#That’s something I didn’t expect and it’s not easy but they and their music are helping me so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saetoru · 7 months

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Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

#bye #this is so obnoxiously long for a silly little jumble of thoughts #maybe i’ll flesh it out and make it an actual fic tho #bully! gojo tag

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tasteracha · 4 months

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a/n: hyunjin’s piercing got me. this is not proofread this is a mess of my incoherent thoughts. can be read as idol hyune or non idol! gn!reader. smut - minors dni!

he’s a little too nonchalant when he walks through the door, the hi, love he throws at you a little too casual.

he did something. and he’s afraid to tell you.

you’ve known him too long, been with him too intimately, for him to be able to hide things from you. you can read him better than a violinist reads sheet music.

“come here,” you call out to him, eyes trained on him as he moves towards you, shaking his hair into his eyes in the process.

strange. he didn’t like his hair in his eyes, if anything he would more likely push it out with expert fingers.

he sits on your right side, which is definitely not the seat he prefers on the couch. he chooses the seat by the armrest so he could lean against it, most of the times with you draped halfways over him and halfways over the rest of the couch.

the suspicion is stacking up like perfectly placed dominos, and before he could protest you’re taking his chin in your hand and turning him towards you, pushing his hair back with the fingers of your other hand.

and there it is. a shiny set of metal, embedded into the skin above his eyebrow. an eyebrow piercing.

“what the hell is that,” you ask him, voice just tinged with hysteria as you take in the new piercing.

“do you not like it?” he asks, mistaking your shock as displeasure. the way his face falls a bit makes your heart ache.

“baby no, i love it,” you scooby closer to him, making his own space yours. “i just can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“i wanted it to be a surprise?” he says, bashfulness lacing into his words. “you really like it?”

“shut up,” you give into the urge to straddle his lap, swinging one leg over him so you could look at him fully. “you’re so hot, oh my god.”

“i’m not god, i’m your boyfriend,” he teases, a smile quirking onto his face, and there he is. any shyness he had bleeds away into preening under your attention.

instead of telling him to shut up, which in your experience never works, you crash your lips against his with a fervor you almost didn’t expect from yourself. you run your hands down his chest as he responds in kind, his hands bracing on your waist to keep you steady against him.

you release him, lips popping against the suction, and when you lean back he looks wrecked. already. his lips are reddened and wet, eyes blown wide with pleasure, evidence of his lust pressing against your crotch.

you can’t help but reach up to cup his face, your thumb brushing past the reddened skin around his piercing and he hisses.

“sorry,” you mutter, moving your hand away, but he stops you with a burning hand on your wrist.

“like it,” he doesn’t meet your eyes, but the tips of his ears burn red. oh. memories of him moaning at the feeling of your teeth sinking into his neck, him throwing his head back in pleasure at the feeling of your nails raking down his back, him coming to the sharp, twisted movements of your hand in his cock flood your head; this shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you. he’s always been a little bit of a slut for pain.

you massage your thumb across the skin there for a bit, soothing him with kisses to his jaw and his neck and his lips until he was almost shaking.

“let me suck you off?” you toy with the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and he shivers under you.

“you literally never have to ask,” he sighs as you slither off his lap onto the floor, kneeling between his legs. he’s painfully hard when you take him out of his pants, his cock red and glistening and so wet that the first glide of your lips against him is so easy.

it doesn’t take long to get him close, expert motions of your hands and your lips and your tongue bringing him to the edge in record time. you almost feel bad not drawing this out, but this isn’t for him. it’s for you.

you graze your teeth along his shaft and he breaks, thick ropes of cum coating your tongue and lacing around your mouth. you make a show of licking him clean, pushing his release into your mouth and swallowing it obscenely. he groans and throws his head back when you swipe little kitten licks against the head of his cock, making sure every bit was taken care of.

“maybe you should get this pierced next, hmm?” you look at the head of his cock pointedly, letting out a laugh at his horrified expression.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines

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sp0o0kylights · 28 days

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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset.

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it.

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud.

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds.

Still.

Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink.

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations.

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say.

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’

Nope.

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure.

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake.

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them.

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through.

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing.

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse.

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something.

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here.

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may.

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?”

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house.

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him.

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.”

Likely a lot of things.

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it.

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give.

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.”

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice.

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked.

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle.

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat.

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth.

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.)

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?”

Wayne nodded once, slow-like.

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again.

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?”

“I did.”

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say.

Wayne took advantage.

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.”

“‘Bout trust.”

Eddie blinked at that.

“Trust.” He echoed flatly.

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--”

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.”

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him.

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.”

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway.

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with.

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.”

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like.

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns.

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.”

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.”

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had.

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.”

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.”

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.”

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through.

Wayne sat with him as he processed.

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did.

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked;

“What if he finds out?”

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home.

It took Wayne a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret.

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over.

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly. It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself.

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved.

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’

“He won’t.” Wayne said.

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.”

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side.

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other.

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest.

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose.

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine.

Hurt, absolutely, but alive.

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body.

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol.

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door.

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch.

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible.

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup.

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him.

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely.

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior.

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.)

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!”

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it.

Wayne rolled his eyes.

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door.

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries.

“I think I promised you a game, son.” Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall.

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

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neo-nomatrix · 11 months

Text

10 Things I hate about you

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 1120

(My) Nuisance masterlist

Synopsis: You have hated your neighbor for one year, 3 months, and 8 days. You hate his hair, his boots, his obnoxious music, and most of all you hate the way you love him

a/n; This is the last part of the main (My) Nuisance story! Other installments will be on parters about reader and Hobie before and after the main plot. Thank you to everyone who loves this story it means the world to me!

Being neighbors with Hobie has been one of the most frustrating, exhausting, and confusing experiences of your life. He has truly put you through hell and back.

1. I hate the way you talk to me and the way you do your hair.

If someone had told you one year ago you would be completely head of heels for Hobie you most likely would have laughed in their face. If someone had told you he was the man under Spider-punk's mask you would have jumped off a bridge right then and there. Yet here you are, searching your brain for answers about Hobie and his feelings wondering what you got yourself into.

2. I hate the way you lie to me and your stupid boot buckles.

The unbearable truth was, Hobie got to you. Most importantly he hurt you in the process. You weren’t supposed to get close to him, you weren’t supposed to fall in love with him but you did. He had completely forgotten about the night before and it hurt you more than anything. You genuinely thought he liked you, as luck would have it he confessed to you that he was a compulsive liar when he drank too much. Leading you into realizing he didn’t mean it, why would he? He seemed like the type who would flirt with you just as a fun game, you didn’t know what you were expecting.

3. I hate you so much it makes me mad, it makes my head spin, my stomach ties into knots, makes me weak in the legs.

Was that what this was? A sick joke? A game to him? Just thinking about that made you want to scream at him. Yell at him, tell him how angry you were with the fact that he played with your feelings. You wanted to scream at him and give him a piece of your mind. Yet you couldn’t. You have always been able to yell at Hobie, always. Even over dumb things like the way he talked. But now, it’s different. You wanted to get up and yell at him but you stayed sitting on the ground. Legs to your chest and you just sat there. Unable to move, frozen in that position.

4. I hate it when you’re out all night drinking and the way it makes me worry, worry so much that I stay up all night waiting to hear your stupid boots.

You hear a knock at the door and know it’s him. Of course it’s him, in your time living here he was the only person to ever knock on your door.

“Love? I- I want to talk to you. Can you let me in?” He asked, his voice quiet.

5. I hate your stupid smile and the way you purposefully play your guitar too loud just so i’ll come over.

He takes your silence as an answer, he’s about to say something and then pauses.

“When you were in my room you found a box. It had your stuff in it and a letter. I wrote the letter for you. You deserve to read it. I have your necklace and ring too, sorry bout that,” he gave you an awkward laugh.

“No, I shouldn't have even known about it,” you’re surprised you could even speak to him, “I don’t want to read it either,” you say quickly.

“You have a right to know what it says, okay? At least let me tell you.”

6. I hate that you were so easy to fall in love with.

A few seconds after he finished talking he turned the doorknob and walked into your flat.

“I don’t know what I said to you last night but I'm sorry. Whatever-“ you cut him off before he can finish.

“Don’t. I know you didn’t mean it so don’t. It doesn’t matter now I'm over it,” you brush him off.

“So uhm, what did i say exactly?” He questions

“I said it doesn’t matter, piss off!” you snap.

You both look away from each other, unable to speak.

7. I hate the way you hurt me and the way you made me get close to you. It would be so much easier to despise you if you weren’t so handsome.

“The letter talks about how much I love you, alright? Ever since the day we met and you gave me that stupid note I have been in love with you. You really don’t see the way I look at you? Or- or how I'm extra loud when I know you're trying to sleep? I would do anything just to look at you, that is how in love I am with you. I don’t know if you’re really just clueless or you’re trying to ignore the signs but I am pulling every string to try and make you fall in love with me. Is that what you want to hear?” He’s out of breath by the time he finishes. Tears are brewing in the corner of his eye.

8. I hate it when you say exactly what I want you to say.

“Yeah, actually it kind of is. You told me that it hurt when I didn't show up for our date. I thought you did like me, but then you said you lied when you were drunk. And I don't know why but I believed you,” You confess.

9. I hate it when we don’t talk and the way you make me feel. I hate that I didn't understand those stomach knots were me falling in love.

“No no no, I thought I said something that would upset you. Of course I meant that, Love,” he said, holding your face in his hands. The cold metal of his rings touching you.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything else,” he smiles. God that stupid smile.

“You also, kind of told me something else. You said you were uhm, Spiderman?” you nervously asked.

He visibly tensed up.

“Oh that, well I guess there’s no point in lying huh?”

“So you are?”

“Yeah, for the last three years. But I don’t believe in labels, they’re stupid,” he shrugs

“That’s pretty embarrassing for me then, hm?” you look around your spiderman themed room.

“Nah, I think it’s pretty cute,” he says, making you blush.

“Why don’t we start over? We can go out on a proper date, forget any of this happened. I promise, no standing each other up and we’ll be so happy,” He says, grinning ear to ear.

“Alright then, where should we go?”

10. You especially hate the way you don’t hate him at all. You don’t like him either. You love him. You’re in love with Hobie Brown, your nuisance.

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*If your user wasn’t tagged and showed up as just text it’s because you have something changed in settings

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slu7formen · 25 days

Text

luke castellan x fem!reader

You knew that your friend, Luke, was a tease. What you didn’t expect, was that he was going to be a tease to you.

while I finish writing part two of this story (btw, thank u so much for all the love it’s getting) , I drop this one out here for the wait <3

warnings: teasing, praising, drinking, kinda s3xual tension

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

The bonfire crackled merrily, casting flickering shadows on the faces of the demigods huddled around it. The air thrummed with the low beat of stolen music from a borrowed radio, a symphony of laughter and easy conversation punctuated by the clinking of ice inside your plastic cups. Exhaustion from a particularly harrowing week of monster attacks had finally settled in, driving the older campers to this clandestine revelry deep within the safe haven of the camp's woods.

Across from you, Clarisse was emerged in a play-fight with his brothers, not truly a good idea based on the drunken state they were in, but who would tell them otherwise? Travis and Connor were huddled together, their whispers punctuated by bursts of laughter that hinted at some upcoming evil plan or prank. You could practically see the gears turning in their heads. Silena leaned towards Katie’s ear, whispering some secret that boys couldn’t know about, her voice barely a murmur.

And Luke Castellan sat next to you, his presence warm and familiar. His profile bathed in the golden glow. You'd known him for years, a bond forged in shared battles and late-night training sessions. But lately, you'd begun to see him in a different light. The way his muscles tensed beneath his t-shirt as he tossed another log onto the fire, the glint in his dark eyes - it all sent a delicious flutter to your stomach.

Reaching for your empty plastic cup, you realized with a groan that you'd polished off your cranberry juice and vodka concoction. Glancing sideways at Luke, you noticed his cup held a suspicious-looking red liquid that gave off a pungent, almost medicinal smell. "Let me have a sip of yours" you declared, leaning towards him without even questioning.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. Your cheeks, flushed from the alcohol and the warmth of the fire, were undeniably red. Your lips, slightly puffy and wet, was not something his eyes would miss either. But he'd never admit the effect you had on him, not here, not amongst their friends.

"Not sure that's your thing, doll" he pointed out, looking down at his drink for a second. "You won´t like it"

You knew you were pushing your luck, but the defiance simmering in your blood, thanks to the vodka, wouldn't be ignored. "Come on, Luke" you pout, placing your chin on his shoulder. “If you can drink it, why can´t I?”

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "I don't think you can handle it" he said with a little smirk on his face, the playful challenge in his eyes impossible to miss. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way he was looking at you, but a spark of competitive spirit ignited within you.

“Oh, yeah?” you challenged. “Just watch me, then” you declared, snatching the cup from his hand before he could protest. You were so sure of yourself. The liquid was a fiery red, the strong scent even more potent up close. You took a tentative sip.

It was horrible.

It was like drinking liquid fire infused with cough syrup. A strangled cough escaped your lips and you sputtered, your eyes watering. Luke chuckled slightly. You sputtered, almost spitting the liquid out in disgust.

Before you could fully react, Luke's hand cupped your chin, surprisingly gentle despite the rough calluses that adorned his palm. His eyes held a mischievous sparkle. "Take it all down now, you told me you could handle it"

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way his words sent a thrill down your spine, but you were determined not to back down, especially not in front of him. Fueled by a mix of pride, the burn of the liquid fire, and a strange flutter in your stomach thanks to Luke's closeness, you took another swig, then another, determined to finish it. You ignored the way your throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper and the fire that seemed to erupt in your gut.

Suddenly, a loud "Chug! Chug! Chug!" broke the silence. Travis and Connor, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, started a rhythmic chant. Silena and Katie soon joined in, their cheers echoing through the clearing. You choked down the rest of the concoction, gasping for air as it burned its fiery path down your throat.

The cheers reached a crescendo as you slumped back, eyes squeezed shut, your head swimming. As the commotion subsided, you dropped the plastic cup with a clatter. You felt dizzy, and your throat felt like someone had lined it with sandpaper, but a sense of accomplishment washed over you. You'd done it.

