bedroom clearly hadn't been friends with your boyfriend long enough, or Seungmin was just incredibly good at hiding his true intentions around people. The boys would constantly tease him about how much of a laid-back lover he must have been but they couldn't have been more wrong.

"S-Seungmin," You whined out, your legs beginning to burn from how long the two of you had been at this. Ever since you'd gotten another tattoo the man had barely left you alone, getting needier whenever he would see the ink that lined your collarbone. It wasn't anything extravagant nor was it anything that was majorly a turn-on but the sight of ink on your body drove Seungmin mad with desire.

"Fucked out already baby? I've only made you cum four times," He chuckled to himself, holding you still on top of him as you lazily leaned your head against his shoulder trying to catch your breath.

"You're like a fucking wild animal whenever I get a new tattoo," You breathed out, enjoying the way his hands slowly began to rub up and down your back gently.

"I can't help it, there's just something about the way it looks on you," He admitted to you, watching as your eyes slowly began to shut as you struggled to stay awake.

JEONGIN:

Jeongin had no idea what it was that turned him on so much about you having tattoos, it never happened whenever he saw someone else with a tattoo. Though he'd always found them to be "badass" or "cool-looking" on other people there was just something about you that sent the man frantic.

"What about this one?" You questioned as you stepped into the changing area's waiting station, you were supposed to be choosing a dress for your friend's wedding but it appeared as though you were struggling majorly. Whatever option you picked never felt right when you were alone so you'd dragged your boyfriend out with you to help.

"What's the back like?" Jeongin questioned, his eyes travelling up and down your body as you slowly did a spin to show him the back of the gown. Within seconds you were being pushed back into the changing room and the door was locked, your heart was practically in your throat with how fast you'd been moved.

"Innie?" You giggled, feeling your boyfriend press your body against the wall, his hands slowly trailing down your waist and dragging you close. Jeongin's heart was racing as he let out a small whimper of your name,

"It's backless," He whispered as if that was clearing anything up but you were just as confused as before, you'd worn plenty of backless dresses before and he'd never reacted this way to them.

"Your tattoo," Realisation began to crash into you as you smirked at him. Of course, you had tattoos everywhere but for some reason, the one on your back - which was your most recent - was the one that caused Jeongin to get turned on the most. Maybe it was the size of it or the fact that it was so incredibly detailed you had no idea, all you knew was that whenever he saw it he would get so turned on he'd take you anywhere to take care of his needs.

"I'm not fucking you in the changing rooms," You chuckled as he let out a small whimper in protest to you, sounding almost so needy you wanted to give in to him but this was a public area and you still needed to find a dress to wear.

"Shall I get this dress?" You whispered to him, your fingers slowly curling a strand of his hair around your finger. Jeongin's eyes never left yours, as though he was in a trance with you.

"Get this dress. I won't leave you alone the whole night at the wedding," A smirk began to grow on your lips as you thought about it, the thought of having him attached to you all night long sounded like bliss.

"This dress it is then, now..." You began to pull away from him as you spoke,

"Get out and let me change." You drove him slowly toward the door as he protested for you not to let him go out there the way that he was, he had no way of hiding how hard he was right now.

"We'll go straight home and I'll take care of you baby," You promised, leaving one last long kiss on his lips before shoving him out and into a chair to wait for you.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @army24--7 @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @kimahnjung98 @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop

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starzwithapen · 11 months ago

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⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑

JOHN DORY / READER ☆ DUET?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

☆summary: Brozone happens to play on the radio, and JD's appalled to find out you're not a fan

☆content: reader is not a pop-troll, reader is gender neutral, lowkey crackfic lmao, established relationship

☆a/n: Silver wrote this one!! And okay we KNOW realistically JD would tell his partner about being in brozone but for the sake of the comedic factor in the fic he's hiding it shshsshshhsbshshsh

⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑

You'd been sitting in the driver's seat, driving Rhonda around [a rare occurrence, but JD indulged you just this once] while John Dory stirred his sugar into his mug, handing you yours with a kiss to your cheek. You nod at him gratefully, looking down at the buttons spread across in front of you, one of them particularly sticking out to you.

“Woah, wait, I didn't know Rhonda had a radio.”

John Dory leans against the back of your seat, arms wrapped around you from behind, “ehh, I don't use it often in case it scares off all the animals.”

He pokes your arm playfully, eyes glancing out the window, “we're pretty far out, though, should be fine to listen to some tunes.”

You insert a random channel number, turning the volume upwards. This one seems to be a host speaking about the weather, so you switch to the next- sounds like a cheesy pop song of some kind, probably a boy band. You snort at the lyrics- you didn't know anyone could fit that many synonyms of “girl” into one song.

You switch onto the next channel without catching John Dory's wide, shit-eating grin, and the immediate way his face practically crumples apart, “wuh- hey, what's wrong with that last song? It was really good.”

“Okay, I know you're a pop-troll,” you start, trying to find a channel with your preferred music, “but you have to remember I'm not. That stuff hurts my ears.”

John Dory leans backwards, arms crossing around his chest, “Okay, yeah, you don't like pop music, but why that song specifically? I was really jamming out to it, y'know.” He makes that smug smile of his that normally has your cheeks heating, “guy's a lyrical genius if you ask me.”

You stare at him, unimpressed, because he's got to be joking if he thinks that song has deep lyrics.

“JD, he just rhymed baby with baby. Three times in a row. Within the same chorus.”

“Hey, it's hard to think of rhymes that don't throw off the choreo, okay?” He points an accusing finger in your direction before pausing, forcing a nonchalant pose and pursing his lips, “Or- uh, or so I've heard.”

“Yeah, yeah, that's what you pop-trolls always say. I think that guy just needs to pick up a dictionary every once in a while.”

You don't actually care about the song that much, but seeing John Dory get this riled up over it is funny enough for you to go further,

“I bet you I could write a better song by the end of the week than that guy has his whole career.”

John Dory's grin turns wolfish, and oh boy, you should've known better than to try and challenge him, even jokingly,

“Oh you bet, do you? We'll see about that.”

—-------------------

This whole thing was going. Uh. Badly.

Your conversation had escalated into another one of your bets, which you surprisingly lose more often than not, most likely because you bite off more than you can chew. John Dory's unfortunately very aware of this, and throws you bait whenever he can. This time was no different. Winner gets one request for the loser.

You are not a song-writer by any means. You're a troll, yes, trolls sing and dance! But you don't write songs! The most experience you have with rhyming is a shitty poem you made as a teenager that never saw the light of day.

You'd started with listening to more of Brozone's music, and okay, you have to admit, some of their songs were actually really good okay. You'd caught yourself humming them more than once throughout the day, and John Dory always gives you that smug look from your peripherals before leaning in to kiss you senseless. He knew you were coming around to them and it was humiliating, and he was also concerningly elated by it.

While listening you've come to realise the lead singer sounds oddly similar to John Dory, just with a higher pitch and none of that raspiness. Like, freakishly similar. It's had you thinking John Dory's calling for you when he's just sound asleep, and the fact you misheard Brozone's “baby” or “honey” as JD is frankly embarrassing.

You groan and slump against the couch, the pen tumbling out your hand and clattering onto the ground below. Okay, you had to admit, this was really difficult. You were suddenly gaining so much more respect for boy bands.

You'd wanted to use this ridiculous bet as an opportunity to show off, or…even bring you and JD closer together- you know how important music is to him, so getting to write him a love song under the guise of a bet? It's a perfect chance handed to you on a silver platter!

But you just can't seem to think of the words- it's already been a week and so far you've written, what? 4 verses? And they all sucked. You wanted it to mean something- you wanted it to sound poetic and elegant and meaningful all at once, unlike those silly songs on the radio, but it just wouldn't work out!

You muffle a frustrated shout into your hands, pulling them away from your face when you hear footsteps, looking up to see John Dory towering over you.

“You give up yet?” His smile is adorable infuriating to look at, so you cast your gaze aside, huffing and grabbing your pen off the floor.

“No, ‘course not.”

He hums, patient for you to admit defeat, trying to take a peek at your notebook from up above, though you're not too worried since he can't read upside down [or at all, you've come to suspect].

“Okay, fine, I give up. You win.”

John Dory lets out a ‘whoop!’ and throws a fist upwards in celebration, smile so wide you're afraid he'll split his face apart.

You sigh, “Okay, hit me with it, I'm doing the dishes for a full week? Scrubbing Rhonda's windows?”

“Sing a duet with me.”

“This is so unfair, you know I hate doing the dishes- wait- huh?”

John Dory looks at you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes, holding his palm out for you to take, “Sing a duet with me. C'mon, don't think I haven't seen you swaying to my- uh, ahem, Brozone's music the past few days.”

He recovers quickly from his slip-up, tugging you upwards once you take his hand. He carefully starts up his record player, and you're surprised to find you recognise the song immediately, since it'd become a favourite of yours this past week.

“You know this one?” JD grins in your direction, one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder, his touch gentle yet firm, “think I've heard you hum it a few too many times during breakfast.”

The song starts off slow, as does your dancing, the both of you simply swaying together- you don't exactly…dance often, so your movements are clumsy while his are self-assured.

The lyrics are cheesy, all about young teenage love, but…they make you feel giddy, your steps becoming lighter, your heart fluttering about. And, well, the song may not have deep mind-blowing lyrics, but you think that's the point of it. It's just meant to be fun, have your blood pumping and your heart soaring.

“We're grown adults, this song is for highschoolers.” You say, though your smile is fonder this time. John Dory chuckles and spins you around in his arms, making your head spin in more ways than one, your feet tripping up over his, “C’mon, live a little! Who says we can't be young and free in our mid-thirties?”

You stumble in place, trying to blink the dizziness out your eyes.

“JD, I'm gonna knock you out.” You try your best to grumble, but it only comes out flustered with how hot your cheeks are.

He smirks, twirling you around, “You've already knocked me-” his foot slides under yours, and you fall down into his arms with a yelp as he catches you in a perfect dip- “off my feet.”

Just before you can spew another insult at him for catching you off-gaurd like this, he leans in to kiss you, lips melding against yours sweetly. You melt into it, his arms secured around you so you don't fall, the music fading into background noise in your mind. You know your voice will be hoarse from singing and your muscles sore from dancing by the end of the night, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑

Would be superr cool if you left feedback if you enjoyed it's super helpful and much appreciated ! this guy is so cringefail I NEED HIM. -silver

#starzwrites #WORKING ON VIVA REQS RNNN ^w^#this was already in our drafts since silver wrote it so Im posting jt rn while i work on Viva stuff yippeee !!!#trolls #trolls x reader #john dory x reader #trolls john dory x reader #x reader #reader insert #self insert

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star-sim · 8 months ago

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how you hurt him ☆ ot7

☆ non-idol! ot7 enhypen x fem! reader ☆ summary: all the ways that you hurt him (ft. song lyrics) ☆ genre: angst ☆ warning(s): toxic relationship, toxic! reader, mentions of cheating, this is practice for an english project so please bear with me, most of this is very figurative/abstract ☆ word count: 2.9k total ☆ aka enhypen boys as sad love songs, it’s like 1am i will edit later 😭

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

heeseung ☆

"why would you ever kiss me? i'm not even half as pretty" — heather, conan gray

was there something wrong with heeseung? what if he wasn't good enough for you? did you think he was ugly? disgusting? annoying? needy?

at the beginning of your relationship, you made it clear to heeseung that you weren't good with words.

"don't worry about it," heeseung had told you. "i'm not good either."

he thought you meant that you found it hard to say "i love you."

what you meant was that you were indeed good with words, just bad at saying nice things to him.

at first he thought he was being ridiculous, a prisoner of his own mind.

he knew you loved him— how could you possibly not?

but if you loved him, why did you say such nasty things to him?

"god, heeseung, you're so stupid."

"i can't believe i'm dating someone like you."

"i'm disgusted with you."

he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.

what had he done to make you repulsed by him? was he being sensitive?

he hated himself for all of it.

he hated the creeping feelings of jealousy that would suffocate him like a noose to a prisoner whenever he saw you talk to another man. did you like him more than heeseung? what if you wanted to leave him?

he hated how he craved what little kind words you could give him. it was so rare for you to compliment and speak to him gently, so when you did, heeseung was drunk on it.

he hated how insecure he got.

he hated how his mind was a gallow of its own.

he hated how afraid he was.

