#shout out to my parents love ya | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

juyeonszn · 1 year

Text

BAD IDEA RIGHT?

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.10k

GENRES … smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol

SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.

To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.

Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.

You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.

The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.

The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.

You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.

“Woah, do you want a cushion?”

You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.

“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.

“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”

He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.

“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.

“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.

“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”

“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”

“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.

Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)

“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.

“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”

“Bro…”

You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.

“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”

“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”

“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”

You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.

“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.

You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.

The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”

“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”

“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.

The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.

Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP

“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.

But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.

“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.

Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”

Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.

“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.

The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.

“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.

You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.

“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.

The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.

As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”

He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.

There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.

Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.

You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?

As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”

You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”

He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you breathe.

“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”

You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”

That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.

His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”

“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.

“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”

The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.

“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.

You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”

“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.

When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.

“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”

You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.

He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.

You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.

“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”

Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”

The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:

What the hell do you do now?

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz juyeon #tbz juyeon #lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon smut #juyeon x reader #juyeon smut #juyeonszn #juyeonszn.100🪩

1K notes · View notes

bradshawssugarbaby · 6 months

Text

All The Pretty Girls - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Inspired by All The Pretty Girls by Kenny Chesney.

pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

warnings/content: sickeningly sweet Bob fluff.

word count: 3.1k

I'm home for the summer, shoot out the lights Don't blow my cover, oh I'm free tonight I'm coming over, call all your friends "Somebody hold me", all the pretty girls said All of the whiskey, went to my head "Shut up and kiss me", all the pretty girls said

Bob took in a deep breath as he walked up the long, dirt pathway that lead to his parents’ farmhouse. It’d been months since he’d been back in Kentucky - years, even, and as he approached the sounds of the party his family was throwing in the backyard, he felt himself fighting harder and harder to resist the overwhelming urge to turn around and run as fast as he could back to his rental car, hop in and catch the next flight back to San Diego. He contemplated the excuses he could come up with to explain his sudden disappearance, but before he had a chance to figure out the minor details, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Bobby! There’s our favourite lil pilot!”

His uncle shouted from across the yard, coming over to him with a firm slap on the shoulder as he greeted him. Bob tried not to cringe at the juvenile nickname his family still called him - he hated being called Bobby. No one back in San Diego knew him as anything other than Bob - it felt more grown up. He was the baby in his family, often called Bobby in a condescending way to remind him of how much younger he was than everyone else.

He’d been the surprise baby in the family - born unexpectedly when his mother was 37, following behind four older sisters who were 6, 8, 11 and 13 when he was born. Now, at 32, Bob felt himself recoil internally everytime someone called him that, especially if it was his family. His dozen nieces and nephews were about the only ones he’d tolerate it from, and occasionally his grandmother - who at this point was over 90 years old, and who was he to tell her no?

Bob adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, forcing a smile as he turned to face his boisterous family. Growing up, he’d always wondered if he was adopted - he was quiet, reserved, and shy - the complete opposite of everyone in his family tree. In fact, it was a running joke with his older sister Kate that he was adopted. He believed it for a while when he was 6 - it explained so much about him, or so he thought. Until, that was, the moment that his eldest sister, the often bossy and in control Jennifer, pulled out the home videos that had been recorded when Bob was born - a sight that Bob still couldn’t erase from his memory, regardless of how hard he tried to.

“I’m not so little anymore, Uncle Don,” Bob said with a sheepish smile as his uncle pulled him in for a bear hug.

“No, s’pose you aren’t now, are ya? You got yourself a little lady now, Bobby?”

“Not yet. I’ve been busy - haven’t been stateside in months, actually. This is my first chance at leave in over a year. Just never bothered taking it, I guess.”

That was a lie - Bob had taken a couple weeks leave last year, but he spent it at his home in San Diego, refreshing the decor and repainting to make it more to his tastes and basking in the peaceful quiet of his new space. He’d spent a day or two wandering around downtown San Diego with his friend, Bradley, the two of them exploring the area together - Bradley showing Bob all the sites he’d remembered from photographs and childhood memories. Bob couldn’t tell his family that though - they’d be crushed to learn that he had time off and chose not to spend it with them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see them, he was sure of it. He just didn’t want to field all the questions he knew came with each visit. Nothing was off limits to his family - his love life, relationships, his personal details - he’d lost count of how many phone calls included a casual “So, meet anyone special yet, Bobby?”. He knew they meant well, but God, was he ever tired of it.

That was the other thing he’d grown tired of - watching his language all the time. His family was religious - far more so than he’d ever been, and the idea of swearing and cursing was scandalous to them, but it was something Bob’d grown used to in his 14 years serving in the Navy, between the Academy and on base. Trying to curb it around his family members was a task in and of itself.

“Robert!” His mother's arrival interrupted his ruminations, her fervent embrace enveloping him in a maternal cocoon. "Your accent's gone already, I knew California would be bad for you," she lamented, a tinge of jest lacing her words.

“Hi Ma, missed you,” He nodded, hugging her back firmly with a smile, “Relax, Ma, I’m still a Southern boy at heart, even if I don’t sound like it. Two of the guys in my squad are from the South too. Jake’s from Texas, Bradley’s from Virginia. I’ll probably find my accent again soon now that I’m stationed with them at North Island. At Lemoore I wasn’t paired up with anyone from here.”

“Ooh, Robert,” she said softly, rubbing his shoulder as she spoke to him, “There’s someone who’s been askin’ ‘bout you.”

Bob was about to ask who it was when the question was answered for him. He turned in the direction his mother was facing and felt his cheeks flush a bright red as he saw you. You and Bob had been friends as children - best friends, in fact. You’d kept in contact over the years, but eventually, around your 24th birthdays, the hangouts became less frequent, the phone calls grew further apart and texts took longer to answer, until eventually, they stopped. Standing in front of him now, eight years later, he couldn’t imagine for the life of him why he ever stopped talking to you.

His mind raced with a million thoughts at once, visions of what life would have been like if he’d manned up and asked you out. If he’d decided to risk it all in high school and take you to prom, or if he’d asked you out when you went to university a couple hours drive away from the Naval Academy. He figured he probably would have married you, if given the chance to go back and do it again. Own a house with a big yard, a half a dozen kids running around, some just like him, with sandy blonde hair and deep blue eyes, and some just like you - a vision of beauty in his mind.

He snapped back to reality when he felt you wrap your arms around him, a wide smile spreading across your face. He hugged you firmly, not wanting to make his sudden desire to hold you close evident. For all he knew, you could be married with a family by this point - it wouldn’t be odd at all, not now in your early thirties. In fact, he felt like he was the odd one out compared to everyone he’d grown up around in Kentucky. Most of the people he’d gone to school with were parents to kids approaching third grade.

“It’s so good to see you!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you pulled back from Bob’s embrace, sporting a warm, friendly grin.

“Yeah, it’s great seeing you too. Wow, it’s uh…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Eight years, give or take.” You nodded quickly, shrugging the idea off as you met Bob’s cobalt blue eyes, finding it hard not to get yourself lost in them. He always did have the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen, framed perfectly now by silver wire framed glasses.

“How have you been?” He smiled as he guided you over towards the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and turning to look at you, “You want some sweet tea?”

“I’d love some, thanks Bob,” you nodded, remembering that he preferred going by that now that he was older.

As Bob poured two glasses of his mom’s homemade sweet tea for each of you, your eyes wandered over him, taking in the sight before you. The last time you’d seen him, Bob still resembled the teenage boy you’d crushed on throughout high school, but now, standing in his place, was a man. He stood at a solid six foot one, his blonde hair neatly combed, and a more adult style pair of wire glasses adorning his face, as opposed to the thick, dark square frames he wore throughout the time you knew him.

“I’ve been good,” you nodded slowly as you sipped the cool, brown liquid, the notes of lemon, sugar and black tea dancing on your tongue, “How about you? I heard you’re stationed out west now?”

“Yeah, I was at Lemoore, which is further north in California, but now I’m at North Island, in Coronado. Just outside of San Diego, actually. Other side of the bay.”

“How do you like it there? Bet the weather’s great, like, all the time, isn’t it? Much better than what I get out in D.C.”

“You’re in D.C. now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling softly, “Never left after college.”

Bob listened empathetically as you filled him in on everything he’d missed in your life over the past eight years. As you spoke, he couldn’t help but feel his attention wavering, not because he wasn’t interested in what you had to say, but because he couldn’t help but envision all the things that could’ve happened had he been brave enough to ask you out earlier. He wanted to kick himself for not trying for you - he’d always been fond of you. The sheer thought of you asking about him, and coming back to Kentucky to see him when he came home was enough to make him think of how much he’d screwed up before.

You felt yourself rambling nervously as you talked to Bob, trying to avoid any awkward silence between the two of you. You were so relieved to have this moment with him - just to talk to him again. You heard he was single, and you knew you still had unresolved feelings for him so when your mom had told you about the homecoming barbecue that Mrs. Floyd was planning for him, you knew you had to make the drive home, just to see what could’ve been between you both, and to see if anything remained between you.

As the night carried on, you felt yourself falling further and further for Bob - and now, you were left wondering why you hadn’t been bold enough to ask him out before. Why now, when it was the least convenient for the two of you, had to be when you realized this. You lived on the complete opposite coasts from one another - a six hour flight spanning the United States between the two of you. Although, the more time spent with Bob that evening, the more you found yourself considering taking a transfer to your job’s California office. Los Angeles was a much more doable three hour drive to San Diego - you could manage driving three hours every few days to see him if you needed to.

By 9pm, the party had dwindled down to a few members of Bob’s family, his parents, and you - everyone else having turned in for the night or headed home earlier. You, however, were staying a couple of houses away at your parents’ home, and could manage to stay as long as Bob wanted you to. He looked around the party, and, upon realizing he wouldn’t be missed anymore if he disappeared, he took you by the hand playfully, leading you to the old tree at the back of the property.

Nestled in the tree sat the treehouse you’d spent so many hours in together as kids, looking completely unchanged from when you’d last seen it. Bob smiled as he started climbing up the makeshift ladder, looking back at you with a mischievous grin - one you hadn’t seen in him since you were children.

“You comin’?” he ribbed playfully as he swung himself up into the treehouse, reaching his hand down to offer you help.

You shook your head, laughing at how ridiculous you felt, but quickly climbed your way up the tree to join him. He helped you into the treehouse, smirking at you as he adjusted his glasses. The treehouse was still decorated the way you’d left it - old toys sitting out on the table, a small toy chest full of Nerf guns and playing cards, a couple of toy cars and action figures joining them. Bob picked one of the action figures up, laughing as he held it in his hands, as if all the memories of you two playing together came flooding back at once.

“I forgot about this place,” you mused softly, your voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of forgotten treasures.

Bob nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips as he regarded the toy with a mix of fondness and amusement.

"Yeah, my nieces and nephews use it I guess sometimes. Glad to see they've left Batman intact for me though," he remarked, lifting the action figure as if to emphasize its importance.

A nostalgic chuckle bubbled up within you as you recalled the shared adventures of your childhood. "Hey, I remember that one! Batman used to come in and rescue Barbie for me all the time."

A playful glint danced in Bob's eyes as he remembered those innocent days of make-believe. "And then you insisted that Batman had to kiss Barbie."

"Listen, Barbie wanted to thank him," you protested with a playful grin, memories of imaginative play flooding back with each word.

"I think you just watched too many romcoms," Bob teased, his voice laced with affectionate banter.

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but laugh at the playful exchange, the echoes of your shared history ringing through the air. But as your laughter subsided, you found yourself drawn once more to Bob's gaze, the warmth of familiarity mingling with the weight of unspoken questions.

"Do you ever think about what would have happened if we dated in high school?" you ventured, the words hanging in the air like a delicate thread connecting past and present.

"All the time, actually," Bob admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

"I always figured I'd end up marrying you," you nodded, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and sincerity as you confessed the thought that had lingered in the depths of your mind for far too long.

The air seemed to crackle with tension as your words hung in the space between you, each syllable echoing with the weight of unspoken truths and long-held desires. Across from you, Bob's expression shifted, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickering across his features before settling into a mask of gentle surprise.

The soft glow of the evening sun cast golden hues upon the scene, lending an ethereal quality to the moment as you both grappled with the revelation that hung heavy in the air. For a heartbeat, the world around you seemed to stand still, as if holding its breath in anticipation of what would come next.

Bob's gaze softened, his cobalt eyes reflecting the vulnerability mirrored in your own. "I… I never knew you felt that way," he admitted, his voice a gentle murmur against the backdrop of fading daylight.

A rush of uncertainty washed over you, mingling with the warmth of raw honesty that spilled from your lips. "I think I just, pushed it away, you know? I didn’t want us to stop being friends over it or anything as kids." you confessed, your words a whispered confession carried on the breeze.

Silence enveloped you once more, punctuated only by the distant chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. In the quiet of the moment, the weight of unspoken possibilities hung heavy between you, a delicate dance of hope and fear weaving its way through the air.

Then, with a soft exhale, Bob reached across the space between you, his hand finding yours with a gentle certainty that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "Maybe… maybe we should talk about this," he suggested, his voice tentative yet filled with a quiet resolve.

As his fingers intertwined with yours, you felt a surge of courage swell within your chest, buoyed by the warmth of his touch. With a nod, you met his gaze, the tension hanging in the air melting away as you closed the distance between the two of you, locking your lips with his in a gentle, tender kiss.

Time seemed to slow to a standstill as the world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of pure connection. His lips met yours with a softness that belied the depth of emotion coursing between you, igniting a spark that set your heart ablaze.

The sensation of his breath mingling with yours sent shivers cascading down your spine, each touch igniting a symphony of sensations that danced across your skin like a gentle breeze. In that fleeting instant, you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, the weight of the world falling away as you surrendered to the intoxicating pull of desire.

The soft murmur of the evening breeze whispered through the air, carrying with it the promise of a new beginning as you reveled in the sweetness of the moment. His arms enveloped you in a tender embrace, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies, only the shared warmth of your intertwined souls.

For a heartbeat, the world ceased to exist beyond the two of you, each touch a testament to the depth of feeling that bound you together. In the embrace of his arms, you found solace, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of life's uncertainties. As you finally pulled away, the ghost of his touch lingered on your lips, a lingering reminder of the passion that pulsed between you.

Bob’s cheeks flushed bright red, and he began to stutter as he spoke, a trait he’d long grown out of. “I, uh, I…um, that was…something,” he managed to spit out before beginning to ramble about how much he enjoyed kissing you.

“Bob,” you began, laughing softly as your hand gently rested on his cheek.

“Mhmm?”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

#bob x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick fic #robert floyd #bob floyd

627 notes · View notes

jyoongim · 7 months

Note

HIHIHIH OMG ILYSMMM UR WOEK IS AMAZING!!!

SOOOOOO i have a few req idwas!!

idea 1: reader is lucifers s/o and finds out luci is cheating on them so for payback they hook up w alastor luci may or may not find out up to you!

idea 2: reader is alastors s/o and they are at readers parents house (theyre also in hell) and reader goes to ask their dad sum like "hey daddy..." and her dad and alastor both respond....

JUST A FEW IDEAS I HAD FOR AWHILE BTW IDK IF I DID THIS RIGHT THIS WAS MY FIRST REQ..

You did a wonderful job! Thank you for the request! i did the 2nd idea! I thought it was funny hehehe

Your parents had invited you and Alastor to Sunday dinner. Funny thing that the most church-loving couple ended up in Hell. They never broke tradition even down here.

“Ooh honey we are so happy you two could join us” Your mother chirped, beaming as you hand her the bouquet of flowers you had picked up and pulled you into a hug.

“Its always a pleasure to get a chance to eat your fine cookin maam” Alastor smiled as his mother in law gave him a squeeze, letting y’all inside and heading towards the dining room.

Your mother talked about the latest gossip she had heard, hissing murderously at the mention of Susan joining her book club.

”Oh can you believe that hag? Just can’t let me have nothin”

“I told ya momma if she hate the woman so much why not just smoke ‘er, but nope she too sweet.” Your father’s deep brawl met your ears as you entered the living room.

He smiled at you, pulling you into a bear hug as he kissed your forehead “Ooh there’s my princess” he said affectionately making you giggle. He straightened up, turning to Alastor, he gave a smile

”Aaah how are you doing my boy? heard you were managing a fancy hotel! Me and the Mrs should come check y’all out sometimes.”

They shook hands and you slipped away to help your mother get dinner.

And what a dinner indeed.

Dinner was filled with chatter as the two parties caught up with each other.

Everything was wonderful.

“Daddy can you pass me the pitcher of lemonade please?” you asked as you realized you had a empty glass.

“Why of course”

”Sure thing”

two voices said, making you tense and look up with wide eyes.

Your father and Alastor were now looking at each other as both had reached out to grab the pitcher.

Alastor ears were perked as he gave your father a sharp smile, slowly retracting his hand as he chuckled.

Your father however had a frown on his face and his lips pulled into a snarl, eyes narrowing.

You wanted to be swallowed up by the floor.

Your father’s eyes cut to you, making your cheeks burn as you looked away, embarrassed.

“You wanna tell me why he responded to that? You know what i already have an inkling. Alastor meet me out back” your father growled standing up, making a move to grab his shotgun.

”There’s no need for that!” You whined, standing up to block your father from Alastor.

”Sir i assure you that isn’t half of what she calls me” the red demon chuckled darkly, making the older demon rush at him.

Alastor disappeared in a shrew of shadows, taking you with him.

”Dinner was lovely as always Madam” he kissed your mother’s cheek, disappearing as the sound of a shot rang out.

”Well dinner was rather eventual” he smirked, you facepalmed

”i am never going home again. How will i face them again after that?” You whine. Alastor kissed your cheek

”Dear you’ve called me worst, I’m sure hell forget about it”

———————————————————————————-

“Um guys why is there a demon with a shotgun shouting outside the hotel?” Charlie asked.

You groaned, glaring at Alastor

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x y/n #jyoongim #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fluff

403 notes · View notes

eternalmoonlight18 · 9 days

Note

Hi! Can I request a shanks x fem reader where she’s a famous doctor who shanks is trying to recruit and he locates her in Sabaody. He thinks she’s like an old man or something but it turns out she’s shakky and rayleigh’s daughter (love at first sight situation)

thank you🩷🩷

WOAHHHH i love this request! thank you for requesting it anon! i hope i did it justice, i really enjoyed writing this hehe

An Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor Away

Akagami no Shanks x afab!reader

CW: mentions of doing the naughty if you squint. otherwise sfw!

wc: 2.4k

A rumour spread across the Grand Line Paradise and into the New World that an infamous doctor poisoned and killed a Celestial Dragon on Mary Geoise. The doctor fled, of course, and the World Government was chasing that individual all across the seas.

While others argued that it was nothing but a rumour, Red Haired Shanks believed that it was very much real.

Leaning against the rails of the Red Force, he looked at his first mate, Benn Beckman, who was lighting up a cigarette.

"Say, Benn, I wanna meet this doctor. He's got the balls to poison and kill a Celestial Dragon and get away from it, so he earns my respect." he started.

The first mate gave a huff of smoke. "You believe someone did that? And even if he did do it, do you believe he's still alive?" he asked.

The red-haired captain hummed. "Ya know something, Benn? This world is full of surprises. I mean, look at Luffy! Who would've thought that little twerp we knew back then would become one of the most notorious pirates in this day and age?"

Benn chuckled. "I guess you're right. I have some intel from your fleets near Sabaody that the doctor is in hiding there. Shall we set course?" he asked.

A bright grin flashed on Shanks' face at the proposal. "Men!" he shouted. "Let's head to Sabaody for some fun!"

--------

The bright morning sun seeped into the room you were sleeping at. You groaned and tossed your head away from the light, hoping to go back to sleep. However, those plans were tossed out the window when you heard a gentle knock on the door.

"(Y/n) get up. Time for breakfast," a deep voice gently reprimanded.

Moaning in frustration, you kicked your sheets off the bed and sighed. "So early, old man? I wanna catch more sleep,"

A hearty chuckle echoed. "At your big age, and you're a freeloader, aren't you? Your mom isn't going to be happy that you're overstaying."

"Hey, I'm helping with the bar, okay? Unlike you, you drink every day, you damn alcoholic of a father." you snorted as you got up to open the door.

There stood your father, the infamous first mate to the Pirate King himself, Silvers Rayleigh. A small grin appeared on ur face as you looked up at your old man.

"You do know I'm on the run, right dad?" you pouted.

Rayleigh put a gentle hand on your shoulders and sighed. "You know, that was pretty reckless of you for killing that Celestial Dragon. You barely escaped."

A giggle passed through your lips. "That prick got what he deserved. What can I say? I'm the daughter of the one and only Silvers Rayleigh!"

"You may be my daughter, but it seems like you got your recklessness from your uncle Roger instead," he said, grinning as he remembered his old friend.

A soft sigh escaped your lungs. "I wish I was able to meet him; he would've been a great uncle."

Rayleigh and Shakky weren't your biological parents, but they found you stranded on the shore of Amazon Lily when you were ten years old. They decided to take you in as their child, and you've been with them ever since. Crocus, Roger's doctor, taught you everything you knew about medicine. You decided to use that knowledge to treat Celestial Dragons, much to the dismay of your parents and Crocus, but your underlying mission wasn't to heal them but to kill them off secretly. You managed to keep your relations with your parents a secret and created an alias for yourself, The Beaked Doctor, due to the dark robe and beaked mask you donned while you were a doctor on Mary Geoise.

