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sailorrhansol · 7 months ago

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Chat, is that Rizz? | j.ww (m)

Pairing: Streamer!Wonwoo x Streamer! F.reader

Summary: Your rivalry with Wonwoo has existed for as long as you’ve been streaming. It’s fun, and both of your communities love it. Wonwoo is happy to play along - at least until you question his rizz while live, and he feels like he should remind you just how much rizz he has.

Word Count: 5,366

Genre: Established Relationship, Faux Rivals

Type: Smut, a hint of fluff

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: This is so cheesy and stupid and I don’t care!! Explicit language, teasing and light antagonization, gamer and streamer speak in spots, sexually explicit content including spanking, fingering, unprotected sex, hint of overstimulation, playful banter and teasing during sex, bodily fluids, soft dom if you squint. UNEDITED.

A/N: I don’t care that parts of this are kind of cringe, @daechwitatamic tells me to write so I write and I needed to get out of a writing slump. Yes the game they are playing is Valorant. No I did not call it Valorant. Have I played Valorant in the last year? No! Anyway, please enjoy this shameless porn no plot! Also please don't arrest me for the fucking TERRIBLE puns.

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

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“You’re never going to hit Immortal with that strat, Wonwoo,” you tease, cringing as he gets gunned down by the enemy team’s Reyna. “Rotated too early.”

“Here they go,” Seungcheol mutters into the mic, his exasperation making you grin as you fix your eyes on the screen. Like both you and Wonwoo, Seungcheol has already died in the round, watching as Mingyu navigates the map to pick up the bomb to attempt to save the round.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you while you were dead,” Wonwoo shoots back. You scrunch your nose, knowing that it is, unfortunately, true. “I was in the land of the living. You know. Because I didn’t dry peek long and die.”

“Seungcheol told me to push site!”

“Maybe push with util, though? Or be better.”

On the right side of your screen, you can see your chat blowing up. You grin and roll your eyes - you aren’t actually bothered by Wonwoo and you know he isn’t mad either. Playing games with him always elicits teasing and a steady back and forth.

Once upon a time, his poking might bother you. Now, you’ve played enough games with Wonwoo over the last two years to know better. It’s all in good faith, and it’s part of the joke, this ongoing way the two of you bicker and go tit for tat.

“I am nothing if not an accommodating teammate,” you offer back. Mingyu manages to get to the site, swinging wildly to check for enemies. “I’m a helper. I like to help people.”

“You can help me by shutting up,” Mingyu mutters.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echos, a smirk prominent in his voice. “Shut up.”

“No I’m talking to you too,” Mingyu assures. “And you did rotate without me and too early. So she’s right.”

That shuts Wonwoo up, a chorus of laughter echoing in the headset as your team watches Mingyu try and go for the clutch. Your laughter fades and you mute yourself on Discord in an attempt not to distract Mingyu, eyes flicking over to the comments flooding in on your stream.

It’s a rewarding feeling to see how many there are, donation notifications popping up on the top of your screen making your heart stutter a little. You can see Seokmin moderating as usual in the chat, reminding people the commands for frequently asked questions and removing anything weird.

There is a lot of weird.

“Thank you for the dono, Shaezy98. Yes, PiCheolwinning, I hit Immortal a few days ago! What do you guys think about doing a nonstop stream until I hit Radiant? Would that be fun?”

Resounding yes responses flood the comments. You grin, pulling your legs up into the chair to make small talk with the community you’ve so carefully built over the last few years. You see a suggestion in the comments that makes you laugh, leaning forward to unmute yourself in Discord.

“Hey Wonwoo,” you ask. “My chat wants us to try 1v1 where we customize each other’s settings. Thoughts?”

It’s a common question. People love the dynamic you and Wonwoo specifically have, enjoying seeing the friendly rivalry grow over the years. You can recall several streams you’ve done just playing together, hosting charity events and promoting new games as a dynamic duo.

Some wonder if you’re together. There’s no hard evidence, but there's chemistry there. A lightness to your banter that comes with a familiarity your fans try to piece together, a gentleness that sounds the edges of your insults to make sure the other knows your kidding.

Wonwoo lets out a deep hum. “You’re gonna go demon mode on my settings. Then I’d have to change them back.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he’s worried about his settings, as if he can’t export them. “Is that a no?”

“What’s in it for me? Besides my fucked up settings and the risk you change all my weapon skins.”

Clearing your throat, you put on your best telemarketer voice. “The benefits to this offer are endless. For a limited time only, you can take advantage of quality time spent with me-”

“Not a benefit.”

You ignore his interruption, a vein in your forehead ticking at the comment. “You can protect your honor and pride as a gamer, and as a special early bird offer, I’ll give all donations from that stream to a charity of your choosing. Thoughts?”

Mingyu ends up losing the round, earning a resounding sigh and curse from everyone on the team. You move your mouse around to click through weapons and set yourself up for the next round. “They’re going to force,” you say, momentarily distracted from your sales pitch by strategy. “Wonwoo I can buy you a marshall.”

“Yeah.”

You make the transaction for him and drop the weapon so he can pick it up, noting the comments coming in from viewers.

NoLo88: See, she always does stuff for him - I swear they’re together!!!

EzBoyZ: No way would she date him.

NoLo88: Are you kidding? Have you seen Wonwoo? He’s like the hottest streamer ever.

LoLPog69: Ugh I hope they’re not dating, she’s better single.

“See, I’m fun. I’m nice. I’m a team player who helps win games. What do you say?”

“Fine, it’s a date.”

The way he so casually says it makes your stomach flip. You hesitate for a moment, blinking in surprise before you realize he’s said it without really thinking about it. Biting your bottom lip to fight a smile, you ask, “Oh? A date? Chat, is that rizz?”

“Oh fuck off,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to cover up his mistake. You can’t help it - your smile spreads as he rushes to gloss over what he said. “It’s a figure of speech.”

“He’s trying to rizz me, chat!”

“In your dreams.”

“You should change your tag from WonuWizard to WonuRizzard.” Wonwoo curses as he gets killed. You cackle, killing an enemy and taking their gun. “Oo, an operator. Do you want this, Wonwoo? What about changing your tag to RizzardOfOz?”

Wonwoo groans on the other end of the mic and you can imagine the way he pushes back in his chair, sinking a little further down as he spectates the match. “Yes, save the op for me, please. Also, get your chat out of mine. I’m going to get a Rizzstraining order.”

You note the way he says for me when he asks for the weapon you’ve picked up to keep for him. It is a favor to him, intended for him. Your viewers notice.

Seungcheol swears. “You two are insufferable to play with sometimes. We’re trying to win a game.”

Mingyu huffs. “Just stop Rizzsponding, Cheol. They’ll shut up eventually.”

With a laugh, you settle in and focus on the game. Even as the teasing dies down, you and Wonwoo fall into a comfortable give and take, working together to win the next few rounds and eventually, the entire match after Wonwoo closes out the game with an ace.

“Wow.” You lean back in your chair, stretching. It’s getting late at night, and you feel a little tired. “Mad Rizzpect, Wonwoo. Up your rizz game and maybe I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Up my rizz game?” His tone has shifted as everyone starts talking over one another, Seungcheol and Mingyu getting into it over something sports related. You’re focused on the soft purr of Wonwoo’s voice, though. The raspiness of it. “If I wanted to rizz you, I would.”

Fuck. His voice. You shift a little in your seat, clicking around your secondary monitor that is off stream to pull up Wonwoo’s stream. It loads, immediately showing his dark room with slow pulsing RGB lights in the background and shelving displaying different collectible items.

Wonwoo looks like he always does: leaned back casually in his seat, the glow of his computer reflecting in the lens of his black-frame glasses. Dark bangs hang in his eyes, the rest of his hair hidden by the hood that is pulled up over his head. He’s chewing on one of the strings of his hoodie as he talks to his chat, voice gentle.

His hoodie has a little animated version of him over the left side of the chest, the character winking and giving finger hearts. You feel your lips twitch - you always loved the little cartoon version of himself. As always, he looks totally at ease. It’s the same even in an intense game, Wonwoo never feeling the need to lean closer to the screen or showing the tension in his shoulders.

Calm. Cool. Collected.

Except when you can force a rise out of him, of course.

A bunch of notifications flood in your chat. You look over to them, reading through them and grinning. You pull your mic toward you, shaking your head. “Ugh I have all the Wonwoo apologists in my chat defending your rizz.”

“Good” he shoots back. You watch in delayed time as he smirks on his end. He so rarely does a full smile, but you know it’s beautiful when he does. “You need to take Rizzponsibility for implying I have no rizz.”

“No way,” Mingyu gasps. “Two Wonwoo puns in a single night?”

“Puns and attempted rizz?” You ask, cocking your head. “Huge day for Wonwoo fans everywhere.”

“Again, that wasn’t rizz. You’ll know it when I use it.”

“Sure, sure. Or maybe you just… don’t have any.”