"you're so pretty," you whispered into his ear.

heeseung's stomach did flips. did you really mean it? was he as pretty as all the other men you entertained yourself with? was that why you kissed him and not them?

did this mean that you really loved him?

heeseung felt something tighten around his neck. not in that suffocating way that made him claw at his skin until he bled as he stared in the mirror asking himself what could be changed, but in the way that made him feel warm all over.

he’d wait at the gallows like a convicted prisoner, he’d stand there proud, ready to say his last words. he’d keep his hands behind his back, he’d admire the brass noose that would be his eternal necklace.

because for heeseung, to be with you, and to love you, was to be helpless.

to love you was to wait like a dog in the cold.

to love you was to eat your every word like it was his last meal.

to love you was to be your prisoner waiting for you to execute him.

jay ☆

"pretend that we are more than friends, then of course I'll let you break my heart again" — let you break my heart again, laufey

it's not your fault, jay tells himself. it's not your fault that you can't love him.

but at what point does it become your fault?

you knew that he loved you. he'd told you multiple times, shown you a billion other times. anyone with eyes could tell that he was head over heels in love with you. everyone knew.

especially you— you who rejected him time and time again, laughing that he was just a friend to you.

but here you were, pressing yourself up against him, looking at him with lidded eyes and licking your lips like you wanted to eat him. you held his hand against your chest, whispering a soft "good night." jay knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, not with you so close to him, not with the ache in his chest.

it's not your fault that he loves you, jay thought. but it is your fault that you lead him on, that you pretend to kiss him, that you snuggle up next to him knowing that he'd lay down his life for you.

did you enjoy torturing him like this?

what pleasure did you take in constantly making him think that he had a chance with you?

was this how it was going to be forever?

were you always going to keep him waiting like this, just because you knew that he'd stay no matter what?

jay swallowed the lump in his throat.

he couldn't continue living like this, having you play with his feeling like this.

"jay..." you mumbled, reaching out for him. jay was pulled out of his thoughts, his eyes flickering to you. you looked so innocent and peaceful despite himself. how could he ever stop? how could he stop when it was you at hand?

"i'm here," he hummed, throwing an arm around you. i'm always here.

you were warm, and soft, and everything that jay could ever want in a person. your soft breathing brushed up against his cheek.

jay stared at your sleeping face.

would it hurt to pretend that you were more than friends?

he let his eyelids fall slowly.

he could imagine you and him dancing in the kitchen, laughing together as the scent of jay's cooking filled the apartment. jazz music would be playing, and you'd pretend to be an old flapper couple from the '20's, swirling around the cold kitchen tiles.

your words from earlier echoed in his head.

"i love you so much, jay!"

"you're the best."

"how could i ever be so lucky to meet you?"

it made his heart pound in his chest, unable to hide the lovesick grin spreading on his face.

he knew your words meant nothing, that you truly only saw him as a friend.

he needed to stop this delusion now, else he'd be even more hurt than he already was. you broke his heart over and over again, as if it meant nothing to you.

but as you and him twirled around his head, basking in each other's presence, jay couldn't bring himself to let you go.

he'd let you, jay thought. he'd let you break his heart.

as many times as you wanted.

jake ☆

"the other man will always cry himself to sleep, the other man will never have her love to keep" — the other woman, lana del rey

of course jake knew that he wasn't the only man in your life.

how many times did he lay in bed at night, wishing that it was him that could hold you? how many times did he dream of being the man that could call you his? how many fantasies did he have of marrying you, of giving you the world?

and how many times did he have to remind himself that he couldn't have you— that you already had someone to love?

it made jake feel sick, seeing all the pictures that you posted with you and your husband, hearing all the chatter about your 2-year wedding anniversary, and forcing himself to smile as a tight-lipped "congratulations" fell from his mouth.

but what made him even more sick was how happy he felt whenever you showed up at his doorstep in the depths of the night.

jake couldn't help it.

he couldn't help how his stomach did flips when your hands slithered up his chest, wrapping around his neck as you pressed kisses against his jaw.

he couldn't help how his body moved on its own as he took in the scent of your perfume, his head filling with nothing but you, you, you.

he couldn't help how he craved you, how he was unable to pull away from you, even though he knew you had a husband waiting for you back home.

he couldn't help how for a moment, he could pretend that you were his; for a moment, he could live in the illusion that he was the one that you came home to every night, that he was the one that you woke up with in the morning, that he was the one that you sat at the kitchen table with to discuss your weekly grocery list, that he was the one that you laughed with in the depths of night, that he was the only man that you loved.

but as quickly as it started, you were already out the door, waving goodbye with a sweet smile as if you hadn't committed a crime against your husband.

jake knew the sight of your retreating back better than anyone, and as he closed the door, he'd suck in a sharp breath.

he would deny it over and over, until his words lost meaning.

but he knew the truth.

he was a fool for thinking that he could have you, for after all this time, he was the other man.

sunghoon ☆

"i bet on losing dogs, i know they're losing and i'll pay for my place" — i bet on losing dogs, mitski

you and sunghoon were never meant to work out, and he knew this.

everyone said that you'd hurt him. he'd seen it with his own eyes, how you bore your bloody teeth and ripped into people like they were your prey, how you barked venomous words at people.

you were a losing dog to begin with, a losing dog that would never truly love him the same way you loved yourself.

and before he knew it, sunghoon realized that everyone was right.

you sunk your teeth into him, feasting on what love he could give you like a ravenous hyena.

but how could he resist you? how could he resist your touch, your warmth, your limited moments of compassion?

wounded, bleeding, scarred, sunghoon staggered away from the killing floor. yet, he was unable to stop himself from turning over his shoulder to see your face.

there was something disgusting he felt, something that made sunghoon nauseous. his stomach churned. and then he realized, he couldn't bring himself to leave you.

because you were a starving dog, thristy for a victim.

because you were a wailing dog, weeping over your kill as if it would atone you.

because you were a losing dog, a dog that sunghoon placed his bets on.

and it was time for him to pay the price of his actions.

sunoo ☆

"i know who you pretend i am" —washing machine heart, mitski

sunoo wasn't stupid.

he knew it better than anyone, that your heart didn't belong to him. it never did, and it never will.

sunoo saw the way that you yearned, he saw the way that your eyes lit up, he saw the way that you gazed with love in your eyes— all for someone that wasn't him.

so why did you kiss him like he meant anything to you? why did you hold him like he could have you?

he knew why.

"i missed you so much," you breathed against his ear, pressing him against the wall. "so, so, so much."

the taste of your lips was addicting.

you liked to kiss roughly. you liked to run your fingers through his hair and pull it harshly, making him groan lowly against your lips. you liked to slip your fingers up his shirt, making him shudder.

sunoo liked to kiss gently. he liked it when your lips would melt against his. he liked it when you played with the clasp of the silver chain around his neck. he liked it when you pulled away and giggled softly at the lipstick smudge at the corner of his lip.

he didn't like it rough like you did.

but he took it all.

he took it all, because he loved you.

he took it all, even though he knew that you were kissing him pretending that he someone else.

it wasn't hard to tell.

you wore the gold necklace that he gave you, never any of the ones that sunoo got you.

you didn't even blink when sunoo's name was said, but the mere mention of his interests or career had you reeling.

and of course, he liked when you kissed roughly so you were a rough kisser, even though sunoo liked it gentle.

you don't even look at sunoo the way you look at him.

when you said "i miss you," sunoo could tell that you didn't mean it.

you didn't miss sunoo, you missed him. you just missed the attention that sunoo gave you.

he knew who you pretended he was.

but all he could do was look into your eyes, and be reminded of a tragedy: that while you couldn't love him back, he loved you.

"i missed you, too," he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat, swallowing his dignity.

jungwon ☆

"if you need to be mean, be mean to me" — i don't smoke, mitski

to be vulnerable, to be at someone's mercy, to be someone's lamb for the slaughter, was jungwon's biggest fear. he'd die before he'd let someone take advantage of his weakness.

yet as you slipped out of his grip, your once loving eyes turning cold as hands that once held him in your arms became the hands that striked him, all he could do was sit back and take it.

words like daggers into his back, slashing him over and over like he was a sacrificial lamb for a god that could not save him. hot tears would line as eyes as you raised your knife at him, sending shivers down his spine that made him cower into his skin, chanting apologies like they were prayers.

jungwon should run. after all, that was all he spent his life doing.

but how could he escape you when you kissed his tear-stained face? how could he leave you, for when your anger simmered down you cradled his cheek, whispering that you loved him?

it hurt, it hurt so bad.

but if you must destroy him, if you must slaughter him until your killing floor was covered in blood, if you must cut him up into little pieces for your own pleasure, so be it.

he'd follow you into the slaughterhouse, knowing full well that the darkness was the last thing he'd ever see, and jungwon would close his eyes and thank the person that crafted your blade anyway.

you can kiss him, you can hold him close, or you can strike him, you can treat him like an animal. he wouldn't care. it would be the same either way; he'd be glad that it was you.

for he was your lamb, and you were his butcher; for if you needed to be mean, be mean to him.

riki ☆

"even though she isn’t even really gone, but things are just different ever since she cut her blue hair off" — blue hair, tv girl

of course riki noticed. how could he not?

all those bored looks when he was talking, aimless nods when he asked you a question, and loveless kisses that you pressed against his skin. it took you hours to respond to his texts and calls, and when you did, you responded curtly. you stopped coming home, always having plans on weekends with no time for him.

riki didn't know what happened.

he thought that you and him had such a great relationship, filled with love and laughter.

but somewhere along the way, you seemed to lose interest in him.

he asked all your friends, but they said nothing changed about your behavior.

did riki do something wrong? did he make you angry? all questions that he'd never find the answer to.

the silence was piercing, ringing in his ears. he'd just asked you how your day was, and all he got back was a simple, vacant stare, before you turned back to your phone, scrolling mindlessly. his heart sunk so his stomach, brows crashing together.

had riki lost you? all he wanted was for you to look at him, for you to acknowledge him. was he being dramatic?

please, riki begged. please look at me, please see me, please love me.

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caitskywalker14 · 29 days ago

Text

Run For The Hills - Toxic! Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

So this is my first post on here and I’m currently DOWN BAD for Ellie and I LOVE all the angst fics people write on here so wanted to do my own based on ‘run for the hills’ by Tate McRae as the song is soooo good! And fits the mood of this story??? lol. This also is super long but it’s worth it I hope

Anyway, i hope you all enjoy this as much as I have writing it you hoes xx

( toxic!ellie, cheating, drug mention, substance use, situationships, reader is aware its wrong but can’t stop loving Ellie, swearing, hints of spice, modern au, overall negative vibes from Ellie, TW bruises and physical pain as well as mental/emotional pain, confusing love and lust, toxic name calling, manipulation and angst)

Bold is lyrics of the song xx

GIF is not mine - credit to original owner and creator.

Hotels, late nights, hands through my hair

Long talks, red eyes, clothes everywhere

Missing a moment when you're still there

You gotta thing you can't find nowhere, yeah-yeah

“Yeah well you’re fucking stupid if you think that you’re the only girl I’m screwing” screamed Ellie, her voice cracking in anger as she watched you pace up and down her apartment for what seemed like the 100th time this month. Despite it being late into the evening, your clothes were scattered all over the furniture, a reminder of the madness that just happened, and you desperately wanted to gather them and get out.

You and Ellie had a complicated relationship, if you could even call it that - hot, tension filled sex and arguments mixed with the drugs and alcohol fuelled college parties only made the situations you would find yourself in 10 times worse. Not to mention her lying, cheating, manipulation, and endless list of red flags that would lead any sane person to immediately cut ties… Yet there was something about the girl that drew you in. Like a moth to a flame, she enticed you, her words like honey when she whispered filthy words of praise in your ears, fingers rough yet still gentle on the rare occasions she’d take care of you after sex. And those eyes - those piercing, green eyes that seemed to fill your core with heat and desire every time she looked into yours. Ellie Williams truly was something else, and you knew it - she knew it too. Her confidence oozed sex appeal, as she often would remind you during arguements, like tonight, that she could “get any girl in her bed” and she didn’t have a problem with getting “pretty girls with pretty pussy”.

Sometimes, on a rare occasion, she’d let you in to see her softer side. Her front of being cocky and arrogant slipped away when she’d carefully hold your hand whilst tenderly stroking your skin to calm you down at parties, or when you’d come to see her and she’d made a poor attempt of a pasta dish she heard you talk about for dinner and even on some mornings where you would wake up to her softly caressing your face whilst running her hands through your hair as she gazed with nothing but love and affection towards you. The long, deep talks you’d have whilst sharing weed, eyes red and hazy where you’d talk about hopes and plans for the future whilst she listened eagerly, joining in to talk and interrupt your rants with sweet kisses, both of you giggling like children. These moments were what kept you coming back for more, however these were rarer recently as the only things you would do together were fight, argue, cry, fuck and ghost each other in the ongoing cycle of your “situation”.

Deep down, you knew that Ellie had issues with commitment, whether that be with you, college work or even part time jobs - it wasn’t her “thing” as she often said to upset you during fights, preferring to live life recklessly which honestly fucked with your head in more ways than one. How could someone who claimed to love you cheat on you with girls all over campus? The same girl who said she was yours - that you owned her mind,body and soul, had messages and messages on her phone from girls who desperately wanted to sleep with her again. She truly was a piece of shit towards you, and you knew this yet foolishly still gave into her with a click of her fingers and you’d go running back. The truth was, when you cut her off you felt free, like you could breathe and the air was suddenly fresh and clear of all pollution yet inside your body, it didn’t feel right - you began to miss the moments you had when she was temporarily yours, you missed her mouth, the taste of her lips and the scent of her cologne. The things you couldn’t find in anyone else made it hard to leave, nowhere else felt like home to you.

Kissing, screaming, straight back to war

I'm walking out until I lock the door

Maybe the danger's covered by the thrill

'Cause I know I should be running for the hills

“Ellie I’m not fucking stupid that’s why I’m done with you, I’m done with whatever fucked up fantasy this is and I’m done with being treated like I don’t mean shit to you.” You paused in your step, hastily slipping on your jeans and hoodie as Ellie sat on her couch, smoking a cigarette with almost glassy eyes as she chuckled to herself.