Suddenly, a gentle touch on your chin startled you. You blinked your eyes open to see Luke leaning in, his gaze holding a playful spark. With his thumb, he brushed away a stray droplet of the red liquid that had escaped your lips during your valiant chugging endeavor.

The simple gesture sent a jolt through you. It was so unexpected that your breath hitched in your throat. Then, in a move that stole the air from your lungs completely, he lifted his thumb to his lips and sucked off the red droplet. Eyes on yours, the whole time.

"Good girl" he murmured.

He turned away then, casually rejoining the conversation with Chris about their upcoming training session. But you couldn't tear your gaze from him. The playful glint in his eyes, the lingering warmth on your chin from his touch – it all played on repeat in your mind.

Gods, you thought, your head swimming from a potent mix of alcohol and newfound desire. You really wanted to be anywhere else right now. Anywhere with him, away from the prying eyes and teasing laughter of your friends. You felt crazy in the matter of just a few seconds. You couldn´t let this slide, you just couldn´t.

You couldn´t deny the wet patch on your panties either.

You stood up, maybe a little too fast for the state you were in, but you managed to look down to Luke, who was already looking into your eyes the moment you stood up.

“I´m going for a walk. Care to join me?”

inspired by this right here, with a little change <3

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo smut #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines

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wooyoungiewritings · 5 months

Text

Fire and water - Seonghwa x Reader

Summary: When you walk into the mechanic, you don't expect to see Seonghwa, the most intimidating person you've ever laid your eyes on. He's the complete opposite of you. But he opens the idea of something you've never considered, and before you know it, the door he has opened for you is already locked behind you.

Word count: 6K

Genre: SMUT

Warnings: smut, fem reader (fem pronouns), reader is very innocent and hwa is very not (lol), nicknames such as kitten and princess, oral sex (f receiving), hwa smokes, semi public sexual activities, lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

The intense smell of gasoline and oil fills your nose as you step into the unfamiliar space. Generic rock music plays from the radio and a few random posters hang on the walls. It doesn’t seem like the most professional place, but a car with an open hood in the middle of the room, assures you that you came to the right place. Your eyes scan the repair shop for someone to assist you, but the silence is enough of an answer for you.

You knew you arrived at a late hour, having spent most of your day getting lost in the books at the library, but a part of you hoped you could make it before closing time. It was a simple Google search for the nearest mechanic that had you end up here, but you didn’t think twice to see the closing hours.

Your legs guide you further into the room, careful not to touch anything you shouldn’t. This is the first time you’ve been to the mechanic with your car that you bought a few months back. It was an already used car when you bought it, but you could get it cheap and desperately needed something to help you get to school. The feeling of being in here is intimidating in itself, having little to no knowledge of cars, but a lamp in your car display has been screaming for attention for way too long, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Are you lost?” The voice surprises you and you turn around to see a tall figure walking into the room.

Seonghwa.

The tall, lean, beautiful man you’ve seen in the hallways of your university. He is always wearing an oversized old-school leather jacket, messy black hair, black nail polish, and has a cigarette in hand 24/7. He and his group are known on campus for being too intimidating to talk to, but somehow every time you see them, they each have a new girl wrapped around their finger. They party when everyone else is sleeping, don't care about what people are saying about them and they will fight if they have to.

You’ve only spoken to him once when you accidentally walked in on him and a girl kissing in the library. You were searching for a specific book and made your way to the back rows of the library. As you were in your own head, you turned a corner and saw him with his tongue down her throat, her hands running through his (then) white hair. Your instant reaction was to freeze in your spot, panicking. This was the last thing you expected to see, especially at the library.

As Seonghwa removed his gaze from the girl trapped between him and the shelves, and his eyes watched you carefully, you immediately woke up.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” You quickly said, turning around. Cheeks quickly blushed, and you felt the embarrassment rush over you. Not even for them, but for you.

You heard the girl mumble something to Seonghwa, and a second later, she passed you and walked out of your sight. Heart pounding fast against your chest, you slowly turned around before your eyes landed on Seonghwa. Relaxed, he was leaning up against the shelf with his arms crossed, staring you down.

“You can take what you came for.” His low voice spoke.

Slowly you walked further down the row, trying your best not to look at Seonghwa. Focused on the note in your hand with the book name you were searching for, you scanned the rows for the book. It seemed like an easy task, but you felt Seonghwa’s eyes locked on you with every move you made, making this simple mission impossible.

Your eyes kept going over the same place again and again, slowly getting frustrated that you couldn’t get your shit together.

As you looked down on the note again, reading the same line for the 29th time, you suddenly felt something watching over your shoulder. The smell of gasoline and cigarettes surrounded you, and it was like everything froze again. Seonghwa’s presence was close to you, but he wasn’t even touching you. You slowly turned your head to the side, and Seonghwa was peeking over your shoulder, looking down at the note in your hand.

Not a word was said when he lifted his arm, grabbed a book, and handed it down to you. Your breathing stopped as you saw the book you were so desperately looking for, resting in Seonghwa’s hand. Your hands slowly reached out for the book, and you couldn’t help but look up and see his eyes watching you with no expression. You couldn’t tell what was going on behind those eyes.

“Thank you.” You whispered, not being able to get more words out.

“You’re welcome.” He answered coldly, still watching your every move.

Was he pissed at you for interrupting? Was he tired? Was he happy? Relieved? You had absolutely no idea.

So you quickly saw your opportunity to get away, sending him an awkward smile before you practically ran away.

And that was the first and only time you’ve spoken to Seonghwa. Until now.

“No, I was looking for someone to help me.” You say, knowing he’s been waiting for an answer for a little too long. “I need an oil change.”

He takes a few steps further into the room, and you notice the white towel in his hands, filled with black oil stains. He’s wearing a black tank top and jeans, also filled with black stains.

You didn’t know much about him, and you had no idea that he worked here. Looking back though, it made sense for you. He was often seen with a “dirty” outfit, with black oil stains on his clothes and skin.

“Brave of you to walk in here in an all-white outfit,” His eyes travel down your body, and you suddenly feel small. You look down at yourself in your white cardigan, white skirt, and white knee socks. Of course, you didn’t think much of it when you put your outfit together this morning. “Give me five minutes, I just need to finish this,” He walks closer to the parked car in the room, throwing the white cloth over so it rests on his shoulder.

Restless, not knowing what to do with yourself, you step closer to the wall, trying your best not to be in his way. “Careful standing too close to that, or you’ll get oil on your skirt. It stains. You can sit on the stool over there while you wait.” He points at a black stool in the corner and you quickly find your way over there so you can let him work in peace.

You take your time studying the place, not knowing if it’s normal to have a conversation at a place like this. How long will this take? Does he own this place? Should you leave him alone? You decide to focus on the rock music playing while you silently watch Seonghwa do his thing.

He’s leaning over the open hood of the car, screwing something and rubbing his hands in the white cloth after. You might not have any idea of how to repair cars, but he makes whatever he does look so easy. He knows exactly what to do and how to do it.

He closes the hood of the car and walks to the other corner of the room. You can’t see what he’s pressing, but suddenly the metal wall behind you goes up, and you look behind you to see other cars parked outside. It rolls all the way up, and Seonghwa walks to the car, gets in, and drives it out of the room and to the parking lot.

You silently watch him as he comes back and walks towards you. “Alright, can I have your keys?” He asks, reaching out his hand. You’re quick to hand him the key with a heart keyring attached, and there’s a tug on his lips as it’s placed in his hand. “Be right back.”

A moment later, he arrives in your car, parks it in the middle of the room, and walks out to close the metallic garage door again. Once it’s closed, he grabs a few things from racks on the walls and walks to your car.

“You want me to do a routine maintenance check as well? I have the time.” He asks as he opens the hood.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” You say as confidently as possible. Truth be told, you just want to have your car fixed so you can go home. Seonghwa doesn’t respond, he just grabs a mechanic’s dolly, lays his back on top and suddenly his upper half is under your car. A few moments pass by in silence, the only thing filling the air is the music playing and the sounds of metal crashing as he works, and he rolls back out and goes to work in the front trunk. Leaning over your car, working and changing the oil, he once again looks professional and focused, and that makes you curious.

“You work here a lot?” You ask.

“Yeah, every day pretty much.” His back is turned to you, but you see him pull out a pack of cigarettes. He places one in his mouth, flicks the lighter, and a cloud of smoke escapes. His body turns towards you, the pack of cigarettes in hand. “Want one?”

“No, thank you.” You shake your head. He continues to work on your car, cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Is that safe?”

“What?”

“Smoking. While doing that.” You point to the car. You’ve seen too many movies including fire and cars, so a quick concern washes over you, scared that a huge fire would suddenly occur.

“Smoking is never safe. You’re always playing with death when turning one on. If you’re asking if it’s safe to smoke over an open hood, then it’s inconsequential. Your car won’t blow up if that’s what's worrying you.” He glances back at you. His black hair is pushed back, but a few strands have fallen down into his face.

“If it’s not safe then why do you do it?” You can’t help but ask, curious if he really doesn’t care or if it’s just an act.

“Helps me concentrate.” He simply answers, going back to work. “What about you?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“No, do you do anything that's bad for you?” Another cloud of smoke fills the space around him, and he rubs his hands in the white cloth, leaving black stains. The black oil on his hands blends in with his black nail polish, and somehow it looks good.

Just like he was that one time in the library, he’s once again impossible to read. And his question leaves you silent for a moment, not knowing what to answer.

“Oh… Uhm, I don’t know. I don’t think so.” You shrug, and a light scoff comes from Seonghwa.

“Shocking.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your brows come together in question.

His body turns to you, eyes going down to your outfit, hand gesturing to you. “You look like you’d be spending a week in church if you walked across a red light on the street.” There’s a small tug on his lips as he speaks. He’s entertained by you. You look like the complete opposite of him. In your white outfit, knee-high socks, and white little skirt you look like a saint next to him in his all dirty, messy black clothes. Like fire and water, you're the opposites.

“Well, I don’t.” You say.

“You don’t have to take it as a bad thing. Church girls can be full of surprises.” There's something hidden in the way he says it, and the smirk on his lips makes your cheeks blush. “I’ve seen you at school, you know. Often at the library, surrounded by academic books you probably read just for fun.”

“Well, I like the idea of knowledge. It gets you further in life.”

“It depends, doesn’t it? Don’t you think knowledge can hold you back from doing certain things too?”

“Maybe. But I also just like staying at the library. It’s fun.”

Another scoff leaves him, and you get the feeling that he’s mocking you.

“What?”

“If your idea of ‘fun’ is reading at the library, then I’d love to see you on a Saturday night.” He sends you a smirk before going back to focusing on the car. His back muscles tense as he works over the open hood, and you can’t help but stare. The black tank top really does him justice as he moves his arms around, and you shake your head, trying to focus on something else.

“What do you study?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

“Business, language and culture.”

“So you don’t wanna be a mechanic?”

“Still figuring it out.” He answers shortly. “You study what?”

"Psychology.”

"So, those biochemistry books I see you with at the library really are just for fun?" He raises an eyebrow and smirks, making you feel annoyed that he has you figured out so easily.

“As I said, I think knowledge gets you further in life.” You justify. He shakes his head in disbelief and you hear something close to a chuckle leave him. The sound is nice, especially since you’ve never heard or even seen this man smile. So this small chuckle is enough for you to continue this small banter you have going. “You don’t look like the type to go to the library.”

“I don’t think we use the library for the same reasons.” He turns around toward you again and takes a long drag of his cigarette. He leans up against your car as your eyes lock on his figure, eyes piercing on you as he blows out the smoke. “Do you know about the library’s back room, princess?” His nickname for you makes your mind blank, and you shake your head no. “Proves my point.”

“What’s the back room?” You’re curious.

He’s studying you for a moment before answering. “A place to fuck.”

Like a switch, your entire expression changes and you feel your cheeks heat up. Never have you heard of this ‘back room’ before. No, you probably (absolutely, most certainly) wouldn’t even use it if you had known about it, but it shocks you that it’s a thing.

Seonghwa’s smirk grows on his lips as he studies your face. “Your expression says it all. You’re such a good girl you couldn’t even hide it if you wanted to.”

You fall silent for a moment, not knowing what to say or how to move on from here. Until you’re reminded of the first time you spoke to Seonghwa.

“I saw you at the library once. With a girl.” You say shortly.

“Yeah, I remember. The back room was occupied so I took her down to the part of the library no one comes to. Well, except you.” The way his eyes are locked on you while talking about this is making your heart beat faster.

“Is it even allowed?”

“Would it ruin you to break the rules once in a while? Have you ever had sex in public before?”

“N-no!” Your cheeks are burning at this point.

“Don’t hate it till you try it. It's thrilling.” You’re not sure but you think you see him send you a wink as the smirk grows on his lips. A few more strands of hair have fallen down in his eyes, framing his face perfectly, before he runs his hand through his hair to push it back. It makes you fall under his trance for a moment, but you quickly flicker your eyes away, scared to fall for the beautiful brown eyes of his.

“So what, you only go to the library to sleep with someone? You don’t think there’s a better place to make love?”

“‘Make love’, how adorable.” Seonghwa is full-on smiling at this point, enjoying this conversation the more it escalates. The way your cheeks reddened, the slight shake in your voice, your flickering eyes. It’s clear to him that you’re not used to talking about these kinds of things, and he loves it.

“I don’t see what’s funny.” You say.

“You make love on your honeymoon. You fuck everywhere else.” He says, as a matter of fact.

“I don’t.” You disagree, fighting to keep your eyes on him and not back down from his piercing ones.

“No, I figured.” Another cloud of smoke leaves his lips and frames his face before continuing to fix the car, still looking back at you occasionally as you’re having this conversation. “You’re seeing anyone?”

“No.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. His gaze on you seems so intimidating, even his presence itself. There’s a confidence, almost an arrogance to him that makes him so unnerving. But despite this, you can’t help but ask further. “Do you? Since you use the ‘back room’?”

“You only fuck-” He stops himself and holds his hands up. “Excuse me, make love, with people you date?” His questions make you fall silent for a few seconds.

You don’t know Seonghwa well, so this conversation is not exactly what you expected. This question could also open an entirely new topic of conversation that you weren’t sure would be comfortable for either of you.

The conversation about sex is not normal for you, especially since you’re not the most experienced. Despite having been in a relationship with the guy who took your virginity, it didn’t end the way you had dreamed of.