And now you were no longer a doctor, on the run from the World Government, and leeching off your aging parents.

"I'm sure Roger would've loved you. Now, head down; your mother is waiting for you," he demanded.

You reluctantly listened and started to make your way downstairs before you heard some commotion from outside. You paused on the stairs and listened closely. The CP0 was in Sabaody looking for you. One of the Celestial Dragons was able to provide a brief description of your face unmasked. You groaned.

"I've overstayed my welcome. I'll leave tomorrow, but I need to gather some supplies before I leave." you sighed.

"It's fine. Just be careful out there later on." Rayleigh said as he made his way down the stairs. You followed suit and made your way to Shakky, who was behind the counter cleaning shot glasses.

"Hi, Mom," you greeted.

"Y/n, go eat breakfast," she said kindly as she took a huff from her cigarette.

"Maybe later. Gotta run some quick errands since I'm leaving tomorrow," you said.

Shakky put her hand on her cheek. "Leaving soon? I did enjoy your help around here, my dear."

You shook your head and laughed. "CP0 is here. As much as I'd love to stay, I can't stay and get you and the old man involved in my shit."

Your mom hummed as she continued to wipe shot glasses. "Alright. Take a robe and cover your face if you can. Don't worry about Rayeligh and I, we'll be okay."

You quickly grabbed a large robe and put the hood on. Before leaving the bar, you glanced at Rayleigh. "Hey, old man, tell mom to quit smoking. Gonna damage her lungs one of these days." you chimed.

A rumble of laughter escaped the man. "You know she won't listen to me. Besides, I've got a daughter who's an excellent doctor."

Shakky simply smiled and laughed at the conversation.

You laughed as you left the bar.

----------

As soon as Shanks stepped foot off of the Red Force, he could sense the tension in the air. Although usual business continued, the Red-Haired Pirates could sense that something was going on.

"Hey boss, just spotted a bunch of Marines near Grove 47. I also saw a CP agent wandering, too." Yassop lowly informed the captain.

Shanks briefly scanned the area and confirmed that Yassop was right. It only solidified his suspicions that the doctor was here.

"Alright, men, go stock up and enjoy yourselves. Since Marines and CP are here, we're only going to stay here for a night," he ordered.

Once the crew dispersed, the Red-Haired man started to stroll around the markets of Sabaody. As he looked around, he saw a hooded figure make its way into a Pharmacy. Intrigued, Shanks quickly followed them into the store and hung by the open entrance to listen in.

The shopkeeper with a weirdly long square nose greeted you with a hello once you entered the pharmacy. You quietly greeted back.

"Do you have any empty pills? I'm a medical student, and I need some for practice." You quietly asked.

The shopkeeper took a glance at you and nodded. "Sure thing, miss." He promptly headed to the back to get the supplies you needed.

You let out a soft sigh as the breath you were holding was let out. You noticed that someone had walked in and started browsing the shelves, but you paid no mind. Soon, the keeper came back out with the supplies in his hand and began to ring up the total. Once you placed the Berries on the counter, you began to promptly walk out of the store before the keeper spoke up.

"Have you seen the Beaked Doctor around here? Everyone's looking for them," he asked inquisitively.

You froze but didn't turn around. "Nope, no idea who that is." you squeaked.

You heard footsteps nearing you. Your heart started beating fast, and you wanted to run, but your feet were glued to the ground.

"That's a shame." the man called as you heard a revolver click. "Because there's a poster with her face plastered across town, and it looks exactly like you, doctor.

Before you realized what was happening, a strong arm pulled you down as you heard a gunshot ring throughout the building and into the streets of Sabaody. Stumbling on the floor, you saw a red-haired man glancing down at you with wide brown eyes.

Oh, he was gorgeous.

‐--------

As soon as he saw the shopkeeper, he knew that he was a CP0 agent. But what he couldn't understand was why the agent was undercover.

He quietly walked into the pharmacy and started to browse the shelves in an attempt to get more information. Once the keeper was back, the hooded figure and he made an exchange, then the hooded person proceeded to make their way out. But within a few seconds, the atmosphere went from relaxed to tense as he watched the keeper pull a gun at the mystery person.

"That's a shame." the man said as Shanks heard a revolver click. "Because there's a poster with her face plastered across town, and it looks exactly like you, doctor."

Doctor!

Shanks shot his head up in realization and acted fast. As soon as the undercover agent pressed the trigger, he quickly shoved the doctor down to the ground. The woman groaned, then looked up at him.

Shanks' breath hitched at the sight. The doctor wasn't some old man or careless, ugly medic; she was a breathtaking, stunning woman.

--‐------

It felt like time had stopped as the two of you were looking at each other. A light blush appeared on your cheeks once you realized that you were staring at the red-haired man for too long. But, your mind clicked once you realized who your savour was.

"Red-Haired Shanks?!" you gasped.

The shopkeeper froze once he heard the name. "What?! Red Haired-Shanks?!" I gotta call backup! He sputtered as he ran out the door.

The two of you watched the keeper run out.

Shanks offered you his arm and hoisted you up to the ground. He flashed a bright smile your way. "Wow, and here I thought that this infamous doctor was an old geezer. Turns out you're a gorgeous woman." he smoothly said.

You scoffed as you brushed the dirt from your pants. "Save it, ya womanizer. We gotta get out of here, now that they've seen my face, everyone's gonna come after me."

You grabbed Shanks' only hand and sped out the door and into the streets. He couldn't help but laugh as he followed you.

"Aren't we moving too fast? At least take me out on a date first!" he joked.

"This isn't the time Red-Haired! Ugh, you're just what the people say you are!" you groaned.

He chuckled. "You seem to know everything about me. But yet I know nothing about you." he pondered.

"Oh, trust me, I know you well, even if this is our first time meeting. Now, come on, my dad would want to see you." you urged as you picked up your pace.

"Your dad...?" he questioned.

Soon after, the two of you stopped in front of Shakky's Rip-Off Bar. Shanks glanced up and let out a surprised grunt.

"Hold on, if you say we're seeing your dad, and he's here, that means-!" he started before he was cut off by Rayleigh.

"Ah, Shanks! Good to see you! I see you've met my daughter Y/n!" your father greeted at the doorstep.

The red-haired man let out a laugh and looked at you. You glanced up and gave Shanks a sheepish smile. "Yeah, my old man is Silvers Rayleigh. Surprise!"

"Oh, sweets, you're full of surprises, aren't ya? Let's head inside before other people see you," he said as he led you in the establishment.

--------

You saw that the Red-Haired Pirates were drinking away at the bar, and your mother was busy making drinks. Loud, rowdy laughter echoed through the bar as you, Rayleigh and Shanks proceeded to sit at the bar table in front of Shakky.

Your mom took a look at you and smiled. "You made quite a commotion, dear. I can see the Marines are flooding the archipelago right now," she said.

You rubbed your hand behind your head. "I tried my best to stay low, Mom. Good thing Shanks here saved me."

The man you spoke of who was sitting behind you gave a smile. "Believe it or not, I was looking for your sweets. I heard what you did at Mary Geoise, and I gotta say, I want you to join my crew!" he laughed.

"Hey, captain!" Hongo spoke up from a table. "Did ya forget that I'm already part of your crew?" he argued as he guzzled down a pint of alcohol.

The crew burst out into laughter, and you couldn't help but laugh along.

"Hey, now!" Shanks chided, "What's wrong with having two doctors? Hongo needs all the help he can get, especially when we're all hungover!"

He faced you once more and smirked. "Whadd'ya say, sweets? You've captured my heart already. Why don't you come along with us?" he proposed.

Your father chuckled. "Shanks, you've got balls to flirt with my daughter in front of me." he joked as he took a swig of alcohol.

"What can I say? Didn't Captain Roger say that I was going to steal your future daughter's heart one day?" he laughed.

You felt yourself heat up. "Hold on, you big flirt. What's in it for me if I join?"

"Easy! Since you're probably the most wanted woman right now because of that awesome stunt you pulled, I can give you protection!" he said. Then he leaned and whispered in your ear, "Plus, protection is not the only thing you can get."

He pulled away and winked at you, leaving you as a blushing mess. Shaking your head, you smiled softly towards the man beside you.

"You make a hard bargain, Shanks. Alright, I'll join. But before you try anything, you gotta take me out on a date first." You teased.

"I might have to put a raincheck on that date, sweets, there's nothing romantic about the Red Force, and these idiots would ruin our date night." he chuckled.

You got up to head up to your room. "Alright then, guess I have to gather my stuff." you declared as you hopped off the chair.

You patted Shanks' cheeks and gave him a soft peck on the cheek before you walked away with a wink. The red-haired man gave a toothy grin as his heart started to pick up.

The crew saw the interaction and made wolf whistles.

"Don't you worry, Rayleigh, Shakky, I'll take good care of her," he said as he softly smiled at the couple.

Shakky simply smiled and continued making drinks.

"You better keep your word, you punk. Or else you'll meet Roger very soon." your father grunted jokingly. Shanks couldn't help but laugh. Shanks couldn't help but laugh. Who would've thought that this infamous doctor was a beautiful woman, who also happened to be the Dark King's daughter?

--------

#shanks fluff #shanks x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #reader insert #fem reader #shanks x you #shanks x y/n

196 notes · View notes

deanscherrypie420 · 3 months

Text

ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝

A/N: This is my first criminal minds fic but I figured I should cause I LOVE the show... I haven't watched the new season yet cause of personal reasons but, ya know, I'll get there. <3 I hope you enjoy

Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader Y/N, JJ, Emily Prentiss, Luke Alvez,

Pairing: Reader X Spencer

Warnings: Mentions of murder, interrogation, violence, angst, fluff, suggestive dialogue, arguing, praise kink, Dom/sub, age gap, implied smut, (6 years) (NO ACTUAL SMUT.) (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: After taking you into custody, the team tries to get a confession out of you for a crime they suspect you committed. The only thing you seem to want is to play. They bring in Reid as a last resort, and you can't help but like him... Even if he is a pain in the ass.

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

Y/N was walking around in the mall, stopping to check out Victoria Secret. She loved the store, the fragrances, the clothes, or lack there of. Lingerie made her feel pretty, and she loved it.

After selecting a few sets that she liked, along with a set of perfume and lotion, she went to the checkout. She opened her wallet and grabbed one of her many cards, handing it to the cashier with a smile.

"Thank you for shopping with us, have a lovely day." The woman told her, and she rolled her eyes. Once she left the store she took the escalator downstairs, making her way to the parking lot. When she arrived, she noticed the swarm of cop cars.

"Ironic." She told herself, keeping her head down and making her way to her car. She opened her passenger door and set the bag down. When she turned around, she was met by two agents.

"Y/N Y/L/N, you're under arrest for suspected murder, accomplice to murder, and grand theft." The taller man spoke, and she nodded, a small smile creeping onto her lips.

"How fun." She said as she put her hands behind her back, hiding a small blade within her sleeve. The man turned her around and pressed her against the car. Before he could inform her of her rights, she maneuvered the blade from its confinement and sliced the agent's wrist.

It wasn't meant to help her escape, but simply to vex the man. He grunted and slammed her harder against her vehicle, tightening the cuffs harshly around her wrists. She gasped and bit her lip, "That hurts!" She protested, but was quickly shut up by his partner. "Karma's a bitch."

She was led to a black SUV, a large hand covering the back of her head as she got in. The drive was quiet, she spent most of her time studying the agents. One was a blonde, slim, confident woman. The other was a brown haired, taller man.

She slouched down, moving her elbow to undo her seat-belt. Once it was off, she leaned forward and grinned. "Officer, do I get to keep my stuff?" She cooed in the man's ear. He looked back at her in the rear-view mirror and tsked in disapproval. "You got out of your seatbelt."

"Sit back, head against the headrest." The woman ordered. Y/N pouted her lip, falling back into her seat. "It's not like I have my hands. I can't hurt you." She complained, but she was ignored.

Ugh, so rude, she thought.

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

Now, she was sitting alone in an interrogation room. She tilted back in her chair, her handcuffs binding her to the table. "I'm bored! Come on guys, where are you?" She shouted at the mirror, a sick smile on her face. "Play with me!"

She had already spoken to quite a few agents. She had fun with all of them, watching them get mad. Oh, how she loved it. Her smile only grew as a new woman came in.

"Oh goody! I love meeting new people." She feigned innocence, her tone high pitch and bubbly. "I'm Agent Prentiss. I'm assuming you know why you're here?" Her tone was gentle, like a parent soothing a child.

"Is this your new tactic? Baby me and hope I confess?" Y/N giggled, soaking up Emily's irritated look. "Y'know, you have a really bad poker face. You're pissed!" She broke out in a fit of laughter, swinging back in her chair and tilting her head back.

Emily abruptly left the room, taken aback by the young woman's demeanor. When she closed the door, she turned to her group. "Do you guys see this? We played all of our cards here. She's not gonna talk until we get something we can use."

Jennifer shook her head, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "We literally brought Daniel up, and she didn't flinch. How does that not affect her?" She sounded exasperated, so ready to be done with this case.

Suddenly, Spencer barged into the room. He seemed to be in a hurry, a file in his hand. "Let me. I think I can get something out of her." He asked quickly. Emily just nodded and motioned towards the door.

Y/N raised her eyebrows when he came in, kicking the chair in front of her out from beneath the table. "You're the guy from the car." She acknowledged, and he nodded.

"You're being held for suspected murder and theft. How do you feel about that?" He asked, and she thought for a moment. "Hmmm... I think it's awesome. What about you?" She teased, and he gave her a stern look.

She didn't know why, but she felt her stomach turn. She leaned back in her chair and scoffed. "You're no fun. Why are you here?" He shook his head and opened her file, not bothering to answer her.

"Hey, I asked you a question." She hissed, annoyance creeping in. "Answer me!" She whined, and he slammed his hand down on the table. "Shut up. Speak when I ask you to."

She felt her cheeks warm, embarrassment evident on her face. She bit down on her lip and kicked his legs beneath the table. "You're a douche." She muttered and he ignored her again, setting the file down and flipping it for her to see.

"Your accomplice is Daniel Turner, correct?" He questioned and she rolled her eyes, her turn to blow him off. He didn't let it slide though, standing and grabbing her face. "Correct?" He repeated, and she swallowed hard.

"Correct." Her voice was quiet now, polar opposite to what it was before. He smiled and sat back down. "Good girl." He praised. She froze, eyes locked on him. She felt a warm feeling pool in her core, overwhelming her. He, on the other hand, continued skimming through her file. He knew what he was doing.

The profile read dysfunctional family, so he knew she had some sort of parental issues. They had tried both approaches, Luke playing the role of the proud dad and Emily as the proud mother. It didn't work for either of them, so they abandoned the idea.

He didn't know why it wasn't obvious before, but an older man wasn't enough. Reid was thirty-two and she was twenty-six, but she wanted dominance. Luke had taken the soft approach and it didn't work, so Spencer decided to try it the other way around. So far, he was successful.

She bit her lip as she watched him, squirming slightly in her seat. She was hot and bothered, and tried to hide it. She knew it would be used as a leverage. What she didn't know, was that it already was.

"Stop moving." He ordered her, and she scoffed. "I'm sorry, these cuffs aren't exactly comfortable." She spat at him and he looked up at her. Quickly, he got up and pulled out the key. He removed her handcuffs and set them on the table. She was about to say something smug, but he was quicker.

"Lose the attitude." He paused then glanced down at her, "Also, you're cuffs have nothing to do with your legs. Don't lie to me again." That seemed to shut her up, her cheeks burning with red as she nodded. After a few minutes he set the file back down, flipping to a specific page. "You murdered this man, correct?" She looked down at the picture, her face subconsciously contorting in disgust. She quickly fixed her face, plastering a smile onto it. "I don't know, did I?" She teased and he glared at her.

It was a warning. A warning for her to change her tone or she'd be a bad girl. "Yes, sir." She mumbled and he raised a brow. Spencer shook his head and stood up to leave. "W-wait, where are you going?" She asked, the eagerness in her voice betraying her.

"I don't like liars, Y/N. Do you want to try that again?" He scolded, and she moved back in her chair. She knew she was supposed to be taking the blame for this, she was the cover-up, but she knew she wanted him more.

"I, uh, I do." Her eyes were glued to her feet, and he smiled. "Look at me when you speak." He told her, and she hesitated, but held eye contact as he sat down. "I didn't... I didn't do that." She motioned to the picture, not wanting to look at it again.

"But you know who did. Can you tell me?" His tone was different now. It was still stern, but it had a softer edge. He was coaxing the answering out of her, rewarding her good behavior by being gentle.

"No.." She shook her head slowly, now staring at the wall behind him. He raised a brow and frowned. "Why is that?" He prodded, and her teeth sunk into her lip.

She cleared her throat and tried to upkeep her tough demeanor. "I don't know anything. You don't have anything to charge me with so I want to leave." She held eye contact with him, and he gave a pity grin.

He raised his wrist and pulled down his sleeve, revealing the deep, crimson slice she had inflicted earlier. "Assaulting law enforcement is a charge, and if you don't cooperate I'll be sure to press that." He warned and she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

Her cheeks were pink and she looked nervous, with more than just her current situation. "Talk to me." He said as he stood up and moved in front of her, kneeling down.

She choked on her words, tears beginning to well in her eyes. "I didn't know... I mean, I know now but I didn't know this is what he made me cover for. This c-could ruin my life." Her voice was barely a whisper, tears falling into her lap.

He reached up and wiped her cheek with his thumb, then carefully taking her hands from her lap and squeezing them. "We know Daniel did the digital work, who committed the murder." He questioned further and she broke.

She started crying, the most vulnerable they've seen her. She confessed everything she knew, Spencer occasionally having to calm her down so she could breathe.

After she spilled her guts, they had a name. Anthony Velasquez, 30 year old male. Spencer quickly got up, picking the file up to leave the room. She knew he would leave. but she felt used. She didn't know why.

Reid paused at the door and turned to her. "For your cooperation, you are free to go. You might have to stick around for a bit to answer more questions, though." She nodded and wiped her eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

He walked back over to her and helped her stand up before wrapping her in a tight hug. "You did great," He rubbed her back and cradled her head in his free hand.

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

A few days had gone by since the incident. Y/N was home alone, laying in her bed and processing the last few days. Suddenly, her phone rang and she jumped.

She fumbled it in her hands for a moment before she pressed accept. "Hello?" She croaked, her throat dry. "Hey, it's Spencer. I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner with me?" He asked casually. On the other end, he was at his desk, fidgeting with a pen.

"Oh. I mean, sure, yes. Yes, of course. Not of course, but yes, I would like that." She rambled for a moment, her cheeks warm. She was flustered and a bit nervous. She had assumed she was just another case, but maybe not...

"Okay great, I'll pick you up at eight. Text me the address. Bye." She didn't have to see him to hear his smile, which only made hers grow. "Okay, bye." She checked her home screen, realizing she only had two hours to get ready.

She had showered in record time, carefully selecting an outfit afterwards. She couldn't decide between two dresses. Both were red, and both ended at her mid-thigh. The only difference was the texture. One was silk, and one was covered in lace designs.

She walked to her mirror and pressed them to her body. She ended up deciding the lace dress, sliding it on and returning to the closet. She selected a matching pair of red heels and put them on, twirling in front of the mirror in triumph.

She then sat down at her vanity and brushed her hair out, painting her nails and doing her makeup. She hadn't been on a date in awhile, so she was a little nervous.

She felt pathetic, staring at her phone and waiting for him to arrive. Once it neared 8:15, she wondered if it was a joke, if he even liked her. She sat up on her bed and thought for a moment, her insecurities bombarding her mind.

All of her worries seemed to fade when she heard a knock at her door. She quickly made her way across the apartment, opening her door carefully. She was greeted by Spencer, he was wearing a nice suit and dress shoes.

She smiled and opened the door fully. "Hi, sorry. I forgot my bag, give me a second." She said as she turned away from the door, leaving it ajar. He stepped inside and looked around, finding her choice of decor adorable. He thought she was adorable.

She came back from her room, and he looked her up and down. She looked magnificent. "Sorry, I didn't know if it was a nice restaurant or not.. I feel like an idiot, I haven't been on a date in who knows how long. Sorry, I'm rambling, I get really nervous. I mean, I am really nervous. Not because you make me nervous, but I mean you do, but-" He cut her off, striding forward and cupping her face.

He kissed her. She froze for a second but quickly leaned into it. They stumbled back onto a wall and he caged her in, devouring her lips. She tasted heavenly, and he never wanted to let go.

She however, needed to breathe and gently pulled back. She giggled when she saw him, her red lipstick smudged all over his mouth. "What?" He questioned, and she reached up and swiped his lips. "You have my lipstick all over your face." They both laughed and he bit his lip, moving his hand to her mouth. His thumb pulled down her bottom lip and he smiled.

"Pretty girl." He whispered before leaning back down and connecting their lips again. He tapped her hip with his finger, letting her know he was about to pick her up, and he did.

She gasped and looked down at him, her hair falling down her shoulders. "What about dinner?" She breathed out, a smile spread across her face. He leaned up and kissed her, "I have a better idea." He murmured against her lips, his hands travelling up her back, pushing her dress up. He carried her to her bedroom, kissing up her neck. She gasped and ran her fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands.

He groaned and tossed her onto the bed, a loud yelp escaping Y/N, followed by a giggle. Spencer looked down at her and bit his lip, "You're so beautiful." He praised, climbing on top of her and claiming her lips again.