“I’m exhausted Ellie, you’ve drained the life out of me and those messages?? Those fucking messages from Yasmine, that girl you swore you didn’t fuck last weekend when you bailed on our plans have tipped me over the fucking edge so I’m done”, you screamed at her, fuelled with anger and rage directed not only at Ellie and her antics, but yourself for being so dumb enough to think she could change. Ellie sat silently, you could see her mind was racing of what more hurtful lies she could spew at you. She puts her smoke out before she starts her talk.

“Yeah well, it’s not my fault you’re just a dumb slut who can’t get it into her skull that we aren’t a real thing, you should know that by now I fuck who I want, when I want, and you” she stands up, rushing into your personal space, beginning to jab her finger into your chest with each word, “YOU are not gonna stop me!“

“It’s your fault that I do cheat. I mean I have to put up with your bitchy whining all the time and I get sick of it. Why can’t you just be chill like the others?.”

You scoff in disbelief at her words, stepping back away from her vicious stance. Usually by now you’d be crying asking for her to stop and you’d seemingly end up back in her bed, but all you can think about is how disgusting she sounds and how you definitely deserve better. “Well I won’t whine anymore and I’m not gonna stop you from fucking whatever girl you pick, because you’re dead to me.”. You turn around, collecting your last few items, ignoring her cold stare piercing into your back.

Once you had gathered your belongings, you leant against the door frame to put your shoes on, when suddenly a brutal force pushed you against the door, Ellie had you trapped. She had her tatted, muscular arms pressed against the door, caging your body so you couldn’t escape. “Babe, come on, you know you don’t mean that.”, she utters, looking into your eyes with that smirk, teasing you with her tone. “You always act so tough and mighty but we both know what you want”. Ellie’s fingers now found themselves gripping at your chin, tilting your head up to look deeper into her eyes, still keeping you secure against her chest and the door. “You want to be consumed by me, you live and breathe for me baby and you know that I’m the only one who gives that pussy a good fuck, just how you like it”, her hands now trailing down to your hips to possessively grab you to further press herself into your body. You let out a small gasp at the impact, turning your head away to avoid looking into her eyes as she slowly traced kisses over the sensitive skin of your neck. Mustering your strength, you push Ellie away from you, opening the door to finally leave the toxic girl you once loved. Before you left, she dropped her last few words.

“You should have known not to get too attached baby, I told you to run for the hills before ever falling for me”

You shuddered. A sick part of you loved the thrill, the chase and the danger surrounding Ellie Williams, but yeah maybe you should run for the hills, and never come back.

The way you touch me

Straight to the heart, yeah

It cuts me

'Cause I know deep down that it's

Never gonna ever be us, oh

Never gonna ever be more than just something that's fucking me up

A few days have passed, and you’re alone in your room. Since your messy “breakup” with Ellie, you don’t think you’ve ever been this bored in your entire life. Mindlessly, you begin scrolling on social media, checking snap, TikTok and the usual sites to see what everyone’s up to. Scrolling through instagram stories, you stumble across Ellie’s. You forgot to block her account this time, you’d been busy doing your own thing and your method of “healing” didn’t include blocking…more in the form of parties, kissing girls and doing shots until you blacked out with your friends.

Anxiously, you debated whether or not to click it - you knew she’d see you in her views and probably boast about it to her friends that you were obsessed with her, but you thought fuck it and clicked onto it. You held a breath as you nervously waited for the story to load. When it did, your heart stopped in your chest, a painful cut seeping slowly through your skin. It was a picture of Ellie in a bathroom mirror at what seemed to be a party, with a girl (a girl whom you actually haven’t seen her with before), bent over with Ellie stood behind her grabbing her hip as the other hand held her phone so she could pose in the mirror. The story included a caption “New bitch who dis” and the song choice was rather interesting at least - “I don’t fuck with you”.

As soon as you’d saw this, you finally let out a gasp of shock as you paused the screen, examining every last detail of the picture - Ellie’s fingernails now painted black, her signature flannel shirt unbuttoned for a relaxed look and her smirk as she looked into the camera, almost as if she was taunting you by her public display of her latest fling. It hurt, you couldn’t lie or pretend that her attempt of making you feel shitty didn’t work because it did. You looked as Ellie’s hand was possessively gripping the girl’s hip, often like how she would with you when she’d take you from behind (especially at parties when you’d sneak off to the bathroom), and you missed her touch. The way her fingers worked inside you, curling to hit the spot that made you see stars, the way they’d pull and tug at your hair when she’d pound you and the touch of her lips when she’d suck on your neck and nipples when she fucked you. It all came flooding back into your head and you felt your eyes swell with tears, stomach aching as you felt your emotions overflowing.

Still, deep down, you knew that it would never just be you and her. You knew your once-ideal-world of you being together was a facade. You knew that you’d never be enough for Ellie, enough to make her change. Despite this, it still hurt and the wounds she left seemed like they’d never heal. This toxic cycle did nothing but fuck you up each time it happened. Swiping off her story, you took a deep breath as you laid your head back onto your pillow, closing your eyes as you took deep breaths.

You made a promise to yourself to rise above it - you deserved so much better.

I know that when it's all done

I'll hate you bad in the long run

But, somehow, it never ends

My heel's on the edge of your bed again, yeah

I get obsessive with you

All that I want is attention from you

Break into my life and break all my rules, it's true

It had now been nearly 2 weeks since you’d seen Ellie in person, and despite her numerous attempts to contact you via calling, texting, Snapchat and all the rest, your dislike for the girl was still strong and you swore that you had finally closed your chapter with Ellie for good. It was also down to your friends (who always were there when she’d hurt you in the past) that literally warned you not to go back or else they’d rock your shit. They hated Ellie and hated her making you cry. You promised them that it was done, finished and over, convincing them and yourself that you hated her.

The weekend was finally approaching and there were major plans for a party at one of the frat houses on campus. You and your friends were extremely excited to attend, especially after a hard week of exams, tests and homework. The best medicine you all needed was to look sexy, get wasted and maybe even hook up with fellow party-goers. It was that one night that you desperately craved someone’s attention. You just didn’t think it would be from the person who broke your heart…Ellie. Even more so after all you’ve said about “not falling back into her trap”. Again, fate decided that this cycle would never end.

The night was crazy, you had had more shots that you could count, cups and cups full of endless spirits mixed with cheap juices/soda. You had laughed with friends whilst dancing to the playlist booming from the speakers, comforted random girls in the bathroom who cried over their exes and gotten a few girls socials (maybe even had a few kisses too but you’d probably forget all about them in the morning). However, all the fun had to come to an end at some point.

As soon as you saw Ellie stood in the corner, her eyes darkening with lust and passion, heat filled your core and you felt those same butterflies you felt the first time you saw her. The music and voices turned to a blur as the only thing you could focus on was her as she slowly walked towards you through the crowd, pulling you into her arms to hold you close - almost as if you’d slip away again if she let go. Nervously, you looked into her eyes, cursing yourself for craving her touch and attention. You were down bad, obsessed with her and it would surely be the death of you.

“You ready to come home babe?” She asked softly, a hint of amusement in her tone as she rested her hands on your waist, rubbing up and down your body.

The only thing you could do was nod as she gripped your hand, her poisonous touch melting away at your flesh as she led you to the uber she’d booked. Whisking you away from the party with only one thing on her mind - make up sex. Touching and tasting your body, the things that Ellie missed way more than she’d admit.

You broke the promise you made to your friends, you broke the promise to yourself and you let her invade your life like a parasite once again. It’s true, you’d let her break you down again like always. All just to gain some sort of attention from her, even if it was fake.

You hooked up once more.

Should run for the hills, should run for the hills

Should be running for the hills

The way you touch me

The next morning you woke up, limbs tangled and your clothes scattered all over Ellie’s cluttered bedroom. Your head was pounding from your hangover as you turned to Ellie’s sleeping figure next to you. She looked so peaceful, at ease and calm as you watched her chest rise slowly with each breath she took. You laid there for a good 30 minutes, counting each freckle on her cheeks, tracing her scars lightly to not wake her.

You wish every moment you spent with Ellie could be like this - it would be a dream come true. Though you knew deep down that this moment would be ruined in some way or another when the girl woke up, or even in a few days when her habits caught up with her. You felt your eyes fill with salty tears as you felt nausea overcome you when gazing at her. How could someone so beautiful cause so much suffering?

Lightly turning over, you stretched your sore limbs as you got up to head to the bathroom, walking in and turning the light on.

You looked a mess - a physical manifestation of your mind and soul. Lips cracked and sore, as you gazed at your reflection. Your chest was covered in bites and bruises, causing you to wince as you’d accidentally press too hard on your wrists, where her hands had gripped you last night. Looking down, your inner thighs were not left untouched with finger prints and bites there too. Last night was a blur, you enjoyed the sex you and Ellie would engage in but last night seemed to cause more pain than pleasure. As you stood there in silence you came to the reality…

This was the touch you craved? These were the type of marks that drove you wild?

How did you not see the physical damage she did to you?

You spent all your time being mentally drained by Ellie that you’d forgotten how it felt physically to be treated like this by someone you were supposed to love and feel protected by. It wasn’t right and you felt like a fool for it taking this long for you to truly realise the impact she had on you. Her touch was toxic, her words were venom and you’d clearly confused love and lust as the same thing. You had spent that much time focusing on the rare good moments you’d have with Ellie, that they had made you forget how unhealthy it all was.

Washing your face with cold water, you looked into the mirror at the girl you didn’t recognise. It was time to leave. For good. Before it was too late.

Leaving the bathroom, you silently began getting dressed, trying your best to not break down and wake her. Ellie was a deep sleeper, especially after drinking so you knew that this would be an easy escape. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you looked round the room at all of her posters, pictures and trinkets she had. You inhaled the scent of pine leaves, mint and vanilla. Taking a deep breath, you looked at Ellie once more, before leaning down to place a kiss at the top of her head and you left.

You did the one thing you’d never thought you’d do.

You ran for those hills and you never looked back.

So guys I hope you enjoyed this first piece I wrote, it made me emotional to write this as I myself have been through similar situations as well as people I know in real life. As I stated this is my first piece so I know there will be some errors as I’m new to this, thanks for understanding!

Abuse in any form is not ok. This work is purely for fictional purposes and not to be taken as a representation of a healthy, human relationship.

Please know that help is there if you need it. You’re not alone🖤

Please show some love and support below and let me know what you think. I might do more of these if I get requests or enough people like this one.

Thanks again x

#Spotify #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou #toxic!ellie #angst #ellie the last of us #fanfic #reader insert #fem reader #dark #toxic relationship #the last of us #imagines

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latin5mamii · 5 months ago

Text

Angel -Jude Bellingham

|WARNINGS: none |AUTHOR'S NOTE:I'm loving this fanfic😭 Previous part |SUMMARY:How could you know that a stupid nickname could change everything?

You couldn’t stop thinking about the date,which wasn’t really a date actually.That word never escaped his lips and you knew that this was just a casual meeting with your best friend, that’s all.You spent the whole day thinking about a good outfit,which wasn’t easy, of course.

You didn’t want to appear too elegant but also not too much casual,so you decided for a mini skirt and an embroidered black top,your favorite heels that weren’t too high, you weren’t a really tall girl, just right in the middle, but a pair of heels wouldn’t hurt anyone, he would still be higher than you;you then thought about wavy hair and some makeup. You then added the right amount of jewelry and surely you couldn’t forget your favorite perfume, now you’re finally ready and a texts lets your phone vibrate.

Jude:You ready?I’m here

You felt your heart racing and your cheeks becoming hotter, it’s just a normal date, right?

:Yes i’ll be out there in a second

You gave yourself a last look at the mirror and you felt a sense of joy and butterflies in your stomach.You didn’t care if it was a date or not, you only wanted to be with him honestly.

As you slid into Jude's car, the radio pulsed with the rhythm of "Eyes Without a Face." The haunting melody, with its lyrics about a love unseen, seemed to echo the unspoken desires swirling between you. You stole a glance at Jude, finding him already looking at you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"So," he finally spoke, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine, "where would you like to go, Angel?"

The nickname, a relic of your childhood, brought a warmth to your cheeks. "There's this great little jazz bar downtown," you suggested, surprised at your own boldness. "They have live music and amazing food."

A slow smile, genuine and heart-stopping, spread across Jude's face. "Perfect. I know just the place."

The drive was a whirlwind of comfortable silences punctuated by playful banter. You told him about your favorite childhood prank, and he countered with a story about a disastrous attempt to impress a girl with his soccer skills. When he chuckled at your teasing about his youthful clumsiness, a playful glint lit up his eyes.

"You know," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "you could have saved me a lot of trouble back then if you'd just let me impress you instead."

You scoffed, but a blush crept up your neck. "Impress me? With what, tripping over your own shoelaces?"

He feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. "Hey! Those were some fancy footwork maneuvers gone wrong."

By the time you pulled up to the jazz bar, tucked away on a quiet side street, laughter lines had etched themselves around your eyes. The smoky intimacy of the place, with its thrumming melody and warm candlelight, felt like stepping into a bygone era.

