#| * just wait a little longer. queue. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jlheon · 3 months

Text

𝓒𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 ୨୧ 𝐒𝐉𝐘

(𝓹airing) — sjy x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓷eighbors to lovers ; fluff & hs au (𝔀ordcout) three-thousand one-hundred 𝓹eng's note. america core oops 🦅 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. a sequence of events from your and jake’s senior year

꣑୧ 𝓶𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

01. new hair

it’s the first day of the new school year. you’re tired but less than what you’ve been in previous years.

this year, you can finally say goodbye to the early bus rides and even longer rides home.

your neighbor, sim jaeyun, has a car and parking and is willing to bring you to and from. you’ve never been so thankful for the blonde boy.

blonde? more like brunette boy now.

“you dyed your hair back?” you say as you walk up to the driver’s side of the car, he rolls down the window.

“yeah,” jake nodded. “what do you think?”

“it looks good…” you admire his new hair color and cut. “still a little dead though,” you reach through the window to touch his hair. his hair is still soft but there’s a hint of frailness from the rounds of bleach he’s been doing for nearly a year.

“maybe you could use that hair mask you always use on me?” he suggests.

“maybe.”

02. amusement park

this is the first and last time you will ever skip school. especially with sim jaeyun.

it’s his idea to ditch school and drive to the nearest amusement park, two hours away from your town.

“come on ____ie,” jake says as you buckle your seatbelt. “it’s SAT day for the juniors… we won’t be missing anything!”

“still! our parents are going to be called!” you argue.

“if they get mad at you, i’ll deal with them,” jake reassures you, putting a hand on your headrest while reversing out of your driveway. “the tickets are on me.”

“tickets?” you raise an eyebrow.

you and jake spend the whole day until sundown at the amusement park.

once you finally accept the fact you should be more laid back for senior year, you drag him from ride to ride. despite him being scared shitless of roller coasters he goes on them with you since he knows how badly you want to ride them.

the only condition is that he gets to hold your hand if he gets scared. which is inevitably the whole day, which he gets to use the excuse to hold your hand in queues.

he also holds your hand while walking around the park with the excuse of not wanting to lose you in the crowd.

as if there are a bunch of people on a random weekday. the only ‘crowd’ is just the families with children no older than five.

the only thing jake can confidently do is get you a giant plushie at one of the scam-like carnival game stands. which he carries around for the remainder of the day.

you hate to admit it but skipping was a good idea even though when you two return home both sets of your parents are waiting furiously on your front porch.

“it was my idea,” jake takes the blame as you peek out from behind him, holding his hand for comfort.

you both get grounded for a week and are forced to take the bus to and from school. that didn’t matter though because you both had fun that day.

03. sick day

one morning jake is surprised to see that when he pulls into your driveway that you aren’t waiting for him.

you’re so punctual and on time so it makes him worried. but he gives you the benefit of the doubt and sits in his car for ten minutes. maybe you're just running a little late.

when you don’t respond to his texts jake becomes more worried. he caves, gets out of his car, walks up your front steps, and rings the doorbell.

when you come to the door with messy hair and a pale face jake can already sense you’re sick and miserable.

“woah, are you okay?”

“sorry for not texting,” you sneeze. “i’m staying home today.”

“are your parents home?” jake asks, looking around your house behind you.

“no,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes.

“let me in.”

“but school starts in twenty, you’ll be late,” you try to push him out the door, though he’s stronger than you.

“let me take care of you,” he wraps his arms around your waist and carries you upstairs towards your room.

jake spends the day in your room giving you medicine, soup, and under the covers next to you. making sure he’s with you as you rest incase you need anything. not letting you get up at all unless you really must.

your parents come home to you and jake cuddled up on the couch.

to no one's surprise, your parents call jake’s parents and inform them about their son's whereabouts for the day.

jake does not get grounded for skipping that time.

꣑୧ 𝓪𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥

01. after school nap

after a long day of test after test, each teacher trying to get one in before winter break, you’re exhausted.

walking up to jake’s car with dark circles and messy braids. ready to go home and crash on your bed to start your week-long break.

the frigid weather has you shivering as you approach the vehicle. your nose and cheeks flushed red from the cold.

“cold outside?” jake asks as you quickly shut the door and sink into the passenger’s seat. his car had been running for a couple of minutes now as he got let out early by his teacher.

“super,” you yawn, snuggling into your jacket.

the car is taken over by a comfortable silence. the only noises being the car engine and the wind outside. keeping his eyes on the road jake asks you a question.

“how were your tests?” he asks while turning the corner.

he gets no response, at the red light he glances over to see you sleeping soundly in the seat next to him.

when arriving at your house jake decides that you look too adorable and comfortable to wake you up just yet. he knows you’ve been studying hard the past week and barely sleeping. ten minutes is what he tells himself, he’ll wake you up in ten minutes.

ten minutes later jake has also fallen asleep.

you both nap in the heated car for god knows how long. then when a continuous taps on the window register in jake’s brain he opens his eyes to see it is already dark out. the digital clock reads three-quarters past five.

your mom is currently knocking on the driver’s side window.

“hi jaeyun,” she greets when he rolls down the window. “i think you two have been sleeping for too long.”

“yeah, i’m so sorry!” he apologizes. “i guess i fell asleep while i was waiting for her to wake up.”

“that’s alright,” your mother smiles at him. “just making sure you weren’t doing anything else in here!”

jake can’t help the heat creeping up his neck in embarrassment at the suggestion you two were doing something other than sleeping.

“how about you join us for dinner tonight!”

“i’d love to,” jake scratches the back of his neck. “i’ll bring her inside.” he looks over at your peaceful expression wondering how you didn’t wake up in the past couple of minutes.

02. passenger princess

“get out,” jake says when sunghoon climbs into the passenger’s seat of his car.

“what do you mean?” sunghoon replies, furrowing his bushy eyebrows. “you said you’re taking me home!”

“i am!” the australian boy retorts. “but you have to sit in the back.”

“why!” the younger boy whines, crossing his arms childishly.

“because the front seat is for ____,” jake explains, unlocking the door so sunghoon can exit.

“not fair,” sunghoon groans. “last time i checked she didn’t call shotgun.”

“well, she always sits next to me-” he’s cut off by the back door opening and you setting your backpack on the middle seat. “hey, don’t sit there. sunghoon was just about to move.”

“oh! okay!” you get up, looking at sunghoon innocently.

“fuck you,” the black-haired boy says under his breath. “i’m supposed to be your passenger princess.”

“hi hoon!” you sweetly greet him, he suddenly doesn’t feel too betrayed anymore.

“hey,” he says as he goes to the back seat, switching places with you.

you all buckle into the car and as jake backs out of the parking lot you reach over the console to plug your phone into the charger.

jake never lets me do that without asking! sunghoon thinks to himself.

you start fiddling with the car plane on his screen. selecting yourself as aux and playing your shared playlist with jake.

sunghoon notices that his phone is no longer an option for bluetooth on jake’s car and feels even more offended.

jake hums along to the songs you queue as you sing along while reapplying your lip tint in the pull-down mirror.

jake said he hates this song! sunghoon thinks again, cringing at how down bad his friend is for you.

when the trio arrives at sunghoon’s house he quickly gets out and bids goodbye to you only as you wave through the window as he walks up the steps to his front door.

jake soon receives a text from his best friend.

penghoon 🐧 : that was disgusting GET UPP i am your PASSENGER PRINCESS NOT HER ☹️☹️☹️💔💔💔

03. corsage

the friday before prom on the way home school school, jake can’t shake off the sad pout on your face. he feels as if there’s a small rain cloud thundering above your head that’s making your lips droop.

“what’s the matter?” jake asks gently as he sees your sad state.

“i don’t have a date to prom anymore,” your frown becomes stronger.

“what?” he asks with wide eyes. “did you just find out? prom is tomorrow night?”

“i know,” you slouch into your seat. “her boyfriend surprised her by flying in last night and now i don’t get to have a corsage like everyone else! neither do i have a ride…”

“i’ll pick you up,” jake offers. “i don’t have a date either.”

“thank you,” you say with a slight frown still on your face, though inside your relieved to know jake is going alone.

the next morning jake rushes to find a place that has a corsage just perfect for you and for him to match with.

unfortunately, he doesn’t know your dress color so he brings as many different colored ties with him when he picks you up. picking a white corsage so it can match with any color.

when you answer the door jake feels all the air being knocked from his lungs. you’re breathtaking. literally. he starts coughing and you pull him into your house and pat his back.

“where’s your tie?” you ask when he finally starts breathing normally again.

“i have multiple in my car,” he says bashfully. “i wanted to make sure we matched.”

jake quickly leaves to retrieve the ties and corsage.

when you spot the clear box with the pretty white flower that matches the one on his blazer you’re quick to nearly tackle him.

“oh my god! you got me a corsage!” you squeal hugging is neck tightly.

“anything for my prom date,” pats your head, careful to not mess up the hairstyle he knows you spent a good hour on.

04. third-wheel

“are we waiting for someone?” you ask as jake scrolls on his phone after you two have been sitting in the car for a couple of minutes now.

“yeah,” jake’s eyes drift from his phone to the back exit of the school, finally seeing the tall black-haired boy making his way towards the car. “we’re bringing riki home.”

“hey guys!!” the younger boy grins as he slides into the backseat.

“hi ki!” you smile at him in the rearview mirror. “do you want to come with me and jae to the café downtown? or are you busy?”

“i’m not busy!” riki has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, knowing that jake had told him to not get in the way of your study date.

alas, you’re the one who invited him, so jake cannot protest.

“oh! haha great!” jake says as he grips the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles turn white. luckily for him, that’s the least of your concerns as you stare at the way his veins have become more prominent. “the more the merrier!”

the three of you sit in a booth in the café. thankfully jake had kicked riki out of your side of the booth while you were in the bathroom. now jake was by your side doing his own homework as you both shared a slice of strawberry shortcake.

riki on the other hand sits at the opposite side of the table with his straw conveniently next to his mouth as he plays games on his phone.

“riki, don’t you have any homework?” you ask him as you look over at the gaming underclassmen.

“i did it in study hall,” he clarifies, eyes still glued to his screen like a giant ipad kid.

“i find that hard to believe,” jake whispers in your ear.

“be nice,” you nudge him, to which he shrugs.

you both go back to doing your work for a while until jake sees that you have one bite's worth of cake left. he knows you’ll argue with him and insist he eats it. so instead he silently picks it up with his fork and turns to you.

“____,” he says as he brings the utensil to your lips, waiting for you to get the whole piece before retracting his hand, “good?” he asks.

you nod your head as you finish chewing the cake. jake notices that some icing got stuck on the corner of your lips and wordlessly brings his thumb to your face to clean you.

you both stare at each other. the way your eyes sparkle when jake makes eye contact with you is mesmerizing. he dares to almost lean in until riki clears his throat.

“um, my mom says i have to be home for dinner soon.”

“oh yeah,” jake says as he awkwardly backs away. “let’s get you home.”

05. driver switch

you’ve been sitting around in jake’s car for about an hour now. you didn’t know he had practice today and he had only gotten to tell you after the buses left.

instead, he had you walk to the soccer field so he could give you his keys so you could wait in the car for him.

his teammates looked at him suspiciously when you approached.

“since when did you have a girlfriend?” heeseung, the soccer captain asks.

“that’s ____,” riki, an underclassman, interrupts, “jake’s neighbor he’s secretly in love with.”

“shut up,” jake shoves his shoulder as you were still walking close by.

“is that why you wouldn’t set me up on a date with her?” sunghoon pops up behind jake, startling him.

“maybe,” jake mumbles, taking the ball and kicking it along.

once practice is over jake walks to the parking lot with sunghoon and jay. he spots you from afar sitting in his car while reading a book.

he says goodbye to his friends who are quick to tease him and walks over to the car. knocking on the window so you let him open it.

“hi! how was practice?”

“tiring,” jake sighs, placing his bag in the back seat.

“seems like it,” you comment, “i’ll drive us home!”

“nah, it’s fine.”

“please! i never get to drive because i don’t have my own car,” you whine, “you’re clearly tired anyways.”

“it’s my car,” jake argues.

“but i have the keys!” you pout.