My pretty girl

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

A/N: I didn't proofread yet, I just kinda rushed it. I COULDN'T HELP IT I WANTED SPENCER REID!! I hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading!

Follow, reblog, and like! Send requests <3

216 notes · View notes

acowardinmordor · 1 year

Text

You Left Me, You Miss Me

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

@mc-i-r is writing another version of this and tagged me and my brain woke up, so here ya go. This is almost all dialogue, and my new love for Mrs Buckley.

----

"Hey Steve-o! Get in here!" Robin yelled.

"Thought you were talking to your mom?" Steve shouted back.

"I am! That's why you have to come here! The cord won't reach!"

Steve hauled himself up from the corner of the kitchen where he was reorganizing things for the third time since they moved in last week. There was a pile of boxes they really needed to open in the hallway, and his mattress was still against the wall, but he kept going back to the kitchen, trying to make it work despite there being only one pull out drawer. One. They noticed before they signed the lease, but they both assumed they could make it work somehow if they just tried hard enough. But. Third time's the charm.

Flopping onto the thrifted couch next to his best friend, he leaned against her head, and greeted, "Hi Mrs Buckley, how are you?"

"Now why can't you answer the phone so politely, Robin? Who raised you to be so impolite?"

"Yeah, mom, I know you love Steve more than you love me, you tell me every time you talk to him, now can you say it again please?"

"Yes, well, like I was saying, I don't really know why they were all so upset about it, but I didn't want to overstep, so I didn't tell them anything. Not really. Only that you had moved and that you were fine. It's not like that's a secret. Then I noticed that they didn't know about that and so I didn't answer the rest of the questions, which really only made them more upset, but I think they were upset with me, not with the pair of you, so that's perfectly fine, none of them were nearly as vicious as Robin was when she was fifteen and decided she--"

"Mom!"

Steve giggled. Robin's rambling came from her mother, that was certain, and it was worse when they were on the phone. They fed on each other's talking. Like that snake thing.

"Right, yes. Well, Steve, like I told her, those boys, the ones you used to babysit for, they came around to ask if I knew where you were," Mrs Buckley finally said.

Robin grabbed his hand with the one not holding the phone, and pressed her forehead harder against his as they crowded the handset. Steve didn't think he'd reacted, but they didn't need anything as boring as a visible reaction to know each other.

"They said that they went into the video store and saw someone new at the desk, and when they heard that the two of you were no longer working there -- Apparently that manager of yours had some unpleasant words on the subject. You know I never liked him? The first time I stepped in there he asked me if I was still married? Not like that, of course, but it was still very strange. I didn't like it. And according to Robin he was always like that, wasn't he, Steven?"

"Yeah, he was pretty weird," Steve answered numbly.

"Well, that Keith fellow told them you were no longer employed there and that curly haired one demanded to know where you were employed. Since its not like he knew even if he would have told them, those boys went looking for themselves. I guess they went to your house first, Steven, and must have seen the for sale sign. I don't know what your parents are thinking, selling with the market like it is right now, but no one has ever made either of your parents listen to a single word of sense in their lives."

"Mom, the point?"

"Yes, sorry dear, like I told Robin, eventually it must have occurred to them that the two of you would be in the same place and thought to come by. Well. I say come by. First they called, and your father, you know how he is, simply said you were no longer in residence and hung up on them. He thinks he's so funny. Oh! Make sure you remember to call next Tuesday to congratulate him. It's his first day as the lead manager in the office. Oh no, wait, does it count as long distance for you? Never mind, I'll place the call so you don't have to worry about it."

"Mrs Buckley? You were saying something about Dustin?" He was proud that his voice was steady. They left Hawkins eleven days ago. They started packing two weeks before that. His parents put the house on the market around the same time. It wasn't until today that they noticed.

"Yes, that's the one. So Dustin didn't take your father's humor well, and he and his friends came by earlier this evening."

"Wait, evening?" Steve interrupted, "It was dark? They were biking around in the dark? In this weather?"

"Oh goodness no, that young man drove them. The one that was in the papers that the pair of you helped last year. He was much more polite than they were. Well, once I told them that you'd moved, they all started shouting over each other, I was sure that Ms Wickley was going to come over and scold them."

"I'm sorry, ma'am--"

"Oh you don't need to ma'am me Steven, I've told you that."

"Mom, he was just trying to be polite when he asked you to please get to the point, so can you, you know, try to get to the point some time tonight. You're paying for the call, but jeez."

"Oh yes. Well it occurred to me while they were all shouting that if they were your friends like they were saying, they would have known that you were moving. So when they managed to calm down enough I could hear a thing I said, I refused to tell them anything else. It's none of their business if you don't want it to be. And that Dustin boy said that you were his best friend, right in the same sentence he said he hadn't seen you in a month. But, I wasn't entirely sure if I was wrong about it, so I did promise I would ask you if you wanted me to pass on your information."

"Good job, mom, you finally got back to it. This is why I had you come over here, so you could hear that last part. I should have just asked you. Do you want my mom to give them our number or address or anything?" Robin had rolled her eyes over her mom's rambling, completely unaware she was just as terrible. But then she stared at him, concerned and outraged and protective and sad. God, he didn't know what he'd do without her.

"Did they ask?" Steve said.

"Ask? I don't think a single one of them knows how to ask anything. They certainly shouted a lot of demands. If you don't want me to tell them, I have no complaints about being the villain in this story. After everything you've done for my girl, being there for her before she even told me, and now making sure she's safe from any kind of trouble up there, you're such a perfect - what was the - beard? I think that's what I saw in that article in that magazine. Oh, no, the Zine, I ordered. But even without all that, I'll happily shut the door in their faces every day for a year if that's what you want done."

Steve's next breath stuttered, and that was all Robin needed to see.

"Hang on mom, I'm going to put the phone down, don't hang up, we'll be back." She sat the handset on the couch, then dragged a throw blanket over it to muffle their voices completely.

"You okay there or do I need to make a snap decision about which is going to be our household's vomit bowl?" He pushed her shoulder half-heartedly. "Okay, yeah, we both know it's gonna be the one with the cow on it. But you okay there, Stevie?"

"I'm fine."

"No you aren't."

"I'm fine."

She gasped, "You would lie to your soulmate? To her face?"

"I'm not! I'm fine! I just... I don't know, Robs."

Robin watched for a second as all of the muck of emotions bubbled inside him. Then she, as she always did, understood him.

"You want to say no. You want to tell her not to let them know where we are, but you're also freaking out because the brats come find you whenever It's back."

And because for a second, he desperately hoped that they missed him, or wanted to call so they could apologize for the last months. She didn't need to say that part. He half shrugged, sort of nodded, and bobbed his chin towards the throw blanket.

"You sure, Dingus?"

"Yeah."

"Is it gonna be Hopper or Joyce?" she faux wondered as she grabbed the phone from its prison. "Mom? Hi, back. Yeah, thank you. I'm gonna hand the phone to Steve now."

She didn't move away, but she didn't share the earpiece.

"Hi Mrs Buckley. I guess I -- could I ask a couple questions first?"

"Of course dear. What would you like to know?"

"Did any of them say anything weird or really specific?"

"Like what?"

"Like, about the mall, or last spring, or, bats, or uh, did they say anything about their dungeons and dragons game?"

"No. Why would they?"

Steve forced his shoulders to relax. El said it was done, but four years of it coming back meant he'd never fully trust that as true.

"No reason I guess."

"Well. That Munson boy did ask me about a radio right at the end. After the others stomped back to the driveway. He came back and he seemed - well he asked about a radio. And I said you certainly had a radio in your car, but I think he may have been talking about something else. Is that what you meant?"

"Okay, uh. Yeah. Thank you. I guess."

"So what would you like me to tell them next time I see one of them? If you'd like to take your time about it, you can. They were quite worked up about it, but it's a little ridiculous to act like they were owed something if they didn't even notice you two moving. You knocked over a stop sign with that rental truck."

Steve laughed. Couldn't help it. "I really can't wait, ma'am. They'll be back tomorrow morning to bother you." He gave Robin a look she immediately returned. Even without hearing the other half, she understood how true that was.

"Of course they won't, they have school," Mrs Buckley argued.

"Yeah, just means they'll be at your door even earlier."

"Well that's rude."

"Yeah, that's them. So, um. You can be rude back if you want. Don't, uh, you don't need to answer their questions. If you don't mind that they're not going to take it well."

Mrs Buckley laughed, loud and cackling for a moment, making the phone go staticky. "Oh dear, it would be my absolute pleasure to be rude right back to them. I'm much better at it. Anything else?"

"Yeah, you know Jim Hopper?" The resounding silence promised she was giving him the same judgemental look Robin was. "Sorry, that was dumb. But can you give him our number? Not to share with them, just so he has it. And, funny story about radios, but, the one that -- that that guy asked about is in your hall closet. Top shelf, next to the popcorn tin. Give Hopper that too?"

"Certainly, anything I should tell him, or should I ask to return the phone to my ridiculous child that you're generous enough to live with so I can say good night?"

For some reason, it made him think about the returns box at the store. A handle pulled open, the movie dropped inside, and nothing else needed. No one had to explain why they were giving back their copy of Breakfast Club. They had it for a while, hopefully they enjoyed it, and then when it was done, when they didn't need it anymore, or when it was overdue, when they kept it longer than they should have, costing them more money to keep around than it was worth, when they decided they were done with it, they didn't write a letter and explain why they--

"No. But, just. Tell him its for emergencies or something. Thank you, bye, or, goodnight ma'am, Mrs Buckley, uh, here's Robs. Bye."

He climbed off the couch as he shoved the phone at her, and headed for the window in his yet to be unpacked room. Rob would kill him in his sleep if he had a cigarette, but if he had any, he'd have taken the risk.

The glass was so cold it was painful against his forehead when he leaned into it, and he watched the little flurries of snow on the street kicked up by the wind. They didn't even notice for a few weeks. They'd quit Family Video a week before they left, and he knew the kids watched at least a few every weekend. They must have gone in, multiple times, and just, not noticed. Or not cared.

He wasn't sure which of those was worse.

He wasn't sure why it hurt when he made his peace with it weeks and weeks ago. It hadn't ached so vividly since the fall. Worst of all was the shock of concern for them, thinking they were out on their bikes in the dark and the snow. Then the relief that Eddie drove them. The feeling was huge enough to eclipse anything else until he knew they were safe.

Hadn't seen them in a month, barely seen them before that, and his first instinct was still to drop everything and grabs his keys. He was two hours away, and his brain was itchy to go drive by and check on them. They didn't need him to do that. They didn't want him to.

And based on how his stomach lurched when he heard that they didn't know he'd left, he didn't think it would do him any favors to go back. Hop and Joyce knew how to handle them if they started to do anything too risky, and the kids were practically glued to Eddie's side.

They weren't his to look after.

"Stop staring out the window like your lover is lost on the moors," Robin complained, wrapping him in a hug from behind.

"I have no idea what that means, Robs."

"Good, I'll explain it to you. Come on, lets go, we've got a kitchen to reorganize. I already started stuff for popcorn and hot chocolate. Lets gooooo, you're too heavy for me to carry, hup two."

Steve snorted and let her drag him away.

"I thought we were going to get my room set up, so I wouldn't have to share with you again?"

She gave him that look. That one that was fond and frustrated and sassy as shit. The one that said she wasn't going to let him get away with being dumb, but wasn't going to call him on it.

"It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. You can share with me for a while longer. Now do the hot chocolate, and don't skimp on the whipped cream. We bought that can on sale and its going to go bad any second. Just use all of it. Directly into our mouths if we cant get it balance on the mug. Don't want to waste it, and we deserve it. I'm on popcorn duty, and then we're going to defeat this puzzle, Harrington. We outsmarted the Russians, we can outsmart the dishes!"

Shit. He sniffled as he followed her orders.

He was so damn grateful he still had her.

-----

Next>>

Still don't do tag lists. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#You Left Me - You Miss Me #Steve Harrington #Platonic Stobin forever #Steddie eventually #still not making things better #cause that is really not my specialty #and apparently Rob came out before they left

930 notes · View notes

l0v3tast3 · 1 year

Note

plz write a lil something for pervy older bf! toji <3

i got halfway through writing this and then decided i didn't like it and started all over so that's why this took awhile lmao but i loved writing this ＼(≧▽≦)／ i love nasty mean but in a nice way toji he's just so. mwah he's so hot i'd let him mooch off of me

✎ tags: mdni!, smut, female reader, age gap (reader is 18/19 + toji is late 30s/early 40s), public s3x, toys, edging, size difference, size kink, toji records n takes pics of u, praise kink, degradation, toji uses ur underwear as a gag, bondage, overstimulation, lil bit of obsessive!toji

✎ word count: 1.3k words (not proofread)

masterlist | requests

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!toji who takes you out on dates just to show you off. you'll whine about how people always stare at the two of you and give you judgmental looks, but toji just shushes you and tells you to put on a pretty dress.

✧ ˖ ° he always makes sure you get a booth in the back of the restaurant and takes his phone out as soon as you're both seated. dinner always starts with him opening the app that controlled the vibrator that keeps nudging against your clit, but he only turns it on when your server comes to talk to you (unless there's a booth next to you with people in it, then he tortures you with it).

✧ ˖ ° of course toji doesn't make you cum with it, not for the entire time he drags out dinner. "so impatient to leave, do y'not wanna spend time with me, doll? we're havin' such a good time right now! hm, wha'd'ya think, should we get dessert? they have that cake you like, look!" he watches you squirm with a smile, pretending he's oblivious to your little whines and pleading eyes.

✧ ˖ ° once you're finally done he nearly shoves you into the backseat of his car, pulling you over his lap, pressing his hand flat over your back to keep you lying down. your little dress is hiked up and underwear pushed to the side. the vibrator falls onto his lap while he shoves two thick fingers into you, leaning down to speak in a hushed, condescending tone.

✧ ˖ ° "ya just can't shut up, can ya princess? poor bastard had a fuckin' hard-on the second he saw your face. heh, can't blame him, i got such a pretty baby. y'just can't cover up how you're feelin', do i gotta start trainin' you on how to be quiet? that'd be fun, wouldn't it?"

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!toji who's camera roll is mostly pictures and videos taken of him fucking you, fingering you, you dressed up for him, you trying to suck his dick... any way he has ever had you, he has something to remember it with (he will literally delete apps to make more storage for you).

✧ ˖ ° he loves it when you get camera shy; he thinks it's adorable and showers you in praise while he tells you to smile around the fingers he shoves in your mouth. whenever you even look like you think the pictures and videos won't look good, he carries you over to the nearest mirror and fucks you in front of it until you admit just how gorgeous you are. it delights toji that that's your biggest problem with it, not that he had unending amounts of porn with you as the star on his phone.

✧ ˖ ° there's videos of everything. his favorites are the ones where you're absolutely brainless, covered in sweat and his cum, your pretty makeup ruined with tears and smeared on the sheets. toji always makes sure his phone picks up the obscene noises of his dick driving in and out of you while you arch your back and weakly press your hands against his abs. "so beautiful like this f'me, all for me, my little girl, y'gonna cum again? fuck- haa, c'mon princess, cum all over my cock, shit! so fuckin' tight, y'look so pretty cumming all over my cock, think this is the best one we got yet!"

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!toji who occasionally shows up at your window in the middle of night, jamming himself through it while you're whisper-shouting that your parents are asleep down the hall. he's already got his hands on you, though, and it doesn't take long before he's balling up your underwear and shoving it into your mouth, already having you on the floor so he can eat you out. whenever you get too noisy he'll stop, pinching your thigh or your ass and asking you if you really wanted your parents to find a man the same age as them fucking you with his tongue.

✧ ˖ ° and he isn't nice when he finally buries himself balls deep in you, either. he'll flip you over and lift you by your neck until you're kneeling with your back pressed into his chest. one hand covers your entire lower face, making sure to muffle the whiny moans you can't help letting out, while the other goes down to your clit to rub tight circles into it.

✧ ˖ ° there's always a tiny bit of panic in the way you claw at his unyielding arms because toji always faces you straight towards your door (which, of course, doesn't lock). he finds it just so darling how you lean your head back to look up at him with a mix of worry and overwhelming pleasure. he just grins and coos down at you, patting his fingers against your cheek a little too roughly.

✧ ˖ ° "'s okay sweetie, y'just gotta be quiet f'me, can ya do that? gonna be a good little girl, right? hm, what, is rubbin' your clit too much? i don't care, sweetie, you're gonna take what i give ya. hah, really gonna cum already? pussy's already so fuckin' wet, they're gonna wake up just from me fuckin' ya, princess!"

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!toji who practically has you move in with him. he just loves his pretty baby so much, he wants to be around you all the time! he'll keep you for days at a time, making you lie to your parents about being with different friends (he makes you sit in his lap and fingers you while you're on the phone with them).

✧ ˖ ° it's not kidnapping, per say, but every time you mention going home you somehow end up with your hands tied to his headboard. if he suspects you're still even thinking about leaving, he edges you for nearly an hour until you're crying, promising him you won't leave through whines and hiccups.

✧ ˖ ° he'll leave indents of his teeth in your soft skin as he comes up to you, his titan-sized body blocking you from seeing or feeling anything else but him as he starts pushing into you. the smile that spreads across his face when you nearly cum as his balls pressed into your ass is just sadistic, even more so as he watches you squirm and struggle against your bindings.

✧ ˖ ° "aw, poor baby, y'want me to untie your hands? y'wanna touch me? i don't think ya deserve to, y'were so mean, sayin' ya wanted to leave. really hurt my feelings, princess," he says, cupping your face and rubbing the tears from your cheeks. his hips are moving back and forth so slowly, just slow enough that it keeps you right on the edge, and his grin nearly hurts as he looks down at your glazed eyes and bitten lips. "think ya deserve to now, sweetie? did ya learn your lesson?"

✧ ˖ ° toji listens to you babble apologies, "'m gonna be- be good, promise toji- ah-h, promise, i promise, please!" over and over until he decides to take pity on you. he'll draw his hips back one more time being he's slamming into you, sitting up so he can grip onto your thighs as leverage to fuck into you roughly. you're cumming in seconds, body spasming as your eyes roll back and every part of you is overwhelmed by the behemoth of a man using your body as a fucktoy.

✧ ˖ ° he won't stop until you nearly pass out, stuffing load after load of thick cum into your abused pussy and berating you when it spills out. at the end of it all, when he's coming down from his last high and you're coming back to semi-consciousness, he'll kiss your forehead and murmur that he hopes you learned your lesson.

#jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x female reader #reader insert #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #— lilly writes! ♡

1K notes · View notes

jamespotterismydaddy · 7 months

Text

Sailor Boy

tom bennett x reader

A/N: i haven't actually watched the show but i had this idea and really wanted to write it

WARNINGS: smut!, tom is a little pushy, size kink (if you squint)

WORD COUNT: 1,416 words

The knock at your window frightens you. Your parents are only two doors down the hall but you can’t imagine who would be climbing up to your window at this ungodly hour.

Then you hear it, his voice.

“Open up, love. It’s bloody freezing out here.”

It can’t be.

You rush to your window, opening it up wide to see Tom Bennett hanging on with a playboy grin on his face.

“Took you long enough.” He teases as he climbs inside. You throw your arms around him right away.

“I didn’t think you’d be back for months!” You exclaim in a whisper-shout. Your father never liked it when Tom was sneaking into your room.

“Well i’m back early, doll. Wanted to surprise you.” He murmurs into your hair as his arms squeeze around your waist. Nothing has ever felt quite as good as having you in his arms.

“That’s why you didn’t respond to my last letter?” You ask. “God, Tommy. You had worried out of my bloody mind.” You look at him with sorrow in your eyes. “I almost let myself think you were dead.”

“I’m sorry to frighten you, love. You know I never meant to, but i’m here now.” He strokes your cheek with the back of his two fingers. He clearly means it.

“I never knew how much I needed my best friend.” You say mournfully.

“Thought about you every day when I was gone.” He whispers.

His fingers trail up and down your waist. “I thought about you every day too.”

“I barely got back an hour ago, wanted you to be the first person I saw.” His words make a blush rise to your cheeks.

“Explains the sailor uniform. You clearly haven’t washed it in a while.” You tease.

“You gonna talk to someone who served your country like that? You should be thanking me for my service.” He says with mock self-righteousness.

“Thank you.” You say nonchalantly.

“That's it? I think I deserve a bit more of a reward than that.” He says as a cheeky grin makes its way onto his face.

“What kinda reward are you wanting, soldier boy?” You ask, sensing his innuendo.

“Just a little kiss, doll.” He replies and you roll your eyes before quickly pecking his cheek.

“Happy?”

“I meant on the lips, darling. You knew that.” He lifts your chin up with his hand and brushes his thumb over your soft lips.

“Don’t…” You pull your head away and take a step back. “You know i’m not your girl, Thomas Bennett.” He always knows he’s in trouble when you use his full name like that. He hates when you’re upset with him… but he likes teasing you more.

“I just want one little kiss, then i’ll leave ya alone.” He gives you his best puppy-dog eyes with his baby blues.

“Then go down to the bar and pick a girl there.”

“I don’t wanna go down to the bar when I already got the prettiest girl in England right in front of me.” He places each of his hands on your waist as he gazes down at you.

“You shouldn’t be such a flirt with your closest friend.” You murmur.

“You shouldn’t deny a navy-man his one wish after coming back from war.” He returns.

“We both know you won’t stop at one kiss.”

“I will if that’s what you really want.”

You think on his words for a moment, nibbling on your lip that he’s so desperate to taste.