The hostess, a woman with a knowing smile and a mane of silver hair, greeted Jude by name. "Jude! Good to see you again. We've saved you a booth in the back."

He winked at you, a silent promise of a private corner. The booth, nestled against a brick wall adorned with photographs of jazz legends, was bathed in a warm glow. You settled in, feeling an electricity crackle in the air.

The menu, presented on a worn leather-bound cover, promised a delectable array of dishes. As you debated your options, you caught Jude stealing glances at your outfit.

"That top is amazing," he said, his voice a low murmur. "The embroidery is beautiful."

You felt a blush creep up your neck again. "Thanks," you mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Actually, my mom gave it to me."

He raised an eyebrow playfully. "Your mom has impeccable taste. See, even without shoelaces, I manage to impress sometimes."

With every playful jab and shared secret, the tension between you crackled. It was a tension that mirrored the song playing softly in the background, a song that spoke of love and longing, a perfect reflection of your own unspoken feelings.

When dessert arrived, a decadent chocolate mousse that Jude insisted you share with him, a playful tug-of-war ensued over the spoon. Laughter filled the air as you both ended up with chocolate smeared on your smiles.

"Gotcha," Jude chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You swiped a bit of chocolate from his cheek with your thumb, savoring the warmth of his touch. "Seems like the only one getting impressed tonight is me, Mr. Soccer Star."

A playful glint lit up Jude's eyes as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Well, Angel," he murmured, "consider this round one. There's plenty of time for you to get even more impressed later."

The heat in his gaze flustered you, and you quickly looked down at the lingering chocolate on your fingers. You knew you should probably steer the conversation back to safe territory, but the playful banter felt exhilarating, a stark contrast to the nervous energy that had simmered between you earlier.

Just then, the melody shifted, the smoky saxophone giving way to a sultry female vocalist. The lyrics, filled with promises of forever and declarations of burning love, hung heavy in the air. You stole a glance at Jude, wondering if the song mirrored the unspoken emotions swirling within him too.

"This song reminds me of something," he said, his voice a low rumble.

A nervous flutter took flight in your stomach. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

He leaned back in the booth, a thoughtful expression on his face. "There was this girl, back when we were just kids, who used to climb trees and get stuck. The same girl who'd get mad at her brother for calling her Angel."

His words sent a jolt through you. A playful smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "Sounds like someone has a good memory."

"The best," he replied, his gaze locking with yours. "Especially the memory of how brave she was, and kind, and beautiful..." He paused, his voice trailing off, leaving the rest unspoken.

The air crackled with unspoken tension, the weight of his words hanging heavy between you. You felt your cheeks burning under his intense gaze. Was he confessing his childhood feelings for you? Or was he simply reminiscing?

Before you could voice the question that burned on your tongue, the music swelled, drowning out any further conversation. The vocalist launched into a powerful rendition of a classic love ballad, its lyrics echoing the yearning in your own heart.

Jude reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. A spark shot through you as your eyes met. In that silent moment, a million unspoken emotions hung in the air. The playful banter, the stolen glances, the lingering touches - it all seemed to culminate in this single, electrifying moment.

With a hesitant smile, Jude squeezed your hand gently. "Dance with me, Angel?" he asked, his voice a soft murmur.

Your heart pounded a frantic rhythm against your ribs. This wasn't how you imagined the night would end, but a thrilling anticipation bubbled within you. You couldn't deny the pull you felt towards him, a connection that transcended years of friendship.

With a shy smile, you nodded, allowing him to lead you to the small dance floor tucked away in a corner of the bar. The intimacy of the space, coupled with the soulful melody filling the air, created a bubble around you two.

Jude held you close, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, his cologne sending a familiar scent swirling around you. As you swayed to the music, a comfortable silence settled between you, a comfortable silence that spoke volumes.

The song ended all too soon, the applause of the other patrons breaking the spell. Yet, as you looked into Jude's eyes, you saw a reflection of the same yearning you felt burning within you.

The late-night jazz bar felt a world away now, replaced by the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the car windows. Jude navigated the familiar streets with practiced ease, a comfortable silence settling between you.

The unspoken tension in the air thrummed with a different kind of energy now – a hopeful anticipation for what might lie ahead. You stole a glance at Jude, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. His lips were curved in a thoughtful smile, and you couldn't help but wonder if it mirrored the one playing on your own lips.

As he pulled up in front of your apartment building, a pang of disappointment shot through you. The night had flown by, and the thought of saying goodbye so soon felt unbearable.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to him, your voice barely a whisper.

"Would you like to come in?" you blurted out, surprised by your own boldness.

His eyes widened in surprise, then a slow smile spread across his face. "I'd like that very much, angel."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

#x reader #fanfic #cute #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham my man #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #friends to lovers #childhood #jazz music #flirting #yn fanfic

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

Text

a collection of soft moments with rafe

words: 2.4k

warnings: none?, rafe being kinda desperate... okay maybe really desperate in the last one

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv

“i was tryin' to fly but i couldn't find wings.” you sing along to the song, swaying slightly as you finish cleaning off the table, ears perking up when you hear the door open and close, signaling that rafe just got home, but you continued your clean, “but you came along and you changed everything.”

you feel rafe’s hands on your hips suddenly, making you jump, not realizing over the music that he had entered the room.

“you lift my feet off the ground.” taylor’s voice continues to sing from the speakers as rafe turns you in his hold. your hands instinctively go to his shoulders, smiling up at him as rafe starts to sway along to the music. “you spin me around.”

at the lyric, rafe begins to slowly spin you around the room, looking down at you with the most genuine look of love in his eyes that you’ve ever seen.

“i love you.” you mouth to rafe, not wanting to interrupt the song with your words as he pulls you closer to him, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"feels like i'm fallin' and i'm lost in your eyes. you make me crazier, crazier, crazier."

“don’t we have to leave like right now rafe?” you ask, rushing to his closet when he asked you to pick out his outfit for him. one of his favorite things to do is pick out what you’re going to wear, especially for a night out with him, and he likes to reserve the favor for you too.

“we can be late.” rafe says, still in just a pair of gray sweatpants, while you’re completely ready in a simple deep blue dress, chosen of course by your boyfriend.

you sift through his shirts, having one in mind, a blue patterned button down that would match your dress. you finally find it and pull it out, handing it to rafe to put on while you find a pair of pants that would fit the color scheme.

you watch as rafe dresses, looking to you for approval. you frown. there’s nothing particularly wrong with the outfit, but it’s just not pulling together for you.

“hold on.” you hum, knowing you should be moving faster so you can get to your event, but you honestly are enjoying playing dress up using rafe.

“try this.” you toss him a new shirt, but again it doesn’t spark anything in you.

“put on your black shoes, i’ve got another in mind.” you turn back to his drawer, hoping that the light blue shirt you’re thinking of is complementary to your own dress.

you find it on the bottom of the drawer, and hold it up happily to rafe. “look! it’s perfect!” you know before he even tries it on that it’ll go perfectly with what you’re wearing.

rafe pulls the shirt over his shoulders, but you stop his hands from doing the buttons as you take over for him, tongue sticking out of your mouth slightly in concentration as your fingers work on the tiny button.

you leave the top two undone, the event not being too formal, and liking the peak of skin. “perfect.” you say, looking at the two of you standing next to each other in the mirror.

“thank you baby.” rafe says, looping his arm around your waist. “i love spending time with you.”

you feel your cheeks flare red as you blush at his words. “all i did was get you dressed.” you try to deflect his words.

“i know and i loved it.” rafe presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“hm.” rafe says, “can you change your shoes?” you look down at your sandals, taking them off and putting a pair of converse instead. “you know, if you just told me where we were going i would be able to pick out a better pair of shoes.” “good try, baby.” rafe smiles, taking your hand as you head out the door, to whatever surprise that rafe has planned.

you get into the car, trying to tell where rafe is taking you by the drive, but it’s out into the country, so you ignore trying to figure out where you’re going and instead just enjoy rafes hand on your thigh and the music playing through the stereo.

“rafe!” you gasp as you see the explosion of colors on the road ahead. “you did not!” “i did.” rafe says cockily, obviously expecting your excited reaction.

“i cannot believe you actually brought me flower picking.” you lean over as rafe parks, pressing kisses to his cheek. “you’re the best boyfriend ever.” “i know.” rafe laughs, putting the car into park and turning his head to let you kiss him, lips pushing together in a display thats a bit overly passionate for the parking lot, but you’re just so happy that your usually closed off to the world boyfriend becomes a total sweetheart just for you.

“don’t you dare open your car door.” rafe says, pulling away from the kiss. you just smile as he rounds the car, opening your door and helping you out.

you take a deep breath of the flower scented air, eyes looking over all the different rows of brightly colored flowers.

“come on, we gotta get our jar and scissors.” rafe takes your hand in his, leading you towards the booth. there’s only a few other people picking flowers today, so there’s no line when you approach and rafe quickly pays.

“alright, baby, i already know you’re thinking about what you want.” rafe laughs, knowing he’s not really there for choosing the style of the bouquet you make, rather to be the one to cut the stems for you and hold everything.

“mmm, i’m really feeling like an orangey-red-yellow color palette.” you say, heading towards the flowers with rafe following close behind.

“rafe! come here!” you call out to him, and you hear his rapid footsteps as he runs into the bathroom.

“are you okay?” he asks, eyes searching for any sort of potential danger you might be in.

“i’m fine, rafey!” you say, waving your hands as if that’s going to dissuade his worry and take it all away.

rafe comes to where you’re standing in front of the mirror, pressing you into the sink as he pushes his chest into your back. “you scared me.” “sorry, baby.” you hum, picking up a packet from off the sink. “want to do a facemask with me?” “is this what you called me in here for?” rafe questions, looking at the plastic package in your hand.

“mhm. i’m doing one too, it’ll be fun.” rafe sighs, burying his head in your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your bare skin, glad that you’re only wearing a tanktop so he has more access. he considers saying no, but he just can’t deny you what you want.

“fine, but no pictures and don’t tell anyone about this. ever.”

you squeal in happiness, ripping open the package and directing rafe to bend down that way you can place the sheet mask on his face, choosing a brightening one for him while you’re going to go for hydrating.

you giggle seeing your boyfriend, who plenty people consider scary, in the skincare. he glances in the mirror with a frown.

“you look super cute.” you say. “now let me put my mask on then we can sit on the bed and watch tv until it’s time to take them off.”

“what is all this for?” rafe questions, not expecting to come home to the counters filled with baked goods.

“oh perfect timing!” you say, heading over to rafe and giving him a quick kiss on the lips in greeting.

you place your hands on his shoulders, steering him towards the island. “sit down, i need you to taste test everything for me.” “i would be more than happy to do that baby but um-” he pauses, eyes once again moving over the multitude of cupcakes decorated in different ways, along with cookies and some pastries he doesn’t know the name of.

“oh, right!” you giggle, placing a cupcake in front of him. “i decided to enter a baking competition.” “really?” rafe asks, peeling the wrapper off a cupcake and taking a bite, his eyebrows shooting up. “well, you’re definitely going to win, this is delicious.” “really? be honest rafe, don’t just say that because i’m your girlfriend.” rafe shakes his head, taking another bite. “no seriously babe.” you let out a little squeal in happiness, clapping your hands together as rafe chews more. “okay, but stop eating that, you’re going to get full and i have a lot more i need you to try.”

you take the plate holding the cupcake away from rafe, sliding a different pastry in front of him. rafe eats it, again complimenting you as you cycle through the different things you’ve made while he was away.

“here, this is a pumpkin puff pastry.” you give him the next dessert.

rafe happily takes a bite, but his face suddenly twists. he covers it up quickly, but not before you’re able to tell.

“you don’t like it?” you ask, and rafes heart breaks at your big eyes looking at him, so upset.

“no, it’s really good, i just-” rafe grabs the glass of water you got him, taking a sip to wash down the treat.

“i just am not a fan of pumpkin.” rafes words don’t seem to make you feel any better, so he turns on his stool and pulls you into him, placing your body in between his legs.

“princess, i’ve loved everything you made, you’re absolutely going to win this baking competition, gorgeous.” “you really think so?” you ask, reaching your hands up to play with the collar of rafes shirt.

“of course.” he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “now whats next for me to try?” rafe asks, even though his stomach hurts from how much he’s eaten.

rafe presses another kiss to your cheek, making you look up from the book your reading. “what is it baby?” “nothing.” rafe shakes his head, but takes the now closed book out of your hands and sets it on the coffee tables. you can’t hold back a giggle as he takes your hands and brings it up to his face.

“do you want some attention?” you ask, rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks.

“mmm.” rafe just hums, closing his eyes as he finally gets what he wants. you scooch over on the couch so you’re sitting closer to him, your thighs pressing together.

you move a hand up to play with rafes hair, making him drop his head against the couch, cheek pressing into the cushion. you lean forward and kiss the tip of his nose, admiring his blissed out face now that you’ve finally got your hands on him.