“just this once,” jake says while you both switch seats.

06. the date

after your almost kiss at the café, jake musters up the courage to bring you on a real date. the near kiss did everything to confirm that the pining he had been doing for you since the beginning of high school was mutual.

waiting for him to pick you up was seriously nerve-wracking. you kept telling yourself that this wasn’t new at all, which is true, and that it was just jake.

but that was exactly the problem.

you haven’t seen jake since he confessed to you and asked you out on a real date.

that was three days ago, the last day of school when he dropped you home after getting celebratory ice cream.

you’ve been in jake’s car with him more than a hundred times but today was different. you weren’t just driving to school or around town, you were going on a date with him.

at that fancy place, you both discussed going to back when you were just friends. scrolling through the menu on the website for a hypothetical meal turned into reality now.

“you look beautiful,” jake says when you walk downstairs.

of course, he went inside to talk to your parents beforehand. jake was nothing but a gentleman. he reaches for your hand and twirls you around once your feet touch the floor. he admires your dress with lovesick eyes and you think you might as well be dreaming right now.

you bid goodbye to your parents and walk hand in hand down to his car. jake reached to open the passenger door for you and made sure you were inside before closing it.

you fiddle with your necklace as jake starts the car, which he catches onto the awkward atmosphere quickly.

“are you nervous?” jake glances over at you.

“kinda- a lot actually,” you chuckle awkwardly. “it’s just kinda weird being in your car for the first time after we told each other we liked each other.”

“i get it,” jake nods his head before reaching over the console to take your shaking hand into his. “it’s just me.”

“that’s the thing,” you say. “of course i’m nervous jae, i like you, and now you know.”

“i like you too though and i’m also nervous,” he squeezes your hand. “this shouldn’t be any different from when we hang out! just don’t overthink it.”

“okay,” you feel yourself getting flustered, interlacing your fingers with his as he starts driving.

“at least we already know what we want to order!” jake laughs, recalling your late-night menu scrolling two weeks ago before either of you knew about the reciprocated feelings. “one less thing to be worried about.”

you finally let out a genuine laugh.

that night when jake walks you back to your door he does what riki interrupted you from doing. kissing you softly under the dim light provided by your porch light.

when you both finally pull away to see jake cutely pouting at the fact your night together is coming to a close.

“what’s wrong, yun?” you giggle, resting your hands on his chest.

“i don’t want to go home yet,” he says with a pout on his face. bringing you closer so your head rests on his chest as he holds you.

“maybe you can come inside?” you look up at him with hopeful eyes.

at the end of the night, you end up in your boyfriend’s arms.

759 notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 2 months

Text

(Re)organized Crime, Part 8!

I was going to wait a little longer to post this (I say, looking guiltily at the queue) but I felt bad leaving it on a cliff hanger!

Content: Attempted Breaking and Entering, Fear for Safety, Hurt/Comfort

Four months ago, Simon drove you home for the first time.

It was a bad week all around. On Monday, Soap broke his arm. Gaz left with Farah and Alex on Tuesday for a business trip on the other side of the country. Wednesday brought about two dozen emails from Philip Graves’ wretched assistant, ugly pastel green borders framing each one. By Thursday, you almost weren’t surprised by the call about a lost shipment.

You were surprised when Price raised his voice at you, though.

“The fuck do you mean it’s missing?” he snarled.

You stood across from him with your tablet in hand, grossly unorganized logs open onscreen.

“I don’t think there are other ways I could mean it,” you answered lightly. “The crates left port and didn’t show up at the next one.”

You were scribbling on the screen, compiling the log into something more comprehensive. Purposefully not making eye contact because you could feel the angry heat radiating off him. It was making your hands tremble, but you’d be damned if you let it show.

“Well then where the fuck are they?” he demanded.

“If I knew that, sir, they wouldn’t be missing.”

“Are you taking the fucking piss?”

At that, you let out a heavy breath and looked up, expression flat. Price’s expression was dark, mouth tight. One hand gripped the arm of his office chair while the index finger of the other tap, tap, tapped his desk. You stared him down for a moment, reminding yourself to breathe with each uneven beat of your heart. Waited through a count of 20 before he huffed.

“Just find the damn thing,” he growled.

“Shall I use my crystal ball?”

You nearly jumped a mile when he barked your name in reprimand. And that was about the time you had enough.

“John.”

He froze. Across the room, so did Simon and Soap. You were so shocked by your own outburst that you came up a bit short as well. Didn’t even have a chance to gather more words when Price’s shoulders dropped. The anger melted away, replaced with apology and self-deprecation.

“Christ, luv, I’m sorry. Where have my manners gone?”

He ran a hand down his face, pinched the bridge of his nose where you were sure a headache was brewing.

“Thank you for the apology. I know this is important,” you soothed, softening your voice. “Give me 30 minutes and I’ll have a list of people you should yell at.”

He grimaced, “Take 45 for the trouble, darling.”

You used the extra fifteen minutes to brew him a fresh cup of tea and served it with a couple pain meds. When you’d delivered the analysis, he told you to head home early, that it would be a late night regardless and there was no need for you to do more than you already had. (It hadn’t helped the way that he’d ducked his head, still sheepish. You’d squeezed his wrist as you’d dropped off a list of damned names.)

With your usual drivers gone, Soap’s arm broken, and Price out to rip several people a new one, Simon drove you home.

He scowled in the vestibule while you fumbled for your keys. Then glared at the entryway as you trudged to the elevator. He grumbled as he accepted the invitation into your apartment, only to sneer (yes, you knew he was sneering even with the mask) at the doorknob and deadbolt.

“This place is a bloody deathtrap,” he finally declared, crossing his arms.

“It’s not that bad,” you replied, shaking your head.

“One solid kick and this door is coming down.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Then don’t kick it.”

“I’m sure a robber will be polite enough to knock,” he scoffed.

“The crime rate is good in this area,” you argued. Not great, but decent enough…

“Bloody hell. Did you even – are your fucking windows unlocked?”

You blinked. “We’re on the third floor, Simon.”

“I don’t give a rats arse—”

“And stop swearing at me.”

“—that you’re on the third floor. Lock your windows.”

You rolled your eyes but faltered when he narrowed his eyes, looming in the doorway like a fussy boogeyman. A clear indication that he did not plan to leave until you complied.

“You can’t be serious!” You were not whining.

“As the fu— as the damn plague.”

You snorted. “I think ‘damn’ is still swearing.”

He didn’t deign to respond to that, just arched his eyebrows. You mirror him right back, preparing to make a snippy comment about wasting company time.

“I’m sure Price would agree,” he said as you opened your mouth. You shut it with a snap.

Smug bastard.

You groaned but made a show of padding to all the windows and clicking the latches shut. Even when into the bedroom to secure those too. When you were done, he grunted in satisfaction and turned for the door.

“Lock this too.”

“I will, I will, I’m not dumb.”

You scrunched your nose at the skeptical grunt you received that time.

Before leaving, he pointed at you again, eyes narrowed. “Lock. Them. All.”

“They are!”

“From now on.”

“Yes, Simon.”

If you survive this episode of Dateline you’ve found yourself in, you owe him a scone and those nice cigarettes he pretends he doesn’t smoke.

“Open th’ fuckin’ door, Bunny!”

Your fingers twitch around the hilt of the knife. It’s not a big one, but it is serrated. That’s not going in or out without some serious damage. If not the fatal kind, at least the messy kind. Brandon’s not doing anything to you without leaving a crime scene investigator’s wet dream behind.

“Bunnyyyyyyyy!”

The banging starts again, nearly as fast as your heart. You could swear it gets louder every time. Maybe it’s just getting closer, layers of wood chipping away, closing the already too-small distance between you.

You glance desperately at your phone, but the screen remains damningly dark. Price promised he’d be here soon, but it feels like hours since you hung up to preserve what little battery life you had left. Your stomach churns as the pounding turns to thicker, harder thumps. Throwing his body into the door again, trying to force entry. Simon’s mutterings about kicking the door echo in your head.

You should have listened.

“Bun—fuck!”

You jolt as something slams into the door, nearly taking it (and the entry table you braced against it) down. There’s scuffling and scraping, muffled shouting, rapid footsteps— then silence. You hold your breath, every muscle in your body wound tight enough to snap.

“It’s alright now.”

You lurch from your protective crouch in the hallway, shove clumsily at the table. The mangled front door swings in crooked on one hinge, cracked and splintered from top to bottom.

And John is there on the other side.

You’re not sure if he reaches for you or if you throw yourself into his arms. All that matters is that he’s clutching you tight to his broad chest, tucking your head beneath his chin. Safe, protected. Your head spins as you lean into him, knowing that he’ll support you. His heart is beating hard against your cheek.

“John,” you breathe, now that fear isn’t squeezing your lungs in a vice.

“I’m here, luv,” he murmurs into your hair.

You’re shaking. Adrenaline seeps from your bones, takes all their heat and steel with it. You’re left cold and feeble in the aftermath, fingertips numb as they curl tight into his shirt. You don’t know where the knife is; you don’t care. You don’t need it now.

“H-He… He…” you start.

John shushes you, squeezes a bit tighter in reassurance. He knows; you don’t need to tell him, don’t have to remind yourself of what could have happened.

“Where…?” you try instead, but words are so hard. All the trembling must have knocked your voice loose, lost somewhere in the pit of your stomach.

“Soap and Gaz are taking care of it,” John says.

The last of the tension drains away. Your boys will scare Brandon off, maybe enough that he won’t ever bother you again. (The thought alone makes your eyes burn.) John is here now, and – when you peek out from around his bicep – so is Simon.

“You were right,” you mumble, “a-about the door.”

Simon winces. “I’m sorry that I was.”

Somehow, that’s what finally bursts the bubble of your restraint. You sob. It’s loud and sniffly and ugly. In the back of your mind, the part that can never just let you rest, you’re mortified to be doing this in front of your coworker. And on your boss’s nice shirt too. You have an image to maintain—

Except John’s broad hand is rubbing soothing circles into your lower back. He’s gathering you even closer, letting you shelter in his warmth and strength. Easing you through hiccups with quiet murmurs, telling you he’s proud and that you did so well to call him.

Through tears, you see Simon reach out. Scarred knuckles run gently down your wet cheek.

“We take care of our own, little miss.”

You warble out a broken little “Simoooon” that seems to break the solemn atmosphere, John sighing against your temple and Simon’s shoulders slumping in what might be fondness.

It’s not long before Soap and Gaz return, looking no worse for wear, thankfully. (Not that you think they can’t handle themselves – but Brandon was drunk and who knows if he had a weapon or not. Accidents happen.)

“Aw, lass,” Soap coos when he sees you. Calmer now, but still sniffling and wiping at stray tears. “He’s gone now. Won’ be botherin’ you again.”

You blink at the fresh blood on his knuckles and don’t ask. You believe him.

“Thank you.”

“Nothin’ to thank us for, doll. Should have taken care of ‘im earlier,” Gaz replies.

“Earlier?” John asks. He’s trying for your sake, you can tell, but you know him too well to miss the sharp note in his voice.

“Hadn’t had a chance to debrief, sir,” Gaz explains regretfully.

You untuck your face from John’s chest to be better heard, clearing your throat. “Still, for all four of you to come here…”

“What else would we do, sit with our thumbs up our bums?” Soap teases.

“That’ll do,” Simon snips, but you giggle anyway.

It doesn’t take much to convince you to leave your apartment – it takes a bit more to convince you to go to John’s. Unfortunately, you’re outnumbered, and while that normally wouldn’t be a problem, you’re not in a headspace to be stubborn, argumentative, or superficially brave.

All the boys have bachelor pads ill-suited to guests, especially on short notice. Maybe on some other night, under different circumstances, you would have insisted on a hotel.

But the idea of being alone in an unfamiliar place makes your skin crawl. You don’t want to be alone. You want to be near John.

“We take care of our own,” Simon said – so you let them.

Gaz, Soap, and Simon help to pack you an overnight bag, scattering to different corners of your apartment to collect items. In the meantime, you keep clinging to John because he keeps letting you. Exhaustion creeps at the edges of your mind, doubling gravity on your slumping shoulders.

“Did I interrupt something important?” you ask finally, voice hoarse.