You watch the tick in Wonwoo’s jaw. A grin spreads across your face and you try to suppress it, knee bouncing in anticipation as you watch the minute changes in his expression. He drums his fingers on the armrest of his gaming chair, hypnotizing you for a moment. He has long, elegant fingers paired with a beautiful set of hands.

“You really think I have no rizz?” he asks, voice low and oh you know that voice. You suppress a shiver and shake your head ‘no’ before realizing that he can’t see you. Or he does - because he says, “Use your words like a big girl.”

If you weren’t on stream, your eyes might roll back in your head at the soft purr of his voice, the way in which he immediately switches gears, put out by your accusations that you already know are false.

And because you’re you, you push him a little more, interested to see where it goes. “Are you watching my stream, Jeon Wonwoo?”

“Mhmm. Trying to learn rizz, since apparently I have none. Go on, show the class. What have you got?”

Seungcheol and Mingyu both ooo and quiet down, putting you on the spot. Heat tiptoes up your neck to your ears. Being a streamer by nature is being under the spotlight, especially when you have a high follower account. This is different though, the pressure suddenly flipped to you as your friends settle in, waiting.

“It’s all about the charizzma,” you joke, voice a little raspy. You swallow, eyes flicking to your secondary monitor where you can see Wonwoo watching his screen with a growing grin. “I can’t teach you how to have that, Jeon.”

“What can you teach me, Angel?”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You know that commanding tone anywhere, the soft shift from teasing to something a little darker, a little sharper. He doesn’t care that you’re both on the screen for live viewers, that this will be recorded, or that you have friends on the call, who have taken a backseat to watch the fencing match.

And the angel. Sure, it’s a small part of your brand and gamertag, but the way Wonwoo says it implies something intimate. Darker. A gentle caress of the word against your skin.

When you come up with nothing, Wonwoo grins on screen, devastatingly handsome. He knows he’s surprised you. “Not a problem,” he quips. “I’m an excellent teacher. I can teach you how to rizzpond to a direct question.”

He surprises you by ending the stream suddenly. You blink in surprise, both Seungcheol and Mingyu calling Wonwoo’s name, assuming his internet has gone out or has been interrupted. With shaking hands, you remove one side of your headphones, listening. Heavy footsteps sound in the hall and you squeak, hitting the hotkey to show be right back on your stream.

Wonwoo stands in the doorway. He gives you a single, lopsided smirk before waltzing toward you, a predator stalking prey. His dark eyes are focused on you, drinking you in.

“Noooo,” you yell at him, giddy and panicked all at the same time. You hold your hands out to push him away but he links your fingers instead pressing his palms against yours and pulls you toward him. He jerks your computer chair toward him, your knees crashing against his. “Hiiiii.”

“No rizz, huh?” his voice is barely a murmur.

“Ummm,” you glance over to your set up where the be right back glows. Wonwoo follows your line of sight before dropping his gaze back to you, eyes asking a question. “Do you… want to?”

Elation falls across his face. “I’m down if you are. You know that.”

Chewing your lip, you smile and nod. You’ve long been planning to reveal that the two of you have been dating for a long time, and the present feels right. Not to mention the implication of him ending the stream and you slamming the be right back on at the same time.

Wonwoo leans down and grabs the arms of your computer chair, spinning it around and pushing you back into the frame. He leans over your shoulder, the smell of sandalwood and lavender enveloping you, making your head spin. He hits the hotkey to turn your stream and mic back on.

Your eyes drop to where you’re displayed in the camera, Wonwoo leans against the back of your chair, chest pressed to your shoulder as he grins at the camera. Your thighs clench, seeing that same cocky smirk you’re used to making a brief appearance on camera.

“Sorry chat,” Wonwoo announces. “Sorry Cheol, Mingyu. I have to handle the disrizzspect going on in my own home. Say byeeee to chat, Angel.”

“Byeeee,” you squeak on instinct, watching as he waves while your comments explode. He closes out the stream and cuts off the Discord call where Seungcheol and Mingyu are screeching, shutting down your computer entirely so there’s no chance for accidents.

Stomach fluttering, you take off your headphones and look up at Wonwoo to find he’s already staring down at you, dark eyes hungry. You slide down a little in your chair, feeling your mouth go dry. You got what you wanted, but now that he’s there and you can feel the intensity crackling between you, you can’t help but balk just a little.

“What?” he asks, lips twitching at the corner. “Rizz got your tongue?”

“I guess maybe you have a little rizz.”

“Ohhh, I see.” Wonwoo pulls your seat backward, spinning your chair around so that you face the bed. He lets go of the chair and walks backward, sitting on the edge of your bed. You stare at him, heart beating, breath quickening. “Now that there’s no one here I have rizz.”

You pout. “It’s our brand.”

“Mhmm.” He leans back on your bed, the mattress dimpling under his weight. He pats his thigh with one hand. “You just love getting under my skin, don’t you?”

You climb out of your computer chair, stumbling a little as the blood starts to flow from where they were crisscrossed. He tsks at you as you regain your footing, padding over to where he sits, legs spread, thighs straining against his athletic shorts.

Carefully, you climb into his lap. Your body buzzes as you settle over him, one knee on either side of his hips. You lean your weight into him, hands resting on top of his shoulders. Even through his hoodie, you can feel how warm his skin is.

“Are you happy now?”

“Huh?”

One of his hands leaves the bed and cracks against your ass, starling you. You squeak and lean forward, the sting making your eyelids flutter. “You’re not even listening, are you?”

“I wasn’t.”

His hand kneads your ass through your shorts, soothing the sting from the slap. “I asked, are you happy now? Did you get what you wanted?” You nodded, letting your head hang down, burying your face in his neck. It’s warm and safe there, your thoughts sticky as his hand continues to explore your ass. “Remember when I said use your words like a big girl?”

“Yes. Yes, I got what I wanted.”

“And what was it you wanted?”

When you hesitate to answer, too focused on your slamming heart and stuttered breathing, his hand comes down across your ass again. You curse, melting into him, letting him bear your weight entirely. “Wanted to rile you up.”

“It worked.”

“I can tell.”

Wonwoo’s hand trails to the edge of your shorts, fingers dancing along your thighs. You’re hype aware of his touch and the way it sends fire through you, stomach in knots and cunt aching between your legs as he fingers the hem of your shorts.

“Is it okay that I interrupted your stream?”

The question is so much softer than he was a second ago. You lift your head to look at him. His face swims into focus, a momentary flicker of nervousness. Wonwoo is rarely impulsive, but the move to announce your rivalry is more romantic than most people knew was unplanned and spur of the moment.

“It’s definitely okay. Is it okay with you?”

He nods, leaning forward to run his nose up the side of your neck. He inhales, taking in your scent and humming while the hand running along your shorts pulls at the fabric. “Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be upset.”

“No. Now the people in your chat know you’re mine.”

“Yours?” His mouth brushes against the hollow of your throat, hot and wet. Your head tilts back, lips parting as his tongue flicks against your skin. “Just wanted to claim me, is that it?”

“Your fans are horny?”

He nips your neck and a moan drips from you. “Yours aren’t?”

“Not like yours.”

“Too bad for them. There’s only one angel who can get under my skin.” Wonwoo takes you by the waist and rolls you over. Your breath leaves you in a huff as your back hits the mattress. He leans over you, knees caging you in on either side of your hips as he presses his mouth to your jawline, sucking kisses up toward your ear. “Only one drawback - she thinks I have no rizz.”

You bring your hands to the hem of his hoodie, desperate to feel him. Sliding your hands under the fabric, you press your palms against his stomach, feeling his muscle flex as his skin warms your hands. His mouth is wet against your skin, teeth nipping your earlobe teasingly, drawing a raspy sound from you.

“I think,” you gasp as he drops a hand between your legs to press against your clothed cunt, “That she might be wrong about the rizz.”

Wonwoo’s fingers apply pressure, barely circling your clit through the fabric. It worsens the ache between your legs, your thoughts getting scattered as you squirm underneath him. He brings his mouth to yours, stealing a greedy kiss.

This is the part of Wonwoo that you know only you see. Where the calm and collected gamer turns into an all consuming force, stealing the breath from your lungs as his tongue presses against yours. You kiss him back with equal want, whimpering into his mouth as he presses his fingers a little harder against you.

“Please,” you breathe against his mouth between kisses. “I know I was mean but please.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m sorry!”

“Are you, though?” He mouths down your neck to your collarbone, the sting of his teeth soothed by the rough pass of his tongue. “You got exactly what you wanted and more.”

“I ammmm.”

His laughter is rough. The hand between your legs comes up to the top of your shorts, dipping past the waistline to sink downward. He groans when he feels the dampness of your underwear, the way he’s already worked you up.

“No rizz,” he mutters to himself. You throb when you feel his fingers pull your underwear to the side, knuckles running up your wet folds where he stops at your clit to press down. Your nails scrap against his abs, body tensing under the stimulation. “This is a wet fucking fucking pussy for someone who has no rizz.”