You had always romanticized the thought of losing your virginity to the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but when you found out he had cheated on you during your relationship, your world crumbled. At the time, all of your insecurities came to life, and despite knowing you had done nothing wrong in the relationship to prevent this, you couldn’t help but feel like you had done something wrong when it came to sex.

With time, you promised yourself not to let your ex have an effect on you, so you did everything you could to gain back your confidence, and you did.

You clear your throat, taking your time to find the right answer. “Well... I’ve only made love to one person and that was my ex. So yes.”

“And you only stayed in the bedroom?”

A moment of silence.

“Yes, we did. I just don’t understand why you would do it anywhere but in the bedroom. There’s literally a bed, I can’t imagine how uncomfortable everything else must be.

Seonghwa throws his head back before looking at you in disbelief. “I didn’t think you could get any more good. You must be first in line to heaven when doomsday comes.” He puts his smoke out in the ashtray on a working table next to the car. “Public sex is not about how comfortable it is. And just because it’s public, does not mean people are watching you. That’s a whole other kink.” Seonghwa is slowly making his way towards you on the stool. His large frame is closing in on you, speaking in a lower volume as he’s coming closer. “It’s the feeling of someone possibly being able to see. Having to keep quiet, being close, finding whatever excuse you have to leave and drag the other person into a random room. Comfortability is not a necessity at that point. Then you don’t care if you fuck in a bed, against a table, or the hood of a car.”

He’s standing right in front of you. You try your best to control your breathing as he looks down at you, you have to look up at him through your eyelashes. The smell of cigarettes surrounds you as he is near, but there’s also an obvious pull of something dangerous yet addicting when being close to him. You don’t know where it comes from, but you can't help but want more.

You’ve never caught yourself thinking of Seonghwa this way, but he’s awfully good at wrapping you around his finger and thinking of things you’ve never had before.

“So what, how does this ‘backroom’ work?” You suddenly ask, almost surprising yourself. What did you want with the information? You have no idea.

Seonghwa finds your questions endearing. The innocence in your voice has him smiling, letting you see his perfect teeth. You’ve never looked at him so closely, you find yourself so fascinated by him. The raw, scary persona he is, but yet his face is perfectly made like an angel. Soft and beautiful. You suddenly find yourself completely under his spell, studying his every feature.

“What, tempted to give it a try? I can show you if you’re interested.” There’s a hint of something in his voice, you can’t tell if he’s kidding, but even the thought of him taking you to the room, has you notice a certain heat between your legs.

“N-no, I’m just curious.” Your voice shakes from how close he is to you along with his words.

“Careful with that. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” He then steps back and walks back to the car to continue working on it as if nothing happened. Seonghwa is working over the open hood, unaware of how he left you feeling inside.

Your heart is beating fast against your chest as he casually works in front of you. Like he turned on something inside of you, you suddenly notice things about him you didn’t before. How his hand curls around the wrench, how his shirt lifts when leaning over the car, exposing the skin on his waist, and how his muscles tense when he works. His jeans hang low, just below his waist, revealing even more skin and you somehow can’t help but look.

“Getting awfully quiet over there, princess. Your mind running?” Seonghwa’s head turns to you, catching you looking at him. Your eyes go to his, and you both freeze. He studies your face for a few seconds before grabbing the hood of the car and closing it. You both look at each other, a certain tension between you.

“Come here,” Seonghwa says as he leans against the car. Your body hesitates to do as he says, but you eventually cave in and get down from the stool to slowly make your way towards him.

Seonghwa throws the white cloth on the table before looking down at you. The smell of cigarettes and oil enhances again as you’re close to him, and Seonghwa taps the hood of the car with his hand. You look at the hood, suddenly unsure of everything you do, but push the thoughts away and jump up on the hood to sit. Your feet dangle, but you freeze when Seonghwa steps in front of you, resting his hands on either side of you.

“You’re thinking of something special?” His low voice asks. He’s searching for your eyes, but your heart is pounding and your eyes struggle to stay in one place. The heat between your legs is driving you insane, never having felt like this before.

“No... Maybe.”

His eyes continue to study your face. His expression is still impossible to read, yet his actions make you feel a whole new type of way.

“Look... I’d gladly take you, right here right now, if you want. We don’t even have to fuck, I can just make you cum if that’s what you want.” His bluntness throws you off, yet you didn’t expect those words to have such a big impact on you.

“Won’t someone come in? Or hear?” You worry.

“No. They won’t.” He whispers, slowly leaning forward.

You can’t tell what’s happening, even if you had a gun to your head. Seonghwa is not someone you should be spending time with. He’s the complete opposite of you, yet that draws you in like nothing else.

“Okay.” You cave in.

Not a second later, Seonghwa’s lips are on yours. Everything is happening so fast, that your brain isn’t even realizing who you’re kissing. The guy you’ve seen scare people away from their seats is having his hands on you, pulling you closer for a kiss. His tongue slips through your lips and you allow his every move.

It’s a whole new experience to kiss someone like Seonghwa. The taste, the moves, the desire. He knows what he’s doing, and the confidence shines through, even just through the kiss.

He pulls back, leaving you thirsty for more, and a small tug on Seonghwa’s lips assures you that this is actually going to happen. “First… How do you usually like it, kitten? How do you like for someone to make you cum?” He whispers.

“I’m not.. no one has ever... I mean-”

“No one has made you cum before?”

You try analyzing his question in your mind before you shake your head no.

“I thought you had a boyfriend a while back?”

“I did..”

There’s a short moment of silence where Seonghwa just reads your face and takes in what you just told him. “So let me get this straight... You only had mediocre, boring vanilla sex with this guy, he never made you cum and you still dated him?” He lifts an eyebrow, trying to understand the situation. You slowly nod, confirming his question. “Did he ever cum?”

“Every time.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding... Now that’s just selfish of him,” He removed a piece of hair from your face and leaned his face closer to your ear. You felt him slowly press his lips on the soft spot on your neck before gracing his lips over your ear. “Can I get the pleasure to be the one to make you cum, princess?”

“Y-yes.” You’re almost panting at this point, craving his touch more than you’d ever expect. Seonghwa holds your face in his hands as he presses his lips hard against yours again. The smell of cigarettes surrounds you as you get lost in him, yet you for some reason get addicted to the idea of him. Like he’s your kind of nicotine.

“I’ll try not to get oil all over you.” He assures as pulls away from you.

“That’s okay.” You tell him, suddenly not caring about the stains. This makes Seonghwa’s lips turn into a smirk, slightly amazed at the sudden change in you. His hands run up your thigh, leaving black stains from his fingerprints on your skin.

“You like the idea of my fingerprints on you? Looking in the mirror when you get home and seeing my hands on your thighs?” He goes to kiss your neck as his fingers dig into the flesh on your things. Unable to speak, you nod, wanting him to touch you even more. “Lean back for me, kitten.”

You scoop further back on the hood of your car, leaning back on your elbows to get a view of Seonghwa. His hands go to your hips to drag down your underwear till it completely leaves your body. The cold air hits your heat as Seonghwa parts your legs to lean over the hood and get a better view of your cunt.

“Gosh, you’re glistening, princess. Are you that wet already? The idea of cumming in a public space is turning you on now?”

You don’t get to react before his tongue suddenly slides between your folds, getting a long taste of you. The feeling makes you gasp, but you quickly cover your mouth with your hand, silencing yourself as much as possible.

“You taste so sweet, kitten.” He continues taking long strokes in between your folds, making sure to lick your clit as well. You look down to see his fingerprints on your thighs, turning you on even more. A moan escapes through your lips as he starts focusing on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on the sensitive nub. You can barely say anything as he takes his time, eating you like he craves you.

“I can’t believe someone had the chance to make you cum, and he didn’t even do it right.” Seonghwa shakes his head with a smirk before taking a few more deep licks against your pussy. “How embarrassing of him.”

“Will you... do it right, then?” You asked, looking at him with doe eyes. Seonghwa stands up further to look down at you spread out on the hood in front of him. His fingers, still stained slightly with black oil, go to your chin, and tilts your head up slightly to get a better look at him.

“Kitten, you’re gonna wish you came to me sooner when I’m done with you.” The look in his eyes almost works like a promise before he leans down to your pussy again. “Tell me how you like it, princess. Use your words.”

Once again you have to fight yourself to get actual words out when he runs his tongue between your folds again. This time, he focuses on your hole, slipping his tongue in before licking up your pussy again.

“Like that... That’s really g-good.” You manage to get out, already feeling the shocks through your body when he licks the right places.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He spits down on your pussy before going back and to lick it again. Your legs slowly give up, but Seonghwa holds them open, allowing him full view and access. He goes back to sucking your clit, making you moan through your hand once again. “Best cunt I’ve tasted, kitten. Sweeter than anything.”

His tongue works around, he knows what he’s doing. He occasionally looks up at you, making eye contact as he runs his tongue between your folds. This makes you go absolutely crazy, seeing him go down on you like this. Eating, slurping you up. The sounds from the repair shop are out of this world, filled with your moans and him slurping all the juices from your pussy.

“Please don’t stop.” You throw your head back in pleasure, slowly feeling your orgasm approach.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He grins. His mouth goes to your clit again, sucking and rolling his tongue over it. Restless with your hand, it goes to his hair and you grab a handful. The black locks in your hand look amazing as his face is against your cunt, eating and licking you up. Your abandonment starts to send shocks through your body, Seonghwa having to lock your legs down so he can continue.

The feeling is overwhelming, you can barely hold back your moans anymore. His tongue is flat against your pussy as he flicks your clit with the tip, making sure to hit all the best spots. He works fast, barely letting you get used to one way before he moves next to the new.

“Seonghwa, I’m gonna-” You moan his name as the feeling of your orgasm quickly starts to form. Lastly, his tongue goes to your clit, sending you over the edge. Your whole body is a shaking, moaning mess as he eats you out of your orgasm. He doesn’t miss a spot as he slurps up the juices from your pussy, licking you one last time, everywhere, before separating himself from you.

You look up to see his chin glistening from your orgasm. He has a smirk on his lips as he pulls you up to sit and presses his lips against yours. Quickly, a specific taste of something mixes as you kiss, his tongue added as well.

“You taste yourself on my tongue?” He asks confidently, and you quickly realize what the taste is. You. “Amazing, don’t you think?” He smirks before giving you one last kiss before pulling slightly away. He stays between your legs as you scoop forward a bit, still on the hood but with your feet dangling now.

“Should I.. with you?” You almost whisper.

“No need, princess. Eating your pretty pussy was enough for me.” He smirks as he places his hands on each side of you. You blush again, never having someone comment on your pussy before, but you can’t help but like how it sounds coming from him. “So.. first time having someone make you cum and it being in a public space. What do you think?”

“It was.. fun.” You admit, speaking the truth. The rush of doing it here, with Seonghwa, at his place of work was not something you ever expected to happen, but it had a thrill you never felt before.

“See, that we can agree is ‘fun’. You have school tomorrow?” The change of subject throws you off for a second, having to get your mind clear after just having the biggest orgasm of your life.

“Yeah,” You reply, remembering something important, “How much do I owe you?” Your words leave him with a wrinkle between his brows.

“For eating you out?”

“N-no! For the uhh.. the car.”

He looks somewhat relieved after you clarify, “Oh... I don’t know, it’s hard to say. I know you said you didn’t want a maintenance check but I couldn’t help but notice that your serpentine belt is filled with cracks.”

You don’t even know what a serpentine belt is.

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“That means that it’ll break at some point and then you’ll risk getting stuck in the middle of the road because your car can’t drive.” He explains, and you suddenly understand the situation. You can't help but notice how quick he is to move on, talking about your car after he just had his tongue in between your folds.

You know he's not a stranger to sex, but that also intimidates you.

“Oh..”

He reads your expression for a second as you try to figure out what to do. You don’t want to be stuck in the middle of the road when driving, knowing that’s gonna be even more expensive. But it’s late, so leaving your car here would mean that you would have to order a cab or take the bus.

“I’m done here for the day. How about I give you a ride home? Then we’ll drive here together from school tomorrow, I’ll finish your car, and you’ll get to drive home in a car that doesn’t have the risk of crashing down at any moment?”

You look up at him to see his expression back to its usual unreadable one, “I mean... If that’s okay with you?” You ask.

This makes him smile. He looks down on your thighs to see the stains he left on you, before meeting your eyes again.

“Of course, kitten. I’ll just grab my stuff.”

He then disappears away and into another room, leaving you on the hood of your car. The fingerprints on your thighs are a raw indication of what has happened tonight, and you’re sure your clothes are stained with black oil as well.

When he arrives again, he’s wearing his black leather jacket. You follow him to his car outside, and he drives you home. When you arrive at your apartment, you can’t help but look in the mirror immediately. Seonghwa’s fingerprints are all over your thighs and hips, almost marking you. Your cardigan, skirt, and socks all have stains on them, and there’s a slight embarrassment in your gut when thinking of what happened tonight.

You can’t help but feel embarrassed at the thought of seeing Seonghwa in the hallways of the university, especially since he has to pick you up from school tomorrow and go back to the place where he just gave you your biggest orgasm. But even so, you’re even more tempted to walk through the door he just opened for you. The wilder side, the dangerous and unfamiliar.

It makes you blush even thinking of him, and when your phone suddenly buzzes in your hand, you’re shocked to see a certain name on your screen.

Seonghwa made you save his contact when dropping you off, saying it was for future car problems. But you didn't expect a text already, and you know the door he has opened for you, is already locked behind you.

Seonghwa See you tomorrow, kitten

Taglist: @canigotosleep--plz (comment if you wanna be added to my taglist!)

#ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez #ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #kpop imagines #kpop fic

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milkteabinniechan · 1 month

Text

bath water | hwang hyunjin

part two

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY ☕| m.list

pairing: virgin! hyunjin x afab reader

warnings: oral (f. receiving), some angst, lots of smut, hyunjin is just learning hehe

a/n: this is a continuation of this story. This was a labor of love and I feel personally connected to this so please go easy on me, thank you for reading!

Your phone hadn't buzzed yet. Hadn't rung once. You cleaned your apartment. Twice. You reorganized your closet. You washed your hair. You played loud music. He still hadn't called.