“gimme a kiss.” rafe says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

you melt into his body, enjoying the soft knitted sweater he’s wearing and the way it feels against you.

you press your lips against rafes, letting him take the lead in the slow and easy kiss, taking pleasure in the way his lips glide over yours.

you pull away after a minute, resting your head against rafes forehead. it’s a rare moment of complete peace, where rafe is calm and relaxed. you hate to break it, but you eventually stand up, giving him another kiss on the lips.

“where are you going?” rafe asks, reaching out and tugging on your hand.

“i’m going to go take a shower.” you say, feeling gross with your oily hair, plus, you really need to shave, the prickly hairs are starting to bother you.

“okay, i’ll join you.” rafe stands up to follow you, but you place your hands on his chest with a shake of the head.

“usually, i’d love for you to join me, but i’ve got… girly stuff to do.” you decide that it’s a good enough explanation, but of course it doesn’t dissuade rafe.

“okay and?” he deadpans, making you roll your eyes.

“just not this time, rafe.” you start to walk away, up the stairs to your bedroom, but rafe is right on your tail.

you decide to ignore him, heading into the bathroom and beginning your shower prep, deciding to do a hair mask while you shave, getting out your razor and creme from the counter underneath the sink.

“i’ll turn the water on for us.” rafe makes a point of using the pronoun.

“baby.” you groan, placing your products on the shower bench. “i don’t want you to just stand there and watch me shave! i love you but i need a minute alone, okay?” “fine.” rafe leaves the room quickly, swinging the door shut behind him. you sigh and rub your eyes, but turn the water on to heat up.

time passes quickly as you go through your extended shower routine, your phone playing music from it’s place on the sink counter. you finish up, feeling completely refreshed and clean. you pull the robe rafe got you around your body and head out of the bathroom.

“rafe?” you gasp, seeing him sitting on the floor next to your bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, head slumped forward.

“baby!” he picks his head up suddenly, but you can still read his emotions how upset he is.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you kneel down in front of him, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. his eyes are ever so slightly red and you wonder if he’s been rubbing at them or if he’s been crying.

“i-” rafe takes a deep breath, “i hate being away from you.” “oh, honey.” you heart breaks, and you lean forward to wrap your arms around rafes shoulders, who drops his knees so you can get closer. “if i would have known it was that big of a deal, i would have let you shower with me, i just didn’t think you actually wanted to see me like shave and stuff.”

“next time you’ll let me in?” rafe asks in a soft voice that breaks your heart.

“of course.” you take his face in your hands, angling it to press a kiss to his lips. “i love you.”

the spark in rafes eye is finally back. “i love you too.”

#writing ghostface rafe so this was a refreshing break from that lol #needed to get out of him being a LITERAL SERIAL KILLER and write some cute bf rafey lol #rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron blurb #rafe fanfiction #rafe one shot #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x you

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muschiettistrashmouth · 7 months ago

Text

Push, Push - Egon Spengler | Ghostbusters

Warnings: SMUT!!! There's some time since I last wrote some smut, so... yeah

Requested? No

Words: 1231

Summary: Reader is dancing and all Egon wanna do is fuck her right there.

For those who thought that Egon was not sexually active because he was so focused on the laboratory, they were completely wrong. Ever since he started dating the fifth member of Ghostbusters, he started to loosen up more. Going out with friends more to the bar, even though he wasn't 100% sure that it was something he loved doing, but if it made his girlfriend happy, he was happy too.

This was one of those nights, where Egon was at the bar table with the other ghostbusters, his hand was lovingly holding y/n's, and he was having a friendly discussion about how they were getting on with their individual jobs now that they weren't ghostbusting anymore.

The bar's radio was tuned to the 1986 charts, when a song by the band Cinderella started playing. Push, Push was a song that y/n really liked, whether to sing or to tease Egon with the completely suggestive lyrics. She got up from where she was and dragged Winston's girlfriend with her to dance nearby where more people were dancing. With each beat of the song, her hips moved sensually, making Egon swallow hard. It's not like he was paying attention to what Ray and Peter were saying at that moment.

Winston was drinking his beer while facing his girlfriend, Cinthia, across the bar, raised his glass in a sort of toast and smiled. The scientist swallowed again, his glasses were slipping down his nose and he felt his pants tighten more than they already were. Every moment the girl danced, the harder he became. It was like a spell.

“Egon has gone bye-bye, Ray.” Peter mocked his friend who kept his mouth half open still in shock.

“Spengz?” Ray passed his hand in the air in front of Egon's eyes, making the man shake his head to wake up from the trance and look at the smaller boy.

“Yes, Ray?”

“You’re drooling.” He mocked Egon with a laugh when the older man put his hand over his mouth to wipe away some saliva that obviously wasn't there.

The scientist rolled his eyes at the joke.

“You’re as funny as that comedian ghost we faced a few days after we saved the world from complete destruction.” He said in one breath before his girlfriend returned to the table, breathing heavily.

“What are we talking about?”

“About how funny Ray is, apparently.” Winston laughed, opening his arms to accommodate his own girlfriend.

“It’s a little late, don’t you think?” Egon asked, completely changing the subject. His girlfriend's hand was resting on his thigh as she used her free hand to bring her glass to her mouth, taking a sip of her beer.

“Okay, we have to wake up early tomorrow.” y/n he said innocently. “I have to visit my parents and Egon is going with me.”

Egon raised his hand to get the waiter's attention, mentally thanking the table for covering anything that could embarrass him at that moment.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

When they entered the house, Egon wasted no time in pinning her against the wall, closing the door with his foot.

“Wow, calm down, big guy.” The girl's voice contained a tone of laughter in the background as Egon's mouth explored his neck. “What got you like this?”

“As if you didn’t know…” The brunette murmured against the her ear, leaving her with goosebumps.

“Was it the dancing?” She held back her laughter, this wasn't the time to make him think she was laughing at him. He just shook his head positively, he didn't trust his voice to speak.

She bit her lower lip, running her hands down Egon's chest to the waistband of his pants and pulling him impossibly closer.

“Do something about it then, Dr Spengler.” Now she was on tiptoe, speaking into the scientist's ear. The man picked her up and took her to the room they shared, with each step she took, she felt more and more how hard he was.

“Egon-” her voice was no more than a sigh. Anything the man did drove her crazy.

Egon took the heels off her feet with all the delicacy in the world, that was one of the things that the girl loved so much about him, the delicacy he had with her, even though he was as desperate as he was.

She spread her legs with her feet against the mattress, her skirt riding up and getting around her thighs, giving him a full view of her wet panties and thighs. The scientist held her by the thighs, leaving light kisses on the area, sometimes he left bites there, making her gasp.

“Please…” She pouted as she stared at him between her legs. That was her mistake, as he was looking her straight in the eyes when she ran her tongue over his soaked panties.

"Fuck!" He smiled sideways, holding the cloth to the side to access the wet intimacy more precisely. He might seem shy at first, but the man was a god in bed, all the anatomy books and magazines that Peter had lent him when he was in college made him understand the subject like no one else. The girl's moans filled the room, her hand pulling Egon's hair tightly as he devoured her like a starving man. When he felt that she was almost giving in completely to orgasm, Egon removed his face from where it was, getting up from the bed to quickly take off his clothes.

He threw all the pieces of clothing anywhere on the floor, his tomorrow self could take care of that alone, and climbed back onto the bed to help her take off her blouse and bra. His smile grew wider when he saw her breasts exposed.

He left a small hickey on each of her nipples and took off her clothes again, finally leaving her completely naked.

“I could live with this vision every day.” He commented before kissing her, letting her taste herself in his mouth.

The girl's hand crept between their bodies until she found the man's pulsing member and guided it to her entrance. He entered slowly so as not to hurt her, it was no wonder she called him big boy.

As he entered her completely, Egon pressed his temple against her neck, waiting until she told him to move when she was ready to do so. When she moved on the bed, he got the message, starting to move his hips quickly against her. They both moaned as if they didn't have neighbors, at this point it didn't matter.

“I'm almost there-” she was breathless, one of her hands grabbed the back of his head, while the other scratched his back. Egon thrust a few more times against her intimacy, his thumb moving against her clitoris as she liked best.

“Cum for me, baby.” He murmured against her ear with a completely hoarse voice, making her let out a little scream when he finally came. Egon spilled himself inside her almost at the same time, leaving a small bite on a part of her neck that he knew she could cover with her hair.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

When they were finally lying in bed, her head on his chest while he caressed her arm, she began to laugh softly.

“I need to dance to this song more often if this is going to be your reaction every time…”

#fandom imagines #ghostbusters #egon spengler #egon spengler x reader #egon spengler smut #ghostbusters smut #Spotify

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madelynraemunson · 8 months ago

Note

i neeeed you to hear me out on this one okay. okay okay so the song is casual by chappell roan and its about like being super intimate w a guy but he still tells his friends you're just a casual fuck. like some of the lyrics are "i've heard so many rumors that i'm just a girl that you bang on your couch" and "knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out, is it casual now?" so like. eddie munson. angst. and reader whos fed up with him being so cocky to his friends ab how he gets her off while he brushes her off. PLEASE hear me out 🫣

IM HEARING YOU ALL THE WAY OUT 😩😩🗣️

(as someone who dated a literal INCEL in high school who was charismatic to all and manipulative to none but me this fucking triggered me. i see you boo)

CW: misogynist behavior, adult themes, 18+ minors DNI

eddie sweetie, this isn't you :( but without further a due...

"If you have to go around telling people that you're a good person, you probably aren’t a good person."

incel!asshole!modern!eddie x fem!innocent!reader

WC: 1.3k words | part two here

Ever since you became exclusive with the ‘Town Freak’, your friends have constantly been ripping your ass a new one.

They were all so wrong about Eddie Munson. Because beneath the rugged, edgy persona he likes to put on every day (spewing his ‘Abolish-The-Status-Quo’ Manifesto atop an unsteady table in the cafeteria) lies a woman-worshipping gentleman, a soft, romantic, misunderstood love-sick puppy who would do just about anything to know you like the back of his hand.

Your dream boy.

"No one ever wants to date the nice guy," Eddie would say to you, alluding to himself. You’d constantly deny his claim. “But the jocks? The rabbits in band? The chess club dweebs? Oh yeah, without a doubt. Anyone but the freak."

It all made you think Eddie was created perfectly for you. That there was some sort of invisible string in the halls of Hawkins High, waiting for just the right moment to pull you two together. And when you two kissed that one day after detention, his hands snaked gently around your waist behind the rusty, faded bleachers out by the stadium, it felt like a match made in heaven.

“You gonna be my girl?” Eddie grinned into you, stroking your cheek, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Mine and mine only?”

“Yours,” you whispered breathlessly to him before reeling him in for another blissful peck.

And soon, lonely afternoons in study hall turned into D&D campaigns with him and his friends. Mundane weekend errands turned into fishing trips with him and Wayne. And soon quiet, anxious car rides became karaoke and head-banging sessions. Once aimless and confused, lost in the melody of life, suddenly all the love songs were about Eddie. You finally found the one.

It all leads you to believe your friends were just jealous of you. True friends would be over the moon.

This afternoon you had a surprise for Eddie. Just last week, you lost your virginity to him and were still swooning over how caring and tender he was with you. Surely, that is the bare minimum for a guy, but the bare minimum is so hard to come by nowadays. Cookies for Discord night with his friends was the least you can do to show how much you appreciate your boyfriend.

After extracurriculars, you rush home to get the oven going, throwing down in the kitchen to make the best snickerdoodles Eddie will ever have. And after one last look in the mirror, fixing your flirty skirt and your plump glossy lips, you set off to Forrest Hills Trailer Park.

Eddie has his headset on so he doesn’t hear your multiple knocks at the door. You knew he would be home though, dude’s got nowhere else to be on a Friday night. Eventually, you decide to hobble out back, looking through one of the windows by the kitchen that he always cracked open just so he doesn’t hotbox the place.

“I’m right behind you, right behind you!” Eddie warns his friends as he nears them in the game. “Gonna need some backup from Gareth the Great.”

Since he’s focused on his electronics, you decide to shoot him a text message. Hopefully then he’ll come to the door.

Hi baby 💕 I brought you some homemade snickerdoodles :)

You can’t help but smile when you hear your custom text-tone go off. But, to your surprise, you watch as Eddie turns a blind eye, chucking his phone onto the nearby couch instead of answering your text.

What the fuck?

"Ugh. She's texting me again," your boyfriend grumbles to the boys as he proceeds with the game. "She's kinda annoying, to be honest. Gonna wait a while before I respond.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Pressing your ear against the mesh blinds that separated you two from each other, you decide to listen in for a while longer.

“Don’t you think you’re stringing her along, Eds?”

Yeah, don’t you think? you think to yourself.

“Yeah, but… free pink,” Eddie sneers with a tsk and shrug. “However I want, whenever I want. She just makes it so easy.”

Eddie then starts to spill the details of taking your virginity, about how you were “chimping out” underneath him on his couch while Wayne was sleeping. What was a sacred ordeal to you was made to sound like a cheap, subpar experience to Eddie. His commentary sends the boys into a spiral, fits of hooting and hollering like it was the best stand-up bit they’ve heard in a long time. Resentment simmers within you. This can’t be the same boy.

“How’d you get a pretty girl like that anyway?” comes another voice in the call.