“One kiss.”

He grins and you before pulling you closer with his strong hands and then lifting one so he can guide your head until your lips meet his. It’s nothing of an innocent peck. No, this kiss is much more. He pushes his tongue past your lips and in your hazy state, you weren’t stopping him. Tom knows he might not get another chance like this so he kisses you with all the passion he can muster, hoping that it keeps you coming back for more… but it all ends too soon when you push him away gently, just enough so he gets the idea.

“What’s wrong?” He asks in a low, almost drowsy tone.

“You promised.”

“I did… but I can tell you wanna kiss me more.” He looks at you with such desire in his eyes.

“I won’t be another notch on your belt, Tommy.” You say firmly.

“A notch on my belt? Is that what you think?” He looks at you, clearly upset. “Do you not know how much you mean to me?”

“You just… sleep with a lot of girls.”

“I don’t only want to sleep with you, love. You’re so much more to me than that. I wanna make you my girl.” He says earnestly, looking you right in the eyes as he speaks.

“But I just thought-”

“Doll, your letters were the only thing keeping me sane when I was away. A girl like you is no one night stand.”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. Is that why you’ve never let me kiss you before?”

You feel yourself blush even harder. “Yeah.” Your eyes fall to the floor but he lifts your chin back up right away.

“Let me show me how much I love you.”

He waits for a moment until you finally nod. He then closes the space between your lips and kisses you with just as fervour as before. You whine into his mouth as his hands squeeze at your waist and before you know it, one of those hands is sliding up your skirt. You let out a gasp as he begins to rub you through the thin fabric of your panties. You never knew a man could bestow such pleasure.

“Mmm, Tommy.” You whimper out.

“You like that, pretty girl?” He rubs your pearl a little more firmly now. “Why don’t you take those panties off and lie on your bed for me?”

You climb back on your bed quickly and he smirks at your eagerness. You pull your panties off from under your nightgown and he lifts the hem of the garment so he can see your glistening cunny.

“Knew you wanted it.” He smirks before beginning to rub your pearl directly now. As he does, he uses his other hand to free himself from his trousers. His fingers slip inside of you now as he starts stroking his cock.

“I want you, Tommy… all of you.” No other words could have been more perfect for him to hear.

“This is your first time, right?” He asks slowly as he lines up with your entrance.

You nod.

“I’ll be real gentle with you then.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your lips as he slides in. It does sting ever so slightly but nothing akin to pain even with how big he is.

“You can um… continue.” He laughs when you can’t seem to find the words.

“I’ll take good care of you, doll.” He murmurs as he starts to thrust in and out of you.

You’ve never felt anything quite like it before. You’ve pleasured yourself with your fingers before but it’s never felt this good. He seems to hit every spot inside of you that needs attention.

“You feel so good squeezing around me like that.” He praises as he picks up the pace. It feels like he’s fucking into you even deeper now.

“I like it, Tommy.” You whine.

“I knew you would, baby.” He presses fluttering kisses to your neck that contrast very nicely with how he’s pounding into you. He goes back to rubbing your pearl, wanting you to get as close to your peak as he is.

“I think i’m gonna…” You breathe out.

“Do it, darling. Cum for me.” He says and immediately notices how your walls contract around him.

He fucks your hard through your high, until your squirming beneath him, and then finally pulls out to cum on your tummy, just below where your nightgown rests.

“You did such a good job for me. Made me feel so good.” He whispers as he collapses on top of you. You start to run your fingers through his hair. As much as you would like to savour this moment, you know you can’t.

“My parents will be up soon, Tommy. I can’t imagine how they’d react if they saw the state of us right now.”

“Five more minutes.” He grumbles into your chest.

You sigh. “Fine… five more minutes.”

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

#tom bennett #tom bennett fluff #tom bennett smut #tom bennett x reader #world on fire #ewanverse #ewan mitchell

286 notes · View notes

thehandmaidenofcreativity · 3 months

Note

Long idea so bare with me. You are a college student (fem pov) and you and you family are visiting your uncle for the summer. Your uncle just happenes to be JY Park (JYP) so you go to South Korea and that’s when you meet the group your uncle owns… stray kids. Now your dad really wants you to go on a date with one of them but you think that stray kids are actually stuck up and entitled so your like nope.your like ya there very fucking hot but…Then you get to know them and there not just hot as hell (and horny) but also good people. But your angry at your father so you don’t want to do what he asked but stray kids are so hot, so you sneak out to there dorm to do some not so kid friendly stuff if you get my drift. You can build on from that but that’s just an idea. Love your stuff <3 keep writing!

Wow hi! I was so shocked (and happy!) to get this ask. It was a little daunting, but I actually really enjoyed working on it. So thank you:) I hope you end up seeing this, Anon!

Comments: This is part one in what will likely be an ongoing series in which the reader will eventually be involved with all 8 members, but for now, we're starting with Seungmin and Hyunjin.

Rating: Explicit/18+

WC: 7.5k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

“Can you at least pretend you’re happy to be here?” Your mom is giving you the look again. “Jin-Young said he wants to take you to his company. Maybe he can give you a summer internship, so you’ll still have something to put on your resume.”

“Ah yes,” you sigh and roll your eyes. You know that JYPE is a huge company with great artists, but you also know from experience that idols aren’t your cup of tea. Working there doesn’t sound like a great time. “Nothing like some good ole nepotism to boost your resume. Plus, I’m not even majoring in anything related to the music business.”

“Well honey, if you’re determined to be upset about this, then it’s not going to be a good summer.” She pats you on the shoulder, signaling that the conversation is over. “I just hope you’ll try to keep an open mind.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

The next day, after breakfast with your parents and uncle, you all head to JYPE. JYP gives you all a small tour, introducing you to the different groups currently in the practice rooms. The last group you meet is Stray Kids. Like the others, they immediately stop what they’re doing to come greet your uncle. Standing in a line like that, glistening from the sweat of their hard work; you stare shamelessly. You’ve seen a few of their videos, so you already knew they looked good. They’re even hotter in person. Even more so, because they aren’t cookie cutter copies of each other; they each have unique features that catch your eye. Still, you know what tends to hide behind pretty faces and hot bodies, so you don’t plan on thinking about them much once you leave this room.

JYP introduces you, and you’re met with the same fake, polite greeting from each of them. Then he throws a curveball. “So my niece will be spending a lot of time with you in the next few weeks; take good care of her.”

You try not to look too shocked and shoot a glance at your mom. She gives you a smile and a shrug as if this isn’t totally her doing. As your uncle begins discussing something with a couple members and your dad, you take her to the side to talk privately.

“Mom! I’m going to be ‘spending time’ with them? Doing what? I told you I didn’t need a pity internship!” You whisper-shout as soon as you’re sure no one will hear you.

“Oh, you’re being a bit dramatic.” She shakes her head at you. “This will be a good experience for you! It’ll even relate to your major; you’re going to be helping them with their English, kinda like a tutor. Your future students are going to think you’re so cool being related to JYP; you’ll be able to bond with them even better when you can tell them you’ve worked with their favorite idols.”

She’s not entirely wrong, but you still don’t love the idea. Idols are the worst.

Soon it’s time for the guys to get back to practice, and your family’s tour ends in JYP’s office. Along the way, your dad gushes over Stray Kids, and you try not to look annoyed. You learn that SKZ is getting ready for their next world tour and some of them are feeling like they need to get back into the habit of speaking English so they can feel more confident interacting with their fans.

“I was happy when your mother asked if there was anything for you to do around here. I think it’ll be a good way for you to stay busy and make friends while you’re here in Korea. And of course, we’ll get to spend so much more time together if you’re here in the building every day.” Your uncle looks so pleased; you don’t want to bring him down.

“I look forward to it.” You hope your smile doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “I really appreciate you giving me this opportunity.”

In the car on your way home, your dad kind of shocks you. “Honey, I think you should go on a date with one of those boys. Jin-Young speaks so highly of them, and they’re very polite and intelligent. Just the kind of boy we’d be happy to see you with.”

Your mom agrees immediately. “And they’re so talented! After I talked to my brother about your internship, I watched a few of their music videos. Not to mention, they’re all quite easy on the eyes.”

“I don’t care how cute they are, mom!” Though you certainly wouldn’t kick any of them out of bed. “I would never date any of them.”

“Just think about it, honey.” Your dad isn’t going to let this go. “See how you feel after spending a few days working with them.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

The next day, you show up to JYPE bright and early, wishing you were still in bed and dreading the day you’re about to spend with a bunch of hot assholes. When you arrive at the studio they’re starting out in, half the group is already there. Their leader, Bang Chan, greets you immediately and gestures for you to sit on the couch in the back of the room. The others are so engrossed in each other that they don’t even seem to notice you.

“So as you may know, Felix and I are also fluent in English since we’re both from Australia. The rest of the kids have various levels of fluency and confidence in their skills.” You have to actively remind yourself not to swoon over his accent. “It’ll be helpful to have another person to speak casually with and maybe correct pronunciation on some words. Sometimes they have questions about little grammar things, so they may ask you. I think that’s all? That sound okay to you?”

“Yeah, sounds fine.” Anything else you might say is lost when four rowdy guys walk in the studio. They’re laughing and a couple of them start yelling. This might be a long day. One of them - you probably should’ve made sure you knew who was who before coming today - starts handing out iced coffee to the ones who were here first. He surprises you by handing you one as well. “Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to get me anything.”

He gives you a big smile. Those dimples are dangerous. “You’re welcome! We didn’t want to leave you out.”

His accent is cute, too. Which one is he? You’re about to try to run through their names in your head when Bang Chan claps his hands and yells, “Alright!”

The eight of them are suddenly lining up in front of you. After a ‘1, 2’ from Bang Chan, in unison, they say, “Step out. Hello, we are Stray Kids.” You weren’t expecting the full greeting like this again.

“We know that this was kind of sprung on you, so we thought it would be a good idea to introduce ourselves again. So I am Bang Chan, though you can just call me Chan, or Chris, if you want.” Chan gestures to the guy next to him, and they sound off from there. You’ve got all their names down now. Though, of course it’s all stage names (for those who don't go by their first names), which feels a bit like keeping you at arm's length. Hopefully talking with them won’t be too annoying, but you’re worried about the idea of just hanging out with them all day; there’s only so much time you’re willing to spend with a bunch of douchebags.

Chan calls for Hyunjin to head into the recording booth, then sends Lee Know and I.N, the one with the coffee, over to talk with you. They somewhat awkwardly ask you to go over the pronunciation of the English lines they’ll be recording today; these two must be the ones least comfortable with English. Still, they do well. And as much as you hated that your mom landed you with this ‘job,’ you have to admit that this is actually a worthwhile way to spend your time. It is the kind of experience that would look good while applying for teaching jobs in the future.

After a fair amount of practice, Lee Know heads to the recording booth, and I.N goes to join a couple of the other guys. You think Han is coming to talk to you, but he just flops over on the couch for a nap. So you’re back to just awkwardly sitting in a room full of dudes that are ignoring you. Great.

As the session goes on, you marvel at the way they work. They work so hard, recording and re-recording again and again until they’re satisfied. You do end up having conversations with most of them, mostly about their album and whichever of them was currently in the booth. Seeing their passion, you start to feel like they might not be as stuck up as you were thinking; they’re just focused and dedicated.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

You dip out after recording; your uncle asked you to come have an early lunch with him. By the time you return to Stray Kids, they’re in a large practice room. Once again, you’re sitting on a couch in the back of the room, just watching them interact, feeling like a piece of the furniture.

When the music starts, you look up from your phone and… damn. They all can dance really well. Like it’s hard for you to pick out the main dancers at first.

They’re all lip syncing or singing along quietly as they move through the steps, then Han starts full out singing. You thought most idols struggled to sing when they dance like this; that’s why they play their tracks during their concerts. He sounds phenomenal, though, nearly as good as he did in the recording booth. And he sets off the others, every other line someone sings it out loud, and once again they all do it so well. Maybe you know less about idols than you thought.

When they finish Chan comes over with a cocky grin on his face. “What did you think?”

With dimples like that and that accent, you know he must be insufferable. Still, he hasn’t given you a reason to be rude. “It was super cool. I didn’t expect to enjoy watching you practice so much. You’re all such great dancers.”

You were too complimentary; you can tell by the way he puffs up. You see the two behind him smile and fistbump, and decide you don’t need to stick around for the douchiness to come out. “Anyway, I’m gonna head out, unless you guys will need me again?”

Chan nods, and with that you’re out the door.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

As the week goes on, you realize you shouldn’t have taken such a hard stance with your parents. They check in every evening, asking about how working with ‘those cute boys’ was and which one you think you might want to go out with so your mom can set it up with JYP. Every day you insist that you’re not at all interested in stuck up idols, and every day you feel like you’re lying more and more.

You’ve had the opportunity to witness a lot while you’ve been with Stray Kids. They invite you to lunch and to watch practices in your off time, and you’re not going to pass up getting free meals and witnessing the beauty of their movement. With that, you’re around them when they’re not in work mode as well, seeing how kind and conscientious they are. They seem to truly care for the staff around them; they’re constantly doing things for each other and basically everyone else. They start opening up to you; you hear the way they talk about their fans, their families, their staff. And they’re very good to you, too - always treating you, making sure you’re comfortable and have anything you want/need. It turns out that they are truly the nicest guys; and if it’s not genuine, you don’t know what is.

When you walk into the studio the next morning, you’re pulled into an unexpected hug. Felix gives you that big smile of his. “Good morning! I hope you don’t mind that we’re starting a little early today.”

You return it readily. “Good morning! Honestly, it’s not too bad. I usually have early classes, so this feels normal.”

You go to sit on the couch and wait to find out exactly what you’ll need to do while you watch the present members. Felix is clearly the biggest morning person; he’s like a little flame, giving sparks to each member he speaks to, and you can see them brightening in his wake. After a few minutes, Chan comes in with Seungmin. He gives you a wave, but goes to sit by Changbin and immediately starts discussing their schedule for the session. Seungmin approaches you instead, handing you an iced latte - he got your order just right.

“Oh thank you, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, we wanted to thank you for changing things up for us today.” His English accent is so cute, and he’s incredibly attentive. And you love talking with him most. “Channie Hyung asked me to give you the low-down.”

Like the first day, Chan thought it would be nice to have you talk through pronunciations for Lee Know, I.N, Hyunjin, and Seungmin’s lines while the others are recording. You’re pretty sure that they could get this done without you easily, but you like having this time with them now. They’ve started relaxing a bit, working casual conversation into their time with you.

Even when you’re working with one of the other guys, Seungmin tends to sit with you, both double checking little things and helping you to direct them. His presence is comforting and welcome, often with his arm draped behind you over the back of the couch, occasionally brushing his hand against your shoulder or back.

By Friday, you feel like you have a much better understanding of the guys. You’ve seen their more serious sides and their sillier sides. And their flirty, kinda dirty sides. You’ve gotten glimpses of this over the course of last week, but it’s like the gloves came off today. It’s not even just flirting with each other. All day they all make sure to send quippy innuendos your way and make some kind of unnecessary physical contact with you, and you don’t hate it. You actually kind of love it.

3Racha go to work in their smaller studio, while you head to a practice room with the rest, and things take a slightly spicier turn. After a few run-throughs of different aspects of the choreography, Lee Know turns to you. “Wanna try it out?”

You’re not much of a dancer, but you figure what the hell, no harm in trying. You try to follow his steps as he counts them out, and even though you’re doing pretty well, Lee Know directs Hyunjin to give you a little extra support. With Hyunjin close behind you, placing light touches on your hips, your arms, your shoulders, it gets harder to focus on what you’re doing. When you’ve gone through the steps, they compliment you on the way you move.

“You could be a little looser in the hips, though. It’ll help all the moves flow more smoothly.” Hyunjin gets behind you again, this time with his front pressed to your back, his hands landing firmly on your hips. He applies slight pressure to encourage you to follow along with the sway of his hips. You nearly shiver when he whispers into your ear, “I like the way your hips move with mine.”

You have a moment like that with each of them. You try not to let it get to your head, but with each touch and insinuation, you’re falling into fantasies with each of them. When they break the group up further for more individual practice, Lee Know takes your hand.

“Come to my practice room for a bit?” He lets go when you take a step after him, giving you a coy smile. When you get into the small room, he indicates that you should take a seat facing him. Then he’s kneeling in front of you so that you’re looking down into his beautiful, brown eyes for once. His hand rests on your knee for balance, rubbing his thumbs back and forth absently. You start to think about what it would be like if he leaned in and his hands moved up your legs… The thought cuts off when he speaks again, an interesting gleam in his eyes. “So I’ll sing once through, if you notice anything you can make a note. Then I’ll sing again and you can stop me when I make a mistake.”

You want nothing more than to sit and listen to him sing for hours on end. His voice is amazing. You grab the pad and pen from the table next to you. “Of course!”

For the next hour or so, Lee Know - Minho, he told you you could call him that - sings for you, and you sing his praises. It is incredible. His voice – he himself – is so beautiful. He very gracefully takes your critiques and works hard to get things perfect.

The rest of the day is much the same, really just hanging out with the guys and watching them work, sometimes with all eight of them, other times in smaller groups. All of them continue to flirt, making you more and more interested in spending time with them outside of work hours. As you’re heading out for the day, Seungmin catches up with you.

“Would you wanna grab a coffee with me later?”

You try not to smile too big. “That’d be great. Just tell me when and where.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

When you get home, you’re already going over your plan to meet Seungmin at the cafe near his dorm. You’re so immersed in thoughts of him, you nearly run into your mom.

She asks the usual questions and you give the usual answers.

“Honey, I really do think you should consider letting your uncle set you up with one of those boys. You say you’re not having fun at this internship, but your mood seems up. It might be good for you.”

You can’t believe she was right, but you’re not gonna let her know that. So you lie. “That doesn’t have anything to do with a bunch of idols. I met a girl who works in the cafeteria who’s cool, though. I’m actually meeting her at a cafe in a little bit.”

She’s happy that you’re making friends and leaves you to get ready. You throw on a top that tastefully shows off your cleavage paired with cute, comfy flowy shorts that could probably cover your ass a little better. You feel a little bad going behind her back, but your parents would be insufferable if they learned that you were interested in them.

When you get to the cafe, Seungmin is waiting outside, two coffees in hand. Unfortunately, you can’t see his smile behind the mask, but he does look good despite it.

“Hi, thanks! Were you wanting to sit outside?”

His ears look a little pink; you worry that he’s got bad news. “I actually was hoping you’d want to take a walk. Maybe to the dorm to hang out with the guys? It’s completely fine if you don’t.”

You think about it less than you should before agreeing. If you took a moment, you’d think it sounds like a set up for something more. Actually, you might still have agreed.

He takes your hand and after a short walk you reach the Cuties Dorm, as they call it, but all of the other members are there. When you walk into the living room, you’re greeted by shouts from each of them and what’s become the usual hug from Felix, that literal ball of sunshine. This time his arms linger around you a bit longer as he tells you he’s happy you decided to come.

As you settle on the couch between Seungmin and Hyunjin; the former sits a little closer than necessary, leaning into you, while the latter throws his arm around your shoulders with his hand gently kneading into the nape of Seungmin’s neck. You revel in their closeness. You all hang out for a while together; they tell stories and ask you more about your life back in the states. Like earlier in the day, there’s more flirting and touching than usual, and they’re even less subtle about it. Also like before, you give as good as you get.

At one point, Hyunjin makes what you think is a joke about how nice it is that you signed a broad NDA when you started at JYPE in case you decide to have “even more fun” with them. You laugh and agree, leaning into him a bit more. Seungmin’s hand lands on your thigh then, fingers lightly caressing your bare skin. You’re not entirely sure if this is going where you think it is, but between their hands and arms on your body and the looks the members shared at your agreement, you’re starting to wonder if it really was a joke.

“I’m really glad we’re getting to know you more tonight.” Chan watches you, head tilted, contemplative, as he says it. “We’ve all been hoping to get closer to you. We just weren’t sure how open to it you would be.”

Seungmin slides his hand a tiny bit more toward the inside of your thigh and gives you a quick squeeze. You stare at Chan for a moment. He licks his lips, holding your eye contact. Well, fuck it; if I’m wrong, I’ll just refuse to go back to work, you think. “So to be clear… You all are hoping that I’m interested in hooking up?”

Despite his boldness from just moments before, Chan starts turning into a tomato and looking down at his hands. Not one to mince words, Lee Know takes control of the situation. “Yes. Are you?”

“I mean…” You glance around the room, taking in the varying levels of hope, embarrassment, and desire on their faces. You rest one hand on Seungmin’s and the other on Hyunjin’s leg. “You don’t mean all at once, right? I think I’d need to work up to that.”

The room erupts in laughter and the tension dissipates. You all agree to just let things progress naturally, with the stipulations that they’re all going to actively pursue you now and that relationships won’t go beyond a friends with benefits situation. You assure them that you’re attracted to all of them, not that you felt pressured when Chan said ‘all.’

Luckily, once you’ve talked things out, things are as relaxed as before the conversation started. Soon, though, most of the guys announce that they’re leaving. 3Racha need to head back to the studio to work on a track they’d been talking about for the last half hour. Minho and I.N had plans to see a movie tonight, and Felix decides to tag along. On their way out, each of them gives you a hug. Chan’s is only a half hug, but his hand is definitely on your ass. You raise your eyebrows at him, and he just gives you a little squeeze and a pat before heading for the door. Changbin’s hug is so comforting that you wish you could just melt into him. Han is bold enough to kiss your cheek before saying goodbye with a wink. Seeing this, Felix immediately says that he wants a kiss, too. Rather than kissing your cheek like Han, however, his soft lips make contact with yours for just a second. You’re pretty sure your cheeks are on fire as I.N slips in right as Felix releases you.