“No, luv. Just a card game with some old friends. Soap was losing anyway.”

You sigh, relieved. At least you don’t have the loss of some important business deal weighing on your conscience.

“Poker again?”

“Kid can’t keep a straight face for the life of him.”

You hide your smile against his shoulder and appreciate the chuckle you feel more than hear in his chest.

Simon takes the lead out of the building while Gaz and Soap bring up the rear. You’re a bit self-conscious of any neighbors seeing you in this state, but thankfully none make an appearance. It’s too late in the evening for anyone to be coming in or leaving, and if there were any witnesses to Brandon’s bullshit, you never saw (or heard) them.

(“The hell is their problem, actin’ like they didnae hear that bawbag?” Soap grumbles. “Bystander effect,” you answer, shrugging. He grimaces in understanding, but still looks pissed.)

The car is warm when John bundles you into the back seat. Soap takes the wheel, Simon the passenger side. Gaz sits on your other side and leans his knee gently into yours.

“It’s over now, doll, you can rest. We won’t let anythin’ happen t’you,” he promises.

You smile wearily, lean in to drop a grateful kiss on his cheek.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you four,” you sigh as you snuggle into John’s side again.

“Don’t need to,” Simon answers gruffly, “we’re not goin’ anywhere.”

John hums in agreement, low and pleasant by your ear.

“You always take such good care of us,” he murmurs. Quiet, just for the two of you. “Let us return the favor for once, won’t you, darling?”

You want to resist. You should. You drop your head to his shoulder and sigh, “Okay.”

Between the gentle motion of the car and the pattering of a fresh rainstorm, you don’t stay awake for long. You nod off within four blocks of your apartment, peacefully unaware of the dazed and bloody body in the trunk.

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #mafia boss price #mafia!au #assistant!reader #oddly wholesome for a mafia fic #john price x reader

818 notes · View notes

tasteleeknow · 1 year

Text

BETWEEN

PAIRING: minho + chan x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. f2l. roommates au. threesome/poly. CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. WORD COUNT: 5k

SUMMARY: Your two roommates are your best friends in the world. You’d also love nothing more than to be sandwiched between them. Queue tension and smut with feelings.

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

It’s laundry day, a day you’ve put off a little long. You end up grabbing a shirt from Minho’s clean clothing he’d left in the dryer to throw over your head as you wait for your own load to finish. Neither of them were around. You’re leaning over the counter to grab a paper towel when the front door opens. You peak around the corner just as Chris is throwing his shoes aside. Okay, this is fine. The shirt is just long enough to hang over the tops of your thighs, covering the pale blue underwear you’d slept in.

There’s no escape. You’re going to have to face your friend in your underwear. Be casual about it, you tell yourself. It’s not a big deal. You really needed to stop putting off doing laundry.

You continue with your task, wiping down the kitchen bench as your eggs fry. “Are you hungry?!” you call out. “I’m making breakfast if you want anything.”

He was always up before you and Minho, spending his early mornings at the gym.

“I’m starv…ing….” he trails off from behind you. Alright, so he’d noticed the no pants thing. Act casual.

“Good, I’m making extra. I thought—”

Then he’s behind you, not quite touching, but hovering so close you're forced to pause your cleaning. He leans over you. “You can wear mine, if you like,” he says, tugging a little at the hem of Minho’s t-shirt.

Then he’s gone. The shower starts just as the dryer announces your clothes are ready.

—

You’d hoped your regular nightmares would be left in childhood. But as you’d grown out of your favourite shoes and your allergy to soy, your nightmares had stuck. The first time you’d crept into Minho’s room after a particularly bad one, you’d nudged him awake hesitantly. He’d welcomed you under his covers, unquestioning. They stayed away with him, with Chris too the few times he’d fallen asleep in your bed. It was only when you were alone that your sleep was disturbed.

Minho is curled up on his side when you crawl under his sheets, shuffling as close to him as possible without touching. He still stirs when you roll over to face the edge of the bed. He would always wake up when you joined him. He connects his front to your back, as always. But then, with a small contented noise from his throat, his hand slips up under the hem of your shirt—his warm palm resting against your stomach.

This is new.

“Min?” you whisper.

When he doesn’t respond, you roll over. His hand slips to rest on your back. You reach up to brush his hair behind his ear, tucking the soft strands away from his eyes. His hair was longer than you’d ever seen it. He hadn’t bothered getting it cut. He hums, almost a purr. He’s awake. “Does it bother you when I sleep here?” you whisper.

His brows pull together slightly and then he tugs you a little closer, pressing you right up against his chest. You have a feeling that’s all the answer you’ll be receiving.

You watch as he drifts off. It only takes him a few minutes. His features go slack, lips parting slightly as his breathing evens out. You follow him shortly after.

It’s only a few hours later that you find yourself staring at the ceiling—Minho’s legs tangled with your own. The nightmare that had led you into this room had been particularly bad, startling you awake with a racing heart. You’re usually fine after joining Minho. But not tonight. It’s enough that you find yourself creeping from his bedroom in the early hours of the morning, completely giving up on more sleep. It’s unsurprising when you find Chris awake, lounging on the couch with a book in his hands. He often had a worse time with sleep than you did.

“Nightmare?” he says as you settle into his side, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Mm. Nothing new, it was just… more intense.”

He lifts the woollen blanket off his legs and drapes it over you. “Intense?” he questions.

“He-It… stood right over me. It usually just gets to my door before I wake up but… it walked right up to my bed and just… stood there. It felt like he was going to lunge at me any second… it was—” you cut yourself off as you bury your face in his shoulder, a shiver running up your spine.

“You’re alright,” he soothes. “Promise.”

“I know. I just… I hate sleeping alone.”

Minho chooses that moment to stumble into the room, fluffy socks sliding along the floorboards as he runs his fingers through his hair. He collapses onto the couch beside you seconds later, dropping his head into your lap as he stretches out as much as he can along the cushions.

Chris huffs out a breathy laugh beside you, draping his arm over your shoulder—book forgotten. “Problem solved,” he says.

“Where’d you go?” Minho mumbles from your lap, eyes closed.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you answer as you brush his hair from his face, the soft brown strands a pleasant occupation for your hands.

A bolt of lightning lights up the room, drowning out the soft glow from the lamp Chris had been using to read. “The storm?” Minho questions as you play with his hair, stroking some of the strands around his temples.

“My dreams,” you correct.

“You don’t have them with me.”

“I know… but the one I had earlier just lingered, I guess.”

All three of you are quiet as rain starts falling, the type of rain that falls heavy with no build up—creating a curtain between you and the world.

“Stop sleeping alone, then,” Minho says. “Just stay with me.”

You take a moment to process his meaning. Then, “Everynight?”

“Mm.”

The corner of your mouth lifts a little. They were so good to you, both of them. “Love you,” you whisper as your fingers brush the shell of his ear.

He says nothing, his upper lip twitching a little.

You told them both as often as you could. You loved them more than anyone on earth. They had to know. It had morphed though, the type of love. That was always how you knew you’d end up loving someone. You had to know them so completely that you were safe, comfortable. Love them as friends, then as lovers.

It was the way Minho would keep one eye on you in public, when he knew you’d get overwhelmed. He always managed to catch onto when you wanted to leave before you’d even had a chance to voice it. He was quiet with his love, softly spoken words of comfort that you’d absorb without moving a muscle. If you moved, he might startle—shrink back into his comfort zone.

Chris’ attention was a little different. Rambling words, tripping over himself as he told you about his day. A hand on your back as you made your way through the busy weekend market. While Minho kept his eye on you from a distance, Chris was up close—physical contact and direct questioning.

A clap of thunder rumbles through the sky as Chris detangles himself from you. “Hot chocolate?” he asks.

“Mm, thank you.”

“Minho?” he prompts.

The man in question grunts out something that Chris interprets as a yes. “Three hot chocolates,” he says as he disappears into the kitchen, leaving you with a half asleep man in your lap. You continue playing with his hair as the storm intensifies. You’d always liked storms. They formed a protective barrier from the rest of the world. The air was washed clean, the suffocating heat of summer days was quashed, and no one expected anything from you.

You begin tracing over the tiny scars and imperfections that mark Minho’s face, little traces of evidence from his life before you’d met. It was hard to imagine that you’d ever been without him. It was only out of ignorance that you’d endured it.

“Do you really not mind if I sleep with you?” you ask, hoping he won’t retract his offer. “You won’t get sick of me?”

His eyes flutter open, long dark lashes visible even in the dim light. “I like it,” he says simply. I love you, you hear.

—

It’s an easy routine to fall into. Your room becomes a glorified closet as you spend each night in Minho’s instead. He even puts up with your pillow talk, and on nights where he’s particularly energetic, he offers a few thoughtful comments in addition to his hums of acknowledgement.

The feeling of the mattress dipping as someone sinks into the bed behind you wakes you. It’s the smell of his shampoo that tells you it’s Chris that wraps around you. “You awake?” he whispers.

“Mm, couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah,” he confirms.

Minho makes a small noise before draping his leg over you, smacking his lips before stilling again. You’re completely enveloped now, two warm bodies sheltering you from the darkness. Chris didn’t join you often. You’d spent a few nights with your back to the dark room wishing he would. Minho’s bed was centred in the room. You preferred having yours pushed against the wall. It felt safer.

Chris makes a small contended noise as he presses up behind you.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispers after a moment, breath ghosting over your neck. “You bent over the counter… your thighs…” It takes you off guard. You know what he’s talking about, despite it being weeks ago that he caught you in Minho’s shirt. You find yourself unable to breathe, heart thumping so loud you're sure he must hear it. “It’s wrong—dirty to think about you that way,” he continues. “I know. I know I shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

A pause. “What?”

“Why is it wrong?”

He’s quiet. Then, “Because you don’t want it.”

“How do you know?”

His hand rests at your hip, a comforting hold. He’s quiet as you reach down to take his hand in yours and guide it up to your lips. You press a kiss to the side of his hand, just below his thumb. A slow kiss, one you hope conveys all the meaning you intend it to.

When you release him, he doesn’t move. Not apart from brushing his thumb over your lips. He can’t see at all what he’s doing, still behind you in the dark room. He goes by feel, playing with your lower lip until—with a tiny amount of pressure—he pushes inside. Your lips wrap around him, taking his thumb as he presses it to your tongue.

Then he starts whispering, “I wanted to hold you down, press you into the counter and lift the shirt a little higher.”

You hum around his thumb, wrapping your own fingers around his wrist to hold him there. You’re not dreaming, you’re sure of it. You’re awake and sandwiched between the two people you love most. It’s surreal. This was always the way it would have gone. Chris was always going to be the one to bring you all together, finally.

He continues, “How would you sound?” His breathing is heavier now. “If I fucked you against it? Would you make pretty little noises? Would you say my name?” His thumb moves in and out a little as you suck at it. “I can’t stop thinking about it. How warm are you… how would you suck me in…”

Minho makes a small noise and you both still, waiting to see if he’ll wake.

“Have you ever heard him whine your name?” Chris starts again. His low whispers are a little more hushed now. “He tries not to. He tries so hard. He usually does it in the shower, when he knows you aren’t home.”

Your grip tightens on his wrist.

Chris continues, “You know how he is: he’s shy.” Warm lips to your neck, a firm press. “He wants you though.” His nose brushes the skin behind your ear as he nuzzles a little further into you. Then he laughs, quiet and breathy. “He was so casual when he said you should sleep here, like he doesn’t wrap his hand around his cock and imagine he was brave enough to fuck you into the mattress.”

You pull your lips from his thumb, leaving it wet. “Are you—Are you sure?” you whisper, attempting to turn your head to face him. His hand wraps around your throat, holding you in place and preventing you from turning.

“I’d never lie to you, baby.” His fingers are gentle at your neck, his thumb stroking your skin slowly. “I love you.” It’s surreal hearing those words in such a new context. Whispered into your neck as his wet thumb traces patterns against your throat. “Should we wake him up? We’ll have to be gentle,” he murmurs into your hair. “Don’t want him to startle.”

“Chris?” It’s almost a whine.

“Mm?” he hums, hips pressed right up against you now.

“Love you too.”