Brrt Brrrrt. Your phone jumped on your desk. Not so gracefully, you leaped to grab it. "Buy one, get one on all hand soap! Now through Sunday." You squeezed your phone in your hand. A goddamn promotion. How evil.

You lay your head on your pillow, slaying arms out wide. Your eyes blur and unfocused, making shapes in the ceiling. You let your eyelids close. Suddenly you were back in that bathtub. Hyunjin's fingers appearing in and out of focus. You could hear the water, you could smell his cologne.

Brrt. Brrrrt. Now you were imagining things. Pretending your phone was ringing. You really were losing it. You glance down at your closed fist, phone inside. The light shone through your fingers. A cute picture of a ferret peeking through, Hyunjin’s contact photo. You shot up from your bed. This was real.

“Hey…” his voice was low.

“Hey, you…” Your voice was shaking, “what’s up?” attempting to sound casual, you hoped it was convincing enough.

“Not much, just bought some new watercolors, some brushes. They’ve got this great sale going on at…”

Hyunjin continued talking about his day. His voice was chipper, like nothing had happened. He sounded warm, so warm. You clutched your shirt.

“...what about you?” his voice back in your head.

“Oh! Not a lot. Just some spring cleaning, ya know.”

Hyunjin paused. “You hate cleaning.” He huffed. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

The conversation continued like that for a while. A few pleasantries, a few inside jokes. He made you giggle, so hard you would snort, making him laugh too. After a long fit of laughing and funny voices, there was a silence between you. You both sat in it for a moment.

“So…” Hyunjin cleared his throat, “I wanted to ask you something.”

You clutched your shirt again.

“Do you think I could… paint you again?”

Days later you found yourself at Hyunjin’s apartment again. New plastic sheets on the floor. Neither of you had discussed what happened last time. He just asked to paint. That is all he wanted. You stared down at the plastic. Then up at Hyunjin, taking a deep breath.

“Where do you want me?” you spoke in a clear, confident voice, hands on your hips. A power pose. However, you felt like feathers and cotton candy on the inside, so fragile.

Hyunjin pulled up some photos on his phone of women with painted stomachs. Beautiful works of art sprawled across skin. Your stomach flipped. Your mouth dried up.

“Is this okay?” Hyunjin lowered his phone and met his eyes with yours. He had an intensity that shot through you like a bullet. All your feathers and cotton candy would melt away if he stared at you like that for even one more second.

“Of course.” You clasped the hem of your shirt and began to pull up. You expected Hyunjin to turn away, like last time. But he didn’t. He stood right there in front of you and watched. He watched your shirt graze past your stomach, past your breasts, up over your head. Your eyes met his as your shirt fell to the floor. One of your bra straps slipped off your shoulder. Hyunjin reached out and grabbed it, pulling the strap back up.

“Let’s get started.” He turned toward his supplies, unwrapping fresh, unused brushes and paints. You nodded your head and lay flat on your back, plastic crinkling underneath you as you adjusted and moved.

The first brush stroke across your lower abdomen felt exactly as you remembered. The cool paint countered your hot skin. You try your best to steady your breathing, letting out small I’m sorry’s every so often. It was different then the first time, however. Now you could see his face. His eyebrows pressing together in concentration, slightly biting his bottom lip, tilting his head to get the best perspective. You felt heat building in your core as his paintbrush traced lower and lower down your stomach. Your thighs clenched together involuntarily. You willed your body to stop. To not give away the awful, dirty thoughts that were going on inside your mind. You heard Hyunjin clear his throat and set his brush down, maybe to grab a different one. You closed your eyes and tightened your mouth into a thin line. You braced yourself for the soft bristles again, only this time there were no soft bristles. There was skin, fingers dipped softly into watercolor. You would know those fingers anywhere. A thumb ran down your outer thigh, a long streak of paint followed along with it. Then an index finger drew another long, thick line down your thigh. You bit your lip hard, so hard you feared it may bleed. You squeezed your eyes together tightly.

Hold it together. He’s just using a different medium. Don’t get off to this.

Unfortunately, your body was not listening to your brain. Your body wasn’t listening to anything except the feeling of Hyunjin’s fingers against your skin. He ran another paint soaked finger from your knee up to your inner thigh, causing your legs to open in response. You bucked your hips slightly at the sensation of Hyunjin being so close to your core.

“Hyunjinnie…” you moaned softly. A wet spot already forming on your panties.

Hyunjin hooked his paint covered fingers around the hem of your panties, coloring them in purples and blues. He lowered them delicately, exposing just the top of your cunt. He lowered his head and kissed gently, but hungerly. Like that first kiss was going to save him, he bowed his head like praying for a holy light and he had finally found it.

“I want to taste it.” He spoke deep into your clothed cunt. He wanted to enter the gates of heaven, not just paint the Sistine Chapel.

You lifted your hips and helped pull your panties down the rest of the way, the plastic sheets still crinkling beneath you. Hyunjin grabbed both of your legs simultaneously, bringing them to his chest, so your open, wet cunt was exposed and displayed for him. You watched his eyes, and there it was. That concentrated and intense look that left you vulnerable and unable to move.

He kissed your wet core like the way he used a paint brush. His tongue was innocent at first, giving small licks, waiting for you to open up for him like a flower. The muscle moving like music, so very conscious of every reaction that your body gave him. Then you bloomed for him. You pushed your hips into his face sparingly, not wanting to overwhelm him. This was so new, so fresh. The first push of your hips jarred him slightly, his eyes met yours from between your legs. You could see his smirk again from under your thighs. He drove his face further into you, making you arch your back, the plastic sheet slipping from under your elbows.

Hyunjin let his eyes roll back as his tongue continued its holy work. Lapping and licking every inch of you. Your lips now swollen at the marvel of his mouth.Your hips were thrusting at a faster speed now, climbing toward your own release.

“Come inside my mouth.” Hyunjin muffled from inside of you. His breath was hot with each word.

Both of your bodies wet from sweat, you carded your fingers through Hyunjin’s hair and gripped tightly, giving yourself leverage and momentum to ride his tongue harder. The paint on your stomach still wet, dripping down onto the floor. Grinding, grinding, grinding into Hyunjin’s open mouth, you could feel the tense bundle of nerves reaching their climax, you were starting to see stars, you were no longer on this earth, in this solar system, you were something entirely new.

Your climax held there in the air for a moment. Like you were both floating, just inches off the ground. Paint had spilled everywhere. Hyunijn lifted his head back up, panting and out of breath. Saliva fell from his open mouth, dripping down his swollen lips and chin. He smiles wildly.

“So…” you huffed in between panting breaths, “anywhere else you want to paint me?”

#stray kids #skz smut #stary kids hyunjin #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #skz hyunjin #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz requests #skz reader insert #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #writing

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spookysteddie · 4 months

Text

That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it.

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees.

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted.

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous.

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!”

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?”

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.”

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers.

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.”

…

You should’ve changed your mind.

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you.

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time.

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face.

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands.

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long.

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it.

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-”

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.”

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!”

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels.

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?”

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus.

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus.

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually.

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts.

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that. The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs.

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.”

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you.

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.”

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?”

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was.

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.”

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?”

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen.

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke.

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again.

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet.

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening.

Photos are fine.

Everyone must be tagged.

Nothing negative.

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar.

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines.

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?”

You nod, “y-yeah of course.”

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over.

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer.

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.”

…

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more.

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason.

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.”

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something?

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes.

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there!

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.”

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured.

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.”

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not?

“‘Precious babies?’”

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.”

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne.

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him.

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan.

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.”

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.”

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close.

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.”

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?”

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.”

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?”

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.”

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent.

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…”

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?”

So, you do.

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name.

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times.

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos.

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music.

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.”

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care.

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back.

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him.

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him.

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.”

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.”

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you.

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes.

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.”

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?”

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.”

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top.

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you.

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right?

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center.

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone.

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid.

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.”

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.”

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans.

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No.

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.” He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers.

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?”

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous.

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.”

“V-very.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!”

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.”

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.”

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully.

“Fuck, Eddie.”

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.”

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft”

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it.

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.”

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?”

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.”

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.”

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?”

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it.

“Oh god! Please.”

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.”

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down.

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.”

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’

“And now… we wait.”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

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lovelyjj · 5 months

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hey there! I was wondering if you could do one where reader is John B's sister and he knows that JJ and her have a thing for each other but he won't allow it. Then something happens where she needs comforted and JJ gets to her first and John B realizes that JJ does really love her..? or something idk 😍💕

John B’s Sister

jj maybank x reader

wc: 2.6k

*some bits of dialogue is from season 1: episode 1*

The music was blasting. The party was in full swing at the boneyard. You were at the center dancing your heart out. JJ was watching you longingly. John B was right next to him overseeing JJ’s actions.

“Don’t even think about it,” John B warned.

“Think about what?” JJ questioned.

“Dancing with Y/N.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it mate,” JJ retorted.

“Right.”

“I’m gonna get another drink,” JJ shared.

When JJ went to the drink area he ran into you. You were getting yourself a drink and taking a break from dancing. You were all sweaty but JJ thought you looked ethereal.

“Here let me,” JJ filled your cup up with beer and handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against each other’s when he handed you the cup. You felt sparks shoot through you at the contact.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

“You look really pretty,” JJ commented.

“You think so?”

“Yeah I do,” JJ smiled.

“Thank you.”

“I’d ask you to dance but John B would have a cow,” JJ laughed.

“Aw screw him!” you voiced.

“Are we really gonna let John B become between us?” JJ spoke.

“He’s my brother JJ, and I love him. He’s just trying to look out for me. I don’t want to make him mad,” you stated.

“Well he probably doesn’t like the idea of me with you, given my reputation.”

“Probably not.”

“I’d do anything for you I hope you know that. Your worth all this chaos, so damn worth it.” JJ spoke sincerely.

“You’ll wait for me?” you asked.

“Of course i’ll wait for you, I’d wait a hundred years just to see you smile, let alone date you.”

“I promise one day we will be together.” You smiled sadly.

“Can’t wait,” JJ then kissed you on the cheek.

You both got swept up in the party and went different directions. JJ went to where John B was and he soon began to think that was a bad idea.

“I saw you talking to y/n. You know she’s off limits right.” John B began.

“Jesus dude, I know you think I’m trying to get in her pants but I really do love her. Of course i’m not gonna act on it. I know the rules and I wouldn’t do that to you,” JJ confessed.

John B clapped JJ on the back, “Good on ya mate, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.”

The party eventually died down around 2am. It was dark and the keg was practically empty. You retired pretty late and crashed in your room. Unbeknownst to you JJ was also crashing at your place.

When you woke up the next morning you could feel the hangover. You made your way to the kitchen for an Advil and some water. You didn’t expect to see JJ sitting on the couch.

“Good morning,” JJ spoke.

“Morning, my head is pounding,” you acknowledged.

“I’m sorry wish I could help.” JJ responded.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah but I could of told you to take it easy on the drinks.” JJ countered.

You laughed. You weren’t sure if you would’ve listened to him if he told you that, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s ok things happen.”

“Do you want to hang out with me?” JJ asked.

“Um yeah sure I have to go to the grocery store at one point but other than that Im free,” You explained.

“Alright let’s go.”

The grocery store wasn’t that busy and you were thankful it wasn’t.

“What do you need?” JJ questioned.

“Well, I need cereal, butter, fruit, bread, cheese, chicken, and beer.”

“That’s not too bad we should be in and out of here pretty quick,” JJ responded.

The two of you went up and down each and every aisle. You used teamwork to complete the list.

“Just think one day when we live together we will do our grocery shopping together for our apartment,” JJ said excitedly.

“Yeah that would be fun.”

JJ put his hands on your waist to scoot behind you and reach something on the top shelf. You felt dizzy from the proximity and the feeling of his hands on you.

JJ put the item in your cart and continued looking for more.

“Hey after this do you want to hit the beach?” you asked him.

“Yeah sounds good.”

Eventually you finished up at the store and got everything you needed. You went to the château to change and out the groceries away. Then you were off to the beach.

When you arrived you decided to lay out your towels and lay on the sand. It was nice to hang out just the two of you. John B was probably off with Sarah and therefore not supervising you and JJ.

“This is nice,” JJ voiced.

“Yeah it is,” you laid your head on his shoulder. JJ’s arm came up to wrap around your waist to pull you closer.

The two of you talked for hours on the beach enjoying each other’s company.

————————

A few weeks later you were out on the boat. It was a nice day for boating. You and the pogues were out on the marsh exploring the sunken boat.

The salty air flowed through your hair as you sat in your bikini top and shorts. The smell of the ocean brought you a sense of peace, being out on the water was therapeutic.

Of course you were interested in the shipwreck but you loved being on the water. John B went to dive under using the scuba gear from Ward. Then the cops came while he was still down there.

Once they finally left we were all anxious about John B. Was he ok? He ran out of air that’s for sure. Thankfully John B emerged from the water and seemed to be alright.

“There his is!” JJ exclaimed.

“Oh, God! Jesus Christ!”

“Thank god,” you breathed.

“Don’t scare us like that!” Pope said.

“How’d it go down there?” JJ asked.

John B put up the ok sign.

“Did you find anything?” JJ questioned.

“Did I find anything?” John B breathed.

He brought up a black duffel bag.

“Yeah, there we go! That’s my boy!” JJ excitedly called out.

“Jeez dude!” Pope gasped.

“You okay?” Kie voiced her concern.

“Yeah, I ran out of air,” John B panted.

“You sacred the shit out me.” Kiara expressed.

“Yeah same here,” you stated.

“Yeah, the cops were up here, but, uh… took care of ‘em.” Pope went on.

“My Bad.” John B announced.

“You’re all good.” Pope replied.

“Yeah, you kinda missed the show, brother.” JJ stepped in to say.

“Hey guys? Guys, bogey, two o’clock.” Kiara announced.

“What?” JJ spoke.

“Do you recognize that boat?” Pope asked.

“I’ve never seen it,” Kiara responded.

“What are they doing here? The marsh is closed,” Kiara went on.

“I don’t know but let’s not stick around and find out.” JJ suggested.

“I think their coming right for us.” You voiced your opinion.

“JJ get the bowline.” John B ordered.

“Yeah.”

“Should we wait on ‘em?” Pope offered.

“No, we’re not.” Your brother spoke.

“Go get the stern. Go!” John B ordered.