You can’t think of a response, mind reeling as Wonwoo plays with you properly. You writhe in his hands, melting as his fingers brush up and down your slit before coming back up to gently circle your clit. Your feet kick a little under him, unable to sit still as he works you - teases you.

Fuck you realize he might do this all night.

“You have a lot of rizz,” you breath, pressing the back of your head into the bed, gasping in surprise as he sinks a finger into your entrance. Already you’re clenching down on him, wanting more. “Fuck.”

“I don’t know… maybe I just… lack what you need.”

“No,” you answer quickly. “Just… ugh like that.”

The ease at which he knows how to touch you makes everything feel tenfold. Wonwoo knows you like the back of your hand, both intimately and mentally. What had started as two streamers annoying one another had turned into friendship at some point - you’d met him at a convention and realized he was far gentler and softer than you imagine.

That had turned into something further - something deeper. The want when you were around him was something that you hadn’t expected, but it hasn’t gone away since. Even though you get to have him like this, finger stroking your inner walls and palm pressed against your clit, you always want more. Can’t stop wanting him.

“Want,” you mutter, the only word you can think of. You feel the smile pressed against your skin, the wetness slicking his fingers as he presses in a second, stretching you. Your hips can’t off the bed but he pushes you back down, making you whine.

“Why should I?”

“Cause.”

“Not a good enough answer.”

Wonwoo starts to retract his hand and you scramble, digging your nails into his hip to claw him back toward you. “Cause I love you.”

“Closer…”

“Cause I want you.”

“So close.”

“Cause I need you.”

He hums in thought. “Good enough. Help me take these fucking shorts off.”

Wonwoo pulls his hand out of your shorts and leans upward. You rip your hands from his hoodie to slide your shorts off, peeling your underwear down as you do. He taps you on the thigh, fingers sticky from your arousal as he shifts higher. You know what he’s asking, scooting backward on the mattress to give yourself more real estate.

His mouth comes back down to yours, lips soft. You love kissing him, tongue tangling as you bring your hands up to slide your fingers through his hair. He makes an appreciative sound, one hand supporting his weight as he hovers over you while the other slots back between your legs to resume where he left off.

Unrestricted by your shorts, he’s able to thrust his fingers properly. Your gasps break his kisses, hips rolling to meet the stroke of his fingers. He’s always been skilled with his hands, able to peel you apart, pressing the pads of his fingers into that sweet spot over and over again.

His thumb presses against your clit, adding stimulation as he moves it from side to side slowly, aided by the wetness gathered there. You let yourself get lost in him, pressure tightening in your stomach as you climb toward an orgasm.

Your hands are everywhere - pulling at his hair, pulling at his shoulders, pulling at his arms. He lets you grip at him, lets you squirm beneath his ministrations, letting you have free reign. It’s a favor to you, in a way. He’s letting you get away with your earlier teasing, not drawing it out like he’s known to do, not making you beg.

Moans bracket the wet sound his fingers make in your cunt as he works you to the edge. Your breaths come out in short hisses behind clenched teeth and your thighs squeeze his hand. He’s unfettered, laughing roughly against your ear, breath hot.

“What would your chat say?” he asks. “Huh? What would they say if they knew you fell apart like this? That your cunt melts around my fingers.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, so close to your orgasm that your ears are starting to buzz.

“All this time they thought we were frenemies. Have no idea I get to have you like this whenever I want.”

“I’m gonna-”

“Yeah, you’re gonna.” His fingers press harder, the pressure mounting further. “Gonna come all over my fingers, yeah? Just like you always do?”

You do.

Everything comes together in one, cohesive snap. You arch into him, muscles squeezing, teeth clenched, eyes shut. It feels good when you unravel, coming around his fingers as they fuck you through it, determind to extend your high for as long as he can.

Your breathing is ragged by the time you start to come down, shirt sticking to your skin and neck and face flushed as you try to escape him. He laughs a little, hand slowing until his fingers are still inside you, pressed deep.

When you open your eyes, the room is spinning. It takes you a second to focus on him. His head is hanging, gaze focused where his fingers are still shoved in your pussy. You can see your arousal shining on his wrist and feel where you drip down the curve of your ass.

“A lot of cum for someone with no rizz,” he notes, lifting his head to grin at you.

“Oh shut up.”

“Oh?”

He retracts his hand and you make a pitiful sound at the loss. He stands up, suddenly leaving you cold and shivering. He brings his fingers to his mouth absently, popping them between rosy lips as he sucks your fluid off easily, making an appreciative sound.

“I mean if you want me to leave-”

“No, no! No need for that.” He smirks. “You’re already… here and stuff.”

“And stuff.”

Rolling his eyes, he peels the hoodie up and over his head. You watch, suddenly entranced by the blue tint on his tan skin and the way his muscles flex when he leans to kick off his sweats. Wonwoo is beautiful, his body made up of equal parts streamlined edges and softness.

Sleeper build, you’d joke the first time you saw him shirtless. On stream, he’s always hidden in baggy shirts and hoodies. You’d never realized he was hiding a body that was at peak athletic form, oversized clothing giving way to rippling arms and a hard chest.

Naked, he shuffles back to the bed. You let him pull you out of your top, thankful for the warmth of his hands skating over your chilled skin. Your nipples tighten in the cool air, your toes curling at the sensation as you lay back on the bed and look up at him.

Haloed by blue light, Wonwoo looks like some sort of demon or angel. You’re not sure - perhaps he’s equal parts. His hands reach behind your thighs and lift, pressing your legs upward toward your chest. The stretch feels good but it also pries you open, making you writhe when you feel the weight of his cock on your pussy.

“Hold yourself open for me,” he murmurs gently. Your hands reach behind the back of your knees, pulling. He gives you a lopsided grin, leaning over you to press his weight into the backs of your thighs, helping. “Stay just like that, fuck.”

You do as he says. You have no other choice, especially when he presses the head of his cock into your entrance, sinking in slowly. You let out a loan moan shaped in his name as he presses in, the fit tight and the pressure delirious.

Wonwoo bottoms out, holding himself to you, hips to ass for a second. He presses in all of his weight, the mattress creaking under you as he does. He drops his chin to his chest, curses as he takes a few deep breaths, chest heaving.

You fuck him up too. You know it and you love it, watching as he looks up at you, eyes glazed over with lust, but still full of love. It simmers right at the surface, so obvious that you wonder how anyone could ever not see it when it’s right there.

Slowly, he starts to move. You suck in a breath, head falling to the side. Your fingers ache where you grip your thighs, knuckles shaking. A light sheen of sweat wicks your legs, making your hold slip a little. It’s okay, though. Wonwoo leans into you, keeping you pried open as his hips fuck into you at a steady pace.

Each thrust feels like it punches the air from your lungs. You draw in deep breaths when you remember, otherwise distracted with the way he crowds you in, crushing you to the mattress. The feeling of him is insane, your thoughts cobwebbing together, the only word you can think of being his name.

He pants, his arms scooping around your shoulders to pull you into him. A curse leaves your mouth. He’s got you folded in half, no escape from the drill of his hips, the air turning to static between you. Wonwoo is pressed close and you somehow wish you were closer, wanting to drop the grip on your thighs to hold him instead.

Wonwoo reads you like a book. “Go ahead,” he hisses between thrusts.

“Thank you,” you gasp, dropping your legs in favor of sliding your hands through his sweaty hair, nails scratching his scalp. You feel him shiver and you do it again, pulling his face to you so that you can brush your mouth against his, barely a kiss. “Fuuuuuuck, Wonwoo I-”

“I know.”

“Close close close.”

He doesn’t pick up his pace but he throws his weight into you more, fucking you deep and hard. You see stars, squeezing your eyes shut as you slide against one another, muscles aching, lungs screaming. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t care, skating the line of your second orgasm so close.

Your heart pounds in your ears. Your breath scrapes your throat. There is a moment of absolute nothing but white noise and then you’re crashing, slamming into your orgasm with enough force to knock your head with his when you lurch forward.

It doesn’t even hurt, the electric pleasure outweighing the knock to your head as his fingers dig into your shoulders, cradling you harder as he pistons faster, getting himself to peak. You go limp, held tilted back as he growls your name and loses a rhythm, breath hissing between his teeth.

For a moment everything is disjointed until he slows to a stop, letting you unfold but pressing his body down onto yours. His weight is comforting, grounding you as your thoughts wander, a little confused and without navigation as your system reboots from the orgasm, tired and staticky.

Wonwoo kisses your jaw lightly, a gentle contrast to seconds ago when he folded you in half.

Slowly, he slides to the side, giving you room to breathe. Your body is slick all over - especially between your legs - and the room cools your over-warm skin. You crane your neck to face him, eyes fluttering open as you come back to, a little more lucid.

His dark eyes find yours and he grins before tossing an arm over your waist just to keep you connected. You place your hand on his arm, returning the gesture, just wanting to touch him.