“Pretty fucking easy,” Eddie scoffs. “You just tell her exactly what she wants to hear. Just say what she says right back to her and the panties come right off. She’ll think you’re soulmates.”

The room erupts with virtual laughter, followed by obnoxious sound effects that the app enables users to send to one another. Your stomach begins to twist, the forbidden cookie dough you ingested just an hour prior threatening to make its way back up.

“HAHAHA,” someone in the chat cackles. “Eds will do anything for that roast beef.”

“I’ve always been keen on them deli meats. Am I right, boys?”

The snickering commences again. Eddie thanks the Discord guys as they extol him in compliments, encouraging him to write a playbook on how to get a proper lay. Eddie ends up shutting down the idea. But not because he thinks it’s fucked. No. It’s because he claims he doesn’t “have to try” and that you just “put out” at the drop of a hat.

The tray of Eddie’s undeserved cookies shakes in your hands as your body begins to tremble. You’re going to be sick. And just when you think it can’t get anymore twisted, it does.

“Hey, what do you think about that girl from math class with the fat ass?”

“Harmony?”

“Yeah.”

“God if she’s into me too I’d dump my girl in a heartbeat,” Eddie swoons.

Of course he’d gawk over Harmony. Outside of Tammy Thompson and Chrissy Cunningham, Harmony Heathers was next up to bat for the Queen of Hawkins High.

“She’s got fucking beanbags where her ass should be. I’d do just about anything for her.”

“And her.”

“Yeah and I’d do her.”

"I'd do her too," Eddie admits.

That’s enough.

You’ve heard enough to know that Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was just like the rest. Throwing the snickerdoodle cookies you made for him into the trash, you sprint back to your car and set off for your house, music blaring the entirety of the commute.

My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around

I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

You slam the door to your room the moment you get home. And before stripping down and hopping into the safety of a warm shower, you send Eddie one last text.

Actually, you know what? It’s over. Don’t talk to me ever again.

Washing the grossness off of you was the only way you felt you could feel okay.

You wanted the remnants of Eddie OFF of your body. Hysterically sobbing, you attempt scrub off all the dead skin on your body with a loofah. Frustrated tears roll down your face.

I thought you thought of me better, Someone you couldn't lose

You wanted all the dead cells off of you. You wanted a new body. You wanted a new life.

And you couldn’t wait to grow newer, thicker skin. A new shell of you. It will be skin that Eddie can never say he touched.

You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss,

Fuck Eddie Munson.

I have anger issues

You give the weird kid a chance, and then suddenly he acts like you’re the freak.

#eddie munson angst #maddy’s mailbox ✨#EDDIE THIS ISN'T YOU #eddie munson one shot #angsty blurb #eddie munson x reader #maddy’s requests 🍸

335 notes · View notes

souperbloom · 1 year ago

Text

being in love. [A.I.]

loosely based on lyrics of the song with the same title, by Wet Leg.

roadie! reader x Ashton

in which you realize your feelings for your boss are a lot more detrimental than you thought they were.

this was supposed to be short and i went overboard. oops! enjoy my first post :^)

CONTENT WARNINGS: tension/slight mental angst, mentions of weed smokin', sex in a somewhat public place/exhibitionism, teasing, fingering(f!receiving), dirty talk, degradation, straight up p in v, insinuation of a creampie, porn with plot basically, filth, filth, FILTH (there is something seriously wrong with me).

WORDCOUNT: 7.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You couldn’t fucking stand him.

As much as you wanted to believe that statement, your heart, mind, and soul found every which way to make you believe otherwise.

The days you spent with him dragged on. His over the top personality was like a vacuum cleaner that sucked every ounce of life out of you.

And yet, despite your annoyance with his ability to charm his way towards your demise, the days without him felt like a lifetime.

Since the first time you and Ashton hooked up, all you were able to think about, after the fact, were the things that you really shouldn’t have been.

Almost every night without missing a beat, you’d lie awake in bed; staring off at the ceiling through your post-show exhaustion and reminiscing on the hours you’ve spent with him. Sneaking off between down times and show times. For a quick and casual fuck.

You’d think about his terrible jokes, the little speckles of brown lost between the hues of green in his eyes, or his ability to make you feel like nothing in the best possible way.

You thought about them. You thought about him. All in hopes that one day, you’d think about him so hard that he would just vanish.

It was reverse psychology, you thought, a way to turn that fluttering feeling you get when you’re around him into something a little less existential, and more like you had both originally intended.

Something more casual.

You didn’t like the fact that he had this effect on you. He was about as brutish and irritating as the day is long. When it was just the two of you, you wished more than anything that he would stop being so damn’ sweet and charismatic. The thought of him calling you nicknames and whispering sweet nothings in your ear made you want to curl up and die.

But the vital organ pumping blood through your veins begged to differ.

Whenever he was around, the pounding of your heart against your ribcage was so deafening, you were almost certain that he could hear it.

It felt strange to wake up, to lie down, to close your eyes and think about anything else. You couldn’t even eat without the thought of him stirring up nausea in your stomach. It was almost as if nothing you did could satisfy you. Nothing you did was right.

Because any time without him felt so wrong.

There were moments in which you wondered whether or not he could feel it too. You'd catch him staring at you from across the dressing room, his eyes lingering down your frame for a millisecond longer than normal.

But you're never quite able to figure it out. To figure him out. He was a thousand piece puzzle, and you were stuck looking for the last piece between the couch cushions.

"Yo, earth to Y/N. Did we lose ya' again?"

Your trance is broken by the sound of Calum's voice. You had been so wrapped up in your own pity-party that you had completely forgotten that you were in the middle of a conversation.

"Jeez, are we really that boring?" Luke laughs out, leaning back in his seat, "I thought our conversation about green tea was quite compelling."

"Sorry, sorry..." You try to snap yourself out of whatever God forsaken rut you've dug yourself into, covering up the awkward silence with the clearing of your throat. "...I guess I don't like green tea as much as I thought I did."

"I'm with Y/N on this one. Green tea is fucking disgusting." Michael comes to your rescue with his reply, which practically had you kissing his shoes as a thank you for saving my ass.

"You guys clearly have no taste. It's simple." Luke shrugs, taking a sip of his ice water. "I know if Ashton was here he'd be on our side, right Cal?"

Calum nods his head, "Speaking of Ashton... where the fuck is he? He said he'd meet us..." he pauses his sentence to look at his phone, "...like, an hour ago."

The pit of your stomach lurches at Calum's observation. He was right. Ashton had said he'd be down in the lounge... after he took a quick shower.

But then again, a quick shower was one of those double entendres in you and Ashton's world. Was he waiting for you? Did you misread his subtle glance after he walked right past you when you tried to hand him his water?

Or maybe that wasn't the case. Maybe you’re just overthinking things.

Maybe he just looked at you because he's your boss and you're his roadie; who he just so happens to fuck from time to time.

That's all it was. That's all it ever will be.

"I can go look for him?" You blurt, immediately wanting to smack yourself in the face for sounding so small.

"You don't have to do that, Y/N. He'll find his way down eventually." Michael sighs.

"He's like a ghost, dude... He disappears for hours. Doesn't answer his phone. Then suddenly, POOF, he appears out of thin air. It's fuckin' witchcraft, I think..."

Calum's comment earns a roaring laugh from the rest of the guys, but you weren't at all laughing. You were too busy debating walking out of the door and hoping they wouldn't notice you were gone.

"I don't think I believe in ghosts..."

Another dumbass conversation ensues.

"Are you kidding?! Since when did you stop believing in ghosts?!" Luke seems genuinely offended by Michael's admission.

And yet, you were stuck there. Wanting to rip your hair out as a giant cloud of sex-driven frustration rained down on you.

"Speaking of ghosts," you can't help but interject, speaking a little louder than you had originally anticipated, "I think I’m gonna go look for Ashton. He's probably off haunting the bar down in the lobby…"

"Well, if you insist," Calum says, saluting you, "good luck, ghost hunter."

As you exited the lounge with no issue and let the boys be boys, you thought to yourself.

Hm, getting out of there was a lot easier than I had anticipated.

But what you hadn't anticipated was the sheer speed in which your feet would pound against the floorboards once you started off down the hall. For you knew just where to look for him.

You were on a mission. A mission to find Ashton, in hopes that he could be the one to free you of the confines of your frustration. In the best way you both knew how.

Once you made it to the elevator corridor, you had to take a moment. To collect yourself and think... what the fuck are you doing?

Did you really think that fucking Ashton would get your mind off of the romantic connection you so desperately craved in him? Did you really think this was the best idea you've ever had?

The answer was no. You knew that this whole ordeal would dig your metaphorical grave ten feet deeper. But you honestly didn't have the energy to care. This witch hunt has turned into merely a way to get off.

Just like God intended.

You step into the elevator, already knowing your way around this hotel like the back of your hand after only being stationed here for a few days.

As the elevator made its' trip up to the rooftop, your senses were heightened. The elevator dings sounded like sirens and the climbing of floors was pushing down on you, making you feel as though the oxygen in your lungs was being forced out by the altitude change.

Your symptoms couldn't be explained by anything other than Ashton, as much as you hated to admit it. It was typical for you to feel this way whenever you answered to his beckoning call.

Just a quick and casual fuck. Quick. And casual.

You tried to focus your mind on those two words. Forcing your conscious out of habit and tricking yourself into believing them.

But as soon as the elevator door slid open, those two words were nothing but dust in the wind.

All you could see in the darkness of the twinkling summer sky was the curve of Ashton's shoulder, highlighted slightly by the patio lights. He was looking out past the glass that surrounded the rooftop, off into the New York City skyline.

You froze up upon seeing him, barely managing to step across the elevator threshold without vomiting all over your shoes.

There were remnants of smoke lingering in the air around him, a familiar, earthy smell touching your nose upon piecing your two senses together.

Before you could tell your brain to step forward, Ashton's head turns to face you. You finally get a look at him, a good look at him.

And fuck, did he look divine.

His hair was partially wet, rogue curls hanging lowly on his forehead with that post show gleam still laced throughout his features. He scratches at the stubble on his chin, a droplet of water dripping down his temple upon doing so.

"Y/N," he leered, the blank expression that once painted his face now lifting into a smirk.

"Ashton," you reply; although small talk is the last thing you wished to be having at the moment.

"Where've ya' been?" he asks, leaning his arm to rest against the back of the couch he was sprawled out on.

"The lounge... The guys are down there waiting for you, y'know." You try to divert the attention away from yourself. But you knew for a fact that you were the only thing on his mind right now.

His eyes scan your body. Up, and down. Up, and down. Like he was stuck in some sort of trance. "Well, that's funny, isn't it. Because I've been up here… waiting for you."

You fuckin’ knew it.

"And how was I supposed to know that?"

He pauses, thumbing at his chin, "I'm not sure, actually... 'Thought you would've had me figured out by now."

It was taking everything inside of you not to run over there and smack the shit out of him for being such a snarky asshole. But you were well aware of the dynamic between you two; this type of banter wasn't out of the ordinary.

"You just gonna stand there and stare at me, honey?" Ashton remarks, calling you by that nickname that makes your stomach hurt and revealing his hand from behind the couch; a lit and half-smoked joint plucked between his fingertips.

Without another word, you walk over to him, slowly starting to display more and more of his body laid out on the couch.

He had on a loosely fitting Hawaiian shirt, one of the ones with only half the normal amount of buttons, and a pair of grey sweatpants. To contradict the tone of the outfit and make it totally clear to you where his head was at when he put them on.

The Hawaiian shirt hung off of his shoulders, revealing his collarbone decked out in beaded necklaces and braided silver chains.

You wanted more than anything to take those chains between your teeth as he hovered over you, pinning you down and fucking into you like you were the last two people on Earth.

Sidetracked, Y/N. You’re getting sidetracked.

When it came to hooking up, you and Ashton had discovered a natural rhythm. A routine, of sorts, consisting of unspoken demands and a whole lot of Ashton holding the reins.

No need to give orders, or ask for more. You both knew what you wanted and exactly how to get it.

But that routine so deeply instilled in you had seemed to vanish as soon as you stepped in front of him.

Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you teetered from side to side, just admiring Ashton in all of his residually high glory. You wanted to say something, but couldn't bring yourself to say anything else but these two words:

"Fuck me."

His eyes widen in shock. Amusement, even. The joint between his fingers dwindling down to the roach and leaving ashes in the wind as he lets out a quiet chuckle.

"Y/N, I—"

You cut him off abruptly, "It wasn't a fucking question, Ash."

You didn't mean to come off so bossily, but at this point you were willing to do anything to forget about the weight that came with having alleged feelings for him.

Even if that something was letting him fuck you until you cried.

"Right here?"

"Yes." Your heart was racing.

"Right now?"

"Yes." Reminiscent of a heart attack.

And then he does something that makes you even more frustrated than you were before this entire ordeal. He looks at you, without a care, and just… shrugs.

“Works for me.”

You hated that. Oh, you fucking hated that. That cocky, ‘devil-may-care’ attitude. It gets you so worked up that you consider winding up your fist and cracking him the jaw.

But you don’t end up going through with your desires to hurt him at all. Instead, you’re pouncing at him. Scrambling to straddle his comfortably spread legs as he pulls you by your cheeks into a heated kiss.