“Are you joking? JJ, hurry up.” Kiara hissed.

“Guys, don’t wait for me. Go.” JJ said urgently.

Kiara requested, “Let’s go!”

“Pull out the stern.” Pope warned.

“I don’t like the look of this,” John B put out.

“I don’t either,” you spoke.

“Maybe they’re fishing,” Pope suggested.

“Go, go, go, go!” JJ ordered.

“Go into the marsh,” Pope said.

“Hey, guys, they’re following us.” Kiara shared.

“This can’t be good,” Pope voiced.

“Shit!” John B exclaimed.

“Oh no,” you shouted.

“Dude, you gotta go faster!” JJ put out.

“I’m going.”

As the boat with the two big men on it chased you and the pogues further into the marsh, you looked behind you realizing that they were getting closer.

“John B,” you cried.

“I know Y/N.”

Then to your surprise you herd gunshots.

“What the…” Pope began.

“Holy shit!” Kiara cursed.

“John B, get down,” JJ yelled.

They continue shooting at you guys.

“Oh my god we’re gonna die!” Pope shouted.

“Y/N! Get down” John B called.

You were starting to have a panic attack and you didn’t know what to do. You were trying to stay down but we’re having trouble catching your breath. You must of not been hidden enough because you felt a sharp pain in your gut near your hip.

You looked down and saw crimson blood painting the area. Now this is where you really started to panic. Everyone was cheering because Kiara threw out a net to stop the boat and it worked. They couldn’t move, they were stuck and they were no longer right behind you. They did however fired one last shot.

Your heart was pounding and you were shaking. You were full on panicking. Your chest felt tight and you could feel yourself getting dizzy.

Everyone was still cheering when you whispered, “I’ve been shot.”

“What did you say?” JJ questioned.

“I’m shot.”

“Holy fuck.” JJ roared.

“JJ,” you called for him reaching out you hand. Your breathing was ragged. The scene before you was starting to blur.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” JJ blubbered. JJ was shocked he didn’t know what to do but he did know that his girl was in distress. He needed to be there for you.

He took your hand in his hand and cradled your head. “Breathe baby, I’m right here.”

John B who was watching the interaction intensely, took off his bandana and gave it to JJ. He was at a loss for words.

JJ took the bandana and placed it over the wound, and applied pressure. You let out a whimper.

“We got to stop the bleeding.” JJ said urgently.

“Pope take us to the hospital,” John B ordered as he let Pope get behind the wheel.

Pope did his best to smoothly get to shore.

JJ pulled you into his lap and put his hands over your hands to press the bandana on the wound.

“JJ i’m pan- panicking,” you mumbled.

“I know baby I know, I’ve gotchu.”

“Your gonna be ok. I know you are you have to be.” JJ went on.

JJ started stroking your hair with the one hand that wasn’t pressed to your side. He kissed the top of your head and whispered reassuring words.

John B started to call and ambulance for when you get to shore. “I need an ambulance for my sister, she’s been shot, if you can meet us at the dock.”

John B was watching how JJ was comforting you. He was being to gentle and caring. It looked like he was doing a good job at calming you down.

Eventually you got to shore and the ambulance was waiting. JJ and John B were on ether side of you helping you walk. You however seemed to hang off of them as you leaned on them for support.

“I can’t have all of you back here in the ambulance,” the EMT said.

“I want JJ with me,” you croaked out.

“We will meet you guys at the hospital,” Pope announced, him and kiara walking off to get to Kiara’s car.

John B and JJ hopped in the back of the ambulance as you got on the stretcher. The ride to the hospital was bumpy and your were screaming in pain.

JJ held you hand the whole ride to the hospital. You would squeeze his hand occasionally. John B watched how you stared at JJ like you needed him.

Once you finally arrived they rushed you into the hospital. the EMT spoke, “We got a female with a gunshot wound to the gut.”

“She needs to be in surgery right away,” one of the doctors called out.

As they wheeled you away, JJ and John B waited in the waiting room with their nerves at an all time high.

Pope and Kiara arrived and waited in the waiting room as well. John B was pacing back and forth. JJ sat in one of the chairs with his head lowered and his hat in his hands.

John B went to speak with JJ. “Do you think she’s gonna be ok?” he asked.

“Yeah she’s a fighter,” JJ replied whipping his eyes.

“You really love her don’t you?” John B asked.

“Yeah, I do,” JJ responded.

“I can see that now. I want to give you my blessing.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can see that you both love one another more than anything.” John B shared.

“Thanks man I appreciate that,” JJ took hold of John B’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

JJ was on the edge of his seat he was worried for you. He didn’t know what he would do if something happened to you. You were the light of his whole life.

After what felt like a eternity, a doctor came out and calmly spoke, “The surgery went well she’s resting now. She needs to stay overnight for observation but she can take visitors but only one at a time.”

“Go ahead,” JJ nodded towards John B.

John B entered your hospital room to be met with your eyes closed. You woke up when you herd the sound of feet shuffling.

“Hi Bree Bree,” you spoke softly.

“Hey y/n/n, how you feeling.”

“Better,” you smiled.

“I’m glad.”

“Can you tell me when you fell in love with JJ?” John B questioned.

“How did you-“ you were shocked.

“Oh please, I can see it in your face when your around him and the “I want JJ with me.”

“Well it started out as a little schoolgirl crush and then I just fell for him and it consumed me.”

John B debated if he should tell you he gave the two of you the green light but figured JJ should do it. So instead he gave you a smile.

“I’m glad your ok y/n/n.”

“I’ll send JJ in.” John B finished the conversation.

“Bye Bree Bree.”

After a few moments JJ came strolling in. He was happy because he now could be with you. But of course he was worried about you and your recovery.

“My poor baby, how you feeling?” JJ cooed.

“I’m doing ok,” you responded.

“I’m so thankful you didn’t get shot in the heart or the head.” JJ breathed.

“Yeah I guess i’m lucky, it could of been a lot worse.”

“I have something to tell you, scooch over.” JJ got in bed beside you.

“What is it?”

“Your brother gave us his blessing!” JJ exclaimed.

“Are you serious?!” You looked at him in disbelief.

JJ nodded his head, and you squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Careful love,” JJ spoke cautious of your movements.

“I’m so happy,” you expressed.

JJ cupped your cheek with his ringed hand. He used his ringed thumb to stroke your cheek.

You were looking into his baby blue eyes when your gaze flickered to JJ’s lips.

JJ was looking at your lips when you finally closed the gap between you. The kiss was gentle and soft at first then grew more heated and frantic over time.

Your lips were locking together and you slid your hands into JJ’s hair. You pulled on the strands a little and he let out a groan causing you to melt. When the need for air became to strong you pulled away.

“Ya know I really do love you.” JJ explained nudging his nose with yours.

“Yes I do and I love you.

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wandasgf · 2 months

Text

EVERLONG. mdni. 18+.

dream girl evil universe

pairing: rockstar!natasha romanoff + yelena's best friend!reader

summary: you hadn't expected yelena's natasha to be the natasha

warnings: fluff, partial smut, light angst for like a second, top!natasha, bottom!reader, really they're just very sweet

wc: 2.5k

You freeze in the kitchen of Yelena’s apartment, seeing a redhead that you don’t recognize sitting on the couch in the living room. You briefly wonder if Yelena had had a breakdown and dyed her hair without telling you. That would explain today’s radio silence even though usually your phone was blowing up asking when you would finally be done with your classes and come make her dinner. It was Monday night and usually you’d come over to Yelena’s apartment to make dinner and watch whatever movie Yelena chose. Sometimes her girlfriend Kate would come over, but Yelena liked to keep Monday nights for ‘best friend time’ as she liked to call it. You hesitantly hang your bag on the hook by the door and close it behind you. Hopefully you didn’t just close yourself in with a serial killer or something.

At the sound of the door closing, the redhead turns her head and your jaw almost drops when you make eye contact. Natasha Romanoff is sitting in Yelena’s living room.

What the hell is Natasha Romanoff doing sitting in Yelena’s living room?

The redhead is the lead guitarist and singer in what most magazines and articles are calling ‘one of the most popular female rock bands in the past twenty years.’ Even if someone doesn’t know Spellbound’s music, they’d know Natasha. She’s recently been a hot topic of the internet, having been caught on video punching one of her bandmate, Wanda’s, exes in the face after they wouldn’t stop harassing her. The video spread like wildfire, most people on Natasha’s side and other’s calling her a bitch, saying she shouldn’t get involved. You, of course, were on Natasha’s side.

She doesn’t seem at all concerned, just raises an eyebrow at the continued silence when you don’t say anything. “You’re not Yelena.” Is what you say, lamely, when you can finally get your brain to connect to your vocal chords. “Not the last time I checked, no. As far as I can tell neither are you.”

“It’s Monday night.” You say as if that would be any explanation at all as to why you’re in Yelena’s apartment. Natasha stands from the couch, putting the bottle of beer she was drinking down on Yelena’s coffee table. “Right,” she nods in agreement, “but that doesn’t explain what you’re doing in my sister’s apartment.” You almost choke on your own spit at Natasha’s words. Yelena’s Natasha was the Natasha?

As if to save you from whatever wrath the redhead was going to unleash on you for being a stranger in her sister’s apartment, Yelena emerges from her bedroom. “Y/N! It’s nice of you to finally make it. I thought maybe a traffic monster had swallowed you up.” You were five minutes later than usual and she was acting like it was the end of the world, typical. Natasha is momentarily forgotten as you roll your eyes at your best friend's words. “Hi, Y/N. So nice to see you, Y/N. I’m so sorry I was a ghost today, Y/N.” You mock her playfully, ready to give her an earful for making you think she might have died today before Natasha clears her throat.

“Big sisters don’t get introductions anymore?”

It was easy to get over your initial starstruck feeling after the first couple of days that Natasha stayed with Yelena. You learned that there was a two week long break between legs of the tour and Natasha decided she wanted to come visit her sister. With no prior notice, of course, because that’s just how Natasha does things. It really didn’t take long for you to feel comfortable around her and although she had been skeptical to let herself fully relax around you, even if she didn’t show it, she eventually did. You found that you enjoyed being around her and even found yourself hanging around Yelena’s apartment even when she wasn’t there just so you could spend time with Natasha.

And Natasha enjoyed spending time with you. She didn’t show it, much like she didn’t show most emotions that weren’t surface level, but she was excited to finally meet the famous Y/N Yelena would always rave about for the past however many years when they spoke on the phone. She would always regret not coming to visit more often, but she wouldn’t trade her current life for anything even if it meant time spent with Yelena was over the phone more often than not. She could make up for it in other ways, hopefully her sister felt the same.

It was the last day of Natasha’s two week visit and you were both sitting on the cargo bed of her rental truck. It was parked in the grassy parking area near the picnic area of one of New York’s many state parks. It was nearly deserted save for a few families, August wasn’t exactly peak tourist season in this part of New York. You were waiting for Yelena to arrive with Kate, the blonde finally deciding that now would be a good time for Natasha to meet her girlfriend. Of course she waited until the day before Natasha left.

You’re leaning into Natasha, your legs dangling off the edge of the cargo bed, kicking back and forth lightly. She’s leaning on one hand and letting you play with her fingers on the other. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to admit it out loud, but she will miss you when she’s gone. She hadn’t planned on growing so close to you and she’s never had a problem with being detached before, but something about you just draws her in. If she could stay here, with you leaning against her and the gentle breeze against her skin, she would. It’s a dangerous thought, she knows it is, but she wonders if you’d wait for her to come back. Whenever that is.

The mixture of Natasha’s perfume and the nature around you is comforting and you don’t want anything to burst the little bubble of comfort you and Natasha have created for yourselves. “Is it bad that I don’t want you to go?” You ask quietly, hoping if you don’t say it too loud then the question won’t hold as many emotions as you know it does. Natasha doesn’t respond for a few seconds, trying to come up with an answer that won’t make you upset but also won’t give you any false hope. “You could always come to one of my shows.” Is what she settles for, but the sigh she gets in response isn’t what she wanted.

“You know I can’t.” Your legs stop kicking and you let the warm breeze brush against them as it blows past. Natasha squeezes your hand, “I know.” She’s about to say something else, but the honk of a horn interrupts her and you practically jump off of the truck, a startled curse falling from your lips as you whip your head around. You groan when you see Yelena’s car and turn to bury your face in Natasha’s shoulder, previous feelings seemingly forgotten, “Your sister’s an asshole.”

Natasha laughs, reaching up to run a hand through your hair, the feeling much too familiar. It makes a pit form in her stomach, but she pushes it down. “It runs in the family. Now, come on. I have to go all big sister on this Kate girl.” She pats your shoulder and waits for you to pull away from her before getting down from the truck. She almost walks away, but thinks better of it, instead turning to help you down as well. There’s no reason to pull away, she reminds herself, you two are just friends. Friends who have spent the past couple of nights cuddled together on Yelena’s couch while watching movies, but still, just friends.

You both hear two car doors shut and then Yelena’s voice, “Sestra! Come meet Kate!” and then much quieter, Kate’s nervous one, “Babe, I really think maybe we should just go back. I mean she’s already met Y/N, so maybe I’ll be next time.”

Surprisingly, you’re able to stop Natasha from scaring Kate too much, but she still puts the fear of God into the brunette, promising something awful if she were to ever break her sister’s heart. Of course Kate swears she would never do anything like that and then goes on a nervous rant about how she was totally on Natasha’s side when it came to punching that guy.

The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly, you all had a good time and you almost completely forgot that Natasha would be leaving tomorrow. Until you didn’t. You had been sleeping over at Yelena’s apartment the past couple of nights and tonight was no different, wanting to see Natasha off when she left. Like a good friend would. Because that’s what you were. Friends.

Natasha had claimed she was going to stay up all night so that when she got on the bus in the morning, she’d be able to sleep through the long drive to the hotel in Indiana. You gave some lame excuse to hide wanting to spend more time with her as a reason why you’d stay up with her. Yelena had gone to sleep long ago and you were starting to get a little sleepy, but you weren’t going to give up now. You looked at your phone to check the time: 2:46am.

You were in a similar position to earlier, except instead of a truck bed you were sitting on the couch with your legs curled up next to you as you leaned into Natasha. “Y/N?” Natasha whispers into the quiet of the living room, the only sound besides her voice being the quiet murmur from the tv. You hum in response, eyes trained on the scene being shown on the tv screen. You were watching reruns of one of your favorite shows and although Natasha wasn’t all that interested, she’d let you keep it on.