“I think I died,” you joke, voice rough. “God.”

“Yeah? Hey chat,” Wonwoo hums, a grin splitting his face. “How about that for rizz?”

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#wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #wonu smut #svt smut #wonwoo x reader #wonu x reader #seventeen smut #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fanfic #minors do not interact #minors dni #why is tagging fics lowkey embarrassing

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rootedinrevisions · 1 month ago

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Since Forever

SUMMARY: After a harrowing near-death experience in the sky when a routine training exercise goes wrong, you and Jake are forced to confront the unspoken tension that's always simmered between you. With a crash landing and a moment that changes everything, the line between squadmates and something more begins to blur.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I'm sorry it's been like 3 weeks since you sent it in, but hopefully, it's worth the wait! Hope you enjoy it! xx

WARNINGS: Angst, Mutual Pining, Plane Crash (Smoke, Impact, Head Injury, Blood), Cussing

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The dry California air carried the hum of activity on the tarmac, the heat shimmering in waves off the asphalt as you stood in your flight suit, clipboard in hand. The roar of jets echoed in the background, a familiar symphony you’d grown accustomed to over the years. North Island was as bustling as ever, a mix of old faces and new ones prepping for the upcoming training exercises.

You were focused on your pre-flight checks, meticulously going over every detail on your clipboard. Attention to detail had always been your strong suit, something that had earned you respect in the cockpit and plenty of snide comments from one particular squad mate.

“Still babysitting that clipboard, Ace?”

You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Jake “Hangman” Seresin’s voice was unmistakable—smooth, cocky, and always laced with that infuriating Texan drawl.

“Still babysitting your ego, Bagman?” you shot back without missing a beat, your eyes remaining on your checklist.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him saunter closer, his helmet tucked under one arm, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Jake had a way of walking that oozed confidence, like he owned every space he entered. It was both maddening and, if you were honest with yourself, slightly impressive.

“Touché,” he drawled, stopping a few feet away. “But seriously, Ace, you’ve been doing this long enough to know the damn thing’s not going to sprout wings and fly off without you.”

You finally glanced up, arching a brow at him. “Says the guy who spent fifteen minutes arguing with the crew chief yesterday about the ‘perfect’ alignment of his seat harness.”

“That’s called being thorough,” Jake replied, unfazed. “You should try it sometime.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to your jet. “Is there something you actually need, or are you just here to be a pain in my ass?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Can’t a guy check in on his favorite squad mate?”

“Favorite?” you echoed, snorting. “You must be losing your touch, Hangman. Last time I checked, I was the one gunning for top marks on this run.”

“That’s what makes you my favorite,” he said smoothly, his tone dropping just enough to make your stomach do a small, unwelcome flip.

You hated how he could do that—how he could make the simplest comment sound like it was loaded with a thousand unspoken things. It was part of the tension that had simmered between you two for years, a strange, undefined thing neither of you had ever acknowledged out loud.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” you replied, setting your clipboard down. “I’ve got a jet to fly, and you’ve got an ego to stroke somewhere else.”

Jake tilted his head, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful, Ace. One of these days, that sharp tongue of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes at him as you adjusted the strap on your helmet. “And one of these days, Seresin, you’re going to realize that not everyone is impressed by your southern charm.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a standoff, the air crackling with the kind of tension that was all too familiar between the two of you. Then Jake stepped back, a soft chuckle escaping him as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Fair enough,” he said, his grin still firmly in place. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He turned and started walking toward his jet, his gait as cocky as ever. You shook your head, exhaling slowly as you tried to refocus on the task at hand.

Damn him.

Even now, years after you’d first met, Jake Seresin still had the ability to get under your skin in a way no one else could. And despite the irritation bubbling in your chest, you couldn’t entirely shake the small, secret part of you that liked it.

* * * *

The sky was a perfect blue—no clouds, just an endless expanse stretching out in front of you. It was supposed to be a simple exercise, just another day in the air, but your instincts had been nagging at you all morning. Something felt off.

You were flying at full throttle, running through the mission parameters, your fingers lightly grazing the controls as you focused on the task at hand. In the distance, you could see Jake’s jet—smooth and precise, cutting through the air just like always. You kept your distance, the tension between you two still palpable, even miles above the earth.

Then, without warning, the engine sputtered.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, eyes flicking to the gauges. The warning lights blinked red, and your stomach dropped like a stone. The engine—your primary engine—locked up.

“Ace, you copy?” The crackling voice of your Captain came through your comms, sharp and urgent. “What’s your status?”

You took a steadying breath, trying to keep your pulse under control. The jet was starting to lose altitude, slowly at first, but it wasn’t going to be slow for long.

“Engine’s locked,” you said, voice tight. You glanced down at your instruments again, hoping for a miracle. “I’m losing power. Going down.”

Jake’s voice exploded through your earpiece. “Don’t do anything stupid, Ace. You hear me? Eject if you have to!”

The words felt like a slap in the face. He was always the first one to play the hero, always telling you what to do like you were some rookie.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Seresin,” you snapped, teeth gritting as you struggled to maintain control. You banked hard to the left, trying to level out, but the jet was sluggish—too sluggish. It was dropping faster now, and the ground was coming up at you way too quickly. “I’m not ejecting.”

“I said—” Jake’s voice broke through again, but you could already hear the Captain cutting him off.

“Ace, listen to me. You have two options right now,” the Captain said, his tone firm, no room for negotiation. “Eject, or try to bring her in. But you don’t have much altitude left.”

You had a split second to make a choice. The sky was shrinking, the earth creeping closer with every heartbeat. Your mind raced—ejecting would be easy, sure. But it would cost you the plane, and it would mean another mission down the drain. And there was always that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you had to rely on someone else to pull you from the wreckage.

You focused, blocking out the voices in your comms, focusing on the controls, on what you could do.

You had one good engine. It wasn’t ideal, but you had just enough altitude to make a hard landing. If you timed it right.

“I’m landing this bird,” you said, your voice steely with determination. You could feel the sweat building under your helmet, your pulse pounding in your ears, but your hands were steady. “I’ve got this.”

“Ace!” Jake’s voice came again, a mix of frustration and panic threading through his words. “You don’t have the altitude—”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you cut him off, your jaw clenched as you took a deep breath. The ground was closing in fast now, the harsh reality of the situation crashing over you. You had seconds to decide how you were going to do this. You could almost hear your heartbeat in your throat as you worked the throttle, pushing the remaining engine to its limits.

“Ace, eject now!” Jake was practically shouting now, but you didn’t have the time to argue. You were already lining up the rough terrain, calculating the risks in your head. You’d done it before—this was just another challenge to overcome. “If you crash—”

“I said I’ve got this!” you growled, pushing the throttle forward and making a last-ditch effort to pull the jet back into some semblance of control.

The sound of the engine was sickening now, almost wheezing, but it was still holding on. You could feel the nose of the plane dip, and you knew it was time. There was no turning back now.

You aimed for the small strip of flat ground, mentally calculating the distance between you and the crash site, praying to every deity that you could pull this off.

The jet dropped faster.

Your stomach lurched.

You could hear the voices of your team—your Captain—fading in the background, their instructions turning into static. All you could hear now was the roar of the engine, your breath, and the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

And then the wheels hit the earth. It was harder than you expected. The jet groaned under the strain, the fuselage screeching as you fought for control. The wheels bounced once, twice, and the jet jerked to the side as you fought the controls with everything you had left. The impact was brutal. You slammed into the seat, the world going black for a split second before your mind jolted back into reality.

Your head throbbed, a sharp pain searing behind your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but everything felt off. Dizzy. The pain was sharp, but you couldn’t focus on it now.

Your hands still gripped the controls like you were trying to hold the whole world together. You could feel the tension in your neck, the tremor in your hands.

And then, the voice you hadn’t realized you were waiting for came through your comms, strained and desperate:

“Ace, talk to me. Are you okay?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to find your bearings. The crash had knocked the wind out of you, but you had to focus. You had to focus.

“I’m... fine,” you gritted out. Your vision was blurry, your head swimming, but you needed to keep it together. “I just need to—”

The world went black for a few moments. The crash had been rough, everything moving too fast, and then you were suddenly weightless, disoriented, and struggling to remember how you had even ended up in this situation. The impact had jarred you, rattling your body so hard you weren’t sure which way was up. The cockpit was filled with smoke, the once-pristine view of the sky now replaced by the harsh, metallic scent of burning fuel.

You could hear the sounds of the control tower in your headset, distant voices now muffled and indistinct. Your head throbbed, dizziness clouding your thoughts. Something was wrong—you were wrong—but the panic started to subside as your mind tried to latch onto something, anything familiar.

The sound of a plane's engines revving pierced the air, and that was when you realized you weren’t alone anymore. Jake's voice cut through the haze.