His fingers press slightly into your neck as he adjusts himself behind you. “Mm, I know.” Then his hand drops from your neck, across your hips, to your lower back. He pushes you a little, moving you across the mattress towards Minho. He still has one leg draped over yours. “Make sure he does. I’m not sure if he knows the same way I do.” He nudges you a little more. “Go on.”

Minho’s lips are parted. You reach to brush his plush upper lip with the tips of your fingers. Then, with far too much gentleness for someone trying to wake a person, you snake your hand around the back of his neck and into his hair. “Min,” you call gently as your fingers caress his scalp. “Minho.”

You watch his brows furrow as he stirs. Then his eyes flutter open. His lashes were visible even in the dim light. As you watch them flutter you’re reminded of a morning you’d awoken to find him half draped over you, his face buried in your neck. As his eyes had blinked open only minutes later, you’d felt them—his lashes tickling your neck like the fluttering wings of a butterfly.

“Mm?” he hums now, still blinking himself awake.

“I love you.”

He frowns, then grumbles something under his breath before rolling over away from you. You suspect he doesn’t understand how you mean it, that you don’t mean it exactly the way you always do. Another tactic then.

“Do you think about me in the shower?”

You feel the bed dip a little, Chris moving behind you. A tiny muffled noise follows. He was laughing into your pillow.

Minho is still.

You attempt to repeat yourself, “I said do you—”

“I heard,” Minho says, still facing away from you. His voice is rough from sleep. “What is he doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” the man in question answers from behind you. “Was kept awake by thoughts of bending our girl over the kitchen counter.”

Our girl. Our girl. Our—

Minho sits up. So quickly it startles you.

“Are you gonna answer her question?” Chris prods.

Minho rubs at his eyes as he turns to face you. You sit up, partly just so you can reach up and smooth down a tuft of stubborn hair that sticks out from his temple. He licks his lips. “What’s happening?” he mumbles.

“I love you,” you repeat. He looks at you now, in that way that clearly betrays the cogs are turning. You press your lips together in poorly suppressed fondness as he processes.

“You… love me?” he says finally.

You press a kiss to his cheek in answer, an innocent peck.

“Answer the question,” Chris says from his reclined position on your pillows, clearly enjoying the show. You don’t turn to him, but you can picture the grin on his face clear as day.

Minho blinks. You decide to help him a little, “In the shower?”

His eyes drop, breaking eye contact.

“I have too,” you offer. “I’ve thought about you.” His eyes are back on yours. You’re half tempted to call a pause so you can flick a light on. The darkness is stealing the depth of his brown eyes from you. “I only ever think about either of you—both of you sometimes. I felt a little guilty… I-I didn’t want you to—”

“Both… of us?” he interrupts.

You can only nod. What do you say to that?

Then he’s looking over your shoulder, engaging in a silent exchange with Chris. They did this often. You wonder if they’re able to communicate without words because they were merely remembering conversations they had when you weren’t around. Had they had a conversation about you? About this?

An arm snakes around your waist. Chris drops a soft kiss to your neck, pressing himself so close behind you you’re practically enveloped by him. Safe. Minho reaches towards you, it’s hesitant and you hold your breath as his fingers brush your cheek. Don’t startle him.

“Me more though, mm?” he asks with a small tilt of his head and a lopsided smirk.

Chris rocks you to the side a little as he laughs, detaching Minho’s palm from your cheek. That’s the way he was: Minho. Layers of wit and charm blanketing a soft interior. You don’t give me a chance to retreat any further, falling forward out of Chris’ arms and forcing Minho to catch you in his own. He helps you settle in his lap, lifting you a little as you rearrange your limbs.

“This doesn’t mean I wanna share with anyone else,” you start as you brush the hair from his face. “Just us, yeah?”

He nods. His eyes flick over your shoulder and then drop to your lips. “Just us,” he agrees. Then his lips are brushing yours, teasing just like his words so often are. You pull him to you properly by the back of his neck, his grown out hair offering you plenty of leverage to hold him where you need. He lets you take from him, lets you guide him. Teasing… and then giving. That’s the way he was.

Chris settles himself behind you. He litters your neck with kisses as you squirm a little in Minho’s lap, attempting to have more, more, more. Your arms are practically wrapped around his head as you lift a little on your knees, grasping at his hair until Chris is pulling you off him. You take in the way you’ve left Minho as you’re tugged back against the other man. His hair is a mess, lips wet and slightly parted as he catches his breath. You’re tempted to reach out and grab at him like a baby reaching for candy.

But then you’re distracted, tipped onto your side and pulled tight against a solid torso. “There’s no rush,” Chris says with a breathy laugh. “He’s not leaving.” You meet Minho’s eyes as Chris returns his thumb to your mouth. “There you go,” he encourages. “Good girl.”

Your breathing settles back into a normal rhythm. He was right. You’d been frantic, desperate. If you rush it’d be over—the last thing you want. You can’t help rolling your hips a little though, not when Minho is looking at you the way he is, watching as you suckle on Chris’ thumb. They were yours. Take your time.

You reach for Chris’ wrist, wrapping your fingers around it as Minho lays his head on his pillow. Chris rolls his hips into you as you pull his finger from your mouth, slowly, right to the tip. He presses his finger back in before you have a chance to do it yourself. You tug him free of your lips. “I thought there was no rush?” you whisper.

His lips ghost over your earlobe as he speaks, “Am I being greedy?”

“You stole her,” Minho answers before you can.

“I saved you,” Chris argues before pressing his lips behind your ear. “She was devouring you.”

“Maybe I wanted to be devoured.”

You reach for Minho’s hand and bring his finger to your lips, pressing a kiss to his fingertip. Chris resumes his grinding as you slip Minho’s finger into your mouth. Devour. It feels like an appropriate description as you lay there sucking on his finger with Chris leaving messy kisses at your neck. “What would you like?” he mutters between kisses. “Tell me what you want.”

It’s a loaded question. You decide to answer as simply as you can, distracted by the way Minho watches you suck on his finger. He licks his lips as you pull him from your mouth. “Fuck me like this. Just like this. Surrounding me.”

“Surrounding you?” Chan questions, his hand at your stomach holding you firm against him.

“Mm. Feels safe.. I-I like being between you.”

He presses his face into the hair behind your ear. “You’re safe, baby.” His hand slips into the waistband of your shorts. “Always.”

Minho shuffles a little closer to you, close enough that he can replace his finger with his lips. You go practically limp as they each prepare you—Chris with his fingers playing with your cunt, and Minho with his tongue in your mouth and his hand up your shirt. Surrounded. It’s so easy to lose yourself like this, to roll your hips and grasp at Minho’s hair, to forget about any shame as you let small whimpers escape into his mouth. Chris is playing, it’s the perfect word to describe the way his fingers prod and swipe at your cunt. He must feel how you drip for him, how his fingers slip easily through your folds, but you’re alone with the desperate pulse—the emptiness that begs to be filled with a dull throb.

Minho makes a small noise as you tug a little too hard at his hair. He squeezes your breast in his hand as punishment, his palm warm and perfectly sized to hold you. “Are you getting desperate again?” Chris mumbles into your neck. “Be gentle with him, baby.”

You whimper a little, nipping at Minho’s lip in defiance. He pulls back a little and a flood of anxiety floods into your chest at the thought he might be leaving, that you’d pushed it too far. But then he’s shuffling down the bed and lifting your shirt up, tugging the fabric up above your tits. He stays there, his breath warm against your nipples as his fingers trace patterns across your skin.

“Listen,” Chris whispers. His fingers speed up without warning, strumming at your entrance—too low to brush your clit. His goal is clear when the wet sounds of your slick fill the room, his fingers stopping their rapid strumming to prod at your hole every few seconds. You should be embarrassed, you would be in any other situation. But not here. Not with them.

You feel Minho’s whispered, “Fuck.” His breath is hot before he latches onto your breast. It’s a wonderful distraction as your shorts and underwear are tugged down your legs and discarded, as Chris aligns himself behind you and slips his cock between your legs. The tip brushes your click as he grinds into you like this. Minho’s head is perfectly placed to entangle your fingers in his hair and hold him to your chest as he continues sucking at you.

It should be overwhelming. It’s all new and so much, so, so much. But it isn’t. You’re home. You’re surrounded. You’re with them. You practically float as you’re pressed between them, as they consume you.

You’re grateful Minho insists on sleeping with the air conditioning going, now more than ever. Heat surrounds you. Minho’s hot mouth at your breast. Chris’ cock hot between your legs and his warm chest pressed to your back. Heat.

“Do you want me now?” Chan says, voice a little strained. His cock nudges your entrance, tip prodding and retreating over and over. “You want me to fuck you into Minho, hm?”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes.”

His teeth graze your skin as he pushes in, the ghost of a bite—followed by a low moan. You cling to Minho as you’re filled, holding him to your chest as his tongue laves at you—devouring.

You squeak as Chris pulls out and fucks back in suddenly, shoving you slightly up the bed. Minho makes a small sound before reattaching himself, determined not to be disturbed. Chris is a little gentler after that, deep and slow rolls of his hips that have you pressing into Minho each time. Eventually he detaches from you and moves up the bed. You expect him to kiss you. Instead he keeps just fair enough away that you can’t lean forward and capture his lips. He watches your face, traces his eyes across your features as Chris fucks you from behind.

You should feel exposed. But you don’t. You always liked when his eyes were on you. He reaches to lift some hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear as Chris fucks into you. Then he leans in, so close his lips brush yours. Each thrust of Chris’ hips bring you tantalisingly close to joining. Teasing and giving, that was Minho. You wait for him to give. It only takes a minute or so longer. Then he’s pressing right up against you, practically crushing you between their two bodies as he bites into your shoulder.

You cum with Chris’ fingers on your clit and Minho’s teeth on your neck.

“Do you want my cum?” Chris groans. “I’ll make you all messy for him. Do you want that? He can fuck it back inside you for me.”

All you can do is nod, a weak noise accompanying it. Minho’s lips are on yours a second later, wet and messy as you let him take what he needs. He swallows the whimper you release as Chris shoves into you one last time and releases inside you. You’re surrounded by heat, pressed between them tightly.

Chris grinds into you again for a moment, panting into your neck as you lay full of him. “Love you,” he murmurs finally.

Minho leaves a peck at the corner of your mouth. “Okay?” he asks. Your fingers massage his scalp a little as you hum in response.

“Need you though.”

“Now?”

“Mm. Now… in the morning… tomorrow night too.”

He smiles, lopsided and satisfied. “Why?”

“Love you.”

He drapes a leg over you as Chris slips from behind you and disappears into the bathroom. “Sorry?” Minho questions with a smirk. “Couldn’t hear you.”

You tug at his hair. “Don’t be a brat.”

He rolls you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress. “I do think about you,” he says, voice taking on a softer tone. He switched like that often, letting his walls down without warning. “Not just… not just in the shower. I think about you when I’m at work… when something happens and I’m stressed or—” he pauses, lowering himself onto his elbows. “I think about you a lot.”

“About fucking me?”

His nose scrunches as he drops his eyes. “Not just that. Just… in lots of ways.”

“I love you too.”

He drops his face to your neck as Chris reenters the room. You roll Minho back onto his side, allowing Chris to resume his position behind you—how you liked it.

It’s a little slower when Minho presses his body to yours and fills you. Less frenzied than Chris had been. He grinds his cock deep, pressing you into Chris’ chest. You silently curse the years you’d spent in your own bed, all the nights you could have been pressed between them like this. It was only out of ignorance that you’d endured it. If you’d known how it felt to be sandwiched between them, to be full of one’s cum as the other fucks it deep inside—

“How does she feel?” Chris asks as his fingers wrap around your throat, a gentle cradle.

Minho groans in response, reaching to your hip to give him leverage as he sheathes himself right to the hilt. You forget to breathe as he speaks, “Hot… Hot and dripping, fucking sloppy.” Your breath is forced back into your lungs as he suddenly pulls out and fucks back in. “Listen.” He jostles you into Chris as he speeds up, filling the room with the wet sound of his cock fucking the cum into your already wet cunt. He was shy. He was your shy best friend and he was demonstrating how wet you were to the man pressed to your back.