You sigh upon feeling your lips on his, Ashton just as well. The both of you tend to melt into each other’s palms when your lips connect; which is another reason as to why your head was all fucked up and sideways in the first place.

As the kiss between you grows more primal, you find yourself taking out your frustrations and feelings on Ashton’s bottom lip. You sink your teeth into the soft flesh, tugging it down gently towards his chin.

His hands fumble for the button of your jeans, grunting lowly as he struggles to get it undone.

"Fuck— Get these… Get these damn things off…" The remark flies past his lips, and yours, in a disgruntled huff. You do as you’re told, momentarily disconnecting from him.

When you rise to your feet, being held up by weak, unreliable knees, he looks up. That face of amusement was still painted on, mocking you.

Was he still thinking about your desperate demand? Or was he just enjoying the view?

"Someone’s a little greedy tonight," he says, blowing out a breath and running a hand through his fresh, now sweaty, curls.

"I don’t wanna hear shit from you. You’re the greediest motherfucker alive." You tease back at him, undoing your zipper and shimmying out of your jeans.

"I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you, Miss ‘I never know what I want and I need Ashton to tell me’.”

"I knew what I wanted tonight, didn’t I?" His threats were empty, but you were loving it. You loved to tease, loved to be teased.

"That is true,” he sighs, looking down at the roach he had flicked onto the floor. He stomps it out with his steel-toed boot. "But that’s, what, one time—? Out of the however-the-fuck many times we’ve slept together?"

“You’re making this a lot more complicated than it has to be, Ash. Fuckin’ live a little.”

You were now in your t-shirt and underwear out on this rooftop, telling Ashton to live a little while you’re practically caving in on yourself in embarrassment.

"But, honey... why out here? Why right now?" he asks. Genuinely. Almost sweetly.

You didn't want to admit the real reason as to why you were acting so curtly. The embarrassment of sounding desperate and needy was doing numbers on you already.

"Does there always need to be a reason why?"

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling overexposed. But Ashton’s eyes scan down your frame as if there’s no shame left in the world.

"My apologies for seeming hesitant... You know full and well— I’d do you any time, any place.”

"Is that so?” you quip.

"I don’t think you realize how often I think about having you bouncing on my dick while I’m out on stage performing, so— yes, that is so.”

The way he admits this all so casually makes your stomach turn. You knew he was dirty, but not this dirty. You just assumed he knew that there was a time and place for all of these thoughts.

And the fact that he was thinking about you at all wasn’t making this any easier.

"Well?” Ashton snaps your mind out of the gutter. Ironic.

"Well what?"

"You just gonna stand there in your underwear?"

Oh. Right.

After a moment of blundering awkwardness, you walk towards him timidly, feeling as if your soul was freeing itself from your body as he extends his arms out to hold you.

You make your way back into his lap, digging your knees into the cushions comfortably beside his thighs and letting him run his blistered palm down the side of your face.

His bloodshot eyes find yours like a magnet. Your breath is trapped somewhere in your larynx as his hand continues its journey to your neck.

You felt like you were about to burst at the seams, the tension and friction building between you was like a bottle rocket, ready to set off into the sky.

And with that, exactly on cue, your heart is racing, as he cups your throat between ring finger and thumb. Your rattling ribcage was telling him all he needed to know when the pads of his fingers began to squeeze gently.

You close your eyes, "Ashton..."

"Y/N..." He repeats matching your hushed tone, swallowing the lump in his throat as your noses brush together.

His nose grazes yours with fragility and tenderness, his touch as light as a feather. But you couldn’t stand the space between you two. The clear disconnect between your lips and his.

He seemed to be lingering longer than usual. You found yourself wondering what the hell was going on in his head. Since you had clearly told him what you wanted a long time ago.

"Why aren’t you kissing me?" you ask quietly, still so close to his face that his features had gone blurry.

"Could ask you the same question, honey." His breath fans across your face and suddenly you’re reverting back to your old ways. Back before you were so— demanding.

“Well, not to be clichè, but— you’re meant to take the lead here, Ash.” You say it as if it were obvious, but he disagrees.

"Clearly not tonight."

Now, you were stuck.

You came up here to find him for one reason, and one reason only. To fuck him… to get your mind off of him.

But that all sounded a bit complicated, though. Didn’t it?

"Y/N…" He says your name again, reminiscent of pure honey dripping off of his tongue.

"Hm...?"

God, what is with him and saying your name?

"Is there something on your mind?"

You cock your head, "Would you still fuck me if I said no?..."

Ashton’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead.

"…Even if I wasn’t telling the whole truth?"

He backs away from you, giving you a better look at the confused expression laminated across his face.

"You’re a real card, aren’t’cha?”

His confusion melts into a smile, as he removes his hand from your neck to match his other at your waist. "You know I’d never force anything out of you, Y/N. But— just so you know… Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom."

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his terrible cliché, finding your hand lost in his unruly curls. "You’re such an old man."

He winces, "God— please… Don’t put that picture in my head… It’s killing the mood."

In the brief moment of silence and sweetness shared between you and him, it was taking everything inside of you not to scream at the top of your lungs.

You wanted to scream; Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you. Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you… over and over again.

Until it didn’t mean a thing.

"Not gonna lie to you, honey— M’gettin’ impatient." Ashton lets out a deep sigh, his eyes snapping you out of a downward spiral.

"Right, right. I’m sorry—"

You cut yourself short by reconnecting your lips to his. You missed this feeling, even after only a few minutes; something inside of you dies every time you pull away from him.

He pulls your waist into his torso, pushing you down and grinding you against the already hardened length in his sweatpants. The wildly thin material left no room for the imagination, as it was now creating friction against your wet panties.

"Fuckin’ hell, Y/N—" Ashton mumbles through your lips, and you just sigh. You sigh into him like putty in his hands, creating a rhythm of swiveling hips and only furthering the fireworks that were occurring in the pit of your stomach.

He removes one hand from your waist, blindly finding the waistband of your underwear like it was some mindless, natural instinct.

Muscle memory is a damned thing.

Detaching your lips from his, you whine. "Ash, please—"

You wince internally at how needy you sounded. How desperate and completely disheveled you’ve become at his touch. Yet the blistered pads of his fingers continued to trace slow, taunting patterns along your bikini line.

But as your breathing becomes more erratic, Ashton reads you like the book he already knows so well. Front page to back, cover to fucking cover.

He dips two fingers down into your underwear, attaching them to your sensitive bud.

You writhe above him, but he keeps you grounded, anchoring his hand on your waist with his forehead pressed against yours.

His eyes flutter closed in delight. "So fuckin’ wet for me, yeah? This’ all for me, honey?"

It felt like he was mocking you. Of course it was for him. It was all for him. Anything you ever did was for him. Any feelings you’ve felt, thoughts you’ve had, stories you’ve told… they were all for him.

You can only bring yourself to nod.

"Good, good…" he sighs, breathlessly, "Gonna’ take me so easy tonight…"

He continues his rhythm. One finger circling your clit while the other ghosts over your entrance. Heavenly sighs fall from your lips. You want to close your eyes, you want to enjoy the sensation as it were.

But you just couldn’t look away.

"Look at me, Ash."

A bout of confidence rolls through your veins and you aren’t quite sure where it was coming from, but you had no complaints. Your foreheads being pressed together was making you antsy.

His features were still blurry through glossy eyes, which you didn’t really like. You wanted to get a good look at him before you tried to dismiss these feelings, and pretend as though he meant nothing.

Nothing at all.

He does as he’s told, and backs away from you. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he took in every single feature, etching, God knows what else, on your face.

"You know how fuckin’ beautiful you are, Y/N?— Always so good for me… like an angel… heaven sent."

Those words unleash something inside of you. Tears begin to brim at your lower lash line and you’re suddenly reminded of the feeling that you are so desperately trying to forget.

Existing in this world with him felt so strange. You truly believe he was sent down to Earth to smite you and haunt your memories.

And hearing him call you an angel didn’t help a damn thing.

The words you utter next come out just above a whisper. Your throat feels gravelly, and dry. Like you hadn’t drank water in years.

"Fuck me, Ashton. Just— fuck me, please—"

"M’gettin' there," he grunts, ignoring your plea and still chipping away at your decorum with his bare hands.

You let out a loud, high pitched mewl as you feel his two fingers now inside of you. He always took his time when it came to pleasuring you, always making sure that you’d be the one getting off first, even if he didn’t get the chance to.

Now, you’ve found yourself thinking in depth about just how thoughtful he is.

Jesus fuck, give it a rest.

"You know how much I adore those sweet sounds you make. But you’ve gotta be a tad bit quieter for me, alright angel?"

Oh god, you thought, this nickname better not become a recurring thing. You weren’t even sure you’d be able to fathom the thought of him thinking of you so highly.

"Okay, oh— fuck, Ashton"

Your brain was moving at a mile a minute. While trying to be quiet and simultaneously losing your head in the process, a smirk slides across Ashton’s face. He picks up on the signs, he notices your movements on his lap becoming more and more frenzied.

You knew you were close. He knew you were close.

Oh, of course he fucking did. He knew you like the back of his hand.

"Ash, I’m close… Please—" You begged empty pleas, finding stability with your hands clasped around his neck as you jerk forward with that fluttering feeling.

"I feel it comin’. Bein’ so— so good… C’mon— give it to me."

His two fingers thrust in and out of you while a third circled your clit. You wanted to scream, but he told you to be quiet. You wanted to kiss him, but you couldn’t pull yourself away from the purely concentrated, almost sadistic look in his eyes.

"That’s my girl… that’s my fuckin’ girl…"

The sounds of your wetness boom through your head along with the sounds of his praise, slowly meshing into a garish ringing in your ear. The butterflies once encased in the pit of your stomach had set free, fluttering along your body as Ashton’s rhythmic fingers come to a slowdown.

"Fuck!" You cry out, as your body collapses into his chest.

You could feel his ribcage shake with laughter, as he takes that free hand of his to rub your back. Your head is tossed over his shoulder as you manage your breathing.

"…Is that all you’ve got in you tonight?"

You could barely hear his voice over the ringing in your ears, as you heave like this was the last breath you’d ever take. He then removes his fingers from inside of you, causing you to jolt, still sensitive from the electricity coursing through your veins just moments before.

"N—no…" You stutter into his neck.

"You sure?"

"Uh-huh."

Your head was still spinning while you tried to cool down. The temperature of your bodies entwined was like a hot stovetop, setting your skin ablaze. But you couldn’t find it in you to lift yourself up from the crook of his shoulder.

You liked it there. It was comfortable. It felt natural.

After a few moments of silence and messy breathing, you lift your head up.

"All good now?" He asks, running a hand down your waist.

"I think so... Almost knocked me out with that one Ash, not gonna lie."

All he does is laugh, before hovering the two fingers he had used to unravel you with in front of the both of your faces.

"See this?" He examines his fingers, still glistening with your secretions, "Is this what I do to you?"

Your jaw falls open slightly, "Wh—"

He takes a moment to think to himself, pushing his lips to the side while you just watched in complete awe.

"…I wonder if my honey girl tastes as sweet as she looks?"

You don’t even have a moment to blink before he takes those two fingers into his mouth. He sucks whatever’s left of you off of his digits, before pulling them out with a pop.

"Mmm," he hums, "Just as I’d imagined… Sweet as fuckin’ honey"

Something inside of you snaps, and you’re suddenly reattaching your lips to his. He moans into you, taken aback by your actions with his hands fumbling to grab your ass and grind you down into him.

"I need— I need you…" You mumble into his lips, not long before he juts his tongue out to run it across your bottom lip.

His stubble scratches against your palms as you grab ahold of his face, trying to ease him into you as if it were even humanly possible to get him any closer.

"Need me t’fuck you, honey? You— you want me that badly?" He asks quickly, sounding out of breath already from the sheer friction of your hips grinding against him. You nod rapidly, and he dips down to kiss your neck to let you know that he heard you loud and clear.

“Please, Ash…" You couldn’t help it, your mind was still reeling, "I need to feel you—"

Your words come out airy and forced, like somebody was squeezing them out of you. But you couldn’t stop yourself no matter how hard you bit down your tongue.

"...Fuck me like I’m worthless… Fuck me like I mean nothing to you at all…"

His head pops up from the crook of your neck, a sardonic look in his eye.

"Say that again for me?"

"…Fuck me like I mean nothing to you, Ashton. Fuck me like I mean nothing at all.”

You couldn’t describe the way his face changed. The way it morphed into something that you weren’t at all used to. It wasn’t sarcastic, no. It wasn’t the usual cheeky grin, either.

You were afraid that you had just dug your grave even deeper this time.

"Stand up." He demands shortly, which brings goosebumps across your arms.

"Stand up?" You repeat, like a goddamn lovesick puppy.

"Stand the fuck up, Y/N."

You do as you’re told, wearily, lifting yourself off of him and rising to your feet. You watch in anticipation, crossing your arms over your chest as he remains sitting.

The dynamic between you two had shifted drastically. It was clear that Ashton was still in charge, only this time, it felt absolutely terrifying.

You wished you hadn’t said anything at all. You wished he had just let you ride him, as you were planning to do. But your emotions gotten the best of you. The thought of caring for him so deeply had actually brought you to spiral out of control.