“Better make it a full set,” he says as he brushes a quick kiss on the side opposite of Han’s. Minho is last and to your surprise, he keeps his hands off your ass - you would’ve thought if anyone was going to grab it, it would’ve been the resident butt hunter. He does, however, whisper suggestively in your ear before he releases you. “I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

You turn to face the remaining two, the implication in Minho’s words making your head spin. You meet Hyunjin and Seungmin’s eyes in succession, unsure of what your next move should be.

“We’re going to watch a movie, if you wanna stay here with us for a while longer.” Seungmin’s voice is neutral, but you think you can see a touch of hunger in his eyes. “Otherwise, I’m happy to walk you home.”

Hyunjin bites his lip while he waits for your answer. It makes you wish you were the one biting it. “Yeah, a movie sounds nice.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

You make your way to the couch again with Hyunjin, and Seungmin heads to the kitchen to make popcorn and grab other snacks. The two of you sit facing each other, discussing preferred genres and favorite movies. You land on The Greatest Showman for tonight, and Hyunjin’s face lights up with passion as he talks about his favorite dance numbers in film. When Seungmin arrives with the snacks, Hyunjin surprises you by reaching over and pulling you halfway into his lap.

“Sorry,” he giggles, not looking even a little sorry. His hands are lingering on your hips, and you catch yourself looking at his lips again. “Just wanted to make sure Minnie had room to sit.”

“So considerate of you, Jinnie.” Seungmin deadpans as he sets the snacks and drinks on the coffee table. He sits beside you, partially on your cushion, and his hand lands on Hyunjin’s, still on your hip. Your breath hitches when you feel a slight squeeze. Hyunjin releases you then, and you turn to face the tv; they’re both so close to you, you feel your cheeks heating up. But then they’re acting normal again, like they have no clue that now all you can think about is being pressed between them with their hands and mouths exploring your body. You know you just confidently talked about hooking up with them, but you’re a little nervous now.

“I am considerate.” Hyunjin laughs and gestures at the screen. “You love this movie, right? We picked it just for you.”

For the next 20 minutes, it’s just like it was before ‘the talk.’ You're talking a little as you watch the movie. Seungmin has his arm around you this time, and after a few minutes Hyunjin rests his head on your shoulder and takes your hand; his thumb traces small circles on your skin. Seungmin moves so that his hand is on the nape of your neck now; when he presses in a bit with his fingers, you look over at him, and Hyunjin takes the opportunity to make a move.

Seungmin is smiling as Hyunjin places a kiss just under your jaw and your mouth drops open with a sharp inhale. Hyunjin’s hand drops yours and moves to softly squeeze your thigh as he kisses you again. Seungmin tips your chin up so you look directly into his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so instead you nod and rest your hand on his thigh. He smiles widely and leans in to press his lips to yours. He tries to pull back, but you immediately pull him back, tilting your head for a deeper kiss. Hyunjin continues to leave a trail of kisses on your neck and his hand shifts up to your waist, creeping up slowly. At once, he gives you a gentle bite and his hand cups your breast. You break your kiss with Seungmin with a small gasp. As soon as you turn to face him, Hyunjin captures your lips, his tongue tangling with yours. Seungmin takes over for him on the other side of your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. Both their hands roam across your body. They’ve barely begun - you hope - but you’re already feeling a little overwhelmed and unsure what to do with your hands.

It’s like Hyunjin reads your mind. He sits back grinning at you with pink, pouty lips shining. Seungmin turns toward you, and throws his arms around your waist to pull you into his lap, turning you to face away from him and keeping his arms wrapped around your middle and resting his chin on your shoulder. Hyunjin finds your hands and asks, “This isn’t too much, is it?”

You bite your lip as you consider how to answer. He’s so beautiful; it’s hard to think of anything besides kissing him again. “It’s kind of a lot… But I don’t want to stop.”

Seungmin begins kissing your neck again, both hands cupping and caressing your breasts. Hyunjin’s smile widens as he scoots as close to Seungmin as possible, gently moving your legs so they drape over his lap. One hand starts kneading the inside of one of your thighs. He leans in, his other hand comes up - you thought it was going to your face, but he reaches past you to stop Seungmin’s progress on your neck. You feel yourself being pushed forward slightly, feel his obviously hardening cock on your back, as you watch Seungmin bring his face up to meet Hyunjin’s. The second their lips touch, your jaw drops a bit.

When this began, you somehow never even thought about this being a possibility. With how comfortable they are flirting with and touching each other, you feel a little silly for not considering it already. It’s quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. They’re so beautiful together. You catch a glimpse of Hyunjin’s tongue slipping into Seungmin’s mouth at the same time that his hand makes contact with your center, fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. You spread your legs a bit to give him easier access, wishing there weren’t two layers of fabric blocking his path. As you move, Seungmin’s hand comes down to hook your outside leg over his, spreading you further. Lips still locked on Hyunjin’s, his hands slide inside your shirt and around to your back; once your bra is unclasped, his hands come back around and under it, pinching and twisting your nipples.

A small moan escapes your lips and brings Hyunjins attention back to you. Both of their mouths are on you again, and Hyunjin slips his fingers into your panties. You feel like you’re on fire. You simultaneously reach in front of and behind you, wrapping each hand around equally impressive lengths. As you stroke them through their shorts, you elicit two moans in harmony.

Hyunjin pulls back. “As much as I like this couch, I wonder if we should move somewhere a bit more comfortable, Minnie?”

One of Seungmin’s hands drops down to your waist, the other continues to tease you. “That is an excellent idea, Jinnie. Are you alright with that?”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you now. They move in unison. When one speaks, the other kisses, their hands never stop touching, caressing, taking you closer to what is sure to just be your first climax of many tonight. You nod and capture Seungmin’s lips.

Hyunjin giggles and presses a kiss to your cheek. “I know you said this was a lot, so I think we’d prefer a verbal answer.” He pulls at your shirt. “Cause if we move locations, things are definitely going to heat up.”

“I want that.” You nearly gasp. “Please, let’s go. Wherever.”

Hyunjin stands, pulling you up with him. “Seungmin-ah, why don’t you take our gorgeous friend here to your room while I go get a few things.”

“Yes, sir.” Seungmin smiles and salutes before throwing you over his shoulder with a quick slap on your ass. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

Seungmin proceeds to his room, not flinching at the slaps you’ve landed on his cute, little ass in complaint. In no time at all, he’s dropping you onto your back, and before you can even catch your breath, he’s on you. His tongue clashes with yours, one hand grips your hip tightly while the other grips your face and neck with his thumb pressed under your chin. He’s a bit more… forceful than you expected. It’s exciting. You bite his lower lip.

He smiles against your lips. He brings his hand to the hem of your shirt and starts pulling it up. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You let him pull your top off and discard your bra. You pull his shirt up as well, ready to see more of him. For a brief moment, you wonder if you should be waiting for Hyunjin, but as soon as his shirt clears his head, he’s on you again - this time bringing his mouth to one nipple to suck, lick, and bite gently. One of his hands slides down into your panties; his fingers thrust into you a few times before spreading your wetness up to your clit. You arch into him with a moan.

Seungmin starts kissing his way down your body. You whimper when he retracts his hand to pull your shorts and underwear off in one smooth motion. He pauses then to look down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re naked in the bed of a man you met less than a week ago. With another on his way to join you. You wonder if you think you make terrible or excellent decisions. You sit up and tug on the waistband of his shorts, and when he slides them off, you lean more toward excellent. He doesn’t give you the chance to touch his nice, thick cock; when you reach for it, he puts a hand on your chest, pushing you onto your back. He settles down between your legs. He kisses a trail from your right knee down your thigh, nipping at you in a few places. When he starts back at the top of your other knee, you let out a whiny “Minnie…”

“So impatient.” He smiles up at you. He doesn’t stop his teasing, but at your small groan, he splays his hand over your stomach, thumb landing on your clit. His lazy circles barely take the edge off.

“Seungmin, please.”

He chuckles, but takes pity on you. He gives you a long lick, sucking when he reaches your clit. Your back arches off the bed, and you squeeze your eyes closed with a moan. You’re so preoccupied that you miss the door opening and shutting, only realizing Hyunjin’s in the room when he kisses your forehead.

“Is my puppy making you feel good? He’s great with his tongue.” Hyunjin giggles when Seungmin sits back, mouth and chin glistening, to ‘mong mong’ at him.

You reach up for Hyunjin, but he’s already moving closer to Seungmin. He runs his hand down your body, easily sliding three fingers into you while simultaneously leaning over to lick the Seungmin’s lips clean. It is… beyond hot.

“You taste good,” Hyunjin turns back to you, his fingers pumping in and out, keeping you panting and needy. “And you’re so wet for us, baby. Minnie, I think you should finish what you started so I can have a turn.”

You almost tell him that he can just take his turn now, but Seungmin dives in immediately with renewed vigor. Every swipe of his tongue brings you closer and closer to the edge. You expect Hyunjin to kiss or touch you in some way, but when you can control your trembling body enough to look down at Seungmin, you see that Hyunjin is just behind him. You watch both of Seungmin’s hands reach up to tweak your nipples and realize that Hyunjin has reached under his arm, and his fingers are the ones expertly curling against your g-spot. They’re so in sync. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as Hyunjin switches hands, so he can stroke Seungmin’s cock using your wetness to smooth his glide. The sight tips you over the edge. Your eyes roll back in your head as you curl in on yourself with a moan. Seungmin keeps up a steady pace allowing you to ride out your orgasm. He disengages with a moan of his own as you come down.

“That’s a good girl,” Hyunjin purrs. He grips Seungmin by the hair to tip his head back and kiss him passionately before turning back to you to say, “and a good boy. Don’t you think so?”

You let out a sigh and sit up. Your gaze immediately begins tracking the movement of Hyunjin’s hand again. You suck your lower lip between your teeth with a soft groan. At Seungmin’s soft “fuck,” you bring your hand over to rub lazy circles over your clit. Suddenly, Hyunjin draws his hand back. Seungmin whines and your eyes snap up to Hyunjin’s.

“Well, Minnie, if she doesn’t think you did a good job, I’m not sure you should get a reward.” He says it with a devious smile on his face. When Seungmin huffs and turns to try to bite his neck, Hyunjin catches his chin and crashes his lips back to Seungmin’s.

“No, no!” You say a little too loudly, scrambling toward them. “He did such a good job! He was amazing. You were amazing, Minnie.”

Hyunjin giggles and drags Seungmin’s face toward yours. His tongue slides against yours, and your hand picks up where Hyunjin’s left off. One of his hands is back on your chest, the other sliding through your folds again. Hyunjin laughs again, gently pushing both your shoulders to separate you. “Oh well if he was that good, he deserves more than this. Lay on the bed, pup.”

Seungmin pouts a little, squinting his eyes at him as he stands. “Hyunie, I know you like taking charge, but it feels like there’s a little too big of a power imbalance here.”

Hyunjin laughs, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing his shorts to the ground. Like Seungmin, his body is nicely toned, not overly muscular. Beautiful. “Better?”

“Almost.” Seungmin tucks a finger into the waistband of briefs, pulling Hyunjin closer to him. The smile on his face is devastating. “And I think I’ll choose my own reward. Lose these and you sit on the bed.”

Hyunjin presses a quick kiss to Seungmin’s jaw. Then he licks his lips and turns to you. “Help me out?”

You’re enjoying watching them so much, you nearly forgot you’re part of this as well. You free him of his briefs and watch his half-hard cock bounce as he moves to sit with his back against the headboard. Seungmin’s watching as well, his head cocked to the side. He moves behind you, hands resting on your waist. You get a chill when you feel his breath on your neck. He whispers, “I’m going to put on a condom now. While I do, you should get on your knees between Jinnie’s pretty dancer’s legs, ass up and ready for me.”

The second his hands leave you, you’re crawling up to take Hyunjin’s pretty cock into your mouth. Another time you might have teased him, but you’re so hot for him, for them, that you want to get him on your level as soon as possible. You bob your head, tongue swirling around his tip when you come up. With each pass, he stiffens and grows - you soon have to work to fit him in your mouth. You relax your throat and take him further, wrapping a hand around his base, the other resting on his hip.

“Mmmm,” Hyunjin rumbles, tangling his fingers into your hair with a smile. “Minnie, is this a reward for me or for you?”

You feel Seungmin bring himself into position behind you. He grabs your hips, adjusting them so that you’re just where he wants you. You can hear the smile in his voice as he plunges a couple fingers into you. “I always want to reward you, baby, but I feel like the real winner is between us.”

He lands a playful slap on your ass and you hum in agreement, causing Hyunjin’s grip in your hair to tighten as he lets loose a low groan. You hum again, then pull off with a pop. You grin up at him as you feel Seungmin tap the fat head of his cock against your ass. You tape Hyunjin’s tip into your mouth and suck hard as you continue to pump your fist around his shaft. You feel the pressure of Seungmin pushing into you, his hands grip your hips tightly. He goes slowly, sinking inch by inch filling you up. The pressure feels fantastic. You moan, giving Hyunjin a slight squeeze. Both men jerk their hips in tandem. You pull off Hyunjin with a gag, panting, pushing back against Seungmin as he keeps up steady thrusts.

Hyunjin takes your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m sorry, baby. It felt so good; I couldn’t keep still. If you can’t keep going, I can wait my turn.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m - ahh - I’m okay. Just wasn’t ready.” You press your face into his thigh with another shaky moan.

Hyunjin laughs. “Seungminnie, are you happy where you are or should we flip her?”

“No,” you pant. “I wanna… I wanna finish.”

Seungmin is hitting you in just the right spot. Each rock of his hips sends you closer to your peak. Hyunjin laughs again. It turns into another groan as you wrap your lips back around his head and suck hard. “Fuck me.”

“I can do that next, if you want, but I might need a breather.” Seungmin grunts out as he increases his pace. His grip on your hips tightens, you’re likely going to end up with bruises. You increase your pace in turn, and Hyunjin’s moans become more frequent. It’s hard to maintain, though. You pull off of Hyunjin with a gasping moan, burying your face in his thigh again.

“I’ve got this, baby.” Hyunjin takes over for you, jerking himself in tempo with Seungmin’s thrusts, his gaze locked on the snap of Seungmin’s hips. He lets out a drawn out groan. “You’re taking Minnie so well. You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now. Fuck, Min, I think I could come just by watching you; I’m already so close.”

Hyunjin’s other hand is stroking your hair and you look up at him, mouth hanging open barely able to do much more than pant and moan. The tide is rising in you, threatening to wipe you out.

As he lets go of one of your hips, you feel Seungmin lean against your back. and Hyunjin is leaning forward to meet him. You can barely see their kiss, but you feel how it’s interrupted Seungmin’s rhythm and let out a whimper. His hand drops from Hyunjin’s face into your hair. He pulls it a little less than gently. The new angle allows you a better view of Hyunjin working himself and biting his lip. The space created gives Hyunjin room to take hold of one of your breasts, pinching and pulling, bringing you right back to the edge.

Seungmin slides his other hand between your legs, and your body starts to convulse. You can’t control any of the sounds coming out of your mouth - a mix of their names, moans, curses. Your climax overwhelms you. As you shake and move with each slam of Seungmin’s hips, but barely hear Hyunjin’s “fuck” as thick spirts of cum land on your chest and face. It spurs you on; you do your best to stick out your tongue, to catch as much as you can.

Another “fuck” sounds as you feel Seungmin’s hips stutter to a stop. His grip on your hair loosens, and you barely manage to keep yourself from face planting into Hyunjin’s lap. Your body is nearly spent, finally coming down from what may have been the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

Seungmin pulls out and flops down on his side next to you, breathing heavily with a relaxed smile on his face. “You look so pretty with Jinnie all over you.”

He rolls over to grab wet wipes while Hyunjin encourages you to flip over and sit up. After Seungmin cleans you both up, Hyunjin pulls you back to lean against him. You stay like that for a few moments, before dressing and snuggling back up on the couch to watch the rest of the movie. When it’s over, you and Seungmin walk hand in hand out of the dorm, passing Minho and Jeongin on their way in. Minho shoots you a wink and a look that makes you feel like he’s telling you that he’s next… and you can’t wait.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

To be continued...

153 notes · View notes

purifiedclitoris69 · 4 months

Text

A/n: Just something completely random, a little dry, quite ass, but I figured I'd get something small outta my drafts (they are starting to pile up with unfinished ideas sooo idk what to do bout thatl lol). Thank you for all the support on In It Together wasn't expecting that but it is very much appreciated. Love ya! hope you enjoy ;)

Your head rested on Natasha’s thigh arms wrapped around in tow, as you absentmindedly drew shapes on her soft skin, and her hands played in your hair as she read a book aloud. You two were in a more quiet part of the compound, small warm common room that often went looked over. Rain fell gently on the window, as you two took in the presence of one another.

The two most feared on the avengers, so soft for one another. You were a mercenary, you had a vegence that made many deem you a villain, but no one knew the full truth but Nat. You went through, physical and mental torture by both your parents and handlers, it drove you mad, fractured your mind. But the avengers had saved you over 3 years ago, Nat had saved you. Many still feared you, your teammates a little intimidated by your brooding quiet nature and brute strength, but seeing you wrapped around the widow like a koala, you looked at peace.

Unnoticed by the two of you, Bucky, Peter, and Sam stood in the hall absolutely jaw dropped.

“no shot that’s actually them,” Sam whisper shouted to the two.

“shhhh,” Peter said scared the two would see them, “i think it’s cute,” he whispered as Bucky just smiled amused.

“you know with enhanced strength comes enhanced hearing,” Bucky laughed walking away.

“you two mention this to anyone and i’ll hunt you from the shadows until you lose your minds,” you spoke not moving from your position

Sam and Peter’s eyes went wide as Parker mumbled out a “Yes ma’am.”

Sam choking out and, “understood,” pulling Parker away from the both of you.

Nat laughed continuing to play with your hair, “when are you gonna let them know how much of a softie you are.”

“mm never,” you smiled turning your face into her thigh and leaving a soft kiss, “it’s only for you.”

She put her book down enough to look at your face as you blushed looking back at her, “your ridiculous,” she smiled as her face blushed to match yours.

“then why are you blushing,” you laughed crawling up her body as she brought her book back up to cover her face, “can’t hide,” you pulled the book down winking at her all cheesy as you both broke out in laughter.

“you are such a cornball,” she giggled like a school girl, putting the book down and pulling you on top of her instead as you both broke out in to belly laughter.

“disgusting,” Yelena said with Clint shaking his head and smiling standing by her side.

#enhanced!reader #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #marvel #natasha fluff #natasha romanov

173 notes · View notes

stevie-petey · 10 months

Text

episode four: the body

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal. “Hey! Henderson!” “Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you. His unexpected shouting causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you. “Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

summary: you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.

rating: general but plenty of cursing as usual.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 8k

before you swing in: hello ! happy eve of a spending time with loved ones, however ya choose to celebrate or not celebrate and all that jazz. i hope y'all are well and doing okay :) a LOT happens in this chapter, so buckle up. so many feelings and revelations my god. also this chapter is one i really loved writing purely because i got to explore more of steve and reader so ,,, ya welcome ! (hopefully i was able to clear up jonathans thoughts and how he processes, i really want it to come across as someone hurt and overwhelmed rather than just him being cranky lmao). anyways, enjoy !!

It’s a quiet morning.

You roll over, the sunlight streaming through your curtains, and for a moment you forget. It’s a blissful moment, sweet naivety that strokes your cheek and coaxes your eyes open. As you throw your arms over your head and stretch, last night’s events haven’t caught up to you quite yet.

Then you feel Jonathan’s body next to yours and for a moment you’re confused. He never sleeps in your bed whenever he spends the night, being ever the gentleman. No matter how many times you offer, he always insists on respecting your mother’s wishes and sleeping on the giant beanbag chair within your room, and it always makes your heart warm.

Your mother had specifically bought the beanbag for Jonathan when you were thirteen. He had been spending more and more nights at your home, sneaking in through your window to avoid his parents fighting. At first he would simply fall asleep on your carpet, despite your many reassurances that he could sleep in your bed, so when your mom unexpectedly barged into your room one morning and saw him lying face down on the ground, she freaked.

Once you had explained everything to her (with Jonathan’s permission), she had shoved you guys into her car, dropped him off at his house, and then found the beanbag at a garage sale for $10.

“This way, he’ll have a place to sleep that’s soft and cozy, away from my young daughter,” she had said during the drive home. You had covered your face in embarrassment at her implication, but you were also incredibly proud to call her your mom at that moment. She may be overbearing at times, but she was the kindest woman you’ve ever met.

You rub your eyes and glance at the bean bag that sits between your bed and wall, its dusty blue color almost glowing in the early morning light. Then you glance at Jonathan, who has woken up before you, and notice the redness in his eyes and the dark circles now darker than ever.

Then it all comes rushing back to you.

Will’s body in the quarry.

Holding your brother as he mourned his friend.

El, so quiet and shy and sweet, running away after your cruel dismissal.

Jonathan showing up to your window hours later, broken and devastated.

Then, late into the night, the two of you falling asleep, side by side in your bed, both needing each other more than ever before.