“Y/N.” She says slightly louder and you sit up in confusion, looking around to see if maybe you’d missed something. You furrow your eyebrows when everything is the same as it was before, “what?” Natasha looks like she wants to say something, but she hesitates slightly. “Nevermind. Sorry, I thought I saw something.”

“Nat, seriously, what?” You’re beyond confused now and a little too tired to understand the emotions in Natasha’s eyes the way you usually would. It’s a split second decision, but the resolve she’s been trying to build up for the past few days has been effectively crumbled and the question that’s been on the tip of her tongue since you asked if it was bad you wanted her to stay finally escapes her lips, “can I kiss you?”

It takes you a second to register the fact that she actually wants to kiss you, but as soon as you do you’re nodding your head. She surges forward, cupping your cheeks and pressing her lips against yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you grab at her shirt, trying to tug her closer as your lips move against each other. Her tongue slides against your bottom lip and you gasp. She takes the opportunity to push her tongue into your mouth, exploring it. There’s no real fight for dominance, you let Natasha take the lead entirely.

You tug her down as you lay back on the couch and she shifts slightly so that she can straddle your hips, one of her hands tangling in your hair. Eventually she has to pull away for air and she’s glad she does with the way you struggle to breathe properly, fists clutching her shirt. Your breathing is labored and she would find it cute had she not realized you were sacrificing breathing just to kiss her. She almost wants to scold you for it.

She rubs her thumb across your cheek as she looks down at you. She really shouldn’t be doing this, not before she has to leave, and especially not in Yelena’s living room, but she doesn’t know if she really cares right now. “I’m going to kiss you again, okay?”

“Please.” You nod desperately, tugging her back down and meeting her lips halfway. This kiss is much more heated and messy, the both of you more desperate for each other than you already were. Natasha bites down on your bottom lip and you moan softly, arching up into her. Her smirk breaks the kiss and you almost whine, but it’s almost like she can read your mind because she’s immediately shushing you and pressing her lips to yours again.

Your hands slide under her shirt to grip at her waist and pull her closer to you, desperately wanting to feel her against you. The way you’re kissing is almost feverish, the both of you so desperate that you feel if you don’t consume the other it may be your demise. Natasha pulls away to quickly pull her shirt off and discard it on the floor and if you weren’t so desperate to have her lips on yours again, you would have taken more time to admire her abs.

When she leans back down to meet your lips in another frenzied kiss, she doesn’t even take the time to pull your shirt off entirely, merely pushes it up and over your breasts, her hands finding purchase on the soft skin of your waist before traveling up. She groans at the way your body reacts to her and the little whine you let out when she slides her fingertips over the cups of your bra.

When she pulls away again you try to catch your breath, feeling a little lightheaded from having Natasha like this. She’s leaning over you, hands cupping your cheeks as her thumb rubs soothingly across one of them. “If we keep going, I’m not going to be able to stop.” She laughs lightly, the look on your face telling her that very much wouldn’t be a problem. “But I don’t think this is the right place for that, doll. Another time, alright?”

The rest of the night is spent with Natasha whispering sweet nothings to you as you fall in and out of sleep, trying your best to stay awake with her. She promises to come back soon, even though she doesn’t know when soon will be, and that she’ll text you when she can and set aside time to call, and would you like that? Eventually, you succumb to sleep and Natasha has to slip away without a proper goodbye. She’d tried to wake you, you can’t fault her for that one. And if Yelena noticed you wearing Natasha’s shirt while you were asleep on the couch, she didn’t say anything.

“I hope you guys don’t mind us playing something new.” Natasha’s words are met with loud cheers and she smirks softly, “it’s a song I wrote recently and we haven’t had a chance to play it for anyone yet so we figured why not, right? It’s called Everlong. I hope you guys like it.” She looks behind her and nods to Carol who starts the drum beat.

“Hello

I’ve waited here for you

Everlong”

#alice's fics !#🎸🦇 au #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romanoff smut

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princessbrunette · 2 months

Note

Rafe x shy reader who just nods when he says things and he taps her jaw and is like hey speak when spoken to

i feel the easy option would to be to talk about how this is totally s3!rafe, because you know — it’s just prime daddy material. he would do this kind of thing, all the time infact— but what about this rafe, on a power trip from being given more responsibility lately.

𝜗𝜚₊˚⊹♡

talking midsummers rafe, in that powder blue suit dragging around his pretty little girlfriend to show off to all of his fathers business associates that he claims will one day be men he works beside and above.

you’re overwhelmed just a little, which is why you’re happy to stay pinned to his side, a large hand splayed across your back to keep you there. he does all the talking thankfully, charismatic and knowing all the right things to say to get the men laughing in that uppity jaunty manner with their drinks clutched in their fist. he was still rafe, still always a little too obscene and immature around the edges — but ward didn’t give him nearly enough credit on how good he was at being a guy, and that seemed to charm the crowd especially the more they drank.

you do as you were instructed, stand there — smile, look pretty, nod when necessary, but of course as expected some questions were often directed at you out of pure politeness. you were painfully shy, so you’d often squeak out a response with as few words as possible. it mostly didn’t seem to bother rafe in the slightest, and if he thought your answer required more words he’d give your waist a squeeze where his hand rested to force more of a response out of you.

after a while, rafe walks you to a corner where there were no eyes on the two of you— deciding now was the time to check in on you. “you good? you’re real quiet… you know that?” he leans forward a little, bending ever so slightly at the waist to be heard over the music.

“yeah, just shy.” you shrug, not meeting his eye. you were a little intimidated by him at times, but it was mainly due to how attractive you were finding him in the moment.

“would you like another drink? t’help you out with that?”

you think, staring off away from him dreamily and he doesn’t like your lack of attention on him — so he draws it back with a sudden tap to your jaw, leaning even lower to look at you. “hey, you speak when your spoken to, yeah?”

you were used to this kind of thing from rafe, and call it what you want but the messed up side to you let it continue due to the way it drenched you each time. you would have moved on from it quickly in your brain, but just as he’d done it — you’d locked eyes with ward from across the room.

“no thank you. no drink.” you instinctively bring your hand to your jaw where he’d tapped you and he lightly bats your hand away like he wanted to hide any evidence that he’d just given you a little slap in the corner of a heavily populated party. he nods, teeth sunk in his bottom lip with a wash of guilt and he looks around for a moment, double taking at the sight of his father headed straight towards the two of you with an eerily plastered on grin. all for show, the cameron way.

“ah, shit.” the oldest cameron scratches behind his ear, suddenly not feeling so big. his father approaches, clamping a hand down on his shoulder.

“the rowans are just dying to talk to you, son. over there.” ward grins, fake as he nods towards a smiling and waving couple at the other side of the room. rafe opens his mouth to speak, and wards jaw clenches, yet his smile remains. “go.”

rafe traipses off towards the pair, and as you go to sheepishly follow him— ward places a hand on your back, looking down at you with a kind smile, a tinge of something else in his icy eyes. perhaps concern? he was potentially disturbed by what he’d seen his son do just now in public, but perhaps more disturbed by the fact he reminds him so much of himself. you weren’t too sure.

“everything okay, sweetheart?” he asks, and there’s something else in his voice. you smile, unbothered because you genuinely were. it was rafe after all, you knew what he was like and sickeningly enough — you liked it.

“yes sir! just a little tired.” you shrug bashfully and he nods slowly, smile fading as he watches his son interact enthusiastically, adjusting the older gentleman infront of him’s tie charismatically, much to his amusement.

“alright… you won’t let him bully you. okay?” he stares you down with wide eyes and you freeze slightly, giving him a smaller, shyer nod. with that, he lets you go — running along back to rafe’s side where you knew you belonged.

𝜗𝜚₊˚⊹♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

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azsazz · 4 months

Text

Midnight Muse (Part 6)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: Not edited lol

Word Count: 2,891

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Masterlist]

Notes: Of course the first fic post of 2024 has to be MM 💙

_________________________________________

“So, you just think you’re free to do so as you please, where you please?” Your grating voice startles Azriel from the work he’s doing. The oil drain plug slips from his fingers as he winces, falling into the pan below.

His bike had needed some servicing, nothing he wasn’t able to take care of himself, though Cassian was supposed to meet up with him after the only class he had today and he hasn’t shown yet. His roommate was pretty handy, had to be, with how old and how often his rustic Bronco is. He’d offered to help Az, or at least sit outside and pester him, whatever he was feeling.

Apparently, he wasn’t feeling much like showing up at all, which was fine because Azriel knew exactly what needed to be done and enjoyed listening to the sounds of the world while he worked; birds chirping as they chased each other from tree to tree, other students happily talking as they walk down the block, and the occasional car driving up the street. It’s easy to focus on something like this, and he’s feeling a lot looser than he has been as of late, though he doesn’t expect that to last very long.

He wishes Cassian were here to be a buffer right now.

What Azriel doesn’t understand is what you’re doing here. Obviously, he knows very well that you live here, but after the harsh few meetings the two of you have shared, he’s not entirely sure why you’re approaching him, of all people.

Grimacing, he slips his glove-covered hand into the dark oil pan, feeling through the thick, slick liquid for the plug. He needs it, and he hadn’t really wanted to get this dirty, but at least he has boxes and boxes of gloves to use at his disposal.

He eyes you, squinting from the sun haloing around your head. You look just as you had the day you moved in—a frown tugging the corners of your mouth down, pretty eyes glaring down instead of up at him through your lashes. Your arms are crossed over your chest too, and even though it’s been a few days since he’s last seen you, he isn’t surprised about the scowl you wear.

It hadn’t been enough to avoid you, it seemed. You were going to run into each other no matter what. But he’d avoided you this long, even kept his music down to a lower volume. Okay, so, one click lower hadn’t quite made you back off of him, still pounding on the walls late at night, but he’s been trying to be nicer about it, actually listening to those knocks, lowering his music or stuffing his earbuds into his ears.

Seems like it hasn’t made you any happier, his trying.

“Am I disturbing your afternoon, all the way out here, princess?” He asks, tacking on the little nickname he knows you hate because it will get under your smooth skin.

Your foot taps with your annoyance, rhythmically. It kind of sounds like the bass line to one of his favorite songs. He realizes now that you’re not wearing any shoes. His brows furrow and his eyes slide back to yours, watching your lips purse. He can’t hide the smirk spreading across his mouth so he turns his head back to his work, watching the oil filling the pan.

“I told you not to call me that,” you growl, and he glances up, enjoying the way your nose scrunches up. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be doing this in the middle of the parking lot.”

“That’s funny,” he snipes, because why won’t you just leave him alone? “I didn’t ask you.”

Your cheeks go red. Azriel brushes it off, grabbing a few paper towels from the roll he’s brought out and wiping the oil plug clean. He’s meticulous with it, making sure all of the threads are clean before he sets it aside to wipe his gloves off. He grabs the new filter and removes the packaging, awaiting your snarky response.

You sigh, sitting down on the curb. “Look, I locked myself out and my phone is inside. Can you maybe text Cassian and have him let Feyre know the situation? He has her number.”

He cuts you a glance before his hazel eyes flicker away. Since when did Cassian have either of your numbers? Since when did he talk to you?

“He should be here in a little while,” Azriel answers, removing the old filter. He tosses it in the pan with the used oil and wipes his gloves again, cleaning them before he reaches for the new filter to replace. It slides in easily, and he caps the drain. “You can ask him then.”

You huff like it’s the most inconvenient answer in the world, but he doesn’t want to get oil on his phone, and he doesn’t want to take his gloves off right now. Not ever, but certainly not in front of you of all people. “Please, can you not be a prick right now? I’d rather let her know as soon as possible so I don’t have to be around you.”

Not exactly the response he was thinking you’d give, but it sparks his irritation anyway.

“I’m not being a prick. I’m working on something and you’re interrupting me because you’ve made the mistake of locking yourself out. Maybe you should take your phone the next time you go to the office to complain.”

Your face flushes and your mouth drops open in a gape.

Yeah, he heard all about that.

Azriel glares, unscrewing the fresh bottle of oil with a little more force than is necessary. But he’s annoyed now and he just wants to finish this so he can go on a nice long drive, far away from you.

You swallow harshly. “You’re right, I’m so—”

“Now here’s a sight I never thought I’d see,” Cassian’s voice echoes around the parking lot, startling the both of you. Azriel wills the oil into the hole faster, because he can’t bear seeing Cassian being all buddy-buddy with you. “What are you doing out here with no shoes on?”

Azriel glances at you from the corner of his eye. Your gaze flickers away as soon as his eyes land on you, turning your attention to Cassian, but you look a little defeated, shoulders curled in on yourself as if trying to hide from him.

“I uh, got locked out of my apartment and my phone is inside. I was just asking Azriel if I could borrow his phone to text you, but here you are.”

Azriel notes the way that his name rolls off of your tongue.

“Here I am, saving damsels all day long,” Cassian jokes, and you laugh.

The bottle in his hand slips, oil dripping down the paint of his bike as Azriel quickly fixes the spout back into place.

Neither you nor Cassian seem to notice, thankfully.

“Still need help, Az?” His roommate asks, but Azriel shakes his head.

“All good, man.”

“Great. (Y/N), why don’t you come on inside and I’ll wait with you until Feyre gets home. Maybe we can pick up where we left off in class.” Cassian slings an arm over your shoulder and grunts dramatically at the shove you give him. Azriel doesn’t like how friendly you’re being with each other, fingers tightening around the nearly empty bottle of oil.

And you have a class with Cassian too? He doesn’t like that either.

Not. One. Bit.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It’s not right.

Nothing is ever fucking right.

The tattoo gun in his hand shakes and the line squiggles, array, just like his thoughts.

It’s well into the night and yet he can’t find sleep again. Azriel had tried, he really, truly, had. He’d been tired, lied down and shoved his headphones into his ears, praying that the music would keep the thoughts at bay. Flashes of memories shattered the songs, menacing words slipping between lyrics, slicing into his brain like spears no matter how loud he turned the music.

He’d tossed, turned, done anything he could to fight away the nasty thoughts, but nothing had worked.