You latch onto his neck, forcing him to slow as you press your teeth into his skin. His hips stutter a little before he resumes, a scattered pattern much less controlled than the one he’d started with. You lick at the bite mark when you’re done. “You’re so good,” you whisper. “You’re mine.”

When he cums it’s with a gasp of your name. You imagine it’s how he sounded in the shower, how he’d sounded all the times he’d thought of you. Had he ever thought of you like that a few hours before you’d crept into his bed to seek comfort.

Chris reaches over you as Minho catches his breath. “Let me feel,” he whispers before his fingers are on you, playing with your dripping entrance and strumming at your clit until you cum with his hand around your throat.

7K notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 3 months

Note

law for kissing booth please 👉👈

(or shachi if he's already got a ton of requests, or if your heart feels this would be a better read, dealer's choice!<3)

The Kissing Booth - Law for Bby-Deerling

Word Count: 1,400+ (They are meant to be drabble length, I got carried away)

Notes: This was the first request for Law in the kissing booth, and I seriously hope I have done your boy some justice. It was meant to be a little drabble, but I wanted to capture a little bit of longing in there for him. Come get a kiss from your main man, Deerling!

Sitting patiently on your wooden stool, you heard several strings of barked laughter off ahead. Lulling your head to the side, you furrow your brows in an attempt to pick up on the hushed conversation between them. Loud cackles, soft chuckles and jokes both crude in nature, and quite hilarious prompted you to giggle along with them.

“It’s two per ride for the ferris wheel,” a more feminine voice chirped out enthusiastically, “What do you say, Bepo? Want to join me for a loop?” A joyful yell of glee sounded more akin to an emphatic roar joined the chorus, along with two other voices arguing alongside.

“Oi, no fair, Ikkaku!” a nasally voice called out, followed by a deeper baritone thereafter of, “Yeah, that means one of us will have to sit out!” More arguing insured, a soft, kind voice interrupting and saying: “I’m happy to miss out, Ikkaku. I’m likely a bit too big to ride, anyway.”

You tried to drown out the arguing, softly tapping your knees and focussing on the different sounds, smells and the soft feeling of warm wind falling against your skin from the ocean shore. The blindfold was a strange comfort to you, the warmth of the silky material feeling at home over your eyes and almost welcome the longer you wore it.

“No, Bepo. You go on ahead. I’ll sit out this round,” another gruff voice spoke lower, and far more even-toned informed them. No further arguments occurred, the sound of laughter and gratitude flew away from your vacinity.

Softly angling your face away from the booth, you drew your hands up to begin toying with the edged hem of the eye shield against your face, adjusting it so the material lay flush with your skin as to remain more comfortable beneath the shroud. You shook your head, adjusting your hair before sitting upright and waiting for your next guest to approach the booth.

As if on queue, a soft rustle of paper pressed itself into the jar beside you as the guest presented their Berry offering to your humble booth. You smiled inquisitively, turning towards where you suspected the guest was to be.

“This seat taken?” The deep voice from earlier asked you politely, “I just need to sit down for a bit, and all the other seats around seem to be otherwise occupied.” You nod with an empathetic smile, gesturing to the general vicinity to where the wooden stool was placed in front of you.

“It's all yours. I noticed a bit of a lull in the crowd, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” you shrugged, relaxing into your chair and enjoying the laughter from the various rides and booths surrounding.

Music began to play on the grand stage, soft finger plucking of a familiar melody painted the air with its mastery. A vocalist, bassist and drummer joined in on the chorus, singing their hearts out to create melodies and harmonies within the grounds. Both of you sitting in front of one another seemed to both have a similar idea, humming along to the tune and both smiling at one another when you caught the other singing.

“You been here long?” the guest asked you after the song concluded, prompting you to think about the duration of your volunteering position in the booth.

“You know, I’m not entirely sure,” you laugh through your nose as your smile turns shy, “As soon as the blindfold went on, it’s like everything became too long and too little all at once.” You offer him a slight shrug, turning away and listening to the drums begin to click in the next tune.

“I hear that. That’s how most of my time ends up nowadays, sans blindfold of course,” he offered you the same dry laugh through his nose, causing your attention to fall back to him. “My crew, they just know how to test me sometimes. Doesn’t mean I love them any less.” You nod attentively to his confession, reaching forward and gesturing for him to take your hand.

“Aren’t friends marvelous?” you giggle at him, squeezing his hand once he placed his within your grip, “That’s how I came into volunteering for this mess: friendship. The things we do for the people we love.” He returned your gesture, almost apprehensive in the way he squeezed your hand in turn.

“Speaking of, they're likely to return back in a moment,” he uttered in a voice just above a whisper, “So, do you mind if I…?” You lulled your head to the side and smiled at him curiously.

“If you…?” you asked in return, gasping in a shocked breath as you felt cool fingertips brush your hair away from your face, prompting you to gasp out a soft, "Oh!" You felt his lips hovering over yours, his breath meeting with your skin and the temperature of his face elevating your own to flush your cheeks with.

“I thought,” his lips whispered and caressed your skin with a gentleness you didn't anticipate, “Since I'm already here, you know?” His lips tingled against yours, the tangible heat falling from them the closer he inched forward. He hesitated, holding his face an eyelash’s width away from your lips, “If that's okay with you, I mean.”

Nodding gently, you lean forward and close the final distance between you, and claim his lips beneath yours in a soft kiss. Wasting no time, your guest cards his fingers over your scalp and draws your face closer to his to deepen the embrace you're sharing together.

He releases your hand and raises it to join his other hand in cradling your face while arching into you. You feel his toned chest pressed against your own, knees slotting together like pieces of a puzzle in perfect synchrony. Angling his chin, he softly parts his lips and deepens the embrace, humming against your mouth and claiming more of you into him.

Your hands find purchase on his thighs before raking up his legs to rest on his hips, slowly mapping his skin and committing each ridge and divot to memory. You feel your chin meet with the subtle scruff of facial hair, the coarse strands scraping against your face and tickling your skin beneath it.

Tilting your face, you both begin to mouth at each other and turn and tilt your heads to match each other's intensite energy. Passion begins to simmer in your chest each moment that passes between you. His hands move to grasp the scruff of your neck, holding you stationary as he allows himself the luxury of taking complete control and dominating the kiss.

His tongue darts from between his lips, caressing and tingling against your skin before you welcome him into the kiss by grinding your own against his. Just as you begin to deepen the motion, you're both brought out of your trance by whistles and hollars echoing around your booth.

“Wooh, get ‘em, Cap’n!” the nasally voice cackled from earlier, the baritone counterpart joining in with, “Use your tongue! More tongue!” Several whistles reverberated around you, prompting your guest to freeze against your lips.

Smiling, you press a final kiss against him to seal the embrace with a finality before fully pulling away from him.

“Sorry ‘bout them,” he grunted sheepishly, his close proximity causing you to feel the flush radiating from his features against your hands and face. “My crew… they're a lot.”

“Ah, the earlier sentiment returns,” you chuckle warmly, “Aren't friends marvelous.” He joins your chuckle, softly releasing you from his embrace and caressing your cheek beneath his palm.

“Thank you for your company,” he uttered softly, “I appreciate your conversation, and-... and the other thing. It's been a while since I've-... You know?” You fill in the blanks mentally and offer him a soft, polite nod in affirmation.

“Thank you for offering me company at my booth,” you smile up at him, releasing your hands from their position on his hips. He lingers on the stool for a moment longer before getting up with an exasperated sigh.

“Alright, let's go,” he gruffly ordered, the troop behind him grunting out a soft, “Aye, sir,” in response. You wave to him, not truly aware if he was paying attention to you or not, but offering him an extension of your politeness regardless.

Law was paying attention, trying to catch his breath and extinguish his growing fluster tinting his cheeks. He was truly moved by your kindness, your conversation, and the way you so easily matched his energy with each motion. He was hoping to catch you at the end of the festival, but hoping to not seem overeager to earn more teasing from his subordinates.

Only time will tell if you were open to seeing him again, but he truly hoped you would.

#one piece #x reader #ask snail #snail answers #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #traffy x reader #trafalgar law x reader #op law #kissing booth event #follower milestone #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #kissing

408 notes · View notes

elencr · 2 years

Text

ₓ ˚ . ୭ ˚ ○ ◦ ˚ ― ㅤ‘ BILLIE EILISH. ’ | ACCEPTING !

❛ i haven't slept since sunday . ❜

* . ♡ there’s a soft but subtle smile that crosses her lips. ellie was used to hearing everything since opening her little bakery. there is just something cathartic about telling a stranger about your problems. maybe it was because you didn’t know them , that there was no worry of being judged too badly. placing the plate down in front of @ruinsfound , a freshly made banana and chocolate chip muffin sat in the middle , butter on the side. ellie rests her hands on her hips. “ i know how you feel. ” the brunette spoke. “ i feel like i haven’t slept at all this year already. ” there’s a huff of a laugh. “ did you want a coffee ? ”

#ruinsfound #| * you've reached the voicemail of elenore. answered.#dc verse pending.#| * just wait a little longer. queue.

2 notes · View notes

megxplryxb · 6 months

Text

Romance is Dead, Isn't it?

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Notes: Sweet and fluffy, little bit of angst. Based around Valentine’s Day because I’ve had this is in my drafts for a minute.

The smell of cheap, overused aftershave and five dollar bouquets, currently lingered throughout the aisles of Family Video. Loved up couples filling the store, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings and pressing kisses to their lovers blushing cheek as they scanned the shelves of the romance section.

Love heart decorations hung from the ceiling, pink foil curtains draped over the entrance and Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time blared from the speakers while you completed sellotaping the balloons you’d only finished inflating ten minutes ago. You weren't exactly sure why Keith was making Valentine's Day such an extravaganza this year but you were absolutely hating every second of it.

February fourteenth had never been kind to you. Not when you were ten years old and the card you thought had been from your childhood crush was actually written by your Mom. Not when you were fifteen and you went to the movies with Jackson Taylor, who made up a rumour that he had gotten to second base with you and definitely not last year, when Derek Cooper had taken you out for dinner, only to be caught by his girlfriend that he had surprisingly forgotten to mention.

Yeah, Valentine's Day could suck it.

“If one more person asks if we have another copy of Sixteeen Candles, I swear, I won't be held responsible for my actions.” You warn, jumping down from the step ladder with a loud huff.

“Yikes, what’s gotten your panties in a bunch today babe?” Robin questions with a teasing smile on her face as she serves the next customer.

“My panties are not in a bunch thank you very much. I'm just saying, what kind of moron waits until Valentines Day to rent the most sought after romcom?" You ask, taking a gulp of water in an attempt to erase the taste of rubber from your mouth.

Fake laughter echoes from the other side of the store where some girl has been flirting with Steve for the past fifteen minutes. You'd noticed her outside before she walked in, glossing her lips and pushing her boobs up just enough to get the attention she was obviously desperate for. She's annoyingly pretty, with perfect hair and sun kissed skin and when she raises her well manicured hands to rest on his bicep, you can’t help but grit your teeth at them.

"Is he planning to do any work at all today?" You point, rolling your eyes as Robin looks over at her other best friend and then back to you with a frown. She can sense the irritation in your voice and she knows why, even if you would never admit it. The signs have been there for quite some time and she wonders how much longer you can keep up the charade of not having feelings for Steve Harrington.

"Hey Dingus! A little help over here?" Robin demands, directing him to the queue of customers waiting for assistance at the counter. Steve nods his head, apologising to the girl who makes sure to write her number on his arm before waving goodbye.

“Yeah, thanks for calling me over, I've been trying to get away from her for like, the last ten minutes.” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, gesturing for the next customer to approach.

“Yeah, you really looked like you were being held against your will there, Harrington.” You scoff bitterly, stacking up a pile of returned tapes.

“Seriously, did you guys not see me trying to signal for help when she started touching me? I mean come on, desperate much?" He jeers, shaking his head.

"She did seem disgustingly eager." Robin interjects, scrunching her nose.

"Since when has that ever stopped him?" You reply, motioning towards Steve, who seems a little bit offended by your words.

"Jesus, why does it look like Cupid came all over this place?" Eddie chuckles as he enters the store, getting his jacket caught in the foil curtain, almost ripping it off of the door.