What you had been longing for, all this time, was about to come true.

With that, you planned to do everything you were told. Each and every single order barked at you was to be followed. You wanted to see what it felt like. What it felt like to feel nothing for a change.

"Walk to the balcony." Another demand. You hesitate, still dealing with a subconscious battle of self. Your heart and brain were going at it like two bulls in the ring.

"Are you— are you gonna come with me?" You find your gaze glued to the patio, feeling as small and as meek as ever.

"Meh, I’ll make my way over eventually."

Fair enough.

You walk over towards the balcony; left only in your thin, grey CREW v-neck and a pair of frilly, sage green underwear.

The fact that Ashton didn’t comment on the color of them made you feel a bit discouraged. Green was his favorite color, after all. You at least thought he’d take a moment to appreciate it.

God knows that moment won’t be happening now.

You start to near the glass railing that surrounded the rooftop. But despite your back being turned, you could completely feel his eyes searing bullet holes into your flesh. A chill ran down your spine, uncomfortable with the feeling of being watched, yet enjoying the fact that it was by him.

"Keep walking."

You were getting so close to the glass that it actually started to feel cold, despite the lingering August air.

You also weren’t sure where his head was at. Him having you walk towards the balcony that was completely out-turned and visible to the street below almost felt like he was trying to humiliate you.

But that feeling was quickly washed away when you felt his footsteps behind you.

"You have any idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into, honey?” He inches close to you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating onto your back yet still too far away to touch you.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat. “No… I-I don’t think so…"

You were telling the truth. No, Ashton, you had not a clue what you had just gotten yourself into. The absolute wormhole that you had just unlocked for yourself.

A new way to feel about things. A new way to feel about him.

Another wave of chills runs down your back as he takes the back of his hand and runs it down your shoulder. You wince, wanting nothing more than to turn around and kiss him.

"I didn’t think you had it in you."

"What?" Your voice comes out high pitched. Almost… nervous.

"To order me around like that. To finally buck up n’ tell me how to have my way with ya’… It’s honestly— kind of impressive."

His hand strokes down your arm once again, but this time, you just sigh.

He thinks this is just roleplay.

Little did he know that all of this nagging and bossiness had come from the truest, most integral parts of your soul and your longing to forget about the way your heart beats for him.

"You think so?" You try to gain back your sparkle with a witty reply, "How else can I impress you, Ash?"

All of these words exchanged between you two were said facing away from one another. You hadn’t the energy to care, nor the energy to make this anymore meaningful than it was, or was not, supposed to be.

You’ve finally decided to let go.

"Well, you can start by bending over." He snaps back. He’s always been so quick with his words.

To follow your mantra from before, you do as you’re told, bending over slightly and exposing your bare asscheeks to him. You lean your arms over the glass railing, your wrists going limp in doing so.

"’Like the view?" You ask, sparing him a glance over your shoulder in hopes to get a little more of a rise out of him.

"The view won’t mean much while I’m using you, honey."

Your face grows pale, a rush of static that felt like pinpricks crawls across your body. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Ashton.

The excitement and rush of it all is now, finally, catching up to you. You were about to have meaningless sex with the person that means the most. In a way, it did feel like roleplay.

Except your role was pretending like you didn’t give a fuck about him.

"Gimme’ your wrist." You hear Ashton bark another command from behind you, along with the shuffling of fabric. Before you could even offer your wrist to him, he’s taking it upon himself to reach up and grab it.

He swiftly pins one of your arms behind your back, making you gasp and teeter on your feet.

"Ashton…" You try to say, but are immediately silenced by his other hand hooking a finger to the waistline of your panties.

"Don’t say another word, Y/N. You’re in no position to talk right now."

Your breath gets caught in your throat, now with your one free hand anchored to the railing. It was all a waiting game, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely turned on by him and his newfound unpredictability.

"I have a job for you." His voice rings in your ears, as he bends down above you to be parallel to your curved back. "…Think you could follow some orders f’me? Just for tonight?"

Just for tonight, you thought. Just for tonight.

You nod at his question. It was the only thing you were capable of doing, anyway.

"You’re gonna take my cock… But I don’t wanna hear a peep from that dirty mouth of yours. One fuckin’ sound and I swear… I’ll send you back downstairs with mascara running down your face and nothin’ to fuckin’ show for it."

You nod again. You were a nodding, blubbering mess.

"Think you could do that for me? Think you could be good enough for me to let you cum again?"

You nod, once again.

"And you told me what you wanted, right? Told me loud and clear how you wanted me to treat you? Out here— where there’s a small chance somebody could walk in on this?"

His pelvis presses against you as he taunts, and you’re left feeling even weaker in the knees.

This time, it wasn’t a nod. It was more of a sob.

"Good, good to know…" He softens his tone, lips now centimeters away from your ear.

"…Now bend the fuck over n’ let me use you like you’re nothing."

In a flash of vibrant colors swirling around the backs of your eyelids, you feel Ashton push your panties aside. He runs two fingers up your damp slit, bringing your face to a pinch.

You were still so sensitive after letting him have his way with you the first time. But you couldn’t fathom going another minute without the feeling of him buried inside of you.

"Please—" You whisper, but only to yourself.

You didn’t want to know what he’d do if he’d heard it.

His next movements were methodical, and slow, like he was a puppeteer playing with your strings. His hands dance along the sides of your hips, moving up to rub the small of your back.

He puffs out a breath, seemingly taking you in from behind.

"You're a fuckin' vision, Y/N... It's too bad you don't want me to treat you that way."

His ceaseless taunting was making your vision go shaky.

But you needed to keep reminding yourself... you fucking asked for it.

"Gonna let me use you, honey? Like my own personal doll... that I can toss around n' rough up... Mmm, 'bet you've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?"

"Ashton..." You can help but let his name tumble from your lips. But in a flash, his hand is cracking down on your bare asscheek, creating a loud clap that you swore could be heard for miles. You let out a yelp, but quickly clamp your lips shut.

Your skin burns from the contact, your mouth going bone dry.

"What did I fucking say about that mouth of yours, Y/N? Not a fucking peep."

As he guides himself up and down your slit, collecting your juices on his leaky tip, you choke back the tears in your eyes. You still wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him, which was just a damned thing.

"So wet f'me... God, I'm in heaven."

It was almost as if each string of sentences that came out of his mouth were traveling in through one ear and right out of the other. I suppose this was your karma for being so demanding.

But this is what you wanted, wasn't it? Even though Ashton's means of 'fucking you like you're worthless' still came with bouts of praise, he couldn't help it. He was only human. Testing the waters for the both of you.

Roleplay.

He traces one last drag along your folds, pushing your panties aside with his tip before suddenly slamming himself into you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of him, your body lurching forward towards the railing as his grip on your wrist grows tighter.

"Jesus fuck—." He groans through bated breath before starting his rhythm of pounding into you.

It starts off slowly. The feeling of him filling you up as your walls clench around him must've felt like heaven to the both of you, for he let out a long, dreamy sigh. The hand that was once toying with the hemline of your lacy panties was now planted on the small of your back, using you as leverage as he slammed his cock deeper with each stroke.

Ashton hums, the sounds of slapping skin now engulfing the air around you. "Fuckin' love this pussy... Like it was fuckin' made for me..."

The air in your lungs started to dissipate, practically leaving you begging for mercy at his expense. Your body jolted with each of his deep thrusts, still trying to stay quiet and do exactly as he had demanded of you.

His grip on your wrist had begun to feel raw, surely to leave you with some kind of marking, reinstating the absolute chokehold he has on you.

"Ash..." You whisper again, as he's grunting and whining from behind you.

"Whose fuckin' pussy is this? Whose fuckin' pussy is this?" He asks the question and you whimper, unable to gather any syllable of a sentence on your tongue.

Suddenly, he releases your wrist, picking up his rhythm of fucking into you. Your arm drops to your side like a ragdoll, as you scramble to balance it next to your other on the railing.

The hand of his that once held your wrist captive had traveled down to meet his other, gripping your waist and digging his blistered fingertips into your flesh.

"Fuck... fuckin' shit, Y/N... Takin' my cock so well..."

Using his hands anchored to your waist, he starts to pull you into him, slamming your hips into his pelvic bone and hitting that sweet spot with every. Single. Stroke.

"Fuck, you’re heavenly…. My sweet, sweet girl…"

At this point in time, you could care less about the semantics of this all.

Although the point of this was for Ashton to have his way with you without a single feeling attached, it seemed as though he couldn’t really help it. He was a blubbering mess of compliments and praise, a true gentleman through and through.

But that was something to think about while you lay awake in bed tonight.

For now, you just decided to live in the moment.

Ashton’s rhythm had grown sloppy. He was awfully close to making you finish for a second time, with each buck of his hips— meanwhile it was taking every last bit of your consciousness to keep yourself quiet. The pit of your stomach squeezed with each primal sound that fell from his plush lips.

"M’gonna cum soon, honey… ‘Gonna fill you up, yeah? Would you like that? Want me t’fill you up?"

Unsure of whether or not to verbalize your consent, you nod. Like a bobble-head on a broken spring.

"That’s my girl. That’s— my fuckin’ girl.”

Despite Ashton’s imminent orgasm, you could only think about two words.

My girl. My girl. My girl

They were flashing around your mind like the billboards in the Manhattan streets below. Each thought of those two words produced vibrant colors behind your eyelids, stars now fogging up the blackness as he slams into you a few more times.

"Gonna' cum, honey... G-Gonna' fill you up, m'kay? Fuck..."

With one final pound into you, the pulsing throbbing of his cock had come to a slowdown. You both let out a collective gasp, as the heat ignited between your bodies had meshed into a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.

Ashton collapses onto your back, the front half of his body slicked with sweat and pressing into you. Your breathing had begun to sync up collectively, only for him to pull out of you and make your entire body jolt.

"Fuck, Ashton."

You were finally able to speak again. You had gotten your words back, as well as your confidence. And the feeling of his presence behind you was all you needed to get you there.

He huffs, finally lifting himself off of you. But you lag behind, taking a moment to collect your breathing as he pulls his sweatpants up.

"Jesus Christ, honey. You're a goddamn dream." He chuckles, stepping back and allowing you the space to turn around.

And that you did. Finally faced with that dream he was on about.

Sweaty, messy curls glued and rearranged to his forehead. Glossy, hooded, fucked-out eyes. The fabric of his Hawaiian shirt soaked with the mixing of your sweat and his.

He looked obscene. He looked ethereal. You wanted to tell him how absolutely picturesque he was in that moment. You wanted to give him every gorgeous compliment you could think of.

But you didn't. You couldn't.

So you said this instead.

"...It'd be a dream if you could grab my jeans."

"Don’t be impolite, Y/N. What's the magic word?" He teases, motioning towards your jeans that had been discarded in a pile on the patio.

"Oh, so now you want me to talk, tough guy? After you just fucked the goddamn life out of me?"

He shrugs, "I wouldn't say I fucked the life out of you... If that was the case, you wouldn't be standing upright."

You huff, frustrated, but loving every second of it.

"Just– grab me my damn jeans, Irwin."

He does as he's told, begrudgingly walking the short few feet to grab your jeans as you stand, cross-legged, bare-assed, with your back against the glass.

"Your majesty," he bows, holding your pants out on his arm like a knight with your crown.

"Thank you."

As you put on your jeans, Ashton watches you. With those whiskey, honeypot eyes. Scanning down every inch of you as you put one leg in, then the other.

"If it were up to me, I'd send you back down pants-less."

"Yeah, right." You scoff, reverting back to your old ways of a thumping heart and a pain in your chest, "You know how much trouble I'd be in?"

"Trouble by who? I'm your boss, aren't I?"

You puff, pulling up the zipper of your jeans, "You don't act like it."

"Want me to start then?" He quips.

"...No. Absolutely not."

Ashton tosses you a smile, not long before he's holding out his arms.

"That's what I thought, honey," he motions for you with his hands, "Now c'mere."

Without even thinking, almost as if it were rehearsed, you spin around, falling backwards into his arms. He wraps himself around you, broad biceps squeezing your shoulders like a butterfly in its' cocoon.

The Manhattan night sky was twinkling with lights and stars. You stare out into it, and he does too.

As you stand cradled in his arms with the lingering of pitiful, degrading sex still in the air, you sat in your thoughts for a moment.

What happened tonight couldn’t have been a mistake. You had been speaking it into existence for so long, that it finally became a reality. From the way he so passionately kissed you, to the way he so effortlessly dropped everything to fuck you like you were worthless. Just like you had asked. Just liked you had intended.

But you knew, despite everything that happened tonight, that not a single thing would change.

Your heart would still flutter out of your ribcage whenever he walked by. You’d still answer his calls late at night, or spare him passing glances in the concert halls.

You’d still come to meet him, no matter when or where. All with that same, God awful weight on your chest.

It all made you feel terrible. Everything about him made you feel terrible.

But you were willing to get used to that feeling.

To be completely honest with yourself…

You kind of liked it.

It felt like being in love

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#ashton irwin #ashton #ashton 5 seconds of summer #5sos #5 seconds of summer #oh this is filth #what have i done #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin smut #5sos smut

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