It had been another long day in an endless string of them. Working on both his portfolio and practicing on any willing participant he could find. Usually, his roommates. Cassian had begged him for the stupidest tattoo he’s ever been asked for—even worse than a tiny little pink unicorn tramp stamp. Even though Azriel had needed the practice badly, there was no way he’d tattoo the words ‘in case I forget later:thank you’ across Cassian’s hips.

He wouldn’t be a good friend for allowing Cass to get that, and it wouldn’t look good in his portfolio anyway.

After having a pizza dinner with his roommates, who were all too lazy to want to cook on the first night of classes, Azriel included, he’d gone straight to his room for his sketchpad, ignoring Rhysand calling after him, asking if he wanted to watch a movie with them. A part of Azriel did. He wants to be able to forget everything in his stupid brain and give his full attention to a movie, but tonight isn’t the night for that. Not with all of the dark ink splashing through his mind.

So, he’d stuffed his headphones in his ears so as not to disturb his roommate's movie night, and pulled down one of the many sketchbooks he has neatly stacked upon the shelf above his desk.

It’s black cover stared at him, the void of it much like the dark matter in his mind. The leather bound journal is thick, more so than any of his other sketchbooks, as if he can shove all of the bad thoughts into it and bind it shut so they can never escape.

It had been his therapist’s idea, the sketchbook. He’d always liked art and had drawn from a young age, but the thoughts in his brain didn’t always equate to something positive. He’d struggled with it alone for the longest time, but the incident with his step-brothers had forced him to seek therapy, encouraged by both of his roommates.

Azriel had found that therapy was not for him within the first twenty minutes of the session. He didn’t like the woman trying to pick his brain. He didn’t like her fake niceties and recounting the accident he’d been trying so hard to block from his memory. He didn’t like that his hands shook the entire time, no matter how hard he’d curled them into fists. They’d shook for the rest of the week, and it had made him angrier than ever, felt like retelling what had happened only made the memories so much clearer, giving them permission to stick to his brain.

He hated it.

But she had suggested journaling, or drawing in a sketchbook. So, despite not signing up for another session with her, he drove down to the local art supply, and bought the thickest, darkest sketchbook he could find. Azriel drove to his favorite spot in town, sat there for hours and hours, pouring every little emotion he could into the drawings until he could barely uncurl his fingers from his pencil.

He stared at the drawings and they stared right back, taunting him with their dark, shaky lines and sharp-fanged smiles. His chest constricted, breath caught thickly in his throat, and he’d slammed the sketchbook shut, binding it with the leather cord and knotting it so tightly he didn’t know if his fucked up fingers would be able to unwork it. But he’d trapped them inside of the book, and they hadn’t been able to get out. For a few days, anyway.

Azriel had considered throwing it off of a cliff. Had considered burning it, tossing it into the lake, digging a hole at the state lines and burying it. He hadn’t done any of those things, though. Once his breathing had calmed and his hands stopped shaking so badly he’d tucked it into his bag and shoved it up on the shelf with the rest of his sketch pads. No one would notice. Cassian and Rhysand didn’t enter his room if he wasn’t around, and no one else was allowed in there. Most of his other sketch books were black as well, so this one was hidden well in the midst of the others.

It brings him to now. He’d pulled the dusty sketchbook from his shelf, opening it with once again shaky hands. The thoughts had been harder to dispel lately, sleep more difficult to find. It had been easy to attempt drawing out the demons with the loudest music he could find, but even he could admit, that after letting those harrowing memories from their cage and onto the paper where he could shut the cover and trap them, he felt a little better.

Better enough to attempt to work on his tattooing skills.

But the gun in his hand still shakes.

“Fuck,” he curses, tossing the gun onto his desk. The clatter cuts through his earbuds and slides, skidding to a stop once it’s knocked into the cup of pencils and sticks of charcoal. A plume of black puffs from the chalk falling from the rim and Azriel glares. “Fuck this!”

He swipes at the jagged lines of the mountain he’d been inking above his kneecap with a paper towel, scowling at the bite of uncomfort that follows the motion. The jaggedness of his lines can be passed off as the snow lining the mountain, but he’s still pissed off. If he can’t straighten out his lines, there’s no hope for an apprenticeship at all. Of course, he can fall back on his charcoal drawings, but he’s never wanted anything more than this. He’s dreamed of becoming a tattoo artist, loves everything about it, and he doesn’t want to give everything he’s worked towards up.

Azriel slumps in his seat, ripping the black latex gloves suctioned to his hands off. Running his fingers through his hair he squeezes his eyes shut tight, swallows the lump in his throat, and breathes deeply. In. Out. In. Out again.

The music is no longer helping. He tears the buds from his ears, replacing them in their charging case with shaking hands. He grits his teeth as he stares down at the marred flesh, willing them to stop trembling.

They don’t.

Before he can do something he might regret—like smash all of his things to bits, a noise draws his attention.

It’s not coming from the living room where Rhysand and Cassian are watching some action movie. He can hear the sounds of reckless driving and explosions creeping from beneath his door. This sound, however, has something zipping up his spine, his ears perking as he listens for more.

There’s a low moan, muffled by the thin wall connecting your room from his. It sounds soft and sweet, has Azriel’s spine going tight as he sits straight in his chair, cheeks getting hotter when he realizes it’s you, and the moan is a sensual one.

You must not think he’s home because he’s not blasting music, or you don’t care if he is, or maybe this is your way of getting back at him for all of the times he’s been rude to you since you moved in.

A low curse emits from your mouth, and Azriel might think that you were in pain if he didn’t recognize the lust lining the noises you’re making, the way you seem to be begging for it, calling out to the God of Pleasure.

He can’t sit here, can’t listen to this. He can’t humanize you or listen to the sweet sounds you’re making through the wall. It’s too perverted. As much as it makes his cheeks heat it feels wrong to be listening to you pleasure yourself through his wall. His body is coiled tighter than it had been with his harrowed thoughts, and he doesn’t realize that his hands have finally stopped quivering.

Azriel springs from his chair, slipping out of his room like his ass is on fire, although there’s a warmth beneath his skin that isn’t one of hatred.

“Took you long enough,” Cassian complains when he plants himself on the couch beside him, tugging a pillow onto his lap. He needs something to hold onto, is all. His friend shoves a bowl of popcorn his way, and Azriel takes a handful, stuffing the buttery goodness into his suddenly dry mouth. “You’ve missed all the good parts, but we’re watching the second one next. Rhys will fill you in.”

“No, I won’t,” Rhys adds, completely engrossed in the car chase that’s happening. “He didn’t want to watch it when we asked, so it’s his loss.”

It’s fine, really, because the movie is the furthest thing from his mind.

Azriel can barely focus on what they’re saying, on the brightness of the movie that makes him squint, so different from that of the soft lighting in his room while he worked. He refuses to look at anything but the screen but his eyes are unfocused as his mind wanders, and then his eyes are following until he’s staring straight at the door to his room as if he can see past it and through the wall inside.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @vellichor01 @hirah-yummar @girl-who-writes-stuff @lees-chaotic-brain @konaanaria13 @emiler-love @yourdorkiness @azrielsstarlight @saltedcoffeescotch @badpvn @prongslena

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel/reader #midnight muse #art school au #tattoo arstist!azriel

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fxrmuladaydreams · 4 months

Text

back off (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x porstar/camgirl!reader

summary: seb isn’t happy when he finds out that you’ve become intimate with daniel, and daniel isn’t happy when he finds out seb isn’t going to give you up

prev part next part

Sebastian feels like he’s been staring at the screen of his phone for days now.

I’ve been spending so much time with Daniel lately

He’s reading the words over and over again, as if they’ll change at some point. When he gave you Daniel’s phone number he really only expected you to film a video or two with him, not to become close with him.

Sebastian figured you clearly weren’t in the mood to talk to him either, seeing as his last few texts went unanswered, so he decided he needed to take matters into his own hands.

You’re surprised to see Sebastian standing on the other side of your door when you answer it, a nervous smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands.

“Sebastian, what are you doing here?” You ask.

“You weren’t answering your phone.” He shrugs. “These are for you.” He thrusts the flowers into your hands.

“Thank you… Come in.” You step to the side so he can come inside.

He takes slow, cautious steps in, as if afraid he’ll overstep.

“You know, usually if someone doesn’t respond to texts it means they don’t want to talk.” You tell him as you find a vase for the flowers.

He feels bad being here, but tries to keep his cool. “You don’t want to see me schatz?” He pouts.

You sigh. “I thought you were the one who didn’t want to see me.”

Your words feel like a punch to the gut. “I always want to see you.” He says quietly.

“Then why did you push me away?”

He stares at you, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I can’t put up with you like this Seb. You can either stay here and be honest with me, or you can keep this wall between us and leave my house.” You cross your arms over your chest.

His lips move for a moment, he’s trying to think of the right way to string his words together.

“I was nervous. I felt like things were too much, moving too fast.” He takes a step towards you. “But I’ve sorted myself out now. I want to be close with you.” He practically whispers.

You take a small step back, keeping that small bit of distance between you. You’re too afraid you’ll quickly fall under his spell again if you don’t.

“We can become close again. As friends.” You tell him.

He gives you a small nod. “Friends. Can friends offer to buy you lunch?” He asks, a sheepish smile on his face.

You can’t help the smile that starts to appear on yours. “Friends can get lunch together, yes.”

“Good. Lunch it is then.”

He takes you to lunch in his car, letting you pick the music. It’s very reminiscent of your drive to the filming studio. He keeps stealing glances and you keep pretending not to notice.

Everything seems effortlessly easy with Sebastian. You quickly fall into rhythm with each other, a slightly flirty banter used to communicate with each other.

He pays for your meal, even after your insistence that he doesn’t have to.

“I’m just being a good friend schatz.” His tone is teasing, but he doesn’t like the way the words feel on his tongue.

He wants to be able to sweep you up in his arms and plant a kiss to your lips, but he remembers what you said about kissing. How it was something personal, that it belonged to you. He was just going to have to fight to earn it from you.

He drives you back to your house and joins you inside for a movie. While you start on opposite ends of the couch, by the time the movies over you find yourself curled up against the German man.

He almost wants the movie to never end. He wants to stay here with you in his arms forever. We wouldn’t be mad if you happened to fall asleep against him.

But when the credits roll you sit up, peeling yourself away from Sebastian, who tries to fill the space between you.

“I had fun today.” He tells you.

You nod, giving him a soft smile. “Me too. It was nice to see you again.”

“Maybe we can hang out again. Sometime soon?” He asks.

He’s close now, probably too close. You can feel his breath fan over your face as his words are murmured to you. His eyes travel down to your lips. You know what he wants, and even if you didn’t he tells you when he tilts his head closer to you.

“I kissed Daniel.”

He freezes at your words, slowly pulling back. A flash of anger crosses his face.

“Did he make you?”

“No! No, I kissed him willingly.”

“Oh.” He leans back on the couch.

“I’m sorry. I just thought you should know.” You head tilts down in shame.

He hums. “So are you dating him?”

You look back up at him. “No, I don’t think so.”

Sebastian smiles mischievously. “Then he has no claim over you. You can kiss whoever you’d like.” He brushes the hair away from your face and leans in again. If he pressed his lips to yours you wouldn’t have pushed him away, but he doesn’t. “I’m not going to kiss you schatz. I don’t want to confuse you, or make you feel bad about your feelings for either of us. But I won’t give up on you that easy. I’ve still got some fight in me.” He winks, then pulls away to stand up.

You almost reach out for his hand, wanting to pull him back down and kiss him yourself, but he steps away, towards your door.

“Goodnight schatz.” He calls out to you, then you hear your door open then close.

You feel fuzzy on the inside, like you’re on a bit of a high as you get ready to go to sleep.

Daniel comes by the next day, immediately pulling you into his arms and planting a kiss to the top of your head.

“Good morning sweetheart.” He says. “I brought breakfast.”

He puts a bag down on your table. You recognize the logo on the bag, it’s from the diner he took you to after you filmed your video. He hums as he admires the flowers on your table, letting his fingers gently brush against the petals.

“Where did you get these?” He asks, thinking you probably bought them yourself just to add to the dining room.

“Seb gave them to me.” You tell him. You try to sound casual about it, as if he didn’t stay late last night and if you had your way you would’ve climbed on top of him.

“Seb?”

“Sebastian.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, I know who Seb is. I just thought you weren’t seeing him anymore.”

You shrug. “It was nothing. We went out to lunch. As friends.”

He nods. “So, got any plans for today?”

You try to have a nice day with Daniel, but it’s clear something has shifted. He holds onto you just a little tighter, and makes sure to sit next to you a little closer.

When he drops you back off at your house he leans in for a kiss. You turn your head, letting his lips land on your cheek.

“Goodnight Daniel.” You quickly tell him, stepping into your house and closing the door between you.

Daniel lets his anger bubble up on his drive home. Why were you with Sebastian the previous night? Who the hell did Sebastian think he was to give you flowers? Why didn’t you let him kiss you tonight? His hands grip the steering wheel as he drives.

He walks back into his house and sighs as he hangs up his coat. The house seems far too empty, too cold when he’s home alone.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he walks to his room.

To Sebastian

I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to back off. Y/n and I are happy and you’re just going to ruin it.

He gets a reply within minutes.

To Daniel

I think Y/n can choose to spend her time with whoever she wants. And I’m not planning on letting her go that easy Danny. Let the best man win.

Daniel huffs as he tosses his phone aside. He’s going to show you just how much better he is for you than Sebastian.

#sebastian vettel x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #sv5 x reader #dr3 x reader #formula one x reader

630 notes · View notes

fookinfandoms · 2 years

Text

all in a days work

pairing: tangerine x female spy! reader

plot: The twins have been hired for a high risk job, unbeknownst to them that they weren’t the only ones. You just happened to be first.

authors note: i’m really writing something for a mf named TANGERINE. but I loved the movie and I loved his character. Mwah. Let me know if this is too ooc! I love feedback!

Not edited.

3.2k words

PART TWO HERE

warnings: no smut in this one, potentially part two. language, mentions of blood, violence, they’re assassins idk what you expect tbh, you both fight each other :)

“Did you seriously knock my brother out with a fryin’ pan?” Tangerine yells out, stopping you in your tracks. The lights of the kitchen flickered on and off, loud music bouncing off the walls from the club outside.