“Hey, careful Munson, don’t mess up my masterpiece!” You warn, carrying the tapes into the back as he slowly untangles himself.

"Because dear Edward, it is the day of love and romance!” Robin squeals excitedly, clapping her hands.

“Can you tell she has a date with Vickie tonight?” You tease, her cheeks turning pink at the mention of her new girlfriend.

“Alright, way to go Buckley.” Eddie high-fives the girl who couldn’t contain her happiness.

“We’re just going to the movies but I’m so nervous! Like, what if I make a total doofus of myself around her? She might not be as accepting of my clumsiness as you guys. I could fall up the steps when we’re walking to our seats or choke on the popcorn or…”

“Robin relax, you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.” Steve interrupts, hearing the conversation from the till. His eyes meet yours, both of you sharing a disapproving look at your friend’s lack of confidence in herself. It was something you often discussed between yourselves, trying to figure out ways to help her see just how great she really was. Robin had always been good at hyping other people up, telling them how awesome or pretty they were but it was a completely different story when it came to herself.

“Steve’s right, you need to chill out. Vickie’s already heard you doing god awful karaoke, not to mention witnessing you hurl all over the bathroom floor at the Hideout and she’s still drooling over you. The girl is putty in your pretty little hands.” You jokingly reassure with a smile and it seems your light hearted words put her somewhat at ease as she takes a relieved breath.

“Hey, do you guys have a copy of that new movie with Molly Ringwald? Sixteen something?” Eddie shouts from the romance section of the store earning a scowl from you.

“Shit out of luck Munson, we’re totally sold out.” Steve replies, the curly haired metal head letting out a dramatic groan as he walked back to the counter, causing some of the other customers to flinch.

“Didn’t take you for a romcom kinda guy Eds.” You mock as he gives you a toothy grin. “Sweetheart, if it helps me get laid by the end of the night, I’ll watch anything.”

“Ew, gross Eddie, I really don’t need visions of you and Chrissy getting it on.” Robin shivers in disgust.

Although you share the same sentiment as your best friend, you can't help but think how nice it is that Eddie finally found someone that truly loves him for who he is. You couldn't remember ever seeing him so happy and a little part of you was jealous that you didn't have that with someone too.

"Harrington, did you get a tat dude?" Eddie quizzes, pointing to the digits on Steve's arm. You're taken out of your thoughts upon hearing the question directed at your coworker. Steve's eyes fall to you for a brief moment but you busy yourself with some paperwork, trying your best to pretend you're not paying attention to them.

"Oh, um no man, just a customer earlier, gave me her number." Steve brushes off with a shrug.

"Sweet, you gonna call her?" The hellfire leader interrupts and you hate yourself for wanting to know the answer too.

"God no, she was way too forward." Steve says, shaking his head, hoping that would be the end of the conversation as you relax again.

"What's wrong with forward? Come on man, it's Valentine's Day, call her, ask her out." Eddie encourages, wondering why Robin was shooting him a killer look as Steve shifts uncomfortably.

"Actually, I kind of already have a date tonight." He states, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The relief you felt moments ago, quickly vanishing, being replaced with a gut wrenching feeling in the pit of your stomach. Steve had someone and it wasn't you. It would never be you.

“You do? Since when, why wasn’t I informed about this?” Robin quizzes suspiciously.

“I don’t have to tell you everything, Robin.” He huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Do we know her?” Eddie smirks and you wish you were anywhere else right now.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.” He answers coyly before serving the next customer.

“So what about you sweetheart, who’s the lucky guy that’s taking you out tonight?” The metal head grins, raising his brows suggestively.

You see Steve and Robin turning their heads, attention on you as Eddie waits for your response. For a moment you consider lying, trying to think of a name and a place just to save face on being the only one without a date for tonight and maybe a little part of you wanted to see what Steve’s reaction would be too. But Robin already knew you had no plans, she had probably already told Steve the same.

“There isn’t one.” You answer, looking down at the ground, wanting it to swallow you whole.

“Bullshit, every time I’m in here there’s a guy asking you out.” Eddie spits, frowning at your response.

He’s right, guys do ask you out. It’s not like you were some sort of prude who never had a sex or never went on dates but lately, you just hadn’t been feeling it. Not when your heart belonged to someone who didn’t even know they had it and until you could get over Steve Harrington, it wouldn’t be fair to start something with someone else.

“Yeah, just not the one I actually want.” You reply, refusing to look Steve’s way as you walk to the back.

You figure now is a good time to take you break, needing a moment away from your friends to regain your composure. The restroom door locking behind you as you drop to the floor, tucking your knees into your chest. How had you gotten here? How had you been so stupid to fall for your friend? How had you allowed this to happen?

You secretly wondered who Steve’s date could be, knowing there was a number of viable contenders. Was it the brunette from last week who asked him to explain how The Lost Boys wasn’t a Peter Pan spin off or the blonde that always laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t even funny. Or maybe it was the raven haired girl who openly discussed her recent porno rentals with him every week.

One thing you knew for sure, it certainly wasn’t you.

The sound of footsteps brings you back to your shitty reality and the sudden knock on the bathroom door has you standing on your feet again.

“Hey, it’s just me. Are you ok?” You hear Robin ask from the other side. You straighten yourself up, wiping your clothes down before unlocking the door to face your friend.

“Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You question, doing your best to give her a reassuring smile but she sees right through you.

“I honestly didn’t know dingus had a date, I would have told you if I did.” She mutters nervously as you shake your head.

“Why? It’s not like I care what he does.” You state as Robin gives you an unconvinced glance.

“Babe, it’s me you’re talking to right now, no one else. You forget I used to be the master at hiding my feelings, so I know all the signs. You’re totally crazy about him aren’t you?” She quizzes, as you shrug your shoulders. There was no point in hiding it from her anymore, she could read you like a book.

“I’ll get over it.”

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” She suggests as you let out a bitter laugh. “Did you not just hear what he said out there? He has a date, Robin.”

“Yeah but maybe if—”

“No. I’m not telling him alright? So please, just drop it.” You beg, letting out a deflated sigh.

Robin decides not to push you any further, realising you didn’t want to talk about it right now but you know this won’t be the end of it and eventually you’d have to answer the many questions you were sure she was going to have, taking a mental note to purchase alcohol before you talked about your feelings for Steve with her. But for now, you were grateful that she was leaving well enough alone so you could get back to work and pretend that everything was fine.

The remaining hours went by painfully slow, the romance section almost bare and you were counting down the minutes before you could go home to your bed and shut out the world while you waited for this shitty day to be over. Once the store got a little quieter, Steve offered to man the counter while you did Robin’s make up in the back, helping her get ready for the long awaited date before her girlfriend picked her up.

By 7:45, you were left with Steve and Keith who had been in his office doing paper work since he ordered you to decorate the store earlier. Steve had noticed you were quieter than usual, trying his best to joke and make light conversation but all he was met with was one worded answers.

“It was really cool of you to do Robin’s make up, y’know?” You hear Steve mumble as you restock the confectionery stand.

“That’s what best friends are for, right?”

“Yeah of course but you saw how nervous she was all day and I think you helping her out by making her look all pretty and stuff, just gave her the confidence boost she needed for tonight. I just thought it was really sweet of you.” He compliments, a warm look on his face that has your frosty demeanour melting.

“Alright, I’m done for the day. You two ok to lock up?” Keith asks, dousing himself in cheap cologne as Steve shoots his boss a glare knowing it was his night to close.

“No, not really. I have a date.” Steve argues as Keith grunts unsympatheticly. “You’re not the only one lover boy.”

“Online chat rooms don’t count, Keith.” Steve fires back as you try not to laugh at the expression on your boss’s face.

“You want to be out of a job, Harrington?” Keith threatens, looking less than impressed.

“No, but I really need to—”

“That settles it then, you two will lock up. Happy Valentines Day.” He smirks, throwing Steve a set of keys before exiting the store.

“What an asshole!” Steve groans, throwing the keys on the counter, putting an irritated hand through his signature hair while his plans hang in the balance.

“Now I get why he wanted me to decorate so badly.” You mutter, thinking back to how you spent the first couple of hours of your shift, blowing up balloons and getting sticky tape stuck in your hair. Keith was loved up like the rest of your friends. Cupid had gotten another one.

“Do you actually believe he has a date?” Steve asks, frustration still apparent in his voice as you nod your head, groaning.

“As much as it pains me to say yes, given that I myself don’t actually have a date, when have you ever seen him put on cologne?” You question as Steve lets out a heavy sigh.

“Good point. I hope she stands the son of a bitch up though.” He grins playfully and you can’t help but smile back at him. He was so breathtakingly beautiful and you kind of hated him for it.

“Hey, look at that, I finally got a smile out of you.” He teases, poking at your cheek as you lightly push his hand away.

“Steve, quit it.” You giggle as he shakes his head.

“Not a chance, you’re just so pretty when you smile.” He admits, cupping your face momentarily, locking his eyes with your own and your breath hitches as his warm hand rests on your face, his thumb carefully caressing your cheek and you hope to god you’re not blushing right now. Your eyes wander to his lips, pink and plump and a little chapped from the cold weather Hawkins was currently experiencing and you couldn’t help but wonder what lucky girl would get to kiss them later on.

For a moment as Steve gazed at you, you considered telling him everything. How you’ve been crazy about him since you worked at Scoops Ahoy together, falling hard for him when you saw how kind he was to the kids he watched over, knowing he wasn’t the same selfish guy you’d known in high school. Steve Harrington was selfless, brave and caring and as you looked into his caramel coloured eyes, all you wanted for him was to be happy because that’s what he deserved more than anything, even if it would never be with you.

“Steve…”

“Yeah?” He whispers, looking at you in a way that made your knees weak.

You knew this was your chance to tell him, the perfect night to admit your feelings but previous Valentine’s Day disasters prevented you from saying what you really wanted to, afraid Steve would have to let you down gently or worse, laugh in your face.

“You should go home and get ready for your date, I’ll lock up here.” You swallow hard as he finally removes his hand from your face, seemingly taking him out of his own thoughts.

“Oh, no I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He replies, shaking his head.

“You didn’t ask me, I offered.” You reassure, feeling guilty for how you had treated him all day.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t. The place is quiet now anyway and there’s only an hour left. Plus I’ve been looking forward to destroying all those damn decorations all day.” You joke, attempting to hide the sadness you were currently feeling from him, terrified that you’d break down in tears if he stuck around much longer.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He grins as you playfully roll your eyes at him. “So I’ve been told.”

“Got any advice for a successful Valentine’s date?” He questions, grabbing his car keys as you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“You’re really not asking the right person. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good Valentine’s experience. Why are you so nervous anyway, you’ve been on hundreds of dates?”

“Yeah I know, but I really like this girl, like a lot. More than I’ve ever liked anybody and I really don’t want to mess this up.” He sighs and you wonder if he can hear your heart smashing into pieces.

“Wow, she must be really special.” You breathe as he nods his head looking like a schoolboy with a crush.

“Yeah, she is.” He admits and it’s like a fresh bullet to your chest.

“Well then I hope she knows how lucky she is. Any girl who can’t see what an amazing guy you are would have to be a complete idiot.” You reply honestly, almost certain you see a hint of pink in his cheeks.

“Thanks, honey.” He whispers, before walking towards the exit, the nickname causing your brain to short circuit. Honey.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, walking out the door as you feel a tear slide down your cheek watching his car pull out of the space, taking your broken heart right along with him. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, cursing under your breath, pondering if you were really doomed to face every February fourteenth in utter misery.

The last hour of your shift had gone by quicker than expected, having no customers during the final thirty minutes, giving you plenty of time to dispose of the shitty decorations that had mocked you throughout the day. When you finished vacuuming the floor, you wondered how your friends were fairing on their dates. Had Eddie gotten through a rom com without passing out? Did Robin make it up the steps of the movie theatre without falling? Was Keith really on a date with an actual woman? Had Steve already managed to get his new girl into bed?

That last thought made you want to throw up.