"Stay with me, Ace, I’m almost there" he barked, his tone uncharacteristically sharp, the usual cocky bravado gone. His voice was full of urgency, tight with a level of fear you hadn’t expected to hear.

You managed to open your eyes, the world around you spinning, but through the haze, you saw his plane descending in the distance—he was landing, landing without permission. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing he was disregarding protocol to get to you.

Within seconds, Jake's jet was on the ground, its wheels screeching as it touched down, and he was already sprinting toward you. There was no waiting for rescue teams, no giving orders. It was just him, and you.

Your chest was tight, your breath shallow, and for a brief moment, you wondered if it was all just a nightmare. Then, through the haze of your spinning mind, Jake’s face appeared—his eyes wide, his expression frantic as he reached the wreckage.

Without hesitation, he pulled open the hatch, the cockpit door groaning under the force. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t waste a second. He carefully pulled your helmet off of you. His eyes moving to the blood that was caused from the impact. His hands then started working to undo your harness, fingers shaking as he snapped the straps free, pulling you into his arms before you could even comprehend what was happening.

His breath was frantic, like he was holding it in, waiting for some kind of confirmation that you were really there. That you were still alive. And in that moment, as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, the world started to stabilize. Your breath came in shaky gasps, your head pounding as the dizziness slowly began to fade.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from your brain. The weight of your body felt heavier than normal, your limbs still stiff from the crash. But it wasn’t just your body that felt like it was slowing down—it was your mind. Everything was racing too fast, the adrenaline still pushing you into action, but in Jake’s arms, there was a moment of stillness. A second where nothing mattered but the fact that you were safe.

"Don’t you ever do that again," Jake muttered, his voice trembling despite the tough exterior he always wore. His words hit you harder than any of the physical pain, and you felt a strange, overwhelming wave of emotion rush through you. It was as though all the walls you’d both built over the years had crumbled with one unspoken truth. Jake was scared, and in this moment, it wasn’t about flying, or missions, or protocols. It was about you.

You barely registered that you were leaning into him, your chest falling against his as you came back to yourself, your body reacting without thinking, your mind still spinning. His hands were gently running over your back, soothing you, grounding you, even though you could feel the anxiety still vibrating through him.

“J-Jake,” you stuttered.

"I'm here. I’ve got you." His words were a soft mantra, repeated over and over as if he needed to hear them as much as you did.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog.

“I... I’m fine,” you said, your voice shaky as you pulled away slightly, lifting your head from his chest. But the moment you tried to step back, you felt his arms tighten, keeping you close. The intensity in his gaze was enough to make you stop moving entirely.

“No, you’re not fine,” he shot back, his voice low but full of conviction. His hands still rested on your back, holding you steady, like he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. He wasn’t just holding you. He was holding you like he was terrified of losing you. “You scared the hell out of me, Ace.”

You swallowed, feeling a weight in your chest you hadn’t been prepared for. The vulnerability in his words was jarring. He had never let his guard down like this before. But there it was—raw, unfiltered concern.

The words stuck in your throat, but somehow you found yourself meeting his gaze, feeling the space between you two close, the tension palpable.

"Since when did you ever care about me like that?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, more of a breathless thought than anything.

Jake froze, his hand still on your arm as he stared at you, his jaw tight, eyes searching yours. For a moment, the world felt suspended in that one breath between you two. He didn’t back away. Instead, his face softened, his expression caught between frustration and something deeper, something he wasn’t saying.

“Since fucking forever, you idiot,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion, almost a growl.

Jake stepped closer, his hand slipping from your arm to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the skin there in a rare, intimate gesture. The contact sent a jolt through you, and suddenly, nothing about this situation felt like just another close call. This felt like something else entirely. Something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“I thought I was gonna lose you today,” Jake murmured, his voice low, steady now but still thick with emotion. His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I can’t lose you, Ace. I don’t think I’d make it.”

The weight of his words landed heavily in your chest. The truth between you two was finally out, raw and real. You swallowed, trying to hold back the lump in your throat.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jake,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Not without you.”

Jake sighed and then asked you again, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice softer now. You still felt the ache in your head, the sharp sting in your chest, but it wasn’t nearly as important as the way Jake was looking at you now.

His hands slid down your back, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You could see his jaw clench, the words stuck somewhere between his teeth, and then he shook his head.

“Are you? You sure as hell didn’t look fine in that damn cockpit,” he muttered, his voice low and tight. “You could’ve—You’re the closest thing I’ve got to family out here, Ace," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I don’t know what I’d do without you." His words were a stark contrast to the cocky bravado he usually carried. This was real, and it was raw. "You don’t get to put me through that again, got it?"

You swallowed hard, your heart beating so fast it felt like it might explode in your chest. All the tension, all the unspoken things that had hung between you two for years, were now laid bare in the open. There was no hiding anymore. No pretending like you didn’t feel it, too.

“Jake…” you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, you pulled him down into a kiss—soft at first, tentative, but it was as if something broke open between you. You felt the fear, the relief, the longing all tangled up in that moment. His lips moved against yours, a little desperate, a little shaky, but it was real.

When you pulled away, you were both breathing heavy, eyes still locked, both of you trying to process what had just happened.

“I don’t know what this is, Jake,” you whispered, your voice trembling just slightly.

“I don’t either,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair as if trying to pull himself together.

The words hung between you two, thick with meaning. You didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe you didn’t need to figure it out all at once.

You both stayed there, in the middle of the wreckage, still alive, still here—and for the first time in a long time, that was enough.

But then, all too soon, reality crashes back in.

A voice from outside the cockpit, sharp and professional, cuts through the intimacy of the moment like a splash of cold water.

“Hangman! Ace!” The search and rescue team has arrived, and the urgency in their voice snaps Jake out of his daze. “We need to get them out of there, now. Base is requesting immediate transport.”

Jake pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself. His hand still lingers on your waist, the warmth of it grounding you, but his eyes betray a hesitation—reluctance to let go of the moment.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here, Ace,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself as much as to you.

You nod, feeling your heart hammering again, but for a different reason now. His gaze softens, and there’s a flash of something unspoken between you—a promise, maybe. You can’t quite find the words for it, but you feel it deep in your bones.

The medics are waiting outside, and with one final, reluctant glance at you, Jake starts to lift you away from the cockpit. With his steady presence, and one arm around your waist, he helps you out of the cockpit.

“Easy now,” he murmurs as he guides you down, keeping you close to his chest as if he can’t bear to let you out of his arms just yet. “Take it slow.”

As soon as your feet touch the ground, the search and rescue team rushes to assist you, but Jake doesn't let go immediately. His fingers linger on your arm, his gaze flicking between you and the team as if he’s weighing something—like he’s not quite ready to leave you in someone else’s hands. He hesitates, looking like he wants to say something, but the team is already ushering you toward the waiting helicopter.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, voice firm.

“Jake, you don’t have to—” you start, but he interrupts, his tone brokering no argument.

“No. I’m staying with you.”

The hum of the helicopter’s blades is loud against your ears, but everything else seems muffled as you lie back on the stretcher, still reeling from the crash and the kiss that’s left a strange warmth in your chest. The medics are busy around you, but you can barely focus on them, your mind still racing, spinning from the events of the last few minutes.

The moment Jake climbs in beside you, his presence fills the space. He doesn't hesitate, sitting down next to your stretcher and taking your hand immediately, his fingers curling around yours like it's the only thing tethering him to reality. His face is tight with worry, but the way he holds your hand gives you a strange sense of comfort, something steady amidst the chaos.

The medics move quickly, checking your vitals and assessing your condition, but you can barely register it, your heart still thumping in your chest as the adrenaline from the crash ebbs away, leaving you exhausted. One of the medics starts to remove your flight suit, carefully peeling it off your shoulders to get a better look at any possible injuries, leaving you in nothing but a thin tank top that clings to your skin.

You feel exposed, vulnerable, as the cool air brushes against your skin. It’s an unsettling feeling, but Jake’s hand is still in yours, and when the medic starts to prod at your ribs, you squeeze his hand instinctively, a shiver running down your spine.

“Hey,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he leans in closer, his gaze never leaving you. “Focus on me, okay? Look at me.”

His voice is calm, reassuring, and even though you're still reeling, his presence is grounding you, pulling you out of the haze of discomfort and medical poking. His thumb rubs small circles over the back of your hand as the medic continues his examination, but Jake doesn't flinch. He doesn't pull away.

“Just look at me,,” Jake repeats, his voice steady. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

You manage to meet his eyes, and the intensity of his gaze sends a strange warmth flooding through you, cutting through the nervousness. In this moment, it’s just you and him, as if the rest of the world has faded away. You want to say something—tell him that you're okay, that you don’t need all this attention—but the words get lost in your throat.

Instead, you hold onto him tighter, needing him to keep you tethered, to keep you from feeling so exposed and raw.

The medic moves on to checking your head, and you wince at the touch, the sting of pain making you flinch. Jake immediately leans forward, his hand tightening around yours as he shifts closer.