Lemon lay unconscious behind a counter, his head now sporting a rather nasty mark. Tangerine stood near the exit, one hand on his gun and the other holding a hard drive. His eyebrows were furrowed as glanced between you and his brother.

Your head tilts to the side as you shrug. “He had a gun and I didn’t, I think he got off easy.”

The gears turn in his head, wondering whether or not you were worth the effort. He waves his gun in your direction. “What’s this then?”

“Just another obstacle in the way,” You haven’t moved an inch, taking the time to plan your next move. You haven’t fought the twins before, but they were famous in the industry. Messy, yes, but they got shit done. “I’m going to need that hard drive however, and it would be a shame to put a mark on such a pretty face.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” He retorts, shoving the small device into his coat pocket. “Feelings mutual, but I’ve got the gun darling, and it seems like you’re all out of frying pans.”

Frustration crawls over your skin, and he smirks, believing he had you cornered. Tangerine can see your eyes glancing between him and the door behind him, and he almost considered letting you leave, albeit empty handed, until he remembered his brother on the floor.

“You know,” He really thought thought he had the upper hand on you. “I’ve heard of you two before, the fruity twins and I-“

“Fruity twins? Are you having a laugh?” He interrupts, and it was your turn to smirk as he glares. “Fuckin' fruity twins?” “I mean, you are Tangerine and Lemon right?” You retort, pointing at his brother. “I’ve heard a lot about you two, Bolivia yeah? Hard stuff that, left quite a name for yourselves. Fruity names however, but names nonetheless.”

“You think you’re funny don’t you?” He hisses, his finger itching to pull the trigger a little more than before. “Who even are you?”

One more minute.

The muscle in his jaw ticks as you shrug again. “I think I’m pretty funny, I mean… I did just take down a fully grown man with a skillet, that’s a story for the grandkids don’t you think?”

“That didn’t answer my question, who are you and why do you want this?” He pats his coat pocket, a reminder he and his brother had gotten to the intel before you.

“Angel,” You told him truthfully, watching as his eyebrow raises at the admission. “And I was hired, just like you.”

“Fitting name,” What a cruel punishment the universe has bestowed upon you. A gorgeous man with an accent flirting like it was his second language - with a gun aimed at between your eyes. “How much?”

You swallow and look around him quickly. “One million.”

“Christ, one million? We were offered half of that! Who fuckin’ hired you and off-“ Tangerine wasn’t able to finish his sentence as a loud bang swallowed you both. Dust and small pieces of the ceiling fell around, filling the air as multiple little bombs went off in unison through the building.

There was the back up plan. They weren’t big enough to kill anyone, rather stun. A last resort in case you had been caught up.

Tangerine drops his gun as he covers his head in an attempt to hide from the debris, and you quickly take the time to kick the piece of metal away from him as your other leg rises and knees him in the side. He grunts, and as your leg raises for another kick, Tangerine pounces forward, grabbing your waist roughly and uses his weight to push you into a counter behind.

You head is knocked back at the impact, and before the man in front of you can move you’re already throwing your elbow at his cheek. He curses, baring his teeth like a wild animal as he blocks another hit thrown his way. Pushing yourself off the cool metal, he holds his hands up in defence, shaking his head as you await his next move.

“I really don’t want to do this.” He grunts out, his hair sticking in all directions.

“So you could shoot me but a fist fight is off the table?” You push away the stray hair that had fallen out of its up-do, a laugh leaving your lips. “How noble.”

“I’m giving you an opportunity to leave here with your life,” He steps to the side with a smile, the exit behind him looking better than ever. “I have what I need, don’t need to add to the body count.”

Tangerine again pats at his coat pocket, but his smile slowly disappears as he feels nothing. His hand slides in, and he immediately begins patting at all possible pockets on his person. “What the fuck.”

“This?” You hold up the hard drive, wiggling it around before sliding it into the safety of your bra. “You’re not that bright are you?”

He sighs before turning his gaze to the roof, shaking his head with a string of curses. “Something tells me you like the idea of being thrown around love,” Tangerine slides off his coat and throws the material to the ground, rolling up his sleeves as you grin. “A little too much.”

You jerk your chin at him with a chuckle. “I do love a good tussle.”

Tangerine pounces and you’re already sliding out of the way, grabbing at a loose wine glass and throwing it at his head. The glass shatters and a grunt escapes him as the shards dance around him, but he doesn’t have time to register as you’re swinging your knee into his stomach again - the same spot as before. His muscles tense at the pain in his body, and he throws a punch, getting you in the collarbone. You stumble back at the force, but another grin grows realising he wasn’t holding back.

He raises his arm to swing again, but using the counter as leverage, you lean backwards, letting your legs wrap around his upper half and twisting - sending the larger man to the ground. He slides beside his brother as you catch yourself, kneeling beside him. His eyes widen at the sudden action, and you’re already raising your fist when he moves his head, dodging the blow.

Your fist hits Lemon, and you release a little gasp at the mistake. He doesn’t budge however, still knocked out by the frying pan from before. Tangerine uses his long leg to kick you away from him, rolling onto his belly as he notices his gun hiding under a grill. He reaches for it, but you’re quicker than him - throwing yet another glass his way as his covers his head.

“Stop throwing fuckin’ glasses!” He shouts, dodging another.

“I have a whole set here,” You reply, reaching for the fine dining ware, as he uses his sleeve to push the shattered pieces from his skin. “Stop reaching for your gun!”

Tangerine swears again, slowly getting up off the ground. His shirt was rather torn up from your assault, but your dress wasn’t looking any better. Had the two of you not been currently trying to kill each other, the man might’ve offered to take you home. “Just give me the damn USB, we’re the ones who actually worked for it.”

You laugh at him, your red lips curling in a snarl. “Only because I cleared the office for you, don’t you think the place was rather empty all things considered?”

Lemon was actually the one who noticed the place had a lack of security, but the two didn’t want to push their luck. The intel was easy to grab, who would complain?

You nodded at him, watching the realisation hit him. “Yeah, dumbass - I did that. You didn’t check the closet did you? Whole bunch of dead guys, thanks to me.”

He scoffs, propping his hands onto his hips. “Bullshit, why didn’t you just grab the shit and go then?”

“I was busy setting up my backup plan, I didn’t know the job was handed off to others.” You raised your hands in frustration. It wasn’t uncommon for gigs to be palmed off to others, but that was usually involving a human target, not intel.

“Yeah well, seems we both got fucked love,” He says, wincing at the pain in his side. “You’ve got a mean kick to you, you know that?”

“No one usually lives long enough to say anything.” A long silence ensues and you eye the man in front of you wearily, praying to whoever that his brother doesn’t wake up anytime soon. He gestures to your chest, your eyebrow raised at the action.

“One more chance, just hand it over and you can leave.”

You shake your head. “No can do.”

Just like before, he launches. His movements were well calculated, you’ll give him that - but your smaller size compared to his larger one was a good advantage. The two of you fought for a little longer, both refusing to back down. He got in a few good hits, but you had managed some that would leave more marks. Having had enough of you punching his kidneys over and over, Tangerine wounds his arms around your waist, throwing you onto the counter.

Your thighs wrap around him as you slide to the side, bringing his head down to smack his forehead against the steel surface. He looses his balance, and you turn around onto your belly in an attempt to slide to the other side. Tangerine grabs at your leg however, sliding you back towards him.

Your nails try to grip onto the slick surface, hoping to grab something but you’re already being turned onto your back - his large hands holding down your wrists, his lower half keeping you pinned.

His skin was flushed red with small cuts here and there, but you were sure you weren’t exactly far off. He stares down at you with a bewildered expression. “Did you,” He huffs out, grimacing as his muscles tense at the pain bursting through his body. “Did you plant fuckin’ bombs everywhere?”

“Guilty.” You replied, your breath coming out laboured in an attempt to catch it.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, both in an attempt to get in a full breath of air. Tangerine stares down at your cleavage, your breasts rising and falling quickly as you wince in pain. The hard drive was quite literally in arms reach, but he knew better than to let go and give you a free hand.

“How we doing this darling?” He says, chuckling as he nods towards your chest. “Am I reaching in there or are you?”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” You reply, feeling him push against you a little harder. “Is that- Are you? I really hope that’s another gun in your pants.”

“It’s not,” Tangerine looks down towards his pants before back to you, shrugging. “You’re not the only one who loves being thrown around.”

“You got me the-“

“Angel? Angel can you hear me?” A voice fills your right ear, a beeping following suit. You gasp, ignoring Tangerines expression as you hear your handlers voice for the first time in hours. The connection in this place was the worst, and you had gone in on the job completely blind. You would have forgotten about your earpiece had he not said anything.

“Xan!” You speak aloud, the man currently pinning you to a counter looking around for another person. “It’s my handler, sh.”

“Oh I’m sorry darlin’, is this a bad time right now?” He rolls his eyes at you, almost in shock at the woman below him. Is she really on call right now?

“I’ll explain later, but you got about ten ravens, coming your way,” Xan was worried, that much you could tell. “You’ve got less than a minute.”

That wasn’t nearly enough time to get Tangerine off of you and out the exit. The Englishman stares, watching your expression go from shocked, to your eyebrows furrowing. You look around for anything and then tilt your head back, staring down at the door where the bad guys will soon be entering.

Fair enough, you begin to hear heavy footsteps coming your way, and Tangerine looks up at the other doors, having heard them too. His weight feels a little less heavy against your thighs, but his hands still grip at your wrists.

There just wasn’t any time.

“You’re not married are you?” You ask, using the distraction to slide your thighs beside his waist, sliding your calves up behind his lower back and locking your heels behind him.

He mumbles a little huh before shaking his head. Great.

With your legs locked behind him, you pull him down on top of you, bringing his lips to yours. His mouth was searing hot, and his eyes were wide at first in shock before he melted into the kiss. Tangerine’s hands leave your wrists, one hand gripping at your waist as the other holds himself up. The kiss was heavy and hungry, and your now free hand fisted at his ripped shirt in an attempt to draw him closer.

The hairs above his lip tickle at you, an almost funny feeling. To stop yourself from commenting on his facial hair, you bite at his lip. He groans against your skin, and his tongue was just about to sneak past your lips when the doors barge open, causing the gun for hire to seperate from you.

You whine at the loss of his touch, half of you playing the part, the other genuinely missing the feeling. Hiding yourself in his shoulder, Tangerine brings one hand behind your upper back, shielding you from the men who had just entered the room.

“Can we fuckin’ help you?” He yells at them, glaring at their amused expressions. You both sent silent prayers they didn’t enter the room any further, their guns would no doubt be out and proud if they spotted Lemon on the floor behind you. “Can’t a man get some privacy?”

One of your hands laid against his pec as you titled your head towards him, feigning embarrassment. “Baby,” You kissed at his neck before bringing your head near his ear. “Can we go somewhere more private? I don’t like an audience.”

Tangerine swallows the urge to groan. “Seriously gentlemen, you’re scaring my lady here.”

The men say something, but you don’t speak French, and clearly neither does Tangerine - but what he said works, and they slowly but surely leave after scanning the kitchen, seeing it was relatively empty apart from you two horn dogs.

Once the doors close behind them, you both visibly relax, Tangerine’s shoulders dropping as he releases a breath he was holding. You’re sitting up, your legs still wrapped around him with your chest pressed against his. “How did you know that would work?” He asks, amazed and feeling rather warm at your quick thinking.

“Public displays of affection, they always make people uncomfortable.” Tangerine scoffs at this, his hands resting on your waist.

“Affection? You were grindin’ into me like your life depended on it.”

You gasp at him. “I think you were the one humping me like a dog, and don’t get me started on that caterpillar above your lip tickling me!”

He chuckles loudly at you. “Ladies love the ‘caterpillar’ darling, never had any complaints.”

Someone groans from behind the two of you, and your attention turns to the twin on the floor. Lemon was slowly waking up, and Tangerine immediately lets you go, rushing to be beside his brother as he comes to.

You felt almost guilty, having been the one to knock him out and punch him - albeit accidentally. Tangerine leans down, clicking his fingers in his brothers face.

“Angel, you have a clear exit straight ahead,” Xan speaks through the earpiece yet again, confused by your location having not moved. “What… What are you doing with a frying pan?”

Again, you almost felt guilty, but you couldn’t afford to have the two of them come after you.

“I’m really sorry for this,” You say, and as Tangerine turns to look at you, you’ve already swung, letting the metal connect with his head. “Seriously, really sorry.” You were hoping not to use as much force as before, wanting to slow him down rather than knock him out cold.

He falls over, landing on top of his brother. Loud groans leave the two of them, Lemon feeling the weight of his brother and Tangerine now kissing the floor. Yeah, it was too hard.

You climb over the two of them, leaning down to pull Tangerine off of the other man and laying him upright. His eyes roll into the back of his head as pain vibrates in his skull, and he doesn’t notice as you reach for his phone in his other pocket.

“W-What,” he mumbles, his vision blurry. “What are you doin’?”

“Giving you my number,” You tell him nonchalantly. “Give me a call when you’re no longer pissed off yeah?”

He wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly, and by the time his eyes have focused - you’re gone, and he was ready to fall asleep - and he did.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been knocked out for, but it was definitely less than Lemon. Your heels were left behind and his phone was left beside him, the device pinging with a text from an unknown number with an angel emoji.

Tangerine sits upright with a wince, noticing Lemon holding a bag of frozen pees against his head. His brother throws a spare bag of frozen carrots at him, and he catches it, copying his actions “You want to tell me what the fuck happened in 'ere?”

The man on the floor sighs, knowing you had run off with the hard drive. “She got away with the intel.”

“No shit,” Lemon pushes the pees closer to the bump on his head. “I’m just surprised she kept us alive.”

This intrigued him. He knew of you? “You know Angel?”

“You don’t read anything I give you do you?” He mutters something along the lines of idiot and typical Diesel. “She was in the files I gave you last week, she’s good, real good.”

“She kissed me.” Tangerine replies, ignoring the digs made at his lack of awareness.

“And?” He retorts, not following along. Lemon had read your file in great detail. You were skilled and a quick thinker, so it didn’t shock him that you had the upper hand on his brother.

“And I think I’m in love.” Tangerine stares down at his phone, the angel emoji staring back at him.

“Oh fuck off you are.”

#tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x oc #tangerine fic #bullet train #fookinfandoms

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