The two of you get ready without saying anything. You hand Jonathan some spare clothes of his that you keep in a drawer before giving him some space as you go and take a shower. You spend longer than usual getting ready, but you pay no attention to the clock. There’s no way you’re going to school today. You’re not leaving Jonathan alone for even a second.

Jonathan finishes getting ready before you do and waits in your room. Neither of you have said anything yet, last night being too fresh in your memories, but words aren’t needed between the two of you.

You take his hand and lead him into your kitchen and wordlessly hand him a banana. He stares at you, and you stare back, silently challenging him to decline the food. He needs to eat. You’ve noticed how thin he’s gotten with everything happening.

He sighs, knowing he won’t win this fight, and takes a bite out of the banana in a mocking manner, but you’re just relieved he’s eating.

You grab your own breakfast before writing a note for your mom, informing her that you’ll be with Jonathan today and promising to make up any missed assignments as soon as you can. Then you quietly go into Dustin’s room to check up on him, but his bed is empty. You glance at his alarm clock and note the early hour, he doesn’t normally leave for school for another thirty minutes, which makes you frown.

Where the hell did the kid run off to?

An uneasy feeling settles over you, but you don’t have time to question anything. Knowing Dustin, he ran off to school earlier than usual to see his friends and distract himself from last night. While your mom offered you both to stay home for the rest of the week due to Will’s death, neither of you have ever been good at staying put and dealing with your emotions.

Wherever your brother is, you know he needs his space.

Once everything is settled, you join Jonathan in his car and drive to his place. While he never explicitly asked you to this morning, you know that you’re going to his house with him to help him deal with his mother and the funeral preparations.

He doesn’t have to ask, and you don’t have to tell him that you’ll help.

You both just know.

About halfway to his place, Jonathan finally speaks.

“The cops say that Will crashed his bike and fell into the quarry,”

“Jonathan, we don’t have to talk about it right now-”

“My mom doesn’t believe that he’s dead. She-she insists that he’s in the walls, that he can speak through-through… Christmas lights.”

His voice shakes as he speaks, and you can’t tell if it’s due to grief or anger.

“Will is dead and my mom chooses to believe that there’s some monster in our walls that took him.”

“A monster?” you think about El and her powers and the fear on the boys’ faces when she pulled out the Demogorgon piece. Then you remember the other night at the Byers’ home when Joyce came running outside as the lights were flickering wildly. Her fear had been genuine.

“A fucking monster that’s hiding in our walls. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t listen, Y/N. I tried talking to her, to calm her down, but she just…” His words fade off, and he clenches his jaw as tightens his hands around the steering wheel.

You’re not sure what to say. It’s a tough situation, a fucking heartbreaking one, and it’s all so unfair. Jonathan needs his mom, but his mom needs Will.

You rest your hand behind his head and allow your fingers to rub circles against his skin. He leans into your touch, and for now this is all you can do.

The state of the Byers’ home has only gotten worse since the last time you were there. There’s now letters painted on the wall and string lights placed all throughout the house. There’s also clothes in random corners and trash thrown around.

Jonathan had been staying in this house alone, watching his mother spiral. Your stomach twists with guilt.

You should’ve been there more for him, but instead you allowed your petty need to help everyone distract you from what’s important.

Joyce is passed out on the couch with an ax clutched between her hands, which breaks your heart even more. Jonathan walks over to wake her up and you give the two of them some privacy as you head into the kitchen to make Joyce some breakfast.

Their fridge is barren, but you aren’t surprised. You make do with the few eggs you find and get to work; it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do. As you prepare breakfast, you notice a stack of Will’s drawings on the kitchen table, which causes you to gag with remorse.

There’s still so much of Will within these walls, his entire childhood still locked inside, untouched, and yet the house lacks his presence.

He’s gone.

–

You wait with Hopper in the morgue waiting room, nervously tapping your foot and frantically trying to distract yourself with a comic. The words blur together in your head and the images float around. You can’t focus on anything. For once, Spidey’s quips and banter can’t distract you from reality.

Not only are you incredibly worried for Joyce and Jonathan, but the thought of Will’s body being a wall away from you sends chills down your spine. You can’t imagine what’s happening behind the doors, and you’re secretly relieved that you’ll never know.

“What’s taking so long?” Hopper’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.

You put your comic down and listen, figuring that it’s best if you’re caught up on everything so that you can store away any useful information for later.

The front desk lady sighs. “Well, everything’s been a bit chaotic around here without Gary.”

This catches Hopper’s attention. “Without Gary?”

“I thought you knew. Those men from State, they… they sent Gary home last night.”

Now this catches your attention. Why would the State replace the town’s coroner?

“So who did the autopsy?”

“Someone from State.”

Hopper looks at you, almost as if to ask if you’re also hearing this, and you give him a slight nod. It’s odd, really damn odd.

“Why would they send someone for a little boy?” You ask Hopper, but he only shakes his head in response.

In the back of your mind, you think about what El had warned you of. The bad men, the people she has to hide from… it didn’t make sense at the time, but now…

Your thoughts are cut off as Jonathan runs out the door, his hand over his mouth, and you immediately get up to help him outside. He throws up against the wall outside, and you wince at the smell. You’ve never been good with people getting sick, but Jonathan needs you right now, so you rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up. Once he’s done, you head back inside and wait for Joyce.

You offer Jonathan a tissue before coaxing him to rest his head on your shoulder. Having nothing else to do, yet urgently wanting to help, you begin to read him some panels from your comic. He doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a sign to keep going. Your voice is hoarse from all your crying, but you read aloud anyways.

Hopper watches your interaction with a small interest. You don’t notice his curious eyes and the way they seem to glint with sincerity. In his eyes, the two of you will get together soon enough.

After a couple minutes, Hopper finally asks Jonathan how Joyce is holding up. The boy straightens up, but grabs your hand to steady himself, and responds as best as he can. He explains the lights, the letters on the wall, everything.

“She’s had anxiety problems in the past, but this…? I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath, and you draw reassuring patterns on the back of his hand. “I’m worried it could be… god, I don’t know.”

“She’s grieving,” you remind him, and he nods.

“Yeah, she’s grieving, but she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay; my mom, she’s tough.”

“Like Spider-Man,” you say, though you don’t really mean to. You’re tired and the words just slip out, but Jonathan begins to laugh.

“Yeah, like Spider-Man, you’re right. Thanks, bug.”

“Anytime, bee.”

Jonathan smiles at you, still softly laughing, and it’s then that you realize. He hasn’t laughed in days, he’s hardly even smiled, and yet here he is, smiling at the stupid nickname you gave him and laughing at the stupid joke you didn’t even mean to say; you realize you’d do anything to get him to laugh again, to give you that smile that he’s only ever reserved for you. He squeezes your hand and his eyes shine for a moment with a familiar warmness that has always made you weak.

It hits you like a cold, cruel wave on a harsh winter day.

You’re in love with Jonathan.

Fuck.

It’s horrible timing, and you feel sick with guilt for realizing that you love your best friend merely hours after his brother has died, but now it’s all you can think about.

You love him, you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything before, but you can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, and you don’t have the time.

You’re thankful when Hopper begins to talk again, reiterating that Joyce is tough, so that you have the time to process your newfound feelings.

Then Joyce comes crashing through the door, screaming about how whatever is in the other room isn’t Will, ignoring everyone who tells her to calm down. Both you and Jonathan stand up to calm her down, your comic dropping to the ground in the process, but she doesn’t listen and instead runs outside.

“Mom!” Jonathan follows after her.

You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears before picking up the comic. You know that Jonathan needs to be alone with Joyce right now, give them some privacy, it’s a personal matter. More personal than anything else, and yet you also selfishly don’t want to be near him for a few moments so you can collect yourself as well.

As you’re gathering your things, Hopper clears his throat.

“Do you love him?”

You freeze, having not expected such a personal question. You’ve only just realized your feelings for him, how the hell has Hopper already figured it out? “What does it matter? His brother is dead and his mom is losing it.”

Hopper rubs his hand over his face, giving you a warning look. “But do you love the kid?”

It’s the way he says it, like it means life or death, that has you respond, “I do.”

“Take care of him, then.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it, urging you to understand the weight of his words, and you do.

You’ve heard about how his daughter had died and his wife divorced him soon after. They’d only ever been rumors to you, but now you know that they’re true. He’s telling you to take care of Jonathan, that your love for him means that you have to take care of him in a way that no one else can.

In a way, you suppose that you and Hopper aren’t so different after all, and you gain a new sense of respect for the man.

You swallow deeply and nod at him before excusing yourself to follow after Jonathan and Joyce.

–

The mother and son in question are a few blocks down the street, Joyce waving her son away as he follows her with the car.

You sigh.

This day definitely sucks.

Running up to them is a pain in the ass, honestly. You get that you gave them some privacy, but damn. Did Jonathan seriously have to take the car as well?

When you finally catch up, he’s parking. “Hey, what are you-”

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he turns the engine off and runs after his mom.

“Seriously?” You groan, clutching at a stitch in your side from running. Usually you’re a great runner, actually choosing to go for a run whenever you’re particularly stressed out or anxious. However with the shitshow that this week has been, you haven’t gone on your morning run in a while and you’re starting to feel the effects of being out of practice.

Joyce, being surprisingly fast, is hard to catch up with, but you do your best as Jonathan sprints ahead of you. When he finally reaches her, he grabs at her jacket with a determined look in his eyes.

You hang back, now regretting the fact that you left the coroner’s office in the first place.

“Mom, stop!”

“Just go home, Jonathan.”

“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.”

“Shut down… what-” The confusion in Joyce’s eyes is enough to make you feel Jonathan’s frustration as well. You feel for the woman, you really do, but she has another son to worry about. Jonathan is still here, he’s lost his own baby brother, he needs his mom now more than ever.

But Joyce, too lost in her own grief and desperation, can’t see that.

“We have to deal with this, mom. We have to deal with the funeral!” You’ve never heard Jonathan raise his voice at his mom before, but after days of begging for her attention, you’re proud of him for defending himself.

The word “funeral” seems to snap Joyce out of her daze and once again she goes on her tangent about how Will’s body isn’t really back at the morgue, that he’s still alive, and Jonathan’s anger in his voice makes you ache.

As he and his mom continue to yell at one another, a few nosy people in the town area stand and watch. They whisper to each other, no doubt about how Will’s death has made Joyce Byers crazy, and you kick a few rocks at them.

“Fuck off! At least pretend that you aren’t a bunch of nosy assholes like most decent people do.” A woman sneers at you, but you wave your arms above your head, “Oh! Scary! Get fucked!”

Eventually they do as they’re told and walk away from the screaming mother and son, which pleases you.

You really hope that random lady wasn’t a patron of Bookstrordinary though.

“Yeah, well, while you’re talking to the lights, Y/N and I will be planning a funeral for Will!” Jonathan’s voice is laced with bitterness as he screams at his mother, breaking your heart even more. “I’m not letting him sit in that freezer another day!”

Joyce storms off, but you notice that her shoulders shake with tears as she leaves.

It’s such a devastating situation, and while you’re also frustrated with the way she’s been treating Jonathan, you also know that maybe her craziness isn’t exactly “crazy”. El is still out there, even if you’re not sure where, and you think about how she was able to control the comic book and the game pieces. The static electricity you felt in the air when she used her powers, the same static you felt at the Byers’ home a few nights ago when Joyce came running outside with the lights flashing and Will’s song playing on the radio.

But then you think about how El promised that Will was alive.

He isn’t; you see his dead body every time you close your eyes.

So really, what is there to believe?

Lost in thought, you don’t notice Jonathan walking towards you until he grasps at your arm and flings you along back to the car with him. He’s breathing heavily and you notice that he’s shaking. He’s in no condition to drive.

As you near the car you quickly reach around and grab his keys from his pocket before running over to the driver’s side and throwing yourself into the seat. Jonathan hates when you drive the car, not because you’re a bad driver, but because some part of him truly believes it’s impolite to make a girl drive.

As cute as you think his chivalry is, today you couldn’t give more of a damn.

Jonathan stands outside your door. “Y/N-”

“Nope, no time to argue, Byers. Get in.”

“But-”

“In.”

He does as he’s told, albeit with some attitude, but eventually the two of you are off. Without having to ask, you drive to the local funeral home. While you and Jonathan are similar in many ways, the one thing that pulls you together is planning. You both cling onto the stability that planning provides, and right now Jonathan is clinging onto his responsibilities for Will’s funeral.

Like he told his mom earlier, you and him have a funeral to plan.

The funeral home is closer to the edge of Hawkins, so the drive is a longer one. Along the way Jonathan slowly begins to calm down, untensing his shoulders and releasing his clenched jaw. You let him take all the time he needs, thankful that for now you have some time to yourself to reflect over today’s revelation.

You love Jonathan.

Those three words are heavy within your chest, and you almost don’t want to think about them, but you know that sooner or later you’ll have to. You glance at Jonathan, the late fall sun casts a warm glow on his face that for a brief moment brings back the boy you knew only a week ago, before everything changed. Then he turns to face you and you see the red in his eyes, his cheeks sunken in, and you know that you don’t have the time to unravel whatever you feel for him.

He needs his best friend right now.

Jonathan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. “Can we talk about yesterday?”

You cast him a quick glance. “Yesterday?”

“Our… our fight, I guess.”

“Oh,” you shift your hands on the steering wheel, now suddenly painfully aware of the silence within the car. “We don’t have to right now, bee. We should be focusing on the funeral arrangements.”

Your voice catches on the word “funeral”, it still hasn’t sunk in yet that Will is really gone.

“Bug, for the past eighteen hours all I’ve been thinking about is Will,” he takes a shaky breath and you gently place a hand on his, encouraging him to keep talking, “but when I’m not thinking about him… I’m thinking about you and what-what you said yesterday.”

“I said a lot yesterday-”

Jonathan gives you a pleading look. “Please just let me get this out, okay?”

You purse your lips but remain silent.

“I will never, ever deserve you. This week and my actions have proven that. This isn’t some pathetic attempt to make you pity me, I was an asshole to you and I recognize that. You love people in a way that terrifies me, Y/N. You’re my best friend and I think I would actually die if I ever lost you.”

A snort escapes your lips, “you probably would.”

“I definitely would, but this isn’t about me. I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been treating you lately and the fact that you’re driving me to a funeral home after watching my mom have a meltdown in the town square without even batting an eye is all the more proof that you’re too good for me.”

“I wouldn’t say too good, but yeah. Close enough.”

“It’s more than enough, bug. That’s what terrifies me: I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you’ve done for me, even before Will disappeared; you’ve been taking care of me since we were twelve.”

His words hang in the air as you allow them to wash over you. There’s so much you want to disagree with, namely the fact that he doesn't deserve you, but you know that he wouldn’t want to hear your arguments.

Again you think about how similar the two of you are, and while you both give your all to the people that you love, your love comes freely while Jonathan has grown up believing that it comes with conditions. It’s never been a problem in your relationship until now, but you guess with how much you’ve been overcompensating for everything, the need to return it all has caught up with him.

Finally, you speak. “You feel that you can’t accept my help because I’ve already done enough for you. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan takes a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, especially because I’m asking for your help right now with the funeral preparations, but…”

“I understand, but we’ll get through it,” you pull into the funeral home parking lot and turn the car off. “We always do, right?”

“Right,” Jonathan’s smile is a weak one, but you accept it nonetheless.

“Now, you ready to go look at children’s coffins like real men and women do?”

He laughs at your poor attempt at a joke, but even he can admit that objectively the entire situation is morbid. “Only real best friends go coffin shopping together.”

“My thoughts exactly, good sir.” Then, before you forget, you reach over and whack Jonathan’s head with the back of your hand.

“Ow! What was that for?”

You shrug your shoulders, “ask Nancy.”

And with that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and head into the funeral home, trusting that Jonathan will follow eventually enough. Things aren’t exactly the same between the two of you, especially with your newfound feelings for him, but it’s a start.

“I deserved that,” you hear Jonathan grumble, which makes you smile.

You’ll take whatever you can get.

–

You spot Nancy before Jonathan does.

It wasn’t intentional, really, but the funeral home director was droning on and on about the different wood selections for coffins and finishes that you can customize and it all makes you want to throw up; the coffins before you are so small, you weren't really paying attention in the first place.

She stands in the doorway and motions for you to get Jonathan’s attention, who is deeply focused on everything the old man is saying. A part of you wants to ignore the girl, but the scared look on her face tells you that this is something serious.

You nudge your shoulder against Jonathan’s and point at Nancy; he excuses the two of you as you walk towards her.

Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, a bit guarded. “Hey,”

“Hey, your mom, um… said you’d be here.”

“You talked to Mrs. Byers?” You ask, feeling a sudden possessiveness over the woman. Sure, you were kind of okay sharing Jonathan with Nancy so long as she was with Harrington, but Joyce? She’s like a second mother to you.

It made you uneasy that Joyce even talked to her in the first place.

Nancy tilts her head at you. “Yeah, it was only for a brief moment though. She seemed pretty… distracted.”

“No shit. Her son died, Nancy.”

The girl flinches a bit at your tone, which causes Jonathan to yank at your sleeve and shove you behind him. “Ignore her, we’ve had… Well, it’s been a long day.”

You feel your shoulders drop and unclench your fists. “Sorry, is everything okay? Is it the boys?”

“No, they’re fine, I just,” Nancy’s eyes shoot towards you, uncertain, before directing them towards Jonathan. “Can we talk for a second?”

The photos Nancy shows you makes your blood run cold. They start with Barb sitting alone by the pool, but slowly she pulls out more and more pieces of the torn picture to create a terrifying image with a shadow-like figure looming over her friend.

Jonathan tries to sum the shadow up to lens distortion, but you know that he’s wrong. Nancy asks more questions, trying to figure out exactly what has happened to Barb, but all you can think about is El.

You check the time on your watch and curse. It’s late afternoon now, you’ve been gone with Jonathan since early this morning. Dustin hadn’t been in his room when you left and you stupidly assumed that he’d gone off to school. Now, seeing the picture of Barb and that thing… Something is so goddamn wrong.

“The cops think that she ran away,” Nancy says.

“Just like they did with Will,” you’re whispering more to yourself than to them, but Jonathan hears you anyway.

“Maybe she did run away-”

Nancy shakes her head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. They don’t know Barb. When I went back to Steve’s… I thought I saw something.”

Your head shoots up. “Nancy, what did you see?”

“Some weird man,” the urgence in your voice confuses the girl, but you silently push her to keep talking, “or… I don’t know what it was.”

Both you and Jonathan are quiet afterwards for very different reasons.

He’s quiet because he probably thinks Nancy is crazy, just like his mom.

You’re quiet because you’re currently afraid you’ve accidentally left your idiotic brother and his friends and El alone with very real monsters and possible bad men. The figure Nancy saw… El being terrified of bad people finding and hurting her…

Well shit.

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have come here today-”

You stop Nancy from leaving. “No, you should stay… I think,” you look at Jonathan, nervous for how he may react to what you’re about to say. “I think I might have an idea of what you saw last night. A lot has happened since Will disappeared, things that I’m still trying to understand, but I think I know where to start finding an explanation.”

Jonathan turns to you. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Technically I did try telling you a few nights ago but then you yelled at me and threw a jacket at my face-”

“You threw a jacket at Y/N?” Nancy asks, which you and Jonathan ignore.

“But for now I can’t tell you anything else. I made a promise, and I’m not sure I’m right or even sane for considering it an explanation, but we need to leave. Now.”

“A promise? To who?” There’s an edge of hurt in Jonathan’s voice and you desperately wish you could explain more to him, but now isn’t the time. Not with Nancy sitting between you two and her own brother involved. You don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry for her; right now she needs to focus on Barb. You’ll wrangle in the boys, it’s your fault they’re even alone right now with El.

“I can’t exactly say who, but just trust me, okay? Again: I really hope I’m just insane and worried about nothing and that this will all be an embarrassing laugh for us later.”

“Y/N-”

“Jonathan, we need to go.”

“‘We’?” Nancy now speaks up, seemingly fed up by your vague exchange with Jonathan.

You try to collect yourself and pretend like you have some amazing plan. “Yes, we. Jonathan will take you to the photo developing room at school and see if you can make the pictures clearer. On the way there, he’ll drop me off at home so I can grab my bike and head out.”

“And what will you be doing?” The boy asks.

“Tracking down my brother, unfortunately.”

He gives you a doubtful look. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to just let you run off on your own without more of an explanation.”

You know he’s right, but you just… you can’t tell him about El and the bad men yet. You can’t. Not until you know for sure what the hell is happening.

“I’m sure it’s nothing… but just in case, I really need to find Dustin, okay?”

I’m a really, really bad babysitter, you think.

Jonathan opens his mouth again as if to argue, but you hold your hand up to silence him. You really don’t want to waste time fighting with him. He has to trust you on this, whether he likes it or not.

He sighs with defeat, “Just be safe, please.”

You also really don’t want to put anyone else in danger. It’s bad enough that you allowed the boys to get dragged into this mess, but you refuse to drag your best friend in as well. But really, who knows? Maybe you’re just a regular idiot who believes in fairy tales and monsters, not some idiot who leaves three overly naive boys alone with a girl with superpowers.

God you hope you’re just a regular idiot.

However, if Joyce believes that Will is alive, even without the knowledge of El and her powers, then you’re sure that the boys also believe he’s alive and will inevitably go looking for him again. Alone. In the same woods Nancy saw that strange figure.

You cast those thoughts out of your head and give Jonathan what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When am I not safe?”