“Easy, Ace,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. Focus on me. That’s it.”

You nod, trying to focus on his words, trying to push the discomfort and the questions swirling in your mind to the back of your head. His presence is like a lifeline. His voice is the one thing that makes you feel like you’re not alone in this. Like you're not just another casualty.

“Once they’re done poking and prodding, we’re going to get you something strong to drink,” Jake says softly, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile as his thumb brushes against your hand once more. “And I’m not talking about water. I’m thinking something a little more... celebratory.”

A part of you wants to laugh, but you're too exhausted, too wired from the whole experience. Still, there's a glimmer of something in Jake’s eyes now, something more than just the mission or the tension between you. There’s something new in his gaze, like a shift, and you feel it too—this unspoken understanding between you both that things are different now.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" you murmur, your voice hoarse from the adrenaline. "One minute, you're flying like a maniac, and the next, you're talking about taking me out for a drink like it's a... date."

Jake’s grin widens slightly, the kind of smile that only happens when he’s completely unguarded. “I’m thinking it’s more than a date, Ace,” he replies, squeezing your hand again. “Maybe it’s a... celebration. You know, to celebrate you not getting yourself killed.”

His tone is playful, but there’s something real behind it, a tenderness that wasn’t there before. Something that’s been waiting to come to the surface for a long time.

The helicopter ride drags on as the medics continue their work, but Jake stays by your side the entire time, never letting go of your hand, his steady presence like a quiet promise that he’s not going anywhere. His words from earlier echo in your mind, and you realize that, for the first time, you don’t feel alone. Not with him here. Not after everything you’ve been through.

When you finally land back at base, you’re still a little shaky, but the thought of what Jake said—of what he hinted at—keeps you grounded, keeps you looking forward to what comes next, whatever that is.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader

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boltonbritreads · 4 months ago

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🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs

This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.

I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨

Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers

@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore

@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy

@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world

@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again

@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up

@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!

@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it

@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done

@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!

@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn

@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now

@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹

@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??

@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine

@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩

…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read

@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader

~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ♥️ ~~

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie x reader

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saltburnedme · 1 year ago

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My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again

Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)

You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.

‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.

‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.

‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.

You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.

The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.

You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.

‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.

‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?

‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.

‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.

‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.

‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.

‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.

‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.

‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.

Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.

‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.

Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.

Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.

You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.

Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.

‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.

‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.

‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.

‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.

‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.

‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.

‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.

‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.

‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.

Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.

‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.

His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.

‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.

‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.

Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.

‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.

‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.

‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.

‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.

‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.

Tag list - @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirl @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey

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ladyloveandjustice · 5 months ago

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So I have no stake in ships in Avatar the Last Airbender, I do not have any real ships for the show. But when I was looking in Katara's tag for art and stuff, I saw this reoccuring claim that Katara always supported Aang with his problems and feelings, but that Aang never supported her back with hers.

And I don't care about the ships, but I do really like the friendships in Avatar, and that bothers me. It's a slight on Aang, but also on Katara (implying she wouldn't stand up for herself and break it off if a friend was all take and no give, which doesn't fit her personality at all.)

Aang does support Katara whenever he gets the chance, which is unfortunately few and far between because Katara seems to have a hard time leaning on the people she cares about and talking in depth about her own trauma and feelings about it, though she will do so when she literally doesn't care what the person thinks about her (and both times she opened up to Zuko about her Mom initially were her lashing out at him and not caring what he thought about her in return).

This would be something that would need to be addressed for a romantic relationship between them to truly work, and I imagine it would be part of the journey of finding a way to stay together, but it's very much not Aang's fault. And as I said, when he gets a chance to support her she does. Since I just recently rewatched most of the series, have a list of those times!

-His first time being supportive of her is literally a half hour after they first meet. As soon as she tells him about wanting more waterbending experience, he enthusiastically offers to fly all the way to the north pole so they can find her a master. And this very clearly means a lot to her.

-I don't think Aang knew how supportive of her he was being here, but there's the "I haven't done this since I was a kid" "You still are a kid!' exchange. As much as people accuse Aang of seeing Katara as his Mom (he's literally the one character who doesn't express that he does in The Runaway btw and I think that's for a reason) their first interaction establishes that he sees her as a kid, just like him, and think she should have fun like a kid does. This must have been huge for Katara, who'd been forced to take on adult responsibilities at a young age, who resented having to hold the family together, who thought her childhood was over. Aang helped her have fun and be the kid she is, and he'll continue to do so.

-When she lost her mother's necklace (And Zuko subsequently stole it) he was very concerned for her feelings and seemed to immediately understand the weight of that loss, due to his own experiences with loss. Not only did he make her a new necklace to wear as a way to comfort her, as soon as he saw Zuko had it he said "you're giving that back to me" and risked being hit by Zuko in his attempts to grab it. Then he gave it back to her and she was ecstatic!

-He was so supportive of her during the waterbending scroll episode it's actually ridiculous, despite how she lashed out at him. It's unclear if he actually understood she was upset or if this was just his unwavering respect for her coming out, but when she was upset that he learned the first move faster than her he said "well you didn't have such a great teacher!" and it clearly makes her feel better for a bit. He immediately forgives her for lashing out at him, doesn't judge her at all for stealing the waterbending scroll, or for accidentally dragging them into trouble. He, in fact, goes out of the way to reassure her, looking happy at the chance to work together and reminding her they need two waterbenders. And he appreciates her joke at the end (he's just straight up being simp (affectionate) there, and I get it).

-When Pakku won't teach her he immediately denounces him as wrong and unfair and is willing to sacrifice his own education (which he needs to save the world) because he won't stand for it. He remains upset about it even after Katara persuades him, tries to secretly show her what Pakku taught him, and cheers her on when she fights him.

-When she's crying over Jet's death, he's the first one to notice and reach out to her, putting his hand gently on her shoulder and drawing her into a hug (that becomes a group hug). She smiles and clearly feels comforted. They probably talked about it offscreen too (but this cannot be shown as they would need to directly acknowledge his death to do so)

-He's pretty much always praising her as a teacher, and when she grumbles about him not calling her Sifu, he goes out of his way to call her that.

-He notices that she's mad at her Dad and asks her about it, but she deflects

-He looks really sad when he has to remind her she has to take off her mother's necklace for their Fire Nation disguises, again it's something he very much seems to empathize with her about, he understands the weight of what it means to her.

-He not only doesn't judge her for lying during the Painted Lady saga, but praises her and enthusiastically helps her commit ecoterrorism.

-Both he and Sokka move to comfort her when she's crying after the bloodbending fiasco. Most of the comforting of her happens offscreen, which I do think is a shame, and a contrast to how Aang is handled- but it's more of a "he's the main character" thing, since the same happens for Sokka as well (I'm sure Katara and Aang talked to him about Yue's death and at least tried to comfort him, but we don't get to see that).

-He was trying to support her during the Southern Raiders ep, whether you believe he did it well or not, both according to his beliefs and cultural values and by trying to emulate the ways she's talked HIM down from revenge and hatred in the past. He specifically brings up those two incidents- losing his people and losing Appa- where she stepped in to keep him from losing himself to rage. As this post notes, he also specifically echoes her phrasing from when she was urging him not to lose himself to the Avatar state (she says "watching you be in that much rage and pain is really scary" and he echoes "you're feeling unbelievable pain and rage" while talking to her in this ep.)

It's not just the air nomads he's trying to emulate here, but her. Just like Katara doesn't want to see him consumed by hatred and pain, he wants the same for her. His concern is not for her mother's killer, but for her, he fears this will hurt her, just like her concern was always for him and how this would hurt him in those times he was raging.

He wants to do for her what she did for him. But, Katara is not him. She is not someone who will be talked down by someone else when she is grieving, angry, and looking for revenge. Nobody can stop her when she sets her mind to it. She needs to wrestle with whether to kill him and she needs to come to her own conclusions, because she's the only one that can stop her. And Aang realizes that. He says it's a journey she'll have to take on her own, that she needs to face him doesn't stand in her way.

(I wonder if it kind of hurt, deep down, that he couldn't reach her the way she always reached him. I wonder if he felt upset that he couldn't find the right words like she did for him. But I don't think there were any right words. She needed him to step back. It was her choice to make. So he did.)

And in the end, he was correct that she didn't want to do it. She did choose that based on her own feelings and values.

His assumption Katara not killing the guy = forgiveness is definitely him just kind of applying his assumptions and values, but when she says she doesn't forgive him, he doesn't like, judge her or anything that we can see.

So yeah, quite a few examples! It can feel lopsided because more attention is paid to Aang and Katara's personality affects things.

Katara is both open about her emotions and not. She's someone who will look after other's feelings but not really discuss her own pain with people she cares about, until it all builds up and bursts out.