At 8:50 you decided to call it a night, dreaming of your warm bed and the cheese pizza you were going to order the minute you got home, wanting nothing more than to wallow in self pity. The money had been cashed up, the shelves were organised and you figured you had earned the extra ten minutes after everything you had endured today. Once you grabbed your handbag and jacket from your locker, you did a final check of the place before clocking out, switching the open sign to closed before you shut the door behind you, turning the key in the lock and pulling the shutters down, thankful you were off for the next couple of days.

As you tossed the keys into your bag, pulling on your jacket to prepare for the short walk to your apartment, you noticed a familiar maroon BMW parked up and Steve Harrington leaning against the hood, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Steve?”

“Hey you.” He smiles, eyes sparkling in the glow of the moonlight.

“Is everything ok?” You worry, wondering if something had happened to one of the kids or your older friends.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Steve reassures as you let out a sigh of relief.

“Well for starters, aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” You quiz, confusion apparent in your tone.

“I was just waiting for her to get off work actually, I’m picking her up here.” He smirks confidently, pushing himself off of the hood.

“You’re meeting her in the Family Video parking lot? Isn’t that a bit creepy?” You tease, raising a brow at him, trying not to focus on how good he looks in a grey sweater that you’ve never seen on him before.

“Well yeah, I guess it would be a little creepy if she didn’t work there.” He jokes, hoping he’d given you enough clues to figure out the rest for yourself. When your eyes begin to widen, mouth parting as you try to speak, he knows the penny has finally dropped.

“Steve I—”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, repeating the same words he'd said earlier, handing you the prettiest bunch of daisies you’ve ever seen and it’s not until his fingers brush yours that you realise it isn’t a dream. Steve Harrington was here, waiting for you.

“These are for me?” You ask, breath catching in your throat.

“Of course they are, who else would I get them for?” He teases as you try to hold back tears.

"Steve, I…I can’t believe you got me daisies. they’re so beautiful.” You smile, suddenly feeling very dizzy.

“I know I probably should have gotten you roses but I know you hate all that traditional valentines stuff and last summer when we took the kids to the park and you made Max and El daisy chains, you said they were your favourite.”

“You remember that?” You blush looking up at him as he nods. “I remember everything about you, honey.”

Your stomach is doing somersaults now, palms sweaty and shaking with the way he’s looking at you and it takes everything in you not to kiss him silly.

“Did Robin know about this?” You quiz, wondering if you were going to have to murder your friend tomorrow for letting you go through a shift thinking Steve was going on a date with someone else.

“Are you serious? You know she can’t keep secrets. I couldn’t take the risk that she wouldn’t telll you. Plus, I was afraid she’d never let me live it down if you rejected me.” Steve jokes, flashing his pearly whites at you. How could you ever reject him?

“I don’t understand, if Robin didn’t tell you, how did you know I had feelings for you?”

“Not to sound totally arrogant but I’m not completely stupid. I see how flustered you get around me sometimes and how jealous you get when a customer tries to flirt with me, like today. But mostly I’ve seen the way you look at me and then I knew for sure—cause it’s the same way I look at you.” He whispers, his warm hand cupping your cheek.

“And how exactly do you look at me?” You challenge, swallowing hard as his lips inch closer to yours.

“Like I’m totally crazy about you.”

#steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #king steve #steve harrington imagine #steve the hair harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #djotime #djo #joe keery #gator tillman #kurt kunkle

730 notes · View notes

saistappen · 4 months

Text

Helpful friend | LN

Warnings — alcohol

In which you just wanted to help lando

In which rules are suddelny broken

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

The bass was literally pounding in my ears, while the floor beneath my feet seemed to vibrate more with every step I took.

The lights were dimmed and every now and then a few colorful lights flashed on for a few seconds. It smelled of sweat and alcohol.

Sweaty bodies rubbed against each other so that there was barely room to squeeze past.

My mood slowly hit rock bottom as I tried to get away with saying 'May I? ' which left my mouth in a continuous loop, squeezed past the dancing crowd.

Tonight should actually have been a good night. I was in a club in London with Lando, Aarav, Ria, Niran and Max Fewtrell.

Lando and I had been back in London for a while, where we had bumped into the part of Team Quardrant that we didn't get to see very often.

We had spent the whole afternoon filming a few challenges for the YouTube channel.

Afterwards, we had been driven here to the club, where we wanted to party a little, just like old times.

Everything had gone well at first, until a stranger spilled the contents of his sticky drink on my lap and I had to queue in the long line to the loo for about 45 minutes until I could somehow wipe the sticky liquid off my dress.

The dark stains had been clearly visible in the bright light of the toilet, despite my panicked rubbing around, unlike now in the lushly lit club. Here you could only guess at the stains.

As I squeezed past sweaty bodies and struggled to keep my mouth shut, my eyes wandered through the crowd, searching.

Hoping to get a better look at one of my friends, I stood on tiptoe, but it didn't help much.

Inwardly, I cursed myself for not having worn higher heels. But they probably wouldn't have helped me in this stupid light, which barely provided any light at all.

An annoyed sigh left my lips when I was bumped into again. My eyes closed reflexively and I waited for another sticky liquid to be poured over my body.

But nothing happened.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked into Ria's face, who was looking at me radiantly. Her lipstick was a little smudged, while her hair sat a little disheveled on her head.

Before I had rushed to the toilet queue, I had left Ria alone on the dance floor, where she had probably continued to dance extensively and wildly, as her appearance told me.

" Hey, there you are! " She shouted over the loud music and wrapped her bare arm around me so that I wouldn't get lost in the crowd again.

" I've been looking all over for you, where are the others? " I also called out to her, whereupon Ria raised her eyebrow in confusion and had to think for a few seconds about what I had just asked her.

I couldn't blame her. Ria had already had a bit of alcohol, so my best friend took a little longer to think.

" Over there! " The dark-haired girl pointed her index finger in a certain direction, where I spotted Lando and Niran.

The two of them were standing on the platform where the DJ booth was located and a DJ was just about to heat up the crowd, so a loud roar went through the crowd and I was sure I would wake up with a headache in the morning.

Of course, where else would Lando be?

My best friend had recently become quite interested in the whole DJ thing, so Lando took every opportunity to look over the shoulder of a DJ at work.

" Are you coming with me? " I asked Ria as I took my eyes off Lando and Niran. But Ria was no longer standing where she had just been, but disappeared straight back into the crowd, which literally swallowed her up.

I took a deep breath and resolved to hold my breath from time to time over the next few minutes as I made my way to the DJ booth. Because there really was nothing more disgusting than the smell of sweat.

I kept getting elbowed in the stomach or back, so that my fingernails began to dig into my palms and I had to control myself not to accidentally kick them.

What felt like an eternity later, I had fought my way to the DJ booth. I leaned my head back to look up.

However, once again there was no sign of the Formula 1 driver.

That couldn't be true. How could everyone keep getting away from me?

Once again, my eyes wandered back and forth frantically as the DJ turned the music up a little louder so that I almost had a sudden hearing loss from the large speakers not far away from me.

Grumbling, I pressed my hands firmly over my ears. I had nothing against going to a club with friends to have a bit of fun and dance the night away.

But if there was one thing I loathed more than anything, it was incredibly loud music, lots of people and the smell of sweat.

" Where are you guys? " I mumbled more or less to myself as I found an empty crate and stood on it without hesitating.

I was finally a bit taller and could clearly see over some of the heads of the dancing and drinking crowd.

From a distance, I could see Max standing at the bar with his girlfriend and Aarav and Niran dancing strangely with Ria.

But where was my best friend?

My heart automatically began to beat a little faster, while a slight fear crept up inside me.

I knew that Lando couldn't handle too much alcohol and that he often forgot when it was time for him to stop because of the so-called peer pressure.

I had already seen Lando do strange things when he was drunk.

Lando was the kind of person who was initially quite funny under the influence of alcohol, but things changed abruptly soon afterwards and the McLaren driver quickly became tired.

I had occasionally found him sleeping in the strangest places, such as in the middle of a hedge, leaning against a tree or in front of a flower store.

Suddenly, I spotted the curly-haired man from afar, pushing open the back door of the club and seemingly disappearing into the backyard.

I quickly jumped down from the crate, almost falling over, but quickly caught myself.

I had to hurry to catch up with Lando in time before the Brit could even begin to think strange thoughts.

With difficulty, I literally boxed my way through the crowd towards the back exit. With every meter I walked, I prayed to find Lando in the backyard.

Maybe he just needed some fresh air or a break from the loud music, which I couldn't blame him for.

As I pushed open the steel door, the cool night air of London came straight at me, making me shiver in my sleeveless dress.

I wrapped my arms protectively around myself as I stepped further into the dark backyard and the door slammed shut with a loud thud and the club's music could only be heard muffled.

But the bass could still be clearly felt, so my knees began to tremble slightly.

The backyard was only lit by a single lamp hanging crookedly from the wall of the house, threatening to fall out of the wall with the next bash.

" Hello? " I asked into the barely lit alleyway. To my right were two large garbage cans and countless cigarette butts. The club staff and some guests always had to disappear here to smoke.

To my left was a residential building with a few lights still on, which I couldn't blame given the volume. Although I rather wondered how anyone could voluntarily move next door to a club.

A narrow corridor between the apartment building and the club led back to the street. But the corridor was pitch black.

" Lando? " I almost whispered as I pulled my cell phone out of my small pocket and turned on the flashlight.

What I was doing here was probably a good start for a horror movie. But to be honest, I only felt the slightest hint of fear, which was probably due to my alcohol intake.

My feet slowly walked towards the corridor, which was now slightly illuminated by my flashlight and I could see a little better.

And then I discovered something.

Lando sat leaning back against the brick wall with his head in his hands.

" Lan! " I shouted, almost relieved, as I ran the last few steps towards my best friend and crouched down in front of him.

He raised his eyes and looked at me. His eyes were slightly glazed and had lost their shine, while he was quite pale around the nose.

He must have thrown up.

" There you are, " he slurred slightly as a smile spread across his lips and he wrapped his arms around me.

Surprised by this embrace, I more or less lost my balance and stumbled onto Lando's lap.

My eyes widened as Lando's mouth let out an 'oops' and he began to giggle.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks and then I began to clear my throat in embarrassment before quickly rising from his lap.

At any other time I probably would have enjoyed this, but definitely not in a drunken state.

" Are you okay? " Lando inquired anxiously as he stood up and began to sway. Another soft chuckle escaped him as he rested his hands on the wall.

" Shouldn't I ask you if you're okay? " I asked as I carefully grabbed Lando's arm to support him.

" Until just now...No..." he mumbled as he slowly put one foot in front of the other and left the dark backyard with my help.

" And now? " I asked when we had finally left the dark alley behind us and were back on the street, which was still a bit busy.

A few cars and pedestrians were still on the road at this late hour and their presence made me feel a little safer.

" Now yes! " Lando beamed. " Because... because you're here. "

Without being able to do anything about it, my stomach began to tingle slightly thanks to Lando's words.

I knew he was drunk and probably didn't even remember what he was saying, but those words still made me feel pretty warm.

" Are you taking me home? I feel sick and I'm suddenly so tired," Lando sulked and then emphasized his statement with a loud yawn.

" I'll do that, but if you feel sick, let me know straight away, okay? "

Lando nodded tiredly. Before I called us a cab, I wrote to the group of friends that Lando and I were already on our way back.

I hoped that one of them would read the message and not panic and search the whole club for us.

It took a few minutes for Lando and I to wait for the cab. While we waited, the Brit told me some weird story about gorillas and red lollipops, which I didn't even understand the context of, but it had certainly been entertaining.

Lando hadn't said a word the whole cab ride, so I assumed he had fallen asleep.

But when the cab stopped at our address, Lando was suddenly wide awake again, so the British man gave the cab driver far too much money and then jumped out of the car.

Without saying a word to the cab driver, I also jumped out of the car and ran after Lando up the driveway.

" Where is the key? " I asked as I came to a halt next to him and Lando's eyes almost fell shut again.

"Jeans," he mumbled and then lifted his arms to give me more room.

Smiling, I reached into Lando's back trouser pockets and shortly afterwards pulled out the key to unlock the front door.

" This is where I live? " Lando looked around the hallway with wide eyes after I had switched on the light and closed the door behind us.

"yes" , I smiled as I put the key in the little bowl on the sideboard and then took off my shoes and put my bag down next to it.