You really, truly hope that you’re just an idiot, but if the photos that you just saw scare you. Before he can change his mind, you quickly reach over and snatch Jonathan’s keys from his jacket and give him a peck on the cheek before running out to his car.

“I call shotgun, Nancy!”

–

Unsurprisingly, the drive with Nancy and Jonathan is an awkward one. Things are still a bit tense between you and him for reasons you’re not sure you can tell him about just yet, and now Nancy is in the backseat trying not to make any sound, so really it was a doomed car ride from the start.

It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but there’s something about the way she acts around Jonathan that honestly makes you want to collapse. You know she’s with Harrington, but the tenderness Jonathan has shown her the few times they’ve interacted makes you uneasy.

Yesterday you chalked the uneasiness to simply never sharing Jonathan before, but now you know the truth.

You’re jealous because you’re in love with him.

It’s a nauseating feeling.

“So, how long have the two of you been friends?” Nancy’s question surprises you, mostly because she should already know the answer. You know she’s just trying to make conversation, but the question itself further reminds you of why the two of you had drifted apart in the first place.

“I moved here when I was twelve, remember? Your family helped us move in.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” You see Nancy nervously playing with her fingers in the rearview mirror, which makes you feel bad. She’s trying, you know she is.

“It’s fine,” you try to catch her eye, and when you do you give her a smile. “I know you probably don’t remember much from that day. It was the middle of the school year and our brothers immediately started being annoying together, so you had gone inside after only a couple minutes.”

Nancy laughs, now remembering that day. “Didn’t Mike hold an initiation for Dustin that night?”

“Yeah,” you laugh with her now. “That’s actually how Jonathan and I met. Remember, bee?”

Jonathan’s smile is a soft one, a smile that makes you feel weak because you know you’re the reason it’s there. “Of course I do. We both showed up at the Wheeler’s house at the same time to pick up our brothers.”

“And then-”

“I answered the door.” Nancy finishes for you.

“Yup. Ever since then, Jonathan hasn’t been able to get rid of me.”

“It’s been horrible,” he says with a monotone voice, but it’s clear to everyone that he’s joking.

You punch his shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I saved you from those bullies later that week.”

Jonathan gives you a pointed look and tries to subtly motion towards Nancy, clearly embarrassed that you've brought the bullies up in front of her. Like he wants her to think he’s someone cooler than he really is.

Your smile vanishes.

He wants to impress her.

“Right, sorry,” you clear your throat and if Nancy notices your sudden mood change, she doesn’t say anything. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and remind yourself that what matters right now are the boys and El. They should be your priority, not petty boy drama.

Luckily Jonathan pulls into your driveway not long after the abrupt conversation ending, which you’re thankful for.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face Nancy, and it takes everything in you to force a smile on your face. “Alright, well, this is my stop! Nancy, I’m trusting you to tell me whatever you and Jonathan find. I’d ask him to keep me updated, but I know he’ll inevitably forget.”

The girl nods at you. “You can trust me.”

Can I?

Although you’re not exactly sure what it is that you don’t think you can trust her with. Then, your eyes drift to Jonathan and the way he’s staring at her from his own mirror, and you realize that maybe she’s not the one you should be worried about.

“Good,” you turn to Jonathan now. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“And I’ll answer… probably.”

“You’re so sweet to me.”

“I know, right?”

You snort at the boy and wave goodbye to him and Nancy before getting out of the car. Your bike is in the shed, so you motion to Jonathan that he’s good to leave. When he’s sure you’re okay, he waves at you one last time and drives away.

It feels like you’ve made a huge mistake as you watch Jonathan and Nancy leave, but you don’t have time to think about why. Dustin’s bike isn’t in the shed alongside yours, which you expected, and you have to find him.

Your brother and his idiotic friends need you right now.

–

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.

“Henderson!”

“Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.

His unexpected shouting from the other side of the road causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.

“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

You glare at the boy. “You are a man, I am a woman. It’s getting dark outside. What exactly made you think it’s a good idea to yell out at me?”

“Well, I mean, I called after you.” He says, so matter of factly that it makes you want to strangle him.

You hate him. You really do.

A strand of hair has fallen in your face, so you blow it away before bothering to answer. “My apologies, you called after me and almost killed me in the process.”

Steve winks at you. “Apology accepted.”

You stare at him, unamused and still in the middle of the damn road, and after a couple beats of silence you cock your head at the boy. “Are you going to tell me what you need or…?”

“Oh,” Steve coughs, as if startled by your question. “Honestly I didn’t really have a plan when I called after you. I just kinda did, so…”

“Right, well.” You clench your jaw in annoyance. Why are you even surprised that Harrington has wasted your time? “This was fun, let’s never do it again sometime!”

You ride off on your bike, trying to quickly get up the hill so that you can get to the Wheeler’s before it gets too dark to see. The hill is brutal and it’s almost embarrassing how long it’s taking you to get up it, and as you’re huffing and dripping in sweat, headlights come up from behind you.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan.

Steve’s car is now right next to you, the fucker having done a complete u-turn to follow after you. His window is still rolled down and he has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out his window.

“Hello again, Henderson.”

“I never said hello back to you.”

“C’mon, at least pretend to be happy to see me.”

You let out another groan as you continue to struggle up the hill. “I physically cannot do that, sorry.”

Steve, ever the comedian, responds, “It doesn’t seem like you can physically get up this hill either.”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of laughing, but you’re a bit annoyed that his quip was funny. What a jackass, honestly.

“Henderson,” your silence doesn’t deter the boy, “just get in the damn car already.”

Once again you almost crash into the BMW, this time because of your complete shock at his request.

“What?”

He gives you a look as if you’re the insane one in this situation. “You’re sweatier than I am after basketball, and at the rate you’re going I’d say you’ll reach your destination in about three to five business days.”

You stare at him, speechless.

He stares back at you with a smirk on his smug little face, knowing that he’s won the argument. “Get in the car and I’ll throw your bike in the back.”

You do as he says, your mind completely blank and still taken aback. Sweatier than him after basketball? There’s no way that’s true, and also who says that to someone they barely even know? As if you’re really that sweaty-

You see your reflection in his car mirror and wince.

Okay, so maybe you’re a little sweaty.

Fuck Steve Harrington.

The boy in question tosses your bike in the trunk as you hesitantly get in the car. He watches as you sit yourself down and laughs. “It’s a car, Henderson. It won’t bite.”

“Yeah, but you might.” You slap a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the implications of your words.

Steve raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the car back on. “Careful there, last I checked you’re a taken lady.”

The embarrassment you previously felt is gone, now replaced with your usual annoyance when it comes to Steve. You think about what he did yesterday to Jonathan’s camera, the cruelty in his eyes as he watched the thing shatter onto the ground. He didn’t show any remorse, and while you understand that he had been defending his girlfriend, he had taken it too far.

“How many times do I have to tell you that Jonathan and I are just friends?”

“Please,” Steve huffs with amusement, “the two of you have been inseparable for years. Besides, no way a guy like Byers can just be friends with a girl like you. Not scientifically possible.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What’s ‘a girl like you’ supposed to mean?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Also, you didn’t even know my name until this week, so don’t go acting like you know my relationship with Jonathan.”

“Relax, Henderson. It was a compliment. All I meant is that you’re decently pretty, all things considered, so I wouldn’t blame Byers if he was in love with you. It’s human nature.”

“Okay, that’s just really sexist-”

“As for knowing your name only this week, you’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused.

Steve places a hand over his chest, almost as if he’s reaching for his heart. “Apology accepted, it means a lot to me.”

“Ugh,” you scoff at him. “That wasn’t an apology and you know it. Can you just take me to the Wheeler’s, please?”

“Woah, slow down there. First I need you to tell me why you thought I didn’t know your name, then I’ll take you to my girlfriend’s house. Free of charge.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you see some offense in Steve’s eyes for thinking he only recently learned your name, but why would he care? Besides, you know he’s never paid any attention to you before this week.

“It was literally this week that I had to tell you my name after you almost hit me with your car, Harrington.”

“Okay, hey,” the boy holds a finger up. “Actually, you almost hit me with your bike because you were too busy hysterically sobbing.”

He’s right, but you won’t tell him that. Minor details, honestly. You’re about to tell him as much before you realize what he’s said. “Wait, you knew I had been crying?”

Steve gives you a well, duh look. “Yeah, that’s why I pretended not to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And viola, I did.”

He had willingly tried to make you laugh?

His words make you flush, which seems to only amuse him further as he chuckles at you. You wave your hand at him, now more annoyed than ever. “Okay, fine. Whatever, so you knew my name before this week, big whoop. Can you just drive now?”

“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m sorry Steve for assuming you’re an asshole who hadn’t noticed a girl you’ve known since you were thirteen’, then.” Steve takes the car out of park and begins to drive to the Wheeler’s which you’re relieved by.

You feel uncomfortably warm after that conversation, regardless of the fact that you’re still overheated from your biking. There’s no way that Steve has seriously known about you since you were twelve and he was thirteen. No, you decide that he must be lying, playing up his usual boyish charm. He’s been this untouchable entity ever since you moved to Hawkins, so why would he have paid any attention to you?

Then your mind floats to his compliment, calling you “decently pretty”, but then again not even five minutes earlier he stated that you sweat more than he does after basketball, so really his words should mean nothing.

And yet, after the week you’ve had and your fight with Jonathan and Will’s death and El’s mysterious powers…

Steve’s words make you a bit giddy, embarrassingly enough. You hate that they do, because he’s Steve Harrington and he’s with Nancy who is beautiful and kind and everything you’re not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you.

You pick at your nails as he drives, the car silent, and you accidentally graze against the cut on your finger from yesterday. It’s scabbed over by now, but the pain is still fresh.

“I know that what Jonathan did was wrong, I won’t excuse his actions. Standing up for Nancy was the right thing to do and I admire you for it, really,” Steve spares you a glance as he drives, nodding his head slightly to indicate that he’s listening. “But breaking Jonathan’s camera wasn’t.”

He groans. “Nancy said the same thing, but what’s the big deal? The creep shouldn’t have access to a camera if he can’t use it properly.”

The slight warmth that Steve had somehow put in your chest dissipates at his words. “Jonathan isn’t a creep, but regardless of the situation, the big deal is this: not everyone can afford a fancy BMW and Raybans. Not everyone in Hawkins lives in a giant mansion with a pool. He worked so hard to afford that camera, it’s not something that he can just buy again on a whim.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Henderson, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I know, but it was still a shitty thing to do.”

The silence that settles in the car is a heavy one, and you almost feel bad for Steve. You know he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you suppose that the fact that he hadn’t considered the price of a camera was proof enough of his naivety.

When you get to the Wheeler’s, Steve gets out of the car to help you with your bike. He doesn’t let you do a thing, so you stand there and awkwardly watch. You can tell that he’s trying to make up for his actions from yesterday, which you appreciate.

“Thank you,” you say once he places the bike down.

“All in a day’s work.” Steve responds, wiping his hands off on his jeans.

As he turns to leave, you stop him. “And thank you for earlier this week, ya know, for making me laugh after falling off my bike. I, uh, appreciate it.”

He seems surprised by your sincerity, but he smiles. “Again: all in a day’s work. And listen, I’m sorry about Byers’ camera,” Then he quickly adds, as if afraid he won’t have the nerve to later, “I’m sorry about Will, too. I figure you were close with him and now he’s…”

His words trail off, not wanting to say the word “dead”, which you can’t blame him for.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Steve turns to face you now, your words catching his undivided attention. “You just have the worst taste in friends, but when you aren’t around them… I guess you’re alright.”

He laughs a bit, but there’s a certain emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite name; you have to stop yourself from leaning in closer to him. Suddenly the space between you feels too close and you take a step back, but as you move you feel Steve’s hand ruffle your hair. “I guess you’re ‘alright’ too, Henderson.”

You watch as he leaves, standing in the Wheeler’s driveway for longer than necessary. You place your hand on your head and find yourself smiling, the warmth of his touch still faintly there.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added or removed from my taglist please just let me know :)

⌑ taglist - @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #hey what happens in this chapter ? everything #the answer is everything

412 notes · View notes

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

Text

CONSUMED by dadsbestfriend!Price rn

He and your dad served together when they were both younger men, boys really, and they fought side by side for years before your dad packed all that in and decided not to renew his contract - leaving for a white picket fence life with your mum and you

You’ve never gotten to meet him before, but you feel like you kind of know him anyways because of the stories you’ve grown up hearing. He’s always been like a kind of figment of your imagination, someone your dads always spoken highly of in all of his tales from drunken weekends and adrenaline spiked firefights, he’s like some kind of mythic hero haloed in beer fumes and musing looks that get shut down when your mum asks if they both got themselves into any trouble on their latest gambit

Sure, you’ve seen pictures, you know what his face looks like, vaguely anyways. Apparently he has mutton chops now, something your dad is ‘always shocked by’ when they meet up now. However the pictures don’t do him justice. You realise that quickly after you do lay eyes on him.

You go over to your parents house, summoned for an early birthday dinner for your dad, and that’s when you see him. The man, the myth, the legend is cosied up on your usual spot on the corner couch, at the end of the short side with the chunky red tartan pillow barricading the hard brown couch arm. He turns when he sees you staring directly at him, meeting your gaze with a raised eyebrow.

The pictures didn’t really encapsulate how big he was, how broad his shoulders were as they took up an expanse of the chair back, how expressive his eyes were as they rover over you, how nauseatingly good he looked when ripped out of the confines of ink and paper and pressed into the lumpy old sofa you’d never been so needy to jump onto before.

Every little overworked neuron in your mind was busy exploding while you pictured tugging on his hair and beard and moaning out filthy things for him.

“You must be the kid,” Price observes, not knowing how much it would sting you, “how’s the head?”

If you weren’t aware of how childish it would be you’d huff that you were far from being a kid anymore.

“How’s my what?” Part of you wants to quip back that it’s ‘great- it comes recommended’ but then the sane part of you kicks in and thinks ‘perhaps don’t get yourself kicked out just as you’ve gotten in the door’

“Your dad showed me that charming little photo you stuck in the family group chat from the party last night. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree by the looks of it.”

Your face would flame up like a radiator in the dead of winter, you were just about spluttering and hissing like one too. You’d forgotten all about the drunken selfie you’d sent while in a full haze of peace love and a couple draws of your friend’s j after countless rum and cokes. ‘Love u guys, see ya tomoz’ you’d typed over it - remembering how you fumbled and squinted at the screen just so that it would be halfway coherent. Now sober, you knew it probably wasn’t.

“Fuck me, it actually sent,” you grumbled, jumping when you hear his earthy laugh tumble out.

His voice is like tree bark and honey, stolen straight from the mountains and imbued into his throat. You hang on his every sound, keen eyes glued to his plush pink lips that Peak out from under his beard.

You hardly notice your dad coming in until he’s all but shouting your name, wrapping you in for a bear hug you weren’t in the slightest prepared for.

Every response form there on out was hazy, as if it had been preprogrammed. For the entire night all you’d be able to focus on was John - He’d tell you to call him that after awkwardly addressing him as Sir, though not before something dark slithered over his eyes and passed in the instant it had come.

You’d spent the whole night fixated on John, hanging on his every word, sighing heavily when he reached back and combed through his hair, tousling it to a point that made you wonder if that’s how it looked after a night well spent in passion.

You were lucky you got through the dinner without making an arse of yourself, though to be fair your mum had gotten a jab in about how quiet you’d been. Better that than being embarrassing.

Though you weren’t to get away unscathed. It’d get late and after spending the whole night before fanatically talking and dancing, you had no energy left for being at your parents - present company included or not. However before you could call a taxi, Price would jump in and offer you a lift, claiming taxis were far too unsafe for someone so precious.

It’d make your parents laugh, but you weren’t even smiling. You’d stutter your excuses, telling him he didn’t need to make a fuss, but he’d be persistent. Being an army Captain and all, he was very difficult to argue with, so of course you found yourself in the passenger seat of his monstrous car, watching nervously as the old beast sputtered to life.

“Is this thing even legal to ride?” You’d mutter, frowning at the persistent choking noise that rattled underneath the engine roar.

“Could ask the same about you.”

It was barely a whisper, almost lost to the growl in his throat and the sound of the engine, but you were so sure you’d heard it said nonetheless. The possibility of it sent your back stick straight and your mouth plummeting to the floor, though in the back of your mind you wondered if you’d only heard him say it from out of the depths of your subconscious.

“Excuse me?” You’d chirp.

“I said: couldn’t get you to pull up some directions, could you?”

He’d side eye you as he said it, smiling to himself as he indicates and pulls out onto the road and out of the cul-de-sac.

Right. Directions, of course. You were just being filthy minded, you’d had a long couple days and you were strung out and tired. Why would he insinuate that he wanted to know if you were the right age to fuck or not. Especially when - even if you were by many measures - he was off limits to you. Forbidden. No go. Like the battle zones he probably waded into through his day job.

“Here you go. It’s not far!”

You’d pull up your phone, placing it on the dashboard so that he could see. He’d tell you to put on music too, shocking you when he’d produce an aux cord (by rights this car shouldn’t have even had the words aux cord uttered in it, but somehow it supported one).

“What kind of stuff do you listen to?” You’d ask, waiting to hear whatever dreary nonsense he was likely to come out with.

“What do you think I listen to?” He’d ask, barely paying attention to you as he made his way down the main road. “I’ll be happy with whatever you put on.”

“I mean i doubt our tastes are super similar.”

“You trying to drive at somethin’ here, sweetheart?”

You’d light up at the name, lighting up from the inside out in quiet awe. It’d be a challenge having to suppress your little firework show off happiness, so you’d hide it by shrugging and saying “figured you’d listen to old man music.”

He’d shake his head and grumble about ‘no such thing’ up until you put on an old Killers song and watched him smile - then you’d sagely nod your head and repeat ‘old man music’ delighting in his playful growl.

“Killers ain’t even that old sweetheart, at least stick some Dylan or Cash on if you’re gonna patronise me.”

“This came out in 2004, dude - I don’t know what to tell ya. It’s old.”

“Dude,” he’d grunt back. “Earlier it was Sir, was it not?”

You’d flush again and face the window, suddenly absorbing yourself in the outside world. The way he said that was far too…inviting. The no go zone was looking like the ‘get right the fuck in here and stomp all over your parents relationship with this man’ zone.

You couldn’t help yourself.

“Sorry, sir,” you’d tease. “Won’t happen again.”

Stupid insatiable brat, you’d inwardly curse, watching as Price’s smile widened again, pulling his whole face into a knowing grin.

It’d be clear to see you weren’t the only one fighting the urge to cross the barrier and take what you wanted. And with two people smashing at the confines…well.

One thing was for certain, you knew it in the pit of your belly, there was no way you were going to stay away now.

#captain price #captain john price #dbf!Price

506 notes · View notes

13keithxpidge13 · 1 year

Note

OH OH ! and miles wanting to count all of hobies piercings because hobie didnt remember how many he had (or even miles didnt ask and just started counting out of nowhere and surprises hobie hehehe) .. getting up really close to his face and noticing how pink hobie got . realising that he gets pink like that when he gets close to miles ....

"Have you noticed it at all?" Gwen asks him and Miles hums as he colors in his sketchbook.

They're sitting on top of one of the ledges in the Spider-Society HQ, chilling and relaxing as they wait for another mission to be announced. For now, Miles is biding his time by sketching.

Beside him, Gwen huffs and jostles his shoulder and Miles curses as he messes up his newest drawing.

"Gwen!" He shouts.

"I'm asking you a question," She laughs as he erases the imperfect line. "Have you noticed how Hobie changes colors?"

"Yeah," He gruffs out. "Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't," She says. "But...haven't you noticed how he changes color based on how he's feeling and that he goes pink around, well, /you/? And, /only/ you?"

"What are you talking about?" Miles glances at her with a raised eyebrow. "No he doesn't."

Gwen scoffs. "Yeah. He does."

"no he doesn't."

"he does."

"no!"

"yes!"

"Gweeennn," Miles whines and slaps his hands over his face as his cheeks darken at the implications of what she's saying. "Don't give me hope."

"I'm just saying," Gwen laughs. "It's pretty obvious."

Miles grumbles and glances away from her as he crosses his arms over his chest. "...I guess..." He mumbles and Gwen leans closer, humming. Miles puffs out his cheeks. "I suppose I /have/ noticed-"

"aHA!" Gwen shakes him and Miles breaks out into giggles. "I knew it! He sooooo has a crush on you! He likes you back, Miles, it's soooo obvious!"

"It's not!" He protests. "He's so indifferent I can never tell!"

"Well," Gwen smiles. "Why don't you try to catch him in the act? Make him bend to your cuteness and charm!" She teases as she pulls at his cheeks. "C'mon, I'll even help you!"

"But, how would we even do that in the first place?" Miles laughs at her poking. "It's not like I can just go up and /ask him/, he'll probably deny it! And, oh, maybe that will make him realize that /I/ like him! Gah! I can't!"

"You won't have too," Gwen reassures. "Just make him turn pink around you, do something that'll get him flustered and confront him about why he turns pink whenever you're around! Surely that'll lead to a love confession!"

Miles huffs in embarrassment and scratches at his sore cheeks that were whining from being pulled. "Oh, alright," He sighs. "But, /you/ have to help set up a time to do this!"

Gwen grins cheekily and pulls out her watch to message Hobie.

"Already on it."

"Uhm, thanks for coming over, man."

"Yeah, no problem, mate. Needed an excuse to leave my dimension fo' awhile anyhow."