And it's not surprising she's most concerned about Aang, if my friend had recently (from his perspective) survived a genocide where he lost everyone he loved and was now tasked with saving the world at twelve years old, I'd be pretty worried about him and want to support him too! Aang goes through a lot by virtue of being the protagonist, he has the most pressure on him, he's routinely in the most danger, he literally dies for a few minutes. It's not surprising Katara has more opportunities to comfort him, but he unfailingly supports her in any of her problems of goals (when they're not murder) when he can.

I do think there's some missed opportunities to explore Katara and develop their relationship, but it doesn't make Aang a bad, unsupportive friend, or Katara his Mom and not his peer.

#aang #katara #will i ever stop with the meta posts i dunno why was this so long #avatar the last airbender #meta #atla

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undressrehearsal · 8 months ago

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is it casual now?

chapter 1

summary: you and ellie agreed that this was just for a little fun - so what's the harm in her inviting you to joel's for a movie night?

word count: 2.3k

tags: nsfw, fingering (e and r receiving), angst, dub con?? i think?, does this count as public sex?, this shit's messy af y'all, mean reader, toxic relationship

a/n: i've wanted to write a fic based off this song for a while now. i've seen a few people write it (the song's a banger) but i only ever see ellie being written as the distant toxic one and tbh i don't think that matches her character so here's the opposite

also i hid a one last stop reference in here if you find it you get a prize (it's not hard to find)

if you wanna be tagged in the things i post, just lmk in the replies!

Joel was trying to decide what movie you should watch.

At least, Ellie thought he was. She could see the way his lips were moving - could even make out the words Dawn of the Wolf, whatever that meant - but she couldn’t actually hear him. She sat across from him at the dining table, nodding along, trying to school her expression into a pantomime of interest, but his words were drowned out by the ringing in her ears.

Your hand on her thigh crept higher.

Ellie shifted in the uncomfortable wood chair, uncrossing her legs only to recross them, and your hand didn’t move. You stroked slow circles into her jeans with your thumb; she would have thought it was absentminded if she didn’t know you so well. Ellie could see you in her peripheral. You smiled politely, nodding along as Joel listed off what movies he had found lately - it had become his mission to hunt for them while he was on patrol. (He always insisted that Ellie needed to be familiar with all the classics from before the outbreak.)

Somewhere past the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, Ellie heard Joel say her name. She blinked, shifted in her seat again, and replied intelligently, “Huh?”

He shook his head at her and laughed as he said, “Where you at, kiddo?”

She ran a hand through her hair, purposely avoiding looking at you - she knew she’d only find that shit-eating smile on your face. “Sorry, had patrol late last night. Yeah, that movie sounds cool.” She had no idea what movie he had suggested.

It didn’t matter much in the end. After switching off the lights, Joel sat back in his big old recliner (he’d looked like a fucking kid on Christmas morning when Tommy gave that to him), leaving the couch to you and Ellie. You leaned into her with your head on her shoulder; she had her arm draped over the back of the couch, not quite touching you. She was dancing a fine line between wanting to hold you and knowing you wouldn’t let her, but the tightrope was slipping from under her feet because you had put your fucking hand on her thigh again. She’d swear there was a damn magnet connecting your hand to her.

Ellie covered a gasp with a cough when your hand drifted between her legs. Your eyes were glued to the flickering television, but there was no hiding the small, satisfied smile on your lips. And she fucking hated herself for wanting to kiss it more than anything.

The tattered blanket you shared covered up the fact that the tips of your fingers were grazing across the seam of her jeans. Even the ghost of friction made her squirm, the movie becoming nothing more than white noise. You were too fucking bold, and her head spun when your nimble fingers undid the button and slid the zipper down so slowly it ached. When your fingertips dipped below the waistband of her boxers, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Joel. He was enthralled in the movie, and she couldn’t even pay attention to it; she hated herself for that too.

She knew she shouldn’t; she knew she should’ve grabbed your wrist, told you to stop so she could just enjoy the movie with her… with Joel. He’d been trying to plan a movie night with her for a week, and tonight she had finally been free from patrol. God, she shouldn’t have invited you, but when he asked if she wanted to bring a friend, of course your name had popped up.

She should have known it would be a mistake - an intoxicating one, but a mistake nonetheless. And when you dragged your fingers over her, pressing the lightest pressure to her clit, it took everything in her not to tilt her hips against your hand in search of friction.

Ellie bit down on her lip so hard she'd swear she tasted blood when you dipped just the tips of your fingers inside her. It was embarrassing how easy it was - how wet she already was and you had hardly even touched her. But when you circled her clit, your fingers already soaked, the shame burning in her chest evaporated. Her eyes fluttered, heat burning in her stomach, your touch setting her aflame. Her fingers dug into the back of the couch. She longed to touch you, to just wrap her arm around you and hold you close, press your head to her chest so you could hear how her heart reached for you.

Instead, she could only grip the couch behind your shoulder, gritting her teeth against the ache of it. You didn't even look at her, playing with her as though it were an afterthought, but there was no missing the smirk on your lips. She hated it; God, she wanted to kiss you.

Ellie didn't dare look at Joel - she didn't think she could handle seeing him so engrossed in the movie he had been so excited to show her while she sat only a few feet away, coming undone on his couch. She couldn't handle the shame rising in her throat again. If she looked at him, she was sure she'd be sick right there.

She tried so hard to keep it together - her hips ached from the force of holding them still, her lip surely cracked from biting it. Her chest burned with the moans she had to swallow like acid. But she couldn't keep it all in - it was overflowing. And when finally, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap, a low groan spilled from her lips, Joel turned to look at her.

Ellie didn't want to think about what he saw, but whatever it was, it made his brow pinch in concern. She couldn't meet his worried eyes when he said, “You okay, kiddo? You don't look too good.”

Your fingers hadn't even fucking slowed. You looked at her with a mask of concern, batting your eyes so innocently even as you pressed your fingers into her, curling them so you hit that spot that made her see stars. And then Ellie did grab you, gripping your shoulder in warning and glaring down at you. You wrinkled your nose, but relented and slid your fingers out of her; her grip tightened when you slid back over her clit. Fuck, she never should've invited you.

Ellie cleared her throat; she couldn't look at either of you without feeling sick, so she turned her gaze to the movie. What was it even about?

“Sorry, I just-” Her voice was strained, suffocating in her own throat. She felt like she was going to swallow her own tongue. The coil in her stomach tightened and she felt nauseous. She groaned again, and the words tripped over themselves in a rush when she said, “I don't feel good.”

Ellie stumbled to her feet, forcing you to withdraw your hand; when she glanced down, she could see that your fingers were wet and it made her stomach twist. Keeping one hand over her stomach to hide the fact that her fucking pants were undone, she hurried from the room, ignoring Joel when he called after her. She couldn't look him in the eye or else she might actually puke.

Making a beeline for the bathroom, Ellie slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, the wood cold against her back. She took a deep breath, counting the cracks in the ceiling until her heart finally stopped bashing against her ribs, her throat burning. Pinprick tears stung her eyes as she fixed her pants, her fingers shaking so hard she could hardly grasp the button.

Cursing under her breath, Ellie braced her hands on the bathroom sink, her shoulders sagging. Her eyes were rimmed red; she scrubbed her hands over her face roughly, willing her stomach to settle.

She shouldn’t have been upset, really. The first time your hand had found its way into her pants, all those months ago, you had made it perfectly clear what this was. She could still hear your voice from that night, saccharine sweet and smelling like the whiskey you had nabbed from her cabinet: Come on, Els, Jackson’s so boring. We can just have a little fun, right? She remembered the weight of your body when you climbed onto her lap, your thighs warm on either side of her hips, your hands pressing her back against the couch. She could still feel the way your breath had ghosted over her neck, your voice dripping with honeyed desire: It's just a little fun.

Her own eyes looked so unfamiliar, a stranger peering at her from the bathroom mirror.

Cursing again, she turned on the faucet, bending to splash water on her face - it was December and the water was so cold it numbed her hands. It was a welcome relief against her burning skin.

Ellie felt so fucking dirty it hurt. No matter how she scrubbed at her skin, rubbing it raw, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it. The cold water stung her cheeks.

A knock on the door made her jump, cold water splashing down the front of her shirt. She cursed, pulling the damp fabric away from her chest with a grimace before calling, “Give me a minute, okay?”

But you had never been very good at listening, had you? You didn’t even look surprised when you pushed the door open, ignoring her protest, and found Ellie leaning against the counter, water still dripping from her chin. If anything, you looked almost amused, quirking an eyebrow at her. It was the look you gave her every time you got her worked up, your eyes showing the laughter you bit back. She fucking hated that look.

Ellie glared over her shoulder at you, but there was no real malice behind it - even when she hated you, something in her still softened when you were around. A switchblade girl with a cotton candy heart.

You closed the door softly behind you, leaning back against it with a smug smile that she wanted to wipe off your face - she just wasn’t sure how she wanted to yet. Ellie could hear how your ego tinted your voice when you said, “Joel sent me to check on you. Probably thinks you're barfing your guts out or something.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, looking away from you and mumbling, “Yeah, I guess dinner didn’t sit well….”