Lando hated it when someone entered his home wearing shoes. He couldn't understand why you could feel at home with shoes on.

But the drunken Lando didn't seem to mind, because when I told him to go upstairs, the Brit ran up the wooden stairs without taking his shoes off first.

So while Lando ran upstairs, I quickly scurried into the kitchen to fill a glass of water and get an aspirin.

Hoping that Lando had already finished brushing his teeth and was in bed, I ran up to the bedroom.

But the bed was empty.

The glass of water and the aspirin found their place on the bedside table, next to a photo of Lando, his friends and me, before I ran over to the bathroom, where the light was on and Lando was sitting on the closed toilet seat, holding two wrapped toothbrushes in his hand.

" What are you doing? " I asked carefully, but apparently not carefully enough, as the Brit flinched and pointed the pink and yellow toothbrush at me.

"Phew, I thought you were a burglar," he mumbled, which made me giggle quietly.

" What are you doing? " With a nod, I pointed to the toothbrushes Lando was holding.

" I wasn't sure if the toothbrush in the cup belonged there, so I'd better get two new ones from the cupboard there," Lando pointed with his index finger to the cupboard under the sink to make it clear to me where he had got the toothbrushes from.

I know, Lando, I said to him in my mind, because I was the one who had got the toothbrushes for him and put them in the cupboard.

"This is yours, Lan," I explained to Lando as I grabbed the orange toothbrush, moistened it with water and then put toothpaste on it before holding it in front of Lando's nose.

"Cool, orange! " he grinned as he took the toothbrush from me and began to brush his teeth in slow movements, his eyes getting smaller and smaller.

" Are you going to be okay? " I asked him with a grin after I had put the packed toothbrushes away again and watched him for a few seconds.

" Brushing your teeth is sooo tiring. Has it always been? " he mumbled with the toothbrush in his mouth, causing a few blobs to drip onto his black shirt.

" Sometimes it's annoying, yes. Come on, I'll help you so it goes faster. "

I squatted slightly in front of Lando and started to help him brush his teeth. I had the feeling that I was looking at a small child and not a 24-year-old man.

After we had successfully brushed his teeth, I followed Lando over to the adjoining bedroom, where the Brit was already slipping out of his clothes.

By now he was hardly swaying, so I was sure that the alcohol was slowly disappearing from his body.

When Lando stood in front of me shortly afterwards in just his boxer shorts and I saw his muscular chest in the dim light produced by the bedside lamp, I almost fainted.

It would be a lie if I said that I hadn't had my eye on my best friend and found him attractive, because he really was.

However, there was a certain rule in our circle of friends that made it impossible for me to fall in love with my best friend, even though it was somehow way too late.

" Ohh, I forgot," Lando mumbled as he reached for the hem of his boxer shorts and tried to take them off too.

" Stop, stop! " I exclaimed in near panic as I pressed my hands over my eyes to avoid seeing my best friend naked, even though I would have loved the view at another time.

" Huh? " Lando asked, and without having to look at him, I knew that he was now standing there with a totally confused face and furrowed eyebrows.

" They stay on. " I slowly released my hands from my eyes again and was pleased to see that Lando was still wearing his boxers.

The dark-haired man nodded sympathetically.

I pulled a pair of sweatpants and a shirt out of his closet, both of which he was supposed to wear to sleep.

The Brit, however, dropped his butt onto the bed and stretched tiredly while he made no effort to get dressed.

So I had not only brushed my best friend's teeth, but also helped him into his clothes.

"You're the best," Lando mumbled as he finally slipped under the light-colored comforter and adjusted the pillow a little.

" Is there anything else I can do for you? " I asked after picking up his clothes, which were scattered randomly on the floor.

" If I asked you if you would stay, would you? " The gleam in Lando's eyes slowly returned, while a smile spread across his lips.

His question almost made the clothes I had picked up fall out of my hands again.

My heart skipped a beat as my hands began to play nervously with the fabric of Lando's shirt.

This had all gone a bit beyond our previous friendly boundaries. But sleeping in a bed with him would go completely beyond the scope, wouldn't it?

I couldn't just give in to Lando's drunken state because my heart in love wanted to scream yes out loud.

" Please ", he almost begged, while I still didn't move and almost clutched his clothes tightly. " You can wear something of mine to sleep in too. "

This sentence didn't make Lando's request any easier, because the butterflies woke up in my stomach, flapping their wings gently back and forth in my belly and my cheeks became slightly warm.

" U-uh...uhm you know that's against the rules? " I asked in a squeaky voice.

God, why were the rules suddenly so important to me?

" But there's no one here who made the rules. So no one needs to know about this, right? After all, I've always been against the rule that you can't date anyone from your circle of friends. "

Another grin formed on Lando's lips as he slowly pulled back the comforter and stood up.

A few steps later, the Brit stood in front of me.

"Besides, it's already too late for that rule anyway," he breathed more or less into my ear, causing goose bumps to spread all over my body.

And before I could even begin to open my mouth to say something back, Lando walked over to his closet and a short time later pushed some clothes towards me.

" I won't take no for an answer, because I know you feel the same way. "

With these words, Lando pushed me into the bathroom and before he closed the door, he winked at me.

And so he left me with an explosion of emotion.

I didn't know how long it had taken me to collect myself and then leave the bathroom changed.

All my emotions had gone so crazy with Lando's words that even after the long time I had spent in the bathroom, I walked back to the bed with trembling knees.

Lando was still awake. He lay covered up in bed and began to look me up and down with a grin as I scurried over to the free side of the bed.

My cheeks turned red again, so I quickly pulled the comforter over me and started tugging at the hem of Lando's shirt, which I was wearing, from under the comforter.

There was quite a big gap between Lando and me, which the Brit didn't seem to like.

He quickly wrapped his right arm around me and pulled me so close to him that my head automatically rested on his chest.

And so I could hear his rapidly beating heart.

" Do you hear how fast it beats? It always has since you've been around me," he more or less breathed to me as he wrapped his arms protectively around me and I felt a gentle kiss wash over my hair.

Damn, what was he doing to me?

My cheeks heated up again and my heart began to beat faster. Our hearts were probably fighting to see whose heart beat faster.

" Lando ", I whispered into the darkness a few minutes later, but it was too late.

The Brit had already returned to the land of dreams and left me alone with my rapidly beating heart and my thoughts.

And I hoped that he wouldn't regret this when he woke up tomorrow.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 #formula one

352 notes · View notes

billiethepumpkin · 2 months

Text

Miss You Too: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Warnings: Rated X. This content is intended for readers ages 18 years or older. If you are a minor, do not interact.

Contains: Fem!Reader. Sex toys. Masturbation. Getting caught masturbation. Husband/Wife relationship. Emotions.

Featuring: Katsuki Bakugou.

Author's Note: All characters are written to be adults because I am an old fuck :)

It was late.

It was so late. And you were so exhausted. You had so many feelings coursing through your veins. You just wanted to lie down and go to sleep.

You were finally getting tomorrow off, after having worked for eleven days in a row. You knew you didn't have to keep picking up shifts. Your husband made sure you knew, too. He made plenty of money for the both of you as Japan's #2 Hero. Shit, you would've never had to work another day in your life if you hadn't wanted to. But now, Bakugou was away. He had been for nearly three weeks, even though he had promised it'd be two. Even though he promised he wouldn't be going away for another several months. Even though he promised he'd come back to you as soon as he possibly could.

And what else were you going to do with your time? Sit on the couch and miss him? Wallow in your own self pity? Nope. Instead, you were going to work extra shifts and surprise your hubby with a nice gift when he came back. Besides, you liked your little cafe job well enough. It paid the bills before Dynamite was in the picture, and now it became your escape when things were rough at home.

You didn't even bother showering or washing your face. You just stripped down into your birthday suit and crawled into bed, leaving your dirty work clothes scattered on the carpet. You slid into the cool, smooth sheets and settled between the blankets and pillows. You rolled to your husband's side of the bed. You smelled him. His mint and musk shampoo, mixed with his natural scent of burnt caramel and firewood. You took a deep breath from his pillow. You were ashamed at the way your body came to life. Your body begged for him, seething at his absence. Seemingly on their own, your hands trailed between your legs and applied a small bit of pressure, trying to calm the aching that settled there. You missed him deeply. You couldn't tell if you would cry or cum from his scent. But when you took another deep breath and pressed your legs together, you felt the twitch of muscle and nerve at the apex of your thighs. You wouldn't be able to hold out for very much longer at all.

Back on your side of the bed, you opened your bedside table and brought out a powerful little bullet vibrator that Katsuki had bought you on his first trip out of town, right before you'd gotten married. At the time, it was only for three days, and it seemed a little bit excessive. But the trips got longer, and you only missed him more fervently as the years passed. You longed for your husband.

You turned on the vibrator and slid it between your thighs. You got right down to business. You didn't care much about how it got done. You just wanted to get it over with and go to sleep.

You felt the vibrations in your core. You thought of his arms around you. You dragged the bullet over your nerves, circling over them again and again. You remembered the way his tongue glided over your nipples. Your breathing hitched as you tried to remember the way his hands gripped your hips as he pummeled into you from behind. Your hips bucked at the thought, getting closer and closer to the edge.

As if on queue, the bedroom door opened. You stopped your motions immediately, startled by the sudden movements. You saw no shadow, no movement at first to indicate that anyone was there. And for a brief moment, you started to believe in ghosts until you saw the head of messy blonde hair peak into the room. "Damn, you couldn't wait till I got here?" he growled, a teasing smirk spreading across his cheeks.

You couldn't think of anything to say in return. What the hell are you doing here?!?! you wanted to say to him. But also, you didn't want to talk at all.

You sat up, and he tucked himself in between your body and the headboard. He was sweaty and dirty from work, but he brought into bed that same caramel and woodsmoke scent that you loved so deeply, the scent that had almost gotten you off by itself. Silently, he took the vibrator out of your hand and started to draw circles on your clit himself. You laid your back against his chest and breathed deeply, taking your time to just feel the gentle caress of his biceps around your body. "You miss me that much, huh?" Bakugou teased. He ran a calloused hand up your body and stopped on the side of your face.

"Mmhmm," you manage to hum in reply. Just then, Katsuki hit a nerve with the vibrator, and you squirmed against him, your back arching so prettily for him.

"'m gonna make you feel so good, baby," he whispered in your ear. You felt his calloused hand trailing over your body again. He pawed at the different squishy parts of your body. Your thigh, spread over his for access to your pussy. Your hips, plush and his for the taking. Your love handles and your belly. And, of course, your breasts. Katsuki took his time squeezing every part of you, as if he had forgotten what it was like to have your flesh in his hands. He continued to circle the vibrator over and around your clit.

"Pretty girl couldn't even wait till I got home, huh?" he teased in that signature growl. "Had to take care o' your pussy for me." He squeezed your breast even harder, putting pressure on your nipple and making you squirm against him again. Your back and ass pressed up against his length, and you felt him twitch to life. "Oh, honey, I'm gonna fuck you so good as soon as we both get some rest," he promised, his grip moving to your throat and your head laying back on his shoulder. "Right now, though, I just want to make you cum."

As if on some kind of timer, you felt your entire body contract against his words. Your breath got caught in your throat. Bakugou kissed your shoulder all over, and you felt his teeth graze over your skin. You let out sighs and gasps involuntarily. You fell over the edge into bliss, the sensation washing over you little by little at first, and then all at the same time.

"That's my girl," Bakugou growled into your ear, his free hand now roaming over your body, touching anywhere he could reach. You rode out your orgasm until your breathing leveled and he fumbled to turn off the vibrator.

"C'mere," he whispered as you turned around and straddled his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder to come down from your high. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

At this point, you couldn't even help it. Tensions were so high that you couldn't take it anymore. Your emotions bubbled over, and you felt your tears sneak out of your eyes when you took another deep breath full of his scent. You tried to stifle a sob as you admitted, "I missed you so much, Katsuki."

Bakugou rubbed your back as you cried into his shoulder. "I can tell," he teased, still wearing that same smirk he always did. You both giggled to yourselves for a moment before he finally admitted it.

"Missed you too."

#mha #bnha #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugou #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bakugo #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou

342 notes · View notes