Miles chuckles and tries to hide his nervousness as they both enter his room through the window he left open, being careful not to make too much noise as his parents were probably cooking dinner and he didn't want to disturb them.

They sit on his bed and a few moments of awkward silence passes by before Hobie bumps their shoulders together.

"somethin' you needed from me personally? Or did ya' just wan' hang out?"

"uh," Miles coughs and laughs nervously. "Well, uhm, I guess, uh-" He tries to come up with an excuse other than /I wanted to see you turn pink/, and then it hits him. "I, uh, I wanted to draw you!" He shouts and immediately curses himself for it.

Hobie blinks at him largely before laughing. "Ah, I see," He nods. "Ya' wanted a reference for ya' sketches? Well, all ya' had to do was ask, babe."

Miles laughs awkwardly and blindly grabs for his sketchbook which is on his bed.

"Uhm, okay," He brags as he holds his pencil shakily. "Can you uhm, can you turn so I can see your face? I need, uh, I need to get your facial structure right."

Hobie grins. "Sure, honey," He says and turns according to how Miles wants him too.

A few minutes pass while miles glances up and down, looking back up and down at him to make sure he's getting his face as accurate as possible. He gets so into drawing him that, when he glances up and sees the piercings on his face, he blinks.

"Oh," Miles deadpans and Hobie tilts his head.

"Hm?"

"Oh, uhm, well," Miles flushes. "I just, I noticed that you have a lot of piercings...I noticed it before but uh...you have a lot more than I thought."

Hobie grins cheekily.

"Ya' wanna count 'em?" He asks and Miles giggles nervously.

"Uhm, I might need too..." He says. "I wanna uh, I wanna get everything as accurate as possible."

"Mhm," Hobie hums. "I'm sure. Go ahead, love."

He had multiple piercings on his ears, on his eyebrows, on his nose...

Miles gets in closer even though his heart is racing and reaches up to touch his chin. "You've got one on your bottom lip, too?" He asks, tilting his head and attempting to remain calm. "It's big. Doesn't it hurt?"

Hobie's breathing echoes throughout his ear. "Nah, babe," Hobie laughs but it seems a little off. "Hurt at first but, uh, goes away after a lil' time."

"Yeah?" Miles brushes his fingers against his bottom lip and Hobie nearly jumps out of his skin.

Instead, his body goes /bright pink/ and Miles twitches.

"Fuck-" Hobie curses and stands up from the bed. "Sorry, fuck, sorry," He brushes his hands down his vest as though he were trying to brush away the color. "Sorry, mate. I don't know why it fuckin' does that shit, gods-"

"You don't?" Miles asks innocently. "Gwen said it was because your body changes colors based off your emotions like everything else does in your universe."

"That's-" Hobie stops and turns, mumbling something about Gwen being a snitch before he sighs. "Yeah. It does. It's fuckin' weird like that."

"Sooo..." Miles stands beside him and tilts his body closer to him. "What does pink mean? Because you go pink around me a /lot/, I've noticed. What is it? I won't make fun of you, dude."

Hobie's quiet, exhaling loudly through his mouth as he turns away and his cheeks seem to darken even further.

Miles' brows furrow. Come on. He has to /know/-

Hobie leans his head back and sighs once more.

"It's 'cause..." He swallows and scratches the back of his neck. "It's 'cause...I like ya', mate. Not in the bullshit platonic way either. Like, in the I kinda wanna kiss ya' and take ya' out to dates and hold ya' hand and shit."

Miles feels the breath punched out of him. "You-" He can't stop the wide smile that etches across his face. "Really?"

Hobie runs a hand down his face and mumbles; "Well, yeah..."

Miles almost jumps and down with joy until Hobie continues;

"I'm sorry, mate," He says. "I know it's prolly weird, ain't it? I don't wanna make ya' uncomfortable, love. If ya' want me gone, I'll leave, y'know? Just say the word, mate, and I'll be gone-"

"No!" Miles grabs onto him instinctively and Hobie jumps at it. "Don't go! You misunderstood me!"

"Wha-what?" Hobie stutters. "What're you talkin' 'bout?"

"You-I-" Miles felt his cheeks darken. He sputters for a moment and nearly lets go of Hobie's hand before the elder teen grasps at his fingers again so he couldn't get very far. Miles licks his lips and feels impossibly flustered.

"Miles?" Hobie leans forward, obviously concerned and curious. "What did you mean?"

"I just-" Miles turns his head away and Hobie shakes his head. "It's nothing-"

"nuh, uh, sweetheart," Hobie's smiling now. He's grinning from ear to ear and gently turns Miles to face him again and the younger teen is impossibly red. "Somethin' ya' wanna tell me? Like how I told you?"

Miles licks his lips and their eyes meet. Suddenly, a surge of confidence overtakes him and Miles grins.

"You wanna know what I meant?" He stands on his tip toes. "I'll show you."

He locks lips with Hobie and the punk grunts with it.

Miles grabs a hold of the back of his neck so he can force the elder teen to dip forward so Miles can get a better grip on him and he hums as Hobie licks at his lips

Hands grab at his waist and Miles squeals when he realizes how /big/ Hobie's hands are, how perfect they fit around him and his small hips. It makes shivers run up his spine like electricity and Hobie chuckles against his tongue as their muscles dances together.

Then, their lips part and a string of slick saliva is all that connects them.

Miles pants for air and knows his cheeks are flushed impossibly dark. Hobie leans forward again and kisses both cheeks, peppering his skin with soft slick kisses that have his breath hitching.

"Finally," Hobie murmurs. "Yer so fuckin' cute, love. So cute to kiss me like that."

Miles pouts. "It wasn't meant to be /cute/, man! It was supposed to be hot! I wasn't cute, I was /hot/," He whines and Hobie kisses his nose with a chuckle.

"Yes, yes, of course," He coos and Miles scoffs.

"Agree with me!"

"I am!"

"You're not!"

Hobie merely laughs and kisses him again, successfully silencing him.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy #across the spiderverse

785 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 7 months

Text

Hideout (3.1)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Sensitive Boy, part I (see previous or series)

Summary: Steve surprises you with help at the perfect time.

Warnings for light smut (I have to split this chapter or it's just suddenly twice as long as the last, but really there's just massage and an implied orgasm in this half. You know me: too many feels and too much development...) MINORS DNI. This series is 18+ only. If you are underage or simply enjoy lighter content, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this post is not for you! WC 3.2k

With so much on your mind, scaring the crap out of you is not difficult, so his strong hands hold you upright.

“Don’t do that,” you shriek, barely glancing at Steve’s face. You startled so suddenly your housekeeping cart is left rolling away at a snail’s pace.

“Sorry, I—“ long arms abandon you and reach to stop the bin “—it said on your website you were closed for renovations, and…”

You look him up and down. You were sure after he left two months ago that you’d never see him again. You’d gone too far. You’d pushed him too hard. He wasn’t ready.

Steve adjusts the strap over his shoulder. “I thought maybe I could help out…if you want?”

The last guests checked out a half-hour ago, and you readied to spend the whole week meticulously refreshing each room with your parents. The list of what needs done, however, doesn’t only include the motel. There’s a bunch you all had let slide up at the house. Help would…be extremely helpful actually.

Steve pulls a paper bag out of his knapsack. “Or I brought you some lunch if you just want a break or something.”

“It’s okay,” you rush out. “More than okay. Thank you, yes. We’d love—I’d love that.”

No one else can know it’s him-him there though. You’ll have to think of a way to keep your parents and St-‘Grant’ as far apart as possible, and how long you can manage that is…questionable.

If Steve’s not worried though, you’re okay.

Turns out, keeping your family up at the house is easy. Your mom shouts down the phone with relief that she can tackle the fridge, and you hear your dad mumble something about ‘the garage in daylight.’ You can enjoy a sandwich in the office with Steve in peace, explaining what all needs done before the electricians show up Friday afternoon.

The closure hasn’t been planned for a long time—not even before Steve and ‘Tom’s’ last visit—hence why you just painted Room 8, 5, 2, and 1 since March, but doing all those is how you and your parents really noticed that the light fixtures from the ‘90s were not only dated but very worn and that the same color layered over and over again for twenty years was, well, getting old.

Warmer months are better for the work. Pipes won’t freeze while you air out paint fumes, etc. The week after the gigantic, city festivities of Independence Day is notoriously dead. Since there were no reservations this stretch as of April, the family jumped at the chance to fix it all in one big, daunting go.

Saying you’d looked forward to this is a wild overstatement. You’ll be glad when it’s finished, and that’s the bulk of your excitement.

With his assistance though? Hope soars.

Steve will help you take down the sconces, the hanging lamps, and the panels above the vanities, then you both can—

“Where’s the paint?”

He’s very intense with the gameplan. Three guesses why.

“Dad’s gonna pick it up today. Probably. I’ll text him.” You whip out your cell again. “We didn’t think we’d get that far by evening.”

Steve nods.

“We also need to move all the furniture away from the walls and drape plastic to protect the carpet. Oh, and put tape along the trim and doorframes, ya know.”

Steve nods again. He wads up the wrapping from his sandwich and casually asks, “are all the doors open?”

You only just get your finger in the air to point at the desk.

“Master key is—“

But Steve is observant and has clocked everything about his surroundings each time he’s stayed, apparently. He stretches over to the wall beyond the counter, snatches the (correct) unmarked key, and heads out the door.

The service bell rings gently to emphasize the conversation is over.

All furniture in every room is pulled away by the time you finish sanitizing the one guest room he interrupted.

He asks where you keep the ladder, not that he’ll need it, but you will for reaching some of the lights.

You don’t know whether to be in awe of or exhausted by his efficiency.

He’s rigid and militant—go figure—until these few moments he suddenly can’t be.

As you toss plastic over the last bed to move, Steve yanks that sucker across the floor so fast, you roll off. His eyes are saucers as he apologizes, but you get the giggles and pick yourself up.

His fingers can’t separate thin layers of the plastic at one point, and he throws a minor fit until three rip apart together. Steve frowns at you and grumbles that he’s only ever used cloth for this before. It seems to take everything in his power not to say “back in my day,” but you can read between the lines.

Years of crusted paint makes the removal of some fixtures tricky.

Steve rips out one stripped screw with needle nose pliers, squeaks in alarm at the hole left behind, and then quietly asks if you have patch paste.

You call your dad before he’s left to buy paint. He adds spackling to the list.

The closest Steve comes to telling you anything specifically about himself is when you struggle with a stuck bolt.

“Just a little trick I learned when I was—“ Steve wraps his big hand around yours to pull the wrench instead of push from the other direction “—smaller.” He huffs out a laugh, adding, “when I couldn’t, ya know, ‘put my weight into it’ because a feather could’a knocked me over.”

As you relish the simple contact of his fingers, you smile, too.

“Hmm. I heard you got into back alley scrapes.”

“If you heard that I won any of those, you were lied to.” He patiently waits for you to finish removing the bolt before he pries the aged metal and glass away from the old paint it’s stuck in. Steve sighs dramatically.

“Shoddy education these days…”

“I…” You tap his bicep with the claws of the wrench. “I can’t argue with that. We hear only what they tell us about…heroes.”

You should have known he’d shut down at that word, but it’s the truth. Even with him right in front of you, the only things you know about Steve Rogers are from books, newspapers, and the internet. At face value—looking directly into the face of this man—all of what you’ve been told is hogwash. It’s insufficient. It barely covers 1% of who this man is.

He teaches you tricks of the weak man’s trade because it helped him once, too. Today, he’s friendly. Not that he was unfriendly before, but Steve is so reserved he never reference the past, in general, i.e. that there was a past existence of like the planet much less him.

It’s the number one rule of Fight Club: you don’t talk about Fight Club.

If there was ever a real fight club, it’s the Avengers.

You have no official rules for what this is between you. You don’t have to to know that is the most important one. You do not talk about Fight Club. Steve isn’t afraid of silence, that much is clear, but he isn’t a fan. He tries—he is trying—to connect and relate. He can’t be a man of the people, however, if he can’t talk to the people.

It’s important: connection. You know with every fiber of your being that Steve deserves it, but even with unlimited, super-human strength, he cannot get himself out from between this rock and that hard place.

You do not talk about Fight Club, especially when you’ve been kicked out of Fight Club.

Today, though, he’s a little different, a little softer. Perhaps it’s knowing there are no other people in the building, perhaps he is truly more comfortable with you, but either way, Steve is not flat or off-putting.

His organized persona, his focus on the work, his indirect interactions and practical touch; they all fit here while he has a project. It’s the closest he can be to his old self, maybe even his real self, without mentioning the past—the fighting past—at all.

“You’re really good company,” you tell Steve, “even when you make holes in the walls.”

He tilts his head down and blushes. He shrugs as he takes the sconce out to the dumpster. Although he didn’t say it, you hope this is okay.

Either way, you relish it. The help. The touch. The silence. All of it.

You relish Steve.

Your dad brings by the paint, spackling, and a surprise of pizza for dinner while Steve is taping the baseboards in a corner. You introduce ‘Grant’ from afar and haul the cans and boxes from the car to the room, cataloguing all you two have finished to this point and what you’ll do before stopping for the night.

Dad is impressed. He’d suspected the three of you—you, he, and Mom, that is—might settle for slapping some paint up around where the electrician would install the new lights. No one planned on getting this far in one evening.

He won’t stand in the way of progress, so your dad simply calls out, “bit of an artist, are ya?”

Steve looks up, confident with only the side table lamps plugged in, he can barely be seen. “Just want to be useful,” he mutters.

You wink at your dad as he heads back to the still-running car. “Grant is a jack of all trades.”

You’re sure to thank him for the food and let him know all the motel stuff is completely covered for tomorrow, too. You’ll work as late as you can and start as early as possible.

Dad says your friend has gone ‘above and beyond.’ You agree wholeheartedly.

‘Grant’ would more aptly be described as a machine.

All the furniture moved, all the lights taken down, all bordering taped, and now all blemishes in the walls smoothed, your impromptu contractor finally calls it quits when he’s forced to watch stuff dry.

You’ve kept the air conditioning going in one room.

Steve tentatively asks if he should walk you up to the house, but you counter with “it’s not any less dangerous for an average guy alone to return” and a cheeky smirk. Besides, it is very late. You let Captain OCD keep going; you tapped out a while ago.

He puts his hands on his hips, arms akimbo, thinking of a comeback that never manifests. After giving up, Steve takes his tiny bag into the bathroom and brushes his teeth.

You can faintly hear it over the murmur of the TV.

You aren’t really watching. It’s background noise to your general exhaustion.

With only a side lamp and the screen as light, Steve’s bare feet crumple over the discarded plastic sheet on the floor. He falls into one side of the bed, fully-clothed and (finally) tired.

Though productive, the day has been a distant one, working in different rooms for most of it and tiptoeing around real conversation. You want him to feel appreciated, not pressured, so you ask if he’d like the TV on for a while or would rather quiet.

Steve just grunts with his eyes closed.

Gently, you place a hand on his chest to steady you, leaning to kiss his bearded cheek.

“Thank you, Steve,” you say softly. “Good night.”

He hums when you say his name, and before you can lift your hand away, he captures it under his, holding you in place.

His eyes aren’t open. He can’t see you smile wider.

“Okay.” You tuck yourself into his chest as he raises his other arm out of the way. “Okay.”

Your ear sits in the dip beneath his collarbone, listening to his steady heart, his thumb sweeping back and forth over you knuckles.

He smushes you closer to his side. You toss your leg over his.

You forget to turn off the TV.

He’s sanding the spackled spots by the time you wake, so you rub across his back and dismiss yourself to get breakfast up at the house.

Steve makes no effort to go with, which is fine. You assumed as much.

Your dad calls Grant a ‘magician’ over the pop of oil in the skillet and insists you give your friend whatever he needs to keep working so fast. You are only half-joking when you admit the key is staying out of his way.

Bonus: the exchange reinforces your parents simply leaving the two of you alone down the hill, and you proudly tell Steve that when delivering him an enormous plate of scrambled eggs.

He jumps right back into planning-mode and orders you to roll the first coat of paint onto large areas. He’ll follow, completing the edges and corners.

It’s such a domestic thing to do. There is no one in danger, there are no bodies piling up if he makes a wrong move, and he can go faster or take his sweet time. Steve breaks when he wants or needs to. He sits outside and listens to the birds in the sunshine. No one is around to question him, not even you. You are only there to encourage.

You realize he was looking for a project. He’s used to—and likes—being busy, getting his hands dirty, producing results.

It’s a long, messy day where he becomes more serene in spirit the more intensely he works. You reward him with gentle sweeps of your hand down his arms, pats on his shoulders, and brushes at the small of his back.

Despite the almost constant movement, the day is over before you know it, earlier than yesterday, but it’s too hot to go on.

All the windows stay open to air out the fumes.

Though it won’t stop you from sweating, you both shower off as many splatters and flecks of paint as you can. You insist he goes first so there’s plenty of hot water.

He’s sitting on the bed, shirtless, checking his phone when you come out of the bathroom, but he immediately squirrel the device away in his small bag. Not much to carry around. Not much to leave behind. Steve can’t leave a trace of himself anywhere.

Hunched over and fatigued, he flashes a polite smile your way and blinks heavily.

He deserves the world.

You grab the small bottle of lotion from the countertop and playfully jump onto the bed behind him.

“How about a massage, yeah? You much be aching.”

Honestly, you don’t mean for it to sound sexual, but the phrase comes out downright dirty, making Steve awkwardly chuckle.

“You don’t have to,” he placates.

“Nonsense, I want to. It’ll make the air feel cooler.” That’s as good of an excuse as any. Who cares when the rippled expanse of his back flexes wildly in your touch?

His breathes are audible from the beginning.

You dig at his traps, his leg bouncing as he tries to relax. You use your thumbs, the flats of your hands, and your knuckles.

He shoves his fist in his mouth when he starts to moan, covering the move with a cough, but muffling the noise is abandoned in favor of clasping over his lap. He’s intent on hiding his hardness this time. There’s nothing you can say to truly lessen the sting of needing more. You can’t simply tell him he’s allowed to desire this; you have to ignore his misplaced shame.

But you can take pity on him.

“If you lie flat—“ you step off the bed to give him privacy “—I’ll have more leverage.”

You hear him crawl and adjust on the sheets. “Unlike the torque on a wrench,” you add, just to show you’ve been listening to him.

More lotion is needed for the surface area.

You turn up the TV, feining interest in the late night show so any noise he makes is not as obvious. What the speakers can’t cover, however, is Steve’s involuntary thrusts when you rub the heels of you palms up and down the sides of his spine. If you prop up on your knees, he has more range of motion and doesn’t obviously rock you while mindlessly humping the bed.

His sweats are slung low on his hips, two darts of muscle prominent above his ass.

They are irresistible, the perfect grooves to target and roll into, and he immediately mewls long and deep into the mattress, fingers curling and relaxing while his body seizes.

He hasn’t even finished coming, you think, before he taps at your leg and races to the bathroom.

You hope you didn’t push too far. You hope he’d tell you to stop if he needs more space, more time. Mostly, you hope he knows you’d give him every conceivable pleasure, just because he is him.

The water runs a long time, continuous splashing in the sink, and then nothing.

He didn’t bring much because he doesn’t have much. Your heart sinks, realizing you’ve made him soil one of only two pairs of pants he has here.

He cracks open the door, muttering, but you can’t make out the words.

You turn the volume back down. “What?”

“It pretty hot.” He clears his throat. “Would you mind if I sleep…without…?”

“Naked?” you squeak before composing yourself. “That’s fine. Whatever’s comfortable.”

You shuffle up the bed to click off the lamps. This man isn’t the type to strut around in the nude—yet, anyway—so in the faint and ever-shifting glow of the screen across the room very little can be seen.

‘Little,’ however, can’t describe anything that is visible about the man emerging from the bathroom.

You have to make a point not to stare, but no skit or commercial on the channel promises the same level of entertainment.

Steve slides himself beneath the sheet, sitting near the headboard.

You hold up the remote. “On or off?”

“Off,” he says, “please.”

You’ve certainly done enough for one day. You won’t push your luck, so you hit the power button, toss it on table, and snuggle into your half of the bed, facing away.

“If it’s too hot for any covers, that’s okay, too.”

A rustling interrupts the rhythmic whir of crickets in the night until you feel a warm hand lightly mold to your waist.

This should be encouraged. This should be rewarded.

“Hey, Stevie,” you whisper, waiting for his hum, “happy belated birthday.”

At most you expect a grip of notice, but instead, the big hand snakes across you and hauls you into his chest, his long legs bending to match the crook of yours, his nose and forehead tucked against your occipital.

“We did okay today,” Steve mumbles into your shirt.

You walk your hand over your stomach to find his, lacing the fingers together. “Yes. Yes, we did.”

Steve got to be useful today. He had a partner today. He will tomorrow and the day after, for as long as he stays, for as long as you’re alive. Nothing can change that.

Maybe he can’t talk about Fight Club, but he connects with you anyway.

A/N: Whoopsy. Didn't want to make y'all wait for a 6k+ chapter, so here's the first half! I am DEEP in the feels of this one. So, so many notes have been taken. The brainrot is real, and I fucking love it!!!!

[Next: Sensitive Boy, part II]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @claireelizabeth85 @jamneuromain @rach2602 @royalwritersoftheuniverses @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @trudy-shams @saranghaey @awkwardgiraffe726 @marvelmenwhore @happinessinthebeing @before-we-get-started @sjsmith56 @esposadomd @cjand10 @yearningforsappho @mrsevans90

254 notes · View notes