You scoffed and the sound went straight to her stomach. She felt rather than saw you step behind her; she tensed when you placed your hands on her hips, leaning forward to put your chin on her shoulder. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink so hard she thought the porcelain might crack. She could feel the heat of your body all the way down her back, your hips pressing into her ass, and her traitorous heart fluttered embarrassingly.

Ellie met your eyes in the reflection, watching as your smile grew into something almost mocking. You placed a kiss on the back of her neck, pressing your words into her skin: “Damn, Els, I didn’t know Dawn of the Wolf got you so hot and bothered.” Your fingers pressed into her hips, pulled her back against you. She failed to smother the sigh it pulled from her. She hated how it made your smile widen, and she hated even more how much she wanted to fucking kiss it off your stupid face. She shivered when she felt your teeth graze over her neck, and almost missed it when you muttered, laughing, “God, you’re so fucking easy, you know that?”

Ellie shoved away from the counter, spinning on her heel and grabbing your wrist before you could flinch away. You had only blinked before she slammed you back against the wall, praying that Joel didn’t hear it. Her fingers wrapped so tightly around your wrist she could feel your pounding pulse, pressing it to the wall above your head. She slipped her thigh between your legs, pressing up into you, and she only had a moment to register that smug fucking grin before she slapped a hand over your mouth. She relished in the way your eyes flashed in something akin to fear. She had to find wins where she could, right?

Leaning forward so her nose brushed yours, Ellie growled into the back of her hand, “Don’t make a fucking sound.”

And she did get to wipe that cocky smile off your face. She kept her hand over your mouth, releasing your wrist to snake her arm between your legs. She muffled your moans, hissing when your nails dug into her biceps.

Joel was in the next room, she thought distantly. Joel was in the next room, watching the movie he had been so excited to show her. He was in the next room, concerned about her, waiting for her, and here she was pressing her best friend into the wall of his bathroom. She had your pants around your ankles, two - three - fingers pushing into you. She could feel the vibrations of your moans against her hand - she wanted to press her lips to yours and swallow them, knowing you would never let her.

It came too fast, Ellie pressing into you relentlessly if only to make you fucking shut up for once. Your body shuddered against her, and she wanted to hold you through it, but by the time it was over you were already pushing her away. When her hand fell from your mouth, you were smiling again. Maybe she was going to be sick after all.

@filtered-sunlight

#are you proud of me that this isn't 10k words #idk how many chapters i'll write #i'm kinda winging it rn #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #lesbian smut #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #tlou smut #tlou angst #this is p angsty

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mayullla · 11 months ago

Text

Title: You didn't know what to do.

Character(s): Neuvillette (Genshin Impact)

Summary: Neuvillette asked you to go on a date with him on Valentine's day. Warnings/tags: Yandere, obsessive behavior, arranged marriage setting, one-sided love, unrequited love, unrequited pining, possessive behavior, angsty, 1.4k words

A continuation for: 1. There is no love here. 2. But he didn't want to let go.

It was something that was going to happen at one point as he walked through the streets and saw decorations with pink and red heart designs. With Valentine's just around the corner, there were advertisements for it everywhere. From delicious chocolates and fancy restaurants to lists of what you should get for your picky partner posters.

Neuvillette didn't care much about the event in the past, and you didn't care much for it either. The day was too busy most of the time to go out and actually have time for yourselves. It called for too much attention compared to if you were to go out together on other days. It wasn’t like there were any rumors that you and his relationship were having problems to fix. If anything, a lot of people use the two of you as a reference for a loving relationship.

Neuvillette changed after the day when he cried on your hand, begging you to love him. He became sensitive to everything humans and others do. He observed human closeness and open affection, wondering if he could have the same. Not necessarily in public, as he was not keen on kissing so violently in public, yet he envied the love between them, the affection openly held in their eyes as if in this world there was no one else but them. After all, he knew that the affection you held in your eyes was never the kind of love they had between themselves.

Yet he wanted that. He wanted it so much. He wanted you to look at him with those eyes, not only in front of others but also when you were alone in the house, just the two of you.

He wanted it so much that it was hard to concentrate on anything.

Are you free on February 14th?" Neuvillette asked as the two of you walked together in the park, your arm around his while he held your hand. People glanced at you and him, but most made sure not to stare too long, yet you could see that they were curious.

"Hmmm? I think so... I don't have any plans then. Why do you ask?"

"I reserved a table at the restaurant. I was hoping that you would join me." The fancy name of the restaurant made your eyes widen a little. While it was a restaurant you would sometimes go to, it wasn't really a place where you could just waltz in and hope to find a seat without a reservation. Most of the time, you need to book a month beforehand. On a day like Valentine's, though, it would be practically impossible, even if you did try to book six months before.

You were curious as to why he would go so far, yet when his hand held your tongue, his eyes with a smidge of panic, you just froze instead of nodding your head, telling him that you would go. You smiled at him, "Yes, I would love to go."

The next day, he gifted you an expensive dress and accessories, hoping that you would wear them that day. After that incident, he started to gift you more presents, material stuff that he picked himself while receiving the help of others. As you stared at the present that you were given by a Melusine, cheerfully telling you that it was from your husband, you didn't have the will to stop Neuvillette when so many times he looked at you so fearfully that you might decline his gifts.

It wasn't like in the past, back when you were newlyweds, when he wasn't sure how to care for a wife, and he bought everything that you touched. Yet at the same time, the gifts now felt more like a desperate plea not to leave him.

You had made sure to stay with him. After that day, Neuvillette moved your sleeping quarters to his. His tight hold around your waist as you moved your arms around his head and neck, whispering in his ear and combing through his hair. It seemed that he would become frightened if you didn’t, ridden with anxiety until you reassured him of your promise to never leave him.

You weren't sure what to do when your husband was so sensitive to anything related to you. You were startled by this change after hundreds of years of having a quiet and peaceful relationship. You could not help but wonder if this was the same person you first met a long time ago. You could not help but wonder if the person who sat in the middle of the courtroom was the same man who was obsessive and possessive in the privacy of your own home.

The Melusines didn't understand what was wrong. They commented that your relationship with Neuvillette was closer, while those who saw something dark in Neuvillette's heart chalked it up to him just having a bad day. Most were still learning about human emotions, and many wouldn't understand the mania inside the obsession. If anything, they thought he was stressed and needed to be with his wife when they saw the darkness inside fading just a little. They thought you were the key, if anything, to calm their father.

You looked at the collar brooch that you had commissioned: a blue teardrop with little orange and dark blue stones held by a gold frame. It was something that you were given by a Melusine on one of your walks. She told you that she found a beautiful rock and wanted to give it to you and Neuvillette. You had kept it for a long time along with the many gifts you were given by them in a box, finally taking it out when you found a way to make it into jewelry. Closing the case of the box, you took it with you, placing it in your bag to keep it hidden.

You are here… Are you ready?" Neuvillette asked, raising his arm to offer you his shoulder to hold onto. "Yes, I am," you told him, wearing the dress that he had given you. It was more expensive than what you usually wore. You weren't an extravagant spender, but you did have many clothes that a lot of people would dream of having. Heading to the restaurant, you kept your eyes in front of you, unable to look at him.

You knew he was looking at you…

“You look beautiful today…” Neuvillette whispered loud enough for you to hear. It was as if all the air left his lungs and he could barely say those words with what was left. “Thank you. You look handsome yourself.”

The question of why again circled in your mind as you wondered how this happened. Under his lovestruck eyes, you felt no more than a heavy burden.

You were confused... you didn't know how to handle the situation just yet when everything hit you all at once. You hesitated when you saw the hopefulness in his eyes whenever he looked at you or the envy and want as he looked at other couples. Yet the pain continued to hurt as he held onto you so tightly.

"I have a present for you," you told him in a soft voice. In the restaurant full of people, he chose a room for privacy. You pulled out a box from your bag and placed it on the table for him to reach. "Here, I hope you like it."

Thank you. May I open it now?" Taking the box, you saw the curiosity in his eyes, the hopeful look that you started to see so often now, but also a touch of affection. You let him, motioning that he was allowed to do so. You watched his eyes widen at the gift, slowly turning affectionate, and a slow smile spread across his lips.

The slight blush on his pale cheeks as he touched the stone with his hand made you think that it was okay, that he was actually fine and that this was going to be alright. His innocent expression as he looked at his gift in silence was something you were familiar with for a long time now, yet that was all taken away the moment he looked at you. The blush on his face darkened when he looked at you, and his eyes were dyed with love and obsession.

You couldn't move for a moment, unable to pull your eyes away from him. He looked happy. He looked for a moment content, yet at the same time, you realized that there was nothing more than this as the two of you would continue to spiral down to the depths of the ocean, drowning in want and love.

"Thank you."

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